Born a Monster

241 Servant of the Axe – Improper Manners

Chapter Type: Character Development (Social)

The paper-wrapped roll of coins vanished into a sleeve. “A token of...” I said.

“Ssshh!” the bureaucrat said, “You have all the subtlety of an aurochs. Wait here.”

“I will...”

“Wait there SILENTLY.” He said, slipping away through the crowd.

Well, okay, fine. But I was going to console myself for his rude treatment with a crab puff, which I swallowed whole.

“Oh my, are you certain your face can take that kind of Gluttony?” a woman asked. She was in a fine silken robe, red, tailored to her plump form.

“My face has survived a fire blast from an as-yet unnamed Shadow Slayer.” I said. “A blow that could have left me scarred and disfigured, and already it is so healed that I do not require a bandage. I believe that fortune favors my healing enough that I can survive a crab puff.”

She looked at me in dawning horror. “You do not understand your own face.” And she made a point of sitting across the waiting room from me.

.....

Yeah, if nobody was going to explain exactly how face worked, then I was going to keep on not understanding it, too.

As we lingered in that oven of a room, several people’s heads began nodding. I took a look with Mystic Vision and was amazed.

Two rivers of spirits came through the open gateway, one set headed in, another headed out. They moved with a purpose, nimbly avoiding contact with the structure and especially with the inhabitants. It was... noisy, because spirits were apologizing as they passed and were passed in turn.

I was a class-holding Industrialist, and yet the sheer volume of moving spirits, maintaining order in the large form while engaging in chaos on the small, interpersonal interactions...

It was boggling, like a polite version of the bustle I’d seen in cities. Actual cities, not towns that pretended to be cities. While we were inactive, elementals, anima (animal spirits), prayer-wardens (faith spirits, or those of fundamental forces other than elementals) all rushed past on their very important errands.

“Sir, I am so sorry, but there is no appointment for you today or tomorrow. The absolute earliest that we can fit you into the admiral’s schedule is two days from now during his lunch. We trust you will not be offended by having only his divided attention?”

“Not in the least. I would be honored to share lunch with the admiral.”

“So sorry, I have explained poorly. You will want to eat before or after meeting with the admiral. He will be eating while you are talking. Many people would not accept such a meeting, and it is our shame to offer it to you. But it really, truly, is the best we can do; the admiral is so very busy.”

I brought my right fist to my chest, performed a bow that was maybe an inch or two too deep. “It is my honor and my joy to accept this appointment, if it is truly the soonest that can be arranged. Thank you, sincerely, for finding any time at all in the admiral’s busy schedule.”

“There is no point in you being here today or tomorrow.” The bureaucrat said, with the same offended tone as his kind had used in the past. “Return in two days, at least an hour before the sun is high in the sky.”

I bobbed my head. “I will do so. Thank you.”

He waved a hand dismissively. “A thousand thanks mean less than your absence. Just go.”

I stood up, flexed my neck. I’d have to look into why bowing hurt my neck so much.

People were staring at me.
What NOW?

Someone’s daughter laughed at me. “Funny lizard almost broke his neck.”

“Oh, I’m surprisingly flexible. Would you like to see something truly funny?”

“Yes, yes, yes!”

“Amiko, no!” her mother urged.

I turned away, and leaned my head backward, the back of my skull resting on my spine. I opened my mouth in mock surprise and gasped. “What is everyone doing on the ceiling?” I asked, my voice thready, strained by the position of my neck.

Amiko hid her mouth behind both sleeves, but her giggle reached me nonetheless. Her parents were not alone in looking at me in horror.

Tough; I was starting to care less and less about what Daurians in general thought of me. I brought my head back to normal, and turned to face her.

“I can do that, but you cannot.” I told her. “No trying that yourself, or you will make your parents very, very sad.

“I won’t.” she promised, then bowed lightly to me. “Thank you, kind sir, for making me laugh. It is more than I deserve, forcing my parents to be here.”

“Oh?” I asked, “what could such an innocent child possibly do?”

“I cough up blood, sometimes.” She said.

“Amiko, no!” her mother said.

“Let us not bother this foolish lizard, let him go about his day.”

“Please, reptilian sir, leave us to mourn in private, to see if something can indeed be done for our daughter.”

“My System says it’s hemoptysis.” She said.

“You must be very brave to face such a thing.” I said.

She nodded, and leaned closer to me, so I also approached, much to the chagrin of her parents.

“My System says that there is a very expensive medicine that can fix me. But the merchants are envious of us because my father actually mines his own ore to work into tools and weapons. We’re Farmer caste rather than just merchants.”

“That is very rare. Your father must know Jian Shui.”

Amiko bounced on her toes. Gods, she looked like a human version of Kismet!

“My father IS Jian Shui!” she said. “My name is Jian Amiko.”

“How do you know my name?” Jian Shui asked. “We have not met, we have done no business.”

“Jian Shui, I owe your uncle a kindness. Let me buy your daughter’s medicine.”

“No!” the mother shouted, snatching Amiko into her lap. “A kindness to Jian Shui has nothing to do with his uncle. The debts of honor will expand and doom us all!”

Doom us... ugh. This FACE thing again. Let me find the philosopher who invented the concept; I’d do some rude things to HIS face...

“Jian Shui, do you ever work for barter?”

“Work? What?”

I pulled my Flavian from my inventory. “I have two days. Can this sword be re-cast within that time?”

Jian Shui looked incredulous. “It will be easier to throw this sword away and forge an entirely new sword.”

“But THIS sword has earned a name.”

“What name could a sword such as that earn?” the wife asked.

“This sword is to become the Heart’s Defender.” I said.

Jian Shui looked at his wife and shrugged.

She looked horrified, and clutched Amiko to her chest. “How could she have known?” Tears began rolling down her face, and several people pretended they did not see.

“Don’t cry, mommy. Everything will work out. Grampa promised.”



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“Shui?” she asked, “Is there no other way?”

Shui inhaled deeply, looking at a spot between us that only he could see. “This will require much time and effort from you, and molten metal is extremely dangerous. You will need to obey all of my instructions. If we work long hours, and you sleep in the workshop, perhaps we can do in two days that which normally takes five.”

“I accept...”

“Only possibly.” He said. “I can promise nothing. And... I cannot do the blade into such an unfamiliar pattern. I can get you what the Pearl Coasters call a wakizashi, a short sword suited to your short form.”

“I accept your terms, teacher. For two days, I am your student in the art of making a named sword.”

“So sorry, Grampa says not until you provide payment. In full.”

“Amiko!” her mother said, “You cannot speak even to barbarian lizards in this manner.”

I waved a hand. “Amiko cannot be held responsible for the words of her grandfather. And he is correct. Both Jian Shui and I will be too tired to remember the medicine afterward; let us get the medicine now, and Amiko can start taking it today. Or tonight. I don’t know the medicine or the disease, so sorry.”

Amiko slid out of her mothers arms and plopped down onto the floor. “Let’s go. I think we left our shoes in these cubicles over here.”

“Amiko.” Her father rebuked, “Proper ladies do not run inside.”

“So sorry, everyone who saw that. The mistake is mine, and not that of my mother and father, who diligently teach me proper behavior.”

Seeing an entire room of people waving dismissively... it was creepier than I could put into words.

I moved to stand between the spirit and Amiko. “You are not an ancestor spirit, and therefore not her grandfather.”

“Jian Amiko is dearer to me than many grandchildren to their actual grandparents.” The hound-faced spirit replied. “What does it matter to you?”

“So sorry, I suppose it doesn’t. We have medicine to buy.”

No, I didn’t know what this word meant. I had to have the doctor explain it to me, twice. I include it here for your understanding, not to conceal my own lack of understanding.