The Albino

Benjamin took a deep breath as the steel stiletto dagger sat rapidly cooling in his hand. It was one singular piece of metal with a simple twisted cross guard and a 6inch handle. The blade was an 8 inch triangular profiled blade with a fine point. Benjamin wondered why his mind had chosen this design, but thankfully this ability did not force him to unconsciousness this time. His mind wandered to the conversation with the glowing being that previous night.

*I believe I can grant this…* The memory floated through his head just as a thudding clank brought him back to the present. Benjamin slowly turned to see Qort having dropped his hammer to the ground, and slowly holding out a hand that was ever so slightly shaking. Benjamin handed him the freshly made dagger. Qort took up the blade gently, expertly turning the weapon over in his hands before tapping it on his iron anvil. A familiar ring of carbon steel rang through the shop. “You are touched.” He said, reverence evident in his voice.

“I… don’t know what that means.” Benjamin admitted, settling heavily into one of the two chairs, part exhausted and part overwhelmed by what he had just done. “What.. What the fuck did I just do.. What am I…” Qort looked at him sharply for a moment before realization spread across his face.

The Durr slowly sat down across from Benjamin, gently placing the dagger next to the bowie knife resting on the anvil. “So, this was your awakening.” He stated, taking the utter fear and confusion in Benjamins face as a sign to continue. “Benjamin, you carry a powerful gift, and a powerful curse within you. Tell me Albino, where are you from. One with talent such as yours would have been appropriated by The Principality at a very young age, and you would have been raised in the royal academies.”

“Im…” Benjamin paused. If what the Forgemaster said was true, along with the rest of the limited information he had been able to learn about this Realm, he needed to be very careful, “I’m from a very long way from here. Outside of the Principality, as it were.” He said carefully.

“I don’t begrudge you your secrets boy, hold them close. I sense no falsehood in you.” Qort settled into his chair. “What you bear is both blessing and curse in equal measure, my people call it Mahorri. In Orcish, it is known as Majik” He pronounced the final word in two parts, almost out of respect (Ma-JiK). “It is as Rare as it is Dangerous.”

“Where I am from… powers like this only exist in legend and storytellers tales” Benjamin breathed, remembering to speak more like the people around him only just in time. He doubted using the term “Fiction” in a positive connotation was healthy. “What is… Majik.”

“I see.. Qort said quietly, “Very well. At its core, Majik is knowledge made power. Understanding made a weapon. Wisdom turned physical form.” Qort took a deep breath, “Majik is the ability to directly manipulate your surroundings without limit. Majik is the catalyst to shape reality to your will….. if you have the fortitude to learn. Therein lays its curse. You must know what you manipulate, what you shape. You must know it down to the smallest of pieces. You must be able to form your desire accurately in your mind down to the smallest detail, or risk failure, agony or death.” Qort paused letting his words sink in.

“What… I… How can I have this Majik, I’ve never….” His voice trailed off slowly, looking down at his clenching and opening hands, remembering the ethereal being who sent him here... and her words.

“Many of the touched go years without awakening, some never awaken at all. Many many more do not survive their awakening, turning themselves to stone, dismembering a friend or a loved one then killing themselves. Some go mad, or worse, insane. Some kill themselves because they lack the discipline to learn.” Qort finished.

“To learn?” Benjamin asked carefully leaning closer, semi terrified of his own body.

“Yes, it is why many call Majik a curse. You must learn, Benjamin. You must have both the discipline to study your desires in great detail, and the discipline to refuse to act on your desires until you know them better than you know yourself. Anything less is lethal to the Touched as well as to those around him.” Qort answered. “If you are willing to learn, and the raw components exists at hand, a Touched can bend natural law to their will, and reshape their own reality…. IF” Qort raised a finger, “They truly know how.” The Durr picked up the steel blades on the anvil, holding them out to Benjamin, “These are yours, I am honored to provide the materials for awakening.”

Benjamin took them gently took the blades, setting them in his lap, “How do you know this about Majik. If This Majik is as powerful as you claim, why is it not in everyday life?”

Qort just chuckled, “Oh it is, but many simply use small amounts of Majik on instinct. A baker being extremely good at making pastries, will likely use small amounts of Majik without knowing it as he pursues his craft with hand and sweat. He knows his pastries; they are his whole life. He simply does not recognize that his batter smooths more quickly, or that the sugar mixes more freely into his dough than it should. A weapons master may not recognize that his understanding of the art of the sword allows him to see what his opponent is doing slightly before everyone else. It is only the ones who willfully flaunt Natural law, such as you have, who get noticed. And they, are singular beings among dozens of thousands of souls. They, are the touched.”

Benjamin nodded before pausing, “touched by whom?” He asked. Many of the pieces of his violent arrival were beginning to make since.

Qort thought for a moment. “We do not know, not with certainty. We Durr call it The Great master, The Orc’s call it Suelin, as they believe that the great burning orb and her nightborn mate Lurinar gift those of great potential the Majik. The Farie call it Cosmos, but they are as elusive as they are dangerous. We know not where they get the name.”

Benjamin froze, Cosmos was the term that Sol used. He thought back to Jukha’s mate, she was Farie; but she did not go into town with Jukha, nor did he speak of her while in town. “This is… a lot..” He stated slowly. “I’m sure you will need to tell someone about me, I can have my things out of here by the afternoon.” Benjamin stood to leave but Qort shook his head.

The Durr Forgemaster stood, taking Benjamin about the shoulders, “I hold no love for the principality, I was one of those taken as “touched”. I was thrown out of the royal academy when they discovered that I was unable to learn anything but the forge. You possess something I hold most dear. New knowledge of the forge is what all Forgemaster live entire lives pursuing.”

Benjamin looked at him in shock, “You have no knowledge of steel? Then what were the soldiers wearing in the tavern.”

“iron, thinly made and coated in silver. It dents easily but will save a life in a fight. It is also Illegal to wear armor, or carry anything longer than a dagger inside any chartered town or city.” Qort walked over to the wall, picking up a 7 foot talk great sword that most closely resembled a Zweihander from germany’s 15th century. “This town does not have a charter, or it would have a name.” Qort handed it to Benjamin. It was made entirely of iron, and his suspicion of the realm being locked into a weird hybrid version of the dark ages, and the iron age. “Teach me this… Steel, and I will teach you all I know of Majik.

Benjamin looked back at the Forgemaster’s for a moment, “On one condition, keep my secret, I do not wish to become hunted.” He offered his hand to Qort

“Deal” The Durr said without hesitation, and Benjamin had to suppress a smile as Qort’s thick drawl returned, “Now’mee’boy. What’is dis yee call, steel”

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Over the next week, Benjamin taught Qort to make steel. It had taken a bit of doin, converting modern processes into a more manual technique. Qort learned quickly, despite Benjamins occasional use of strange terms and his lack of information on what this realm called various tools and component. Sol’s gift of Orcish helped greatly, but there were still differences and difficulties. Some words, such as “slag” and “Coke” simply did not exist in Orcish. Benjamin was surprised to hear English when he attempted to speak of those concepts, drawing a raised eyebrow from the Forgemaster. Eventually, things smoothed out, and by weeks end Qort had produced his first ingots of high quality steel. Qort had explained that this was often the way that a “Touched” learned more, by doing it manually, and learning without Majik before attempting to bend reality to will.

Benjamin watched Qort inspect the cooling Ingots before looking to the rest of his tools. “Qort, I have a request.” The Durr stood up, recognizing the tone of Benjamins voice, “I would like to be able to have several materials on hand. I will find a place to safely test my Majik, but I need to see what I am capable of. I do not wish to put your establishment at risk.”

The Durr nodded in understanding. “Aye was’wondrin or’yee knew more’n just steel.” he held up his hand as Benjamin opened his mouth, “Peace, Albino. Yee’ve givn’ mee a gift’I thinks’ll be bote’ dang’rous an’profitable. Had’yee been at’ta Academy, Yee’d be’a Forgemaster yur’self. I’ve an ole shop on’ta other end o’town. Aye’ve used’t Fer’ storage o’mee bulk buys. If’yee swear’to me at’I wonna’ave ta worry’bout competition, it’s yurs” The Durr smiled at Benjamins raised eyebrow, “A’Durr has’a name’ta up’old. Even’if Aye prefers’to pedal’in metal ‘stead o’flesh.”

“Consider it done, I thought you didn’t care about the slave trade.” Benjamin said. Cleaning up the forge as they finished for the evening.

“Aye’don’t, but’forgin’ does’na need feed, nor’beddin, no’in a hole t’shit… At’said, Mee people consider slavin’ to’be’a better work to’live on.” Qort admitted. “Now! Enough’o depress’n tings.. TO TA’ INN!! Celebratin’s the propper’ting ta be doin’ now.!! T’yer futur’n Mine!” The Durr bellowed, his living beard writhing in excitement.

The two of them locked up, and Benjamin went to change. His extremely light complexion tended to make people uncomfortable for some reason, so he had purchased a dark green tunic with a simple traditional looking pattern of some kind on it. It wasn’t perfect, but most people tended to at least pay him no mind at a distance. He had also gotten simple sheaths for the bowie knife and Stiletto dagger. They weren’t ornate, but they made carrying his new creations practical and comfortable. The same leather worker had made him a belt to hold up his now heavier, andslightly too large leather trousers, and soon Ben was ready to head out. Qort loved to drink, and while Benjamin was never into booze; He realized that low alcohol content drinks were going to be safer to imbibe than water of questionable purity. The Ale seemed to be roughly 1 to 2 percent alcohol. There were other options, but Ben had settled on the Ale to be safe.

Soon enough the two of them had crossed the town’s meager breadth and entered the Inn that also provided the only watering hole for the small village. Benjamin was halfway through one of Qorts long explanations when he froze suddenly, just inside the doorway. The Durr he had seen the day he arrived was back.. and the two slave girls he forced to sit on the floor next to him bore fresh marks on their skin. Their bodies were barely covered this time, as if their owner was flaunting their malnourished state. Benjamin slowly forced every muscle to uncoil as he followed Qort past the sight and up to the bar just as Mi’Ki skittered up from the back with various bottles.

“Mi’Ki! How’yee t’day, beautiful!” Qort half bellowed. Benjamin looked on with a mix of confusion and amusement.

“Qort you old tease, you know I get hungry when you flirt with me” Mi’Ki gave her version of a lyth smile, flashing a pair of impressive fangs. Benjamin palled quickly and Qort only laughed

“Mi’ki’s people’re an… aquire’d Taste. Tey’ hatch twice’a many boys’n tey’ve girls. Need’it too, Considerin’ erry’ 3’in4 males donna’ survive a matin’.” He turned back to Mi’ki from a thoroughly concerned Benjamin.

Mi’Ki gave a dainty shiver and moaned audibly, “I’ve not eaten a lover in ecstasy in almost a decade… hmm” She eyed up Qort with a mixture of teasing, lust, and hunger. “I might even let you live, if your good enough. A fantastic partner is a treasure.”

Qort met her gaze with a broad smile, “Donna’ threat’n mee wit’a gud time, lovely. Aye’ll bring’mee gud armor, just’n case. But’fer tonight, a’pair o’the gud ales tonight. Tis a’Celebration.”

Mi’Ki gave Qort a playful pout while quickly pouring a pair of tankards. Qort and Benjamin settled into table off to the side as Benjamin shook his head in bemusement, “Do I want to know?” he asked as they sat.

“Mi’Ki’n Mee’ave known each’other Fer forty years. We’re foundin’ members o’dis slice’o civilization. We’ve Save’d each’other a’few times. It’bee an’old game’ee play. Few man no’o her kind’av tried to bed’a spider’folk. The one’n survive tell’o a wild’ride, If’n you get’mee drift.” Qort took a long pull of his tankard as a travelling bard began song. The music faded to the background as Benjamin found himself lost in thought. It happened often enough, and he still found himself drawn back to the last time he saw his sister. The events of his “death” haunted him still, ripping through his mind any time he was not excessively exhausted, or occupied with a task. It was one of the reasons he liked working with the Forgemaster. Qort was a harsh task master, but a fair one. And Benjamin’s whole being was exhausted to the point of a dreamless night by the end of most evenings. He still had nightmares, and Qort had awoken him a few times during them. When Benjamin explained, vaguely, what was going on. Qort had nodded, “Yee Demons bee yee’own fight. Aye’ll leave’ee to’it.” He said, leaving him to his slumber. It was Qorts way. The Durr Forgemaster would make sure Benjamin didn’t kill himself, but Benjamin was expected to make mistakes, and learn from them.

Benjamins memory surged, feeding his mind with familiar yet horrifying images, smells, and sounds. He mulled over his conversations with the ethereal being called Sol, his brow furrowing as he struggled to make since of everything…

“Hey, Pink Skin. If ya’ keep Starin’. I’ll make you pay a silver. Maybe I’ll make her sit on it for yee.” A deep voice broke Benjamin from his thoughts, realizing that his unseeing eyes had come to rest on one of the barely covered slave girls. “Do Yee hear me, Pink Skin. Get Yee pecker wicked or stop starin’.” The Durr holding the chains to the girls gave them a jerk, drawing a small cry from the two shivering terrifies girls.

“Suck my cock!” Benjamin spat, without thinking, leveling a murderous gaze at the slaver who spoke to him. This one had a much-reduced drawl, but still had some accent. He was almost as big as Qort, but Benjamin could tell he lacked the power of body created by swinging a forgeing hammer all day.

“What’yee say to me, pink skin?” The Durr growled standing, “Yee don’t demand another man wick’is pecker and get away with it. Outside, you measly shit.”

Benjamin raised an eyebrow, “I have no desire to fight you, Durr.” He stated, taking a pull from his tankard. His heart was racing, but he knew he needed to stay calm… He also knew he needed to have a new conversation with Qort.

“Yee can die outside, or I can fillet you where you sit.” The Slaver growled, and Benjamin noticed some of the Soldier Orc’s sit up with interest, but not in intervention.

‘fuck’ Benjamin thought. He was going to have to fight this Durr, and he felt a flush of memories from Basic, and the extra combat training his fathers buddies had inflicted on him poured through his mind. “So be it” he growled, glaring at the Durr, “If I have no choice.”

Benjamin slowly walked outside, making sure to not fully turn his back on the Durr. His suspicion paid off, as the moment he cleared the threshold, the Slaver lunged. He swung a short hatchet at Benjamin’s head, and Benjamin had to dive into the street to evade it. “You fucker,” he spat. Pulling his Bowie knife from his waist, holding it loosely in a defensive grip. He noticed the gilded Orcish soldiers stepping outside and leaning against the railing, mild curiosity on their faces.

“Common boy. Time to bleed yee.” Was all the Durr said, and charged. Benjamin dodged two more swipes before being forced to block a third with his blade. He felt the steel knife dig into the much softer iron hatchet head, and the Durr growled in hate as he saw the wide knotch in his weapon. “I’ll rip yee in half, n’take that blade boy.” He bellowed before pulling a second hatchet from his waistband. “time to meet the next life, Pink skin” Benjamin had to dodge another swing before getting under the overhead blow from the Slavers right hand. Benjamin’s body seemed to move on its own, as lessons He had taken years ago seemed to pour into his muscles. ‘This must be what Qort said about Majik’ and Benjamin slipped under the over extended arm, swiping his bowie knife along the rib cage of the Durr as he finished the dodging attack. Something felt off, and Benjamin felt a familiar ring in his blade as the edge scored into soft iron, but ultimately bounced off.

The Slaver just laughed, looking at his ruined shirt before ripping it off, revealing a shirt of mail atop a thin gambison. “Close, Pink skin. I’ll be sure to take the worth of my tunic out on The whores.” Snearing, the Durr began to close a second time, hurling one of the hatchets at Benjamins head to help close the distance. Benjamin barely dodged it, rage boiling over as he recognized the connotations of what the slaver had in mind. This time he met the Durr head on. Slamming his bowie knife up under the base of the head of the hatchet, binding the weapon between the blade and the hilt of his steel creation. Benjamin slowly overpowered the grunting Durr, pulling the weapon over to the side while keeping it locked tightly in the bind. “Yee wanna die up close, do yee, Pink ski.. UGGHH!” the explosive exclamation was forced from his body as Benjamins Steletto slipped through the chainmail, effortlessly piercing the thin gambeson and skewering various organs in the Durr’s body.

Benjamin didn’t know where any vital organs might be on a Durr, he just kept stabbing repeatedly, “Suck my cock, you stupid slaver mother fucker!” Ben’s blade drove in again and again with every word. The Hatchet fell from the Durrs hand and Benjamin held him up by the writhing beard as he stopped stabbing, and stared his hatred and fury into the eyes of the Durr. He poured all of the rage and torture he had been forced to relive for weeks into his gaze, staring down the dying man until life’s light faded from the slaver’s eyes. Finally, he let the Dead man fall to the side like so much trash.

Then the shaking began. Benjamin’s anger and rage subsided, and the magnitude of what he had just done slammed into him. His body purged his adrenaline, and he staggered slightly as he picked up his fallen bowie knife. His stiletto still dripped, and Benjamin ignored it as a pair of gilded soldier class Orcs lumbered up, dragging the two slave girls. ‘I guess this is where I’m arrested’ he thought as he wiped the stiletto on his pants, and sheathed both weapons.

“I guess, I should expect this” He said darkly, raising his wrists with his palms up, expecting to be added to small chain gang in front of him. Instead, the soldiers wordlessly dropped the chain leaders into his hands.

“Your name, subject.” One asked in smooth formal Orcish.

“Benjamin Schaife, some call me Albino” Benjamin answered almost listlessly, looking down at the chains in his hands, then at the girls bound by them. “What is this?” He asked, scorn filling his voice.

“The rights of Combat.” The second Orc stated, “It was a legitimate duel, and when the conclusion brings about the death of one party, the other is entitled to any of the items or property in the deceased’s immediate possession. The Slaves are yours by right.”

“Benj-jaymeen Schayefe, albino.” the first orc murmured clearly writing it down before nonchalantly pulling down the skirt of each of the slave girls, duplicating a mark that had been scalded onto their skin. The girls didn’t even flinch, and Benjamin felt another surge of rage. He forced himself to ignore the blatant humiliation as the soldiers finished their “inspection”. He knew they were not alone, and he would be committing suicide if he attacked them.

“These two will be logged under your name with the Inn, and with the Principality when we return to the capital. Safe evening to you Benj-jaymeen” The second Orc stated before the pair turned and walked back into the Inn.

Qort walked briskly up to Benjamin, recognizing the stunned confusion and torture in his eyes, “Come, say nothing. We will talk privately.”