Chapter Five

Oridi tensed beneath the grip on her arm, hard steel held in a life-crushing grip. Her eyes flashed around searching for anything she could use to break free. In her natural form the grip on the arm would be far less impeding, the flesh wouldn’t resist and the bone would all but vanish. She could slip free and grab at the blade at her hip to try and turn the tide. 

But no, she was in this frail week form of a Tsenian woman in her thirteenth year. Some random travel Oridi had happened upon during her travels. The girl hadn’t been anything special to Oridi, rounded face, thin body, long black hair, deep brown eyes, a few spots of freckles along her cheeks. She was normal, she’d fit in; or atleast that had been the hope. Now, being dragged through the halls of a guards barracks by her arm and beaten bloody, she was beginning to think it hadn’t been enough. 

“Sir!” The guard, Hagges she’d overhead one of the others say, dropped her in a pile before a man in full plate. Hagges gave a quick salute and, without receiving any acknowledgment, continued. “I found this one trying to break into the Counts private library.”

“Thats a lie!” She shouted. Then threw her eyes to floor. She shouldn’t have said that. 

“Quiet!” Hagges bellowed, then slammed a steel plated boot into her chest.

Oridi coughed and shrank, gasps as the pain tore through her. Breathing was starting to hurt, thinking too, if she didn’t do something soon then this might end up being her last stop. Over before it even begins. 

The man in plate turned and waved away Hagges, stopping another kick before it could connect. He had a square face and light hair, his body was hidden behind a tapered breastplate and thick grieves, but the lines in his face and definition to his neck gave the hint at actual strength behind the metal. Not just another guard, a man who’d actually been trained. 

Of course he was an actual Commander of some force somewhere, so it was to be expected. All of Count Philistines Personal guard commanders were each lesser nobles of the region, each doing their service to win the Counts favour. 

“A lie? Then why were you here?” His words were smooth and steady, each one after another with a careful certainty to them, they were ruined however by his voice. Scratched and low. Years of use either through shouting or smoking, or likely both. 

Oridi bit her lip and cursed as a wave of pain spread through her. Carefully, trying desperately to avoid being discovered by any Arcanists or sensors around, she felt at the constant well, the stream of ethereal energy coursing beneath her skin. She willed her ribs to mend, her organs to heal, but ignored the exterior damage. She needed to think and breathe without nearly convulsing, there was no need for her attackers to notice anything strange. 

“Speak girl, or i’ll have you hanged for insolence and be done with it.”
“I…” Oridi started. What was she to say? No, I wasn’t here to steal from the counts library but actually to beat the man senseless, extract all he knew of her past, and then behead him? That didn’t seem the wisest course. “I’m poor, sir. And the Count has so much… I thought if I could find him reading, or the young lady Elizabeth perhaps…” 

The guard nodded, he seemed to believe her. More than that he seemed to understand her! “I can understand why this may have seemed appealing. You’re not the first to hear of the Young Ladies generosity and seek it out. You are the youngest however…”

“Sir?” Hagges face was growing concerned now. When he’d found her, legs halfway through the open window, he made all sorts of shouts and boasts about how the others would join him in beating her. Of course he’d done plenty of that too before dragging her away. “Were not just going to let her go are we?”

“Hmm. I believe we just might.”

“But-”

“Enough, you beat a young beggar woman younger than our own Mistress and then bring her here to me? To join you? You should have had your fun and been done with it.”

Oridis heart sank

“So I-”

“Go Hagges, but not here. I hate dealing with your messes, they always reek afterwards.” The other men around laughed and Hagges flushed red. Then he reached down and gripped her arm tighter than before. 

“But you,” Oridi called “You said.” A fist bore into Oridis temple and slumped into unconsciousness.

When she awoke she was surprised to find that she was still in motion. Hagges hadn’t stopped yet, but the neighborhood was much different. Through blurry eyes she could make out the stilted stone buildings of Old Dominia, or Old Town now as the Count called it. The home of the Ugupmupian Settlers that had traveled so far from their start, and the original owners of Dominia before the first Crusade. 

Though the buildings were old and pulled tightly together, people still lived within and worked around them. She was being dragged nearer and nearer towards the shadier alleys and paths of Old Town, towards some destination she couldn’t figure out. 

“Wait…” She croaked “Where are we… going?”

“Shuddup you!” Hagges turned and delivered a swift kick to oridis stomach “Lucky I don’t just finish you off here, but i got a deal with a friend here. I can sell you for a few months wages.”

Oridi, gasping for air, fought back an urge to scream for help. But what good would that do? This was Old Town, Count Philistines personal open gate prison, no one would come. No one would care. Instead she took a frantic breath and gripped at the stream within, a chill filled Oridis veins as she tried desperately to calm herself. Using her powers, any powers, were dangerous if you weren’t completley in control emotionally. 

Channeling all her focus on the tight grip of Hagges on her arm, she urged her flesh to melt and swarm around the hand. It was a strange feeling, natural or not, to use her true form. It didn’t feel wrong, in fact it felt more right than wearing the skin of everyone else, but it could unsettle people. From a distance her form looked humanoid, it was humanoid up close too but when face to face one could see the truth. Oridis “Skin” looked to me moving, like a sea of clay mimicking the waves shifting. Her face grew more slender, her form taller, her hair fell off in chunks, swallowed back into her form, and her eyes grew unnaturally wide. She looked barely like a person at all. 

The clothes Oridi had been wearing fell into a pile on the wet cobble street and revealed a body of living clay-like flesh. Lacking any discernible bulges in chest or gender Oridi became a Changeling. Genderless, bodyless, nameless, faceless, the Changelings were always creatures of horror and reverent contempt. One could sneak into your life and kill your friend, take their life, and life it just the same. They could do that with anyone really, so long as they saw you the stories said. 

Unfortunately for both Oridi and the stories, they had almost all been wrong. Oridi had been a young… boy? Girl? The memories were always so shaded and obscured, like snow over a city. It had unnerved Oridi at first, but as time had passed they began to accept their ignorance. It was the gendering that had been right, of course. Changelings could be almost anyone, or almost anyone creature. It was a wide range to choose from, and provided a wealth of options. Oridis talents were so great that some had tried to force Oridi into servitude to be studied. 

They wanted more, one was never enough for any of them. Tsenians. Ugupmupians. Even the damned Kamduszafi would try to answer the questions. Why couldn’t they reproduce? Why were they genderless? Where did their powers come from and how could they change so perfectly? 

These were all questions Oridi had asked themselves during their youth too. Naturally Oridi was unshaped clay, used and Oridi was a person. Man, Woman, Tseni, Kamdu. 

“What the- What in the Goddesses are you?” To Hagges utter shock and Oridis purest satisfaction Hagges answered his own question.

“I’m you.” Hagges, or Oridi in Hagges form rather, closed the small gap between the two and slammed a meaty fist into the mans face. Teeth bent, nose cracked, skull caved in, an enhanced punch was always more lethal up close. Oridi felt a wave of exhaustion flow through and drive them to a knee. Hagges body felt sluggish, unbalanced, improper. Oridi dew in sharp gulps of sickly dank air, the fogs of the evening were rolling in and some creature was said to be prowling the night as of late. 

Slowly Oridi dropped Hagges form and calmed. It exhausted Oridi to use enhancement right after shifting but what could they have done? Hagges form was the only one that had come to mind, but while being held? Were they insane? 

With Deep steadying breathes, Oridis frame rose and filled to that of a tall Tsenian Woman in her mid twenties. High cheeks, longs raven hair, curved figure and cleaver eyes. Oridi was fondest of this girl, Lia as Oridi preferred. It had occurred to Oridi once that naming, gendering, and giving a backstory to their preferred characters was an oddly calming pastime. As Lia, Oridi fit into a role. Tsenian woman of some repute. 

She fished out a pair of worn leather breaches and a tattered wool top shirt. It wasn’t much, but it would be enough to keep her covered. She could focus on actual clothing soon. First she needed a meal, and the wafting scent of tender meats reminded her of it sternly. With a sigh she reached for the coin pouch on Hagges side to find it surprisingly tinkling. With a small smile she yanked the bag free and began to walk towards the tavern.

“Well, I’m in Dominia.” She said “Where the hell are you Hargis?”

The Inns and Taverns of Old Town were as Oridi had been told once before, some of the oldest surviving taverns north of Kamdu Oasis’, not that she particularly cared. The building was long and made from strange stone with many small box like windows peering out. Inside she found herself stunned at the detail in the ceiling. The exterior made the building appear old and worn down, but upon entering she found that the ceiling and walls were lined with intricate patterns. Some depicting indescribable events, others just forming simple patterns. 

The walls were detailed as well, but far less so than the ceiling or support beams above. Comparing the two only made the ones above seem more majestic. People dotted the room, tables filled, hearths lit, bar full. A few tables in the rear were pulled together and house a large number of Ugupmu Soldiers or bandits. The difference was often hard to tell. Short, stout, often bearded, the ancient books labeled the oldest of the Ugupmu as Dwarves. Creatures of stone and rock, but that wasnt the truth. Dwarves were only a tenth of the Ugupmu peoples, the peoples of the high peaks that divide lands.

They werent so easily labeled as the older scholars and Priests had claimed. They’d claimed only the righteous of the Tsenian, the Elves by their label, as worthy to decide the names of the world around them. Then they’d crushed all that disagreed. It hadn’t been until Tsenians began realizing that their perfect form of “Elf” only described a quarter of their population that people began to see the truth. 

Oridi shook her head. That didn’t matter. She was done with that. She couldn’t care about other races, other labels, how the world was broken. She needed to find Hargis and kill Philistine. One thing at a time. 

She took a table near the back, not far from the large party huddled around their tables. Oridi swore she could hear barbs or curses being thrown, but the language was beyond her. Too harsh, too guteral. If they spoke Nian then it wasn’t in any accent she could determine, but more than likely it was that they spoke a variant of their native Ugup. They seemed upset over something important. Oridi thought she could make out gestures like faux salutes and motions of insult. It seemed a heated debate. 

Perhaps they’d failed. Perhaps something in these mens lives had gone as horribly wrong as in hers. She doubted it. It wasn’t likely. Instead, Oridi ordered a fragrant tea that a server later carted over. She didn’t eat, not while her stomach was so tied in knots. 

She’d failed. She’d spent three months, two weeks, and most of her lives savings just to barter the trip to Dominia. She’d come in search of her family, the other Chnagelings that had been created with her. The ones that had abandoned and betrayed her to that bastard kings graces. She felt her fists tighten, balling into fists from anger, but relaxed and pressed her palm against the wood of the table. 

“No.” She said quietly, seeming to be speaking to her tea and no one else. “No, I haven’t failed yet. Hargis is still here, he has to be.”

Hargis had saved her all those years ago. Rescued and freed her from her prison under Viltrans thumb. Robbed the wealthiest and most powerful man in all of Haww-Seela, the Tsenian king and conqueror had been robbed by a small group of Ugupmu and a changeling. They’d escaped and made their way to the desert to wait out the storm of dangers. 

Course that hadn’t lasted long before the weaker and more tired of the Kamdu began talking of offering the group up in exchange for supplies. When Hargis had heard he’d been furious and their group had left that night. Not before Oridi and Hargis had lit the grain silos of their local lords Oasis in retribution, but they had escaped. They always escaped. 

Until they hadn’t. Someone had told her family she lived, they’d come for her. When she refused to join them they’d turned on her and Hargis. She’d been betrayed twice, by the same people. Twice. Oridis blood boiled at that thought. The Family that had abandoned her and betrayed her had tracked her down only to take it all from her again. 

The tea cup cracked and cooled liquid spilled out onto the table before Oridi. She’d been so focused, so angry, that she’d broken the cup. With a thought she closed the cuts on her hands and sighed. Without any danger, Oridi could cast and heal with little effort. The only downside was the itching that came from flesh wounds. She’d always hated that feeling. 

“Miss?” The server, a darkskinned tsenian with blonde hair in a bun approached hesitantly. “It’ll be three silver Sen for the cup.”

“For a cup? In Old Town?”

The server lowered his head a bit at that. Clearly this wasn’t the first time someone had complained. 

“It’s the price, im afraid.” 

“And if I don’t pay it?” Oridi asked, belligerent anger spilling forth onto any target coming within range. 

“Don’t Break, Don’t Pay.” A stocky man with wide arms and an almost wider head siddled up beside the Tsenian. The man was short and wore his beard tied in three different braids. His accent was thick and the words came more roughly spat than spoken.  “Don’t pay for break, I Break you.”

Oridi felt a surge of desire grip her shoulder, begging her to rise. To fight. To refuse to pay. The world had done so much to beat her down, especially today, why couldn’t she just do a little beating of her own? But no, she didn’t rise. She didn’t refuse. Instead she reached into the stolen pouch of Hagges and produced 6 silver Sen. 

When the man looked surprised Oridi shrugged her shoulders and leaned back.

“For another one. I broke the cup before I could taste it.”

“Here I thought you Hate taste.” The man smiled. “Don’t break again.”