update from sparkleup

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Madison Scott-Clary 2023-04-10 21:40:08 -07:00
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<p>Belek bowed politely to the monk. &ldquo;I will eat what I am able, grandfather, and I will work.&rdquo;</p>
<p>The monk smiled faintly at the honorific and gave a subtle nod in return. &ldquo;We do not interact much with the cat folk. Too stationary for your kind, perhaps. The khiidiin nomyn san does not move, after all. We will do what we can to provide for you in exchange for your labor within the limits of our strictures. On completion of the task, we will be able to pay you for your time here, though you must understand that the monastery is not wealthy.&rdquo;</p>
<p><em>Within the limits of our strictures</em> proved to be plenty within Belek&rsquo;s. While they could not eat the monks&rsquo; tsampa during lunch, they would take butter in their tea, and then they would fill up with steamed balls of the filling the monks had within their momo at dinner.</p>
<p>They kept to themself, bowed at anyone in a robe, and worked quietly. In the morning, they would let the younger monks lade a frame pack with scrolls and books and move them to the hall where the older monks toiled, checking for silverfish and signs of rot. In the afternoon, they would roll up the rugs and take them to a patio where they would be inspected, cleaned, and repaired if possible, or set out for the beggars if they were too worn.</p>
<p>They kept to themself, bowed to anyone in a robe, and worked quietly. In the morning, they would let the younger monks lade a frame pack with scrolls and books and move them to the hall where the older monks toiled, checking for silverfish and signs of rot. In the afternoon, they would roll up the rugs and take them to a patio where they would be inspected, cleaned, and repaired if possible, or set out for the beggars if they were too worn.</p>
<p>And at night, they would run through the list of items they had carried throughout the day and consider which would be a more appropriate payment than simple coin.</p>
<hr />
<p>When Belek worked &mdash; and work they did! &mdash; they would search for jobs offered by those with big hearts.</p>
<p>The empire was not fond of cat folk. Their family moved often enough with the others of their tribe when they were young, so they were used to finding work where they could and drifting from town to town, job to job, never staying anywhere long enough to raise suspicions.</p>
<p>Their family moved often enough with the others of their tribe when they were young, so they were used to finding work where they could and drifting from town to town, job to job, never staying anywhere long enough to raise suspicions. The empire was not fond of cat folk.</p>
<p>As it was, they were unfailingly polite and always appeared to work within law and custom.</p>
<p>They had walked the streets of the city with a family as a porter and made a pittance for their labor &mdash; and a far larger sum by pickpocketing the crowds around them, as well as the father.</p>
<p>They had worked during shearing season with a small family for a spot on the floor and food for two weeks, and had come away with a small payment of a few coins &mdash; and a larger, unofficial payment of an entire sheep, slain in the quiet of the night and expertly skinned, the dried meat and hide folded away into a pack they had hidden in the rocks, collected on the way to the next job.</p>
<p>They had worked as a midwife, helping to brew the groaning beer and ferry hot water before purring gentle reassurances into the lady&rsquo;s ear as she screamed and cried. They had curtsied to the men and averted their eyes, and come away with a handsome sum in coins and a glowing recommendation &mdash; and two small jade statues.</p>
<p>They had walked the streets of the city with a family as a porter and made a pittance for their labor &mdash; and a far larger sum for pickpocketing the crowds around them as well, as the father.</p>
<p>They had worked as a midwife, helping to brew the groaning beer and ferry hot water before purring gentle reassurances into the lady&rsquo;s ear as she screamed and cried. They had curtsied to the men and averted their eyes, brushed the lady&rsquo;s hair, and come away with a handsome sum in coins and a glowing recommendation &mdash; and two small jade statues.</p>
<p>They were always careful. They were never caught.</p>
<p>They were always Belek, or mister or miss Oorzhak, the polite young cat with no family or friends, the one who was slight and feminine enough to be a midwife, and boyish enough, deceptively strong beneath that gray fur, to be of help with the men. They were hard working, and quiet on the job, but friendly to their employers during downtime, often opening up and telling stories of their adventures; never wholly true, but never, ever false.</p>
<p>Somehow, one of two things would happen before they left. Either something terrible would happen &mdash; a sheep would go missing, howls in the night and blood on the grass; a poor father pickpocketed while in the market, the porter hunched under his load &mdash; or the employer would find themselves entranced by this worldly feline &mdash; here, take these figures with our blessings, may they bring you good fortune, my dear Oorzhak.</p>
<p>Somehow, one of two things would happen before they left. Either something terrible would happen &mdash; a poor father pickpocketed while in the market, the porter hunched under his load; a sheep missing, howls in the night and blood on the grass &mdash; or the employer would find themselves entranced by this worldly feline &mdash; here, take these figures with our blessings, may they bring you good fortune, my dear Oorzhak.</p>
<p>The size of their employers&rsquo; hearts would cover any payment beyond mere coin.</p>
<p>And then they were off to the next city, with a kind wave or a sad bow, to sell their <em>real</em> gains at market and look for the next big-hearted rube.</p>
<hr />
@ -59,12 +59,12 @@
<p>Belek bowed low, finding themself unable to say anything other than, &ldquo;I accept freely.&rdquo;</p>
<p>How did they know what to say? The words were stilted, unnatural. They felt oily in their mouth, leaving behind a thin sheen of premonition. They hung in the air, vibrating with anticipation. Where had they come from? How did they bear such ritual weight?</p>
<p>The old monk gripped the edge of a lectern by which he had been standing. His expression was beyond tense, now. His skin was taut, his eyes overwide, his gaze wandering beyond sanity.</p>
<p>&ldquo;I, Otgonbayar, give this book to you, Belek Oorzhak, in free exchange. It is now yours.&rdquo;</p>
<p>&ldquo;I, Otgonbayar, forty-fifth librarian of the khiimiin nomyn san, give this book to you, Belek Oorzhak, in free exchange. It is now yours.&rdquo;</p>
<p>The monk&rsquo;s equally stilted words clashed with Belek&rsquo;s in the air. They rang together like bells, tolled some untold hour, twined around each other, then around Belek, and suddenly, the book began to warm in the cat&rsquo;s paws. There was a scent of ritual, a tang of omen, a whiff of power of choice and bargain and deals accepted. Deals beyond just a gift to go with one&rsquo;s wages.</p>
<p>And then the moment passed.</p>
<p>&ldquo;I must&hellip;I must rest, young one. I thank you once more for your labor. Your wages&hellip;your wages will be in the refectory&hellip; Ah, preserve my soul.&rdquo; If the monk had looked crazed before, now he looked truly on the verge of madness. His eyes no longer tracked Belek, but seemed to be reading something written on the ceiling. His muscles were rigid. Sweat stood on his brow, and spittle clung to his chin.</p>
<p>&ldquo;I&hellip;yes, grandfather,&rdquo; Belek mumbled. &ldquo;You look unwell. Please rest well, and perhaps I shall see you again soon.</p>
<p>The monk only moaned in response. After a moment&rsquo;s silence, he toppled to the floor, falling stiff, as would a tree, rather than crumpling.</p>
<p>The monk only moaned in response. That tension in his face finally broke free and he let out a strangled cry of pain, his form shifting beneath coarse robes, his skin rippling into some thicker hide, horns cresting from his brow. Then, after a moment&rsquo;s pained silence, he toppled to the floor, falling as would a tree, stiff and straight, rather than crumpling.</p>
<p>Belek yelped, then skittered from the library and down the long hall towards the scriptorium where the other monks were packing up their pens and scrolls.</p>
<p>&ldquo;The old monk!&rdquo; they shouted. &ldquo;He has fallen in the library!&rdquo;</p>
<p>The other monks dropped their materials and leapt to their feet, hollering. One of them dashed up to the cat and opened his mouth to speak before noticing the book clutched in their paws. His look of worry turned into one of dawning horror, then of sadness. &ldquo;I see you two reached a deal.&rdquo;</p>
@ -76,10 +76,10 @@
<p>They bivouacked in the lee of a patch of scrub and it was by the rude light of a small, dry fire that they read the book that was their gift. They did not rightly know why they decided to remove the book from their pack and open the cover. Perhaps it was another whispered &lsquo;Belek&rsquo;, and perhaps it was something more akin to a compulsion.</p>
<p>More, they did not know how they were able to read the book. The language, when they focused their eyes, was not one that they knew, but were they to let their eyes drift just out of focus, the meaning came to them. It came in waves, in gusts, in inexorable currents. It washed over Belek and left their stomach rolling and their eyes watering.</p>
<p>At the turning of the final page, there sounded a distant blast of horns, a low, sustained note from the direction they had come.</p>
<p>&ldquo;Belek,&rdquo; came the voice, now more than simply echo. &ldquo;Do you hear that, Belek? Horns to announce the death of a monk. What better way to forget than through death?&rdquo;</p>
<p>&ldquo;Belek,&rdquo; came the voice, now more than simply echo. &ldquo;Do you hear that, Belek? Horns to announce the death of a monk. He has shifted for the last time, and now&hellip;well, what better way to forget than through death?&rdquo;</p>
<p>&ldquo;F-forget?&rdquo;</p>
<p>&ldquo;Belek, you read my words, you remember. I am with you, now. You are mine, now. So long as you remember me, I will live within you.&rdquo; The whisper of words had slipped into a silky purr. &ldquo;And you will never forget me.&rdquo;</p>
<p>The cat could manage no more than a retch and a groan. They could not force themself to unbelieve the book&rsquo;s words. The truth wrapped itself around them, tightened, squeezed. The meaning of the text was clear. They would never forget.</p>
<p>&ldquo;Belek, you read my words. You remember. I am with you now. You are mine now. So long as you remember me, I will live within you.&rdquo; The whisper of words slipped into a silky purr. &ldquo;And you will never forget me.&rdquo;</p>
<p>The cat could manage no more than a groan. They could not force themself to unbelieve the book&rsquo;s words. The truth wrapped itself around them, tightened, squeezed. The meaning of the text was clear. They would never forget. They would remember every time they shifted, for now, more than ever, they were a shifter-of-shapes.</p>
<p>&ldquo;Belek, Belek, Belek. The deal has been made.&rdquo;</p>
<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;m&hellip;I am a drifter,&rdquo; they gasped. &ldquo;I walk the steppes for work. What could I possibly hope to offer, lord?&rdquo;</p>
<p>&ldquo;The deal has been made,&rdquo; the presence between the pages repeated, comforting in the most unnerving of ways. &ldquo;And now you will go North.&rdquo;</p>