Chương 168: Chapter 164

Lyrian Orvil - third daughter of House Orvil, currently the unproud overseer of a mana mining operation carefully placed where no one would miss her if she died - was losing a fight with her own stomach again. That was always embarrassing. Managing nausea was something children learned before they could write, and a lady of her standing should have been unphased. Except this was the ordinary, honest, non-cursed version, and she wasn't even sure how to think it away. A moment ago everything had been fine.

A minor altercation with an odd little scout team - somewhat irritating, nothing she'd need to actually use her guards for. Humans were generally a crafty well-knit race, so seeing two here meant there were more lurking around. And then the human did something impossible, and a text box unfolded politely in the air beside her head to inform her she had been blessed with languages.

She'd had a heartbeat to wonder what in the void that was supposed to mean and then the human standing on empty air above them all had opened his mouth. And the blessing had done its terrible work, making absolutely certain she understood every word. On one hand, she now knew there was an entire new world. On the other hand, she now knew what the pony in the jar was. She would have that image stuck in her head until the day she died. Among other horrible things.

It was as if she'd paid an eldritch entity for knowledge, and the price had been knowledge. She coughed, swallowed, and dragged herself upright by sheer spite. Survive first. She could be horrified later. Very, very later. Preferably while dying peacefully of old age later. That kind of later. The four demons of her mining detail sat in a docile row where the humans had pointed. The skeleton stood next to the lead human, bouncing on the balls of its feet like an overly excited henchmen.

And the two humans stood squabbling in their own strange languag- Wait. She could still understand them.

"Of course we don't have zip ties." The first human sighed.

"It's, like, the single thing I didn't bring in my hoard here." Zip Ties. Plastic invention that were used to quickly hold things together, and considered extremely expendable. Plastic. Some kind of easily accessible material that could be heated and molded in any way and later hardens into shape. Lyrian blinked a few times over as the context quickly ran through her head.

"I bring just about every goddamn thing I can think of and the first time in this round that I actually need something, it's not something I brought! So how exac- ERI. NO." She looked up, and noticed the skeleton had started inching closer to her. It was leering, in a way that made it very clear it wanted her dead. She could just feel it. Hatred and contempt radiated out of its unhinged fixed smile, and if the human there hadn't ordered it to not attack, that thing would be trying to choke the life out of her.

She fell on her back and scrambled backwards for a half second before she froze in place, not wanting to draw more ire on herself. The skeleton gave a single annoyed jaw click, like a tut, then turned away from her. As if the fun had been ended too early.

"All right, looks like the high elf is back to his senses." The lead human said, looking between her and the wagon.

"Maybe we can try to use the ropes instead to keep them from doing something stupid? You think he's going to make another attempt?" He? They thought she was a man? Lyrian knew she wasn't exactly the standard of high elven beauty, and she tended to puke more often than others, so her throat might be more hoarse while she was giving it a break from healing, but she didn't sound that ba- Actually, no. This was excellent. She could easily use that to keep herself from puking.

By Andrian, it wasn't even a half-lie, she was rather miffed about it and if she stewed on it a little more… These apes were such tremendous idiots, they couldn't even recognize they were addressing a distinguished lady like herself. And the horrors that man had shown her, absolutely uncouth. She wasn't going to forgive him for that. Her stomach fully settled, and she turned her attention back at them.

"I have the good sense to not make any further attempts, thank you very much." Lyrian cooly said.

"Believe me monk-" She stopped.

"Believe me, sir humans, I am quite aware of my current situation."

"Oh. That's normally a paid service, sorry. Not sorry. You did try to rob me of my loot, so." The human held his hand out and snapped his fingers. A textbox appeared in her sight. Market's Blessing (Languages) has been removed. Lyrian stayed very still. Then tried to say a word in that strange language. She still remembered the concepts and ideas she'd learned. Even what zip ties and plastic were, the latest two to the collection. But the words felt alien again.

Which meant magic that had somehow touched on her mind, and removed itself after. One large issue with that: There was no known rune that mapped to mind. If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. Mind magic was a free magic only thing. And a horribly expensive thing at that. High Elves, naturally, had done the most testing and experimentation on exactly that kind of domain.

The conclusion remained the same as it had generation after generation: Only the Old Pantheon could do things like that. This human had reached into Lyrian's head twice and done it with basically a casual flick of his hand. She had seen their world in micro-glimpses of context. Cities of glass reaching to the skies, digital seas where humans shared their thoughts (and inner darkness), but more importantly: More humans than Azdrial had ever held.

They were currently squabbling with each other, and more voices were coming from a small box on the lead human's chestplate. She decided she should try to get herself involved in all this, because it was very likely about her survival.

"Gentlemen." She said in High Elven, figuring they would understand.

"I appear to find myself at your mercy, as you seem to hold the advantage. What are your terms of surrender?" She could unwrap them being from another world after she secured her survival. The lead human answered.

"Release the four demons from your contract. We can start there." Her four Deathguards shared looks with one another, confusion along with a slight amount of fear. She gave them an all clear signal. These humans must not know much about the world yet.

"They are contracted to the warlocks of Merced and merely ordered to obey me. On loan, in effect. I cannot simply order them free." Even if she could, she probably couldn't anyhow because they were her only insurance. If she died, they were honorbound to kill the pair here as the aggressors. Did they think she was stupid? Oh, that's a great one. She hold onto that to stew on.

"Figures it wouldn't be easy." The lead human sighed.

"Welp, there goes my easy crewmates quest." Easy crewmates quest? He was searching for allies then? Excellent. This might be salvageable after all. She coughed for attention, "While I cannot assist you with these slaves, I can be of considerably more use as a liaison to Merced. And it would be in my great interest to be the one introducing you, given you come from..." She couldn't say 'Another world' out loud, her four deathguards would overhear.

And later on, they might be compelled into giving that information out.

"You come from Earth." She said instead, using the strange language wording for 'Earth' The four demons next to her turned their heads with quiet curiosity, but she glared at them instead. She was trying to keep them all alive here. Bile threatened to rise up in her throat once more, and she tampered it down with ruthless pragmatism. Yes she was in mortal danger, but there was potential trade and advantage here, and she was still a high elf after all.

Trade with expensive wine was basically all they had going for them. These four should be thankful she was trying her hardest. Her stomach returned to normal with that thought. The two humans shared a look with one another in the meantime, debating. A voice came straight from the voice box, growling and upset. Also gave one snort, which sounded exactly like a minotaur or a satyr. There was some discussion going on in that otherworld language. Bad idea to let them continue talking unless she absolutely had to.

"If you both are discussing the fate of my life, I would appreciate the chance to argue for myself or know what I am being accused of. Also an introduction would be appreciated." The main human turned back, then jabbed a thumb at himself.

"I'm Wade, that's Leon, and the skeleton is Eri. That'll be all you get for now. And you are?" Here was her chance. She puffed herself up as much as she could.

"I am Lyrian Orvil, third child of House Orvil, petty wine merchant associate and authorized trade partner." Technically true, although she wasn't even certain she could get a single paper signed off for wine trading now. There's a reason she was down here in the mines instead of anywhere civilized. And normally she'd introduce herself as a daughter, but it was very easy to be annoyed at them for the mistake and she didn't want to let go of that until she absolutely had to.

"He's a high elf." The gravely voice said in understandable elvish.

"You can't trust their kind. He's holding information back already. The question is how much." That voice… would be a problem.

"I can be trusted to do the best for myself." She said, which was correct.

"And the best for my situation is to be of assistance to you for long term trade. You are, somehow, from Earth. I would be a fool to attempt to sour future relations with you two." And at that, her argument was an understatement if anything. In fact, she dove into that thought for protection. They would be stupid to not understand that simple fact. They must be. Her stomach happily settled at the comforting thought.

"Why are high elves considered untrustworthy? Are they really all racist, every one of them?" The one named Wade asked.

"They hate everyone equally champ." Another voice on the box answered back.

"No seriously, it's like, taught to them from childhood." She cleared her throat with a cough, then glared up at the apes with indignation.

"The alternative would be constant nausea. Of course we choose to dislike everyone." That much should have been obvious. And then she realized it likely wasn't because these humans weren't from Azdrial. They were probably extremely confused and likely actually feeling belitt- She nearly dry heaved for a second, but got it back under control without letting it show on her face: They're from another world, they didn't know about High Elves, and she tried real hard not to think about it from their point of view.

That didn't quite work, the nausea remained. They were apes and should have already figured that out by now. Her stomach somewhat settled, although grudgingly. Leon's earlier attempt to provoke her nausea did make more sense. He'd been ignorant of how that was the ultimate faux-pa's to any high elf. So he hadn't been trying to make her puke by dumping his life story, he'd just bee- Her stomach lurched again and this time she didn't manage to hide it well. No. He'd been rude and disgusting.

Like only an ape could be. Rude, disgusting, ignorant, stupid apes. She shut her eyes and really tried to believe it. Her stomach settled. Somewhat.

"He looks like he's going to puke." Wade said, "What's going on? Why's he dry heaving again?"

"That's like, actually a really good sign for High Elves. No seriously." A woman's voice came from the box.

"What the fuck is going on?" Wade asked. Leon looked equally as confused, glancing back to her. Lyrian was absurdly happy at the tiny ember of anger those words opened up, and she reached for it like a drowning rat. The absolute gall of them to be surprised they were making her puke. In a flash, she felt completely fine again. Anger was basically the easiest emotion to hide behind, it always worked.

"We High Elves are descendants of the Sun Elves." She started, clearing her throat.

"Our ancestors, unfortunately, lost the divine war. And their punishment was a racial curse. One which continues to this day. One that would see to our people isolated from the other lesser races and-""Stop-stop, he's gonna bore you to literal death." That other male voice came out of the box.

"Lemme pass on the quick sparks notes version right here: They're cursed to be assholes. Them, their kids, their kid's kid's and so forth down the line for all time. If this guy feel the warm fuzzies for anybody else that's not himself - pop goes the weasel! Except, not weasel, but - well, you're both smart kiddos, I'm sure I'm painting the picture here, right gang? They can't be nice to anyone. Even thinking about being nice gets them hurling. That's why goat-boy's telling you not to trust him."

"Highly crass and unbecoming manner of explaining it." Lyrian scoffed.

"Is it true though?" Wade asked.

"It is a... simplified way to explain it, I suppose."

"You know, it's a little hard to work with someone who actively chooses to hate my guts." She puffed back up.

"Nonsense. I do not require fondness for you to work correctly together. Measured disdain and professional boundaries is all that is needed for dealings with my people. You do not need to approve of myself either, so long as our work together benefits us both, there can be mutual trust. I'd prefer that arrangement. Being appreciated proves just as nauseating." The human blinked slowly.

"You really are cursed to be an asshole?" Lyrian wanted to reach up and strangle the human, shake him back and forth and scream in his face that yes, this was their nature, and yes it was exactly as unpleasant as it sounded. She kept decorum however.

"Please continue to be stupid, it makes all of this far easier on my stomach."