The Wheel - Part Four
Sep. 1st, 2005 08:38 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
new_kateTitle: The Wheel
Author: Newkate
Fandom: Saiyuki
Warnings: Reincarnation fic. This part is maybe PG-15. 1st person POV, crude language, violence, questionable grammar and elves.
Betaed by![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
hibem.
Part One: Shift
Part Two: Dance
Part Three: Experiment
Part 4: Party (Ch. 1 of 4)
Year of the Bear
The first thing I remember is his hand slamming on the table top in front of me. It startled me, and I jumped, looked up, and saw his face.
He said: “You’ve been staring at me for ten minutes already. If you want to live, cut it out.”
I wanted to live, sure. Every part of me wanted to live so badly. My legs wanted to stretch, to run, hands wanted to touch or to hit, mouth wanted to taste and to eat; just breathing was making me dizzy with the pleasure of it. But I couldn’t tear my eyes away from him. His face wasn’t the first thing I ever saw – there was his hand and the table before it, so it was the third, really - but so far it was the best.
So we kept looking at each other, and then he took the empty chair and sat down across from me.
“Are you mute or an idiot or something?” he asked, calm and quiet all of the sudden. I wasn’t sure if I knew how to talk and didn’t want to mess up in front of him, so I just shrugged, and he sneered at that a little. “Are you for hire?”
“Uhgn?” I said. It didn’t sound as clear and good as his voice, but it was a fine start anyway.
“You’re a swordsman, right?”
There was a sheathed blade lying across my lap. I grabbed the handle, pulled just a little bit of the engraved steel free, touched the markings. I didn’t remember this sword, but it seemed to remember me.
“I am. Yes,” I said, and he nodded.
“Well, I’m gathering a party. I won’t pay in advance, but you get a share of the loot and I’ll take care of all travelling expenses. You interested?”
“Does it mean I can come with you?” I said, desperately hoping I understood correctly. Somehow I knew all the words, but I had a feeling that if I stopped to think about them the clarity would be gone, and that was scary. He bared his teeth, shook his head, and it made the very ends of his hair fly around and touch his cheeks, so lightly he might’ve not even noticed.
“Now you have to come with me. A moron like you shouldn’t be left to roam around on his own. Do you even want to know where we’re heading? Or who I am?”
“You,” I said, meaning that I knew him already, knew who he was and what he was, and it was all I ever needed to know. “Let’s go.”
I got up, about to sling the scabbard over my shoulder, and doubled over in terrible pain. By the time I groped for a chair, sat back down and caught my breath I’d already figured out what was wrong with me.
“Only could we eat first?” I asked. “I’m very hungry.”
*-*-*
That’s when we met him for the first time, while I was eating. I kept eating and eating, savoury things and sweet things, soft creamy things and crunchy crispy thing, salty tough things and stringy bland things, and I could not stop, everything was too delicious. Soll grumbled that I would eat myself sick, but kept ordering food. Maybe he wanted to teach me a lesson or something? I didn’t feel sick at all, I just felt better and better.
Someone came up to Soll and put a hand on his shoulder. I got up, dropped the chicken I was eating, wiped my hands on the table and drew the sword. Just in case. The guy didn’t look like anything much, I could probably take him with my bare hands, but that’d take longer and the food could go cold.
“Calm down, you’re making a scene,” said Soll and put a hand over the one on his shoulder. I didn’t see what he did exactly, but the guy yelped, stepped back and stuffed that hand in his pocket as if nothing had happened.
“Not very friendly, are you?” said he and sat at our table, like he was invited.
“No, we really aren’t,” said Soll. “State your business and fuck off. Better still, get lost right now.”
“I hear you’re gathering a party for a trip to the mountains. Well, you’re in luck! As it happens, I’m heading westward myself, and for a reasonable fee…”
“Not interested,” said Soll and ordered another beer. “Go away.”
“Hey, I’m good! I can shoot straight, and it takes a lot to bring me down. And I have special skills,” said the guy with a smile I wanted to wipe off his face, and leaned close to Soll. Soll made a face as if he’d just stepped in a cow pie and pushed him back.
“Not that!” said the guy, turning red. “Are all of you clerics such gutterbrains? No, I’m good with locks and things. Can be useful on a journey.”
“You’re a thief.”
“Hush,” the guy looked around, but nobody seemed to have heard that. “Everybody has to start somewhere. I want to go straight, make a name for myself, leave all that crime shit behind. You’re a priest, you’re supposed to help people do this sort of thing.”
“People, maybe,” said Soll and took a long sip of his beer. I didn’t get that at the time, but the guy clearly did, because he got all nervous and started fidgeting and pulling the hood of his cape down to cover his face.
“How the hell can you tell? I’ve been passing here for weeks! Is it the eyes? These yokels can’t tell from the eyes…”
“It’s the aura, you dimwit,” said Soll. “Consider yourself lucky that I personally don’t give a fuck; any other priest would be holding you by the ear now, for the whole village to see. And no, I won’t hire you. You’re more trouble than you’ll be worth.”
The guy didn’t say anything, just left our table and headed straight out of the tavern.
“What was wrong with him?” I asked. Not that I wasn’t happy there were just the two of us, but I felt a little sorry for that loser.
“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” said Soll. “He’s a half-breed.”
*-*-*
When we met him again, I already knew about the elves, but we haven’t seen any yet, and I was curious. He was still and quiet, which meant I could have a good look at him.
He was very pretty. Better looking than anyone we’ve met so far. Not like Soll, no one was like Soll, but the half-breed was pretty in a way humans probably couldn’t be. The eyes really were different, even closed – once you knew what to look for, you could easily see it. His lips would be very nice, too, if not for all the cracks and blood, but I mostly wanted to see the ears.
He was hiding them under the hair, so I already knew they wouldn’t be big, like the real elfish ones, but they were still amazing. Pointy and long, and not hairy, bit with just a little bit of fluff on the edge. I touched them, and they were cold, even colder than the rest of him.
“Found any survivors?” asked Soll, climbing inside the cell. I had to explain that I forgot to ask him how to tell survivors from the rest, and he, as usual, hit me on the head with his staff and yelled at me, which I still thought was mean, but I was getting used to it. Then he taught me about heartbeat and breathing; we checked all the prisoners, and only the half-breed seemed alive. Not very much, but a little bit. When Soll recognised him he swore and said something about Karma, but I didn’t know any priest lore, so I wasn’t really listening.
I broke his chains; we carried him out of the caves and put him on the grass, so the sun could warm him up a little. Soll read a healing prayer, cleansed the wounds and woke him up, so I could give him water.
He drank and drank, clutching to my hands as if I would take the cup away from him. His lips started bleeding again, and water became all red and gross, but he still drank it all up.
“Long time no see,” said Soll, crouching next to him when he collapsed back on the grass. “How did you end up a sacrifice, anyway?”
“Long story,” said the half-breed. “Took somebody’s place. Doesn’t matter. Did anyone else make it?”
“Nope. Looks like it does take a lot to kill a cockroach like you.”
“We defeated all the bad guys though,” I said, hoping it would make him feel better. He looked really miserable. “They won’t be taking anyone else. I hoped they would be elves, but they were just pretending to be, to take sacrifices. The ears were made of wax. Cheats.”
“Yeah, I know,” he said. “I didn’t think there would be elves this far east, either, but I had to check.”
“Think elves’ll take you in?” asked Soll, and I couldn’t tell if he meant the guy was an idiot or really wanted to know the answer. It was hard to tell with Soll.
“’Course not. Looking for someone. You?”
Soll didn’t answer that, just got up and started casting the wards around. That meant we were camping there, so I began building the fire. The guy tried to get up, but Soll kicked him back on the grass.
“Stay there, don’t bleed all over the place. I’ll heal you some more later, and then you’ll leave and never, ever cross my path again, got it?”
“I need to find my stuff,” he said. He didn’t know yet that arguing with Soll was never a good idea. “They took my tools and something I was holding onto for a friend. I have to…”
Soll rolled his eyes, kicked him again and sent me to find his things, which was a bother, but I wanted to see real thieving tools, so I didn’t even whine or anything.
I found his bag right away: the half-breed’s smell was dulled by time, but unique enough to pick up. When I turned back, I heard that he and Soll were chatting about something.
“…But what is he? Do you even know?”
“No. Shut up, he’s coming.”
The tools were so neat and shiny I even forgot to ask them what they were talking about.
The thief taught me how to open locks. He talked about women all the while as if that was supposed to help me understand locks better; as I learned later, he did that a lot, and it really wasn’t helpful in most cases. Anyway, locks were easy – you just had to be gentle and patient and practise a lot. He unlocked and took off his shackles, and then he showed us that thingy his friend left with him.
It was a little pendant, black and silver, with a cobweb-like pattern engraved on it. Soll didn’t look at it, just touched it and tossed it back to the half-breed.
“It’s a binding ward to contain evil. They’re usually cast on cemeteries and old ruins; I’ve never heard of one being worn as a charm. Who was that man?”
“Not a man, you’d say,” said the half-breed and hid the pendant inside his shirt. “He stayed at my place for a while; one morning I woke up and he was gone, and this was lying on the table. I think he might need it back, so…”
“Or,” said Soll, and now I could tell he definitely was making fun of the guy, “He actually meant to leave some unneeded junk behind. Have you considered that?”
He didn’t answer for a long time. I thought he wasn’t ever going to when he said:
“Well, I’ll still find him and ask. Best to be sure.”
*-*-*
And then there was Hathal. But that was much later.
We’ve been travelling for a long time, always pretty much heading the same way, but with little detours here and there. Soll would take small jobs from villages – to kill a troll, to banish a spectre, to deliver a message through dangerous lands. He also visited every temple that was not too far out of the way, but always made me wait outside, so I didn’t know what went on in there. Priest stuff, he’d say.
Sometimes after the job was done we got paid in gems and chips, but mostly they’d just put us up and feed us and let us top up our supplies. Once I got a chain mail that looked great, but was noisy and scratchy, so I traded it later for a really cool pair of boots. The guy said it was dragon skin, but Soll took one look at them, hit me with his staff and told me I got cheated. He found the guy and yelled at him till he gave us both new cloaks, lightweight water flasks and three pounds of rabbit jerky and apologized to me so much I felt awkward. Didn’t stop Soll putting a curse on him, of course, but only a small one, because, as he said when we left that town, the boots were probably better than dragon skin. Virtually eternal, he said. No magic properties, but sturdy as anything. So I wasn’t a complete idiot for buying them.
I was also one of the best swordsmen in the land, looked like. Maybe the best even. We haven’t met anyone I couldn’t beat yet, and some of those I defeated were actually famous warriors, but I never even got wounded in one-on-one, only when the enemies were too many and I had to cover Soll while he got his heavy spells going. They took so long to set off that I tried not to think how he managed before he got me. His fast spells were pretty weak, and although he was good with his staff, he could only take maybe four serious fighters at a time.
So we walked and walked, and took ferries over the rivers, and once joined a caravan as guards and got to ride in wagons for days. We camped outside and slept under the stars, wrapped in our blankets, or in caves if it was raining, which I hated because caves were too dark and cold and Soll could never sleep in them and sat up all night, paced, sighed, kept me awake.
Inns or people’s houses were much better, when we got to stay in one. Soft beds, warm rooms, nice smells. And food, of course. Neither of us knew how to cook. When camping we ate jerky and dry cheese and stale bread and drank water from the streams, which didn’t bother Soll any, but made me wish for real food so bad. Some of the people we stayed with couldn’t feed us much better, but in the inns the food was terrific. You got roast meat and potatoes and stews and boiled fish and honey and beer and soup and cream and apples and onions and pies and everything. Soll would eat only a little and then would sit, drink beer and watch me shovel it in for hours, and that was just great.
Wherever we slept I always tried to sleep lightly, because Soll, even when awake, had terrible hearing and an even worse nose. He couldn’t tell danger unless it was right on top of him, in fifty paces or so, so it was up to me to keep him safe. I’ve learned to sense the enemies from far away and wake up long before they knew we were there.
Sometimes I felt a presence really close, but somehow knew that it was no threat and let it come. If I was awake enough I could often hear Soll talking to whoever that was. When I asked about it in the morning he always said I dreamt it all up.
That town was probably the biggest one we’d been to yet. The inn was huge and clean, with working plumbing, and the innkeeper swore they’d just killed all the rats and roaches. It looked so safe what with the guards and all the animals outside and in the stables that’d be alerted if danger came and wake everybody up. Soll even wanted to get two separate rooms – he always said I snored and was a bother to share with, but I whined till he changed his mind. He hit me pretty hard with his staff to make up for it, of course.
They had some foods I’d never tried yet, and I was determined to eat as much of each as I could to remember them better. In the meantime Soll was looking for jobs. He was always worried we wouldn’t make enough money to feed me and I’d be annoying him whining that I’m hungry, but I could fast without complaining for hours if I had to, so it was pretty unfair.
I really liked this town. Not only because of the food, but because everyone looked so happy there. They talked loudly, drank toasts and laughed, as if they were celebrating.
“Well, we could use some blessings, of course,” said the important-looking man when Soll asked him about work. “But you’ve missed the really juicy one. There was a fat bounty on a head of the witch elf that got caught just today. We’ll be burning him after the sundown tomorrow, you’re welcome to stay and watch.”
“We have a journey to get on with, if there are no good jobs here,” said Soll, shrugging his shoulders as if he were cold.
“Seems like you are just out of luck, folks. Missed the bounty, will miss the burning, too. We’d do him in tonight, but the pyre’s not built yet.”
“What a shame,” said Soll. “Have fun. Stop eating, you bottomless pit, let’s go.”
He threw money on the table and dragged me outside so fast I only managed to grab about a dozen of dumplings from the plate to stuff in my pockets.
“I hate this shit,” he grumbled. “The bitch is doing this to me on purpose, I just know it.”
“Uh, Soll? Do you think it’s a real elf this time?”
“Could be.”
“Can we go look, Soll? Please? I’d love to see a real elf. Soooooll…”
“Shut up. There he is.”
In the middle on the main square, near the fountain, there was a small wagon, a wooden cage on wheels, and there was something lying inside it. I ran over to look, pushed away the kids poking it with sticks and saw Hathal for the first time.
He was lying on his side with his eyes closed, all covered in dirt and blood. His clothes were mostly in tatters, he was barefoot, all tied up and gagged. He lay there so still that I got worried and listened for heartbeat and breathing, but they were strong, so he wasn’t hurt too badly.
He looked just like a man. Only really lithe and impossibly beautiful, I could tell even with the cuts and bruises. And of course there were the ears – I could only see the left one, but it was amazing, long, gracefully curved, with a sharp point on the end, fair and so thin that I could see the light flowing through it. I wanted to touch it, even put a hand though the bars, but didn’t feel it would be right when he was like that.
And then he opened one eye – only a little, it was too swollen to open much - and it was green, like moss that grows deep in the forest gets on a very bright day. He looked up at me and smiled, I think. It was hard to tell with the gag.
“Hm,” said Soll. He stood on the other side of the cage and looked at the elf’s hands tied behind his back. “If he really is a witch then he must be a weakling.”
“Why?”
“They didn’t even break his fingers. He should still be able to cast.”
“Maybe he’s tired. Or maybe he’s waiting for a good moment, when there’s nobody around,” I said, a little upset that the first elf I saw wasn’t a particularly cool one.
“Or maybe he can’t. Or maybe he’s given up. Weakling, as I said.”
The elf’s ear twitched a little; he closed his eye and let his head roll back on the wooden floor. Soll huffed and headed back to the inn.
I didn’t know how to ask. I sat in our room, on my big, soft bed, stomach full of delicious food, and felt terrible despite all this, because I was about to make Soll mad and it would probably be for nothing. But I had to ask.
“Soll, can we save him? Please?”
“Well, of course, we have to,” he said, took off his boots and got into bed. I honestly thought I had heard that wrong, so I sat on the bed until I was worried he’d fall asleep and would get mad if my talking woke him up.
“Soll, are you serious? How come?”
“Sheesh, you are such a moron… Because I’m a priest of Zana the merciful. You know I am.”
“So?”
“So I’m supposed to do her will. Which is to give mercy. And one day, sure, I will put my foot down and tell that bitch where to shove it, but it will be for something meaningful. Not over a life of some worthless elf. We are saving him tonight. Till then, get some sleep.”
I didn’t know what to say to that. I felt like I wanted to cry or to hug him or something. But that’d get me a huge bump on the head, so I quietly lay down and slept until he woke up and started stretching under his blankets.
Next chapter
Author: Newkate
Fandom: Saiyuki
Warnings: Reincarnation fic. This part is maybe PG-15. 1st person POV, crude language, violence, questionable grammar and elves.
Betaed by
hibem.Part One: Shift
Part Two: Dance
Part Three: Experiment
Part 4: Party (Ch. 1 of 4)
Year of the Bear
The first thing I remember is his hand slamming on the table top in front of me. It startled me, and I jumped, looked up, and saw his face.
He said: “You’ve been staring at me for ten minutes already. If you want to live, cut it out.”
I wanted to live, sure. Every part of me wanted to live so badly. My legs wanted to stretch, to run, hands wanted to touch or to hit, mouth wanted to taste and to eat; just breathing was making me dizzy with the pleasure of it. But I couldn’t tear my eyes away from him. His face wasn’t the first thing I ever saw – there was his hand and the table before it, so it was the third, really - but so far it was the best.
So we kept looking at each other, and then he took the empty chair and sat down across from me.
“Are you mute or an idiot or something?” he asked, calm and quiet all of the sudden. I wasn’t sure if I knew how to talk and didn’t want to mess up in front of him, so I just shrugged, and he sneered at that a little. “Are you for hire?”
“Uhgn?” I said. It didn’t sound as clear and good as his voice, but it was a fine start anyway.
“You’re a swordsman, right?”
There was a sheathed blade lying across my lap. I grabbed the handle, pulled just a little bit of the engraved steel free, touched the markings. I didn’t remember this sword, but it seemed to remember me.
“I am. Yes,” I said, and he nodded.
“Well, I’m gathering a party. I won’t pay in advance, but you get a share of the loot and I’ll take care of all travelling expenses. You interested?”
“Does it mean I can come with you?” I said, desperately hoping I understood correctly. Somehow I knew all the words, but I had a feeling that if I stopped to think about them the clarity would be gone, and that was scary. He bared his teeth, shook his head, and it made the very ends of his hair fly around and touch his cheeks, so lightly he might’ve not even noticed.
“Now you have to come with me. A moron like you shouldn’t be left to roam around on his own. Do you even want to know where we’re heading? Or who I am?”
“You,” I said, meaning that I knew him already, knew who he was and what he was, and it was all I ever needed to know. “Let’s go.”
I got up, about to sling the scabbard over my shoulder, and doubled over in terrible pain. By the time I groped for a chair, sat back down and caught my breath I’d already figured out what was wrong with me.
“Only could we eat first?” I asked. “I’m very hungry.”
*-*-*
That’s when we met him for the first time, while I was eating. I kept eating and eating, savoury things and sweet things, soft creamy things and crunchy crispy thing, salty tough things and stringy bland things, and I could not stop, everything was too delicious. Soll grumbled that I would eat myself sick, but kept ordering food. Maybe he wanted to teach me a lesson or something? I didn’t feel sick at all, I just felt better and better.
Someone came up to Soll and put a hand on his shoulder. I got up, dropped the chicken I was eating, wiped my hands on the table and drew the sword. Just in case. The guy didn’t look like anything much, I could probably take him with my bare hands, but that’d take longer and the food could go cold.
“Calm down, you’re making a scene,” said Soll and put a hand over the one on his shoulder. I didn’t see what he did exactly, but the guy yelped, stepped back and stuffed that hand in his pocket as if nothing had happened.
“Not very friendly, are you?” said he and sat at our table, like he was invited.
“No, we really aren’t,” said Soll. “State your business and fuck off. Better still, get lost right now.”
“I hear you’re gathering a party for a trip to the mountains. Well, you’re in luck! As it happens, I’m heading westward myself, and for a reasonable fee…”
“Not interested,” said Soll and ordered another beer. “Go away.”
“Hey, I’m good! I can shoot straight, and it takes a lot to bring me down. And I have special skills,” said the guy with a smile I wanted to wipe off his face, and leaned close to Soll. Soll made a face as if he’d just stepped in a cow pie and pushed him back.
“Not that!” said the guy, turning red. “Are all of you clerics such gutterbrains? No, I’m good with locks and things. Can be useful on a journey.”
“You’re a thief.”
“Hush,” the guy looked around, but nobody seemed to have heard that. “Everybody has to start somewhere. I want to go straight, make a name for myself, leave all that crime shit behind. You’re a priest, you’re supposed to help people do this sort of thing.”
“People, maybe,” said Soll and took a long sip of his beer. I didn’t get that at the time, but the guy clearly did, because he got all nervous and started fidgeting and pulling the hood of his cape down to cover his face.
“How the hell can you tell? I’ve been passing here for weeks! Is it the eyes? These yokels can’t tell from the eyes…”
“It’s the aura, you dimwit,” said Soll. “Consider yourself lucky that I personally don’t give a fuck; any other priest would be holding you by the ear now, for the whole village to see. And no, I won’t hire you. You’re more trouble than you’ll be worth.”
The guy didn’t say anything, just left our table and headed straight out of the tavern.
“What was wrong with him?” I asked. Not that I wasn’t happy there were just the two of us, but I felt a little sorry for that loser.
“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” said Soll. “He’s a half-breed.”
*-*-*
When we met him again, I already knew about the elves, but we haven’t seen any yet, and I was curious. He was still and quiet, which meant I could have a good look at him.
He was very pretty. Better looking than anyone we’ve met so far. Not like Soll, no one was like Soll, but the half-breed was pretty in a way humans probably couldn’t be. The eyes really were different, even closed – once you knew what to look for, you could easily see it. His lips would be very nice, too, if not for all the cracks and blood, but I mostly wanted to see the ears.
He was hiding them under the hair, so I already knew they wouldn’t be big, like the real elfish ones, but they were still amazing. Pointy and long, and not hairy, bit with just a little bit of fluff on the edge. I touched them, and they were cold, even colder than the rest of him.
“Found any survivors?” asked Soll, climbing inside the cell. I had to explain that I forgot to ask him how to tell survivors from the rest, and he, as usual, hit me on the head with his staff and yelled at me, which I still thought was mean, but I was getting used to it. Then he taught me about heartbeat and breathing; we checked all the prisoners, and only the half-breed seemed alive. Not very much, but a little bit. When Soll recognised him he swore and said something about Karma, but I didn’t know any priest lore, so I wasn’t really listening.
I broke his chains; we carried him out of the caves and put him on the grass, so the sun could warm him up a little. Soll read a healing prayer, cleansed the wounds and woke him up, so I could give him water.
He drank and drank, clutching to my hands as if I would take the cup away from him. His lips started bleeding again, and water became all red and gross, but he still drank it all up.
“Long time no see,” said Soll, crouching next to him when he collapsed back on the grass. “How did you end up a sacrifice, anyway?”
“Long story,” said the half-breed. “Took somebody’s place. Doesn’t matter. Did anyone else make it?”
“Nope. Looks like it does take a lot to kill a cockroach like you.”
“We defeated all the bad guys though,” I said, hoping it would make him feel better. He looked really miserable. “They won’t be taking anyone else. I hoped they would be elves, but they were just pretending to be, to take sacrifices. The ears were made of wax. Cheats.”
“Yeah, I know,” he said. “I didn’t think there would be elves this far east, either, but I had to check.”
“Think elves’ll take you in?” asked Soll, and I couldn’t tell if he meant the guy was an idiot or really wanted to know the answer. It was hard to tell with Soll.
“’Course not. Looking for someone. You?”
Soll didn’t answer that, just got up and started casting the wards around. That meant we were camping there, so I began building the fire. The guy tried to get up, but Soll kicked him back on the grass.
“Stay there, don’t bleed all over the place. I’ll heal you some more later, and then you’ll leave and never, ever cross my path again, got it?”
“I need to find my stuff,” he said. He didn’t know yet that arguing with Soll was never a good idea. “They took my tools and something I was holding onto for a friend. I have to…”
Soll rolled his eyes, kicked him again and sent me to find his things, which was a bother, but I wanted to see real thieving tools, so I didn’t even whine or anything.
I found his bag right away: the half-breed’s smell was dulled by time, but unique enough to pick up. When I turned back, I heard that he and Soll were chatting about something.
“…But what is he? Do you even know?”
“No. Shut up, he’s coming.”
The tools were so neat and shiny I even forgot to ask them what they were talking about.
The thief taught me how to open locks. He talked about women all the while as if that was supposed to help me understand locks better; as I learned later, he did that a lot, and it really wasn’t helpful in most cases. Anyway, locks were easy – you just had to be gentle and patient and practise a lot. He unlocked and took off his shackles, and then he showed us that thingy his friend left with him.
It was a little pendant, black and silver, with a cobweb-like pattern engraved on it. Soll didn’t look at it, just touched it and tossed it back to the half-breed.
“It’s a binding ward to contain evil. They’re usually cast on cemeteries and old ruins; I’ve never heard of one being worn as a charm. Who was that man?”
“Not a man, you’d say,” said the half-breed and hid the pendant inside his shirt. “He stayed at my place for a while; one morning I woke up and he was gone, and this was lying on the table. I think he might need it back, so…”
“Or,” said Soll, and now I could tell he definitely was making fun of the guy, “He actually meant to leave some unneeded junk behind. Have you considered that?”
He didn’t answer for a long time. I thought he wasn’t ever going to when he said:
“Well, I’ll still find him and ask. Best to be sure.”
*-*-*
And then there was Hathal. But that was much later.
We’ve been travelling for a long time, always pretty much heading the same way, but with little detours here and there. Soll would take small jobs from villages – to kill a troll, to banish a spectre, to deliver a message through dangerous lands. He also visited every temple that was not too far out of the way, but always made me wait outside, so I didn’t know what went on in there. Priest stuff, he’d say.
Sometimes after the job was done we got paid in gems and chips, but mostly they’d just put us up and feed us and let us top up our supplies. Once I got a chain mail that looked great, but was noisy and scratchy, so I traded it later for a really cool pair of boots. The guy said it was dragon skin, but Soll took one look at them, hit me with his staff and told me I got cheated. He found the guy and yelled at him till he gave us both new cloaks, lightweight water flasks and three pounds of rabbit jerky and apologized to me so much I felt awkward. Didn’t stop Soll putting a curse on him, of course, but only a small one, because, as he said when we left that town, the boots were probably better than dragon skin. Virtually eternal, he said. No magic properties, but sturdy as anything. So I wasn’t a complete idiot for buying them.
I was also one of the best swordsmen in the land, looked like. Maybe the best even. We haven’t met anyone I couldn’t beat yet, and some of those I defeated were actually famous warriors, but I never even got wounded in one-on-one, only when the enemies were too many and I had to cover Soll while he got his heavy spells going. They took so long to set off that I tried not to think how he managed before he got me. His fast spells were pretty weak, and although he was good with his staff, he could only take maybe four serious fighters at a time.
So we walked and walked, and took ferries over the rivers, and once joined a caravan as guards and got to ride in wagons for days. We camped outside and slept under the stars, wrapped in our blankets, or in caves if it was raining, which I hated because caves were too dark and cold and Soll could never sleep in them and sat up all night, paced, sighed, kept me awake.
Inns or people’s houses were much better, when we got to stay in one. Soft beds, warm rooms, nice smells. And food, of course. Neither of us knew how to cook. When camping we ate jerky and dry cheese and stale bread and drank water from the streams, which didn’t bother Soll any, but made me wish for real food so bad. Some of the people we stayed with couldn’t feed us much better, but in the inns the food was terrific. You got roast meat and potatoes and stews and boiled fish and honey and beer and soup and cream and apples and onions and pies and everything. Soll would eat only a little and then would sit, drink beer and watch me shovel it in for hours, and that was just great.
Wherever we slept I always tried to sleep lightly, because Soll, even when awake, had terrible hearing and an even worse nose. He couldn’t tell danger unless it was right on top of him, in fifty paces or so, so it was up to me to keep him safe. I’ve learned to sense the enemies from far away and wake up long before they knew we were there.
Sometimes I felt a presence really close, but somehow knew that it was no threat and let it come. If I was awake enough I could often hear Soll talking to whoever that was. When I asked about it in the morning he always said I dreamt it all up.
That town was probably the biggest one we’d been to yet. The inn was huge and clean, with working plumbing, and the innkeeper swore they’d just killed all the rats and roaches. It looked so safe what with the guards and all the animals outside and in the stables that’d be alerted if danger came and wake everybody up. Soll even wanted to get two separate rooms – he always said I snored and was a bother to share with, but I whined till he changed his mind. He hit me pretty hard with his staff to make up for it, of course.
They had some foods I’d never tried yet, and I was determined to eat as much of each as I could to remember them better. In the meantime Soll was looking for jobs. He was always worried we wouldn’t make enough money to feed me and I’d be annoying him whining that I’m hungry, but I could fast without complaining for hours if I had to, so it was pretty unfair.
I really liked this town. Not only because of the food, but because everyone looked so happy there. They talked loudly, drank toasts and laughed, as if they were celebrating.
“Well, we could use some blessings, of course,” said the important-looking man when Soll asked him about work. “But you’ve missed the really juicy one. There was a fat bounty on a head of the witch elf that got caught just today. We’ll be burning him after the sundown tomorrow, you’re welcome to stay and watch.”
“We have a journey to get on with, if there are no good jobs here,” said Soll, shrugging his shoulders as if he were cold.
“Seems like you are just out of luck, folks. Missed the bounty, will miss the burning, too. We’d do him in tonight, but the pyre’s not built yet.”
“What a shame,” said Soll. “Have fun. Stop eating, you bottomless pit, let’s go.”
He threw money on the table and dragged me outside so fast I only managed to grab about a dozen of dumplings from the plate to stuff in my pockets.
“I hate this shit,” he grumbled. “The bitch is doing this to me on purpose, I just know it.”
“Uh, Soll? Do you think it’s a real elf this time?”
“Could be.”
“Can we go look, Soll? Please? I’d love to see a real elf. Soooooll…”
“Shut up. There he is.”
In the middle on the main square, near the fountain, there was a small wagon, a wooden cage on wheels, and there was something lying inside it. I ran over to look, pushed away the kids poking it with sticks and saw Hathal for the first time.
He was lying on his side with his eyes closed, all covered in dirt and blood. His clothes were mostly in tatters, he was barefoot, all tied up and gagged. He lay there so still that I got worried and listened for heartbeat and breathing, but they were strong, so he wasn’t hurt too badly.
He looked just like a man. Only really lithe and impossibly beautiful, I could tell even with the cuts and bruises. And of course there were the ears – I could only see the left one, but it was amazing, long, gracefully curved, with a sharp point on the end, fair and so thin that I could see the light flowing through it. I wanted to touch it, even put a hand though the bars, but didn’t feel it would be right when he was like that.
And then he opened one eye – only a little, it was too swollen to open much - and it was green, like moss that grows deep in the forest gets on a very bright day. He looked up at me and smiled, I think. It was hard to tell with the gag.
“Hm,” said Soll. He stood on the other side of the cage and looked at the elf’s hands tied behind his back. “If he really is a witch then he must be a weakling.”
“Why?”
“They didn’t even break his fingers. He should still be able to cast.”
“Maybe he’s tired. Or maybe he’s waiting for a good moment, when there’s nobody around,” I said, a little upset that the first elf I saw wasn’t a particularly cool one.
“Or maybe he can’t. Or maybe he’s given up. Weakling, as I said.”
The elf’s ear twitched a little; he closed his eye and let his head roll back on the wooden floor. Soll huffed and headed back to the inn.
I didn’t know how to ask. I sat in our room, on my big, soft bed, stomach full of delicious food, and felt terrible despite all this, because I was about to make Soll mad and it would probably be for nothing. But I had to ask.
“Soll, can we save him? Please?”
“Well, of course, we have to,” he said, took off his boots and got into bed. I honestly thought I had heard that wrong, so I sat on the bed until I was worried he’d fall asleep and would get mad if my talking woke him up.
“Soll, are you serious? How come?”
“Sheesh, you are such a moron… Because I’m a priest of Zana the merciful. You know I am.”
“So?”
“So I’m supposed to do her will. Which is to give mercy. And one day, sure, I will put my foot down and tell that bitch where to shove it, but it will be for something meaningful. Not over a life of some worthless elf. We are saving him tonight. Till then, get some sleep.”
I didn’t know what to say to that. I felt like I wanted to cry or to hug him or something. But that’d get me a huge bump on the head, so I quietly lay down and slept until he woke up and started stretching under his blankets.
Next chapter
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Date: 2005-09-01 06:02 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-09-02 03:00 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-09-02 11:21 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-09-01 06:08 pm (UTC)When I read the first volume of _Saiyuki_, back when it was first published in English, I described it to a friend as "a fairly standard fantasy-adventure set-up, with a Fighter, a Mage, a Cleric, and a Rogue all going on a quest." (Hey, I didn't know better at the time!) It gives me no end of amusement to see it actually written that way.
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Date: 2005-09-02 03:07 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-09-01 10:48 pm (UTC)I loved the little bit at the start when he had his lines so well practiced (from previous lives) even before he said them ... and of course Sanzo's reasoning why he needs to save Hakkai ... makes perfect sense.
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Date: 2005-09-02 03:14 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-09-02 10:15 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-09-02 01:48 am (UTC)Sanzo as a priest of Zana the Merciful, forced to constantly rescue people and dispense mercy of all kinds, is a very nice idea. ;-) Though I do wonder how he managed to choose this deity, of all deities, when he took orders - but then again, most deities probably choose their followers rather than the other way around, and we do know Zana's sense of humor. *eg*
Poor Gojyo. You torture him so well - I do hope he manages to snag a bit more affection and happiness this time around, and am looking forward to finding out.
Might I beg you for a complete version once again? Reading by bits still doesn't work too well for me...
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Date: 2005-09-05 01:21 pm (UTC)I'm sure Zana picked Sanzo without consulting with him at all, but they make a good team! As for Gojyo... He had so much sex in the last two parts, that I was worried I was playing favourites. But I think he is in a good place in this one.
The end of this is stil raw, but I'll email later tonight! Thank you!
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Date: 2005-09-02 09:26 am (UTC)...I could probably take him with my bare hands, but that’d take longer and the food could go cold.
The food--classic!
I can shoot straight
He says it like it is something to be so proud of.
I forgot to ask him how to tell survivors from the rest, and he, as usual, hit me on the head with his staff and yelled at me, which I still thought was mean, but I was getting used to it.
Bhuhahahaha!
...before he got me.
Hell, he even refers to himself like a pet--he got me.
...he could only take maybe four serious fighters at a time.
Only--lol!! Goku is the only person that can make absolutely ridiculous comments seem perfectly reasonable.
He couldn’t tell danger unless it was right on top of him, in fifty paces or so, so it was up to me to keep him safe.
I guess if you have no memory of any past and only have one companion to base your observations on, you wouldn't have any idea what is normal and what is not.
He looked up at me and smiled, I think.
I wonder what Hathal thought of "Goku" - what is his name in this incarnation anyway? - when he first saw him that made him smile--maybe just smiling at his childlike curiosity.
Can't wait to see more!! How will the rescue go? Will Hathal even cooperate? And when will "Gojyo" show up again? Soll will just be tickled pink to see him again I'm sure.
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Date: 2005-09-05 02:08 pm (UTC)I really hope you like the rest! I got the next part from my lovely beta and should be posting very soon!
Thank you so much for reading and commenting!
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Date: 2005-09-02 02:58 pm (UTC)Shift:
This confused the hell outta me at first. Probably because this the only one where you changed any of their sexes. (And I'm sure Gojyo has something to say about that!) Honestly, though, I liked that Marina was still something of a slut, but all she did was play cards with Haim. My tiny heart breaks for her. ;_; And I somehow(silly, I know) thought that this would be a 5/8 het, 3/9 gen fic. It's a good thing that i kept reading, mostly because, even if the 39 was a bit oedipal, your writing was so compelling, it drew me right in-and i never turn away from quality writing, even if the pairing doesn't suit me.
Dance:
RISHI!! Priest and monkey will forever pop into mind whenever I watch Queer as Folk now. From the brevity of compliments, and think I need to read this section again. With visions of oddly dressed teachers dancing in my head. *_*
Expirement:
TEH SEX. ^_^ enuff said.
Very SF and futuristic (mad props here), although I'd come to expect a tragic end as soon as I read about Sam's "power". However, Gojyo and Hakkai trying to shield each other equated to a happy ending, for me anyway.
"Large Scandanavian." Heh.
Party:
Firstly, LUV for Goku's POV, its so endearing, reminescent of Molly in Runaways (Why can't you be like Harry Potter's parents? They're Good wizards. And they're DEAD) Food! Parts of this are too much like the actual Gensomaden Saiyuki for my liking (If i think of this as an AU) but it's redeemed by the cute commentary by Goku, esquire.
Did he spontaneously pop into existance? O_o
If you've pile-driven through that drivel, I'd like you to know that your fic is truly engrossing, and you have an avid reader eagerly anticipating the release of the next chapter!
Love, Death
PS: Yes, i speak like this in real life. I'm trying to atone for the rest of my demographic. <3<3<3<34U!!!!
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Date: 2005-09-05 04:19 pm (UTC)Hee, you saw my tragic ending thing a mile away! So hapy you liked the sex. I just couldn't stop writing 8's POV sex for some reason. And - yeah, I've been to Sweden recently. Some seriously sexy large guys there...
The Party is really similar to the actual manga setting, sort of on purpose, the full circle thing. And yeah, Goku pretty much just appeared there. All will be more or less revealed ^_^
Thank you again, and hope you'll like the rest!
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Date: 2005-09-02 05:33 pm (UTC)I just cannot get enough of your writing! Keep up the great work, darlin!
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Date: 2005-09-05 04:20 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-09-08 10:44 am (UTC)Incidentally, this line "but I could fast without complaining for hours" just amused me no end. Sweet Goku, probably considers the meal-less time between breakfast and lunch a most ascetic endeavor. *grins* Lovely story, and I can't wait to read more. =)
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Date: 2005-09-09 01:02 pm (UTC)So happy you liked, and the next is coming up soon...
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Date: 2005-09-13 08:03 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-09-17 01:49 pm (UTC)