Revenant's Resolve Chapter 15

Reznik felt a pain like the spike of a red-hot poker being shoved down his spine.

“Ah, good, he’s waking up.” A voice rattled through his ears and into his mind like an echo. “Rise and shine, thinker. We’re a short ride off from Bratsow, now, and I can’t have you riding through the city on the back of my horse like a corpse.”

Reznik’s eyes opened to a picturesque blue sky and white clouds wreathed with green foliage.

His entire body felt… odd.

Scratchy, even.

With a slow, groaning wheeze, he sat up.

Well…

Shit!

How long has it been since we wore clothes?

Did they take the time to dress me after all?

Oh this is wonderful, I just wish it didn’t feel like it was crafted from an old sack of grain.

“Shhiii” his body wheezed, blearily blinking and looking around the mostly packed campsite.

Luminita was loading up saddlebags with various incidentals, the horse was happily drinking water from a nearby babbling brook, and he was currently seated nearby the smoldering remnants of a small campfire.

His hands were also bound by metal cuffs covered in unfamiliar runework.

Well.

I suppose that if I had a man-eating Revenant in my camp, I would lock him down too.

“Pay the cuffs no mind. Consider them… part of your disguise, Thinker. I need to get you through the checkpoint, and the only real way to do that is to convince the guard that I’m simply back from campaign with a newfound out-of-character slave.” Zarah slapped him on his back and stepped around to his front, dressed in her somehow immaculate outfit, even after days of travel.

In response to her gentle pat, his body made a short, growling chuff before attempting to nibble at the hand as it passed.

“And that’s why, in part. I would like to avoid any… mmm, unfortunate accidents before we even make it home.” Zarah chuckled brightly, before reaching behind a log and pulling free a skinned rabbit on a spit. “Here. Consider this your… consolation prize, since I won’t allow you to snack on one of us.”

Near-immediately after Zarah placed the carcass into his bound hands, Reznik’s body began to greedily take bite after bite of the seared and juicy meat.

“Well, it’s good to know that you can eat other types of meat, instead of the screaming, squirming type.” Zarah teased with an amused grin as she watched him eat from several feet away.

I would’ve done it more often if this body of mine would’ve let me.

God, the taste of actual cooked food is a godsend after all this time - I hope things get better, and I’m able to get more of it more often.

Raw person is so stringy. I had a piece of mage lodged in my teeth for almost a day after the battle.

“Mmm, I wish my father enjoyed my cooking as much as you…” Luminita muttered as she secured a leather strap on the horse’s saddlebags with a snap.

Zarah’s eyebrows crept slightly skyward as she glanced over her shoulder and snorted.

“From what I can glean, he’s enjoying your rabbit a lot! The… specifics are a little fuzzy but…” Zarah clicked her tongue and took a moment to inhale as she clearly pieced together what she was about to say next. “I believe he’s thinking something along the lines of how much he’s missed eating cooked, real food, and that his past meals have been less than ideal.”

Yup! Close enough for me!

“Uurghp.” His body grunted in a way that felt decidedly like an agreement, as if attempting to vocalize a fragment of Reznik’s thoughts before it took another hasty bite.

Zarah’s head snapped back to stare pointedly into Reznik’s face.

Luminita also turned around to watch him with a slack-jawed expression.

“Di… Did I just hear him… -talk-?” Luminita questioned in a deeply concerned tone.

“I think? Maybe? No… Talk is a little too far, but that was communication of a kind.” Zarah inhaled through her nose before snorting and shaking her head. “It would seem I have found a very special Revenant indeed.

“I’ve fought several Revenants over the years, and their heads are always… empty. Devoid of anything that could be described as a soul, a living thing. Not even like a dog, or bird. Just a pit where thoughts should be.

“It’s why telepaths such as myself are so uniquely useful for fighting them. No defenses. No armor, nothing for them to cling to and fight back against from the inside.” Zarah explained before blowing out a breath through her nose. After a long, contemplative thought, she added: “Though, you, Thinker continue to interest me. The first time we met in the wastes, what I felt - that little spark in the back of your head was… dim. Just enough light in the empty halls of your mind to convince me to take note.

“Now, you’re like a candle. The growth you’ve shown on your own is… impressive, to say the least.”

And what is… a normal person like?

If I’m a candle, then are they the sun?

“I have a question, Zarah,” Luminita interjected a moment later, raising a hand to speak like she was in a classroom. “If he’s a candle, then what is everyone else like?”

“Ah, well, to use the same metaphor, most people are like a large bonfire of thoughts, emotions, memories, and beliefs. Constantly crackling and popping away with new thoughts, views, and judgments.” Zarah answered with a short, pleased nod at the other woman. Then, with a long sigh, Zarah pushed herself to her feet and glanced behind Luminita at the horse. “But I’m afraid this really is a conversation for another time. I would like to make it to Bratsow by nightfall, or earlier.

“You’ve done a good job preparing the horse, given how little experience you have, by the way. So, let’s get Thinker’s hood up, and tie him to the saddle - then, we’re off!”

* * *

Being pulled along behind a horse was an unfamiliar, unexpected, and decidedly uncomfortable experience for Reznik.

As was wearing clothes.

However, it was a tiny frustration in the back of his mind - far outshined by the fact that he was actually able to have a conversation for the first time in his memory.

Or at least a reasonable approximation of it.

Periodically, as he stumbled and shambled some distance behind the horse that the women rode upon, he would feel a presence that made no effort to hide itself inside his mind. It wasn’t like the previous sledgehammer-feeling wallops that Zarah used to put him to sleep, but instead felt comfortable, like an old friend sitting upon a mental couch.

Reznik felt a tinge of gratitude after he picked up on a pattern after the first hour or so of travel. Whenever Zarah and Luminita would set into a conversation longer than one or two sentences, the presence would arrive.

Zarah would offer him opportunities to join in their conversation, if to a hindered degree. He still couldn’t speak, or even truly communicate all that clearly with the telepath, but she understood his broader strokes.

She would be explaining towns in the distance, nearby mountains, or even the expected duties of Luminita as her handmaiden, and attempt to answer the general aim of his thoughts as if he was merely another traveler in their party, instead of an undead monster, or even the slave he was currently pretending to be.

Though, I suppose until I manage to… get better, if I even will, I kind of am.

Still an upgrade though.

They’d come down from a vast collection of rolling hills into a comparatively flat plain, on which a city sprawled.

Bratsow, capitol of the kingdom of Wallach.

As they drew near to the distant city, Reznik couldn’t help but marvel at the sheer amount of people. It was a far cry from the wastes, and even the town of Carcal paled in comparison.

More and more farms dotted the lands beside the road as they approached, and passing travelers grew ever more common of a sight. Even the small towns they had avoided on the way in had a fraction of the travelers that this road carried.

As the city of Bratsow grew from a series of distant specks to an omnipresent mass of red, black, and thatch-roofed buildings that dominated the foreground, the road transitioned from a well-kept but still dirt path, to a cobblestone highway.

Reznik’s nerves felt like cords pulled to their maximum tightness, fraying and close to snapping as more and more of the pedestrians and riders they passed shot speculative glances at the women on the horse ahead of him, then disdainful, wary glares to him.

Do… Do they know what I am?

No.

No, that’s not possible.

I would have far more blades at my throat if they did.

I- is it because they think I’m a slave?

The idea felt far more in-line with what he felt.

They scorn he felt from the particularly wealthy-dressed riders and pedestrians they passed felt far more in line to someone looking at a pile of manure they’d just spotted in their front lawn, as opposed to the fear that came with recognizing what he actually was.

This settled many of the rising anxieties in Reznik’s gut, but left him still decidedly uncomfortable.

“Calm yourself, Thinker. This is just the way life is in Bratsow.” Zarah’s voice was clear and reassuring inside of his mind, likely sensing his mental state. “Slaves aren’t viewed highly here. You will see far more of these looks as we actually get inside of the city walls. Out here, many aren’t even wealthy enough to afford one. Inside the gates, it becomes much more of a divisive issue.

“Be calm, and let me handle everything.”

Reznik looked up to the Elf just in time to catch her turning back to the stone gates they approached. Her demeanor changed, far closer resembling the admittedly terrifying telepath he’d met in the wastes, rather than her teasing, conversational personality he’d seen the past day.

She rode on her horse with a straight, confident posture, one hand holding the reins, the other rested on the hilt of her saber. An aura of violent promise felt as if it spilled off of her like a miasma of undesirable consequences to anyone who would test the steel on her hip.

“Luminita. Get off, and lead us in on foot. I will answer any questions the guard have.” Zarah commanded with a gentle wave of her hand, like she was merely dismissing the woman out of hand. As the horse came to a stop, Luminita brought a leg around the back of the horse, dropping to the ground with a snap of her leather soles hitting the cobblestone.

As they waited in the short line of people looking to enter the inner city, Reznik continued to take in eyefuls of the fantastic sights.

He couldn’t remember ever seeing a city of this scale before, and it was as alien a land to him as his would likely be to anyone here.

Outside the gates, traders had set up stalls selling all kinds of wares - food, tools, animals, even cheap-looking jewelry.

Who knew that all this lay just a short distance across the river.

It’s rather terrifying to think of - all those undead just a few days ride away.

I wonder if there’s ever been a major issue with that before?

Given the presence of the Riverguard, I’d imagine so. They seem fairly trained and organized, and that doesn’t usually happen without a good reason.

“Name and business?” one of the guards asked almost apathetically, waving their group over to the gate.

“Dame Zarah Bukewicz, returning home from the east, along with my handmaiden and slave.” Zarah snapped back in a sharp, acidic tone - as if the man questioning her arrival was an insult. Reaching into her coat, she withdrew a palm-sized round token and presented it to the guard.

“Apologies, Lady,” The guard snapped to a rigid, ramrod-straight pose with his spear-like axe clattering against his shoulder with the speed of it. “Your seal is noted, please, carry on!”

“Good.” Zarah snorted, stuffing what was apparently a seal back into the inside of her cloak and nodding to Luminita, who blinked owlishly before stutter-stepping forward and pulling on the horse’s reins.

A moment later, and so too was Reznik being pulled along behind the horse by the rope wrapped tightly around the metal links of his cuffs. Making eye contact with the guard as he passed, the soldier’s helmeted face turned to a sneer.

“Fuck you lookin’ at, slave?” the guard hissed, adjusting the grip on his weapon threateningly.

Looking away before the insult became a real, unavoidable threat, Reznik did his best to push the hostile man at the back of his mind.

Heh, a week ago, he might’ve been a snack.

On this side of the wall the shops abruptly transitioned from the mobile market stalls outside the wall and into genuine stores, taverns, and even what looked like a proper bakery.

He couldn’t remember ever eating pastries or bread, but the smell wafting from the storefront elicited memories of his tongue and the feeling of a full stomach.

Though, it was outside a butcher’s shop with the scents of raw and spiced meat where his gut began to rumble excitedly.

Perhaps the rabbit he’d had this morning wasn’t actually enough.

As the quality of the shops increased, so too did the dress of the people visiting them. Gone were the blandly-dressed citizens outside the gates, replaced with colorfully-dressed men and women of what felt like dozens of races moving to and fro, having conversations, and purchasing goods.

This… this doesn’t feel like I’m even on the same planet anymore.

It might as well be an entirely different universe from my home and even Carcal.

Like something out of the middle ages…

Reznik’s thoughts squirmed over that thought, unable to identify what the concept of “middle ages” even truly meant.

A concept he couldn’t understand beyond the idea that this place looked like it.

He abruptly felt Zarah’s presence in his mind again, gently prodding at his thoughts in a way that felt curious.

Like the telepath was just as interested in his lacking memories as he was.

“Turn here.” Zarah commanded from atop her horse, pointing to the right, down a wide and populated street at the intersection ahead.

Among the white noise of a thousand voices in the street, it was barely discernible to Reznik, almost three meters behind them.

Luminita nodded and complied, gently tugging on the lead to pull the horse in down the instructed path.

Eventually, the shops gave way to a series of tall, thin, multi-story homes with long lawns fenced with iron.

The word “townhome” sprang into Reznik’s mind, but he couldn’t fathom from where.

“This one.” Zarah said, pointing to one of the buildings that had seen better days. “Tie off the horse here, I’ll have it stabled at the keep when I go to see the Queen Regent and the king.”

The horse was tied off to a pole at the front gate of the property, and a moment later, Reznik was untied from the horse’s saddle by Zarah.

“This… this is a big house, Lady,” Luminita nodded at the home as Zarah pulled a ring of keys from her pocket and unlocked the wrought-iron gate. “It feels like it’s nearly as big as the mayor’s mansion!”

“Mmm, I am Dame, after all…” Zarah muttered frustratedly when the key she’d selected failed to work. Selecting the next one in the series, she successfully unlocked the gate, opened it, and led the trio in. “Honestly, I feel as if I’ve spent far too many weeks on campaign or in the wastes to care whether my home is a shack or a castle.

“It has food, a hearth, and a bed - several of them, in fact! More than enough for humble, humble me.”

Zarah led them to the front door, successfully unlocked it on the first try, and threw it open.

The inside of Zarah’s home was sparsely decorated, coated in a faint layer of dust that gave it an almost abandoned feeling. In fact, the only indication that this was, in fact, an occupied home was the slew of open and haphazardly stacked books on nearly every flat surface.

“So many books…” Luminita whispered in a borderline awestruck tone.

Glancing over to the woman, Reznik saw that she was staring with wide, almost hungry-looking eyes at the scattered literature around the room.

Zarah chuckled and slowly shook her head, gently tugging on Reznik’s lead as she trekked deeper into the home.

“Luminita, how confident do you feel making your way back to the market we just passed, and buying foodstuffs for tonight and tomorrow on your own?” Zarah questioned as she led Reznik to a door inside the main front room.

If Reznik had to guess, it was a door to some kind of basement.

“I’ll be paying, of course, but do you feel you remember the main streets well enough to make it back safe?” Zarah inserted a key into the lock and opened it to a dark, almost foreboding stairwell.

“I believe I can do that - it’s only a couple turns after all!” Luminita affirmed confidently as Zarah began to descend the steps, pulling Reznik along behind her.

Zarah pulled a rectangular lighter from a belt pocket when she made it to the bottom of the stairs and sparked it, lighting a candle that looked brand-new, other than the charred wick. It was made from an odd, red wax, decorated in unfamiliar sigils that made Reznik wonder if it was really a normal candle.

It lit the space of the small, single-room basement more than brightly enough for Reznik, but he imagined that at least Luminita would struggle to see.

He didn’t actually know if Elves could see better in the dark.

Zarah knelt down and tied the lead to a metal eyelet in the far corner, giving Reznik just enough distance to touch the tip of his foot to the base of the stairs, but no further.

“I must go make my reports to the King.” Zarah deftly dodged past Reznik and approached Luminita, who stood halfway down the steps. She pulled a pouch from within a larger pouch on the back of her belt and pressed it into Luminita’s hands. “Go to the market before it closes, and get items to prepare dinner. Luckily, we know he does eat cooked food so…

“Hmm, just get him a large steak from the butcher’s shop, and a plucked chicken, and whatever else you’d like for the two of us.” Zarah wrapped an arm around Luminita and began to herd her upstairs. “Relax, you have little to worry about, the inner-city is decently safe before da-“

The door shut with a resounding thud, and the lock was thrown, leaving Reznik in an empty, stone basement that had more in common with the prison cell he’d been in in Carcal.

For the first time in ages, silence felt uncomfortable to him.

It felt less like the comfort of empty space, without threats to worry about, and closer to the absence of anything to hold onto.