Final Part - 04 | A Dawn Once Slumbering

Bitter cider spills down your throat. A cup clinks in the distance, joined by a throng of voices all blending into one blurry noise that transcends the echo of jugs filled to the brim with bittersweet alcohol hitting the tables. Ceaseless chatter pours in and out of your ears, and your eyes find the many patrons filling seats around you. For such a small town, it's got a naturally lively bar. An equally lively guild branch to boot.

You set your cup down, your body feeling unusually heavy for one reason or another. Even sitting, you've never felt more sluggish, like your muscles have been turned to brick, and your bones to steel.

"That's quite the story," says the voice across from you — the boy who took it upon himself to buy a few rounds of drinks for the two of you. "And after all this, they just up and left you." You look to his gentle jade-like eyes, as they glitter like jewels against the natural light of the room and swirl with thought at your words from earlier.

Despite his being a stranger, you ended up divulging the story of your time attending Ranoa Academy, that which was plagued by indubitably bizarre happenings. Stretching from the sisters and their control over you for a time, to their fear against a corrupt, rebellious section of the student body, and now—

Now their sudden departure.

"I fear the worst," you say and take another slow swig of your drink. "Pursena... I can't stop thinking about her. Her safety."

Rudeus falls silent, glancing down at his drink.

Your eyes, too, descend to your cup. Within, the cider beckons, swirling amidst wooden ridges and materializing your shoddy reflection in the blink of an eye. Who you see is someone you have once been before — a shell, empty and lacking the strive to smile. Thick, sullen bags carve out the shape of your eyes. A frown is forever etched through your lips.

"Did you have feelings for these two?" Rudeus asks, casting a long stare at you again. "If you did, I'd personally say you're a bit of a masochist, but that's not—"

"I did." Your answer is resolute. As you turn over images of the beast-girls in your head, that confession comes all the more easier than you would like. "Not both of them, of course. But Pursena... she was something special."

The dawn of that kiss flashes behind your eyes.

You can almost taste Pursena on your lips again.

The boy across from you arches an eyebrow, pausing in preparation to drink from his cup. "If you love her, why aren't you looking for her?"

As Rudeus poses the question, you find yourself mindlessly dragging the tip of your tongue across your lips.

"I don't have a clue where to start," you answer honestly. "Plus—"

"So you're just gonna sit around forever and wonder?" Rudeus sets down his cup, shifting his hands to the table. "They could be out there suffering as we speak. Or worse — they could be dead already."

"I'm sure they just went back to their tribe and tried to smooth things over with their families."

"Tribe?" Rudeus leans in, a bright flicker of surprise jumping to his green eyes. "You never said anything about tribes."

You shrug your shoulders gently. "Didn't mean to leave that part out."

"So they're beast-folk?"

"They are."

"What tribe?"

"Doldia, I think."

Rudeus moves to lean back in his seat. The wooden chair creaks softly, and that noise is all you hear as the rest of the bar's sound drowns out into oblivion. Chatter dies away into a dreamy silence. The joined resounding clank of wooden cups and utensils hitting portions of meat and vegetables fall into obscurity.

A look of realization crosses Rudeus' face, and you pour all your attention into the boy.

"So it's her," he whispers barely loud enough to hear.

You raise your voice, your interest suddenly piqued by that stunned gaze flowing across Rudeus' features. "What do you know, Rudeus?"

"More than I thought I did, that's for sure."

He rises from the table, leaving behind a cup half-full and a plate of bread crumbs. His eyes drawn to the hulking mass of a man far behind the counter across the room, he reaches into the pocket of his long coat and brandishes a plump bag of coins. He tosses it on the table, and an echoless thud bounces from underneath it. Rudeus stares to you, gesturing toward the bar door with a jerk of his head.

"Let's talk outside," he says. His handsome smile from before has faltered entirely, replaced by a hardened and distant face.

. . .

Outside, nightfall boasts an icy chill, the bridge of stars above you swallowed by a dazzlingly skittish snowfall. The town is faintly illuminated by the glow of solemn little homes standing guard against the winter, a small beacon of orange pinned in the midst of a sky that has been drowned by the snow.

A sight you wish you could relish in the company of the sisters.

Rudeus throws himself up onto the fence, placing his staff between his knees as he stares over at you.

Without hesitation, he moves into the topic at hand, and you willingly train keen intent on the boy. "Some time before I started wandering again, I came across that Doldia tribe you spoke of," he begins. "I guess, at this point, I could say I'm acquainted with them in one way or another. But while I was in their company, I heard a lot about a very... specific slave owner."

With bated breath, you await his name.

Rudeus' eyes burn with something like fury as the words slip from his mouth.

"The great Augustus. Renowned across regions for his tyranny, how he collects women like dolls and brings brutality down on anyone who challenges his authority."

As you listen to the boy explain, you're sure you can vaguely see his hands trembling, clutched around the glossy stem of his staff. Whether it's from fear or anger, you don't know.

"He's sick," the boy continues through gritted teeth. "He relentlessly breeds his slaves until they're pregnant and on the cusp of death, then profits from the offspring. The cycle continues and no one tries to step to him."

"It's great and all that you know this," you interject, "but what does this have to do with you knowing about the sisters?"

"Well, I caught word of a beast-girl's situation when I was hanging around that tribe. Something about an oath and mandatory marriage. Never learned which sister specifically went through this. Not till today."

"Right. Pursena told me she wanted to marry me to save herself... basically. If she doesn't marry someone, Augustus will take her."

"A person like Augustus doesn't play by the rules." Rudeus narrows his eyes at you, fidgeting with his staff. "If I had to guess, I'd say he found Pursena and her sister already, and he's holding them hostage regardless of the marriage condition."

It's entirely possible, you realize. A hard pill to swallow. Your once-sluggish body feels even more weighed down by the pressure of this thought, that the Doldia sisters really are locked up behind bars somewhere, or perhaps chained in Augustus' chambers where he can freely do as he pleases with them.

It's horror. You squeeze your eyes closed tight as you imagine the sisters succumbing to the influence of a man in utter control, restrained against their will and transformed into soulless dolls made to breed.

"What the hell do I do?" you whisper, your voice breaking apart. "What do I do?"

"Well... there's one thing I haven't mentioned yet."

You look up at the boy. Before, his eyes glimmered like crystals, gentle and captivating. Now, they rage as wildly as an inferno on the brink of expanding into a sea of flames — oddly familiar to you. You recognize the gaze of exorbitant anger to be similar, if not exactly the same, as the eyes Linia bore on the day of your brawl.

The same day you lost the sisters.

"I know where he is," Rudeus says.

* * *

A bell chimes. Stuffy, humid air swims like the most viscous liquid through her nostrils. In the air, there is the smell of body odor, of stale bedsheets, and of her very own body, reduced only to a machine repurposed for bearing children.

Vaguely transparent robes cling loosely to her frail, malnourished body.

One look down toward her legs and she sees it — the symbol of her new owner, glowing subtly against the pale skin standing just inches above her crotch. Pursena's lips twitch with a despairing depression.

The womb tattoo implanted on her flesh has never looked more stunning.

A rough pair of fingers cup her sharp chin, forcing her to stare into the viper's eyes. Augustus smiles down gently at his pet.

"Do you like your new tattoo?" he says and gestures to the pink glow.

Pursena's voice is drained — no, it is already dead. Her response, though dry, is still pleasing to the cruel man's ears.

"Yes, Master."

"That's a good girl." Augustus casts a glance towards the bed, those warm blankets he would often tangle himself and her within as he tasted the ripe fruits of bodily pleasure. "Now that the magic has taken its roots, tell me, pup. What exactly will you do for me?"

Pursena blinks her weighted eyes.

"Anything, Master."

"Very good. Now, ready yourself. Today marks our sixtieth session." He grasps her shoulder, leading her toward the bed. Like a senseless puppet on strings, her movements comply. "I want to hear you this time. That sweet voice and those delicious moans of yours, I miss them. You've been painfully quiet recently. Whip yourself into shape, puppy."

Pursena nods. "Forgive me, Master."

A flicker of emotion crosses her face as she contemplates the man's vile words. But it's no more than that.

As Augustus lays her down on her back and she proceeds to spread her legs, Pursena realizes she has forgotten to cry.

"I will do better," she whispers.