Second Skin: Wayward: A litRPG Adventure (Second Skin Book 7)

by M Damon Baker

  As luck would have it, Agna located yet another small cavern after only a short search, although this one lacked the lining of soft furs along its rocky floor. Sealing us in behind a double layer of snares, I delayed as long as I could by laying out my bedroll and making all the other typical preparations. My companions saw right through the tactic, yet mercifully allowed me to string things out just a little bit longer. When even I couldn’t put it off any longer, I shed one last deep breath as I sat down and simply let the truth flow out of me.

  Just as I’d promised, I held back nothing. That required me to start at the very beginning: Dreya’s arrival in this world as one of the Deathless, and her creation in the Great Barrier. After briefly retelling the story of her rise to power and eventual ascension, it was at least a little bit easier for them to understand how I was the daughter of both Dreya and Insleí. Then came the more difficult part—explaining myself.

  It wasn’t easy to admit just how bitter and stupid I’d been; my words came out in halting spurts as I detailed the unwarranted hatred I’d harbored for so many years. Yet once I’d done so, it became much easier for me to disclose all the rest. My situation was still rather difficult to describe, however. From half-elf to half-Deathless and half-Sintári, I was literally only a fraction of everything Dreya was. Yet even as strange as it all seemed, I didn’t hold back anything from them and only stopped talking when I could think of nothing more to say.

  ‘I don’t have quite so much to tell you in return, Ashíel,’ Scar’s voice entered my mind as Kyrah and Agna sat in silent contemplation of all that I’d confessed to them. ‘You already know that I’m your Sintári familiar and that I am no mere wolf as you first suspected. Your people called us Bone Worgs, and we were honored to serve them, just as I am honored to have been called to you.’

  But what are you really, Scar? I laid my hand on his broad shoulder as I sent my thoughts to him. There’s clearly far more to you than just your physical form.

  ‘What are any of us beyond this? What are you, Ashíel?’ His cryptic response came back to me.

  You’re pretty fucking insightful for a… Bone Worg, I couldn’t help but smile as I scratched behind his ears.

  ‘And you have quite the way with words, Sintári.’ A wry smile turned up the corners of his mouth.

  Sarcastic bastard.

  “There is much to consider in what you’ve told us,” Kyrah’s comment drew my attention away from Scar’s grin. “And I’m sure that I’ll have many questions for you, but for now, I’m most interested in your mother’s empire.”

  That was kinda odd.

  “You say that people of all sorts live together peacefully there?” Her doubt was quite obvious. “Forgive me, but the notion of orcs coexisting with humans and elves is almost unbelievable.”

  I didn’t miss the subtle inflection Kyrah imparted to ‘almost;’ she might as well have left the word unsaid.

  “And this thing about dwarves and halflings,” Kyrah rolled her eyes, abandoning any attempt to hide her skepticism. “Those are merely creatures of fantasy. Dwarves are only a myth, and halflings are simply an old wives’ tale based on archaic notions about half-elves like yourself.”

  With the short amount of time I’d been able to spend in any settlements, I hadn’t thought much about the fact that I’d not seen any dwarves or halflings so far. Kyrah’s pointed comment made me realize that there was something more to that, but Agna jumped in before I could follow up.

  “You are so wise to see right through her,” the orc’s words fairly dripped with a level of sarcasm that I found myself admiring greatly. “Please don’t hold back on your apparently boundless knowledge of the world.”

  “I meant no insult to you, Agna,” Kyrah clearly mistook her meaning. “It’s just… well, these things simply aren’t possible.”

  “I, for one, am smart enough not to pretend to know all that is possible,” Agna replied. “But having seen them with my own eyes, I do know that dwarves and halflings are real. As for the rest, Ashíel’s word is good enough for me.”

  “Really? You’ve seen them? What were you drinking at the time?” The derision in Kyrah’s words matched Agna’s sarcasm.

  “If I remember correctly, Kyrah, this is your first trip outside Nér-vrogan territory?” Agna inquired, although she already knew that to be the truth.

  “Yes,” Kyrah fairly hissed in response.

  “So, you’ve never set foot in the Free Lands?”

  “You have?” Kyrah replied.

  “I’ve… visited them on a few occasions.”

  I interpreted that to mean ‘raided.’

  “When we finally reach those kingdoms, you’ll be surprised to find a fairly large number of your supposed myths and old wives’ tales walking the streets there,” Agna made her own disclosure to us. “From what I understand, both the dwarven and halfling people fled the Nér-vrogan lands long ago and have been making their homes in those realms for many centuries now.”

  I guess that explained their absence so far. The dwarven race had a history rife with seclusion, and I could see how they might’ve withdrawn in the face of Nér-vrogan oppression. In contrast, the halfling people’s strong affinity with the mystical arts would have made them a prime target for the overlords—a quick retreat was probably the only thing that had saved them from extinction.

  “What about orcs, Agna?” I couldn’t help asking her. “I’m not leaving you behind, but will you be welcomed there as well?”

  “My presence may prove to be something of an issue for you,” she reluctantly admitted. “It might be best for me to hide while you tend to your business there.”

  I had no idea what ‘my business’ in those lands was, let alone how long it would take. Beyond that, I wasn’t going to simply abandon Agna at the first sign of trouble; we’d just have to find some way to make it work for us.

  “Yeah, that’s not gonna happen,” I waved off her suggestion. “We’re staying together, no matter what.”

  “Tell me about the orcs you knew back home,” Agna rapidly switched gears on me. “How did they first come to live among you?”

  “Ironically, very much the same way you became my friend,” I recalled the ancient story. “After Dreya defeated the Black Hand tribe, Thola led their remnant back to her, seeking peace.”

  Agna’s eyes glazed over for a moment, and she seemed to look off into the distance, even though there was no place for her gaze to wander within the confines of the tiny cavern. I thought she was only trying to get more comfortable when she began to strip off her armor, but I became truly concerned once Agna also pulled off the rough fur padding beneath it. Kyrah seemed as shocked as I was at the sight of Agna with only a thin strip of leather covering her breasts, yet my fears were quelled once I dared to take a closer look. Contrary to my concerns, I hadn’t done anything to provoke a sense of desire in her; in fact, Agna’s display had nothing to do with that emotion. She’d only sought to show me the mark on her chest—the dark imprint of a hand tattooed over her heart.

  “The Black Hand are an ancient tribe; our history goes back long before the time the oceans became impassible.” Agna’s head wavered back and forth slightly as she spoke, conveying her sense of disbelief. “The bond between you and my people is clear to me now, and I am honored to have been chosen to walk beside The One.”

  She’d uttered that title once before, but I hadn’t heard its implications at the time, yet the way Agna had spoken those two words left no room for me to doubt that it held some deeper meaning.

  “Who do you think I am?” I gave up trying to dissuade her and only sought to understand the role she’d given me.

  “There is a prophecy among my people about The One who will finally put an end to the Nér-vrogan,” Agna replied, obviously encouraged by my apparent acceptance of her vision. “Although there are many versions, all of them tell of a savior who not only speaks to the wild but will also come to us from beyond. Those phrases held little meaning for
me until I heard your tale; now, they seem all too clear.”

  “You are The One, Ashíel,” Agna’s voice trembled with pent-up emotion. “Born of a Goddess and sent to us not only from across the sea but even beyond this world. It is you who will free us from the tyranny that has ruled over these lands for far too long. I know it must seem daunting to you, but please don’t deny your destiny—countless lives are depending on you for their freedom.”

  Gee, thanks, no pressure there…

  “I’ve told you everything I know about myself.” I felt my shoulders begin to sag under the tremendous weight Agna had placed upon them. “I’m not convinced that I’m the person you believe me to be, but after seeing what the Nér-vrogan are doing, I’m willing to oppose them any way that I can. I’m just not sure how much I can do all by myself.”

  “But, isn’t that why you’re journeying to the Three Kingdoms?” Agna’s expression turned curious. “I thought your purpose was to join the resistance in the Free Lands?”

  “No.” I turned towards Kyrah in my confusion. “I didn’t even know there was a resistance there.”

  I might have suspected her motives, but Kyrah’s look of surprise seemed quite genuine, and I just couldn’t believe that she was capable of that level of deceit.

  ‘It seems your path had been well laid out for you, Ashíel,’ Scar’s amused words echoed inside my head.

  Oh, shut up! In my frustration, I couldn’t stop myself from snapping back at him.

  He didn’t offer a reply, but the stupid grin on Scar’s face when he rested his head down beside me spoke clearly enough on his behalf. Before I could lie down myself, I saw Agna beginning to reach for the clothing she’d removed, and her brow raised yet again when I stopped her from replacing the garments.

  “I think we may be received somewhat better if you were dressed less like a raider and more like one of us.” I eyed her tribal furs and clothing suspiciously. “Why don’t you let me give you something else to try on?”

  I made it clear that my question wasn’t a rhetorical one as I reached inside my pack and withdrew a clean pair of brown pants and a matching shirt for her. Agna looked askance at the strange outfit, yet she gave in and pulled the clothing on. Dressing in more typical clothes robbed Agna of some of her… menace, and I only hoped it would be enough to get us past any objections we might encounter.

  “You know,” Agna began to squirm just a little as Kyrah appraised her. “That really does help. I think if we braided your hair, it might make an even bigger difference.”

  “You’re not touching my hair.” Although she was clearly uncomfortable with the outfit, Kyrah had apparently found a line Agna wasn’t willing to cross. “No self-respecting orc would allow such a thing.”

  “I think that’s the point,” I tried to persuade her as gently as possible. “The only way we’re going to do this is if they perceive you as somewhat different than the orcs who pillage their territory.”

  “Would you prefer two braids or just one?” Kyrah was already moving into position behind Agna the moment she saw the orc’s resistance beginning to waver.

  “One,” I replied for her when Agna glanced nervously towards me for guidance. “A warrior’s braid.”

  It took quite some time for Kyrah to complete her task. Before she could even get started on the braid, Kyrah was forced to carefully brush out the many tangles in Agna’s thick hair, yet her efforts were more than rewarded by the results she achieved. With the dim light washing out the green tint of Agna’s skin, she could have almost passed for a human—and not an unattractive one either, at least until she smiled awkwardly. I didn’t make the mistake of telling her that, of course, and the knowing glance Kyrah and I exchanged told me that she shared my opinion.

  “I know you’re uncomfortable with this, Agna,” I spoke to her as she toyed nervously with the end of her braid. “But I think it will go a long way towards gaining acceptance when we reach the Free Lands.”

  “You’re right, on both counts,” Agna confessed with obvious reluctance. “I do not like this, yet it will certainly aid us once we’re in the Three Kingdoms.”

  “I’ve only ever heard the region referred to as the Free Lands,” I grasped the name she’d given them as a diversion. “What more can you tell us about them?”

  “They are somewhat like the lands you come from, Ashíel.” Agna’s hands still absently clung to her newly braided hair, but her attention was focused on me as she spoke. “There is a dwarven kingdom in the northernmost region, and an elvish one in the forested lands to the east, while a human king rules in the west, where we will arrive.”

  “Although the ruling families are divided that way, the people are not,” she continued to explain. “We found an even mixture of all races wherever we… explored.”

  “I cannot tell you much more beyond that,” Agna was forced to admit as her hands finally drifted away from her hair. “Our interaction with the people there was somewhat limited, as you probably already understand.”

  “We all have a past, Agna,” I responded to the guilty expression on her face. “Whatever yours may be, I don’t care about that. The only thing that matters is what we choose to do from now on.”

  “That’s very good advice,” Kyrah seized on my comment. “Perhaps you should follow it yourself.”

  That little…

  I was certain the nasty glare I shot back at her conveyed my annoyance at how well Kyrah had managed to throw my own words back in my face, yet the innocent-looking smile she gave me in return was confirmation of how little that seemed to bother her. She was right, of course. I just didn’t like it one bit.

  The afternoon had dwindled away during the time it had taken for me to tell the more complete version of my story, and in the silence that followed, I reached for my pack and ate a quick meal of cold rations. Speaking all those words out loud had forced me to confront some very uncomfortable truths I’d only been dancing around, and I realized that Kyrah’s admonishment had been far more on point than I’d first thought. I knew it was wrong to condemn Agna for her past mistakes, yet I continued to berate myself for my own transgressions. Somehow, it was just easier for me to forgive her than to absolve myself, but if I was to truly use my new-found powers to help the people of Runía, I knew I first had to free myself from my own sense of guilt.

  When Scar padded away to hunt for his own dinner, I could see Kyrah laying down across from me in the small cavern. As difficult as it was for me to admit, she’d not only been correct in turning my words against me, but I actually appreciated that she’d done so.

  “Thank you,” I whispered before my discomfort prevented me from speaking. “I needed to hear that.”

  “Just don’t make me have to remind you again,” her playful reply eased some of my awkwardness, and I returned Kyrah’s smile before laying down as well.

  Scar came back soon after and rejoined me. With his warmth beside me and my fingers wrapped in the dense tufts of his fur, I was able to fall asleep easily, despite the difficulties of the day.

  18

  When the sun rose the next morning, I hadn’t exactly forgiven myself for all my misdeeds, yet I also experienced a distinct sense of reprieve from the shame I’d been feeling. I knew it wouldn’t be an easy thing to let go of, but I took that as a positive sign.

  Considering our somewhat abbreviated travels the previous day, I woke Kyrah and Agna only a short while later, and we shared breakfast together before resuming our journey. I had to remind Agna of our nearly disastrous encounter with the worgs more than once to slow her hurried pace, but after another two weeks of marching through the wilds, the forest began to grow more sparse, and we managed to make it to the border of the Free Lands unscathed.

  While the untamed lands certainly possessed their dangers, now that we’d entered the free realms, we were immediately beset by a new peril. Although it was far safer for Kyrah and me, the kingdom we were now in offered a distinct risk for Agna. As an orc, she’d raided the
se lands, and the people here held no love for her kind. While I had no intention of leaving her, getting Agna past their wary guard was going to present a rather unique challenge.

  The first settlement we came upon wasn’t actually a village of any sort; in fact, it was clearly more of a military outpost than anything else. Although there was a separate civilian area with shops, homes, and even a small inn, the vast majority of the location was comprised of a heavily guarded garrison—no small wonder considering its precarious location so close to the wilds.

  Agna was reluctant to give up her weapons, but she was forced to admit that our chances of being accepted would only increase if she came forward unarmed. Besides, with the vast number of heavily armed soldiers in the camp, her arms would have made little difference if it came down to a fight. Stowing her blades in my pack, I promised to return them as soon as it was safe to do so, and we stepped out on the road, slowly approaching the outpost as we braced for their response. Our strange little group drew a perplexed reaction when we hailed the gate; the soldiers merely staring at us from atop the walls until a swarm of guards funneled out to surround us.

  If anything happens, I need you to run, Scar, I sent him as I surveyed the crowd of soldiers around us. I should be able to talk my way out of things, but I may not be able to protect you.

  ‘I’m not sure I can do that,’ he replied oddly.

  Do it anyway, please, I couldn’t bear the thought of him being injured… or worse.

  ‘No, you don’t understand,’ Scar’s words were still tinged with the same unusual tone. ‘I don’t think the bond between us will allow me to abandon you in the face of danger.’

  I really wish you would’ve told me that sooner, I swallowed hard as the apparent leader of the group stepped forward. With his strong features and confident bearing, the man might have cut quite a dashing figure, but the way he stared at us in open contempt only made me want to punch him right in his perfectly squared-off jaw.