Orochi wished he could say how amazing or stunning the city was, but most of the time he found himself staring at the waists of adults blocking his view. The streets on the outskirts of Seabore were bustling with people going about their daily lives.
Women carried baskets of fruit on their heads, calling out to potential buyers. Children wove between the forest of bodies, somehow managing to dance through gaps with ease. Orochi did his best to keep Althea in sight, almost losing her if not for catching a glimpse of the unique fur coat she now wore. In fact, she had changed her appearance completely; the elf had given herself human ears to avoid suspicion with the remainder of the bandits flesh.
She became so worried he was falling behind that she almost took his hand. Orochi immediately pulled away. The message was clear. Here, he was a slave. A slave must be treated like a slave.
After fumbling for directions, which were finally given by a stranger who seemed tired of being asked, the duo arrived at Nightingale Inn. They were somehow more exhausted now than during their three days on the beach.
Nightingale Inn was nothing special. The building leaned slightly to one side but was held up by thick wooden beams that looked stable enough. Upon entering, a balding middle-aged man rubbed his greasy palms together, already anticipating the coin walking through his door. His eyes brightened at the sight of Althea, dimmed at the sight of Orochi, and brightened again when he looked back at her, flashing a yellow-stained smile.
"Well certainly haven't seen you around before, ma'am," he began, clearly reciting a line honed over years.
"We would like a room for three nights," Althea said, exactly as Orochi had taught her. They had argued earlier about lodging, and though Orochi wanted two rooms, this was the first time Althea had been adamant about not being separated from him.
The innkeeper's eyes darted to Orochi. "Only one…"
Orochi knew what he was implying. You want to share a room with your slave? Yet the steely glare from Althea made him think twice. Clearing his throat, he turned to ring up a tab and reached for a set of keys on the hook behind the counter.
"That will be five septims."
Coins jingled onto the counter as Orochi winced. When he told Althea to be quick, he did not mean rude. She would need lessons in interacting with the public at her new level.
The innkeeper did not care. Money was money. He pocketed the coins, handed over the keys, and waved them upstairs.
The room was exactly as expected. A single bed pushed into the corner, a nightstand, and a window that let in the salty air from the sea.
"So what is the plan now, young master?" Althea asked, wandering around the room, knocking on walls and floorboards as if checking for hidden panels.
"We originally came here to find me a teacher. But that will be pointless if we have no money."
Althea nodded. She closed the curtains, dimming the room, and sat on the bed to think.
"You have a plan, don't you, young master?"
Orochi raised an eyebrow. "What makes you say that?"
She shrugged lightly. "Because ever since you woke up, I have seen it. You have changed. You have dreams, ambitions, and most importantly… a plan to achieve them."
Orochi was silent for a moment. Part of him forgot she had technically been with him since the day he was born. He valued her, but he had not calculated how deeply she valued him.
"Yes, Althea, I have plans. I came here with a reason in mind. The Moon-Born family and everyone who wants me dead have had generations to grow their influence. To fight that, we will need our own power." His eyes drifted, recalling hundreds of lessons from his past life, all sloshing together in his mind. "Power is not something reached for by aiming high. One must be willing to stoop low enough into the mud to pick it up."
He looked her straight in the eyes. "It will not be a pretty affair."
Althea only replied with simple conviction. "You point, young master. I go."
Loyalty. Blind loyalty. Perhaps too blind.
"First, we must change our names. A slave master cannot call their property young master. For now, your name will be Thea."
"Thea…" She hooked a finger on her teeth, repeating it to herself, then giggled. "Thea. I like it. Can I name you?"
Orochi blinked, cautious. "Sure… as long as it is nothing ridi—"
"Ro!" she burst out, eyes twinkling.
"I think you have been holding that in for quite some time," he muttered, almost smiling. Almost.
"If it is not to your liking then…" Her expression instantly fell, lips trembling.
Sighing, Orochi surrendered, something he found himself doing far too often with her. "Fine. Ro it is."
Her radiant smile returned as she leaned forward eagerly. "So how are we going to make money, Ro?"
Orochi sat back, folding his arms. He had been planning this since the moment he read the maps and political texts about Agaloth.
"A factory."
Thea blinked. The word was foreign to her. "What is that?"
"A place where things are produced. We are going to sell a product."
"What will we be selling?"
To Thea it sounded like any merchant's beginning. Yet her confidence faltered when she sensed the darkness pooling behind Orochi's eyes.
Orochi leaned against the wall, meeting her gaze without flinching. "Humans. We will be selling humans."
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