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Voyage

I had a dream. In my dream, I had been stripped of my dignity by dragons, groomed by a fox, and sold to a lion king in a world full of animals who stood, talked, and lived like humans. There were rabbit wizards with floating books and fantastical ivory towers surrounded by glowing stones. In my dream, I crossed paths with a trickster fox who lusted for my flesh. In my dream, I was being stripped of who I was. The lion man's claws reached out for my flesh, stirping the skin off my muscles and bones strip by strip. In my dream… I startle awake as my skin tingles from the memory of flesh being stripped from my bones. It did not take me very long to realize I had just woken from a dream. No, a nightmare.

There was a sharp, sudden rumble and the carriage shuddered to a halt. Outside, the horses whinied and the horse coachman shouted something I couldn't understand.

I glanced up from my prone position and saw my Master's lip twitch. A paw cupped his chin while the other was clenched into a fist at his side. Outside, there was more shouting, and the coach shuddered again as the horses made more noise. Something was clearly wrong. An uncomfortable sort of static filled the stuffy air of the carriage.

“Is something wrong?" I asked, moving up to a sitting position. I was far too conscious of the fact that my body quickly cooled down as I moved away from the lion man's warm body. I had enough wherewithal to stifle a sudden shudder that threatened to escape from my skin.

Roxen leaned against the opposing wall of the carriage, gently edging forward to peer out the window, slightly pulling the curtains aside with a single finger. I did the same on my side, but I saw nothing but tall grass and hills outside. In the distance, the sun began to set over the horizon, slowly turning the world in that deep, twilight blue.

Three sharp knocks thudded against the roof, jolting me from my reverie.

“Stand up," my Master ordered, his voice suddenly far firmer than before. It was the voice I had heard him use when he had threatened the auctioneer.

I snapped to my feet without question, slightly hunched over as the carriage was not tall enough to support my full standing height. He quickly spun around and flipped the seat up effortlessly, revealing a hidden storage compartment holding a sheathed broadsword with a cross-hilt. From this distance, it was easy to notice the thin, elegant, silver writing carved along the blade.

“Bandits," he growled, his deep baritone filling the room, making my skin vibrate with the sound. “They've grown bolder the past two moons since Anasharva fell to the Wolves. The brutes are no better than common mercenaries, who care very little for the obligations of cultured men. The poor, the desperate, the angry… take refuge in banditry as a way of life. And there are no poorer, more desperate and angrier creatures than the citizens of Fulrich, the Raider King. I should have known better than to be so… vulnerable, considering the precious cargo I picked up."

My face flushed at being referred to as precious cargo before my brain truly processed the weight of his words.

“Bandits!?" I exclaimed, startling straight, causing me to knock my head against the ceiling.

“Fear not," my Master grinned and patted me gently on the shoulder. His paw was firm and strong, yet I couldn't help but stiffen at the sight of his claws. “They will not harm you so long as you do not resist. Should fate be cruel and I fall, just let them take you without a struggle. Even unlearned brutes will recognize that a slave of your caliber will fetch quite the price. You would likely end up with someone far richer than even I, or at least, a very reputable brothel."

“What!?" I screamed. “The fuck, I don't want that, I- neither of those options are good."

Although, a part of me wondered if that was the truth. Would I be worse off with someone else, like that bewitched fox lady? Would I be worse off as part of her harem of men?

What did I want? To go home, sure, and to wake up back during my first day of college and ready to go to…I think it was an elective class, Creative Writing 101. Yeah, I sure as fuck would have a great story to write in that if I could only wake up!

But what were my choices? A slave to someone I knew for a few hours at most, a pack of bandits, or taking my chances out there, in this mysterious, wide world?

Roxen opened the carriage door and stepped out, his wide frame taking up most of the exit. The carriage jostled the moment he stepped out. He stepped forward before looking about him, and I watched as he unsheathed a blade from inside his robe in one smooth motion. I felt the carriage shift again as a heavy weight was lifted from the top, probably the carriage driver. I could hear them both bellowing, calling out for those hidden to reveal themselves.

There were only two of them guarding me. I could have run. It would be a quick and easy thing, to step out that carriage door and run. Clothes or no clothes, I still had my feet.

But where would I run to?

I shivered. I wanted to be free, to run off, but… this was a world full of animal men, magic, and slavers. I knew nothing of this world and the dangers it held. It was already a miracle that I could understand them because of a supposed spell, but what were its limitations? Do I now understand all of the languages in this strange new world, or only those that my master had requested? How long would it last? If this had still been my world, even if in a foreign country, I felt I would have a chance. Further, what's to say that was the only spell that had been cast on me? Were the chains that I wore only physical? Was it fear that was holding me back, or my ignorance? In the here and now, I suspected that my ignorance would kill me. Would my fear help save my life?

I needed time. I needed to think. If I ran now, I'd be making a mistake.

I needed a plan. I also needed knowledge.

I stepped forward towards the open door and slowly peeked my head out.

I saw Roxen's figure in the distance, his back towards me, gripping his sword with both hands, pointed down towards the ground. Beside him was a tall horseman in a long, black waistcoat. He held a long spear with one arm, the other folded behind his back. Neither of them were looking at me, their focus entirely on the group of creatures before them. Goat men of varying shapes and sizes slowly approached with their ramshackle weapons and clothing. Some had thick, long curved horns and were taller and hairier than the others. Some had shorter, bump-like horns on their foreheads, who were armed with short knives in both hands and flimsy looking leather armour. A few had longer, thinner, elaborately shaped horns. Their weapons of choice seemed to be crossbows. One of them raised their weapon and fired. Both the horse coachman and Roxen, avoided it with ease by simply quickly stepping aside. The bolt traveled in the air at an astonishing speed and embedded itself on the door behind me. It had barely missed my cheek, and I even felt the wind caress my cheek as it traveled close to my face. My gasp escaped my lips a second too late, after my mind had just processed how close I was to getting hit by the bolt.

Roxen seemed to have heard my gasp, turning towards me with anger clear in his eyes.

“Stay in the carriage!" He commanded, his voice so loud and firm that I couldn't help but obey.

I scrambled back into the carriage as the fight began. The last thing I saw was the horseman jumping into the crowd, the spear held high above his head, neighing a warcry that I didn't understand. By the time I made it inside the carriage, throwing the door shut behind me, Roxen's roar echoed in the air.

The force of me jumping into the carriage rocked it, and I laid there on the floor, gasping for breath at the shock of what had just happened. The dawning reality that I had almost just lost my life bore down on me like a heavy weight, leaving me surprisingly breathless. I closed my eyes and formed fists with my hands in frustration as outside rang the loud, clashing sounds of battle. Like a coward, all I could do was close my eyes and cower on the ground.

There was a soft click behind me. At first I wrote it off as being just the carriage still settling, but then my mind began to worry as I was sure I had slammed the door shut behind me.

Slowly, I raised and turned my head towards the source of the source, just as the door quietly flew open and a blurry figure leaped forward. My eyes widened as a paw clapped itself around my mouth, and a weight pressed down above me. Soft growls rang in my ears as the creature slowly leaned forward. The shock of a sudden figure jumping towards me forced my eyes shut, but my hearing had been heightened by my fear. Outside, the sounds of battle still range, the occasional roars and neighs filled the air. The weight above me made low, animal noises, and through its rumblings, I could still hear the door click shut. Cold, sharp, steel prodded against the skin of my neck as the weight of the creature pressed down upon me. I closed my eyes tighter as if the act could manifest my will that this was all a nightmare that I could wake up from at any moment.

“Don't scream and you won't be hurt, okay?" a low voice hissed against my ear, his breath caressing my skin.

Whoever this was, they had a bit of a foul musk. Not quite like a dead skunk on the road, but enough to make me recoil. Despite the stench and his hand on my face, I managed to nod in compliance. Various horrible scenarios flashed through my head, compounding the misfortune that had befallen me the past day.

But to my surprise, the paw slowly came off my mouth, but not the dagger.

I slowly opened my eyes to find a young, slender orange fox with bushy fur hovering above me. At least, he seemed young in my human, and animal-man untrained eyes. His cheek was branded by a glaring scar, bare skin carved clean through the fur into a curious pattern. It looked like a blazing fire, but he was otherwise unblemished. His coat seemed shiny and sleek, a stark contrast to his odour.

“Lucky human," he snorted and pressed his wet, black nose against my cheek, snuffling me. “Everyone takes good care of you. I can see that from your smooth, unblemished skin. You smell of pleasant oils, highlighting your fragrant musk. Absolutely delectable. A lucky slave, indeed."

“I don't feel very lucky," I blurted out, still too conscious of the blade against my throat. “A slave isn't lucky."

“You know nothing, welp. An unblemished slave is a lucky slave, indeed. I should know. So was I," he pointed to the brand on his cheek. “They don't treat ugly foxes as well as pretty humans."

“You look good," I replied without thinking.

The fox blinked his emerald eyes twice in surprise, and for the first time I felt the blade detach from the skin of my throat. I wasn't sure if I had just been trying to butter up my captor or being sincere. Although, in my own mind, I had to admit that for an animal-person, he looked fine enough to me. I couldn't deny that I did have the urge to run my hands through his fur, wondering if the parts that weren't touching my bare skin were as silky as they looked.

His eyes went down to my crotch, reminding me that I was still nude. I tried to cross my legs, covering up my hardening package, to no avail. His weight shifted atop me, preventing me from moving much. Despite the fact that he looked light, at least lighter than Roxen, he still seemed strong enough to hold me down. Or was it perhaps a difference in species? As a human in this world, was I perhaps now the weakest link in nature's chain?

“Sincerest apologies," he muttered, clicking his claws on the hilt of his blade. I saw his eyes narrow at the sight of my exposed manhood. “Humans don't like being stared at there, right?"

“No, I mean…" I cleared my throat, “...no."

I shivered and his tail swept over onto my bare legs. It was nice and warm, I had to admit.

“What do you want with me?" I asked.

“That depends on what happens out there," the fox nodded, pointing his muzzle at the open coach window.

Turning my head towards, I saw a horned creature slice through the air, leaking a heavy amount of blood, before the horse coachman followed soon after, spear pointed toward the other poor creature, his nostrils flaring angrily before landing out of sight. Distantly, I swear I heard the awful squelch of heavy metal piercing through skin, organs, and bone. It was shortly drowned out by the horrible, dying braying of what must've been the goat man.

“Think I might be out of luck, human," the fox hummed, shifting his weight atop my obviously throbbing member. “But where my luck ends, yours begins, perhaps? But who can say? Luck was always a stranger in my life."

“What are you talking about?"

“Ah, you needn't worry. Freedom is no longer in your future, whether I hold your chain, that lion, or some other master, it's not your concern. It is better to do what you can to survive."

His ear flicked and he turned his head towards something I could not see.

“The battle is coming to an end and not in my favor, alas," he sniffed and withdrew the dagger from my throat. “Thank you, human."

“For what?"

“For calling me handsome," he whispered as he leaned forward and rubbed his wet nose against mine. “Be seeing you, handsome. Under better circumstances, I would hope. Perhaps, in your dreams."

With a flick of his tail he slid open the door and crept out of sight, silently closing it behind him.

For a moment, I lay frozen on the carriage floor. A stray thought couldn't help but cross my mind. Did…that just count as my first kiss?

At first I was stunned, but then a strange sort of energy shot through me. It was almost flattering being kissed like that by a… someone who wanted to kidnap me and held a knife to my throat. A human-sized talking fox, a bandit at that. One who smelled like bad perfume and sex. Not that I would know.

Damn, this was starting to sound like one of my Aunt's sketchy romance novels filled with consent of dubious quantities! Was I really getting hot and bothered over what I just went through?

Blinking, I stumbled to my feet, moved towards the door and slid it open. My limp legs buckled under my weight and I stumbled out onto the dirt road below. I landed ungraciously, facedown and crumpled on the dirt.

Dirty, pebbles and sand were in my mouth. I pushed myself up, spitting the grit onto the ground, and looked to my left.

Roxen, my master, had his sword locked with a large, muscular goat man's warhammer. I could see blood and dirt on its matted fur. The goat man was gritting its teeth as he pushed down on his weapon with both hands, trying to push Roxen off his stance. But the lion king held firm. The king was slightly bent forward, bracing his sword against the hammer with his entire body, all the while baring his powerful fangs at the goat who struggled to push him back. The horsemaster was nowhere to be seen.

I glanced at the ground where they stood, and found a small line that led to Roxen's feet. It looked to me as if his weight had been pushed forward against his will. It seemed as if my master was losing. Did the king that purchased me have some ace up his sleeve? Could I have sat by and watched, allowing myself to be free of him?

But as I glanced back at the large goat man who seemed to have the upper hand, I looked around at the chaos that had resulted from their raid. Dozens of goat corpses littered the ground, many of whom had been torn to pieces. There was no sign of the horse coachman. Had he died, or perhaps abandoned his lion master? What would happen if I let Roxen die? Would the goat man give me my freedom? Would he take me as one of his outlaw band of goat men? Perhaps he would sell me, as I had been told so many times how valuable I was… would I wish to be auctioned off again? Or perhaps, that fox would return to take advantage of the result to take me?

The world had provided new paths before me. Was I really as ignorant as I feared I was? So far Roxen had shared what wisdom he could impart in the short amount of time we had been together. My own eyes and ears had seen and heard enough of this world that I could likely lie my way through a town, superficially. I could survive, out there… couldn't I? No matter how short a time I had been here, the world was giving me more and more information… even if it was more than I could currently handle. With every piece of new knowledge about this world that I received, all it did was create more questions.

I was getting tired of thinking. I watched as the goat man brayed in a deep, guttural voice at Roxen's face, his spittle flying through the air to smatter against the king's golden fur. I decided at that moment to stop thinking and go with my gut. Magical or psychological reasoning aside, I felt that it would be better if Roxen survived. I felt that I needed to take the chance to survive.

Considering the goat man's large frame and thick muscles, I knew that I had no chance with him physically. But all Roxen likely needed was a distraction, a quick opening for him to act in his favour. As a king, and with that sword, I was certain he was a trained warrior. All he needed was one, small, distraction. I quickly scanned the ground and grabbed a rock in my hand, wrenching it from the dirt. It was a simple gray rock, the size of my fist. I stared at it and clutched it tight in my hand. I was not the most athletic boy, never having even played baseball. But I watched enough sports movies to be relatively confident that I could hit the goat man with a rock this large. I put as much of my desires into the thing in my hands, my future resting on the increasingly ridiculous idea that a single, thrown rock could help shape my future for the better.

“This is for the future," I muttered to the rock, gripping it tightly. I turned and glared at the goat man's head, keeping my eye at the space I wanted to hit. With as much force as I could muster, I launched the rock with what remained of my hope.

It was an anemic throw, much like the time I came in dead last in shot put back in senior gym class. It lazily arched through the air before slowly tumbling down towards empty ground.

What I did not expect was for the goat to suddenly arch his back as Roxen pushed him. The rock clocked the goat man square against his exposed, left temple. I knew that bone cracked the moment he had been hit and his limp body fell to the ground, twitching.

Roxen stood frozen in his defensive stance before turning his face to the lifeless body below him, lowering his sword slowly. He turned his face towards me, eyes wide with shock before he blinked slowly. Despite the astonishment in the lion's eyes, his face was relatively expressionless. I saw that blood had coated his blade and the fur on his hands. I suddenly felt afraid, like I had done something wrong. No, clearly I had. I had killed someone. I had meant only to distract him, and allow Roxen the right of the kill. My hand started to shake as my body suddenly felt very, very cold. I had just killed someone, and it was purely by accident. I just threw a simple rock.

Roxen stepped forward slowly causing me to stagger back in surprise and fall to my ass.

“You are a Geomancer, Heath!" He exclaimed to my surprise, his face astonishingly filled with pride and joy.

Dropping his sword, the lion suddenly pounced and in one, long leap straddled my body under his large, heavy weight. He wrapped his powerful arms around me and lifted me into the air in one shockingly easy movement. Roxen practically roared as his laughter rang in the air. Just as suddenly as he had lifted me, he brought his face against my own and suddenly nuzzled my cheek with his own.

I didn't have the heart to tell my master of my guilt and the lie he readily believed. There were many things in this world that I didn't yet understand. Something else could have happened. Perhaps even that throw had been something more than luck?

“Slave…" Roxen' nose snuffled against my neck, “...why do you smell like a horny fox?"

Roxen was not pleased by the surprising olfactory invasion. I was frozen stiff at his words, I had completely forgotten what had happened in the carriage before I stepped out. There were no sudden threats, but after Roxen planted me firmly on the ground before he began storming around the road and carriage, sniffing at the air. Occasionally a growl would rumble deep in his throat as he stopped in curious places.

Before I could say anything or move, a heavy hand was planted on my chest. The horse from earlier was towering above me, appearing from nowhere. I saw that he too was covered in blood, and a thin, red gash was evident on his long, thick neck. Astonishingly, I saw the wound around the flesh bubble obscenely as it slowly shrank in size. It looked as if the flesh was healing itself at a rapid pace.

I was pulled from my awe as I heard him speak for the first time. I hadn't really thought about what to expect, but to hear such a deep, elderly, yet prim voice escape his lips was surprising. “Let him burn it out. He didn't get the kill, it is best he expend that energy somewhere else. You would not be able to bear it as you are now, and he understands that."

“Does he think-?"

“No," the horse snorted, casually flicking his long spear against the ground, causing a streak of blood to paint the road. He gingerly removed a white handkerchief from inside his surprisingly, mostly clean waistcoat. Slowly and with great deliberation, he began cleaning his weapon with the fabric. “Olivier Shadowbrand, was it not?"

I shook my head, confused, “that's not my na-..."

“The fox," I interrupted, as he nodded at his now sparkling weapon, having finished cleaning it with astonishing speed. “The one who snuck in the carriage in the middle of battle."

I looked down, my cheeks reddening at the fact that he knew. I wondered how. “He didn't say his name."

The horse took out a steel pipe from a pouch hanging from his side and filled it with some kind of herb. Kneeling down, he pulled out a clump of grass and tore off the dirt attached to it before putting it in his mouth and chewing. “Stay clear of that one if you can help it. Creatures like him are more trouble than they are worth. There's a fine line between freedom and madness, and he cares very little about crossing it."

“Don't have to tell me twice," I rubbed at my skin where the fox's dagger had pressed, feeling suddenly relieved that it had not broken through the skin.

“Mark my words, human" the horse swallowed the grass and banged a piece of flint against the pipe, sending sparks flying. Eventually thin smoke wafted from the pipe and he took a long drag before sending smoke shooting out of his large nostrils. “That one has taken several slaves for himself. No one has ever seen nor heard from them again. As far as we know, he seems to be a freeman. Devoid of a master, of any form of loyalty. He is neither bandit, nor a citizen of any kingdom or empire. He holds no loyalty to another, except himself. If he did, I would dread to think of the creature who has that fox in its employ."

“He had a…" I poked at my cheek, “...a brand on there."

“Master Roxen doesn't do that," the coachman replied with a puff of smoke.

“No, I meant, I think he was a slave as well," I explained.

“Brands can mean very many things in this world, human. Bear that in mind. If I were you, I would make sure that my skin would not be marked by any symbol that I do not understand the meaning of," he explained as he watched his king march around the carriage in frustration. “It doesn't mean he has your best interests in mind, if that's what you're thinking. Far from it. That brand could very well be your ferry to the Lake of Shadows. Stay away from that fox."

“He kissed me," I suddenly confessed. I quickly regretted the words the moment they left my mouth.

The horse closed his, and tapped the mouthpiece of his pipe against his forehead, “don't fall for it. Do they have child snatchers where you come from? Soulless men who abduct the whelps of the ignorant or tired masses?"

“What, uh, yeah. What the fu-"

“Think of Olivier as the man who lurks in dark alleyways, near markets or other curious places, dangling candy apples for children luring them away from home and safe harbour. Do you understand?"

“I don't…

“I said, do you understand!?" He asked in a sinisterly, sharp tone.

“Yeah!" I nodded. “Yeah, I got it."

Blushing, I looked down at the ground. I was so caught up in the conversation that I forgot I was naked.

“Here," the horse offered me the metal pipe. “I didn't mean to be so harsh."

“Oh," I coughed, “I don't smoke. Thank you, though."

The horse gave me a look as if I had told him I was from one of their moons… then again, I was already from another world so maybe lunar travel wasn't so weird here?

“You may call me Joback," he said, offering his free hand.

At this point, I couldn't help but notice the tall lion panting before me. Saliva dripped from his tongue as he struggled to catch his breath.

“I'm sorry," he inhaled and wrapped me in a hug. He felt like fire, burning hot against my bare skin. “You stumbled across a criminal mo-"

“Already gave 'em the rundown, milord," Joback interrupted with a bow.

“My thanks, Joback," Roxen sighed. “We must make haste, night is coming and no doubt more blackguards hope to assail us."