This choice: Humiliated, the group practically tiptoes back to the inn.... • Go Back...Chapter #6Awkward Silence and Crashing Footfalls by: swapped4u   It took far too long to find the bent arrows, lost pouches, and forgotten daggers of their party in the fading light. Not to mention all three of them were as unsteady on their feet as newborn fawns. Whatever energy reserve Kieran had been pulling his anger from was drained and he shuffled, sword dragging, for what felt like ages. Dyana didn't look much better and was tripping over her own two feet even more than usual. Orokos' keen senses had dulled in his now heavy, human, body and he felt blind in the low light.
They stopped frequently: Kieran was yet again out of breath ("Gods Dyana didn't you get any exercise with the Divine Mages of Whatever!?"), Dyana had sustained yet another bump or bruise as she tried to navigate back ("I'm just certain we came from that way, not this way. Oh elves eyes are so weird in the dark."), or Orokos' new strength was needed to heft yet another fallen log out of their path.
"Lift with you legs, not your back." Kieran muttered for the tenth time as the rotten bark splintered apart in Orokos' hands. He scrambled for grip to avoid crushing Dyana as she scrambled underneath.
Orokos silently cursed himself for every time he and Dyana had ever made it Kieran's job to lift and carry heavy things. What he wouldn't give to be high up in the treetops! He'd tried, obviously, to get up an old oak to try and get his bearings back. But their pursuit of the creature had taken them deep into a part of the forest where a rot had taken hold. He was barely off the ground, hanging from a branch he would have had no second thoughts about earlier in the day. And then it snapped and he was flat on his back with the wind knocked out of him.
Hours later, with the moon risen high in the sky and an uncomfortable chill long since having invaded their bones, the trio emerged from the forest onto open pastureland. Wind whipped at their muddy clothes and stung the innumerable small wounds they'd endured.
So much for being triumphant heroes hoisting the head of the beast and bulging coin purses high.
"If I never see a tree again it'll be too soon." Dyana said to no one in particular. Kieran grunted through his chattering teeth and pulled his mage robes closer. Dyana's words hung on the air as they followed the shadows into town. To their eternal thanks they encountered no one more than a few townsfolk hurrying about their own business.
A bell. The roar of a fire. The smell of cooking and pipe smoke from the pub for the hall. The lobby of the inn wasn't much but it was the most welcome site they had seen all day. Kieran and Dyana rushed to the hearth, practically shoving their stiff, frozen, fingers directly into the licking flames. Orokos shuffled to the counter; a muddied blob fell from his boot and stuck to the polished wood floor. His sword - after Kieran had dropped it for the countless time - bumped against his leg. His bow - confiscated after Dyana had come close to breaking it - dug into his shoulders. Combined with the weight of Kieran's bag and he felt like a human pack mule.
"Keys please." Orokos rasped to the young lady at the desk. Evidently the innkeeper himself was occupied with the dinner hour.
"Name?" She didn't glance up from her novel.
"I'm...." Orokos started. Who was he? "Kieran. That's Dyana and....Orokos over there."
The girl looked up and startled at the worn state of the man in front of her. Her eyebrows shot up into her hair at the state of the elf and mage woman by the fire.
"....Of course. Sign here. You and Orokos are downstairs in the men's bunkhouse and Dyana is upstairs in the women's dorms," The girl said. Then she wrinkled her nose. "And here. Take some soap. On the house."
Uh-oh. He'd forgotten they'd been separated. Small towns sometimes did that to adventuring parties. More traditional, they said. Orokos took everything and - quietly as he dared in presence of the front desk girl - reminded the others of their sleeping predicament.
"No way! I'm not letting him out of my sight!" Dyana whispered, thrusting a finger into the shivering Kieran's chest. Her other hand was busy trying to rub some heat back into one of her pointy ears.
"I'll just grab your things and sneak down the back stairs." Kieran said in between chatters. Then, he smirked. "Wouldn't be my first time sneaking out of the girl's side of an inn....!"
Dyana made a disgusted sound. Before any further arguments could be made Orokos grabbed her, flashed a grateful smile at the girl, and thundered downstairs.
The bunkroom that Orokos had shared with Kieran just the other night seemed smaller. Messier. Orokos' meager collection of clothing, equipment, and personal effects were scattered around without any order. Kieran's were more ordered, put away with all the precision a member of the Guard needed.
"Where do I....?" Dyana asked.
"Oh. Right," Orokos glanced up at the top bunk where he'd slept just the other night. It felt like giving up on his identity. But, glancing up at the low cobwebby ceiling, there was no way his new body was going to fit comfortably. "You take the top bunk. I'm, uh, on the bottom now."
Dyana nodded but didn't make any moves. Orokos didn't either. They both purposefully avoided their reflections in the small mirror on the wall and did absolutely nothing but stare at the faces of a human and elven man.
_______________
Kieran felt like he'd been thrown in a frozen lake. His feet were like lead as he climbed the stairs to the women's dorms. The stress and the cold had drained him. What room was it supposed to be again? He glanced at the keys in his hand. Wrong hands. Grab Dyana's things, sneak back downstairs, regroup. Get in get out. He couldn't think of anything else, or he'd start freaking out again. He couldn't look at his reflection in he mirrored panels lining the wall. He most definitely couldn't trace the way his robes hung off Dyana's body. He most certainly couldn't look at his breasts.
Argh! What was he doing?
Get in get out. Room seven. Get in and out. It was as neat as a pin and smelt lightly of heather. Must be nice always getting a room to yourself at an inn. It even had its own fireplace! Get in get out. Why did Dyana bring so many books with her? Get in get out. The bed looked so warm and comfortable. The quilt could practically swallow him whole. His eyelids drooped and he shuffled towards the bed, almost in a trance.
"Get it together Kieran. This time tomorrow you'll all be back in your rightful bodies and this'll be a funny story." He risked a glance in the mirror. A pale, wild, looking girl with red hair giant violet eyes stared back at him. His head span. Get. In. Get. Out!
With the room haphazardly dumped into Dyana's bags, Kieran peaked out into the hallway. Everyone was likely still at dinner or out on the town. The coast was clear. He headed for the stairs as fast as his stiff body would allow.   indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
| Members who added to this interactive story also contributed to these: |
<<-- Previous · Outline  · Recent Additions © Copyright 2025 swapped4u (UN: swapped4u at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Divine Bandit has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work within this interactive story. Poster accepts all responsibility, legal and otherwise, for the content uploaded, submitted to and posted on Writing.Com. |
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
More by this author