Chapter 523: Outside Voice

By the time Owyn collapsed into his bed, he was lightheaded from mana-deprivation and more than a little exhausted in his body. He was too tired to even take off his clothes as he just lay there on his stomach.

He’d learned a lot about mana circulation but almost nothing about the mysterious Attika and why Arc wasn’t supposed to behave like her.

"She’s one of our daughters. The eldest," Ferro had said. "But she made some bad choices, and so we keep her here."

The weight of his words had indicated there was far, far more, but Owyn didn’t want to pry. For one thing, it would be rude, and for another, he suspected Arc might tell him if he asked. The intensity of her emotions told him a lot. That perhaps, like some of the Chief’s other children, she compared herself to the firstborn. All of the children in his village had grown up being compared to Aban.

Come to think of it, Owyn had gone almost the entire day without thinking about the cocky oldborn youth that nearly got him killed. He reached for the pouch on the bedside table, with its light-emitting crystal that dimmed or brightened when touched, and pulled it towards him, continuing to lay on his stomach as he opened it with one hand and dumped the meager contents onto the bed.

The only object still worth consideration was the communication stone he’d been clutching even in the belly of the titan that brought him here. And he tilted it about between his fingers as exhaustion became drowsiness, and he fell asleep, wondering how far he might go in this new, strange place...

*

"...Hello? Is anyone there? Hello?"

Owyn jumped to wakefulness at the sound of a familiar voice. He looked around the room, before realizing the the voice was coming from his hand. From the stone he’d kept holding, even as he fell asleep.

He raised it to his lips. "H-hello?"

"Owyn? You’re alive! How?"

"Who is this?" Owyn asked.

"It’s me, Aban! Have you forgotten me already?"

Owyn felt a surge of anger as he siezed the stone. "You son of a bitch! You sent me out there to die!"

"Whoa, come on. To the guys, you’re a hero. You saved us, man. Tell me where you are and we’ll come get you."

"I’m inside the barrier, you idiot! And the last thing I want is to be trapped here with you!"

Aban’s tone shifted to something less friendly and more conciliatory. "Alright, I get it. I had a tough call to make, and I ended up burning you for it. It was my hunt, and I screwed up. I apologize. If it makes you feel any better, the Chief punished me and put me on orphan-finding duty. I’ve been in the city for most of the past week since it happened."

"The past week? It’s only been four days."

"What?! No way. Holy shit, time is moving slower in there? I wonder why you don’t sound all stretched-out and shit..."

"What the hell are you talking about? Nevermind. I’m still fucking furious you used me as bait."

"Don’t be like that, man. Owyn. Look, I admit I didn’t treat you right growing up, but it’s a lot of pressure, being the Chief’s son. I had to be tough, and that meant giving someone the short end of it." Just as Owyn was about to tell him off, Aban continued, "But we can start over! I might even be able to find some way to help you while I’m down here. What do you need? Supplies? I can lose a few things from the caravan."

That would just get Jederic in trouble. But Owyn recognized that perhaps he did have an opportunity to get ahead of Aban... to return to the clan as a hero with more magical tools and maybe even weapons. Or even some kind of alliance with this strange city. Something like that would show everyone that he wasn’t just a runt...

"I don’t need any help surviving here. But if you want to make yourself useful to me, then how about this: Find me anything you can about a place called "Norneau." You can handle that responsibility, right?"

Owyn could only imagine the look on Aban’s face, having his own words thrown back at him. He knew more than anyone that Aban always had to be the smartest person in view, and hated being proven wrong or even equal to his peers.

"Sure..." Aban said, with obvious strain in his voice. "But in exchange, you tell me more about where you’re at." Of course he wanted to know what was inside the barrier. It was the mystery that everyone in the clan pondered.

"Fine," Owyn snapped. "Let me make this clear, Aban: We aren’t friends. We never were because you needed someone to pick on, especially when I tried. So don’t even think about trying for it now. If you can’t deliver what I want, then I’m just going to throw this rock away and live my life. And if I ever get out of here, I’m done with you. Understand?"

There was a long pause before Aban answered. "Understood, Owyn."

"Good. Don’t contact me until you have what I asked for." Owyn let go of the stone, before thinking better of it and putting it on the bedside table. He lay awake in the pre-dawn hours, contemplating whether or not he should tell anyone about the stone and Aban. He had thought that nothing could leave the barrier, but apparently, that assumption didn’t apply to the communication stone. And he couldn’t even begin to imagine how that was possible.

So instead, he imagined himself returning as a powerful mage. Powerful and admired... able to slay a Titan with a single spell, which he’d heard was how he had been rescued. Maybe if he met the mage responsible, he could learn from them...

After talking with Aban, he realized that, for once, he actually felt worth more than being bait for monsters.

*

In the port of Reclaim, Aban squeezed the communication stone tightly in his fist, careful not to speak in case Owyn was still listening. He’d been surprised to find Owyn still alive, considering he was certain the clan disappointment had been eaten when Aban used him to try to get a team onto the creature’s back, only for his friends to balk at the last second. Owyn’s screams had given them pause, and probably cost them the hunt, at least in Aban’s opinion.

Who the fuck does that pissant think he is?

He was still angry when he packed the stone away, making sure to pull his mana from it - turning it off - before storing it in his pouch. He was staying in an inn, and the moment he left his room, he heard Sigreed sitting in the common area, drinking beer and laughing at some joke or perhaps just because he was Sigreed and he was stupid.

Aban stopped his lackey’s laughter with a hand clapped on the shoulder. "Where’s Jederic?" he demanded.

"Selling titan bits to the merchants, why?" Hebe, one of the few female giants to come south with the caravan, asked. She was a well-rounded woman in appearance, with green-auburn hair and the clan’s blend of lightly tanned skin and strong features.

"When he gets back, tell him I’m out looking for orphans."

"Thought you said you didn’t find any?" Sigreed asked, and Aban squeezed his shoulder harder to let him know to shut up.

"I’m going to look again!" Aban quickly said. "Just keep him out of my way for a day or two. Sigreed, stay here and make sure she does it for me." Aban knew he couldn’t trust Sigreed to keep his mouth shut around the woman he’d crushed on since become a teenager.

Hebe looked suspicious. By some archaic principle, she was technically senior to him and in charge of the more womanly activities of sourcing cloth, farming tools, and whatever homely implements the clan needed. But he was the Chief’s son and heir, which made their positions at least equal, if not contestable, even when Aban was being punished for losing the titan - and all that potential profit - to the barrier.

After a brief staredown, she nodded, and Aban left the inn. Laska was waiting outside, picking his fingernails with his signature dagger; a short sword in the hands of a regular human, but Aban knew humans were vanishingly rare in this world he’d been reborn in. A world that was his to own, now that he had nobody above him, holding him back.

"Where to, boss?" Laska asked. No doubt the lanky, black-haired giant had heard the conversation. He had better senses than Aban when it came to internal magic and enjoyed enhancing his speed more than any other trait. Laska was smart, as smart as these primitives could be in Aban’s estimation, and more usefully, he didn’t care what Aban got up to as long as he was allowed to indulge his lust for violence. Not being the strongest giant, Laska made up for it by being the sneakiest amongst them.

Aban gestured for him to follow. "We’re going to find a library," Aban replied curtly, once they were away from the inn. "Tell me... does the name Norneau mean anything to you?"

"Nope. Why? Something important?"

"That’s what I’m going to find out..."