《Malt the Manslayer》28 - That's Kinda Freaky
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Nasir was a regal looking man, there was an air about him that set him apart from the rest of the village. His silver hair slicked back, better exposing his sharp eyes that no doubt had witnessed many sights during his day.
Even as he took a seat on a small rocker on the porch, he still clutched the handle of his wooden cane with both hands. Anna made her way inside the cottage, returning with a kettle and some cups.
He beckoned to Malt and Niko,
“Don’t just stand there now, have a seat.”
Niko dropped onto his behind, crossing his legs and resting both hands on his knees. A little bewildered, Malt did the same. It seemed like having a seat like this, even shortly after meeting someone, was acceptable in their culture.
He gestured to Anna, who was busy preparing some sort of beverage on a small table.
“I assume you’ve already been acquainted with my granddaughter, yes?”
Malt nodded, “We had a little chat in the garden.”
“I see, ” He turned to Niko, who had a bead of cold sweat rolling down the side of his face.
“And you as well, did you have a nice chat with her?”
“Y-yes sir!”
He chuckled, amused by the boy’s antics.
“I’ve known the kid since he was a little brat, and he still goes and calls me sir like that.”
Anna passed little wooden cups to everyone and filled them with hot green beverage. Malt brought the cup to his lips, taking a small sip of the fragrant drink.
Although bitter at first, the drink was pleasant and went down smoothly, easing his mind and muscles.
“Herbal tea?”
He nodded, “We’re big on these kinds of drinks here.”
After a few moments of silent sipping, Nasir placed his cup onto the table.
“Alright, let’s get down to business.”
He turned to Niko,
“Why don’t you go and have a chat with Anna in the garden?”
“Huh? But I uh-”
Anna stood up and made her way to the garden, gesturing for him to do the same.
Niko, still visibly nervous, hastily pushed himself to his feet.
“...sure uh, okay.” He hesitantly made his way to her as she led him to the other side of the garden, well out of eavesdropping distance.
The moment they left, Nasir’s eyes sharpened, as if he were analyzing every part of him.
“North or South.”
“Huh?”
Taken off guard by the seemingly nonsensical question, he placed his cup down onto the floor.
“You heard what I said, North or South?”
“...I don’t really understand what the question is…”
The man crossed his legs and leaned back onto the rocker, fully taking advantage of it’s armrests.
“You see, we’re quite a solitary bunch. We don’t like venturing far outside this forest, we leave the exploring and trading to our scouting parties. And even they don’t like going west much.”
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He brought his cane up to his lap, nonchilantly examining it’s skillfully carved handle.
“But every time they do, they always meet the same bunch of people, people of the unsavory sort. Soldiers, mostly.”
Malt’s shoulders tensed, he could see where the conversation was heading.
Obviously catching this subtle reaction, but deciding to ignore it, he continued.
“Seems like they have a conflict going on, not that we care much about the squabbles of outsiders.”
He made eye contact with Malt once again, this time with a gaze that made even Malt uneasy. He kept his composure, but he could feel his heartbeat growing rapid against his will. The last time he’d met a gaze so intense was when he was still training under Geld.
“But you see, there’s a little problem. I assume you’ve pieced it together from what those around you have said, yes?”
Malt’s knuckles turned white, “Deserters.”
“Yes exactly, and some of those deserters have somehow made it to the forests around this village. At first, it was foodstuffs going missing in the night. Then clothing. Then medicine, then tools, livestock, and most recently, ”
“People.”
He nodded, “And do you know what all those deserters had been wearing?”
He gulped, remembering what he’d been wearing when he bursted into the village.
“Gambeson.”
He smiled, although his eyes didn’t change.
“Good, you catch on quickly. So let me ask me one more time.”
He leaned forward, both hands resting on his cane.
“North, or South?”
His mind raced, trying to figure out one, whether he should tell the truth or not, but more importantly two, which answer would get him in the least trouble.
In the end, having nothing to go on, he decided to just spill the truth.
“North. I fought for Astoundria.”
The man leaned back again, not giving him any pointers to whether he answered correctly or not.
“Astoundria huh? Interesting. What are your thoughts on demons then?”
“Huh? Uhm, from what people have told me they seem pretty bad. But honestly I’ve never met one so I can’t really say anything about them.”
He raised his eyebrows, seemingly a positive response to his answer.
“How about non-human races then. Any thoughts on them? You think they’re evil right?”
He furrowed his brows, puzzled by the assumption.
“Why would I? I haven’t met one yet.”
He raised one brow, “So you don’t feel anything toward them?”
He thought back to his interests back on earth, how he was so excited to meet a demi-human when he’d just arrived in this world.
“...I haven’t really thought of them much lately, but I’m...how do I say this, interested in them maybe?”
Nasir went completely silent.
After a few moments, alarms started going off inside of Malt’s head. Had he said something that went against the village’s ideals?
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Suddenly, he bursted into a chuckle. His face softened and he resetted back into his casual posture. It was as if the intimidating man he’d faced just moments before had never existed in the first place.
“Interested huh? What a strange kid you are!”
Malt was a little bewildered by the sudden change, but he still let out a sigh of relief nonetheless.
After his laughter died down, he brought his cane onto his lap once again.
“Sorry for the scare lad, I just needed to be sure of a couple things.”
“Nah I get it, you’ve got a village to protect and all.”
“Surprisingly understanding for your age huh? Well I suppose you’ve had plenty of time to mature in the military.”
He picked up his cup once again and took a long sip. Malt followed suit, soothing his dry throat.
He placed the cup down once again.
“Alright I’ve asked my questions, your turn. I’m sure you’ve got tons of them, right? Let’s hear it.”
He leaned over to pour himself more tea.
“What are you guys?”
“Straight to the point huh?”
After taking a moment to place the kettle back onto its tray, he pointed to Malt with the end of his cane, bringing the cup to his lips with his other hand.
“Ever heard of the Beista?”
“...no, I don’t think so at least.”
“It’s a bit of a derogatory term, but that’s what most humans like to call us.”
“Humans?”
“Yeah, humans. They call us Beista. Beasts. Or beastkin, depends on who you talk to.”
He locked eyes with the elder, trying to figure out if he was being played for a fool.
“...you’re shitting me right?”
“No one’s shitting you, lad.”
He took another sip, “You actually didn’t know? Even though you travelled with Misha for all that time? And saw Niko’s abnormal strength?”
“How would I have come to that conclusion? I thought you guys were using magic or something.”
“How would a girl as small as Misha know magic?”
“...”
Not wanting to flaunt his lack of knowledge on the world and its logic, he changed the subject.
“I can kind of see Niko and Misha being beastkin, ” he thought back to his travels with Misha, only now realizing some little quirks that fit his explanation.
That peculiar way of running and certain mannerisms now made sense. Her method of knowing her way to the village also made sense as well, assuming that beastkin had a better sense of smell than humans did.
“But how about Anna? She doesn’t seem like one. None of the people here have any tails or ears or anything. Or anything that makes them look like beastkin really.”
“That whole idea about beastkin looking like humans with ears of tails goes back all the way to the time we lived in human cities. Beastkin naturally only take the form of humans or animals, you see.”
He closed his eyes, as if he was recalling a time of the far past.
“We had to learn how to do a ‘partial transformation.’ Basically having to force our bodies to only manifest tails or ears.”
“That doesn’t sound...optimal.”
“It’s about as uncomfortable as it sounds, but they made us do it so people could differentiate between humans and non-humans.”
“Isn’t that symbolization?”
He raised his brows, moderately surprised by his usage of the word.
“I’m surprised you know an old term like that. But yes, it was. It was law though, so everyone had to learn it.”
“Even you?”
The man raised his cane a little into the air. After a couple seconds a pair of ears, matching his grey hair and resembling that of a canine’s appeared on the top of his head.
Malt’s face morphed into genuine surprise.
“Wow! That’s….kind of freaky.”
He chuckled, “At least you’re honest. This isn’t actually transformation, it’s illusion magic. Takes a bit of mana, but it's loads less uncomfortable than transforming.”
His mind was still processing with all the information that he was receiving. The culture shock was immense, he was being bombarded with concepts and history that he’d never encountered before, and each answer only spawned exponentially more questions.
“Then how about-”
He raised his cane, standing up from his rocker.
“Alright, I’ve got something to do now so if you’ll excuse me.”
“Huh? Wait I still have more-”
“We’ll be here for days if I let you keep asking.”
He began making his way to the gate.
“I’m a big proponent of experiencing to learn, you see. No matter how much I explain these things to you, you won’t really grasp it unless you experience it yourself. So go and get yourself acquainted with the community. You’ll learn little by little along the way.”
Malt scrambled to his feet and called out to him.
“Wait! Just one last question.”
He sighed, turning around.
“I suppose a short one is fine. What is it then?”
“What’s the name of this village.”
He looked at him perplexed, as if the answer was obvious.
“Most people born here don’t go anywhere else, so there’s really only one thing we call it.”
“And that is?”
He opened the gate, strolling outside.
“Home.”
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