Chapter 42 – Aberration
Chapter 42 – Aberration
I ordered the coachman to halt the horses' march amidst the commotion of the open-air market. I stepped down the wooden steps of the carriage and allowed my gaze to rest upon the slave merchant's rustic platform, fixing my attention specifically on the huddled figure of the draconian.
The air inside that black market was stuffy, dense, and terribly heavy, smelling of human sweat, rusted iron, and pure fear. The incessant chatter of dozens of greedy buyers and the constant clinking of copper and silver coins formed an irritating and continuous background noise.
When I began to approach the section reserved for the cages of exotic creatures, the merchant — a thin fellow, gifted with cunning and inquisitive eyes, wearing slightly worn silk clothing and boasting fingers full of brass rings attempting to mimic gold — immediately noticed my presence at the fair. My fine linen attire, upright posture, and the firm way Thys cleared a path for me through the crowd screamed a single word to any clever merchant: nobility. Easy money.
The man rubbed the palms of his hands together with a flattering and greedy smile, bending his body slightly in an exaggerated and theatrical bow:
— Ah, may the deities bless my eyes this morning! A young lord of golden cradle honoring my humble tent with your presence! You are most welcome, milord. By any chance, are you looking for something worthy of inheriting the lands or garnishing the halls of your prestigious family? A servant to carry your scrolls and books, or perhaps... — his words ran out of breath.
I noticed that his cunning eyes completely ignored the exposed forest elves and robustly built warriors, fixing themselves directly on the reinforced iron cage positioned in the shadiest corner of the tent. Inside, huddled over a handful of dirty straw, resided the little draconian.
As I took the first firm step toward the creature, a bizarre and uncomfortable sensation struck the limits of my psionic mind. It was not a physical sound, but a sharp pressure behind my eyes, accompanied by a light and steady buzzing, similar to the echo of a distant insect swarm. The little draconian girl, whose opaque scales oscillated between worn bronze and a sickly violet, perceived my approach through the bars. She raised her head abruptly; her eyes, shining like living electricity and blue sparks, fixed directly on mine.
For the first time in days of confinement, the little creature did not growl at the public. The chaotic buzzing in my head ceased for a fraction of a second, replaced by a warm and comforting sensation, almost like the rustic crackling of a fireplace in the middle of winter. She seemed genuinely curious about me.
The merchant caught my immediate interest and took a quick step forward, partially blocking my line of vision with open hands, acting like a merchant about to close the big deal of his life:
— Ah... I see milord possesses an impeccable eye for what is truly... exotic at the borders — he murmured, lowering his voice tone to simulate a confidential secret. — She is a mixed-lineage rarity, captured in the ancient ruins of the south. Still a whelp, easy to tame and mold with the correct whip. But do not let her stunted size fool you; her blood boils with the raw power of lightning and fire. Of course... to a common buyer or a farmer, she represents an intolerable risk. But to a brilliant mind and a powerful, rich house like yours? She will manifest as an invaluable weapon for the future of your patrols.
The man looked at me sideways, evaluating each of my facial reactions, mentally probing to discover how deep the pockets of my tunic were:
— What do you say, young master? Would you like me to order my baton-wielding guards to make her demonstrate a bit of that electrical spark, or do you prefer to go straight to the starting price to seal the papyrus?
I fixed my eyes on the brass merchant, keeping my focus split with the draconian. That man had no idea of the absurd power and modern mind of Téia hidden beneath my posture of a young aristocrat of House Vance. He kept smiling with joined hands, believing he was about to pluck a bored boy.
But beneath the surface, my concentration was total. By activating my Psychometry, I focused my mind on the iron cage's bars and the infected straw on the floor. Fragments of alien and violent memories invaded my psionic channels: I felt the echo of dread from other creatures that had rotted in there, the rough touch of the henchmen's thick leather gloves, and the cold violence of the iron whip used to tame the prisoners. My vision of tomorrow whispered a subtle warning, like an icy shiver down the spine: if this girl remained confined in that rot, her childish mind would break permanently, turning her into an insane and uncontrollable monster.
Ignoring the merchant's flattering chatter, I projected my thoughts through my mental whisper, channeling my own energy in a clean, direct, and surgical manner. I extended the invisible hand of my mind toward the little draconian.
— _Do you want my help to get out of this place?_ — I asked straight into her consciousness.
The girl's reaction was immediate and violent. When my clean voice echoed in her mind, the draconian's head whipped up with a snap. Her electric eyes widened in shock. She had never experienced contact with a mind as organized, cold, and powerful as mine; to her mental perception, other mages' telepathy was merely static, pain, and noise, but my voice emerged like a beacon in the darkness.
She did not yet know how to respond using structured words or human grammar, but her answer came in an involuntary psionic explosion of pure emotion straight into my head: it was a mixture of desperate relief, the fragmented glimpse of a forest burning under blue flames, and the mental image of two childish claws grasping the iron bars. She wanted out. She accepted my help.
The merchant swallowed hard upon noticing the firm tone of voice and the authority with which I assumed the posture. My presence and the absolute control I demonstrated — even without him comprehending the extent of my invisible abilities — began to make him sweat coldly under his worn silk collar.
When I projected my secondary mental command to the little draconian — _Calm down, pull back the sparks. Soon everything will be resolved by me_ —, her mind latched onto that order like a lifeline of salvation in the middle of the storm. The chaotic buzzing in the air ceased completely in the blink of an eye. The abrupt cold and blue sparks disappeared from the bars. She pulled her legs against her chest under her scales, fixed her eyes on me, and, for the first time in weeks at the fair, breathed deeply, completely calm and tame.
The man looked at the cage, impressed and open-mouthed at the ease with which a twelve-year-old boy had tamed the creature's fury just with the power of his gaze. When I fired the direct question and coldly warned him not to be tangled up with price chatter, his flattering smile withered slightly, replaced by respect and real fear of losing a good sale to someone who clearly knew what they were doing in the black market.
— Ah... a pragmatic and concise dealer. I understand, milord, I understand your point perfectly — he said, lowering his hands and assuming a more professional posture, although his legs were still trembling slightly. — I will not lie to a man of your noble stature. Yes, she carries... flesh instabilities. Her temperament affects the ambient temperature and she terrifies the other slaves in the tent. I intended to ask three hundred gold coins from gladiators' buyers, but for your prestigious house... two hundred legitimate gold pieces. It is my absolute limit so as not to bitterness a loss in accounting.
Before issuing my final response, my gaze drifted to the furthest corner of the tent, where the other two fair prisoners were confined: Miri, the brown-furred rabbit heteromorph, and the young tree elf, Eradan.
By focusing my psionic abilities in their direction, I gathered the following data:
Through the mental whisper on the rabbit, I felt that the gears of her mind were working a thousand miles an hour. Miri was not paralyzed by the dread of the whip; she was coldly calculating escape routes and trying to read our lip movements to decipher whether my presence was a threat or a golden opportunity for her salvation. Her long honey-colored ears were drooping, but completely tense, catching every clink of coins.
Through my empathy with the elf, I saw that the forest boy was terribly thin, sporting bruised knees against the stone and large red eyes from crying so much out of loneliness. My psychometry showed and whispered a sad, funeral echo: if that boy were sold to a cruel master or sent to heavy mine work, he would wither and die of deep sadness like a plant deprived of sun in less than a month.
The merchant followed the trajectory of my gaze and realized that I was evaluating the complete batch of cages. His brass eyes shone again with pure mercantile greed, seeing the golden opportunity to make a triple sale and clean out his most difficult fair cubicles.
— Ah! I see milord possesses a generous heart... or perhaps needs a complete household staff for your new fief? — the man said, pointing his finger full of fake rings at the other two. — That one there is a prairie rabbit, excellent with accounts, oratory, and warehouse inventories, very docile in handling. And the boy... well, he is a legitimate tree elf, great for tending gardens, seeds, or orchards on your property. If milord takes the draconian and both... I can close a flat gold package for everything.
He rubbed his agile fingers, awaiting my counter-proposal of coins.
I took a deep breath and activated my vision of tomorrow, closing my eyelids for a mere fraction of a second. In my mind, probability lines unfolded like translucent scrolls, revealing the next 3 seconds of the merchant's future reactions: if I offered four hundred gold coins coldly and directly, he would try to bargain. But if I applied a subtle demonstration of my Telekinesis during the offer, the panic of dealing with a dangerous noble would make him swallow his pride.
Back to the tent's physical reality, I opened my eyes, fixed my icy gaze on the merchant, and threw out my proposal with total authority. At the exact same moment, I channeled an invisible fraction of psionic energy: the wooden table where he rested his ledger gave a dry snap and one of the empty chairs in the background dragged itself a few inches alone across the floor.
— Four hundred gold coins for the entire batch — I announced, with a calm voice, but cutting like northern mountain ice. — Not a single copper piece more. I know perfectly well the work and trouble they will give you if they stay locked up here, and you know very well that I am your best option to take them off your hands today.
The merchant looked at the chair that had moved without wind, then looked at the draconian who remained mysteriously silent and tame under my mental command, and finally fixed his eyes on me. Cold sweat trickled down his thin neck. His greed battled against the pure survival instinct of his flesh. He knew he was losing the profit margin he planned to extract with the elf, but the fear of angering a noble endowed with such invisible power spoke much louder in his consciousness.
He swallowed hard with difficulty, wiped his trembling hands on his silk trousers, and forced a yellow, awkward smile, bowing deeply:
— Four hundred gold coins? For the complete batch of cages? — stuttered the man, quickly looking at his own baton-wielding guards, who also looked intimidated and preferred to look away. — Well then, milord! A businessman of your stature and prestigious house does not accept refusals. Four hundred gold coins. It is a true robbery... against my own pocket, but I cherish friendship and future trade with the marquisate.
He extended his trembling hand, waiting for the coins to sign the release papers and hand over the iron keys. In the corner, the long ears of the rabbit Miri lifted abruptly upon hearing the outcome of the agreement, and the young elf Eradan looked in my direction with a spark of hope shining in his tear-filled eyes.
With a subtle wave of my hand, Thys stepped forward with her usual impeccable posture, opened a thick leather bag, and began counting the four hundred gold coins on the wooden table. The metallic and heavy sound of gold hitting the wood made the merchant's eyes shine with relief, dissipating the dread he felt. He collected piece by piece with agility, testing the weight in his calloused fingers.
When I asked the question aristocratically, revealing that this was my first purchase in the slave market, the man let out a nervous, flattering giggle:
— Ah, the innocence of a young master's first purchase! It is an honor and a privilege to introduce you to business, milord — he said, pulling three rolls of ancient-looking parchment and a small bone dagger from a locked drawer. — For the elf and the rabbit, the process is purely legal and traditional. These scrolls are the Titles of Ownership. They contain the rustic physical description of each and the wax stamp of the black market syndicate. Whoever holds the papyrus is the legal owner under the law of men. No magic or arcane tethers.
He then pointed his finger at the third parchment, this one containing reddish, rough runes that seemed to pulse subtly on the table.
— Now, for the little draconian over there... the situation is more complicated, milord. As milord well noted through her gaze, she carries... mind instabilities. Arena monster and gladiator buyers use the Bound Blood Contract. Milord makes a quick cut and drips a drop of your noble blood onto this central rune, and we force the whelp to do the same. A mystic bond of basic soul submission is sealed. If she tries to use that static or plasma breath against milord, the contract burns her mind with unbearable pain, forcing blind obedience. It is the only safe way to bring such a creature into a noble property without her driving the servants insane.
He extended the small bone dagger in my direction, offering the hilt with a trembling bow.
I ignored the object and projected my thoughts deeply, firmly, and welcomingly straight into the little draconian's mind, using our invisible connection. My promise echoed in her consciousness not as a punishment threat, but as an authentic lifeline:
— _Do you agree to make this contract with me? If you accept of your own free will, I swear upon my honor that not only will I protect you from chains, but I will teach you to control this energy and you will never again be treated like an aberration by this world._
The mention of the term aberration echoed in her childish mind with the weight of past traumas and violence, but my vow of protection and doctrine shone much brighter. Through the mental bond, I felt her mind hesitate for a fraction of a second, taken by the natural dread of pain. However, upon fixing her electric eyes on mine and feeling the unshakeable stability of my mind, she made her decision.
The girl did not shrink back into the straw anymore. She stood up slowly, planted her scaly little feet on the cage floor, and gave a subtle, firm nod in my direction. Through the whisper bond came a pure response devoid of human words: total acceptance accompanied by a deep feeling of trust. She accepted the pact because she trusted me.
I took the small bone dagger offered by the merchant, made a quick cut on my own finger, and mentally ordered her to do the same, collecting Akra's drop of blood without allowing the platform guards' rough hands to touch her skin. The runic contract glowed on the table, and the mystic bond closed by mutual consent. However, because of my mind's invisible support, the spell settled merely as a clear, focused, and painless channel between us. The little girl breathed a sigh of relief when the gate opened and stepped forward, timidly holding onto the hem of my new linen coat.
As the henchmen unlocked the other two cells, I directed my mind to all three at the same time. Expanding my Telepathy, I created a private, secure, and focused mental channel directly into the rabbit's and the young elf's heads, also encompassing the draconian.
— _Do not worry, stay calm_ — I projected my thoughts into their minds with total firmness and warmth — _I am sorting out the business and will get both of you out of this situation right now. But I need to know one thing before we seal the physical papers: what kind of contract do you prefer me to sign with the merchant? Do you prefer the blood bond, like I did with the little dragoness, or the normal paper contract? Do not be afraid; I will not mistreat you under my roof. I strictly need loyal arms and help for my tasks starting today._
The reaction in the group's mind was immediate and full of astonishment at such an organized mental intrusion.
The long ears of Miri the rabbit jumped in surprise upon hearing my voice directly inside her head. She released the air from her lungs forcefully, and her mind, previously full of wild escape plans, calmed down instantly upon understanding the generous terms. She responded mentally very quickly and focused:
— _Common paper and syndicate stamp contract, please, milord! Paper accepts anything, and I am simply great with bureaucracy and guild notes. If milord keeps the word to keep the whip away from our skin, I swear I will make every gold coin spent in this tent yield triple in your property's finances!_
Eradan the elf widened his firefly-bright eyes, looking in my direction as if he were seeing an earthly god emerge in the market. A clean tear cut through the dust of his infant face. He hugged his crooked oak staff and thought back, his thought line trembling with astonishment:
— _Th... the common paper contract, sir... I swear to watch over your lands, orchards, and everything green that grows on them if milord keeps me far away from iron chains and captors' steel..._
Back to physical reality and the present, I turned to merchant Barnaby and threw the heavy bag with the remaining four hundred gold coins onto the wooden table, definitively closing the deal with all three.
The merchant grabbed the gold with agility, his eyes shining with the heavy sound of the metal, and handed the property scrolls and the bunch of iron keys to Thys. However, as soon as the guards unlocked the padlocks and opened the cell doors, the man's flattering smile froze on his face.
He was completely shocked, staring at the cage with wide eyes. Barnaby had no idea of the telepathic dialogue that had just taken place inside our heads. To him, it was an absolute mystery to see that the unstable dragoness no longer growled, that the skittish rabbit did not try to run away, and that the tearful elf walked with his head held high. All three stepped out of the cages completely tame and domesticated, moving silently to position themselves behind me, as if I were their rightful sovereign.
— _But what the hell is going on?_ — thought the merchant, as a drop of sweat trickled down his neck before that implicit display of power.
Taking advantage of his astonishment and maintaining my concise aristocratic posture, I asked the direct question out loud:
— How does commerce work in this village? I have never bought slaves before and do not intend to make them walk around wearing filthy cage rags. Where can I acquire worthy attire for each one's functions in this district?
Wiping his trembling hands on his trousers to hide his nervousness, Barnaby bowed deeply, anxious to render his final service and see such a mysterious client leave:
— It is an honor to introduce you to North Gate business, milord — he stammered, pointing with his finger full of fake rings toward the alley's side exit. — Upon leaving the black market, turn left on the main street and look for Master Jean's Tailor Shop. It is a discreet tent, but he serves the court and the wealthiest merchants. Tell them Barnaby sent you and he will provide fine linen mantles, leather boots, and whatever else is necessary to dress them up to your house's dignity.
I merely nodded and turned my back, leading the group out of the dark fair.
— Upon leaving the black market alley, turn left on the main street and look for Master Jean's Tailor Shop, milord. It is a discreet shop, but he serves the high nobility and the border's wealthiest merchants. Tell them Barnaby sent you and he will provide fine linen mantles, leather boots, and whatever is necessary to dress them up to your house's dignity.
I walked with my three new protégés through the stone alleys toward the main street, transmitting my orders through the collective mental bond:
— _We will often converse through this invisible whisper... I need to purchase worthy attire for each of your functions. From now on, we need to build mutual trust in our routine, so if there is any problem or discomfort, let me know through the bond. After we pick up the clothes, you will enter my travel carriage. We have a severe journey of three more carriage days on the road until we reach our destination. This dark linen maid marching behind us is Thys, my caregiver of utmost trust since my childhood... I am heading north to meet the one slated to be my bride, a heteromorph of the tiger-men lineage of House Aurelius. I will reside in this northern region for two long, full years, and that will be the exact duration of your employment contract. After that period ends, if you wish to continue serving my person, you may return with me to my father's territory; otherwise, I pledge my word of nobility that I will free all three from any tether and hand over the letters of manumission. Do you agree with these rustic terms?_
The mental responses arose immediately, each reflecting the temperament and ticks of their races:
Miri wagged her long ears with clear satisfaction upon hearing about the fixed period of two springs and the promise of legal manumission. She responded promptly, with agile reasoning:
— _Two springs of contract? And with clear terms of freedom engraved on papyrus? It is a more than fair arrangement, milord! And a heteromorphic bride from the tiger lineage... Interesting, those beasts tend to be extremely proud and feisty, but very fair if treated well in commerce. Consider me in total agreement with the clauses. And if your caregiver Thys needs assistance with supply logistics for the travel days, I know exactly how to stock the carriage spending very little gold at inns._
Eradan the elf walked with his posture a bit more upright over the stones, clutching his apprentice staff less tightly against his chest. The perspective of a master seeking trust and a determined deadline brought a healthy color back to his thin cheeks:
— _I accept the terms, sir... and fully agree with the march. Days away from city chains seem like a blessing from the forest deities. If your bride has an appreciation for nature, I swear to make the flowers and sprouts of your new garden grow strong and bloom to welcome her in abundance._
Little Akra lightly pulled the fabric of my tunic collar with her small childish claws, ensuring she would not get lost from my silhouette in the street crowd. Through the mental channel, she sent no complex phrases or commercial terms, but rather a purest feeling of total acceptance, comfort, and instinctive loyalty. To her mindset, the technical concept of two years or contract mattered infinitely less than my Téia promise that I would teach her to tame electricity and not be treated like a natural aberration. She entirely agreed with her destiny by my side.
We entered Master Jean's Tailor Shop. The tailor, a man of impeccable posture sporting a linen measuring tape tied around his neck, looked with surprise at our exotic group, but immediately recognized my aristocratic bearing and the authority of my presence:
— I heard through merchant Barnaby that milord offers quality attire for fair values, Mr. Jean — I announced, settling onto the salon's velvet divan. — I need sturdy clothing and footwear for these three protégés, at least five complete changes for each. I have specific preferences: for the rabbit, practical merchant outfits full of pockets for coins; for the draconian, loose clothing of thick cotton and flexible leather that facilitates combat mobility and withstands the heat of her scales; and for the elf, wide, fluid mantles of green tones typical of herbalism apprentices. I will also need two heavy changes of winter wool for each to face the northern cold. Miri will conduct the value negotiations with milord. I will simply await the end to make the gold payment.
Master Jean executed an impeccable bow, sniffing out the good deal:
— You are most welcome to my humble workshop, milord. We will take care of absolutely everything with needle rigor.
Miri stepped forward with her ears perked up, taking the reins of negotiations with Jean brilliantly. Her snout moved rapidly as she examined the density of raw linen with her claws, haggling over every yard and demanding close-batch discounts that made the tailor let out defeated sighs, yet surrendered to the rabbit's mercantile skill.
Meanwhile, the assistants measured little Akra, separating loose pants that gave total mobility to her hyperactive movements, and fitted long mantles in moss-green tones for Eradan, who held his oak branch with visible pride upon feeling the soft touch of clean fabrics.
After sewing time passed, travel trunks were stocked and Miri checked seam by seam and pair of shoes by pair of shoes, ensuring the lot's perfection. She approached my divan with a perfectly organized sheet of ledger parchment, executing a slight bow:
— Everything properly sorted and checked under my count, milord! We managed five changes of excellent clothing for each one's functions, soft and sturdy leather boots for the dirt road, besides the two heavy winter wool changes from the genuine hill wool. Thanks to a small... adjustment in wholesale values that I negotiated with Master Jean, the total price turned out excellent and well below what he would normally charge careless nobility.
The three were already wearing their first changes of clean clothing, looking completely transformed and worthy of accompanying House Vance along the paths. I paid the agreed gold coins to Mr. Jean and led the entire group out of the tailor shop, where the immense dark carriage with bronze details and velvet upholstery awaited us on the main street.
Before we climbed the vehicle's steps, I turned to my caregiver, testing the logistical parameters of our route:
— Thys, will we have sufficient provisions and food in the carriage storeroom to sustain three more hungry mouths along the paths, or will it be necessary to make extra food purchases in the villages? What manifests as your road advice?
Thys stepped forward with a respectful bow, maintaining that serene and familiar countenance of someone who had cared for me since my earliest life cycles. She evaluated the size of the three new members and responded in her soft, entirely practical voice:
— My young master, our carriage stocks were originally supplied with fine travel rations and dry supplies strictly calculated for both of us and the marquisate's coachmen, containing only a basic safety margin. With three more mouths integrated into the group — two of them growing children and a heteromorphic rabbit whom I presume has a very specific fresh vegetable diet —, our current stock will last at most three or four days comfortably in the mugs.
She made a brief structural pause, pointing to the northern route leather map:
— My administrative advice is not to overload the carriage's structure and weight with more dry food bales now. Since we have a severe journey of road days ahead until we reach the tiger-men domains, the wisest course is to maintain the original travel plan and execute two strategic stops at road inns along the way, approximately on the first and third march days. This will allow us to buy fresh vegetables and grains for Miri and Eradan, secure fresh, strong meat to maintain vigor and calm little Akra's draconian temperament, and grant the three an opportunity to stretch their legs and sleep in real beds, decreasing confinement stress before we cross the border.
Miri, upon hearing the caregiver's logic, raised one of her honey-colored ears and nodded discreetly, demonstrating total compliance with the supply organization:
— Your words are entirely sensible, Thys. We will move immediately, we have already lost valuable road time with these negotiations — I decreed, ordering everyone to board.
As the carriage's heavy doors closed with a dull thud, the noise of the black market and the North Gate fair was left behind, replaced by the carriage's smooth sway. The horses initiated the march and we finally took the long northern road.
Inside the velvet upholstery, the initial mood was one of reverent silence. Miri accommodated her new merchant clothes while looking intently out the window; Eradan curled up on the bench, marveling at the soft comfort and carefully holding his staff; and little Akra sat right on the carriage floor, tucked close to my feet, pulling her knees to her chest under the loose leather clothes and fixing her electric eyes on mine. Through the mental bond, I felt that her mind had finally found peace.
Thys closed the leather map, adjusted her apron, and broke the vehicle's silence, fixing her nurse curiosity upon my features:
— My young master... milord has always voiced fierce and noisy opposition against hiring or acquiring slaves in castle meetings. What made your mind change its stance so suddenly in this border fair?
I rested my head against the velvet upholstery, responding with total calmness:
— First of all, the one who anomalously caught my attention was the little dragoness over in the corner. She carries mental problems and overloads that my gifts can perfectly help solve; she, in her misunderstood nature, is partly very similar to my own. And when I cast my eyes upon that stunted elf isolated in the straw, it was impossible not to feel compassion for his condition; I knew very well his life would be a hell of suffering if any rough farmer or miner bought him. Finally, regarding the rabbit... we urgently need someone gifted with silver tongue and mercantile expertise to help us during these two years of exile in the task of acquiring supplies, fabrics, and dealing with local fairs. I am fully aware that only your effort, Thys, would not suffice to manage the provisions and daily chores of our new northern dwelling. Miri will be of great value in easing the weight from your domestic shoulders.
Thys smiled tenderly, understanding my intention behind her decisions, and went back to monitoring the path through the window. The carriage advanced firmly along packed dirt roads, cutting through temperate woods. Our long three-day journey toward the capital Felis-Tigris and the meeting with my future tiger heteromorphic bride had officially begun under the Aegis-Moon sky.
