DB Lazarus
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62. Further Inroads - II
🕑 Added 2025-04-06 02:00:03 +0000 UTCNormally, exiting the cave was a literal breath of fresh air. While the majority of the improved tolerability came from the notable drop in the Aether density, the cave, even with its size, had a stale quality, especially deeper in. Yet, when I exited, the air outside was also off. I couldn’t put my finger on it. It had a foul, acrid…taste? Could a smell have a taste? I had experienced my fair share of smog, and it had that unhealthy feel. However, it was also different. I even risked drawing a few large breaths to confirm. Clean…but not? Like tap water with the barest hint of impurities.
A miasma? A foul humor? Dark Age superstitions…and yet in this world, could I just dismiss any option out of hand?
Then a breeze swept it, and the scent—and whatever came with it—vanished. I took another sniff. Gone. I wanted to laugh at the incredulity of the situation. I had started going down a rabbit hole for what—a campfire?
“…you get?”
I shook off my contemplation. “Sorry, what was that?”
Dorian laughed. “I thought this would be easier for you since you hit the next tier, or were you just daydreaming?”
“It is, noticeably so, actually, and I was just thinking, not daydreaming.”
“Suuure. Though, it’s hard not to when you break through a new tier. What did you get? Anything good?”
I listed my skills and then added in a near whisper, “I also increased my Projection.”
He suddenly stopped pulling the cart. “By the Gods, don’t say that out loud here.” His eyes darted, and when it was clear no one else was around, he added, “Okay, that was probably fine. However, you need to be careful. I already told you that you should have a target on your back because of your other Potentials. If people find out that you have a class that will adjust them….” He shook his head.
“Okay, point taken. Is that common?”
“Not at your level.” Then his eyes lit up. “How much did it increase?”
“From one to two.”
“You are kidding.”
“Afraid not.”
“How is that…” He waved the rest away. “Maybe that will be okay to share. Never hurt to have people underestimate you.”
“Thanks, Dorian.” I made damn sure to add as much sarcasm as I could muster.
“Just to be clear, I am kidding. Don’t tell anyone your Potential…even if they suck.”
I scowled, but Dorian had already started pulling his cart forward, now at a pace that I had to work to keep up with.
I should’ve just said I was struggling…
***
As we approached the Crafting Quarter, I caught the barest whiff of the miasma. I pulled my cart closer to Dorian. “Dorian, do you smell that?”
“Huh?”
“There is something in the air.”
He just laughed. “Of course it is. We are at a tannery.”
“That is not what I meant. I—“
Further discussion ended when Auren Lædermakær called out as we approached. “Dorian, is it true?“
Dorian sported a huge grin. "It is, and they took my advice. You going to be ready? They should be coming soon.”
We followed the master craftsman with our carts as he headed into the center of the clusters. As soon as we entered the cluster’s inner quad, he yelled to his crew, “It’s true. Prep the vats.”
The center became a hive of activity. All this because of a burrower?
“Are you sure they prepared it properly?”
Dorian gave Auren an exasperated look. “I checked it this morning. It is practically kissing the crystals in that cave. It is saturated.” Dorian waved away his concerns before he could state them. “It doesn’t need more time. The distance is short, and you know how strong Ættir are. They will get it here before there is any degradation. The bigger question is: can you handle it?”
His eyes narrowed. “Boy, don’t you dare sass me. You know that we will have it done to perfection.”
“You sure? It may be a smaller one, but all the plates except the head and tail are intact.”
Auren’s eyes widened. Dorian smirked and then laughed and clapped the man on the shoulder. “I know you got this. Though seriously, it would help if you emphasized how much better this haul is with the plates fully saturated.”
“They don’t trust you?”
He waggled his hand. “Enough to follow my advice on the burrower, but you know how it goes. Hearing it from you will mean more.”
The master [Leatherworker] just gave him a knowing nod. “Of course, my friend. It is the least I can do for the warning of what’s to come.” He looked at me. “If you are interested in seeing how we process the plates, you can come by this afternoon. We will be working all day and night on this one.”
Was I? The offer seemed generous, but did I have time to take on new interest when I should be using my limited time to understand my new skills?
Dorian spoke up before I had a chance to respond. “He may have some other plans this evening.” I gave Dorian a questioning look, but he just ignored me. “Thanks for your help, Auren. If they haven’t left by the time I return to the mine, I will let the Ættir know they can bring it up.” He waved to me to follow. “Let’s head to the Quartermaster.”
We left the crafters to their work. Through the buildings, I made out people rushing back and forth. Their pace almost had a frenzy to it, undoubtedly the effect of the news about the burrower’s size and condition spreading. What exactly was living stone?
***
We stopped in front of the Quartermaster’s. Dorian put his large hand on the door.
He’s nervous, too nervous. He’s…He’s reticent to have me here.
The strength of the realization came as a shock. From my gut to deep in my bones, I knew it as truth, but how?
I had never excelled at reading people. I had gotten better in my many years of residency. Spend enough time with worried family, and unless you are actively not trying, it’s hard not to. However, picking up on the ever so subtle pause and the subsequent slight but sharp intake of air…that was new.
What is happening to me?
What a silly question. I was changing, gaining gifts and burdens. Why would I not have improved at reading body language? After all, empathy was core to my class—or, at least, should it be—and compared to detecting invisible spiders, picking up subtle shifts in body language was child’s play.
I put my hand on his wrist, stopping Dorian just before he opened the door. “Why don’t you go in on your own? There’s work to be done, and I can let the hærlið know about the burrower.”
He turned and stared me in the face. His expression flickered from surprise to relief to sheepishness. “You don’t have to worry. I am speaking with a Quartermaster. We’re not like the Ættir. You don’t have to prove your worth just to be spoken to.”
“That may be the case, but I don’t serve any purpose here. I also can’t help but think that I will be in the way.” Dorian frowned, but I continued, “I know you want to include me, but I think I can help out the team more by clearing out the terrorvoles.”
Without a doubt, the Quartermaster had done me a favor by setting me up with Dorian, but that also put me in her debt. The woman was a politician. She had ulterior motives, and she would come to collect. For now, better to keep away from her clutches. Plus, Dorian had his secrets. For whatever reason, he was top of mind in what had to be two of the most powerful people in the Oresian contingent. He had pull. My absence would only make it easier for him to use it.
However, if he wanted a way to assuage any guilt at letting me leave, I did have one thing I needed from here. “Though, while you are in there, could you pick up some bandages for me?”
He raised an eyebrow but said nothing. “For the company?”
“Yeah. At least those that will let me. They don’t have a grasp on hygiene’s importance in wound care. Now that I have taken care of the water issue, I can clean them.” His eyes narrowed, and I cursed myself at what I had let slip. “I know it is a bit of an ask. I would say I am good for it, but well…”
He grimaced. “Life debt,” but then he waved away my concern. “Not a problem. They are for the team. I will ensure they’re included in the company’s allotment if they aren’t already. I am sure I can convince the Quartermaster, especially after she hears what we are bringing in today.”
“Thanks, Dorian. Oh, since I am heading back a bit earlier, should I have the Ættir bring the burrower up now or wait a bit?”
“Auren is fast. They should be ready soon, but better to tack on another trip of terrovoles to be safe.”
“Sounds good.” I waved and left him to his task.
***
I found Eiræk and Rægnor not long after I returned to our section of the mine. I relayed the update on the timing for the burrower’s transport. Eiræk quickly left to discuss with the other heads of the group, expressing only limited annoyance that Dorian hadn’t gotten the information about the crystal.
Before I could go back to carting away terrorvoles, Rægnor pulled me aside. “I have another person you might be able to help, but before that, I must know why you trust that Oresian?”
I cocked my head and frowned. “That’s a strange question. He has been nothing but helpful.” Unlike some people, he offered to help me without anything in return.
“Yet he didn’t assist you when it was most needed.”
“What do you mean? He—oh, you are talking about the Volki.” I shook my head. “I seem to recall a time you watched me get beaten senseless and did nothing.”
“I acted when duty required.”
“And Dorian didn’t?”
“No.”
I had to force my jaw to unclench. This was not the time to throw away allies—if I could even call him that, but Rægnor didn’t even have the decency to look embarrassed at the obvious double standard. And his assertion had some not-so-subtle implications.
Dorian deserves better.
“I—Look don’t for a moment doubt my appreciation for your help, but you need to watch your step because I’m hearing something very close to impugning Dorian’s honor?”
He stiffened, though said nothing. Still, it was quite clear that my next words would matter.
“He wasn’t involved because I wanted it that way. I was specifically asked—by a person I couldn’t say no to—not to drag him into my ‘mess’—if that is what you call just existing in this place as a Human. Even being new, I can tell the peace here is fragile. Could it take a ratcheting up of tension between the Volki and Oresiani? I don’t know. But I do know that, if I asked, Dorian would have helped regardless of the consequences.“
This place was worse than before WWI. I had already done enough in bringing this powder keg closer to exploding by putting the hærlið into my debt.
“For someone so new, you are very aware of the intricacies here.”
What was he implying?
“Why don’t you stop dancing around your point? Is there a problem with me or Dorian? If it is me, I will accept that. I messed up when I got water again. However, if you are looking for me to throw Dorian under the—to tarnish his honor, look somewhere else. In fact, just stop. He has honor. You saw what he did yesterday to protect the company. I would expect better of you.”
Anger flashed across his face before he mastered his expression. “Remember that I prevailed on the hærlið last night.”
What’s wrong with me? Why am I attacking a possible friend?
I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself down. Instead of bringing relief, it fueled the burning coals resting in my chest. Yet, the surge was all I needed to realize what was happening. Aether toxicity. Again…
I worked to free myself of its taint. “Sorry. I let my anger get away from me. This Aether…If I don’t—” I shook my head. “I was too harsh. You have done a lot for me, and I appreciate it. I really do. But I also owe Dorian. I wouldn’t be alive today without him. I don’t understand the issue between Ættir and Oresiani, but I think you can find a partner to work with if you want.”
Rægnor let out a long sigh. “I tend to agree as well, but divisions exist amongst us regarding Humans and, in some cases, Oresiani. Ættir and Humans have a long and fraught history, and those who help them are not looked upon fondly. We know the Oresiani had a hand in the rise of the Human empire to the south. While you have acted with honor befitting of an Ættar, the same cannot be said about the young scion.” He raised a hand to stall my objection. “I will not deny that his most recent actions can only be interpreted in one way, however, why are we seeing these skills only now? He has worked with us for some time. Can you honestly tell me that he hasn’t been holding out in terms of skills and expertise?”
I couldn’t. He had a point. If I was in his position…I needed a moment to collect my thoughts. Dorian might not realize it, but he needed a team or, maybe, just to be part of something. This unlikely collaboration had so much potential—if they could get past the lack of trust.
“As a bit of an outsider, I think the feelings of distrust are mutual. However, I think you need to give him a chance in the same way that he needs to give you a chance. I get there’s bad blood, but he is a wealth of knowledge, which I am positive he will continue to share so long as you all reciprocate.”
“You think he is a man of his word?”
“Has he shown otherwise?”
“No, but he is kin to the Quartermaster.”
I shook my head. “A bit unfair, but I get it. I guess I’m not the only one watching my words around her.”
Rægnor snorted. “Have you met anyone of that level where you shouldn’t?”
“Point taken. I think you can trust Dorian. Thankfully, the Verndari didn’t dismiss his suggestion straight out of hand after I pushed Dorian to speak with him. A bridge has been extended. I think you can build off that if you want.”
“Agreed. I will relay my conversation to our hærlið.”
Good. At least a few Ættir realized how close we were to disaster.
“So are we done here? You mentioned someone might need my help. If not, I want to get a load to the [Harvesters]. I swear the Verndari watches me like a hawk. I can’t sit idle this long, and I want to be there when the burrower is dropped off.”
Rægnor frowned. “The Verndari should trust, but I doubt you will ever see that. Even if most here recognize that you do not hail from the local Human territory, many of my people may never accept you.” He turned to face the burrower. “Will it be as profitable as Dorian implied?”
“I don’t know, but the master [Leatherworker] practically started salivating when Dorian mentioned the burrower’s plates were saturated.”
Rægnor smiled. It was the first genuine one I had seen. It showed his age. He was young. Too young for the number of scars he sported.
“Our hærlið will be pleased to hear that. There is actually someone who needs your help. Wait here. And don’t worry, I can cover for you if needed.”
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