Ancestorstuck Origins: The Psiioniic

Chapter One

He'd passed by the tent for the forth time. That man still sat in back. On his previous passes, he'd seen him giving a young lady a fortune. This must be how the old woman who owned the tent really made her money, not in her 'bargain sales'. This time, instead of pretending to look at other merchants wares, he approached the gypsy.

"Um, excuse me miss, but I can't help but notice the young fellow in back of your tent there. Is it true what you advertise, everything under the tarp roof is for sale or trade?"

The elder troll looked Kankri up and down for a moment, more than likely admiring his looks- not that he believed he had any- before giving him an answer.

"Aye, that is true. Him included."

"How much? My sister is looking for a husband and leans towards trolls of his type, so to speak."

"From a handsome fellow such as yourself, I would gladly take 50. But for him, it's going to cost extra."

"Might I inquire as to why?"

The old woman got up close to him so as to whisper in his ear

"Don't go spreading this around the caravan, but that young man there is a Psionic! That's why the fortune predictions have been so spot on as of late."

'A Psionic?' Kankri thought. 'And she's treating him like a slave..Mother's eggs will just have to wait then. We can eat the dried meat tonight. I have to free this man.'

"Hm. You know, I think I might have 80 with your name on it. What'd'ya say to that?"

"I do believe we have a deal."

After quickly stuffing the wad of money down her corset, the old woman led Kankri into the tent and produced a sheet of parchment, the Psionic's contract, which she passed along to him, as well as the end of the chain binding the young man and the key that went to the locks.

"He's yours. I do hope that sister of yours is happy with your gift to her."

"Oh, she will be."

He winced when the woman forced the Psionic to his feet and shoved him towards Kankri. Now he could see that the man was blindfolded, his wrists and ankles bound with ornamental shackles. There were various wounds and scars littering his torso, whip marks, all in various stages of healing.

Kankri wanted nothing more than to get the troll off of his feet, get him back to his mother's wagon and take him to camp where he could be safe and his injuries tended.

But he had to keep up the act. At least until he reached the other end of the marketplace where his mother was.

"C'mon. You're with me now. I'll guide you through the market." He gently tugged the chain holding the young troll forward, so he would know to follow him.

The yellow-blood complied, slowly shuffling behind Kankri into the busy marketplace.

Once they were several stalls away from the old woman's, Kankri stopped, the Psionic following suit.

"I'm really very sorry. You must be tired. If you'll allow me, I'll carry you the rest of the way to my cart."

"Why would you do that? You must be a Highblood, to possess such money to buy me. Why do you care so?"

The last thing he whispered in the young man's ear so no-one would overhear him.

"Because I'm not a Highblood. I'm really of a lower caste than even you. All I want is to help."

Kankri was sure that had the troll's eyes been uncovered, they would have been wide with disbelief.

"Now, would you like me to carry you the rest of the way?" He spoke normally.

The Psionic nodded, somewhat hesitantly.

Kankri dropped the chain and heaved the man up into his arms, and began slowly walking the short way back to Porrim's cart. He briefly stopped to unlock the man's restraints, setting him on his feet and tossing them to the side, helping him hobble the rest of the way there.

Porrim was studying their map when Kankri reached the cart, lifting the man again and laying him in the haypile.

"You're back early, my boy." She mumbled, folding the map carefully and tucking it into her cloak, turning in her seat to face her son

"Did you get the- KANKRI VANTAS-MARYAM, WHAT DID YOU DO?!"

"Mother, he needs our help. Badly. I bought him from a blue-blooded gypsy woman up the road. I intend to free him."

Porrim continued to stare at her son with shock and anger, but once she looked at the boy laying in the back of her cart, at how sick and starved he was, she couldn't be mad any more.

"Just...stay with him in the back. Make sure he's comfortable. I'm going to go trade Barten some of my grain for some vegetables and eggs. I'll be back soon."

"Mother, where is Damara?"

"She's stocking up on medical supplies. I'll be sure to tell her of your...new friend..when I find her."

With a sack of grain flung over her shoulder, Porrim crossed the street to the produce cart a little ways over.

Kankri further settled the yellow-blood into the hay pile, bunching some of it up underneath his head.

"Don't worry. You can trust her. Damara too, though not with as much, I'd say. She's my mother's assistant." The red-blood watched the people pass by, taking in the sounds and sights of the market.

"We'll be leaving as soon as they return." He placed a hand on the man's shoulder. At first he flinched, but then he relaxed some.

Not long after, Damara returned to the cart, placing her freshly restocked medicine basket in back, as a result coming face to face with Kankri and his new acquaintance.

"Kankri, who is this?"

"Someone more unfortunate than us, Damara. He needed my help."

"Where's Porrim?"

"She left to trade some of the grain for rations."

Damara climbed into the back of the cart with the other two, kneeling beside the Psionic in the haystack to assess his condition. She took his hand in hers and ran her thumb over his wrist, feeling the raw skin there.

"You spent all your money freeing another slave, didn't you?"

"I freed you from that brothel those months ago, didn't I? If you had seen what the gypsy women had done to him, you would understand my actions. He's sick and injured. He needs us."

"And your mother approves of this?"

"She wasn't exactly thrilled. But she didn't turn him away. She knew he'd be better off with us."

"Why are his eyes covered?" The woman went to lift the blindfold, but Kankri stopped her.

"I really don't think you should do that. At least, not until we've returned to the camp. It's very important that his eyes remain hidden."

With that, Damara left the blindfold alone. Instead, she began inspecting the whip scars that marred his body.

"We're you beaten, boy?"

He nodded weakly.

"Can you speak?"

"Y-...yes.." The yellow-blood's mouth stuck to itself, his response turned raspy.

Damara checked his pulse briefly before turning to Kankri.

"He's probably dehydrated. He needs water, or he'll fall to heat sickness during the journey."

"I suppose we can spare some of the rations. Mother won't mind."

"All the same, we should wait for her return."

"Perhaps you're right.."

The Psionic began to drift out of consciousness as the two conversed, in the end, losing the battle with exhaustion.

It wasn't until hours later, when they were traveling along a barren road, that he was awoken by someone pressing a water skin to his lips in an attempt to get him to drink.