Ryn of Avonside

I sat down close next to Grace in the wagon, almost molding myself to her side like I was made of clay. As I settled in, she glanced down at me with a look that had her soft eyes flaring wide. There was a depth to the shared eye contact between us, long and slow. Her arm was moving, coming to rest protectively about my shoulders before she glanced around the interior of the wagon.

The two obrec were in the process of sharing a glance of their own before they obviously decided to ignore the romantic overtones between myself and Grace. We had only just finished coming close to… well, coming while we made the vine ladder, and I could almost feel the energy crackling between us now.

I was also beginning to feel the effects of all the energy I'd channelled earlier, on top of the the exhaustion from the climb. It all had my body feeling floppy and weak, like damp cardboard, and I began to slump into Grace's arms with the gentle rocking of the cart as encouragement.

"You okay, Ryn?" Grace asked with concern, tilting my head up to get a better look at me.

"Tired," I breathed. “I probably should’ve told you, but the constant recharging made my nerves a little frayed.”

"Rest then," she murmured, picking me up and settling me into her lap. "I'll wake you when something happens."

"I like strong, protective Grace," I told her, enjoying the feel of her arms around me, keeping me safe.

Grace didn't get a chance to reply, because Otho, the obrec man finally spoke, voicing a question that had probably been bouncing around in his head as he watched us. "Is your… friend alright?"

"My uh, lover, yeah. She's alright, just tired," Grace told them, her anve accented but passable.

I wasn’t thinking about her accent though, I was thinking about the wording she used. The word lover in anve was a little more complicated, and I wasn’t sure she realised that. It represented a commitment that was beyond what the english version might mean. She’d essentially just called me her girlfriend, or partner but in a way that implied it in the long term, like an informal declaration that she hoped to one day marry me.

This meant that my heart was full and thrumming with nervous excitement as the conversation continued around me. The idea, false as it was, that Grace would want to marry me, was so… so… much. I tried to pretend I was dozing off and not paying attention… why? I don’t know, I wasn’t exactly thinking rationally, that was for sure.

"I told you," the woman called Mer hissed, and through drooping eyelids I saw her elbow Otho. To Grace, she sheepishly explained, "We were not sure if you were together as lovers or not. We know that humans are different with how their love works, and we do not often meet members of your species…"

"Yeah," Grace nodded awkwardly. "She's, um… mine, I guess."

Hers.

"Ah, you are long lovers then?" Mer asked curiously.

“I’m not sure what that means…” Grace said softly, and I felt her shift as though she were looking down at me. “We haven’t been together long… I… I’m sorry can we change the subject?”

“Humans don’t have the long love like we do Mer,” Otho said, clearly realising his sister had gone too far with her questions.

“What do you mean?” Grace asked, sounding a little offended. Crap, I was so tired, but it sounded like I might have to intervene.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I did not mean to offend you,” he said quickly. “Our species… when we find our lifelong lover, our partner until death, our fur patterning will change to match each other, becoming a combination of that which we inherited from our parents. Once this bond is made, it cannot be unmade. There is no one else that will ever satisfy either of the pair.”

“Wait, really?” Grace asked, placated and now sounding interested. “How does that even happen?”

This time it was Mer who answered, “We are not sure. Ancestral tales from our origin world do not speak of the long love, and in the time since then, it has been studied and found to be magical in nature, although none have figured out how, or by what mechanism.”

“That’s pretty wild,” Grace replied, and I found myself agreeing.

It was also a little scary, considering the fact that it meant if you bonded with someone, there was no getting over them if circumstances stopped you from being together. Oh, and that mention of an origin world — they weren’t from the ring, same as us humans.

Any further conversation on the topic was interrupted by the lights going out. Or at least, that’s what my sleepy mind thought for a moment as the red light coming through my closed eyelids turned black.

“Oh, we’re in the tunnel now,” Otho commented. “Not long til Millowhall is in sight.”

I opened my eyes for a moment and peered curiously out of the front of the caravan. I couldn’t see much, it was dark save for what looked to be some form of low level magical lighting. The walls were rough hewn and almost entirely solid rock. Here and there were aged iron support beams, holding up the roof where it had weakened in the past.

Seeing that there wasn’t much else to look at in the tunnel, I closed my eyes again and snuggled back into Grace’s embrace. I couldn’t get over how my heart soared to be in her arms. This was really what I’d been missing all this time? I mean, I’d heard people talk about love, the music industry practically didn’t shut up about it, but… living it, I finally understood. I belonged here in a way that I didn’t even in my grove.

Leaning down, her lips brushing at my ear, Grace whispered, “You’re being really cute right now.”

Having her whisper in my ear had all sorts of effects that I don’t think she’d intended. A shiver ran up my spine even as goosebumps rushed down my skin. 

Oh gosh, I was still buzzing from earlier. Tonight couldn’t come soon enough. If she was still interested that is, otherwise I might find myself doing some exploration in the bath by myself. Being tired and horny was the strangest thing, I swear. Like, shit, I was still new to the very concept of horniness, and yet now I was fighting to be normal and not a horny all the time. Which, come to think of it, I was definitely failing to achieve. I was being overly horny. There, okay, I admitted it…

At some point I dozed off, the gentle rocking of the cart and its suspension as my lullaby. I wasn’t sure how long I was out, but the light hitting my eyelids was what woke me. That, or Grace carefully poking my cheek until I responded.

“We’re out the other side of the tunnel,” she told me gently, her voice sounding just as tired as I still felt.

Still, the nap had given me at least a little of my energy back, and I leaned back to smile at her. Her attention was pointed forward out the wagon’s open front, however. I followed her gaze, and I gasped at the sight.

We were in another chasm, almost identical to the one we’d left, with one important difference. A city sprawled up both sides of the massive ravine, carved out of the very stone of the mountains. Where the obrec hadn’t carved their buildings out of the rock, they had used carefully fitted blocks of the same stone. Great bridges arched across the hundreds of feet between the chasm walls, some large enough that they sported small buildings of their own.

Even from this distance I could see that this was a bustling, lively city — carts and people moving across the lower bridges like ants. The tunnel had disgorged us onto a wide road and it was pretty full too, as people moved in towards the huge gates of the city. The place was massive.

Then my eyes descended, and I realised with surprise that the floor of this ravine was actually visible just a few hundred metres below the last buildings of the city. Every inch of soil on the valley floor was covered in a thick, tangled forest. Even from up here, I could see that the diversity of species within the forest was staggering. It made me want to rush down there and begin cataloguing all the different planets I could find. If we had time, I’d love to go down and see it. The only area of the forest that wasn’t drowning in thick vegetation was the turbulent river that twisted its way down the center of the high-walled valley.

Goodness, but the scene was beautiful, inspiring in a way that had me wishing for a moment that I was a member of the species that had built this.

“This is unbelievable,” Grace breathed, and although she’d spoken in english, the two obrec with us nodded agreement, proud smiles lighting their expressions.

“It’s something ain’t it?” Mer said, her own eyes betraying that she was not immune to the grandeur before us.

“It’s wonderful,” I smiled, leaning out a bit to gawk like a tourist. “Are all obrec cities like this?”

“Some come close, but Millowhall is something special,” Otho told us. “It might not be the capital of any one clan, but it’s the site of our arrival on this world. The very first group of obrec to be dumped on this world founded Millowhall, and it’s been a center of ingenuity and learning ever since.”

Huh. I’d just assumed this was the capital of Clan Mossbed, since it was in their lands… gosh, if this wasn’t then, what was their capital actually like?

The gate into the city was fast approaching now, the looming steel reinforced stone cutting off the dim afternoon light as we trundled under the first portcullis. They seemed to have a multi-layered defence here, which had me slightly amused. What kind of nutjob would try and attack this place? Where the hell would you put your army? You’d never be able to bring enough soldiers to bear on the place to do more than get your people killed.

The wagon train came to a stop between the walls, and guards in armour that was much the same as our companions approached. One called out in a language we didn’t understand as he neared the rear of our wagon.

Mer called back in the same language, and with a glance at us, added. “Got some humans here who don’t know our tongue. Better use Anve.”

The guard grunted in annoyance, while looking over the wagons. “Stonechasers?”

“Aye,” Mer replied, hopping out to greet them. “That’d be us.”

“What’re you transporting?” he asked gruffly, before his eyes fell on Grace and I. “And who the hell are they?”

“Friends, good people,” Mer said, her voice suddenly menacing, and her posture shifting subtly to give herself better balance — hand falling on the pommel of her spiked mace.

Fu-udge, what was happening? Why was she suddenly so aggro? Why was the guard so grumpy?

“Yeah? They don’t look like no normal human,” the guard rumbled, glaring at us suspiciously. “Anve mages more like, your clan willing to foot the bill when they go feral?”

“They won’t,” Mer said, her voice taking on a venom that would have made a brown snake envious. “Like I said, they’re good. Stonechaser vouches for them.”

“As you wish,” the guard shrugged, still giving us both the side eye. “It’s your head if they ain’t good.”

“I’m aware,” she replied sarcastically. “You going to inspect our cargo now so we can go in, or just continue being a pain in my ass?”

He rolled his eyes. “Stonechasers.” With that tone, the clan name sounded almost like a slur.

He hit the ground before I even saw the large woman move, her gauntleted fist ringing the obrec guard’s helmet like a bell. One of her large hooves came down on his chest next, and she leaned down, a feral smile just visible past her own helmet.

“You done?” she asked fiercely.

Grace and I shared an alarmed look, and my eyes quickly sought out the other guards… who appeared to be, uh… laughing? At their comrade? What the fuck? Was this normal? Did obrec regularly just… wail on each other like that?

“Yeah, you’re free to go through,” the downed man grumbled, which seemed to satisfy our new very scary friend. “No need to inspect your goods this time, I think.”

“Good,” was all Mer said, removing her hoof from his chest and hauling herself up into the cart. To the two of us, she smiled amicably, her tone wry as she said, “Welcome to Millowhall, and of course, to obrec culture, I can tell you haven’t seen how we operate before.”