Part 1; Arrested Development
You think you’re prepared... you always think that.
Or rather, at least I did.
I always thought that I was prepared. I read books and I read magazines. I spent a lot of time with tourist and foreigners. I immersed myself with everything I could of the world outside my little kingdom. My brilliant gilded cage on the sea. I doubt I would have left, not like this, not with so many people upset about it. I’d maybe not refused escort and I’d probably let common sense dictate my actions rather than anger and pride.
But it was my duty now, I was the Morgen. Well, at least until I find what I am searching for and I can pass this burden back to my sister where it belongs.
These are the thoughts that ran through my mind as I tried to recall my training. How did I end up there in that dank and lifeless prison? Well, as I dodge brutes and take down crazed psychopaths, it’s all I can think about, so I guess I’ll start at the beginning.
My journey began on the Eve of Serenias. The red lava fish were jumping up and out of the water, their brilliant scales illuminating in the light. The young pups played in the water, vigorously trying to catch them. I remember those days, under the watchful eye of my mother. I remember letting out a deep sigh as i boarded the barge. Hooded and cloaked I resented having to leave this way, but news of my sisters illness and my ascension to her position would be a political scandal to the likes of which the kingdom has never seen.
‘Be careful, be smart, be yourself.” She said to me, holding my hand as hard as she could. Celeste was power incarnate. The best of us, to see her down and defeated by some unknown malediction, well, it was hard for me to keep my composure. Man or woman, there was no shame in the tears I wept for my sister. She struggled to stay awake and even in that state I could feel her strength. The poison would have killed a lesser woman. She’s every bit the prodigy they say she is. I’m ashamed of how jealous I’d been of her all my life.
As I sat on the barge leaving with the foreigners, heading to the mainlands, seeing the Kingdom from afar for the first time on my own, I wonder; will this be the last time. My mother always said to me, ‘La fortune sourit aux audacieux,’. Now more than ever I wonder if she is right.
Does fortune truly favor the brave or does fortune favor the fortunate?
I pondered it as I thought back to why I was leaving. That man, it all started with him. My sister fell in love with a dashing and handsome man just a half a year before her ascension. Clayton Morris, a charming half-breed from Carthmoore. Part wombat, part kangaroo, soft and exquisite mint green fur to go with his exotic features. I knew he was different, something we’d never seen before. How right we were. I’ve never seen such beautiful person prove to be such a despicable waste of life. His attraction to my sister was a lie. His charm and his beauty a disguise. In truth, I find, he was an assassin. He meant to lie in wait, bed with my sister, steal her heart, her life and the treasure of my people; Curtana the Sword of the Seas. I held it in my hand, furious to have fallen for his lies. Clay was actually an agent for some shadowy organization trying to steal Curtana; he called it ‘Foo-in-kī-ken...’ or whatever.
It was after her joining, after she received Curtana, that he struck. Having gone through the indescribable experience of the joining myself I know how weak she must have been. He made love to her, smiled at her and like a coward he poisoned her drink. He’d have finished her had ‘fortune’ not intervened. My sister never locked her door and I came right in.
I saw everything; it was all I could do to stop him from leaving with Curtana. But what alarms me, what alarmed us all was not his knowledge of our customs, of the sword, but how he escaped the grasp of our best warriors. Looking into the eyes of that cur, he grinned at me and blew a kiss. Pulling a short white sword nearly identical to Curtana, he then blew us all back as the winds carried him up and away from the city.
This threatening revelation led me to my present situation. Leaving my home, searching for a cure for a foreign poison and an answer to a burning question. ‘What don’t we know about this sword...’ I stared then as I stare now down at the ivory weapon in my hand. I’d been day dreaming for hours by then and it was time to step foot on the mainland.
The first part of my journey was one part dangerous and two parts moral and physical indignity. I was to go to Troyes and meet up with a man named Adam Duchant. Duchant was a turd, a real turd... but he dealt in books. Ancient books of lands and stories long forgotten. I remember wondering as I first met him, was the smell coming from the pier or this indignant letch that I’d the misfortune of dealing with. His speech was repugnant, his smell was repulsive. He was a big fat marmot with a long cigarette.
‘Bonjour Madame...’ he greeted. Words slithering out of his rancid trap. He moved closer than I’d have liked him to be, but I stood my ground and met his gaze. It’s hard to be tough when you look like I do and yes I am aware of how I appear. But I am no dandy, I assure you. My facial expression can read like a sign. As my cold stare met his I wasn’t sure what offended me more, his invasion of my space or how easily I was mistaken for a female. I was no longer in Ahes however and to the outside world I’ve found that I look more to be a woman than many women do.
I’m sure it is compliment. But not just then.
“Have you what I asked, good sir?” I remember trying hard to hide my revulsion.
“No... madame, I do not. But I know who does.” He said again in his curious manner. I stood back and slapped his hand as he reached to touch me.
“That was not what you were paid for... you were contacted about a book, not information about its whereabouts.” I was visibly angry, maybe letting too much desperation show. He laughed at me and put his hands in his pockets.
“So there is a man behind that feminine facade of yours.” he said licking his lips like he’d just bitten into a peach. I couldn’t hold myself any longer, he was wasting my time. With grace and speed I snatched him up, with a quick twist of my body he was up and into the wall, my elbow in his chest, my hand on his throat and my knee pressing against his crotch.
“Listen, you filthy little pervert; if I don’t get the information I paid you for I will surely bring joy to masses of women and men alike by squeezing what life is left in your dried and fickle husk of a body.” I felt him shudder, and this close I could read him easily. He was reasonably surprised and satisfyingly terrified.
He replied, “Sorry, the book in question was stolen. The warden at Bourlémont Prison has the book and he will not just give it to you. His name is Jean Lesage and he is as cruel as he is cunning.”
“Then how am I to get the book...” I snarled as best I could, but I have to admit even I don’t
feel very threatening when I do that. But pressing harder into his balls with my knee did the trick.
“You must get arrested and use your talents and... assets to get the book. This I tell you
as I told the other Ahes Otter who commissioned this job.” I groaned and let him go. “How you get arrested is your business,” he continued, brushing himself off, “but you could pay me in the manner I requested of your kin. Even here I’m sure such debauchery in public will certainly get the desired result and I can watch that beautiful backside of yours inside as you complete your mission.” His voice was again slithery and now he was visibly rubbing himself. He made no attempt to hide his arousal.
I had a better idea. I didn’t need his help inside and I sure as hell didn’t want it. Yeah, public debauchery would get me arrested really easily, but… assault would too. It didn’t help that I wanted to pop his head open like a rock oyster.
Well that’s how I arrived here in this prison, fighting off these murderers and thieves. I was placed in general population because of my charming personality when I was arrested. I needed them angry at me. Everyone knew that I was a male Ahes otter and my treatment was a political matter. If I’d have stayed quiet I’d at best been in a day and in a low security area. But mouthing off and fighting my arresting officers ensured I’d be there through the week to teach me a lesson.
The hard thing to believe is that I always forget how I appear to others. Myself in general population is like throwing a baedle fly in a wolf spiders nest. I wasn’t there for forty minutes before being assaulted. I’d thought my training would prepare me for anything, but not being assaulted by most every inmate. I was making a go of it though, fighting and moving as gracefully as a dolphin.
I think I took down maybe ten or twelve before the guard arrived. I moved to him and was happy for the help, but sadly no help was to be had. It was pain like I had never felt... volts of energy through my body as he tazed me to the ground. As my vision hazed I saw one of the inmates slip him something and he smiled.
“Your ass is ours now, new booty. All that fancy flippy shit ain’t gonna do shit with that many volts going through you.” The jackal growled, punching me in the face. I wanted to cry I hurt so bad. As I fell to the ground I could sense the three ringleaders approaching. Mercilessly they began kicking and stomping me for good measure. I guess I should feel flattered they felt I needed to be softened up more. I could barely stand as they gathered around me, pushing me against the wall. They were from all over, foreigners from all corners of the globe. The huddle masses stood behind their leaders shouting out ‘Next!” and “I’m after him!”
It wasn’t looking good for me.
“You’ve got a very pretty mouth, boy. Why don’t you smile and give me some chon chon!” The blond jackal said, pressing his hand against my face. I struggled to bite him, to fight, but it was hard to move. Maybe I’d been overzealous, maybe I’d been too prideful and sure of myself. I wanted to think that, but the only thing I could think of was how I was going to get out of this mess now.