FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

            Blue Valley Underground - Part 5 - Acres

There was vague awareness of buzzing far off in the distance. A long bout of dark confusion. Then the buzzing turned into chirping crickets. It was a peaceful, safe sound. But Isaac did not feel peaceful or safe. He opened his eyes to complete darkness and for a moment, thought he'd gone blind. No, he was outside. It was night. He tried to sit up and faltered, groaning at the sharp pain on his torso. Reaching to it, he felt the raised, scabbed-over wounds where the vines had been. They extending from his neck all the way to his naval.

            Isaac was suddenly aware of the chill in the air. Why? It was summer. Rivermere never got cold at night; not this time of year. Then he realized his clothes--everything from his boots to his ID necklace--were gone. Frantically searching the ground around him, he couldn't find his armor, sword, shield...Nothing but damp moss. He squinted in the inky blackness and saw only the vague shapes of tree trunks. He couldn't hear the river.

"No..." Isaac muttered and scrambled around until he felt rough bark against his back, "God, please...No..."

            The tree behind him was enormous. He felt its roots rising from the ground, huge and solid and oddly a bit comforting. Isaac curled up between them, hiding in a mossy space just big enough for his body. It was as if the tree was embracing him, the only thing telling him it was okay as he quivered and muttered to himself,

"No, no, no, no..."

He gagged as his stomach panicked but never vomited, as it was empty anyway. Growling, acidic. So angry with him now, he thought, because he'd really done it this time. Potentially the worst mistake he ever made, if he only could see the area around him.

            Maybe he wasn't all that far from the tower. Maybe it wasn't so bad. He saw the moon through the treetops and guessed it was somewhere around 1AM-3AM. He wondered if the other soldiers were looking for him and if Evan would send him back to the barracks this time, or even kick him out of the military. Isaac buried his face in his arm. Tears leaked from his eyes but he didn't make a sound, partially out of fear for what may be lurking in these woods.

A light breeze passed through and made him shiver. The tree's leaves whispered softly to him and told him he was going to be safe; or at least that's the way he desperately chose to interpret it. Isaac hadn't felt this alone since he was an orphan. Worse than dying was becoming a lost body, his soul wandering Gaia for eternity because no one cared enough to bury his remains properly. Chaplain Kohl instilled that fear in him as a child, and it was his greatest fear to this day.

            For a long, long time Isaac hid in the massive roots. They kept him relatively warm in the foreign chill until it was just light enough to see his surroundings. He peered up at the navy blue sky, still speckled with faint stars and fading to yellow on the horizon. Cautiously, he crept out of the safety of the roots and listened for danger. Nothing but the occasional chirp of an early bird. He didn't recognize this area, not at all. There was no water nearby and even some of the plants looked alien to him. The air felt colder, drier, lighter. Isaac had never felt anything but the oppressive humidity of Rivermere. He entertained the notion that he'd died and was now a ghost, but only for a second. It was important that he stay calm, he reminded himself, even as his stomach bubbled and his hands shook.

            Now in the dim light he could see a trail leading...Somewhere. Away from here, at least. It was narrow enough for one person and looked fresh, marked only by broken branches and smashed grass. It seemed like the most obvious option, so Isaac followed it. He covered his crotch with his hands, not for modesty but to protect it from the thorns and sticks scraping at him as he pushed through the tiny passage. He looked down at the blotch on his chest. It looked like a nasty rash, with curling red lines where he'd torn the vines out from under his skin. They were thankfully shallow. The rash was at its worst in the middle of his left pectoral, spreading down to his naval and up to his neck. The edges split off into tiny, curling tendrils that almost looked like a deliberate design. It did itch, but scratching it wasn't worth the pain.

            Isaac inched his way down the trail for maybe an hour, until he came to a "T". The new road was very wide and probably quite old, judging by the hard, packed dirt. Isaac found himself literally at a crossroads and stood there for a couple minutes simply deciding which way to go. Did it even matter? He had no idea where he was anyway. He could be days from the nearest human for all he knew. Ultimately he decided to take the west road, facing away from the rising sun. His shadow walked ahead of him, tall and mighty, like his strange opposite twin. He was so very hungry, legs weak, carrying himself forward on nothing but willpower. Spotting brown mushrooms growing under a fern, he dropped to his knees and shoved them into his mouth. They were the same kind Dolly ate with him.

            The chill in the air started to disappear over the next hour as the sun ascended higher in the sky. Isaac continued on sore, bleeding feet; enjoying the warmth on his skin and hating everything else. In all this time, he hadn't seen a single person on the road. Thankfully, no animals or monsters either. But it was still early in the morning. Maybe as time went on the road would get busier. This path looked like it was used by carriages, if the faint tracks were any indication.

            Speaking of...

Isaac stopped and listened closely. Somewhere ahead--far ahead--was the quiet clip-clopping of horses echoing down the road. Ignoring the state of his aching feet, Isaac broke out into a sprint. He also ignored the fact that he was a filthy, bloody, naked man running down a barren road in the wee hours of the morning. All he thought about was seeing another face, hitching a ride and going home.

            The sound was getting louder, clearer. The horses were definitely pulling something heavy and creaky. Running at full speed, Isaac turned the blind corner and immediately staggered back as two grey horses reared up, nearly kicking him in the face. He stumbled a few feet and fell on his ass near the edge of the road.

"Woah!" the wagon driver exclaimed and pulled the reins. The wagon halted and the horses settled. He was an old man with a pot-belly and a dark gray moustache, wearing a straw hat and dirty overalls. He looked at Isaac, who stared back with eyes as big as saucers.

            "Please!" Isaac suddenly blurted and staggered to his feet. He stumbled to the wagon and nearly tripped, catching the edge of the driver's seat for support, "Please help me!"

The old man quickly raised a rusty old hammer above his head, threatening Isaac with it. Isaac slowly let go of the wagon and took a step back,

"I won't hurt you," he explained breathlessly, "I need help!"

The old man eyeballed him suspiciously,

"You had anything to drink this mornin', Boy?"

            "I'm not drunk!" suddenly aware of his nakedness, Isaac covered himself. He calmed his voice and tried to appear somewhat sane, "I...I don't know where I am. I was...I think I was poisoned or something. I woke up here in the woods. Please, please help me."

There was a staredown between them. Then, the old man slowly lowered the hammer,

"There's no bandits waitin' in the woods, is there?" he asked, only half-serious. Isaac shook his head,

"No, Sir! This isn't a trick, I promise! I'm actually a soldier--" he reached for his I.D. necklace and remembered it was gone, "I'm just...Out of uniform right now."

Patting the seat beside him, the driver said,

"Alright, Son. Hop on in."

            Isaac thanked him repeatedly and climbed in the passenger seat. The back of the wagon was full of square hay bales. The driver whipped the reins and the horses began moving.

"Logan Stillwater." He introduced himself and extended a hand. Isaac shook it,

"Isaac of Rivermere."

"Well, Isaac," Logan looked amused, "You look like you've had a heck of a night."

Isaac let out a long sigh,

"I sure have..."

"Where do you need to be?"

"Rivermere, Sir."

"Rivermere?" Logan's eyebrows shot up, "What are you doin' way out here?"

            Worry crossed Isaac's face,

"I, uh...Where am I, exactly?"

"Just a few miles north of Newell."

"Newell? W-where's that?" Isaac wasn't familiar with much outside his town and the settlements around it.

"Oh boy..." Logan chuckled softly, then opened the trunk behind him. He fished out a pair of overalls and tossed them to Isaac,

"How 'bout I just take you back to the farm for now. The wife can clean you up and we'll get some food in you."

Isaac had a million questions buzzing in his head, but for the sake of his sanity he just replied,

"Thank you, Sir." And pulled on the overalls. They almost fit; a bit too loose.

            "Call me Logan. You ain't in uniform now, Soldier." The man smiled, "So, you say you were, eh...Poisoned?"

Isaac answered unsurely,

"Yeah, I think. By a girl with...Well, she...I don't know what she was." He shook his head slightly, "She had kinda red skin and pink hair, and there were flowers in it. She...The flowers, I mean, they sprayed this dust everywhere and I passed out. I was just outside Rivermere last night and I woke up here."

A sly smile crept across Logan's face. He started laughing, and Isaac couldn't imagine why. Then the old man glanced at him and said,

"You were out playin' with nymphs, were you?"

Isaac cocked his head,

"Nymphs?"

            "The nubile maidens of the forest, they say," Logan smirked, "Only one reason a man gets that close to 'em..."

Isaac was silent, then understood and quickly explained,

"Oh--no, no! It wasn't like that! I wasn't trying to--I mean...She kissed me, and that's it. Then she poisoned me and laughed!"

"Sure, sure..."

"It's true! Then she stole all my clothes and...And she did this to me!" Isaac gestured to the giant rash on his torso. Logan raised his eyebrows and nodded,

"Huh, look at that. I believe it, Son. Plenty'a tales of fellas gettin' tricked by nymphs. They're cruel little she-devils, they are."

Isaac sighed and dragged a dirty palm over his face, leaving a faint smear of dirt,

"I'm such an idiot. The marshal's gonna kill me..."

"I think he'll just be happy to see you alive. Looks like that girl roughed you up somethin' bad."

"No. He'll just yell at me for being in the woods alone." Isaac shook his head, "He was right. I don't listen..."

            Logan looked him over for a moment, then said,

"He can't be too sore with you--you're just a boy! Are you even old enough to be in the military?"

Isaac furrowed his brow. He was always given so much grief at the barracks for his age and his big eyes and his stupid baby-face...He couldn't grow a proper beard and figured sideburns were close enough. Even they didn't come in very thick.

"I'm nineteen, Sir." He grumbled.

"Logan."

"Right. Sorry..."

Logan chuckled,

"Don't worry about all that mess for now. I got two sons at home about your age. They're gonna be happy to meet you! The wife schools 'em at home, see, so they don't get to see other boys too often." He shrugged, "It's a shame, but...Well, I'm not too keen on the way they're teachin' in the kingdom's schools these days."

Isaac just nodded with nothing to say. As if he knew anything about school...

            The wagon rolled down the long, winding forest trail, which eventually led to an open plain. The pleasant beams of sun were now too hot with no trees to absorb them. A couple hours into the trip, Isaac wiped the sweat off his brow with his equally sweaty arm and was well-aware that he smelled and looked terrible. He saw a farm in the distance: a vast plot of gently rolling land divided by fences and crops. Cows dotted the fields. A quaint blue house sat on the front of the property.

            An overweight brown dog with pointed ears chased the wagon as it pulled into the dusty driveway.

"Hey--git! You tryin' to get run over?" Logan shouted at it. The dog just barked and jumped around the wheels. The wagon stopped. Logan and Isaac climbed out and Isaac was immediately tackled by the dog. It was so massive, it pushed its paws against his chest and pinned him to the side of the wagon, standing just a few inches short of Isaac's six-foot height.

"Oh! Hi there!" The soldier laughed as the animal hyperactively licked his face.

            "Grizzly! Get off!" Logan made a futile attempt to pull the two hundred-pound beast away, then shouted,

"Jacob! Nolan! Y'all come over here and get your mongrel, quick!"

Isaac just smiled and scratched Grizzly's shaggy neck, his voice creaking as she crushed his chest,

"You're...A big one...!"

"This here's a Kandul hound," explained Logan, patting her head, "Wasn't my choice, but the boys just wouldn't leave the market without that puppy...Fit in my hand then, she did."

Suddenly two young men came running out of the house. They rushed to Isaac and used both their efforts to drag the giant dog away and restrain her.

"Sorry!" one of them apologized to Isaac.

Logan pointed to a dilapidated barn and told them,

"I told you boys I wanted her locked up when I got back! You got corn in your ears or what?"

"Sorry, Dad..."

"Sorry..."

            One boy grabbed Grizzly's head while the other pushed her from behind, forcing her towards the barn. Logan shook his head and put a hand on Isaac's shoulder, leading him to the house,

"I'll introduce you properly when they get back. They look like their daddy, but they got the old lady's fogginess, I tell you..."

Once inside the house, Logan hollered,

"Maggie! Eileen! We got a guest!"

Isaac looked around the interior. It was decorated so differently from the rustic style of the houses in Rivermere. On the walls, the wood was covered by floral-print paper and the animal heads were replaced by framed paintings. Glass knick-knacks covered every surface and the couches were made of stuffed fabric, not bare stone or wood.

            A short, thin woman around Logan's age came out of the hallway. Her fair skin was peppered with freckles and her curly, graying blonde hair was pulled back in a silver clip. She was drying her hands on a rag, then stuffed it in her apron pocket. Her deer-like eyes grew even wider when she saw Isaac. She looked somewhere between disgusted and fearful.

"Isaac, this is the wife, Maggie." Said Logan, "Maggie, Isaac's a soldier serving our good queen. He's hurt and a long way from home, so he'll be stayin' until he's well again."

Isaac felt like a stray animal, standing in that pristine room covered in dirt and blood, wearing nothing but ill-fitting overalls,

"Nice to meet you, Ma'am." He said meekly.

            Maggie didn't speak for a long moment, looking between her husband and Isaac. Isaac heard footsteps and looked up, seeing a heavy young woman standing at the top of the stairs. She peeked down at him and waved her fingers.

"He's absolutely filthy!" Maggie finally said. She reached for Isaac, then changed her mind and pulled the rag from her pocket. She wrapped it around her hand like a glove and then took him by the arm.

"You poor thing, what happened to you?" she fretted as she led him down the hall.

"The enemy got me, Ma'am." He half-lied.

"Good Lord..." Maggie stopped at the end of the hall and opened a closet, plucking out a towel and a rag before opening another door to the side.

            Practically shoving Isaac in the bathroom, Maggie set the towel on the counter and tossed the rag in the tub. She began searching through a cabinet above the sink until she found a brown bottle and a box of bandages.

"You can clean up and see to your wounds in here," she told him, "I'll fetch you some clothes in a while."

She then made a swift exit and closed the door behind her. Isaac was simply amazed by--of all things--this bathroom. It wasn't a filthy room with a bucket on the floor like at the orphanage, and it didn't have stalls like at the barracks. The walls and floor were clean white tiles, with shiny fixtures and an actual bath tub instead of just a shower head on the wall. There was no shower at all.

            Isaac slipped out of the overalls and caught a look at himself in the mirror. He had a twig stuck in his hair. It even had a leaf on it. He wondered how long he'd been wearing that humiliating little accessory, then started running a bath. The water came out cold, though not intolerably so. He let the bulk of his filth wash down the drain first, watching a long trail of dirt and blood swirl away. When the water finally ran clear, he filled the tub and soaked his aching muscles. His body was covered in large purple bruises, possibly from the cecaelia attack, possibly from whatever the nymph did to him after he blacked out. Beat him with a club, by the feel of it.

            Suddenly the door opened and Isaac jumped, bringing his knees to his chest. Maggie set a stack of clothing on the counter and stepped back out in a second.

"Those are Nolan's. They ought to fit you just fine!" she told him from outside the door.

"Uh...Thank you!" Isaac replied, then slowly settled back in the water. Now he couldn't relax at all. Not with strange old ladies bursting in whenever they pleased.

            Isaac dressed in Nolan's clothes and they fit him well indeed: a green plaid shirt with short sleeves and some worn denim pants. His wounds could only be cleaned with alcohol and covered with gauze. When he walked into the kitchen, he at least felt presentable. Maggie was seasoning a monstrous raw slab of meat when she turned to Isaac and grinned,

"So there was a boy under that filth the whole time!"

"I thought you were my brother for a second!" giggled the woman from the stairs, who was now sweeping the floor, "You're wearing his clothes."

"Eileen, Dear," Maggie turned to her, "go get an extra chair for Isaac, please."

It was as if Eileen didn't hear her mother, smiling at the soldier as she told him,

"Except my brother is ugly and you're real handsome!"

A big grin crossed Isaac's face and he blushed,

"Heh, uh..."

"Eileen!" Maggie barked and got her attention, no longer looking so amiable, "Don't make me shout. Now go get a chair for him right now."

            "'Kay, Momma." Eileen set the broom aside and playfully pinched Isaac's arm, snickering as she ran upstairs. Isaac watched her go, smiling as he rubbed his arm,

"She's nice."

Maggie sighed,

"Don't mind her, Sweetie. That girl's twenty-four years old but you'd swear she was still a child..."

Isaac was flattered for a moment, but Maggie's reaction was all wrong. Then he realized Eileen was making fun of him. 'Handsome'--not a chance. Men like Evan were handsome, with their muscles and square jaws, proper beards and intense pale eyes. Not Isaac. Not his childish face full of crowded teeth and giant eyes the color of mud. Suddenly he felt like a fool and awkwardly left the room, making his way outside.

            No one was in the front yard, so the soldier went behind the house towards the farm. He noticed people in the distance working the fields. There were maybe ten of them. Isaac squinted; they were far away and difficult to see, but he didn't think they were human. Too short, body proportions a bit off...It was hard to see their faces under their large straw hats. He noticed one of Logan's sons carrying a bale of hay to a stable and headed that way. The two wagon-horses were penned up now.

            Isaac found Logan and the other son in the stable as well. The shorter of the sons--Jacob, apparently--was nailing a horseshoe to a hoof while his father guided him. The taller son tossed the hay inside the horse's stall.

"Hello, Isaac." Logan greeted and straightening his hat, "Well now, you clean up good!"

"Are you really a soldier?" Jacob asked quickly, still holding a hoof in his hand. He had shaggy brown hair, curly like his mother's. Isaac nodded,

"Yes, I am."

"You ever kill anyone? How many people?" the boy barely finished his question before Logan scolded him,

"Jacob! Good Lord, Boy, mind yourself..."

Isaac answered him anyway,

"No, I...I haven't."

"Oh..." Jacob looked a bit disappointed. He was a scrawny kid, likely a few years younger than Isaac.

            "What kind of weapon do you carry?" asked a voice from behind. Isaac turned and saw Nolan, who looked closer to his age. He was lean like Isaac, thicker than his brother. His face was covered in acne scars and light brown hair was cut close to his flat head. Eileen was right; he was kind of ugly, Isaac thought shamefully.

"Sword and shield," replied the soldier, "I'm just an apprentice though."

"Do you ride a horse?"

"No."

"Do you even know how?"

"No..."

"You two quit botherin' him. Poor fella just got here." Logan interjected. He talked over a nail in his mouth while he hammered another to the horse's hoof, "I'll finish up here if you go put the wagon in the shed."

            The brothers left the stable and started pushing the wagon away. Isaac looked back out to the field where the far-away figures worked.

"Who are they?" he pointed. Logan glanced up briefly and took the nail out of his mouth,

"They're our goblins, Son."

"They work for you?"

"Sure do. Got, uh...twelve of 'em now. Hard-workin' folks, they are."

Isaac paused, then cautiously asked,

"They're...Slaves, right?"

"Yep. Been with Maggie's family for generations." He pointed to the barn, "They got a nice life with us. Live in the barn over there 'n eat whatever we don't sell. We don't hit 'em or whip 'em, nothin' like that..." he shook his head, "I've seen farmers get real cruel with their slaves. No need for that."

            It was miserably hot and stuffy in this stable. Isaac brushed a fly off his face,

"Are they having dinner with us tonight?"

"No, no," Logan chuckled and let go of the horse's leg, "We don't let 'em in the house, see. Sometimes they get lazy and we gotta have a word with 'em..." He shrugged, "But they keep to themselves out there, mostly."

"I was just on a border guard mission," these words spilled out of Isaac's mouth and he couldn't stop them, "We were catching immigrants and sending them to a slave yard."

Logan raised a bushy eyebrow,

"Were you?"

"Yeah," Isaac didn't know why he was still speaking. He knew he shouldn't be talking about this, "It was...It was really awful. They can't be happy this way."

            "I can't imagine what you saw there at the border," replied Logan, "But you know, Isaac...God made all races different. You wouldn't say a goblin and a human are the same, would you?"

"Not exactly..."

The old man nodded,

"Well, I reckon He made us different for a reason. We humans are masters, see." he pointed to himself, then outside, "And the goblins, they're workers. You know the saying: 'Own the name, own the goblin'?"

Isaac shook his head. Logan explained,

"If you say a goblin's full name, they have to obey you. Now if the Almighty didn't intend them to serve, He wouldn't have made them that way. Makes sense, don't it?"

Isaac was silent in thought for a long moment.

"I guess so..." he replied slowly, "It just doesn't seem fair..."

"Life ain't fair for anyone, Son. Some just got it worse than others." The old man concluded and patted him on the shoulder.

            Isaac left the stable, unsure of how to feel. Slaves were never a big part of his life growing up in the Rivermere orphanage--he hardly knew they existed until he joined the military. The barracks had four slaves that he knew of: three goblins and one faun who quietly cleaned the place top to bottom every day. They had always been part of the background to Isaac. He'd never taken the time to speak with them or pay them any mind, nor did anyone else. Isaac found himself walking towards the barn. He didn't know if he was breaking the rules, but curiosity and that damn impulsiveness of his was leading the way. The double doors were closed, so he peeked in a grimy window.

            Three goblins were inside: An elderly woman, a toddler and an older child. Grizzly was in there too, curled up on a bale of hay. Goblins were widely considered the elves' 'ugly cousins'. They had bald heads and very long pointed ears. Most notable were their extraordinarily large noses. Their limbs always seemed to thin for their big hands and feet. The older child spotted Isaac looking in the window and pointed, saying something the soldier couldn't hear. Then the old woman saw him and slowly got to her feet, walking out of sight. Shortly after, one of the doors opened. The old goblin said nothing, just stared expectantly. Her clothes were but dull rags and her eyes appeared slightly clouded.

"Uh, hi." Isaac greeted, "My name is Isaac. I, um...I guess I'm staying here for a while. I just thought I'd introduce myself."

Bowing her head slightly, the goblin replied,

"Hello, Isaac. We'll serve you as we serve the Stillwaters."

            The older child ran outside and stopped in front of Isaac. She absently scratched at the irons around her little wrists and exclaimed,

"I'm Tam! I'm Tam!"

Isaac kneeled down and extended a hand for a shake,

"Hi, Tam. I'm Isaac."

The little girl looked at his hand, then giggled and ran back inside the barn.

"Do you want to come in?" the old woman rasped.

"Oh, well I--" Isaac began, interrupted when Grizzly came racing out and nearly tackled him to the ground. He staggered back and grunted,

"Hi again...!"

Tam returned a few seconds later and tugged at the dog's tail,

"Off, Itu!" she said. Immediately, the animal sat on the ground. The soldier was in disbelief. It took two grown men to pull her off him an hour ago.

            "So this is your house...?" Isaac gestured to the barn. The old woman told him flatly,

"It keeps the rain off. It's warm enough when we're all together. But it is not a house."

"I'm gonna live in a house like the Stillwaters!" said Tam, jumping in place, "I'm gonna go in the house!"

"You stay out of that house!" the old goblin told her sharply, "You were born in this barn and you will die in this barn, just like the rest of us."

Tam frowned,

"I wanna go in the house..."

Isaac smiled at her,

"What kind of house would you have, Tam?"

The child perked up,

"Big! Everyone has room! Ma and Pa and Gram and Uncle--"

The old woman took Tam by the arm and pulled her towards the door. She glared at Isaac and said,

"I think it's best you leave. You're putting ideas in her head."

Then she, the child and the dog disappeared as the door slammed.

            Isaac was dumbfounded. He stood there for a long moment, watching the field workers press on in the hot sun. He walked away feeling cold.