ALL NOVEL Book 3: 61. Uncharted
Fatima had been true to her word; the pain had subsided after a while. But the materialization of the agility stance wasn't without more prolonged consequences. It was minimal – just a whisper – but Aloe felt the healing on her pelvic area had regressed. In a single instant, she had lost days of healing, if not weeks.
As much as she wanted to curse at the princess, the scribe's pain wasn't met with indifference.
At the next day's audience, Fatima announced that she would be postponing her departure for a few days. She didn't need more words to transmit her intent, but behind closed doors, the cultivator admitted to giving Aloe a breathing room so they could practice the flowing stance once she was in better health.
The princess was at fault, there was no denying that, but Aloe's heart was flustered at the humanity shown by her. It almost made her think that the sultanzade were actual people.
Keyword, almost.
Her hate wasn't that superficial.
To believe that a sultanzade was a good person, was a defeat in and out of itself. But regardless of the pain, Aloe was able to perform her duties, and before the afternoon came, she had already forgotten the agility wound.
Next on her list of activities was… nothing. Her job as the scribe of commoners was to live day to day. Fayruz and Idris, whilst they didn't make much noise, were always there to assist her. She sensed constant sympathy and pity from the acquaintances of her mother, but Aloe wasn't stupid enough to refuse free help even if it battered her pride a bit.
Pride has gotten me more hurt than anything. She scowled at her desk. Though if I don't have my pride… what difference there's between a pet and a human?
That question occupied much of her afternoon, which she spent in her office evolving Flourishing Springs.
The more she grew her vitality, the harder it became to keep it in check. At first, she was dealing only with a grain of her true deposit, but now she had to keep handfuls of vitality away from her deposit to prevent it from filling up. She only expected this issue to grow more and more out of control as time went on. Especially once her deposit was close to sice of an adult's instead of thrice.
I fear I will have to fake reaping. This will not be sustainable in the future. It repulsed her the fact that she had to state she was raping people, even if it was a lie. Being believed to be a rapist was what she truly feared even if no harm fell unto people. Ah, the irony, the raped becoming the rapist. She laughed, for she would have otherwise cried.
Some may have said that reaping was not the same as sexually assaulting someone, Aloe had asked herself that question many times now, but it didn't matter if the intercourse itself was consensual.
What ensued wasn't.
People all across Ydaz were being pruned like shrubberies – or milked like cattle – without knowing it. They were paid or even accepted sex out of their own volition, but they were stolen of parts of themselves that they wouldn't ever recover.
They were stripped of their own chance at magic.
And that was what made Aloe's blood boil. A lady of the night may sell her body, but she wasn't selling her mind, heart, or even womb. Why should reaping be considered just when you stole from the one who you shared a bed with?
Anyone who thought like that should be ashamed of themselves, and Aloe was led to believe that was the consensus amongst sultanzade.
The cultivator evolved seeds that night until she lost consciousness.
Another day passed before Fatima appeared before her. The princess entered the commoner's office with her fanfare and might, but the moment the maid cleared the room, the worry was visible in the visitor's expression. Aloe was not innocent enough to believe that the sultanzade cared about her.
"Your aphrodisiacs will be delivered, you must not angst for them." The scribe explained in a diplomatic tone once the burly yet curvaceous woman sat down.
"That calms my mind." She shamelessly admitted that her worry had been material rather than placed on her pupil. "I will not deny that it has been hard to put to use the aphrodisiac in my hands."
Aloe arched her brows. "There is no lack of servants in the palace." The scribe didn't specify any gender, for she knew no sultanzade cared about such trivialities.
"We do not… share other sibling's servants," Fatima said. "You could call it honor amongst thieves. It is one of the few rules we abide between each other."
"Naila did not seem to have such an issue." The commoner's eyes were dead as fish's.
The princess chuckled. "This palace and its servants are as much as Rani's as Naila's. My little sister is not only the imperial scribe, but Regent Emir of Sadina. It is expected for them to share. Though I will reveal that it is quite easier to share between women than anything implying a man, whether it is only brothers or mixed siblings. Men and their seed… ugh, they get it everywhere." She shook her head at the image of her brothers' bodily fluids.
The petite scribe reminisced the day when she met Fatima and the princess had engraved quite strongly the image in her mind, for she only saw women in that image. Once again, it was not surprising that the sultanzade may favor women over men.
Aloe couldn't say she favored either.
Not anymore.
"And how have you been reaping these days then?" Aloe asked against her best interests. Curiosity was at its strongest when its origins were morbid.
"There are many ways," Fatima dedicated her a seductive smile, probably the same the whore used to rape others. "Mother has quite the reputation of leaving pilgrims… breathless, so people expect and seek the same treatment from her offspring. They are not common – because why settle with the appetizer when you could have the main course – but I see them from time to time. But no," she shook her head, "my favorite reaping method is making men and women out of nobles. The heirs are always the best delicacy."
It was maddening seeing Fatima smiling like that when she was talking about taking to bed untested virgins. On the one hand, it was disgusting; no person should feel such elation at sex, especially when it came to assault. On the other hand, it was one of the most beautiful smiles Aloe had seen.
And that only deepened her hatred for herself.
She hated herself for being this weak. For even letting herself be influenced by the many tricks of the sultanzade. For being human.
A lot of snarky remarks materialized in Aloe's mind, but she held them off. The leash may not be as tight as before, but it was present. If she wanted to bed nobles, then the better for her.
"Preferences notwithstanding," Aloe started, "have you come here for our lesson?"
"Indeed," Fatima nodded, though her eyes kept locked with Aloe. "Unlike with the agility stance, I expect no issue, well… not with your health."
Aloe frowned at the doubtful explanation.
"Do not get me wrong," The princess raised her palms in her defense. "All stances have a minimal degree of danger – some more than others, of course – but the problem with the flowing stance is that is quite… uncharted."
"You have mentioned this before, but what do you mean with uncharted?"
"The flowing stance is not like the other eight." Fatima lowered her arms and put them on the desk. "If your opposite stances theory is to hold any water, then the flowing stance is the one exception that confirms the rule."
Or perhaps because the number of stances is odd, and therefore there cannot be any counterpart to flowing... unless?
"I believe I have asked this question before," Aloe said, "but are there only nine stances?"
"Who knows?" The sultanzade placed her arms behind her neck and arched her back backward, exposing her chiseled abdominals and part of her underboob.
If it was an intentional gesture, Aloe was unable to discern it.
"It could be that there have been only nine stances discovered so far…" Here comes the but. "But the imperial family has been working at it for centuries. There is no exact science on the workings of Nurture, but the backlogged knowledge of centuries of applications is not to be underestimated."
If Aloe had learned something about the vital arts, it was that nothing was as simple as it seemed. There were many questions to be had about Evolution – more than any other vital art – and she always found new infusions if she tried to, so by the rule of three, there should be more Nurture stances if there were that many Infusion infusions.
"Enough speculation," Fatima clapped her hands, snapping Aloe from her thoughts, "let us start with the hard evidence and theory behind the flowing stance."
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