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msitp · 9 months

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Chapter 4: In the Middle of Night

Unsure of where I stand currently, I quietly follow behind the bandit shorty. I don’t even see the point of asking his name; him giving a truthful answer seems unlikely. I can’t help tugging at my hair as I say my goodbyes to it as we walk. I don’t recall hair magic being often mentioned in the original story, but perhaps I just hadn’t gotten to it yet. Before I was thrown into this world head first. Practical wise it could just be sold to an artisan to do with what they like. Or this guy just has some sort of link to a hair fetish community; can’t help cringing at the thought of that. Staring at the back of his head where his own hair is messily tied back. It might need a comb but his hair is thick and wavy, it seems much nicer than mine.

As if feeling my eyes, he spares a glace back at me. “Whatever your scheming, can you stop before you stare right through me.”

I widen my stride to catch up to him, “What do you mean schemes?! I’m the one who was robbed and stranded thanks to you.”

“pft- Acting as if your so helpless. I’m still not buying’ it, or should I not count the wounds from that damn bird and you”. He lifts his crudely wrapped arm, practically shoving it in my face.

I can feel my face twitch as before I know it, we’ve begun bickering back and forth. Fighting proving a way to pass the time. The once quiet trek now noisy as we throw accusations back and forth until the sun begins to fall. I expect the bandit to stop but he pushes on, as it gets darker, I begin stumbling more unable to see the forest floor clearly now. I half expect this to be apart of some trick until a sudden flooding of purple light surround us. The dagger in his hand is the source of the light; he offers his other hand to help me up. I have no choice but to stick closer to him, often still catching my self on his shoulder when the roots of the trees trip me. The faint glow from the dagger helps but not enough to make travelling in the dark a real option. I begin to slow down feeling the deep need to quit moving and rest. His rough hand grabs my wrist and he stubbornly drags me further. It pisses me off but I’m getting too tired to care.

The moon comes into view as we come to a break in the trees, a small hut sits in the clearing just visible with the moonlight. A tired grunt of relief comes from him as he pulls me into the hut before finally letting me go. I sit down where I stand, while he uses the dagger’s glow to search for a proper lantern to light. The warm golden glow of a fire light stretches across me as he lights a fire pit in the center of the room. The hut proves bigger than I could tell in the dark, a neat fire place at its center. A hole in the top peak of the ceiling lets the rising smoke out as the fire begins warming the room. I still can’t quiet find the energy to move from my spot by the doorway. Perhaps I’ll find the will to crawl a bit closer to the fire and warm up, but my eyes feel heavy. A smack to my right shoulder only barley keeps me from falling asleep. I hear an annoying voice go from mocking to worried, followed by a sudden sense of weightlessness. When my head hits something incredibly soft everything fades to black.

The smell of something cooking rouses me from my deep sleep, a stinging ache follows not long after from my right shoulder. I bury my face further into the furs I’m lying in as I open my eyes, I shift in the fur cocoon I seem to be wrapped in. Trying to move my right arm shoots pain down my back, I let out a few curses looking around to place my pains blame on someone. Looking guilty the bandit stirs a pot that’s been placed over the fire. When my cursing subsides, he finally glances at me.

Casting his eyes back when our eyes meet. “I’d favour that side a bit, I had to stich you’ a few times. The pots nearly done cooking; I’ll help you up so you can have a bite.”

I’m somewhat taken aback by the sudden U-turn in treatment. He was the whole reason I’d ended up walking half a day through a un traveled forest. Why the sudden guilt now? Unsure of how much I could trust him I carefully sat up on my own, winching a few times when I moved wrong. My shirts are gone; I throw a suspicious glance in the bandit’s general direction. Then try to get a look at my shoulder, which had been covered in wrapping.

“Can’t listen to me for even a moment- Fine I get it, that’s fair. Don’t remove the bandages, the herbs I had to use on you aren’t easy to- “, he seems to stop himself glancing my way again.

If the pain in my shoulder and my tired legs didn’t leave me feeling so drained despite just waking up, I’d nearly want to laugh. This cocky bandit was channeling a puppy who’d just destroyed the couch. Though the couch in this case was my back, the very back I realised, that I’d thrown in front of a dagger. Ah, that’s why. If it hadn’t been due to his dagger, I’m sure he would have tried charging me for his nursing services. My throat feels dry as I try to speak, the guilty party scoops out a bowl and brings it over to the pile of furs I’m lying in.

I take a cautious sip the warm broth, “So you stab me, rob me and I get soup in return.”

“Well, you did jump in front of it, how was I supposed to know you’re a lunatic. Prioritize yourself next time, save me some trouble,” he grumbles but hovers around me. Dark circles around his eyes hint that I was the only one who got any sleep.

“Are you really blaming me?? You and your dumb friends were the ones who broke my ride.”

“If that damn bird hadn’t dived at me, I wouldn’t have even used my dagger!”

“Oh, do people not usually try and protect themselves. So sorry for putting up a fight,” my snarky voice seems to bring him relief as his shoulder begin to relax a bit.

“Division carriages never come this way, I guess me and my lads were a bit too eager. The first time it passed by there was clearly no one in it, I didn’t really plan on you being in there at all.” He doesn’t look my way but I assume this is the closest he gets to an apology.

I must admit, for experiencing a classic bandit robbery a few stiches weren’t the worst outcome for a helpless side character like me. The bandit leader next to me didn’t seem cut-out for the cutthroat role he was playing.

“How about, instead of just trying to steal from the division you go and get yourself recruited instead,” perhaps I can lead this young man on a better path; like a quest giving npc.

He retorts, “I was going to ask you to join my crew. Your sneaky cunning shouldn’t go to waste.”

His comment surprises me as I choke on the soup, “What do you mean by that, huh.”

“Ai don’t pretend to be all innocent now, I suffered first hand at your plots. The entire time we’ve been around each other the only time you showed me your back was to trick me! I might have noticed your wound sooner if you let your guard down for even a second.”

Now he’s back to scolding me? I really can’t get a grasp on this guy’s character at all. Perhaps unconsciously I did keep my right side away from him, but I’m not some crafty rouge. I’m supposed to be a comedic relief support character, at most I might end up in a few towers that my sister will have to save me from. I hand him back the empty soup bowl which he refills and begins to eat from himself, this hut must be one of their hideout spots only stocked with a few necessities.

“I have to ask, did you even leave your group a note.” He pauses the bowl leaving his lips.

“Leading any possible people out of the forest for a fee was a possible outcome. They shouldn’t be worried.”

“Oh yeah. Even though since we both got hurt, there might be blood all about the carriage site. Huh? Did you think of what that might look like to them?”

He looks at me wide eyed, “I really need you in my crew. You think of everything.”

“I’m scared of bugs; I wouldn’t last in the woods more than a day.”

“Ah come on, scared of a few butterflies,” he teases.

“Yes, I hate those little freaks. Disgusting, can’t stand them.” I speak firmly looking him straight in the eyes.

The laughter that bursts from him is childlike and reckless, he nearly spills his bowl as he falls to the floor. After we finish eating, he cleans up the pot and comes to lay down in the furs. He hands me a rather nice looking inner and outer shirt before closing his eyes as if to sleep. I carefully manage to get the clothing on, this time he knows better then to offer to help me.

“These threads are much nicer that the ones I was wearing,” I say aloud only half asking.

He opens one eye glancing at me, “The ones you were wearing had too much blood on them. Can’t bring you to town looking like that.”

I don’t see a reason to complain when he adds, “Those clothes are yours, you know. I took them out of your bag.”

Ah I had avoided going through the original Orion’s bag, I guess a spare change of clothes being in there is to be expected. The fabric is cool and smooth, what you would expect from an ex well off family’s son. I stay quiet for a bit and let the bandit rest for the remainder of the morning. I don’t waste my energy wandering around and stay sitting in my spot on the pile of furs; only when the sun seems to move higher in the sky do I disturb him.

“You might as well cut my hair and stash it while were here. How much farther is the nearest city? My legs might end up hurting more then my shoulder at the rate we were walking.”

He replies smoothly making me wonder if he was milking his nap for as long as I would let him.

“It’s just an hour away now, this hideout is right at the edge of the forest. If we hadn’t gotten here in the night, you might have been able to see the main Divisions Mountain in the distance.”

“Then come on. Give me my free hair cut and then I can get out of yours.”

He slowly gets up lazily moving he collects a few things before coming back to sit behind me. He does trim my hair; I’m relieved scissors exist in this world and he’s not just hacking away with his dagger. He doesn’t take nearly as much as I expect him to. Even taking the time to neatly braid and tie back my hair. It still falls a bit past my shoulders while tied, but I’m happy to have it completely out of my way. Sabine had seemed to find my messy attempt at tying it back an injustice to the long hair. So, she’d made a point of only tying enough to keep it out of my face and letting the rest fall prettily. The bandit’s method felt more practical, and I gave a few approving pats to my hair when he was done.

Seeming proud of his work he gave a few gentle tugs to the hair tie, “Now your hair suits my crew. Since you aren’t ‘anyone special’ to the Division just stick around.”

I could tell he was still curious about who I was to the Division, perhaps his incessant propositions were apart of getting me to talk. I stood up and turned to him, giving a spin I walked to the doorway. He let out a sigh but didn’t seem surprised at how I brushed off his offer.

“I might be nobody but I think I owe the Willow Division a thank you in person.”

“A thank you, what could they have done for you?” He gets up putting out the embers of the fire.

“I was sick and they helped” -I won’t mention it was at the request of the protagonist- “It seems like a group that just does that sort of thing. They can’t be all that bad.”

Finished packing up the bandit joins me at the doorway, “I’ll have to keep that in mind. Come on this way. If you’re going to keep tripping over every root just walk beside me.”

We chat comfortably now as we walk, he continues to try and scout me. I try selling him the idea that he seemed more then capable to try joining a different path. We even talk about the Division; he lives close enough to it he knows all the local rumours. I share a bit of what I know, trying my best to avoid mentioning my knowledge comes from the source material of this world. I guess the ordinary people don’t know much about what the Division does. Stories about how it’s a group full of powerful people who horde secrets seem to do the adventuring guild an injustice. Calling them well trained students who go around collecting information and solving the odd problem, is a much closer summary.

When we finally come to a well traveled rocky path. The mountain the division has carved its home into, rises from the tree line. It seems that the bandit takes me on a tour of the small cities’ outer limits, the town is the biggest I’ve seen. People bustling around the markets as vendors sell their wares. I have no desire to dive into such a busy throughfare but enjoy watching curiously from a distance. The bandit makes no move to part ways and seems to enjoy watching me stare around dazed at the city folk. Before I realise it, we spend a few more hours walking around before he delivers me right to the base of the mountain.

A Large carved gateway declares the entrance to the Willow Divisions head quarters, a few ornate looking roof tops can be seen peaking out from the moss-covered rocks and trees that occupy the edges of the mountain. I turn to offer a half sarcastic thank you to the bandit, but he has already gone without a word. I scoff, such a sudden disappearance suits him. Perhaps he’s rightly gained a fear of the danger pigeon delivery birds that live in the Division.

I stare a bit longer at the unfamiliar trees that smell rich and oddly comforting. I let out a heavy breath before walking past the gate and up to the guard house. Somewhere further in this mountain keep is the main protagonist of this world; as well as all her friends, suitors, and their troubles.

#my sister is the protagonist #msitp #MSITP #ongoing story #original story #writers on tumblr #isekai #portal fantasy #polyamory #queer story #queer writers #transmasc character #transmigration

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msitp · 9 months

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Chapter 3: A Man a Bird and A Hard Place

The ride is quiet for a long time; the peaceful sound of hooves crunching against dirt. I eventually drag myself out of my head and enjoy the beautiful forest as we pass through. The trees are much bigger than I’ve ever seen, the classic greens are mixed with vibrant and strange hues I’m not used to just seeing in passing. Nature here feels exotic and magical, as it burns under the setting sun. I take deep breaths and ground myself in this moment, not allowing any serious thoughts to keep their hold of me. My body still weighing my down as I try and ignore my mind.

The sound of wings and the gentle tickle of feathers wake me from a nap I hadn’t realised I slipped into. The horses have pulled off to what seems like a rest point, a familiar bird is glaring daggers at me from the window.

What am I supposed to do here? Do I tend to the horses? Probably not. They came all the way to me, seemingly on their own. I get up and step out, the small lanterns hanging from the carriage are the only source of light. How they glow on their own, I’ll just write off as some sort of fantasy bullshit. I walk over to the horses their large and sturdy bodies almost intimidating. A trough full of clean water sits to the side and a pile of grass and grains has already been laid out for them. Is there some magic pit stop worker around, or does the Division just have its tricks?

The horses both handsome brown mares’ glance at me between bites. Curious I give a faint whistle and the closest horse steps closer, lowering its snout to me. Unable to resist I slowly put my hand up waiting for her to get a good look at me, before I gently pat her long face. I feel like a cowboy bonding with a trusty steed; a stupid smile stretches across my face. I’m relieved no one is here to see me so excited, just from petting a horse. As if jealous at the attention the other mare also comes up and bumps me; I happily indulge the two with all the pats I can give.

After thoroughly doting on the two for their hard work; I go rummaging into the bag of supplies Sabine had packed me. Pulling out a meat pie, I sit near the horses stretching my legs out. The hawk comes swooping in, landing next to me. Ever overseeing it scans the dark.

“I’d give you a bit of meat, but I don’t know if seasoned meat is safe for you.” I pull out a small piece wiping some of the sauce off it. Holding it out, it sharply turns of its head to face me seeming hesitant. After a moment, it hop-steps a bit closer and takes the meat from me.

“Playing hard to get, but taking it in the end huh. Don’t suppose you’d want any pets this time.” Can hawks sigh? It sounds like it just huffed at me.

The night passes quite comfortably, the inside of the carriage is padded and warm. The hawk seems to keep watch as the horses and I sleep. When I wake the next morning, we are already back on the road. How the horses got re hitched I’ll just chalk up to more magic for plot convenience. I munch on a piece of fruit for breakfast. The dutiful hawk comes into the carriage, seemingly deciding to keep me company.

“You are the same birdie, aren’t you? I know the Division has a lot of messengers, but your glare feels distinct. Yours is the first face I saw since-.” It might be silly of me but having the chance to talk without a care, isn’t something I’ll be able to do once I’m reunited with the main plot.

“Since I woke up here. Is it too obvious hmm? Am I fitting in well for not having a clue what I’m doing? Or will I be punished for not being who I should. Will that sister of mine be heartbroken, that I’m not the brother she had,” a long sigh I had gotten used to holding escapes.

I know a glorified chicken isn’t going to be able to help me. Yet talking out loud seems to ease my worries, keeping them from becoming overwhelming me again. The chicken in question, also acts as if it’s thinking seriously about my raving. I can’t resist its cute reaction, lightly brushing a finger over its head. It goes stiff but doesn’t peck or squawk at me, so I test my luck and give it a few more light strokes. My chest feels much lighter and I can’t help chuckling at the disappointed glare it gives me when I pull my hand away.

“Thank you, clever birdie. If you ever want more head pats, I’m always available,” more laughter escapes as it ruffles its feather acting offended.

The day goes by slowly, we pass through a few smaller villages and rest briefly now and again. We enter a densely populated forest, the trees here are thin and dark. The road becomes smaller as we pass less and less travellers. I don’t doubt the horses know their way and lounge on the carriage seats with the hawk.

A loud crack suddenly cuts through the silence and the carriage comes to a sudden crashing halt. Both me and the bird fall out of the seat and into the floor. The horses start making a ruckus. The shouts of men also rise. Worried for the mares I quickly get up, peaking through the driver window. The horses have been cut from the cart. Two rough looking men are trying to keep a hold of the two but their bucking and lashing keeps them from getting hold of them. Sensing an opportunity one horse suddenly charges. The space the men make to avoid her, allows both horses room to break into a full sprint. Relief briefly washes over me as I watch the cloud of dust the two make as they disappear down the weaving path. The two men quickly hop onto their own hidden mounts but the strange gangly beasts they ride don’t seem likely to be a match for the strong Division horses.

The sound of hooves is soon swallowed by the dense forest surrounding us. There’s no chance any sort of bandits would leave the carriage unchecked. With hawk beside me, we both tense as the carriage door is opened. Not wasting a moment hawk dives at the invader the moment he appears. Not having a chance to take note of my presence the man barley raises his arms in time to spare his face from the talons that are stabbed towards him. A glint catches my eye, a dagger with a strange aura unsheathes itself from the man’s waist. The bird is too busy digging his claws into his arms to notice the threat that dives their way. I’m unsure how my body reacts as quickly as it does but I manage to get my body around hawk snatching him out of the path of the dagger.

A slight stinging feeling creeps into my right shoulder, I must have pulled something from moving so fast after being stagnant so long. The bandit also stumbles back holding his bleeding arm as his dagger hovers protectively at his side. With the faint smell of blood in the air I clutch hawk close to my chest, the bandit and I exchange glares. I’m rather annoyed at the man that sneers at me, his face handsome despite the layer of grime. His eyes shine with a cocky defiance as he sizes up me and the fidgeting bird in my arms.

“If you give me the bird and whatever else you got in that box on wheels. I’ll make your ransom cheaper,” the smirk he flashes makes it seem like he’s offering me a great deal. I can’t stop the twitching of my brow at his audacity.

I scoff, “Sorry to be the one to tell you but the most valuable thing’s from the carriage were the ones who were dragging it.” I take some pleasure in watching his smirk slightly falter.

“Bullshit, no one gets to ride in one of these carts if they aren’t worth something,” his eyes are quickly moving across me again.

This time instead of evaluating threat he seems to be gauging my worth. Slight annoyance is apparent as his eyes keep returning to hawk. Whose screeching has practically become a hiss, as it glares from my arms. I’m in -what I assume- is humble cloth that Sabine had given me. I must be disappointing to look at, as he accidentally tightens his grip on his bleeding arm. The moment he winches from his carless action, my eyes are drawn to the movements of the dagger. As he winched the aura around the blade seemed to dimmer slightly, losing its place in the air by a few inches.

An idea begins to form in my mind, “I’ll give you my bags, it should be clear I have nothing to fight you with.”

I take a cautious step back towards the carriage, he arches a brow following but not stopping my movement. I don’t push it too far only reaching into the compartment for the bags, I pull out the snack bag first tossing it at his feet. His eyes dart from me to it, the dagger stays pointed in my direction. I reach back for the bag the original left behind, whispering to the hawk as I do so.

“This time I’ll distract him, you fly away,” the hawk in my arms goes quiet from shock; clearly having understood me.

When I pull this bag out the bandits’ eyes seem to shine a bit. The make of this bag is much better than the snack bag; which he’s already emptied out in the time it took me to turn around. Acting as if this bag is too heavy to throw, I leave hawk in the carriage. Passing the bag directly allows me to get right up to him. Before he pulls away bag in hand, I dive at him. The sound of wings taking flight behind me, blends with the bandits startled yelp as I big my nails into the cuts on his arm. I twist to check but the dagger still attempts to pursue hawk. The bandit up close might be shorter than me but his strength is no joke, as he quickly takes hold of both my arms. He is distracted, trying to keep track of hawk in the sky while wrestling with me. Since I’m unable to keep scratching I go to my next option. Using our proximity, I plunge my teeth into the only exposed skin not protected by his leather armour; his neck. The dagger falls from the air, as the bandit lets out a startled yelp. His focus turns fully on removing my teeth from the soft flesh of his neck. I hold on long enough, by the time he’s peeled me off him and pinned me to the ground; I see no sign of hawk in the sky.

I let out a breath, stopping my struggling. The bandit keeps me tightly pinned making sure his legs have my arms trapped at my side; mouth also a safe distance from him. He stares at me with wide eyes his hand on his neck, seemingly quite stunned by my display. The dagger doesn’t return to hovering, it’s been proven his own strength is enough to take me. He sits on top of me too shocked for words.

Assuming I’ve dug myself quite the grave I don’t bother holding back my tongue, “I told you I wasn’t worth anything. Do you believe me now? I’m worth less then a pigeon.”

“You really shouldn’t be so proud of that, you damn crazy fool,” he rubs at his neck while shaking his head.

“Well either way if you’re going to kill me, just get on with it.”

He blinks at me aghast, “Who’s going to kill you? I’m a thief not a murderer.”

“You were going to stab my bird,” I huff.

“A dead bird is still worth at least a meal, your worth even less dead. I don’t want to waste more of my time burying you”, the smirk makes a return to his face.

I attempt to brake out of the vice grip his legs have me in, to no avail. Ah well its was curiosity more then anything. He seemed pleased with himself despite having gained nothing from his carriage heist.

He let out a laugh, “Are you really, worth nothing? I thought with that long pretty hair of yours you’d be some noble’s bastard at least.”

I looked at him stone faced, “If my hair is so valuable then take it, it’s a pain to have anyway.”

“You’re joking.”

“I’ll trade some hair for not having this conversation between your legs.”

He stared at me again, seeming scandalized by my choice of words. Reaching out he slowly runs his fingers through a lock of my hair. I could see the math calculations hovering around his head. Finally, he stands up, releasing me from his vice thigh grip.

“Deal.”

I blinked, “Wait. Really? If its that easy, what kind of thief are you.”

His smile is like that of a cat still cleaning canary off its lips, “If you don’t know the value hair like yours has, that’s my gain. If you give up your bags, I’ll even escort you out of my woods.”

This brat, acting like he’s won again. Does he fancy himself bandit king? He can’t be older than me, what’s he got to be swaggering around about. He happily collects my bags, while calling his dagger back to its sheath without a sound. He takes a moment getting his baring’s as he stares at the suns place in the sky, before heading off in a direction off the path.

I don’t follow easily, “Don’t you know how paths work.”

He is quick to quip back, “Haven’t you heard of a short cut.”

#my sister is the protagonist #msitp #MSITP #ongoing story #original story #writers on tumblr #isekai #portal fantasy #polyamory #queer story #queer writers #transmasc character #transmigration

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