Unconquered Pt. 06

But it was not merely the spirits and the fae of the deep Sunder who had come to the goblin market to trade.

Red robed factors from the distant courts of the Gyognorian islands, their faces plated in solid gold to prevent a single emotion from being shown, came to stalls that sold soul-eaten slaves. Spider limbed mutants culled from the Deserts of Glass, their bodies still sprouting the foot long black shards from the storms that had mutated them, haggled with goblins over automatic crossbows and mage bombs. And there was at least one Locust Person, sitting in a bar, glaring at Ember as if Ember owed him something.

Or her something.

Ember wasn't entirely sure what the Locust Person was, as the only reason he knew they were a Locust Person was because Goat had scowled and muttered 'fuck, a Locust.' The Locust was actually one of the last exotic beings in the Market: They were two armed, two legged, had a head. Their face was concealed behind a pig-like snout of rubber and metal that ended in a circular nozzle that seemed to be what they breathed through. Scratched, red lenses were set above their eyes, while a coal-miner's helmet was strapped to their head, and a long leather trench coat hung around their shoulders. They had a pistol sized crossbow strapped to their hip and had fingers wrapped in leather. Despite the fact their mask covered their mouth completely, they were holding a glass that had been given to them by the goblin bartender. It seemed they drank it by just...thinking at it hard enough.

"Are you sure this is the right place?" Ember whispered to Goat.

"Mostly," Goat said, shrugging one shoulder.

Ember sighed and tried to feel masculine. It was hard, though, when his body and his shinima both had a great big feminine piece jammed into it. That was, in and of itself, more frustrating the longer it went on. Partially because he was at least ninety percent certain that he'd have enjoyed trying out being a woman. But not like this. He pressed his thighs together, hated the lack of feeling he was used to, and looked back at the Locust.

The Locust was still glaring at them.

"...Goat, why is the Locust looking at us like we owe it something?"

"I dunno," Goat said, then grinned.

A fae was emerging from the crowds. Ember flicked a glance over to where Xora was sitting and trying to look as inconspicuous as possible. He wouldn't have believed it possible, considering she was huge and muscular and beautiful. But Xora had thrown a set of robes over herself – borrowed from one of the passing merchants who had been so focused on their haggling that he hadn't had a chance to spot Xora snatching it and leaving behind a few gold coins. Those robes, plus her assuming a hunched posture, meant that she looked like a massive pile of robes wrapped around something indescribably evil and terrible.

Which, in the Goblin Market, were a dime a dozen.

The fae they had come to meet, the fae that Chirp had picked out, took their seat across from them. They were ice blue, with a beehive mound of hair that looked as if it might actually be a hive, considering the faintly ominous buzzing that kept escaping from it. They were dressed in a long, silver robe that flowed around their body with enough distance to render any attempt to place their gender almost impossible. Even their hands were covered with silver – silver gloves, which clinked and clattered as the fae placed their hands on the countertop. The gnarled wood that served as the table rasped oddly against the silver, as if the two items weren't supposed to be touching and the world knew it.

"So," the fae said. "I've been told you have something of immense value to trade with the one known as Greeter?"

"Yes," Ember said, inclining her...his head. "Greeter buys and sells genders, right? That's what our information said."

"Your information is correct," the fae said. "But before we continue: I am Broker. Who are you?"

"I'm Sifu," Goat said.

"I am Student," Ember said.

Broker inclined his head ever so slightly – the intonation of his voice made it clear to Ember, in a bone deep, definitely magical sort of way. "I see you understand the ways of the Market," he said. "Greeter, though, claims that he has access to a very potent set of he hims. What will you be trading?"

Ember reached into his belt pouch, and then withdrew the small, white furred drakhul bat that was Chirp when they were in their animal form. Sitting on his palm like a white puff of snow against the crimson of his skin, they spread out their wings and let out a tiny 'chirrup' noise. Their nose flared outwards, and their tiny fangs glittered in the pale firefly light of the Market. Broker put his hands to his face and let out a soft 'ohhh!' - then reached down and gently brushed his finger along Chirp's belly. Ember noticed, very faintly, a flicker of silver light along the back of Chirp's wings and managed to hide a grin.

If he could pump his magical prowess into climbing, leaping, lifting and throwing, why couldn't Chirp be magically adorable?

It's not like they needed much help.

Broker lifted his eyes to Ember. "I...this is a remarkable specimen, but..."

"We shall sell this bat's gender," Ember said, quietly. "In exchange for Greeter's gender."

"The value..." Broker rubbed his chin. "I have examined many genders in my time – but the equivalence is hard to quite measure out here. This bat is very cute, but...not quite on par with the masculinity that Greeter got."

Ember scowled, then slammed his palm down on the table. "You think-"

Goat placed his palm on Ember's shoulder "No, student," he said – his voice reedy and soft, as if he was a wizened old man. "You must know that sometimes, when equivalence cannot be attained, sometimes, quantity must be found instead." He turned his head to Broker, his eyes unfocused. He actually managed to look as if he was a blind old man – and Broker seemed to smirk slightly at that. "Perhaps we could exchange the bat's gender for several genders of lesser values. Do you know Greeter's stock?"

"His stock is quite plump," Broker said, his voice becoming wry. "Many people come without being aware of the trick..." He sighed, then lifted his palm. His fingernails glowed, then projected beams into the air above his hand. Where those beams intersected, an orb appeared, and the orb was covered with small glyphs. Ember read a few of them as they swirled by – they were mostly gender symbols. He nodded. "There's a broad range: Hes, theys, shes, xirs, zirs-"

"We'd like to purchase...five hims," Goat said. "Two hers and a they."

Broker snorted, softly. "You ask for too much, old man."

"We're asking for a fair trade!" Ember snapped, and slammed his palms back down on the table again, half standing up. He had to exercise a great deal of effort to manage to look very growly and glarey without also making his anima flare. It was nearly as hard as keeping his own pronouns straight. Or, in this case, queer. Broker pursed his lips ever so slightly.

"Very well," he said. "I will buy your they for four hims, one her and a xir."

"They or no deal," Goat said, placing his hand on Ember's shoulder and gently pushing him back to his seat – just as they had planned.

"I don't understand this," Broker said. "You already have a they..." He nodded to Chirp, who seemed to be enjoying her role as 'definitely a normal drakhul bat.' They were currently curled up into a tiny ball of chalk white fur, bristling outwards everywhere their wings didn't cover. And their wings covered a great deal, so they ended up looking a bit like a woman's hair brush given an odd, ergonomic form. Broker scowled at Goat. "Why not take a xir – you can trade a xir for everything from a dream to five years of youth in the Goblin Market."

"I wish what I wish," Goat said. "But if you wish, I can throw in the story of why we wish the they. Would that be enough to convince you."

"Is it a good story?" the Broker asked.

"It's...passable," Goat said.

Broker rubbed his chin. "I'll buy your they for four hims, two hers, a they and the story, if it's passable."

Goat inclined his head. "This they is the they of a bat, an animal, a foolish beast. It was born betwixt genders by a fluke chance. But a they purchased from Greeter would be taken from a mortal human, and thus, applicable to someone in our party who wishes a they pronoun. Hence, the trade."

Broker frowned. "It is, as you say, a passable story."

Goat held out Chirp in one hand. Broker held out his hand – and several glowing beads hung in the air beneath his fingers. Each bead had its own unique color, its own unique sense of itself. And yet, just looking at them, Ember could immediately tell which was which. Yes, two of them were red-ish, but one of them was the fierce, masculine red of a male person, and the other was the husky red of someone who smoldered with feminine potence. One of the feminine orbs was a brilliant blue spark, like the flash of a lightning, and it nearly hurt Ember to look at it. It was a pronoun that screamed I'm gay, gay, gay, I'm super duper gay, I like girls, and I'm a girl, and we're super gay. He shook his head in slow wonder.

"I had no idea that five hims could be so distinct," he said as the fae placed them down upon the table.

"This is the amount," Broker said. "Now, I shall take your bat's pronoun..."

He reached outwards and plucked at the air above Chirp, who quivered and made a tiny chirruping noise. Then a whispy black gemstone popped out of the air above their white fur, hovering between Broker's fingers. Broker smiled. "This is quite a fine pronoun, Sifu. I shall-"

An arm, wrapped in leather, ending in a hand contained within a fingerless leather glove, plunged into the conversation and, before Broker's gaping face, snatched Chirp's pronoun out of the air. Ember gaped almost as much as Broker as he looked over and saw the Locust Person. Their mask was off, revealing a perfectly normal, human face beneath it. A female face. Her left eye was a brilliant blue while her right was shining color and both were slitted like a pleased cat. She had sharp fangs and a winning smile and skidded backwards on her cheeks, tossing Chirp's pronoun into the air and catching it with her other hand.

"Thanks, sunboy," she said. "Later."

And with that, she backflipped, landed on the head of a startled crystal ogre, then sprang from him to a low hanging tree branch, and then was off like a hunting raptor.

"Well," Goat said. "Get her!" He smacked the back of Ember's head.

"Right!" Ember sprang to his feet and started to sprint forward. He slammed right into the crystal ogre, shoving him over and leaping over the dividing fence between him and the rest of the Goblin Market. He almost sprinted straight into the spears of a pair of pissed off looking cataphracts, who saw him sprinting straight at their noble lord as some kind of threat. Ember instinctively snatched the first spear, twisted, yanked the spear from the shocked fae's hands, then spun. He took the legs out on the other fae with the spear's haft and sent him flying through the air in a wave of glittering, crystal armor. The fae noble gaped at Ember from the back of his snorting horse, and Ember had enough time to say: "Sorry!" Before he leaped up, delivered a flying dropkick.

The noble squelched into the dirt and Ember had one hand on the spear, the other on the reigns of the horse.

"Sorry!" He said again. "I'll bring it back!"

The last time Ember had ridden a horse, he had nearly been flung straight off. But that had been before he had become the Unconquered.

He kneed the horse and the elven mount shot forward as fast as a dream carried on the wings of spirits. Men and women and others sprang out of its way as it charged forward, its hooves striking sparks and leaving behind sprouting saplings. Its nose flared and it breathed out rose petals as Ember stood up on the stirrups of the crystal saddle, hefting the spear over his shoulder. The Locust Person had reached the limit that leaping from branch to branch could get her. She pulled the crossbow pistol she had mounted at her hip, the bars snapping open as she aimed off to the side.

Ember threw.

The crossbow fired – the bolt trailing a rope.

The Locust caught the rope and swung moments before the spear slammed into the tree. It caught her trench coat and dragged it off her as she swung away, revealing that underneath, she was wearing red leathers that clung to her rail thin body. A tail trailed behind her, fluttering like a banner, as she swept over Ember's head.

"Have to try harder than that, sunboy!" she shouted down, the crossbow drawing the rope back as she swung, sending her catapulting up to the higher levels of branches.

"Get back here, Locust!" Ember shouted, drawing his horse to a stop, the green beast's flanks heaving, rose petals rushing out of its nose with every breath.

"Why? You're about to die," the Locust called back to him before vanishing into the recesses of the higher tree branches. Ember looked back down and saw that a regiment of cataphracts advanced through the crowds like a ship parting waves. Men and women, goblins and merchants, spider beings and wispy clouds of fireflies, all of them parted before the armored fae. They had spears and swords and bows and the expression of extremely pissed off soldiers.

Ember grinned, weakly at the cataphracts. "Uh, she stole it first?" he asked.

"Surrender and die, mortal," a female cataphract said, stepping forward from the regiment, her sword in her hand.

"...shouldn't that be or?" Ember asked.

"No," the cataphract said.

Ember glanced up.

The Locust stood on a branch, almost thirty feet over his head. She held an apple in one of her hands and took a big juicy bite out of it. Ember was fairly certain she was taunting him. He looked back down, then stammered. "L-Listen. I can give the horse back?"

"Come on, sunboy, do you think they're going to buy that?" the Locust called down through a mouthful of apple.

Ember glared up at her. "Shut up, Locust!"

"Yeah, Locusts always speak perfect Regency and come alone," the Locust dropped to her knees, leaning half over the branch. Her tail twitched from side to side as she waggled the apple she had in her hand at him. "You're kinda dumb for an Unconquered, aren't you?"

The cataphracts started to murmur among one another. Their leader grinned, slowly. "An Unconquered...in the Goblin Market..." She said, her hand tightening around her hilt. "If any of us take him down, we'll be made nobilis..." She licked her lips. The cataphracts began to slowly spread outwards, as if they knew that a tightly regimented formation would be less than useful against a single Unconquered. Ember blinked, then stammered.

"W-Wait, what if I kill you all?" he asked, his voice squeaking. God, he wished he had actual male pronouns right now, and wasn't just using he/him through sheer bloody minded determination. He was pretty sure he'd still be pissing himself in terror, but at least he'd be himself. "In fact...if you serve the Unconquered loyally, the gods of reincarnation will place you into new, happy lives."

"Two things, Unconquered," the cataphract leader crooned. "We're fae. We don't reincarnate under the auspices of your gods." She smirked. "Secondly?"

She drew her sword with a rasp.

"Your gods resent the ancient submission treaties. And so, they interpret serving an Unconquered loyally very liberally. What better way could a mortal serve you than to die in training you? Honing your body to perfection in mortal combat?" She aimed the sword right at Ember.

Ember, who had looked past the cataphract, managed to keep his face straight. "Wow. Really?"

"Yes. Really." The cataphract grinned. "At-"

"Wait!" Ember held up his hand. The cataphracts paused, holding their collective breaths, like an army of violinists poised before the conductor. Ember groped for something, anything to say, and finally said: "How much wood could a wood pecker peck if a wood pecker only pecked wood?"

The cataphract leader looked utterly baffled long enough for Xora to finish her long sprint from the market to the back of their formation. "What the fuck kind of question is that?" The cataphract asked as Xora veered to the side, used the edge of a fruit cart as a ramp, then leaped into the air above the formation of fae. They were quite spread out compared to their initial phalanx, but the narrow coil of the Goblin Market's streets forced them to stand closer together than they might have wished. Xora looked like a small dot above them – until she bellowed.

"Megaladonic Elbow Strike!"

And, with a pop, Xora assumed her animal form.

When Chirp became a drakhul bat, they became even smaller, even cuter, even more soft and easily pettable. When Xora became a shark, Ember realized, she didn't just become a shark. Not like the small, knife-like riversharks he knew. She became a shark. The shark. A shark to end all sharks. A shark so massively sharkish that it blotted out the pale light of the fireflies overhead, casting a titanic shadow down over the fae regiment beneath her. The fae looked up, had a few seconds to look completely baffled, and then Xora slammed down onto them so hard that the ground rocked up underneath Ember's horse, which shied to the side with a nervous snort of rose petals from its nostrils.

Ember would have expected there to be silence after such a titanic moment.

Instead, there was the steady crunch, crunch, crunch munch of the Locust – or the false Locust - eating her apple. Slowly, Ember craned his head backwards.

The false Locust swallowed, then dropped the apple core. "I guess it's true what they say. Amethysts are not subtle," she said - and the core bounced right off Ember's forehead.

Ember snarled. "Xora! Catapult."

She rolled onto her side – revealing half the cataphracts, who were all groaning and stunned. . Ember stood in the stirrups, then leaped from the horse. He landed on the tip of Xora's immense shark nose – then slipped along her smooth, rubbery side, bumping over her gills. He skidded down, came to her tail, and Xora flung her tail to the side as hard as she possibly could. Ember shot into the air like a torpedo, reached out, snatched a branch, swung around and then landed feet first against a tree, flipped to the side, cartwheeled through the air, and landed right across the branch from the false Locust.

She smirked and did a soft clap. "Seven point five out of ten," she said.

Ember tried to kick her in the face. The branch bowed and the false Locust ducked smoothly, then poked Ember in the knee with her pinkie – a claw springing from her fingertip at the last second. Ember hissed, hoppped up in pain, then yelped as the false Locust slapped his chest and sent him plummeting. He grabbed the very edge of the branch, which swung down alarmingly as she casually hopped to the next branch over, landing with ease.

Ember used the momentum of the branch to swing himself back up onto his feet, scowling. "Get back here!"

"Ehh," the false Locust said, half turning so she could slap his punch out of the air. Ember jerked his hand back before she grabbed his wrist. "Not really feeling the 'let myself get captured' sunboy."

"That's my Lunar's pronoun!" Ember snarled. He snapped out a kick, then hopped onto the branch as the Locust leaped backwards.

"Is it, though?" The false Locust said, cocking her head.

"I-" Ember opened his mouth to respond – but the Locust snapped up her hand. She had a crossbow pistol in it. Ember twisted and the bolt shot past his head. The crossbow had a magazine of them, mounted above the central bolt-area, and the jerking motion of the weapon firing locked and loaded a second. The false Locust fired again and Ember ducked low. "Missed!" he said.