POV Alexandra
Slightly staggering, Alexandra descended to the lower floor and walked down the hallway.
The glass flasks were sweating, and droplets of water ran down the tiles. The girl pushed open the door, bent down slightly, and stepped inside.
She was hit by warm, humid air. Her head spun from the incense, which smelled like the sweetness of wine. She hiccupped loudly, lowered her gaze, and mumbled:
"I shouldn't have drunk so much... ugh..."
The mercenary rubbed her stomach. Although her belly felt a bit uneasy and her body soft and unsteady, there was no lump in her throat. So, no vomiting today...
"I need some cold water," she decided. "I'll cool off first, and then I'll get into the hot one. Oh-ho-ho..."
The mercenary hiccupped again and looked up.
In the center of the room was a large round pool. A stone staircase led into the water; blue reflections danced on the vaulted ceiling. To the left was a smaller, rectangular pool, and to the right, a stone shelf heated by a brazier filled with rocks.
Alexandra splashed through the small puddles as she headed towards the round pool.
She removed her sword belt, untied the straps on her bundle, and pulled off her clothes. Then the girl knelt and scooped up some water with her hand.
"Cool... just what I need," Alexandra said with relief. "Ah!"
Without bothering to use the steps, she slid right into the pool. The water burned her skin, gripping her chest and stomach with an icy hold. She surfaced for a moment, panting, then submerged herself again. This time, the water felt warmer.
"Good, ah, that's good!"
She felt the bottom step with her foot and stood on it, the water reaching up to her neck. Alexandra felt refreshed. The alcohol buzz left her head, replaced by a ringing emptiness.
After standing there for a couple of minutes, the girl climbed out of the cold pool and headed to the hot one. Near it, she found two bath sets—fragrant soap, robes, towels, and sponges. Alexandra sat down on the floor and dipped her legs into the pleasant warmth. She slowly wet the sponge, picked up the bar of soap that smelled of spring flowers, and began to lather her body.
Then, for a long time, with a sort of masochistic pleasure, she scrubbed herself with the coarse bristles, scraping off layers of sweat and grime.
'Amon shouldn't have refused,' Alexandra thought disappointedly. 'I would have given him a massage, helped him deal with fatigue, and recharge for fighting that cursed evil. He would have appreciated my care, just as he valued my combat skills.'
The girl smiled slightly.
"In the desert, Amon praised me for my swordsmanship, for striking the tail of the girtablilu. And it really was a good hit, I'd even say—perfect!"
Alexandra recalled her half-pirouette, the precise movement of her legs that gave the swing both power and speed, and her smile widened.
The knight knew his way around swordsmanship. He immediately noticed her favorite technique, which she had been perfecting for five years—clumsily at first, with constant mistakes, but then better and better, until it became a decisive argument in any fight. Just like that!
"How lucky he isn't attracted to the beauty of dumb monsters!" the girl said aloud. "Who cares about a face, or, well, an udder," she drawled, glancing at her flat chest. Her smile faded. "As if everyone has to be beautiful! Amon looks deeper. He's not a boy or a teenager, but a grown man, a warrior, a knight! What did he say about his future wife? Hmm... The most important thing is that she's worthy and loyal. And a warrior... Sounds just like me! I'm a warrior, and a good one at that! The Order trained me well, at least I can thank them for that..."
"Am I worthy? Definitely worthy!"
The girl tensed and felt her muscles. As a warrior, she took pride in her lean figure. Her strong body was hardened in battles and marches. But as a woman...
"I shouldn't have suggested we part ways," the mercenary said sadly, and then immediately added, "But Amon didn't take offense! He trusted me and shared his secret! That means I'm worthy. Plus, we've only just begun our journey; there will be time to prove myself. I'll show him, I must and I will!" She punched the water's surface, as if wielding a sword.
The girl set aside the sponge, rinsed off the grime and soapy foam. Then she scrubbed herself again, this time without the sponge, just with her hands, and started washing her hair, letting down her long ponytail.
Ten minutes later, the girl climbed out of the pool, dried herself with a towel, and wrapped herself in a robe. Alexandra climbed onto the stone shelf, closer to the brazier, and began to dry off. She stared at the stones in the brazier, and without realizing it, got lost in thought, listening to the crackling of the gray-red coals.
***
Flashback
It had been over eight years since the girl left the lands of the Order. Alexandra first traveled to the Justiciar Empire, where she lived for about a year, or perhaps a little less, working as a simple guard. But, as the saying goes, you can't hide a needle in a sack, let alone a sword.
Soon, rumors spread through the nearby villages about a brave girl, her battles with bandits, and aggressive monsters. Alexandra was promoted to decurion and was on the verge of becoming a centurion, but she fled just in time.
Despite her simplicity, the girl understood very well—too much attention would attract the Order. Especially considering what she had done in the underground crypt…
From the Justiciar Empire, Alexandra arrived in the Cog Caliphate, and from there, she made her way to the Emirate. The southern states greeted her coldly. A female warrior caused confusion, and sometimes aggression. Whether she liked it or not, Alexandra had to move to the Shimor Islands, where she eventually settled.
The girl fought local monsters, most of which she left alive. Over time, the mamono learned their lesson from her sharp steel and stopped attacking people mindlessly, leaving Alexandra with almost no jobs. So she boarded the first ship she could find, with a suspicious captain and an equally suspicious crew, and sailed to Al-Gord.
***
"Good thing I wasn't afraid to come to this pirate's nest," Alexandra thought peacefully. "Had I chosen differently, I would've missed meeting the knight. Lucky me!"
The girl ran her hand through her hair. Making sure it was dry, she stood up, removed her robe, and tossed it by the pool. She then put on her pants, shirt, pulled on her boots, and bent down for her belt.
The edge of the fabric covering an object flipped open. From underneath peeked a torn piece of metal, etched with ancient symbols. Alexandra froze, staring at the jet-black steel. She thought she heard something—some faint sound at the edge of her consciousness.
The mercenary bent lower. The sound grew louder. Now she could make out an indistinct word, spoken in a muffled voice in an unknown language. The symbols wavered and blurred before her eyes.
She wanted to look away but couldn't, and the symbols began to move, writhing like fat worms. The voice grew clearer—low, male—and then joined by a pure childlike voice, then a melodic female one, and more, and more—hundreds, thousands of voices, whispering the same word. The symbols flowed into each other, weaving into threads…
Then it all ended, as suddenly as it began. The girl shook her head and quickly covered the steel with the fabric. She hadn't seen anything like that, not even when… never mind. The mercenary tied the straps around the bundle tightly, as if immobilizing a dangerous enemy, and slung it over her back.
"Overheated," she said aloud and headed to her room.
***
Alexandra climbed upstairs, passing through the hall. A servant sat on a couch, his head slumped to his chest, peacefully snoring. In his hands, he held a copper bowl with a small candle. The flame flickered, but the sleeping servant didn't notice the cool draft at the floor.
Alexandra looked around for an open window, but all the shutters were locked. The mercenary cast a glance toward the corridor.
"The doors are open," she realized. "Since when do expensive inns leave their doors unlocked at night?"
A sense of unease crept into her. The girl half-drew her sword. She ascended the stairs, looking around and listening for the slightest sound.
Not a single noise disturbed her ears. And that was bad, very bad, because a silent ambush meant a professional ambush, and the chance of surviving a surprise attack was nearly zero. Fortunately, Alexandra managed to reach her floor and get to her room without catching a crossbow bolt.
The mercenary had barely exhaled when she suddenly heard a soft girl's voice coming from Amon's room.
"A woman! Where from?! That's mamono!" flashed through her mind. The girl instantly drew her weapon and kicked the door open.