The Wanderer's Rebirth: Other Paths

After an extraordinary, excruciating, and painfully embarrassing couple of minutes of miming out how to not only use the toilet, but how to also use the toilet paper, Joram quickly fled the bathroom and closed the door behind him.

There was no way that he could return the intensely curious stares of Theril and Kalduin, so he just walked back into the living room and busied himself with cleaning up. Not wanting to be the kind of people who stood outside the bathroom while a young woman was doing her thing, the other two quickly joined him.

It was beyond awkward, especially when they began inquiring if the “red liquid” was poisonous. He had absolutely no way of articulating in a way that they’d understand the differences between poisons and an irritant. Heck, once your body got used to capsaicin, it was actually quite beneficial… for humans. Maybe it was poisonous to foxkin?

Oh, shit! Since they’re part of the Canidae family, did I poison them with the onions?! Shit! Shitshitshitshitshitshitshitshitshitshitshitshit!!!!

“Umm…. Maybe?” he said, now noticing the garlic included in the Frank’s ingredient list. Had it been a double-whammy? Was that why she’d only had one spoonful of the pasta?

Theril and Kalduin were suddenly very concerned, asking questions with too many words that he didn’t recognize for him to have any idea what they were asking. But going by their tones, the questions likely originated from concern.

“Wait,” he said, holding up a hand to try to get some quiet. “You feel OK after eat here with Reldan?” he asked, suddenly remembering that he’d added garlic powder and dill weed to the man’n’cheese both times that he’d served the foxkin in the past.

“Yes?” Theril replied quizzically.

“Mmm, not poison then,” he said, suddenly relieved. If the garlic hadn’t affected either of them, then the onions wouldn’t likely affect them either. Which meant that it was just the capsaicin that was affecting her so badly. And much like their puppy relatives, foxes didn’t like anything with significant amounts of capsaicin in it either.

Well, the fact that they didn’t seem at all familiar with spicy food might have also been a significant contributor to Myra worshiping the porcelain god. So, the leftovers should be safe for consumption, at least.

Returning back to the concerned duo, he saw their expectant looks and continued, this time voicing his thoughts… with his incredibly limited vocabulary.

“Not poison. Just… new. Body not know it.”

Kalduin nodded slowly at that, seeming to catch on a bit.

“So, she’ll be OK?” Kalduin asked, shooting a glance down the hall.

“Yes. Just… not happy,” he said, pointing at his stomach to indicate what she wouldn’t be happy about.

“She’s going to be right furious though,” Theril said, shaking his head.

Joram tried to copy the unknown word a couple of times, then raised an eyebrow at the man.

“Oh, that means ‘very, very angry’.”

Joram nodded, filing that away for later use, as he’d done with everything else from the lesson earlier. Now that he knew how to pronounce every letter of their language, and a couple of combinations that produced different sounds, he was getting very close to being able to self-study.

“Can I keep books?” he asked, pointing at the books piled off to the side of the table. “Read more?”

The duo exchanged looks before Theril shrugged, though Kalduin was the one to speak.

“Sure.”

Well, that was easy, he thought, especially given what he’d inadvertently done to his sister.

As though they were reading his thoughts, they both started chucking.

“It’s about time something like this happened,” Theril said, though careful to keep his voice low in case Myra was listening.

“She’s too stubborn by far,” Kalduin said, nodding. Though, Joram noted, Kalduin didn’t lower his voice, likely intending that his sister overhear his comment.

Siblings, he thought wryly. They were the best of friends and the best of enemies at times. Then he nearly frowned, remembering the siblings he’d left behind. He supposed they all thought that he was dead now.

“So, another two days?” Theril asked, getting a nod from Joram. “Good. Once she is done, we will go,” he said, motioning to the door.

He nodded, then helped pack up the food containers into the now empty backpack for them, warning them to be careful not to bang them around for fear of breaking the containers, or popping them open by accident.

Then, they waited….

* * *

Myra was beyond mortified by not just what was happening to her bowels, but by the human’s miming. She was barely holding on, sweat pouring down her back and face, but eventually he left after she nodded vigorously at him that she understood his antics.

With the lid on the unusual bowl-like chair…thingy already lifted, she only had to worry about her pants. With the several candles that her tormenter had already lit, she had more than enough light to deal with her sash before dropping onto the weird seat, releasing everything in one horrid, fiery, blast.

Yes, fiery. She’d been tortured enough by having the red sauce of death in her mouth until the- at the time!- saintly human had given her bread with which to fight the fire. It had been… better for a time after that. But.

When she’d taken her first ridiculously delicious bite of the strange food, she’d discovered that the fire had just been displaced to a new battleground. Her stomach.

Not wanting to lose any more face, she’d done everything in her power to keep a calm and cool demeanour. There was absolutely no way that she’d allow that guy to see how uncomfortable she was. But as her oblivious brother and that dense Theril continued to eat, things had gotten worse.

Then, the end had finally come in sight. They’d finished, finally gotten the clue, and were about to leave with the rest of the food, for which she’d been somewhat grateful that the human had been able to do that for her.

But then her bowels began to lose the war, and a great groan of pain had sounded from her bowels.

Which led her now sitting, experiencing pain in a way that she’d never thought possible. As well as embarrassment on a level hitherto unknown to her.

Not only had that Joram repeatedly warned her not to eat it, making her think at first that he was just teasing her, trying to keep something good away from her. But he’d also prevented her from ruining her divine meal. Not only that, but he’d at least provided her a reprieve from the burning in her mouth. Sure, it had just changed locations, but that had at least been something.

And now the fire was exiting, making itself known one last time, a final effort to bring her pain before it was dealt with.

She really didn’t know what this would have been like if she’d just squatted like normal, as things hadn’t felt… solid on their way out. She’d cared for the sick before, and had had to deal with their liquid bowel movements, and it had never been pleasant. This way, at least, it seemed to be… contained.

But the smell!! Oh, everything that’s holy! Why the smell?!

Myra could swear that her nose was dying as, horrifyingly, the smell was starting to die down somewhat.

Then she looked at the… roll that the Master of Torture had shown her, and embarrassingly demonstrated how to use. She reached out and touched it. Then was astonished at just how soft it felt. It was even better than the crude cloths they used back home to clean up afterwards.

Carefully, very carefully, she pulled on the roll and measured out the same length that the Mysterious Man had shown her, then folded it in the exact same way as he had.

Not wanting to get up and risk… things running, she leaned a bit over to the side and started. Wipe then fold. Wipe, then fold. Drop. Repeating the process until the wondrously soft stuff came back as white as it went it. Only then did she dare stand up and re-garb herself.

Once done, she finally scrounged up enough courage to look at the terror that had left her. Her eyes widened at the horror that greeted them, but was immensely relieved that the pile of cloud-like stuff covered the worst of the sacrilege that had been done to the pristinely white lifesaving… chair-like thingy.

Then she remembered what the Soon-to-be-Enraged man had shown her to do. She quickly lowered the lid, causing a bit of a bang that she ignored as the looked at the flat surface of the thing’s “back”, then paused.

“Which one did he say to press?!” she practically squealed as she tried to remember which side of the round button to press.

Going for broke, she firmly pressed the bigger button, rationalizing her decision with the fact that she’d left a big mess. A Big Button to take care of a Big Mess.

The sudden rush of water didn’t sound the same as when it had been demonstrated earlier, so she very hesitantly lifted the lid a bit to take a look, and just about lost whatever was left in her stomach that hadn’t already made its way out the other way.

The smell was bad enough, but the new… mix of what had been in there nearly got her.

Is the water level higher than it was…?

Thinking about it quickly, that would make sense. But hadn’t he told her to push the button? Wasn’t the stuff in there supposed to be removed by magic? Has she broken it?!

Now slightly dizzy due to her hyperventilating a bit, she backed up and looked at the thing. Just how much more face was she going to lose before the day was done? She’d already made a fool of herself with the red sauce of death. But now?

Would she still have the courage to return for the other lessons she was supposed to teach? Would the young man…. Well, he looked like he might be younger than her at least…. Anyways! Would he be able to take her seriously after this? Had she already ruined his perception of their village with her damn stubbornness?

Taking a deep breath to calm herself, she once again nearly gagged at the smell that assaulted her.

No. No, she wouldn’t embarrass her village further. She would purge the filth with fire if she needed to!

* * *

What the hell is taking her so long, Joram thought as he idly flipped through one of the books while the duo marvelled at an old Rubik’s Cube he’d pulled out to distract them while they waited.

***BEEP-BEEP-BEEP!!! BEEP-BEEP-BEEP!!!***

“What the f-” he said, cutting off when he realized where the issue was coming from.

For their part, the other two guys jumped, then clapped their hands over their ears, cringing.

Joram quickly made his way to the bathroom, offering a silent prayer to whatever gods may be listening that Myra was already dressed, then pushed open the door, nearly clipping Myra in the process.

His toilet was on fire, and Myra was waving about frantically, tears streaming down her face due to the acrid stench of burning crap and plastic. As the wind of the door hit her, Myra turned to him with a look of terror on her face and backed up until she fell into the bathtub, taking the shower curtain with her.

Cursing, Joram prioritized putting out the actual fire first, not worrying about the metaphorical fire in the bathtub. He quickly opened the cupboard under the sink and retrieved the half-sized fire extinguisher, pulled the pin, and aimed the thing at the toilet bowl as he pulled the trigger.

Twenty seconds later, he was pulling Myra out of the bathtub while freeing her from the torn shower curtain.

He took a good look at her to make sure that she hadn’t sustained any injuries beyond her obviously mortally wounded pride. Her ears were laid back, nearly blending into her hair. Her face was covered in a bit of soot and tears, but was otherwise fine. Her tails were back, though, and being massaged and stroked as though they hurt. Which, thinking about it, was probably the case since she’d fallen into the tub butt-first.

With no obvious injuries in sight, he quickly manifested an augmented [Cleanse], ridding them all of the noxious smoke, soot, and every other impurity within range. Which, after the augment, extended to everything in the house.

Turning back to Myra, he found that she was staring at him, eyes wide to the point of roundness, and pupils dilated so wide that there was but a thin ring of blue surrounding the black that dominated her eyes. Then he noticed that her bottom lip was quivering a bit. Her ears were still down too, which mean that the tears that had once again come to her eyes were likely due to some extreme emotions involving sadness or something.

“Come,” he said, giving her a consoling pat on the head before turning and bumping into both Kalduin and Theril, who’d evidently followed him into the bathroom at some point. Probably after the smoke alarm had stopped sounding.

They quickly scurried out of his way, letting both him and Myra pass before following them into the living room. Once there, he picked up their backpack filled with leftovers and handed it to Kalduin, seeing as how Theril was the guard and all. No need to risk the food getting damaged if there was a fight on the way back, after all.

“Two days,” he said, then cautiously opened the door to take a look around. After a quick look, the opened the door further and stepped outside to get a better look around. Once he was reasonably satisfied that there weren’t any goblins around, he waved the trio out.

“Thank you for today,” Theril said, shaking his hand before stepping to the side to allow Kalduin to approach.

“Thank you. We’ll see you in two days,” Kalduin said, also shaking his hand.

Then came a very sad-looking puppy, er- kit.

Man, she could give Puss in Boots a run for his money, he thought, taking in the ridiculously adorable young woman in all of her gloriously miserable state.

“Thank you,” she practically whispered before squeaking out one more word. “Sorry!”

With that, she took off at a run, surprising them all as they watched her tails stream behind her. Kalduin was the first to respond, taking off at a sprint after his sister. Theril soon followed, giving Joram a wave as he ran after his two wards.

‘Well, that was entertaining,’ Avi piped in from beside him, nearly causing him to jump.

With all of the excitement of the day, he’d forgotten about his resident AI.

“Yeah, you can say that again,” he muttered as he watched them run northeast of his place. “Guess that’s the direction of their village, then.”

‘More than likely, given how fast Myra wanted to escape.’

Joram snorted a laugh, then turned back to his house-like apartment and frowned.

“At least there was a spare toilet in storage,” he muttered, thinking about the charred mess that was his current toilet seat.

‘At least you don’t really have to worry about using a toilet that often,’ she said, a very slight smile tugging at her lips.

“Yeah, there’s that. But what about company? It’s rude to not allow someone to use the toilet if they need,” he said, shaking his head as he went back inside to start fixing things, wondering if [Repair] might still work.

* * * * *

Celys was glad that she wasn’t needed in her office today, as it allowed her to be distracted at home. Well, it allowed her to try to find something to distract her from her current distracted state.

She’d made sure that she had come off as confident and sure when she’d told Theril to bring her two children to meet the odd human in the forest, but she’d been anything but.

Well, that wasn’t entirely true. She knew that Kalduin would fill the role she’d given him well, as he was an obedient and studious child. As a young [Priest], he’d been trained well in the role. Diplomacy, understanding, as well as an eye for truth. And the spell for it too.

Not only that, but he’d also managed to gain the [Identify] Skill, something very few were able to do, let alone those in their small village.

So, having him go along for the “lesson” had been a must. But given the nature of her stubborn and somewhat gluttonous daughter, she’d also included her. Not just for that, though. But because Myra, for all of her stubborn, muleheaded faults, she was a good teacher.

Since getting her coveted class, Myra had not only been trained as a proper shrine maiden, but also in the ways of educating her flock, as it were. One of which was how to teach those under your care, so that you could help ensure that education and thus civilization, would be properly rooted in them.

That said, Myra was only responsible for the kits who were under ten years of age who still needed to properly learn how to read and write.

So, if her daughter could teach young children, it should-

*Bang!*

The front door banged open just before Myra entered, looking like she’d spent hours running.

“Myra, how-” Celys stopped when Myra ran past her, wailing that she’d never leave the house again.

She turned just in time to see her daughter’s door slam shut with another loud bang.

“What… was that?” She asked out loud, unsure if she’d fallen asleep and was dreaming.

“That, dear mother,” Kalduin’s voice came from behind her, sounding as winded as Myra had looked. “Is our beloved Myra admitting defeat.”

Celys’ jaw dropped in a very unbecoming way for the village’s Chief.