A note from Melcontent

1st update: Made some adjustments to a few paragrahps, fixed spelling errors, improved word count.

 “Why do I have new teeth?” Cyme asked, rolling her tongue over her regrown molars. “And why are you all afraid?”

As far as Cyme was concerned, she had been celebrating another successful mission. She and the Red Spears had just ambushed and captured an Enseen supply of weapons and wine and they had killed two hundred trained men in a coordinated attack.

While it wasn't the most historic of attacks it had caused the 6th legion some trouble. Without a secure supply route the bastards would hopefully starve and be forced to attack their enemies with harsh language. The Orians had also killed an portion of the auxiliary units and being an nuisance.

While death by a thousand cuts was not considered the most honourable method of winning war to the Red Spears, making your enemy slowly bleed to death during a harsh winter was acceptable.

In her perspective, Cyme had been sorting through the wagons and noting down what could be salvaged. She had been admiring an Enseen shield when she found herself in an expensive looking tavern with half her men watching her as if she had just let out a wet fart. It was also one year in the future and most of her unit were dead or missing.

While she had heard that people have ended up so drunk that they have blacked out and lost time, losing an entire year was a little hard to accept and she and several others were finding the idea hard to buy. Cyme could only work with what information that she had, it had been night but now it was day, the princess had just ordered her to the barracks like a mother would an braty child, and her unit were possibly delusional.

Being one to pace when she started to stress out, Chári was working her way to wearing out the barracks's stone floor, “Cyme. Our entire unit just bought a monstrous amount of magical potions from a sorcerer that you said wiped out half an Enseen military block.”

Cyme laughed, “That pisshead? I could have bent him like a twig. And I don't remember saying that.” She had seen this Frank. His fine clothes marked him as a rich little shit who had probably never held a sword in his life. He was nothing more than a merchant selling bad wine.

“That's because you were the last to drink the memory potion.” Another woman cried out in frustration.

Clearly these women had drunk something, Cyme mused. She had seen this Frank and not been impressed. Sorcerer's were supposed to be funny old men with strange ideas about flight and constellations. True, some tales did speak about potion brewing but they didn't run taverns and inns. She wasn't exactly sure what had happened to make her loose time but magic was not an answer.

Kasméni shook her head in worry, “How much money do you think all those drinks and food are worth?” she asked.

“A lot,” Chári said looking as if she was about to have a mental breakdown. “And that's not counting the debt we owe him. Jumping all over world, rescuing you from rapists and jail cells in minutes.” she sunk to the bed, “I do not see a way we don't all get cursed.”

“You are over exaggerating.” Cyme said. If a man tried to force himself on her she would have cut his balls out and fed them to him. Not that she had that many suitors now. Having spent the last five years out of Eba preforming her duty made having a relationship straining, it didn't help that the good looking boys and men went to officers.

From outside the sound of tiny droplets of water hitting thick stone could be heard. Cyme shrugged it off, it was only rain. Then, something that sounded like a sack full of meat smacking into solid granite caused the women to turn to their weapons.

“What was that?” Stafýli said.

Cyme just shrugged it off. While sudden hail storms uncommon this time of year they were not unheard off. Her unit had merely made it to shelter before getting caught in it. What she couldn't ignore was the sounds of thick thumping and slapping that were repeatedly happening right above her head.

A woman's scream caught the Red Spears attention. Surprised and horrified shouts sounded through the streets as the rain became heavy and the sounds of banging ripped through the air. The Red Spears ran to the door to see a grizzly scene.

“The Gods' mercy.” A soldier gasped.

Mouths hung open as fish rained down from what appeared to be a clear blue sky. There was barely a dark cloud in the heavens and yet ells, flying fish, a few cod, and a massive amount of shrimp crashed onto the stone.

Out in the streets it was pandemonium as women carried children back to their homes. One man fell to the ground as a cod hit him in the head. The streets flowed red as some of the fish simply exploded as they hit the roofs and bits of thriving shrimp were wiggling around in people's hair.

“Nooo!” Chári cried out. “The sorcerer Frank has done this.”

“Lets not jump to conclusions. Perhaps some one made a poor offering to the see god.” Cyme said watching the mayhem unfold.

See watched as a fourteen year old girl ran for a nearby house for cover only to get a great white shark to fall right in front of her. “Ahhh,” the girl screamed and pulled out her knife just as the shark, still alive and pissed off, tried to eat her. The girl let out a battle cry as she fell upon the giant man eating fish.

The Red Spears didn't stand idly by. Grabbing spears and what improvised weapons that they could find, they ran out into the raining fish and went about showing the ferocious animal what girl power was all about.

“Alright. It's the sorcerer.” Cyme was willing to conceded that it was more likely that a cheapskate with magical powers was the more likely culprit behind this weird weather than a sea god willing to make a point. Especially as Eba was nowhere near an ocean.

“How do we fix this? Kill him? We don't have gold.” Cyme shouted as she brought down her club on the thrashing fish.

Stafýli pushed her spear into the shark's spine. She was not one to have patience for fishing but killing a massive shark did put a smile on her face. “I guess that you will just have to sleep with him?” she had meant it as a joke but that was not how Cyme took it.

“Wait, why me?”

There came a loud, “Ooooooowaaaaaa.”

Heads turned to the sky and jaws fell to the ground in shock as a blue whale came tumbling out of the sky and landed in the middle of the training grounds.

Cyme turned to her sisters at arms, “If I have to do it so do the rest of you.”

After a close call with a swordfish the group finally made it back to the Abstract. Outside of the door Princess Keramídi was giving out orders and trying to rally her soldiers. Any other day and she may have gotten the entire city into a functional mob, sadly, an Ajax war galley had just fell out of the sky and had hit a senator's house.

For some strange reason, Cyme thought that she could hear the sound of laughter in the air. She turned to the door that was standing in the middle of the street.

“So where is this tavern?” she asked her new war leader.

Stafýli looked at Cyme as if she were an idiot. “Don't you see the door over there? Where did you think we came out of?”

Cyme was about to talk back to the bitch when she remembered that she was talking to a superior officer now. “I was busy,” she said feeling embarrassed.

Being ordered by the second princess and getting marched out of a strange place, Cyme hadn't had time to look back to see where the tavern was. She was also slightly tipsy and bloated, as if she had been gorging herself of fatty foods and powerful wine.

The warrior woman rubbed her stomach, it felt as though she had eaten her weight in roast beef. She was sluggish and tired, and despite the excitement she was holding back a yawn.

The new commander of the Red Spears, turned to the members of her unit and started pointing at individuals, “You, you, you. Go inside the Abstract and convince the sorcerer into stopping this curse before he summons a real sea monster. The rest of us will attend to the princess.”

Cyme wanted to debate on why her, and how she and the others planned of completing this mission, but there was no time to argue. They needed to stop this before more people got hurt. The three women charged for the door, spears and shields at the ready.

Entering the restaurant, Cyme immediately saw Exlia on her knees, laughing like a mad woman and pointing at the house that now had a ship on top of it. “Attend, her.” She ordered her compatriots. The crone was obviously struck by some kind of spell.

Seeing her foe standing at the bar looking at what appeared to be a piece of glass, Cyme stormed over and pointed her spear at sorcerer. “Stop this madness now.”

Frank the sorcerer failed to look up at Cyme. Instead, he stretched out his hand to the side, “Target, spear, move.” And just like that, he was holding a long spear in his hand, the weapon materialising from nowhere.

Her folly now armed, Cyme had no reservations about ending this threat. There was just one problem. The spear that she had been threatening him with was no longer in her grasp. The damn magician had made it disappeared it from her grasp and made it appear in his.

The shock on her face must have caught Frank's attention. “To put it in a way that your primitive mind understands, this is my realm. While my functions are limited right now due to power shortages, I can alter everything in here.” His bored eyes locked onto his would-be attacker's, “And I do not like weapons being aimed at me.”

It was true. The whole thing about him being a sorcerer was true. Then again an empty door frame leading into an inn should have been telling, but again Cyme was too distracted by the whole raining fish and boat ordeal to notice.

Defeated, Cyme lowered her shoulders. She could not beat this man. If what he said was true then he might as well be a god in this place. She tried diplomacy, “I know that you may feel that we have cheated you, but the people outside have done nothing to deserve your wrath.”

“I agree,” Frank said.

“You do? So you will stop this curse?”


Cyme wanted to strangle the arse. He was doing this because it amused him or he was trying to prove a point. “What do you want? I am sorry I drank your potion.”

“What I want?” Frank snorted, “Do you know how much you and your friends cost me? I told Stafýli how much and she said that Princess Bitch out there would pay up.” He held up the gold coins. “This wouldn't cover me getting the strength to get out of bed in the morning. Now I need to find away to recoup my loses.”

Just how much had they drunk?

“And how is making it rain fish going to fix that?!” Cyme yelled.

“It doesn't.”

Cyme shook from the anger and contempt she felt towards this man. Hearing a scream from outside, desperation settled in. Not seeing any other option, the Orian blurted out, “I'll pay.” Seeing Frank's raised eyebrow she continued, “Until my people's debt is paid, I'll serve you. Damn you sorcerer, and your magic.”

The sorcerer put down his glass rectangle and looked at Cyme as if for the first time. His eyes moved to Exlia, the old general was watching their exchange carefully and she was ignoring the two Red Spears who were trying to pull her outside.

Cyme couldn't think of that right now. Her attention was on stopping this madness.

The sorcerer picked up his glass and swiped his finger over the surface. “First, conditions. You will be paid on an hourly rate of a waitress. Food, uniforms, board, and utilities will be taken care off. Your duties will include serving food and drinks, being my bodyguard when I am outside the Abstract, providing me information. Your terms?”

He continued, “You will work until you have paid for all of the Orian's debt to me. Every mouthful of food, every gulp of wine, every stim, and every Lucky Luke. You will work for me until they are paid.”

Put on the spot, Cyme stumbled for words. She had been expecting to become this man's toy but circumstances were appearing in her favour. “You will not hurt me in anyway, shape, or form. You will not touch me unless given permission. You can not place spells on me. You will not whore me out to whoever comes through that door. And you will leave Oria alone.”

“The hurt part is restricted to physical and sexual abuse.” Frank counter proposed, “I don't want to be charged for breaking your delicate little feelings. Also, you can not physically hurt me or steal any of my possessions without permission.”

That comment caused the warrior to scowl, “Deal.” It should have been the end of it.

“Consequences,” Frank said, “I break any of your demands, I cancel the debt and bring you right home. You break your deal, I wipe your memories and leave you in some deserted street in the worst neighbourhood that I can find.”

Cyme turned her head to Exlia, hoping that the old woman would intervene and stop this. Was it her imagination or had the one-armed woman been smiling? Now Elixa was standing upright and she gave Cyme a nod to continue.

“Deal,” Cyme grumbled, “Now, pull your curse back.”

Frank smirked and pointed his thumb out the exit, “The fish thing? That stopped two minutes ago. And that wasn't me. That was a tornado 570 kilometres out into sea.” He turned his head to Exlia, the old woman was watching both parties.

“Looks like you got lucky Elixa. You got a free drink.” Frank said.

The old woman gave the sorcerer a wave, “Today's my lucky day.” she guided the confused Red Spears outside and the door closed as they cleared the portal.

The door to the bath opened and Tila came out rubbing sweat from her forehead, “Master, I got the body out of the bath.”


A note from Melcontent

I added this chapter in with the rewrite. I decided to show how Cyme decided to stay with the Abstract.

About the author


Bio: Born in Australia I am a late bloomer when it came to books. I started writing when my grandfather died and it just sort of turned into a hobby.

I like science fiction, but not space opera. I like fantasy but I am picky when it comes to epic and urban types. I try to stay away from vampires, zombies and romance novels when I can.

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