The Soul Refiner Bk 01 Ch 10 12

Chapter 10

The next morning I was oddly fragrant when I awoke. Cinnamon and pepper, along with an assortment of other aromas permeated my senses. I was surprised the scent hadn't infiltrated my dreams. The pot of oil I'd used last night had been taken from the brazier and stoppered, replaced with water for washing. A folded cloth lay nearby. Somehow Myta had gotten up without waking me, and was already taking care of morning chores in the dim predawn light. Currently she was milking the goats.

I washed up quickly, replacing my soiled clothes and preparing the morning pot of porridge. Making a significantly larger amount than I would normally. The restorative dish was something that I ate as a staple, in small amounts, or fed to patients unable to eat much at a time. Myta, however, was starving this morning. I thought that perhaps her partially restored spirit was working to rebuild her body to some template, some remembered 'ideal' state. It would need a great deal of nutrition to accomplish that.

When she entered the tent with the fresh milk I pointed her to the empty fermenting urn. She added the new milk without a word, and seated herself near me. The silence between us was easy, comfortable. And I was reluctant to break it.

"We should speak about last night." I finally spoke, while dishing out our breakfast. "Normally a spiritual healing does not have side effects like that. Pain, and the sense of connection, even invasive connection are inevitable. The sexual reaction was far outside the norm."

For a long moment she looked at me, her brow furrowed in mild confusion. She had already begun taking bites of her porridge when a look of understanding crossed her face.

"Do not worry, master. I can tell that you do not desire me in my current condition." She smiled, again with that warm amusement I was quickly growing to appreciate. "Hopefully my figure will be restored quickly with your care. Until it is, I can relieve you in other ways."

"That wasn't quite my point." I said, though in truth last nigh had indeed left me feeling more than a little unfulfilled. "As your physician, I need to ensure that you are comfortable with me. That you can trust me with your wellbeing."

Her laugh was like music to my ears, cutting through my embarrassment. "Oh, rest assured master, I was very comfortable."

"Right, well then take your time with breakfast. Space it out with breaks or you may still become sick.' She nodded an acknowledgement, still clearly amused as she resumed eating. I set up a treatment station inside the tent, allowing the activity to settle my mind. It took me a short while to decide how I wanted things placed for maximum efficiency, and the mental exercise was meditative. Myta ate as I'd instructed, consuming a portion such as I'd previously given her for a meal, then busying herself with some minor task to distract her, until she was ready for another portion. Once she was finished eating I had her wait outside, to greet those who would come for treatment.

The day passed quietly. I treated those who came to see me, accepting some minor gifts from patients. These were above and beyond the payment I'd already negotiated with the camp's leader. Between sessions I meditated, trying to cleanse the filthy mana I was accumulating, turning it into something usable. During each session I made idle talk with my patients, trying to gather any news I could about further outbreaks, or the mysterious hooded travelers that might be spreading the disease. Idle talk was not one of my strongest skills.

After one particularly painful instance of me trying to convince a swarthy woodcutter that I was interested in asking the group where I could purchase hooded robes like theirs, Myta sighed in frustration.

"Just ask them. There's nothing strange about a physician asking about sickness in the neighboring areas, and even less suspicious about investigating those who might spread it." She looked at the woodcutter, whom I was still treating, gesturing vaguely at the man.

"It's true, doctor. We all knows medicine is a ghoulish business. If you aren't headed toward the plague, well, you're not much good to folks, are you?"

I kept my questions to the point after that.

It took me half a day to realize that I always knew where Myta was, what she was doing, and how she was feeling. It was such a natural sensation that I simply took it for granted. What finally brought it to my attention was when I sent her to eat a second lunch, and she told me she wasn't hungry. I felt a spike of anger, because I knew that it wasn't true. She was, in fact, famished. Despite having eaten a large midday meal only an hour before. Only then did I wonder how I knew that.

"You need to take care of your body right now." I told her firmly, allowing my tone to go a little icy. "The faster you recover, the better you will serve me. And I will not tolerate you sabotaging yourself."

"Yes, master." Her response was clipped, sounding almost angry. But I had the sense that she was more scared, perhaps frustrated. She gathered some food, setting down to it like the extra meal would be a chore. Within a few bites however, she began tearing into the food. I could feel the surprise rolling off of her.

"You didn't realize you were hungry, did you?" She shook her head in answer to my question, ducking her head to hide her face even as she ate. She was embarrassed, confused, and in some way even a little pleased that I had read her so easily. I sighed, squeezing her shoulder.

"I apologize for snapping at you." I said. "But, for now, you are my responsibility. I need you to listen to me, if I am to care for you properly. Do you understand?"

She nodded silently, and I let the matter drop but I began to test the link between us as I had time. I could tell her rough direction and distance from me, and if I was familiar with the location I was simply aware of where she was. I could sense when she was thinking of me, though not any other particulars of her thoughts. And though I sometimes felt glimmers of her emotions, my keenest sense was of her physical wellbeing. Hungry, sore, tired, or even injured; I was aware of them almost before she was.

I also discovered that she knew when I needed her. Not consciously, not with any real clarity, but when I wanted her assistance she would arrive only moments later. It was fascinating, convenient, and worrisome all at once. Three days we stayed at the outpost, while I treated everyone that I could. The contagion was my priority, but I also handled other sicknesses and minor injuries. My mana was too drained to treat Myta's spirit again, and I made little profit in there. The nameless outpost had simply been hit too hard, their resources stretched too thin. Perhaps worst of all, I gained little information about the viridian contagion, or the mysterious travelers.

Kubek's ultimatum weighed heavily on me. He'd given me no time limit to stop the contagion, and claimed that I couldn't help but find the information I needed. Even so, spirits were often fickle beings. I had no desire to be killed because the god decided that I'd been avoiding his task. My only clue was to continue following the low road, south and east toward Bani. Even that was an uncertain prospect. The "low road" was not a singular road or path, not really. Instead it was a euphemism for all the many roads that circled the base of Mount Ramana, joining the kingdom's lesser cities. Yes there was one main thoroughfare, but many detours and parallel paths. Given how widespread and unreliable the rumors of sickness seemed, my best bet for now seemed to be simply carrying on with my regular route. It felt frustratingly like doing nothing, and I hated doing nothing when there was a task ahead of me, but sometimes waiting was better than ill-informed action.

One incredibly bright spot to my stay in the outpost however, was the speed of Myta's recovery. Each breakfast she had several servings of my restorative porridge, and she ate about three times as much food as even a healthy and active woman should for the rest of the day. She continued to build a healthy balance of fat and muscle, whatever was guiding her body continuing in full effect. Midday on the third day her appetite abruptly dropped off to a robust, but normal, level. Her energy also spiked, to the point that she began wandering the town and nearby region when I didn't have enough work to keep her occupied. More telling for me, she began to generate a reasonable amount of mana. Her hair became lustrous, though still closer to the color of blood than flame, and her eyes shone more brightly.

When we harnessed the goats and headed out, I was glad to put the camp behind us. In places like that, there were always prying ears about, and I needed to sort some things out with my redheaded slave.

Chapter 11

I was building myself up to the conversation with Myta, but she beat me to it. We'd been on the road for perhaps an hour, long enough to leave behind the camp's traffic. There were no other travelers on this stretch of road, and the two of us shared a companionable silence. So when I felt her nervousness spike for no apparent reason, I became alarmed.

"Master," her voice caused me to jump, startled as I already was. "The other day you said that I was your responsibility, until my spirit was healed. What happens to me after that?"

"When you are well, and we return to Kuru, I can see about transferring your bond back to your aunt." The thought of it pained me, more than I expected. Myta had been more lively over the past days. Her warm amusement and rare laughter coming more readily. It was difficult to imagine losing them in only another year. "Ket told us our bond is different than a standard slave bond, so it may take some time and research to determine how to do so safely."

"And what if..." she hesitated for a long moment, refusing to meet my gaze. "What if I do not wish to be bound to Pedu?"

"I do not know how to remove the bond entirely, it is designed to be irreversible. Simply severing it would bleed your mana..."

"That is not what I'm saying." She cut me off, a stark break from her normal deference "I am asking, what if I wish to remain with you?"

"That..." I could feel her fear, bordering on panic. A strange compliment to my own internal turmoil. "Ket told us the bond influences our emotions. I think that may be influencing your desire to remain with me. I do not wish to compel your loyalty, or your obedience."

"Don't you?" There was that smile, almost a smirk. "I think you enjoy compelling me." A moment later the mirth faded from her face, and she looked away again. "I promise you that I wish to remain, and for my part I do not care if that feeling is caused by the bond. You have taken care of me, treated me better than I have been treated in a long time. And given me a purpose to focus on.

"I understand that my presence endangers you though I am honestly not sure why. But I meant it when I said that I would work to make myself useful. Ket also said that you would need to depend on me soon. Please, let me be useful."

I couldn't argue with her resolve. In truth, I didn't want to. "Very well. I will consider you to be my servant for the foreseeable future. Unless you change your mind."

*Vas, she is your vas.* I was somehow unsurprised by the mental voice, even though I'd seen no hint of the leopard spirit's presence. Myta touched my arm, making a contented noise. In fact I felt the satisfaction flow from her at Ket's assertion. Idly, I ran my hand up her back, gently scratching her scalp.

"Ket, do you happen to know of a clearing nearby?" If she was here, then perhaps she could serve as a more literal guide.

*Yes. I will tell your goats.* Not quite the response I'd expected, but when the goats turned towards a small game trail a short time later, I let them have their heads. It didn't take too long to reach the spirit's promised clearing, a glade perhaps thirty feet across. The ground was relatively level, carpeted thickly with clover, and seemed relatively free of boulders. It would suit my purpose well.

"Climb on down and limber up." I told Myta, as I hopped off the bench to searching through our gear. I pulled out what I needed to set an abbreviated camp figuring that we could linger here until lunch. As I got to work clearing the area for a small fire I kept an eye on her. She ran through a series of stretches and warming exercises, ones that the Pure monks commonly used. Functional, but I could show her better ones later. She showed no signs of fatigue or strain, though it did appear that she was less limber than a practiced martial artist should be. If my eyes didn't deceive me, she was significantly less limber than she expected to be as well. A strange exception for whatever had guided her body back to her 'peak' condition. When she was done with those, I tossed her the crude spear I'd bought at the camp.

"Forms," I said simply as she caught the weapon. She hesitated, and I thought perhaps it might have been the first time she had done so, when I'd given her a clear instruction. For some reason she was nervous, and that itched at my curiosity. I was not a student of sun's ray, but she seemed certain enough of the form. It was an aggressive style, favoring bursts of speed and rapid thrusting attacks. It was style well favored by many who were aspected to fire, especially among the Pure. Still, something about her motions felt off to me, like a dancer stepping just off-beat. She came to the end of her forms panting, and looking somewhat ill.

"Again," I said. Keeping a closer eye on her individual motions as she started her forms over. That was when I started to see it. Here, the muscles of her forearm twitched in the middle of a thrust. There, her leg tried to drop her during an advance. Mentally cursing, I looked at her spirit as she moved through the steps. What I saw was like nails scraping slate to my spiritual sense.

All martial arts forms that I knew of were designed to harness the spirit, empowering the body. They encouraged the flow of mana, directing the energy to empower the attacks and maneuvers of the form. Not all spirit bodies were the same, so the forms needed to be somewhat flexible. Most martial artists would unconsciously adjust the form as they practiced it, altering the moves to align with their own meridians. Right now, Myta's spirit form was in revolt, her motions were twisting against her channels, causing her mana to clot like old blood. It was possible that somehow, against all my experience, she had naturally developed a version of this form that actively harmed her. From the look of discomfort and concentration on her face however, I doubted it.

"Repeat the forms until I tell you to stop." I told her, ignoring the pulse of frustration I felt from her. "And while you are doing that I need you to answer some questions for me. This is very important, not just for me, but to determine our future together. Do you understand?"

"Yes master." Her response was quick and firm, her expression shifting from uncomfortable to resolved. Good, now I just needed to keep her attention occupied.

"What is it that you expect from me, what is it that you want from me, as your... veth?" Ket let out an approving rumble when I finally settled on the term the spirits used.

"I... don't understand. As your slave, your vas, i am here to serve your wants."

My scoff was mirrored by the cat spirit, and I felt a spike of surprised kinship with her, but I kept my focus on Myta. Her expression was genuinely confused, which frustrated me just a little, but her motions were adjusting slowly as she was distracted from the forms.

"Only a fool imagines that a bond like we share would wipe away your desires. And while I have met many such fools, I'd prefer not to because me one. You asked, specifically, to remain with me. For me to be the one holding your bond. Tell me why." Eyes distant, she failed to respond for long minutes. I could feel her mind racing in circles, trying to make sense of her own feelings. "Talk to me Myta, tell me what you're thinking."

"Master I... you make me feel certain, safe. With you, my choices are simple and clear. You told me that I needed to become useful to you, and then instructed me on how to do so. When I make a mistake, you explain my error. When I succeed, you tell me that I have done well."

"And you former masters did not." It wasn't a question, but she nodded anyway. "They despised you for your birth, sabotaged your work, and set you to impossible tasks. And even when you gave your best efforts to them, they made you feel a failure. Like you could never be good enough, not because of what you did, but for who you are."

"Yes, master." Her voice was rough with emotion. There was rage in it, and bitterness, even a strong helping of shame. I understood exactly how she felt, and not just from the bond. A long time ago, I'd carried those same chains, and my heart ached in sympathy.

"I understand then, what you need from me. I will try to be explicit, and clear, about my desires and expectations. I will continue to correct any errors that you make, and provide an explanation if I am displeased with you at any point. I will also continue to let you know when you have met, or especially when you have exceeded my expectations. Which you have done now, by the way. Stop doing the forms, now." She followed her last form to it's conclusion, and then fell into a rest position, panting lightly. I stepped in close to her, cupping her cheek and tilting her head so that I could directly meet her gaze.

"Myta, I take responsibility for you. Not just as your physician, but as you veth, whatever that will mean." I paused to try and sort out my thoughts, because this felt like a kind of pivotal moment, a sacred path. And I could tell that she felt the same. "I am not perfect, but I will do my best to fill your needs. If they aren't being met, of if you decide you wish to end our relationship, you will tell me." I slipped my hand to the back of her head, tangling my fingers in her hair, clenching my fist to pull it tight against her scalp. I'd done this before, in the shared visions, but not in the real world. There was something viscerally satisfying about it, something that made my blood surge, and my teeth ache to bite her neck.

Whimpering a little, she nodded, or she tried to at least. Her head pulled against my grip, and though she tried to finish the gesture and acknowledge my last statement, she got a little lost in the feeling of my hand pulling at her hair. Close enough. I released her, slowly and deliberately, so she had plenty of time to steady herself. Truth be told, my own legs were a little unsteady. Ket was still watching us, keeping her peace, but I could practically feel the rumble of an approving purr. Apparently, even without particularly understanding the dynamics of a veth and vas relationship, I was doing well.

"Now you have impressed me, by how quickly you overcame training that was meant to cripple you." My vas blinked rapidly, attempting to clear her head. I sympathized, but we still had work to do. "How do you feel?"

"I feel... good?" Her answer sounded like a question, and I understood her confusion immediately.

"How you were doing the forms before, you trainers drilled them into you very strictly, very precisely. Didn't they?" She nodded. "The were trying to cripple you, to disrupt your spirit. That is why you would feel tired and sick when doing them." For a moment Myta was lost in memories, undoubtedly reviewing all her training in a new light. I felt her disbelief, which slowly transformed into surprise, and then sparked into anger. Her eyes shone brighter, and I saw a ripple of lighter crimson move through her hair.