The Flesh is (Not) Weak [013-014]

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[013] [Building]

The storm raged outside, and Damon was drenched, cold, and exhausted. It had been a long walk back while dragging the damn thing, and he was mostly sure morning had come rolling over not that long ago. And the first thing he’d done was drop the familiar’s corpse next to his place and drag his ass to the knight’s house once sure said knight was still alive.

More than one set of eyes was peering at him from the other houses, and Damon had neither the patience nor energy to attempt figuring out what was going on. Idina, the knight’s daughter, had opened the door to his knocking. Pale, terrified, trembling, but her shoulders were squared off, her nose raised. “I am ready.” She swallowed, closing her eyes. “I only ask that it be quick.”

Damon leveled a gaze exhausted beyond belief. “I have questions, you will answer them, and then I will go to sleep and eat. May I come inside or would you rather just talk here?”

Idina blanched, looking at him with wide eyes and apprehension. Her eyes shot past Damon and to that of the other villagers, the ones trying to discreetly peek through the windows. “... inside.” She muttered, stepping back.

Damon ducked under the doorframe. “Thank you.” He said, following her towards the kitchen and keeping an eye out. Last thing he wanted was getting jumped or something. He sat heavily, and she did the same at the other side of the table. “Give me the simple of it. What was your father doing?”

“Didn’t you…?”

“I asked him a few questions. But I will ask more later.” He replied. “And I will be making sure whether your answers match.”

There was a pause, she nodded, lowering her head. “He killed users to sell their axons.”

The declaration felt hollow to Damon, perhaps he was just too tired. Still, he made a show to curl his lips and remain silent, prompting Idina to continue.

“I… would lead them towards the gaper cave, let them fight things out. Father’s familiar would gather the axon if they lost, and if they won…” She swallowed thickly. “He would… finish them.” She shrunk in her seat, becoming quiet, golden hair shifting under the dim artificial lights glowing around the kitchen.

“And the man you took there when I woke up? Was he a user too?”

“No.” She shook her head. “He… bought the axons.” She turned to look the other way, pained eyes lowering to the floor.

That gave Damon pause. “Why did you take him there if he was the buyer?”

“He’d show up every season and buy the axons, but father hadn’t gathered enough this time. The man was threatening father, to reveal what he’d done. I… I told him we had a place where we hid them, away from where it might be found by wandering eyes, and…”

Damon nodded, crossing his arms.

“Why wasn’t your father’s familiar there?”

“The two users in the village.” She swallowed.

“What about them?”

Idina blinked surprised. “They… suspected him?”

“Is that a question?”

“Do you not hear their hymn?”

Damon leaned back, crossing his arms. “Explain it like I didn’t.”

“It’s thick with distrust, they knew something was up. If the familiar left with me and the merchant but only I and the merchant came back, it would have cornered father.”

“So he sent you, someone who can’t fight because you’re not a knight or a user, on what amounted to a suicide mission to get rid of the threat of being exposed.”

“He was desperate.” Idina lowered her head, barely whispering the words, lips curled and hands clenched into fists. She made a soft sobbing noise.

Damon felt his anger flare, frayed nerves and exhaustion gnawing at him. He pushed it back. “What did he plan to do after killing him? Escape?”

Idina looked at him as if he’d grown a second head. “My father is a knight.”

“And?”

“Knights cannot leave the place they were assigned to protect. It is an edict.” Her head hung low. “He wanted me to take the gold and run, but I…” Idina went quiet, shivering a little as she became still.

Damon held back from groaning. It was easy to figure out where things come from. Isolated place, the only figure with power, unable to leave, resentment or greed at a stunted future… that felt like a recipe for corruption. Still, the knight would not find much sympathy from him. With a slight shake of his head, he turned to focus on the other issue at hand.

“In the cave, the gaper cave. Have you ever seen something there regarding Janus? Inscriptions, signs? Anything that might explain why I showed up there?”

She shook her head. “It’s always just been a gaper cave. It’s been visited a thousand times over, there are no signs of there being ruins there or it would’ve been dug out already.”

Damon didn’t like that, but he’d have to survey the area once he had the chance anyway. Best wait for Sybil and Han to come back from their hunt before doing anything, though. They would have a better clue about what to look for than him. At the very least, they’d be able to spot things he might miss.

“Are you… going to kill me now?”

“No.” The answer was immediate, Damon shook his head. “You’re going to stay here. What comes after will depend on my friends. Same goes for your father.” He paused a second, glancing at her more carefully. “But if you try to run, I’ll bring you back. And I won't be in a good mood.”

She shuddered and nodded, lowering her head further.

Damon wanted to groan, he loathed this, the bad news, the people caught in the middle of ugly things. He sighed, standing up and turning to the door, only then noticing the mud and water he’d trailed on his way inside.

“Sorry for making a mess.”

He wasn’t sure what else to say, so he left.

Darkness and the cold rain greeted him again. It gave his exhausted mind a jostle, enough for him to drag himself through the mud and towards the house he was staying at. His mind tried to move through the situation. Had Idina been coerced into this? Willing accomplice? The edicts likely also made it even more convoluted. He’d need more context and nuance about the situation, and to get that from a less biased source, he’d need to wait for the other two.

Damon’s thoughts came to a grinding halt when he spotted a lone figure in front of his house. A woman. His gaze flickered at her hands to confirm she was unarmed before he relaxed his shoulders and approached. She lowered her cowl as he got closer, it was Linda. She’d stood right at the house entrance, clearly waiting for him. Her eyes kept flickering towards the robot’s corpse and the dull orange lens atop the pile of scrap as if afraid it might come back to life.

“Bit late for visitors.” Damon commented wearily. “I think business can wait until morning.”

“Are you going to kill us?”

The question was blunt, direct; it caught him off balance. “What?”

“We knew what the knight was doing. But he threatened us.” She stood straight, pressing her hand against the center of her chest, the cloak parting to reveal her shirt was exposing more cleavage than her usual. “I’m willing to pay. It might not be much, but I’ve saved some gold over the years. And if that isn’t enough…”

Damon loathed how his eyes had wandered down her body, he should be too tired and cold to feel that way about anything right now. He rubbed at the bridge of his nose, focusing on the sucky cold dampness all around him. “Look. I don’t want to kill or threaten anyone. So I’m going to get some food, dry off, and go to sleep.” He let out a long, tired sigh. “As far as I’m concerned, some asshole wanted to kill me and I defended myself. So now I’m going to try to contact the local authorities and let them handle the mess.”

Linda frowned. “You’re a user.”

“And?”

“The knight is incapacitated, there are no other users nearby. You are the local authority.”

“Explain it to me like my brain is half dead from having had to chase down a murder robot, then fight it, and then drag it back here with my bare feet.”

She looked at him with a confused frown. “If a monster shows up, if you don’t kill it, we won’t last long. If you wish to kill anyone, no one could stop you. If you want something, who would stop you?”

Coercion through being the biggest stick in the area.

Damon could only groan in frustration. “Yeah, that’s a load of bullshit I am definitely not qualified to tackle. I’m going to sleep now.” He reached for the door, unlocking it and swinging it open. “But to reiterate, no, not killing anyone, no, not going to rob any of you, either. And if a monster shows up we’ll figure out what the fuck needs to be done. Go and get some rest, Linda, we all need it.”

She stared at him, appearing unsure of his words, eyes lingering between the door to his house and the rest of the village. Her gaze returned to his own, and down to his naked feet. Linda grimaced. “I’ll have your boots finished in two days.”

“Thank you.”

He watched her go as she ran off back to her house. He just went inside his own, closed and locked the doors, checked the windows, and confirmed the knight was alive even if unconscious or asleep. Stripping off the drenched clothes and drying off, he ate some food, and nearly stumbled his way to his bedroom.

The lights were out before his head touched the pillow.

***

The next day had him waking up to very loud knocking at the house’s door. He could barely guess at the time of day with the raging storm. Definitely not early morning, at least.

Damon’s everything hurt, particularly his feet. Putting on the wooden flip-flops, he made his way down, wincing every step of the way. A quick precautionary check with the map. It was Linda again, she looked a lot better than the previous night, less fearful, more determined. The frown looked better on her than hesitant nervousness, at least.

“Here.” The woman shoved a basket into his arms, stepping into the house without asking for permission as she removed the cape and hung it near the door. Her black hair was carefully combed into a French braid. And she was wearing a simple plain brown dress that hugged her chest tightly, with pants underneath.

The woman’s gaze lingered on the door leading to the washroom, lips pursing with disgust. With a shake of her head, she turned to look around the kitchen, then turned back to him. “Have you eaten anything that wasn’t raw or salted?”

“Why are you here?”

“I’m the villager you’re most friendly with, and I want to pay my dues.”

“You don’t owe me anything.” He replied, leaning against the wall. “Actually, I’m still short on paying for those boots you’re making.”

“Last night, I realized you don’t really know how things are handled around here.”

Damon crossed his arms. “An understatement, but continue.”

Her finger pointed at the door. “He killed the owners of this house because they’d considered revealing what was going on to other users. They were good friends. This is the least I can do.”

“It was in self-defense. You don’t owe me anything.”

“And that’s for me to decide.” She put her hands on her hips, looking around for a moment, her long silver ears glittering under the dim light that came in through the window. “Food sounds like a good place to start. I overheard how much you eat from your friends. Might as well be something decent rather than trail rations.”

Damon didn’t reply, staring in disbelief at her as she began pulling out ingredients from the pantry. Whatever she had in mind, she seemed determined about it, and he wasn’t about to start an argument over what effectively amounted to free food. He did, however, turn his thoughts to something that was gnawing at him.

“You can’t defend yourself from monsters because of the edicts of peace, right?”

“You say that as if it weren’t the way things work.”

“Not where I’m from.” He replied. “If you can’t willingly harm anyone, then what happens if someone needs to be amputated for health reasons?”

“We take them to the nearest user or knight.” She answered, shifting her focus to the small pit that served as a stove. “And if you’re in a fancy city, there are medical robots under the guidance of the Goddess Rali.”

“Then what about traps?”

“Hm?” She threw some wood into the stove. Her hand reached into the metal box and the fire lit up almost instantly, much to Damon’s surprise. “What about them?”

“Could you, for example, make traps to kill monsters?”

“No.” She waved him off. “Edicts aside, it’s easier to rely on users and knights to handle the monsters. This area is relatively peaceful in that regard.”

“Let’s ignore the knights and users part. What if you just made a bit of the trap?”

“Intent is what matters.” Linda didn’t miss a beat. “If my actions are with the intent or knowledge that it is meant or likely to cause harm, I will become paralyzed with fear.”

“But what if I ask you to make a knife? Or tell you to gather wood so I can make a spear so someone else can stab a monster with it?”

“That is a potential for harm, not an intent to cause harm myself.” She shrugged nonchalantly.

“Oh.” Damon took a moment, rubbing his chin. “You mentioned the village couldn’t defend themselves.” A grin spread across his lips. “How would you like to change that?”

Linda looked at him like he’d grown a second head.

***

After nearly five days out in the wilds, Han and Sybil looked as exhausted as they felt. At least the rain had stopped after the second night. But they were worn out all the same, their clothes were singed, and their gazes weary. The duo had been half-expecting an ambush at some point of their return trip; the knight had certainly been far too elated with their departure to fight the monster lord. But aside from some teethers, there had not been any threats waiting for them. The return trip had become a push to get back to the village and check on Damon’s situation as soon as they could. The hunt had dragged too long for their liking.

So it was with no small amount of surprise that they encountered half the village outside the protective wall. Said villagers were moving between the village proper and the holes, a few rested next to a hole, others were digging said holes. Enormous holes, too. At least twice the length of a man and just as deep.

Sybil pulled her hood a little lower as she watched in disbelief, not entirely sure what she was looking at. The emotions she was picking out of their hymns were a dissonant cacophony. Some were happy, others annoyed, others confused, others certain, a few scared, but there was a definite undercurrent of anger… and concern? And awe.

There was definite awe from every one of them.

It was easy to see why.

“You’re seeing what I’m seeing too, right?” Han spoke under his breath.

Damon was up the hill, near a grove… or what was left of one. He was currently walking down said hill carrying two trees, one on each shoulder. Sybil felt her eyes widen until they could not broaden any further. The tree trunks were devoid of branches and foliage, but she was sure her spine would snap if she had to carry just one!

Yet to Damon it did not look like it was anything more than a heavy exertion. The man traversed his way towards the village, dropping the two trunks. It was hard to understand what he was saying from this distance, but the hymns of those he spoke to reacted with understanding and compliance to instructions. So it was easy to figure out from the context. Groans were heard all over, and those that had been resting picked up cutting tools to work on the trunks.

It was at this point that Damon had spotted them. A grin spread across his square-jawed face. He hastened to meet them half-way to the village. His chest was slick with sweat, and he only looked slightly winded. Sybil detected a twinge of concern from Han, and she could certainly understand it seeing the ax hanging from Damon’s hip.

The lack of a hymn was just as unnerving as the first day. Their instincts kept telling them to prepare for a fight, even as Damon’s face was beaming with a smile.

“Hey, good to see you guys are back.”

“What’s going on?” Han asked.

“Making traps for the village.” Damon looked ecstatic about it. “The knight attacked me, so I incapacitated him. I figured helping the village be able to defend themselves was the best option since the knight’s not going anywhere anytime soon.”

“WHAT!?”

“Don’t worry, no one’s dead. I just beat the shit out of him and the robot, erm, familiar.”

“How?” Han stepped forward, giving Damon a more serious look. The stare of a healer trying to find wounds. Sybil knew that gaze well, even when tired to the bone, Han wouldn’t relent in such things.

“Oh, I defeated the thing using the power of friendship.” Damon let out a chuckle at the unamused gaze they shot at him. “‘Friendship’ is what I called the big fucking stick I used to beat the familiar until it stopped moving.”

Han and Sybil shared a glance. Neither needed to feel the other’s hymn to know they were both imagining the tree-trunks Damon had been carrying only minutes prior. If he’d wielded something like that to hit the familiar, reinforced or not, it was going to break.

“Are you alright?” Sybil inquired, pushing past the surprise.

“Yeah, just a bit bruised all over, but nothing too bad.” He responded, almost sheepishly. “Anyway, you two look like shit. Go get rested and all that. Oh, I’ll have to talk to you guys over what to do with the knight.”

“He’s alive?”

“I only broke his legs during the fight.”

Sybil shuddered, her grafts itched at the thought. For once she was thankful Damon couldn’t hear hymns or he might consider what she was currently feeling to be something rather rude.

“His daughter’s busting her back helping with the holes thing. I think she’s trying to show repentance, but I think you two will have questions to ask them and all that. So go rest up. I’ve got some more wood to chop.”

Again, Sybil and Han shared a look. They lowered their hymns to barely a whisper. She pushed guilt, Han reciprocated with acknowledgment and similar guilt. Slowly, they shared a nod as they reached the same conclusion.

“We’d like to talk to you as well.” She declared, shifting slightly in discomfort. “We may not have been entirely honest with you.”

[014] [Boots]

“So you’re telling me you knew about the knight going around killing people?”

Damon’s fingers drummed against the table in annoyance, a thunderous galloping noise, his face a deep scowl. The other two users sat opposite to him, looking uncomfortable. Even Sybil appeared just about ready to run, and all he could see of her expression were her eyes, everything else hidden behind her cowl.

“No. We only had suspicions.” Han quickly replied. “The guild picked up on an anomaly. The proportion of users that died here was higher than that of users going to other nearby villages despite the whole area having the same danger rating. We were given orders to investigate since we already intended to stick around in wait for the monster lord.”

“We couldn’t know if it was because of some particular monster having emerged, but we suspected the knight might have had a hand in things since the village was terrified. We couldn’t make a claim based only on guesses, however.”

Damon let out a sigh, rubbing at his temples. “Yeah, well, the village knew, and are more than happy to share their grievances over it. So you can ask away and gather all the evidence you could need.” With a sharp breath, his hands lay flat against the table. A part of him understood there didn’t appear to be a police force, but this felt ridiculous all the same. Where was the oversight from whatever asshole ruled this chunk of land? No, going over that would only give him more headaches. “What I want is to get back home, so checking the gaper cave is my current priority once you’re up for making the trip. How did the hunt go, anyway?”

Sybil straightened out in her chair, green eyes glimmering from under her hood with enthusiasm. “It was a very hard fight.” She picked something from her satchel, placing a shiny rock on the table. It was perfectly circular, made of some sort of metal, and filled with cracks. The cracks fizzled and sparked, pulsing with a light of its own. “A very worthy foe.”

“So that’s a graft core.”

“Electric graft core, and of good quality too!” Sybil spoke excitedly. “Do you see the intensity of the light? It means that the monster lord was killed practically at the peak of its power!”

“This dander-brain intentionally stalled the fight so she could get it to die when it was at its strongest.” Han groaned, leaning onto the table with an exasperated expression. “It attracted so many teethers, too. In the end, I wasn’t sure if the one needing more healing was her or me.”

“You should come next time!” Sybil proclaimed. “With your strength, you would’ve been able to wipe out the smaller monsters without a problem.”

Damon stared at her, blinked, remembering the ugly rat things and their very sharp teeth. He kept his smile polite. “I’ll think about it.”

“Ok. I’ll go clean up and sleep.”

“Wait.” Damon stopped her before she stood up. “Knight’s in the washroom, and I think we should talk about… well, him, before you go.”

“About what?”

“What do we do with him?”

Han nodded. “It is a good thing not to rush judgment. We’ll ask around, gather some proof and recordings. We should also visit the cave to confirm there’s no further proof to be found there, and also confirm the items they might have picked up from the merchant.”

“That’s good.” Damon nodded.

“But if things are as you described them, then chances are we will execute him and his daughter.” Han continued without missing a beat.

“That’s it? Just… kill them?”

“They’ve killed users… or at least the knight is. The daughter might not have had the intent.” Han replied, stroking his beard and frowning. “The complication would be ensuring the village remains safe. We’ll probably have to stick around and wait until a squire to be turned into a knight and sent over.”

“That’s… that’s it? Just like that?”

“It is how things work this far away. Knights are obligated to carry out the law, and in their absence, users are to take the mantle.” He shook his head. “We’ll do everything properly and send the evidence to the guild as well. They’ve been stringent on this kind of issue for a while now, but if the knight killed users for profit, it’s a pretty direct ruling.” Sybil agreed, nodding as she glanced at Damon. “This troubles you?”

“Kind of?” He scratched his cheek. “I know I joined the army and all, but murder in cold blood is a bit…” A grimace followed. “One of those things that you always think someone else would have to deal with. Preferably someone smarter.”

“Army?” The two shared a look of concern. “You… are a soldier?”

“I’d signed up, yeah, but I got kidnapped a little after basic, so I think I’m technically not a soldier?” Damon shook his head. “Look, I’ll lend a hand where I can, but if this were up to me, I’d put the guy to do hard labor. The village’s going to need someone able to actually finish the traps, and I don’t think any of us have plans to stay here indefinitely.”

At his words, they shared a glance with each other.

“Wait.” Damon frowned. “I’m guessing ‘soldier’ is a word with certain implications? Some other special role I’m not aware of?”

“It’s the name of the warriors that waged wars before the Gods imposed the edicts of peace.” Han answered. “It is not a role.”

“Oh, yeah, that’d be about right. Where I come from, we still have wars going about.”

“But…” Sybil frowned a little. “Why would you become a soldier if you do not find murder appealing? Is your kingdom under attack?”

“I joined mostly because of money problems.” Damon shrugged, avoiding answering the second question entirely. “Made one too many bad choices. But I’d joined up as part of the military police, so it’s a role that sees a lot less combat. At least depending on where you’re deployed.” He waved his hand, trying to dismiss the subject. “By any chance, would there be a way to use the edicts to force the knight into the whole hard labor thing? It’s tricky enough to get the villagers to help.”

“All edicts restrict action, not force action. And what do you mean about the villager’s help?”

“Been thinking of how to convince the villagers to defend themselves.”

“That goes against the edicts.” Sybil declared.

“Depends on how you go about it, the traps are one way to go about things, but I’ve been thinking about a few others.” Damon muttered. “They’ve been somewhat of a tough crowd to convince in digging holes in the first place.”

“Because the task of defending the village falls on users and knights. It is how things have always worked.”

“So, what? Villagers can’t help make traps?”

“Sybil might get a bit heated on this subject.” Han said. “But she does have a point. It is very rare for non-users to be pushed to help in the defense of where they live, only in the more extreme cases, such as some of the larger cities needing shield bearers to serve as walls of metal to slow down monster hordes.”

She nodded to her friend’s words. “There’s no need for such things where there’s such little threat.”

“Except it makes it less possible to hold users or knights accountable if they overstep.” Damon pointed out. “But the idea of putting up shields is a good one, I’ll admit. I think there might be some interesting options to consider.” His words were followed by a quick shake of his head. “You should go do whatever it is you do after killing lots of monsters and I’ll get back to helping with the trap making.”

“You’re… not tired?”

“Oh no, I’m beat!” He grinned as he stood up. “But I figure I’ve got at least another couple hours’ worth of work before I’m definitely completely wiped out. So I might as well go at it while there’s still sunlight to burn.”

Sybil and Han just sat there, watching him go in stunned silence.

“Maybe it’s a good thing he doesn’t want to hunt monsters. It could put us out of a job.”

“What do you mean, ‘not want to’? He said he’d think about it!” Sybil replied with indignation.

“Sure.” Han rolled his eyes.

***

Seeing the villagers needing rest so frequently felt off to Damon. Who’d consider an hour long break for every hour of work? At first he thought they might be just trying to laze about and do their minimum, but Linda had been quick to point out that the situation was the exact opposite. He was the one that was out of place.

The doubt of her words was gone by the end of the first day. The silver-eared sasins might have had hymns, but it was impossible to miss the slack-jawed stares they’d throw his way the longer he worked chopping and carrying around tree trunks. It was tiring work, but Damon preferred tiring himself out than staying still and letting his mind run circles on subjects he had no control over.

The most distracting thing to think of was the differences between himself and the locals. Sasins could reliably outrun him in a sprint, and the speed with which they could do manual labor was impressive. But the endurance was bad. Damon didn’t know any biology to find a reason why this was. Despite their clearly alien form, their basic shape was humanoid. Perhaps it came from how quickly they seemed to overheat from exertion? At least that was his suspicion, based on how more and more villagers had to focus on bringing buckets of water from the well to keep everyone hydrated.

Then again, biology had not been his strong suit.

His musings on the matter were put on pause when he realized his rest between trips was taking too long. The sun was well past the zenith, it felt like a good time to stop for the day. Damon headed on over to the smith, giving a once-over to the progress thus far and feeling quite happy about how things were turning out; they were roughly two thirds of the way through.

“Hey.” He called out to the older man as he worked on fixing the knight’s sword.

The short man shrieked and jumped, already half-way to the back door before he noticed it was Damon and stopped. “Oh, it’s you.” He glowered.

“Sorry, just passing by. I wanted to ask you for something.” He stepped into the smithy area. “A tool for you guys to potentially wield.”

“Tool?” The man frowned, putting down the glowing piece of metal. “What sort of tool would we want?”

“Something to protect yourselves.”

“If you want to deck the village in armor, you better have a lump of gold hidden in that house somewhere.”

“I was thinking about something cheaper.” Damon replied. “The concept is simple, a sturdy long stick capped off with a second curved stick.”

The smith put down the blade, snatching a piece of paper, tossing it at Damon. “Draw it.”

With a shrug, Damon made the two lines. A straight one connected to the curve of a very broad ‘U’ on its end. “That’s it.”

“That’s it?” The smith frowned. “This is a weapon. A really bad weapon at that.”

“It’s not meant to cause harm. The tips would be blunted.” Damon explained. “To put it differently, can you pin my hand on the table?”

“I’ve seen you carrying those trunks. The answer is a very solid no.”

“Imagine if twelve sasins were wielding this and trying to use them to pin an individual to the ground or a wall.” He extended his hand. “Or imagine them using it to obstruct a monster from getting closer. It couldn’t hurt or kill them, only block their path.”

The man’s eyes widened. “This feels similar to the shield idea.” He rubbed his chin. “Do you know of the shielders?”

“Only heard a bit about non-users having shields.”

“Non-users carrying shields. It’s a job in the big cities that can spare the metal. Non-users can be often put under the command of a knight and guided to make barriers to block the advance of monsters.” The voice came from the entrance. Damon turned to see Linda standing there, approaching with a raised brow. “I felt old Gaus being surprised and inspired. That doesn’t happen often.”

“Look.”

She took the piece of paper, nodding slightly. “Inspired by a fork?”

“It could be useful against teethers and people.” Gaus replied. “Like using shielders to pin a monster down.”

Tapping her chin in thought, she glanced at Damon. “Your second pair of boots are ready, by the way.” She made a motion towards her house.

“Oh, neat.”

“Get washed up and I’ll have them ready at my place.” Linda lifted the piece of paper, waving it. “Gaus will make four so you can show us how to wield them. Tomorrow.”

She eyed Damon one more time, a slight smile on her lips. “Remember, clean up.”

As she walked out, his gaze lingered on the sway of her hips. He couldn’t remember seeing Linda in such a good mood since meeting her. It had started off as hard determination to bull her way through into the house to cook, but she’d quickly become the one to get the village organized to take part in the whole hole digging and trap making.

The woman had been of great help.

Which had left him mostly unsure how to handle it other than stepping back and letting her help. There was something definitely endearing about that drive.

“Better hurry.” A slight chuckle at his side turned him to see the amused Gaus as he shook his head and returned to work on the sword.

It was clear Damon was missing something, and he suspected it had something to do with the hymns. Again. It was like everyone around him could read each other’s minds and he was not in on the joke.

Another thing to get used to until he found a way back home.

With a shrug, he returned to the house, confirmed the knight was still alive as usual, ignored his silent glares, dropped off some food, washed up to dry off all the sweat from a long day of work, and put on a lighter set of clean clothes while hanging the work-ones to dry off.

He walked up to Linda’s place, knocked twice, and stepped inside.

The work area was empty, tools littering the counter, and no boots to be found.

“I’m on the upper floor!” Linda called out. “Close the door behind you!”

The only other door there led to the living space, which was odd. Damon closed behind himself and followed up the creaking stairs to the second floor. He reached a small common area with a fireplace and a dining table.

His eyes were drawn instantly to the only other person in the room.

Linda stood next to the table, wearing a light brown shirt that reached all the way to her thighs and a set of shorts that didn’t make it to her knees. It was the body of a woman who’d worked hard for most of her life, she kept herself well, there was just enough plumpness to her figure to promise many places Damon could hold onto if he so wanted.

The thought was immediately pushed aside when he noticed she was looking at him very intently, her hand patting a bundle of cloth that rested on the table. “These are your boots.”

Though she said this, Damon didn’t step forward to claim them, feeling she had something more to say as she brushed the French braid over her shoulder. There was some odd amusement in her eyes as she nodded at him.

“So you really can’t hear hymns, huh?”

His back straightened a little more. Was this some sort of faux pas? “No, ma’am.”

“Alright, then.” She tapped the bundle on the table. “You can take these and walk out, if you want.” Her cheeks took a slightly darker green coloration as her hand dropped from the table and moved to pinch at the edge of her shirt. “Or you can accompany me to my room before you take them tomorrow morning.”

Damon hesitated. “You are aware I’m looking for a way back home.”

“I’m aware. I prefer it that way.” She nodded, not moving from where she stood, fingers dancing with the hem of the shirt.

“May I ask why?” He really didn’t want to, his throat was dry and his eyes kept moving to her calloused fingers as she teased the shirt slightly upwards. But a part of him felt like he’d miss something crucial if he didn’t.

“I had a mate. I enjoyed that while it lasted, but it’s not something I am looking for anymore.” Linda took a step forward, gazing into his eyes, inching the shirt slightly further up, revealing a hint of navel. “Does this bother you?”

He quickly shook his head. “No, I’m just not aware of the local customs.” He stepped closer. “I’d rather be sure of what’s expected before I step into anything.”

“Oh.” Her lips curled forward, stopping right in front of him as she began to raise the shirt and revealing a belly button. “What you should expect is one night, with a potential for repetition based on results.”

“No concerns we might be incompatible?” He crossed the remaining distance, looking down at her cheeky smirk and feeling himself growing hotter.

Her hand reached for his crotch, giving him a squeeze. Her eyes widened a little as her face took a darker green. “Why don’t we find out?”

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Just because you're in an alien world doesn't mean you can't relax and enjoy the views from time to time. Finding healthy ways to relax is very important!

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