Interconnected: Spliced Souls

I encountered Momo and Srassa in the lobby after returning to the guild. The noble was utterly exhausted.  

“Ms. Momo’s…workout… It was so hard…” panted Srassa, who wiped her brow with a pink handkerchief pulled from her pouch.  

“That’s because you exercised in your armor. You’re a mad woman, Srassa. Seriously, how are you even walking at this point?” Momo exclaimed; surprise evident on her face. “But that was just the warm-up! Today, we’re going to do something a little different.”  

We followed Momo to the quest board, where she picked out something I didn’t expect. It was a help wanted sign for day laborers to work the farms at Lucoa Village. Stuff like tending the fields, washing the cows, feeding the pigs, and breaking the horses, but I didn’t recall seeing any when we were there.  

Momo explained that this kind of work put your entire body to work, stressing muscles and areas that you didn’t know you had. She also said I looked like the definition of a farm girl because of my overalls.  

Since neither Srassa nor myself had any issues with this plan, we quickly accepted the quest and departed for Lucoa Village.   

The morning sun was beautiful and hot, shining its bright, brilliant rays of warmness upon all who received its blessing. It was almost like a storybook moment– the yellow canaries– of which this city was named after– danced as they soared across the sky. Their chirps were as lovely as they were high-pitched. And we weren’t the only ones hitting the road early. The city was cramped with go-getters getting on to their daily tasks. We shared the road to our destination with about fifteen other groups. The number dwindled as they turned to different routes and departed across the rolling plans of verdant grass to potentially take a shortcut.   

Once it was just us and a few others possibly heading to take on the same quest, Momo reached into her bags and pulled out a pair of overalls.  

“Is that for us?” asked Srassa, who had her hands behind her back, looking at her instructor with a vibrant, cute smile.   

“Yep. Remember when I left after dinner? It was to get these bad boys. We can get changed at the farm. When I told Jony about today, he prepared lunch for us.”  

“You really thought of everything, didn’t you, captain?”  

“Hehe! Yep. That’s another rule. Plan meticulously. Always plan for things you didn’t even plan for. Plan for unexpected scenarios, and plan for what's expected.”  

“Some of that doesn’t make sense, captain. But I get the gist of it. It’s a good mindset to have.”  

The rest of the journey was spent in idle chatter, but Momo realized something was up with me when she said my smile lacked its usual sparkle. Didn’t know what that meant, but I told her I had to find a new place to live.  

“Wait, you got kicked from that inn? What was the name again? The Crimson Grotto?”  

“Ye–”  

“The Crimson Grotto?!?!” Srassa suddenly blurted out, her eyes wide with a slight hint of panic. “Servi, you’ve been staying there?!”  

“What’s the big idea? It’s just an inn, right?”  

“No, Ms. Momo. Father told me it’s a place where lonely men experience a woman's comfort.”  

“So, it’s a brothel? I don’t– No, don’t tell me! Servi, you’ve been selling your body?!” Momo shared the same look of utter dread.  

“As long as you’re doing it willingly without being forced into it, I don’t see why it’s a big deal. The woman I lived with was as nice as she could possibly be. She fed and took me in when I was a stranger, so I’m here because of her. But no, I didn’t sell my body. I don’t have any plans to do that.  But it was more that I voluntarily left rather than getting kicked out. The elf I lived with had a roommate. I fucked up badly when I tried to help her, and she hasn't forgiven me. To keep the peace, I decided to leave.”  

Srassa and Momo looked relieved, which almost rubbed me the wrong way. Nimyra was a prostitute, but whatever preconceptions they shared about that were wrong. The blond-haired noble correctly remembered that the inn bordered close to the slums, which made Momo look more uneasy. When she asked if I was homeless, she was technically correct. Srassa, without a moment’s worth of hesitation, offered me a room at her house. In her words, it wouldn’t be right for her friend to be alone without the comfort of safety over her head when she herself had ample space to give.   

But it was up to her father, not her, so I would have to meet him. However, it would be detrimental to my goal to remain with her. It'd be harder to sneak out to the slums. Plus, she probably had guards patrolling her estate. Momo said you had to enter through two gates to reach the front door. There wasn’t a good way to gently decline her offer without hurting the kind girl’s feelings, so I just said I had a backup option. Yes, it meant I remained in the slums. But once I said I didn’t want to talk about it anymore, they dropped the subject.   

An apology flowed from my lips, however, and I thanked Srassa and told her she had a heart kinder than most. Even someone like me could tell, which made her blush and smile. So, that was nice.   

“Just to let you know,” said the armored girl. “The offer is always going to be available to you. And I mean that. I really do.”  

And that was all we said about the subject, but I knew they were still thinking about my living situation.   

When we reached our destination, we went to the elder’s house, which sat in the middle of the village, right near a stream of water. The aged man with a whimsy, white beard adjusted his glasses and asked if we were sure we wanted to work for the day, and Momo nodded. She said it was to train our bodies, which was good enough for him.   

“I ain't gonna turn my nose up at help. Go on. Get dressed and ready and meet me by the south field. We have corn to plant.”  

The only appropriate place to change was in the nearby barn, so I waited outside for them. 

Momo left first. She seemed shy with how she kept her hands behind her back, but she flashed a bright smile and posed after I complimented her. 

Srassa was next. She peeked around the door and shook her head. Momo eventually ran to her, grabbed her hand, and gave her some ‘encouragement.’ But the poor noble dropped to her knees in embarrassment.  

“Oh, yeah. Now we’re the Overall Gals! It looks super good on you, Srassa!” 

“Ms--Ms. Momo, umm... It’s... a bit tight...” 

Momo raised an eyebrow and eyed Srassa’s rather large chest. I noticed she was bustier than most other women, but the armor she wore did a fair bit to hide it.  

“Eh, you still look super cute! You gotta rock that look, Srassa. Hehe, this kinda reminds me of my kittenhood.” 

The singi spoke of when her grandfather altered his old working clothes to suit Momo when she was a child because she wanted to work just like him. She was like a shadow, watching everything he did and learning even the tiniest lesson.   

“But that's enough of that! Come on, girls. It's time to get physical!”  

And we got physical. Between the long hours of tilling the field to plant corn, digging an irrigation ditch, using shovels to clean up the animal shit, hauling hay, carrying large, heavy logs the lumberjacks tore down in the forest, and making time to load the wagons for their scheduled deliveries...   

I had no idea how these people did it. I was only okay because of my [True Immortality], which did get me a lot of attention as I hustled between doing what needed to be done. But the work was fun. It was rewarding and simple-- giving me time to relax my weary mind from this morning's events. 

Srassa and Momo had their own duties, so it was me and my thoughts.   

Truthfully, I didn't really want to leave Nimyra. Staying with her was fun, and not just because we fooled around. She was a warm day of softness, and my heart went pitter-patter every time I saw her. The kindness she showed me almost outright said there was good to be found in this shitty town. That wasn't to say Siora, Tim, Srassa, Momo, or the others I met weren't any worse. In the case of the former, she was a guard, so Siora was probably supposed to be pleasant and understanding.   

Or maybe not. Those two goddamn assholes who tortured those two kids and killed me weren't forced to be a pair of jackasses.   

I still needed to deal with them. But how? That was the question I asked myself when it was time to break for the lunch prepared by Jony, which was really more of a dinner. He'd salted some meat and prepared a healthy serving of spinach, carrots, and baked fish, which we ate while chatting with Svelte.   

Momo and Srassa were looking noticeably tired. Svelte commented on that and said he couldn't last the day when he was first starting. It took him a couple of months to have the stamina– and even longer to stay up past dusk.   

The nearby lakes provided all the water they could ever hope to drink. As lunch ended, my three friends were super surprised at my lack of exhaustion.   

“Like, you're not even sweating. Your brow’s still totally dry. Guess you're in tip-top shape if this ain't even making you winded,” Momo had said, quenching her thirst with a large sip of cool, refreshing water.   

With that, it was time to return to work for another four hours. We didn't really stop until after dusk.   

“I'm…so…tired… Ms. Momo…” Srassa dropped to her knees in the middle of the cornfield and rolled to her back, her clothes drenched with sweat. Her healthy, large chest heaved from her rapid, heavy breathing.   

“But it feels good, doesn't it?” replied Momo, laying beside her. She was just as tired, yet she had more control over her breathing. “You don't have to kill monsters to make the world a better place. Sometimes, it's enough to do something as simple as this to help make the world go round. Remember that if you're ever feeling doubtful.”  

“Is that why you had us do this, captain?” I asked, crouching beside them, staring at their cute faces. Those two were pretty but in the glimmer of the crescent moon’s bountiful light…  

“Uh-huh. Probably could've gone about it a better way–”  

“No, I'm…glad you did it like this… Ms. Momo, I've learned so much in just these few days alone…” Srassa extended an arm to the sky…  

“Feeling emotional, are we?” teased Momo. She grasped Srassa's hand and held it tight while looking at me.   

I joined in and clasped mine around Momo’s. She went on to say today was about bond-building. We worked towards the same goal while completing different tasks, but our jobs depended on what the others were doing. I couldn't feed the horses without Momo hauling the hay, and she couldn't plant the corn unless I transported the seeds.   

We were apart, yet we were together.   

I let go of their hands and helped them stand when Svelte came around with a horse attached to a wagon. He offered to give us a lift to Canary, and we took him up on it. The horse’s hooves steadily clopped against the dirt road, yet everything else was quiet as a mouse. Momo and Srassa were beside me, yet they fell asleep and leaned their weary heads against my shoulders.   

I just took their hands in mine and thought about what I really wanted to do. I couldn't stay here forever. I'd have to eventually leave. Itarr’s memories were out there somewhere. And she was a goddess, so the trials ahead of us were dangerous. It was likely no one except myself could overcome them since the fear of death didn't exist within me.   

But…that was then– a problem for the future. And this was the present. I could stand to spend more time with my friends… They knew about my lacking memories, but could I trust them with Itarr? Would they even believe it?  

I'd probably have to slit my throat, but I didn't want to scar them for life by watching me die. 

Well, that can come later. Let's just try to take this one day at a time and focus on what's in front of me. 

---

“Hey! Hey! Where’s my favorite cranky apothecary?” I said, walking into Cassidy's building, not expecting to find it full of broken, destitute patients.   

Saline was running wild, trying to talk to everyone to determine which injuries were the most severe.   

If I remember right, that’s called triage.  

"Saline?" 

Turning around, she gasped and looked thankful as I stacked my only healing spell. One by one, I went around and used it on everyone. Most of the wounds were minor enough to be taken care of, so Saline thanked them for their patience and saw them off, her sensitive ears filled with sincere thanks. Those remaining needed more direct assistance. 

Saline didn't have the training or knowledge to set a bone that pierced the skin, but for some reason, I did. She fetched me the bandages and supplies I needed while getting to work. Cassidy was in the middle of operating on someone with a stab wound. Apparently, there was a giant brawl in the slums after some pissed-off man with a club went berserk and attacked anyone he saw.   

“He was eventually killed, but…” Saline whispered. “But it happened too late. They think it's the monotonia withdrawal. The flames last night came from the dens. That's what Cassidy said. Do you think it's true?” 

Shit. So, I caused this? This is my fault? 

“...I don't know. Hey, this is going to hurt like a bitch. Saline, do we have any anesthesia?”  

“Anes…thesia? What's that? I'm sorry, but I don't think we do.”  

“Any pain reliever? Something to numb the area?” She shook her head and said Cassidy was using the rest of the pain reliever ointment she made with the herbs and stuff I brought back a few days ago. I looked at the young boy. His dirty face grunted, but those eyes seemed to say it was okay…  

He bit his teeth hard enough to chip them and strained against the invisible force binding him to the chair as I pushed the bone back into place. Usually, you would use screws or rods to set it, but we didn't have any. I could use nails lying in the dirt, but they weren't sterile. I told the boy this was the best I could do while sewing his arm. Saline understood what a sling and splint were and hastily made one while I moved on to the next patient.   

Amid the groaning and agonizing screams, we worked to take care of the rest and sent them on their way with orders to return the following day.   

Immediately, I rushed into the operating room through the curtains and saw…  

And I saw Cassidy sitting in the corner… She had a bottle in one hand and a cigarette in the other, her eyes as red as the blood leading to her from the operating table. There sat a young boy– couldn't have been older than four or five. His chest was cut open…  

There was a dagger impaled through his heart…  

If he was alive after the initial injury, it wasn't for long… Past the corpse was a woman's body, probably around fifteen or sixteen. Her neck was slit via the coarse, sharp rock resting in her lifeless hands.   

“He was already dead when she brought him to me…” slurred Cassidy, raising the bottle to her dried, gritty lips. “‘Do whatever you can to save my brother,’ she said. “‘I’ll sell my body to the Crimson Grotto to pay for it,’ she continued. But you can’t save that… No one can save that. You can’t bring back the dead after…after that…” The aged apothecary closed her eyes, screamed, and threw her bottle towards me. With nary any emotion, I let it slam into me. 

“HOW CAN YOU FUCKING LOOK LIKE THAT WHEN THIS IS YOUR FAULT?!?!?! THAT BASTARD WENT ON A RAMPAGE BECAUSE YOU CUT OFF HIS SUPPLY!!!!!”  

“...”  

“What? You don’t care? Not at all? Goddamit… GODDAMIT!!!!! SAY SOMETHING!!!!” Cassidy struggled to stand, her balance uneasy and unsteady. Saline suddenly burst into the room carrying Cue, and she gasped and screamed at the two corpses.   

“You know I didn’t intend for this to happen” That was all I managed to say before Cassidy drunkenly shouted at me. She told me to go away– that I was barred and forbidden from ever returning to her house. She stumbled over to the boy and gently held his still face, weeping tears...wetting those eyes that would never again sparkle with the light or joy of a laughing child.   

“S–Servi…” whispered Saline. Cue whimpered as the two followed me to the waiting room. “Umm… I– I… don’t…”  

“Then don’t. Don’t say anything at all.”  

“I’m sorry… Was she…telling the truth? Did you…?” I turned around and nodded, reciting how I destroyed the dens because they were heinous existences that shouldn’t exist.  

It was like the color drained from the world, which was already a messy, hueless pallet of depression, sin, and depravity within this lawless land. I did think the atmosphere was weird when I walked past the Crimson Grotto. The guards were numerous and many, but I thought it was a leftover remnant of their anxiousness from yesterday's events, not this.   

I went to leave. Saline reached a hand to my shoulder, causing me to look into her frightened, worrisome eyes. Her mouth stuttered, parting just barely enough to squeak an insignificant whimper. The tears that followed… I didn’t know what kind they were… My mind was a jumbled mess of problems and mistakes, so I left the shop and aimlessly wandered until I found my way to the site of my first death. There weren't many people– probably because of the incident, and those I saw were cranked out of their goddamn minds, unable to discern between reality and whatever their drug-infused minds showed them.   

That shitty little shed was still barely standing. The amount of trash and other undesirables around it seemed to have increased dramatically. The corpses of rats and other vermin were fresh, though, lying right out in the open on top of the piles of filth. The towering silver walls standing just behind were where…I first met Siora and Tim. Just looking...at it brought back memories that seemed so long ago, but less than a week had passed since then.   

But this?  

This would be my home. I didn’t know how long I was going to stay here. I didn’t even know if I was meeting up with Momo and Srassa when morning rolled around…  

I didn’t have...anything…on my mind…other than wanting to be busy…  

If I was occupied, it meant I didn’t have to think– not of the past...the future– because only the present counted.   

If I didn’t think about it, it didn’t happen. It didn’t exist. I didn’t have to…become the indirect perpetrator of a mass casualty incident.  

…  

I waded through the trash and entered the shed, finding dried proof of my first demise within the dark, dank, claustrophobic innards. The iron pipe I used was still lying there, so this place hadn’t been used since then.   

“It’s so rusty.” Forming a fist, I rubbed the gritty surface hard enough to draw blood, then watched as the injuries healed.  

That was all it took for the valves of my heart to explode. Like a stack of weakened bricks, I collapsed to my knees and vented my heart--screaming, crying, shouting, wailing. I formed two fists and repeatedly punched the ground, breaking bones and tearing ligaments in a self-destructive act that proved fruitless and useless because the damage wasn't permanent.