tied_up

Samantha

There was once a king by the name of Reimond Day. A former farmhand, he had risen up, encouraged others to do so, slew the lichdragon Holomorpheus, planned the defeat of the necromancer Casse, and sat on the throne. And he sat, and he sat, and he sat. No one paid it much mind. They hadn’t much need for a king, and a lifetime of minor idolatry seemed sufficient recompense for the lack of tyranny.

It is annoying, thought his daughter, Samantha Day. The past is never recompense for the present. Maybe what he did was great, but he’s neglecting his omnipresent responsibility now. And the people of the land didn’t care. What if he started ‘investing’ in magical research? Or infrastructure? Or an actual standing army?

She knew several of her siblings shared this view, or at least, close enough that they could release to eachother. It wasn’t lost on her that they found her impulsive, uneducated, and uncollaborative, though.

And indeed, when Samantha Day had learned Quincy Day had jumped off a cliff, though she held it together for a few months, Samantha Day had inevitably destroyed several rooms in one of her half-brother’s houses. As recompense, she was tied up and shipped up to Northpoint Academy, a week from Felkner.

Her anger was palpable. Everyone was stupid. Grampa. Holstram. Libri.

Quincy was stupid for killing himself, and everyone was stupid for thinking she was the same as him. He could’ve stayed in Penbarrow forever, doing nothing, helping assemble ovens or finding novel ways to use magic to assist with the harvest. He always enjoyed finding novel applications for magic…

Lionel was stupid for overreacting to his wrecked house. For one, his house was bad. Natural causes were bound to destroy the entire neighbourhood in time. He could, if he wanted to, assert his birthright to get something more well-constructed. Or at least, inhomogeneous. But no, it was close to the Felkner Vanguard Guild, and that was all he cared about. It would’ve been easy, he could just ask Anisa to give him a house, or a room in her manor, and she’d probably oblige. And besides, it’s not like they couldn’t afford to fix it. When the people are taxed, where do you think that money goes?

Anisa was stupid for generally hating every suggestion Samantha gave for improving Felkner. Yes, Anisa, I get it, I’m a reckless, soulless, evil person, because I thought it was funny when Quincy set the foyer on fire, or dropped rats from the ceiling. Yes, I get it, you want the Vanguard under your thumb because some fraction of them are unhinged, destructive abominations. Yes, you’d rather I kill myself too, and work directly with Weathers. But, you moron, you’re not judging the suggestions, you’re judging the people. A bridge in the north would allow for more crime to move from Blueadder to Stonegrove, yes, but that’s why we station more guards up there, and kill the people who do crime. As if having downsides is a reason to ignore the benefits.

Weathers was just stupid for all sorts of reasons. Everyone dies, stop being so afraid of it. I’m afraid of death, too, but not so much that I lock my body in a bank vault, or in some chest under the sea, or wherever it is. And stop trying to cut me out of discussions with Anisa, I’m technically in charge of the guild, it goes Reimond, Anisa, me, the board, and the guy who is elected by the board, and you’re only that guy for so long.

Joan… no, Joan wasn’t stupid, but she is an ass. Actually, no, she was stupid for not knowing her place, but Quincy was stupid for tolerating it. But she couldn’t have known he would’ve tolerated it. So, she was stupid for being an ass when she couldn’t have known being an ass was a valid position to hold. Oh, but that was all years ago…

No, Joan wasn’t stupid. She may have been at some point, but not anymore.

Verris is probably stupid for letting this happen, but he was probably kept in the dark the day they tied me up and threw me in the back of the wagon.

And then there was Roe, who was stupid for following unjust orders, wasting two weeks of her life driving to and from Northpoint. She was also stupid for not getting additional security (maybe dad had already checked the entire path?) and she was stupid for pretending to be mute so she didn’t have to engage with me.

It took a few days to realize that yes, everyone was colluding, they were aware of the tied up princess in the back of the wagon, and they wouldn’t help her. The logistics were dumbfounding. Reimond wasted the time and effort to ensure no merchants or otherwise armoured caravans would react to the screaming girl, yet he wouldn’t invest in a standing army. Or better infrastructure. Reimond Day was unequivocally the stupidest of them all.

She’d get her arms untied to eat, or to read. She’d considered strangling Roe, but she wasn’t sure how to do so without killing her. That, and Roe could easily overpower her. And she wasn’t confident she could get these horses to stop and go. And she expected if someone saw her, they’d just tie her back up and send her back on her way. Strangling Roe would definitely be cathartic, though. She made a mental note to do so when there’d be no consequences.

The books Roe had brought were boring and made no sense, nor could she deduce on whose authority they’d been provided. ‘Kinematics’, ‘induction’, ‘dissolution’, ‘transmutation’, ‘thaumodynamics’, ‘calculus’, ‘finite automata and prophecy machines’. She liked words in concept, but words needed context, which the books failed to provide. Everything was all arrows and circles, numbers were letters and letters were numbers. She thought Roe was just the Vanguard stablewoman, and probably illiterate. But, the books gave something to pretend to do while imagining fake scenarios of kicking Roe out of the front of the wagon, trampling her, turning the wagon around, and forcing an apology from all the supposed friends back home.

Ugh.

The food was fine. Bread and bread and some butter and bread and a bit of pork and bread. She wasn’t sure if this was some psychological game she was inadvertently winning. Maybe they expected the princess would have higher expectations for food. She did, she preferred beef, but she wouldn’t let herself think that, lest they win.

Everything was a damn psychological game with everyone and everyone was constantly losing. Or maybe that’s just what they wanted you to think. And the term ‘psychology’ didn’t even make sense, it was only tangentially related to psychomancy. ‘Telology’ or ‘animology’ may fit better.

There was the possibility she was being shipped out right now so she wouldn’t get in the way of the imminent coup. Maybe she’d return in 3 years, and the map would be completely redrawn. Felkner would be split in 2, and 1 of them would be the new capital.

No, no, she’s, I’m, just being paranoid. If there were a coup, everyone would want me on their side. All that talk Agarma and Rose had had about stabbing Reimond in the back and taking over were jokes, right?

Dammit, why hadn’t she done that when she had the chance. Well, it was good that she hadn’t, no one had stopped her deportation, so probably no one would’ve sided with her.

She was going stupid.

She’d been staring at a book on spell circle primitives for five minutes. The index had repeatedly told her there was a ‘Merl interpretation’ and an ‘Animist interpretation’ and an ‘Atomos interpretation’ and then she’d forgotten and the index had told her again ‘Merl Animist Atomos’ and she remembered the last book’s index that told her ‘axioms predicates sets functions’ and the book before that that told her ‘fire bellows ore cast’ and she decided to stop reading and stop thinking and drop her book to the wagon’s floor.

“Roe,” said Samantha’s paranoid mouth, to the driver’s back, “Putting aside your fake muteness, do you have telepathy?”

No response. Not even a turn.

Technically, it wasn’t a week. 6 days. But Grampa, Libri, Holstram, Shiron, et cetera, was it boring. She almost admitted she actually read the books. Her hectic time at the Vanguard had spoiled her, maybe. Penbarrow was slow, she’d survived that, she could survive unbuttered bread. She was so bored, she almost thought about how she could be blamed for the predicament she was in, and how she could change her behaviour to avoid it in the future. But no. She was blameless, and this would never happen again.

“Hey Roe, what’s a linear operator?” “Hey Roe, what’s a hertzo?” “…a nolton?” “…a thaum?” “…an infinitesimal?” She already knew ‘ana’† and ‘kata’‡, though, she wasn’t completely ignorant.

Roe didn’t engage. She probably didn’t know, either.

And finally, finally, finally, finally, finally, finally, finally, they arrived.

† /aˈna/

‡ /kaˈta/

One of her many brothers, Agarma Day, was in charge of the land, the city, and the academy. They hadn’t spoken for a while. From what she remembered, though, he was a genius, as much as her. She much preferred a genius dictatorship to a stupid lack of leadership. She expected to meet with him when they’d parked…