For Ada and Henry it was a return, for Milton and Rennard a new place,
but they emerged out of the tunnel unlocked by the Compass. Ada could feel the
magical gateways and opened it herself, thus they left the Compass with Ester,
not taking this key into their world back out. The population was terribly defenseless
now.
Milton and Rennard ran up to the tarn, assessing surroundings, while
Henry and Ada had a moment of remembering. Although they had not been under the
mountains for long, that time was spent with the genuine fear of death, belief
in how they might not see freedom and a spread of skies above them again. And
to arise from that, they did with a newfound appreciation. Especially Ada, who with
a visit to her old human perspective allowed her to enjoy the giant size again.
Ada was clad in what she’d descended into the tunnels with, the brown sleeveless
dress reaching her knees and with the backpack slung behind her. The Richwood
symbol was embroidered between the bosom. But to say Ada looked the same would
be a lie. Now she was revitalized, eyes back to function, skin vivid and pale
with the caramel sunburn effaced. Even her hair had a sheen to it, the shades
of brown and yellow resplendent under the sunlight.
“How do you plan on taking us home?” Milton asked her.
“By walking there.” Ada explored her throat again with her fingers. “I
no longer carry the offgiant’s mark. Pure giants can enter Humius. And you’ll
be safer with me.”
“What do you plan on doing afterwards?” Henry said.
“I’m not sure.” Ada stared over the ridgelines. “I’m thinking of those
islands Leeman mentioned, just off the coast to the southeast, where there’s rumors
of offgiants fleeing to, where they’re free and build a life for themselves.
That might be something to pursue. Come.” Ada kneeled, placing Henry on her
left shoulder. She presented her palm to Milton and Rennard. They stepped on
it, Ada giving them her right shoulder to share. They were not entirely
comfortable like Henry, and only Henry asked Ada questions which concerned her
own wellbeing.
With tufts of her hair for the boys to hold onto, Ada began the march.
“A straight south is the plan, right?”
“Yes,” Rennard said.
“Once we get to Humius, we shouldn’t have any trouble making our way
around.”
“Also, a new dress for me.” Ada patted the embroidery between her breasts.
“This is the denomination for the lowest ranks. It would surprise some to see
it on one without an offgiant’s rank. For the perceptive, I will draw
attention. We don’t want attention.”
“Aren’t you all-powerful now?” Rennard said. “That goddess-character’s
strength was something else. If you’ve inherited that, then it’ll take far more
than average border guards to stop you.”
“You three aren’t the only ones concerned with a quiet leave.” Ada
balled her hands together. “As much as I can feel this power, it is mysterious.
I am a fledgling. A giant in Richwood clothing charging towards the border in a
magical onslaught, that’ll get plenty of attention, and it won’t leave me
alone.”
“To be fair,” Henry said, “they would treat you much better now. A pure
giant, with unique, never-before-seen powers.”
“There’s a select few who know me there. They’ll wonder how I got rid of
the mark, what’s happened. It’ll be riddled with suspicion. Even if I wanted to
find allies in Gintessa, powerful ones even, I would be hopeful over that
prospect.” Ada crested a hill, the step she took off it a pronounced kick, her
teeth clenched. “But no. I don’t want allies who only care for my power, for
what I can provide them. Damn these self-serving, walking mountains of
arrogance.”
Rennard nodded solemnly. “Amen to that.” Ada tramped on a while longer.
A calm stream prompted the suggestion of a short break before the journey ahead
of them. There, as the three boys drank and spoke some, Ada felt a bit of
hunger. Her mind went to the many fruits growing under those mountains.
Something pointy prickled her right foot, underneath the arch. She
pulled her foot away, revealing a rough, wooden stalk. Even with her foot
removed, she felt it, like an ethereal rope tied between it and this new sense
she had. Ada contacted the rope, not letting go. With her attention thrown like
a spotlight towards it, she strengthened its presence in her mind, and her
attention was like nourishment. The stalk poked out, at first like a thin,
wooden finger, but then the branches emerged from its increasing thickness,
leaves unfurling.
“Woah.” The three boys turned, watching it pillar higher, and higher,
and yet higher, beyond a normal tree, and amongst its branches, oranges grew in
ample clusters. Just as the tree continued beyond the normal, so did the
oranges, reaching the size of watermelons.
Another exclamation of awe from the boys brought Ada back. Having lost
her concentration, she’d poured her attention on it, letting it get out of
control. The orange tree froze, tall as Ada herself, the bunches of melon-sized
oranges weighing its branches down.
“You meant to do that?” Milton called out.
“Uhm, sort of.”
“Well, lunch is sorted.” Using their base magics, they scaled the trees
like monkeys and helped themselves to the oranges. Ada ate them as well, their
small size compensated for by how plenty they were. They were ripe and
luscious.
“Providing food like this,” Milton said between bites. “Its value cannot
be measured.”
“Yeah.” Ada bit her lips, as nervous as she was excited. Many would be
interested in her, in ways which might overlook her own wishes.
Everyone readied to move on, Ada seating them on her shoulders again.
Rennard said, “Helga, she was interested in building a force under there. Nurture
her own giants, then storm the world up here. She preached about her kindness,
but I could feel the same old power-hungry, bloodthirsty bitch behind that
visage.”
“She was calculative, despite her strength.”
“No wonder,” Henry said. “She perished with a punch in the right place.
Funny how, despite all her cautiousness, she was arrogant in just the wrong
time. She could have easily kept her forehead out of reach.”
Ada swiped her fingers over her forehead, watching her forearms. “I
don’t know if it’s appeared the same way on me. I swallowed it.”
“That seems far better. No obvious weak point. Only downside is you
didn’t get the whole thing.”
“I…” Ada smiled. “I can live with that. It would be an aristocrat’s
entitlement not to.”
Their march continued for the rest of the day, Milton and Rennard
recounting their encounter with the Charmer, the thirst and duress she put them
under to ensure her charming magic worked, the outlandish experience of their
bewitchment, to genuinely believe the Charmer was everything. Rennard was shyer
with the details while Milton divulged the domination they endured.
They left the lush mountains and the sunrocks upon them, left the hilly
landscape, and arrived at the fields. Henry and Ada could see the avenue they’d
entered through, the property where the lady with her hurt child hollered for
help, where they’d gone after the three mages.
Ada skirted the farmlands. A giant exited the village through a main
pathway, checking her satchel and arranging several letters. A mailwoman. Ada
approached her and asked directions, the quickest route to Humius, how long was
left. She told them the quickest path southeast crossed emptier forests, taking
less than two days, but outlaws were known to have taken residence thereabout.
The one which went straight south took between two to three days for the
mailwoman, but was safer. Grateful, Ada left her.
“Southern one, I’m assuming?” Ada said.
“Yes. We could make it faster too with you using my energy.”
Ada patted her thighs. “I feel fine so far. I think my constitution in
general has seen a blanket improvement.”
Rennard watched the giant houses, the paths, the civilians ambling
about. “It’s fine for us to just waltz around here?”
“Of course,” Ada said.
“Feels strange to see so many of them casually pass. Not one giant has
turned out an ally so far.”
Ada cleared her throat.
Rennard had to concede. “Enemy turned ally, indeed. For once, it feels
good to have the big legs walk for us.” They crossed the village through the
concourse cutting across its middle. The idea of not drawing too much
attention, of staying hidden, it dissolved halfway through as not many spared
them more than a glance. Rennard and Milton understood how average they
appeared to the rest, how few reasons there were to stop or even bother them.
Out the village, Henry suggested sprinting using his energy. The three
boys held firm in the space between her rucksack and upper back, holding her
dress, and Henry planted his palms on her, linking his stamina. Ada pulled the
rucksack close to sandwich the boys against her back, then ensued her jog. Her
feet pounded the unpaved road for over an hour until Henry called it. Milton
and Rennard returned to her shoulders, while Henry lay on her palms, resting,
enabling them to cover distance still.
“At this pace, we should make it across the border by tomorrow,” Milton
said. “I still can’t believe it.” Ada marched all towards sunset. The residents
at the next village provided them with water. Then they followed the path a way
out and snook off by the roadside, finding a brief clearing under the tall
birch trees. There Ada put the rucksack down, sighing.
“Henry, isn’t it your turn to tell us about your journey?” Milton asked.
And Henry did, detailing the bounty hunter he met right after Milton and
Rennard were kidnapped, the encounter with the Charmer’s servant, the
teleportation, the Richwood ‘hound’ that came after him… and then his details
were elusive, scattered, and incohesive. He dodged questions.
Ada entered the conversation from where she sat against a tree. “He
isn’t telling the truth. I wandered those mountains after you blasted my face,
was found by Richwood people. One of their healers managed to salvage some of
my sight, otherwise I would have been fully blind. I told them three humans
from Humius had come and attacked me. I lied, made myself the victim, let their
hounds use the scent of my pussy to locate Henry and bring him in. In the
arena, I fought against Henry, won, and my prize was to receive him as a slave.
He is officially my slave.”
Henry was abashed, seeing his friends processing the story.
Rennard said, “And in which part of this did you start becoming friends?
How have you changed so much?”
“After that, our time together was pleasant. But I felt guilty, I knew
all of it was built on actions I couldn’t defend, and truth be told, I had
nothing. I was in no position to be charitable. That can explain, but not
justify, the things I did. And when I became small, what terrified me the most
of being a half-blind, magic-less human, was that I felt I could never repent. My
humility would mean nothing, my good deeds would mean nothing, my kind words
empty. Is she nice because she’s powerless? Those doubts would never end, it
would seem false. But now I might be one of the most powerful giants,
individually. Returning you home after I did what I did is the least I can do,
and to be kind now, from this position, it is sincere. It means something. I
apologize for everything.”
The somber tone overwhelmed them, unsure of how to respond at first. Milton
and Rennard nodded to one another.
“At first, I put all my trust into Henry,” Milton said, pointing to his
friend. “But if he were gone now, I would have no qualms trusting you. Don’t
ask for an apology, you have more than made up.”