Chapter 39: Chapter Twenty Two – Unpleasant Leftovers

“Anyone coming?” Lysabel asked, not looking up from where she sat cross-legged on the floor of the tunnel. Smoke wafted down the tunnel from the fires still burning in the Warrens, causing my eyes to burn, and threatening to make me throw up with the stink of wood and flesh.

“Not yet, no,” I shook my head.

“Well, I’m nearly done here,” she shook her head slightly and peered up at the cave roof. “This is a bit wider than I thought. It’s going to take everything I have and more than a bit of luck to get this to fall the way we need it to.”

“We need a bunker buster bomb,” I nodded. To be clear, I wasn’t sure what a bunker buster bomb was, but I’d read news articles about them. Inevitably my eyes would glaze over, and I wouldn’t actually retain any information from the last ten to fifteen paragraphs, but I was sure that one of those could probably do what we wanted done by virtue of the name alone.

“That is something from where you’re from, I assume?” Her eyes flicked over to me as her hands moved deftly tying knots.

“Yeah, they’re…like really big exploding catapult stones shot from…” I had no idea how to explain it in a way that made sense. “From, like…kites or…something.” Lysabel’s head cocked curiously.

“They sound…different.”

“I’m not good at explaining what they are, but I’m sure they would work,” I finished with a shrug.

“Your home sounds intriguing. Bunker buster catapult stones and popsicles and such strange-sounding words like ‘fucked up’. I would like to see your home one day, I think.”

“Oh, yeah, my apartment’s super nice! I was on a waiting list for like two months to get it!” I enthused. “I spent sooo much money decorating it! Like…way too much money. But I got my figures and all sorts of nice furniture and my bed! My bed is so nice and comfortable! It’s a memory foam bed but its not all squishy like some of them! There’s enough firmness to make it comfortable but also like falling into a cloud!” I was jabbering out of pure guilt. I was teaching this girl all the things I should not be teaching her.

It was a little like the inter, I supposed. It had been claimed the internet was a repository for all the world’s knowledge when, in actuality, it was the home of bad porn, toxic assholes who could offer their opinion (wanted or not) on everything and unwanted dick pics. Now that I thought about it, I was actually almost exactly the half elven equivalent of the internet to these poor people.

In my defense though, my skillset as a history teacher didn’t fit the situation. I could regale them with tales of the Joseon Kingdom. Tell them all about Queen Min or Julius Caesar or Amelia Earhart but it would be a waste of time. They would have no idea what I was talking about. If I’d been a physics professor at least I could have tried to do some sort of physics tricks to make myself appear more interesting. Somehow, my knowledge of my generation’s pop culture, anime, manga, and K-Pop yuri telescope ships didn’t seem quite as engaging without a common frame of reference.

“And you live in this ‘apartment’ with your family?” Lysabel asked, shifting her legs slightly.

“Well, my sister was supposed to come live with me but I…left, I guess, before she showed up and I guess she probably went back home to my parents’ house.”

“Are you not married?”

“Me? Married?” I wanted to laugh but didn’t want her to feel bad for asking the question. “Uh, no. My kind can’t get married in Korea. At least not yet.”

“Oh, there are racist laws against half elves there as well?” Lysabel’s scowl was plainly visible even in the darkness with my vision. “It’s so pig-headed and petty that half-elves are treated like non-people. It makes me so mad.”

“’If you prick us, do we not bleed?’” I whispered.

“Hmmm?”

“It’s a line from Shakes…er…a writer from where I’m from. He’s explaining that people are the same. We love, we laugh, we cry, and we bleed no matter who we are or how we’re perceived by others.”

“A wise man, indeed,” Lysabel replied. “I wish more people believed in that truth.”

“You see, I’m a lesbian and that’s why I can’t get married. Not because I’m a half elf, I guess.”

“Lesbian?”

“A homosexual. I’m a girl that is attracted to girls.”

“Ah. What a strange word. Lesbian. Why is liking other girls called this?”

“Uh…hmmm…well, it comes from the name of an island where a writer wrote about how she liked other girls.”

“And all ‘Lesbians’ come from this island?”

“Huh? Oh. No. It’s just a term used to describe people like me. Lesbians can be from any country.”

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“So not being a citizen is not why you can’t get married?”

“Uh, no.”

“Then why can’t you get married?”

“Ah, yes,” I chuckled mirthlessly. “That’s the question, isn’t it? Honestly, I have no idea. Maybe the powers that be are threatened by a lifestyle they have no role in or maybe its fear they may be like us deep down or maybe they don’t consider us a real couple since we can’t have children. I don’t know. But they don’t seem very receptive to the idea of giving people like me the same rights they often take for granted.”

“While being in my position I can understand the lack of children carrying on the family name, can you not adopt? It’s commonplace through the land, isn’t it?”

“Unfortunately gay people in most countries, even if they can get married, aren’t allowed to adopt usually.”

“Why is that?”

“I…honestly don’t know. The people in charge kinda suck?” I shrugged. I really had no idea.

“In my experience as one of the sucky people in charge,” she giggled as she pulled the string she was tying tight, “if the people speak with a loud enough voice, we have no choice but to listen. Be the instrument of the change you wish to see happen. Find enough people who think the way you do and cry with one voice long enough and those in power will hear you. There are some hearts and minds you cannot change. It is in people’s nature to be intractable. But for every stubborn soul you will find two others who will listen.” She climbed to her feet and stretched. “Change is often slow and painful, but your cause is just. I know you can change hearts and minds.”

“I’d like to.”

“If that’s what you wish, I’m certain you will. The charges are ready. We just need to get them up there.” I looked up where she indicated.

“Not a problem,” I grinned, mentally flexing on my abilities. “I’ll have it up there in a jiffy!” taking the string of staggeringly dangerous objects in my hand I leapt up, grabbing a handhold, and quickly scrambled up the seemingly sheer wall of the cave to the spot.

“Hang it on the rock directly,” Lysabel said quietly. “If you can. The closer to the rock you get it the more damage it’ll do.” Hanging like a spider monkey by one hand and supporting myself with my feet I had the string hung in moments and leapt down. “Quite impressive! I have no idea how you did that but that should do nicely! We can back up the cave and I’ll throw this last one here. It’ll set the others off, and that should bring most of the roof down.”

“The sooner the better,” I glanced around suspiciously. “The sounds in this cave are creepy as fuck. I keep hearing like scraping or something and I- “The figure rose behind Lysabel, looking like nothing more than a shadow but my eyes could clearly see the arm movement as a blade swept toward Lysabel. I deftly pulled the princess toward me by the tunic front, causing her to stagger forward.

“I see your reactions are as fast as advertised,” the quiet voice said from the darkness. The figure flicked a dagger at my feet. It landed with a clink and spark of metal on stone and bounced to a halt a meter past me. “Good. This should be exciting.”

“I recognize you. You’re that assassin person.” I was awful with names. “Why aren’t you dead? Why are you trying to kill Lysabel? I thought I was your target.”

“Jaxxin,” the girl intoned, rolling her eyes, and stepping forward. “My name’s Jaxxin. At least remember who’s come to kill you so its in the forefront of your mind when you die.”

“You are strange as hell,” I shook my head.

“Those were a lot of questions you threw at me. It’s tough to decide which to answer first. I’m not dead because I’ve been doing this far longer than you can imagine and I’m the best at what I do. And who said I only tried to kill the whelp’s punching bag, anyway?” Jaxxin gestured to Lysabel. I glanced down and Lysabel’s face was drawn back in a horrified gasp, her eyes rolled back in her head, her body stiffening in my arms. “It’s a poison of my own making. It’s really quite clever and deadly. It attacks the nerves, paralyzing as it goes. It’s wonderful when you have something else to do and you don’t want your target to expire right away. She’ll be dead in 5 minutes and 52 seconds, though, once the poison on the dagger reaches her heart and stops it.

“Why? What the hell is your fucking damage?” I growled desperately, searching for a wound. I found it a few moments later, a cut on the princess’ back, a spot no more than a centimeter across her shoulder where a blade had cut through her cloak and shirt.

“Killing you isn’t much fun unless you fight back. I don’t want you to scamper off like a little bunny and leave me alone at the dance. I’ve been standing over there the entire time you were chattering on about whatever you were talking about like a pair of rich nobles in a garden. I could have killed both of you and you’d have never known I was there. You don’t have time to get her back to your healer. The only way you can save her and keep the king’s army from reaching your refugee charges in time is through me. The antidote is here.” She reached under her tunic and produced a silvery vial on a chain. “It’s time to dance.” Jaxxin was clearly visible even in the dark. She flipped her cloak back and drew a pair of wicked-looking blades from the sheaths on her back.

“If that’s what you want,” I snarled. I glanced down at the princess’ stiffening body in mounting horror and anger. This fucking bitch! She picked the wrong chick to screw with! I gently laid Lysabel down and stood, my daggers leaping into my hands. “You’re making a mistake.”

“I doubt that. I saw that pitiful exhibition against the lesser demon. Not to mention I’m well aware of your healing ability and am quite prepared for it, I assure you.”

“Aren’t you just the little wilderness scout,” I sneered, angling slightly toward the middle of the passage to give myself more room to maneuver.

“5 minutes and 20 seconds,” Jaxxin turned her body slightly, bending her knees as she dropped into a battle crouch and grinned infuriatingly. “Tick tock.”

“Let’s cook, cupcake,” I challenged, leaping forward to the attack.

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