But for a Slime

“Please show the master your work.”

The man bowed several times again, “At once. Of course. Here you go, great eccentric!”

The man immediately held out an oddly shaped monster core, although it was still obviously a monster core. The core did nothing until mana swelled up from the artist’s core and into the oddly modified monster core. Mana swirled oddly inside of it as well, but somehow was beyond the perception of what Joe could comprehend. Despite that, it was fascinating and Joe focused on it until a large cube swirled into existence above the core. The cube in the air formed and began to take on color and shape until an image of a man formed before them, mostly from the chest and shoulders on up. Joe’s interest shifted from the mana and the core to the drawing… Drawing? Is it a drawing? Or … what do … you know what… just a drawing… or… painting. That’s fine. Joe focused on the painting within the cube of air above the core. Joe began to study it with some interest. He was surprised to find the drawing to be incredibly detailed and well-drawn in a very realistic style. Man… good use of 3D, understanding of shadows, lighting, distance… Joe looked up with some confusion on his face, curious at how well developed the understanding of three dimensional work on a two dimensional plane was here. The world didn’t show much advancement in other areas, especially in machinery or complex mechanical design. Granted, it wasn’t exactly directly related, but the two correlated quite meaningfully. There was also a noticeable lack of any meaningful art anywhere around the city. And even though that may be because of cost, the inner city of the clan members also proved remarkably barren of any significant art pieces, statuary or paintings and drawings.

Joe looked up and Gwenvair quickly laid a hand on his arm, “Would you like to compare it to the convicted?”

Joe glanced over at Gwenvair, then the artist again, surprised to see the artist to be quite pale. Joe wondered at that but looked back at Gwenvair as she seemed to be pressed for time. Gotta explore this later, I guess? But… how does this kind of art… Gwenvair was already moving and Joe found his thoughts disrupted as he followed after to look at the man who’d… Joe’s thoughts fritzed, spasming in rage as the remembrance of what had almost happened to Kilniara came to him and he froze in his steps, breathing deeply for a few moments before fighting against his rage, freezing and tamping it down underneath bitterly cold fury. OK… not as calm as I thought…

Joe’s nostrils flared a couple times but when Gwenvair’s arm rested on his, calm came to him in a sweeping wash as he breathed deeply and calmed. A small soft smile formed and he felt his equilibrium restore before he walked forward, continuing on. Obviously still pretty pissed… gonna have to calm down… relax a bit. Despite the anger’s rapid onset, Joe was able to walk forward, looking down at the man with eyes utterly devoid of any emotion as he glanced between the image and the man a few times.

Joe struggled against a cruel smile that wanted to form and the swelling anger which quickly calmed again as Gwenvair came to his side and rubbed a hand down his back. Joe took a deep breath and focused on comparing the faces.

“Good enough.”

He turned and walked away.

* * *

Gwenvair struggled to calm her flustered heart, Joe’s anger was muted, but the genuine rage he felt was still as pure as his concern for Kilniara. Such concern actually touched Gwenvair, happy to see that Joe really did care about Kilniara. Gwenvair had known he found both Kilniara and her attractive, but to know that his concern for them was genuine was … all encompassing. Joe’s control, was of course, too strong, hiding his thoughts as well as ever, but his actions were still quite revealing and she was able to Hear him quite well, which seemed odd to her. The dichotomy between his training and his youth was surprisingly endearing as well as his willingness to be Heard by her.

When she’d escaped towards the artist commissioned to paint the breeder, Joe followed quickly after and she struggled to still her own heart. The artist, however, proved more than capable of killing any meaningful mood between them and when he’d shown his work to Joe, she looked on with curiosity to see his judgment of the city’s greatest artists and crafters. Joe’s long stare at the work brought a smile to her lips as she struggled to keep her laughter in. To see his disdain of the work revealed much of his clan and family, and she found herself exhilarated to be able to see it herself.

He did look at it a bit too long, however, and the poor artist grew quite fearful of Joe’s response and she brought Joe’s thoughts to an end out of concern for the poor artist, directing Joe towards the convicted.

“Would you like to verify it with the convicted?”

Gwenvair pulled softly on his arm, pulling him towards the breeder and when Joe began following after, she glanced at the artist to see the man bowing gratefully to her. That should knock the crafter’s arrogance down several notches. Gwenvair was softly gleeful but turned back to the purpose of the moment before suddenly stumbling. She struggled, almost falling to her knees even as the hundreds surrounding Joe fell to their knees and faces. The stronger soldiers were able to maintain their feet under Joe’s Presence as it washed out, only for a second, barely a moment but it still dropped swaths of people across the entire agora.

Gwenvair looked back up at Joe to find him with eyes closed, but all could easily feel his rage as it washed across the entire city. Its violence was terrifying, yet, for her, was simultaneously protective. The heat of the rage passed almost as quickly as it rushed out, immediately replaced by ice cold fury, buried under a bitterly cold control that tamped out the rage in a rigid vice of utter certainty. Nothing would happen without his express intent. That complete conviction washed out with the cold rage and as the fiery rage brought a mind numbing terror, the controlled conviction brought a peaceful calm which perfectly highlighted the rage.

Gwenvair stood and quickly stepped to his side, obviously allowed to under his Presence. She stepped to his side and placed a hand on his back, calming him and sending peace through their as yet incomplete bond. The guards rapidly returned to their duty when Joe calmed, returning to peace eased by Gwenvair’s own ministrations. A sour smell wafted up across the stage and she grimaced in disgust as she looked towards the breeder. He cowed on the ground even as he relieved himself in fear, urine and feces pooling under him. Joe noticed none of this, and Gwenvair stared at him, his face frozen even as he stared at the man with dead emotionless eyes. Gwenvair shuddered, a little bit in fear, a little bit in awe, and very much in desire.

Joe looked at the man as the breeder raised his face to look at Joe, obviously forced to look up by Joe’s presence. He glanced between the painting and the breeder a few times before suddenly raging again, although this time without explosively sending out his Presence. She stepped forward again, rubbing him softly and calming him as best she could. He Heard her well, and calmed as well, but beneath it all, Joe’s rage only stilled. It did not dissolve.

“Good enough,” Joe spoke emotionlessly before turning away.

Gwenvair watched him go, then glanced down at the breeder to see the man once again huddling in a ball on the ground. Gwenvair rapidly turned away from the breeder and followed after Joe, feeling a bit concerned.

Joe stopped at that artist and handed back the painter’s core, “I’ll need dozens… hundreds more.”

The artist looked up to Joe, preparing to protest but immediately stopped when Joe simply ignored him, leaving him behind. Gwenvair was grateful for Joe’s restraint but her concern still drove her to Joe and she came upon him holding Kilniara in a hug. She rushed to his side and rested an arm on his back.

“Joe. Are you…”

Joe turned back to look at her, a pleasant smile on his face and he sighed, nodding, “Yeah. I’m OK. Just… the memory took me by surprise.”

Gwenvair immediately relaxed, the tension in her shoulders evaporating as her arms drooped slightly and she nodded, smiling. She Heard and found his emotions still not as calm as he normally was, but still returned to a control in which Gwenvair found relief.

“That was… perfect. You have shown yourself.”

Joe cocked his head sideways at her, seeming a bit confused but Gwenvair only chuckled. Joe may profess to poorly accomplishing certain tasks, but the training his family and clan had offered him proved much more excellent than he realized. It’s… how was he so well prepared? Martial combat, philosophy, training, ruling, economics… magic… ok… he is not perfectly well trained, but… he's still…

Joe’s confusion was interrupted by Kilniara leaping to him, wrapping her arms around him, “Thank you, Joe. It… means a lot that you are willing to do this for me.”

Joe’s confusion immediately disappeared and he turned to Kilniara and wrapped his arms around her, “I’m not sure what I did for you, but I will always take care of you. This… this is something I will always do.”

Kilniara giggled and buried herself deeper in Joe’s arms and Gwenvair sighed, happy to see it. She stepped forward to join the hug but was interrupted by an aid that arrived by her side.

“First in Line for Matriarch. We are ready.”

Gwenvair looked at the woman, then nodded. She turned, stepping forward to address the gathered crowds. It is time.

* * *

Kukurnal lazed at the side, bored. He was glad he could be here for Joe, but to arrive and see another head lopped off a stupid criminal wasn’t something he truly enjoyed. Stifling a sigh, and stared on as he watched the proceedings, opened by Gwenvair, then reported on by several criers as they reported the crimes and conviction by the Galgandar clan leaders of Coushar. After a good bell of preliminary details, the display finally drew to a close as Joe was called forward to pronounce his judgment. Finally… should be done soon. Couple words, snip of the head…

Joe began speaking and Kukurnal quickly found himself enraptured.

“I have been asked to offer my judgment of this man. He has been convicted and found guilty of … quite despicable crimes. Despite the horror he has brought upon me and mine, I still found myself in a quandary. My hatred is … justified. My rage is pure. His crimes proven, and the punishment more than warranted. Despite that, I struggle. Not because I fear bringing judgment on this man, nor am I too squeamish to do so. I have killed… killed… too much. And my people… more than you could possibly understand.”

Joe paused here with a sigh, shaking his head, and Kukurnal could feel the truth in those words and he shuddered to think what an eccentric would think is a lot. Joe’s silence highlighted the total stillness in the courtyard: no voice whispered, no clothing rustled. Everyone awaited with bated breath.