Rennia stood watching her home from afar. She knew what was coming. She knew what was going to happen now.
The sword in her waist felt heavier than it should, and it didn't make her feel safe.
She didn't even know where she was going to stay, or what the place looked like. How dangerous it was. How she'd be treated by this "master" of her mother. She feared for her life. People who labeled themselves "master" even in tutorous position made her weary. She really didn't want to deal with a naggy granny.
Perhaps there was still time to run away with Lyanna, though Lyanna seemed to have given up on the idea. Rennia noticed a woman riding alone with the caravan—a large, heavy, tall horse, locked at the saddle. Her face was obscured by a cloak, but everything about her screamed danger. She had parked right across the street from Rennia's home.
Guess that's my ride.
Suddenly, a hand touched her back. A petite elf girl—Saelyn—gave Rennia a calculating stare and smiled.
"How are you holding up?" she asked.
"Well, my head's still on my shoulders. Why? Why do you care, Saelyn? What do you want? Here to stick your dagger into my pants?"
Saelyn blushed slightly. "Actually, I wouldn't mind if it was the other way around."
Rennia's eyes narrowed. The sexual implication was hard to miss. She knew what Saelyn was getting at—what she wanted. Rennia couldn't give it to her. They known each other for what like a few weeks now?
"You were the least disgusted of the three who found me. Is that what you'd like, Saelyn? This?" She pointed at her groin, where—surprisingly, and much to her own ignorance—a bulge was visible through her clothing. "A dick girl?"
Saelyn held up her hands. Face red. "Calm down, Rennia. I'm here to make peace among our peer group," she said, but her eyes stayed locked on Rennia's bulge. Rennia held her hand over her skirt and raised a brow. She didn't want more sex with this thing. Not now. Probably not ever.
Maybe leaving was the best thing that ever happened to her.
"And yet, only you are here. Where's Kalon, Xoti, Persen, Kalia—hell, where's Edric?"
The elf girl scratched her head. "Edric... uh, yeah. He doesn't want to see you. Like, ever. I'm sorry?"
Rennia's face sagged, her eyes going droopy. "I figured as much. No worries. I'm over him." She sighed, her shoulders pressing inward. "I just wish it didn't cost me everything."
Of course he didn't want to see her. She was an abomination. An affront to purity. A scapegoat for every church's teachings. Hell made manifest. A nightmare. A woman that didn't need him, a woman with a cock.
An awkward silence followed. Of all her peers, Saelyn was the one with the least connection to her—and yet she was the only one who came. Or rather, came to stare at her penis.
Saelyn handed her something from her pocket: a card with lettering inscribed on it.
"It's an magical inscribed telegrapher. Charmed with a spell. Linked back to a place back home. If you need an adventurer or something—or even want to talk—let me know. I'll come running. You just need to write on with ink."
Rennia folded her arms after taking it, reluctantly. "Why do you care all of a sudden?"
"I guess it wouldn't hurt to be blunt. Truth is, I've taken an interest in you." She said it shyly, looking away.
Rennia didn't understand. Elven ways—they could be foreign, xeno, strange. But she understood what this was.
"I know why you want a piece of me. But no. Soon as I find a way, I'm getting rid of it."
Saelyn shrugged. "Sucks. Still, if you ever wanted to fuck—" she leaned forward "—I know how much you got around. So let me know. I'm curious."
That she was.
Rennia turned. "Goodbye, Saelyn."
The elf girl touched her on the shoulder, a little too long. "Where are you going anyway?" she asked.
"To the Selidian Kingdom. The border."
"What?"
Yeah, she was just as surprised.
Rennia stood by the caravan, her belongings packed. She looked back at the sight of Kibblestadt. It was all she really knew. But now it felt cold—like a prison, bigger than it should be.
She spotted Lyanna afar, walking with the clergymen, in the opposite direction. Waving frantically, eyes full of tears. Maybe hunger. Maybe regret. Who knew if they'd ever see each other again?
Rennia waved back.
Her old peers watched from a distance—people she'd bled with for coin and reasons. Kalon, Xoti, Persen, Kalia, Saelyn. They meant nothing now. Just another chapter of her life.
Only Edric was missing, for all the wrong reasons. Her faults.
A few of them waved. Kalon was doing everything to avoid her gaze. She didn't blame him.
"Stupid Eve's apple."
Her mother—her "paternal" mother came out with several backpacks. Rennia gave her a small glance. Behind all that rigid housewife physique was an athlete—muscles she shouldn't have had. And she looked pissed. Rennia was doing everything not to make her more pissed. She hit hard when she was angry.
"Lady Ilna, it's been a long time," the driver addressed her.
Her mother looked unperturbed. "I wouldn't ask you for help if I didn't need it, Tiamael. And please, keep the pleasantries short. I have places to be."
"Typical Ilna. Always brash, rude, or busy. No 'I missed you, Tia.' No 'how's it been, Tia.' No hug?"
"Get on with it. You know where to take her. Hurry up—I want her out of the border before nightfall."
"You're the boss. I'll keep it short, then."
There was an unspoken history between them. Maybe even poetry. Maybe a fiery past beneath the exterior. Rennia didn't have the time to try and make sense of it.
Her mother stuffed one of the backpacks into her chest and locked eyes with her. "I know I'm being unfair. I know I'm being quiet. And I know I'm chasing you away."
Rennia couldn't meet her gaze. "That's the least of it. You're not who I think I thought you were. Mother."
"I know. My master will take care of you. Teach you how to control yourself. Make sure you can fit right in. When the time comes, I'll come find you and explain everything."
Somehow, Rennia didn't believe her. She'd lied about what Rennia was—what else was she hiding?
"Promise." She held up her pinky.
Her mother smiled. "I promise, my little Renny."
Rennia thought of her siblings. It had been a year since they left. "Please. Please. Send something to me. Even a postcard by courier. Maybe from my sisters as well. I haven't seen them in so long. I miss them. I wish I could come with you." She moped.
"Rennia, don't make this hard."
A rock landed inside the open caravan, narrowly missing her. A little midget stood there, shouting.
"Demon! Get lost!"
Rennia's mother lost it. A purple aura surrounded her as she approached the creature. It fled without hesitation.
She always knew her mother had been a high-ranking adventurer before she settled—but what she just did put an insurmountable pressure on Rennia. She could feel it. That power. Radiating.
"I'm surprised you still have that fire in you, Illy," the driver said.
"Don't call me that, Tiamael. Now get lost before I trash your caravan."
"C'mon along then, Rennia!" Tiamael shouted.
Rennia climbed in the back, reluctantly. It smelled like sulfur, gold, and magma. There was no other cargo in the back. She couldn't help but wonder what the fuck this woman was transporting.
"Ahem. Don't mind the smell. I have... unique clients," she said from the front.
Rennia didn't even want to know. There was a cushion, a bed. She wanted sleep. She'd sleep when she couldn't see the town anymore. Or should she? Monsters were always a problem.
Tiamael threw forward her whip, and the carriage steed started moving.
"C'mon, Bexxy, giddy up!"
The horse neighed and started forward. Rennia's mother became smaller and smaller in the distance—but her face stayed ice-cold. Rennia distracted herself checking everything she'd packed. Stored food—at least for another month. Some homemade potions—her mother was a skilled in homebrew alchemy, though she'd never seen her sell them. Must have been something she just picked up.
Clothes that weren't hers were inside, adventurer clothing. Clothes a size too large—but then again, she was larger now.
As they left the gates, more and more townsfolk crowded up. Ysara was there, hair blood-red in the sun. As the caravan passed, Rennia noticed the guard captain looking at her—not with disdain, but with interest.
Her finger was placed on her mouth , as if to say something.
Rennia looked away and called to the front. "Can I put down these curtains?"
"Oh," Tiamael said. "Please do."
As the world to her back closed, Rennia reclined her head on the cushions, waiting as the horse-drawn caravan hobbled and bobbed over rocks and badly paved roads.
Rennia wanted to brood. She'd have watched the scenery, if Kibblestadt wasn't still in view. She was exiled. Humiliated. A cursed thing. And deep inside her was an insatiable craving.
She wanted escape from all of this power. Not to be sent somewhere to be taught how to master something she should never have.
Tiamael got off the saddle, and the horse seemed to carry on its own. She hopped in the back with her.
Rennia's eyes widened. "Shouldn't you be watching him?"
"Don't worry about Bexxy. She's smarter than you, probably."
"Huh?"
The... The hooded woman shook her head, then slowly pulled back her hood.
One thing stood out: silky white hair, dark skin, and reddish eyes that gleamed like rusted embers. Her fingers were long, nails sharp, and her expression was half-lidded and unreadable. Almost hauntingly beautiful. She didn't look a day over forty or fifty—which would've put her in Rennia's mother's age range.
Speaking of Rennia's mother looked just as young as her. Weird. Now that she thought about, just bigger built.
"Sorry for being weird," the woman said, her voice dry but smooth. "I'd like to formally introduce myself."
Rennia nodded, more out of politeness than anything.
"I'm Tiamel of the North. A companion of your mother. Or rather, we were both companions to the Lady I'm taking you to. We used to adventure together."
"I see." Rennia didn't care much. She had just left her story behind—she didn't feel like being dragged into someone else's.
"And you are?"
Did she really have to do this? There was something off about this woman. Something... reptilian. Weird. Her skin had a faint texture to it—almost scaly, now that Rennia looked closer. Maybe a quarter lizardfolk? She was too scared to ask how that might've worked.
"I'm Rennia Perillion," she muttered. "A nobody. I was a level 11 hayseedjack, but now I guess, I'm back to level one because—"
"Because of the knob in your pants!"
The bluntness caught Rennia off guard. Her face tightened.
"I'd know. Ilna had the same problems when she was your age, don't worry she told me everything. Over the orb." Tiamael said.
Embarrasment. Rennia shook, her mother had spoken about her "thing" over a magical voice channel, without inquiry.
"She did?" She replied, to the fact, that her mother seemingly had this predicament at her age. That didn't exactly surprise her, but it did make her feel a little less alone. Like all this was pointing to a hereditary… illness. Or a curse. Or whatever the hell this was.
"Pretty much. Well, can I see it?"
"What?"
"Your cock. Can I see it? I'm curious."
Rennia choked.