Arc 9 | Chapter 315: Far Too Slippery

“So… like, what’s actually so wrong with Mitine Dyn?”

Emilia flicked a glance at the student who had spoken, one of Norrayn’s friends. What was her name? Julie? Jane? Jill? Some J-name that always seemed to slip through Emilia’s brain because the girl was inane, and it was better that Emilia not remember her, lest they meet again in the future and she hold the stupidity of her youth against her.

Case in point: Norrayn was now explaining to her friend the complicated relationship Mitine Dyn and Chinsata had, and while Baalphorians weren’t exactly well known for their knowledge of other nations and cultures, most still knew Chinsata was one of the few holding on to a slave trade. A couple others had indentured servitude that was far more forced that the odd version found in Baalphoria, where people could sell themselves at will and easily buy back their contracts, but for the most part, there was enough pressure from the rest of the northern nations that abuse within those systems was somewhat limited…

somewhat.

Oh, there were always situations where someone was charged with something insane and sentenced to indentured servitude for revenge or because they were coveted for some irregular deviation or another—lavender codes and silverstrains were considered especially valuable in a number of places—but the risk of another nation finding out and sanctioning them? Their allies following suit? Yeah, not many nations were willing to risk that unless the reason was

really

good.

The unfortunate thing? There was enough prejudice against lavender codes—as well as several even rarer irregular deviations—that most nations didn’t give a shit if they were being forced into indentured servitude over absolutely nothing. Lavender codes were dangerous—supposedly, Emilia had her doubts—and most nations were perfectly fine with anything being done to control and contain them.

“They have… slaves?” J-name was asking Norrayn, and seriously, why were they friends?

Emilia didn’t know Norrayn well, but she seemed to be a mostly fine person? Afraid of the clones in the beginning, but who wasn’t? Now, whenever the triplets showed up, she tried to guess who was who in what was honestly a pretty adorable game. The triplets were playing back, purposefully showing up wearing each others’ personalities in order to mess with her, much to the amusement of most of the class. Not J-name; she was still… not really afraid of them, more disgusted in a way that had led Emilia to suspect she held some purist leanings, although nothing had been found in her or her family’s background to suggest any solid ties to purism.

Still, it didn’t surprise Emilia when J-name started asking about

why

Chinsata had slaves and what sorts of people they kept as slaves as they all stared out over the river and near barren desert to Mitine Dyn. They were high enough up that, if they had a good enough telescope or the right skill, they would just be able to see Chinsata’s border in the distance. They also happened to be high enough up that the air had become thinner, and despite Olivier telling all of them—except her, as he’d never given her a list of anything to prepare for the trip—to install a skill to attract oxygen to them, they hadn’t.

Mostly this had just resulted in a bunch of them lingering around Olivier, making use of the shield of oxygen he himself had activated and probably didn’t actually need—most low-devs adapted to extreme environments quickly, and given he apparently brought students here multiple times a year, he was probably perfectly fine. Still, this was perhaps why he didn’t notice—or at least couldn’t intervene—when J-name started trying to argue that

some people

just did better as slaves.

What. The. Fuck.

“Emilia,” Halen said, shifting so he was between her and the little bitch who was seriously trying to argue that all the silverstrains and Dyads and other minorities they literally

kidnapped

from surrounding nations were better off for it, to say nothing of the ones they specifically bred as slaves. “You can’t push her off the wall.”

“Says who?”

“The law.”

“There might be exceptions,” Lan’za noted, staring off into the distance, her gaze absent, while Halen gaped and sputtered at her. Lan’za was definitely the last person anyone expected to be all but encouraging her to kill the stupid woman. “Chinsata scavengers are probably responsible for quite a few missing locals. If she is arguing that is acceptable, we might be able to make an argument that Emilia killing her is within the law. There are even precedents.”

“Really?” Emilia asked, turning away from where Norrayn was trying to explain to J-name that she was stupid in much nicer words than Emilia would have used.

If Halen activated a skill to keep the rest of their conversation away from her, well, it was… something. Sweet? Controlling? Who knew? Who cared! It was gossip time!

Lan’za nodded, the little gleam in her eyes telling Emilia that she knew exactly what she was doing: dangling information Emilia didn’t already have and therefore was dying to get in front of her as bribery. See? This was why Lan’za was the best at controlling her! The future hai’za didn’t bother trying to tell her

no,

she just redirected her to more interesting things.

“We have laws which… extend ramifications onto opinions and support? They were primarily used in times of strife—times when revolts rise, and it is impossible to tell who is organizing action against the government and who is a passive supporter?” Lan’za explained, her words slow because this wasn’t really something they often talked about. Sure, her friend would point out to the rest of her coren’taz when they were about to break a law, but Lan’za didn’t generally talk about the specific laws they would be breaking, and while Lan’za spoke fluent Baalphorian, even Emilia would struggle to talk about the stuff she had learned in Olivier’s class in a non-rambling way. There were just too many specific terms, and at least her Censor would be there trying to supply her with the proper wording.

“So, the government can censor people for their opinions?” Halen asked, nose wrinkling for the barest moment before his face smoothed back out—the man was far too vain to be caught with anything other than a scowl or smirk on his face… until today, anyways.

Shaking her head, Lan’za tried to explain what the laws actually did, which seemed to be holding people accountable for voicing support for illegal activities that had already occurred, the

already occurred

part considered especially important.

“Can’t that still be used to shut down conversations about government corruption and circumstances where the laws are wrong?” Halen continued, and oh, he was mad~

Given that when his family had left the Grey Sands, several generations earlier, the Baalphorian government had been trying to shut down talk of civil war, followed by yet another attempt to stamp out its culture with excessive and abusive laws and censorship… yeah, there might be some generational trauma there. Part of her wanted to talk to him about it—it was morbid and painful, but the history of Baalphoria and the Grey Sands, especially when it came to those who had left the latter to live in the former, was fascinating.

Halen and his family hadn't shied away from their heritage in at least two generations, yet she knew they weren’t really Grey Sanders in the eyes of those who still lived in their homeland. To native Grey Sanders, every person who had left their soil was no longer part of their community, and there was no coming back, even for their descendants who had had no part in the decision to leave. Yet, the Mhrinas still seemed to have some amount of attachment to their long-lost homeland, the trauma of what had happened there and the reasons they had chosen to leave seemingly still haunting them—at least, that was what Emilia assumed as she watched Halen and Lan’za go back and forth over whether censorship was ever a good thing and if charging someone with a crime simply for voicing support for a criminal’s actions was reasonable or not.

Probably… it wasn’t? It was complicated, Emilia supposed; sure, she’d love to go around and slit the throat of everyone who dared suggest the slavers of Chinsata had the right idea when they insisted silverstrains were only good for sex and slavery—and, according to some especially horrific rumours, as ingredients in traditional medicine and food. They were supporting the views of criminals, so why shouldn’t they die… or perhaps more reasonably be thrown in prison on account of their support?

Well, what happened when the government changed its tune? Or even just amplified whatever views they already held? Lavender codes were treated as potential murder machines from birth by most nations; what was to stop governments from deciding all lavender codes should instead be killed at birth? Some mother hiding their purple-eyed child in an attempt to keep them from death; now, she was a criminal—and anyone who argued she was just protecting her child, as so many mothers would? They were now criminals as well, and yeah, that was why censorship and this law Lan’za was talking about—which she was insisting was only in truly egregious situations, such as the hypothetical person voicing their support for the kidnapping of locals by Chinsata scavengers—were far too slippery.

It was all fine and good while your opinions were the ones considered

right

and

legal

and

just

; it was a whole other thing when you were suddenly the one in the wrong, your opinions the ones that could land you in prison or a grave. Plus, while J-name did seem to have some purist leanings, someone ignorant could just as easily voice support for horrific things, not understanding why their support was horrific. Who judged whether there was true intent to support criminals and when it was simple ignorance? Who decided if lack of knowledge even mattered?

Halen also seemed to be of the opinion that censorship laws were way too slippery, and honestly? Emilia had seen him argue with teachers—not to mention her and other students—pretty enthusiastically. Those times were nothing compared to this Halen, all righteous fury—even if it was still pretty contained—that was kinda hot, and not just in the

Halen is objectively the most attractive person she’d ever seen

sort of way.

Emilia… well, she’d always had a thing for people who could stand up for what they thought was right. It was part of why she and Hurinren, despite their often tense relationship, actually liked each other overall: they were both the sort of people who would bite back at the highest of authority figures for being wrong, even if it put them at risk; the sort of people who would help murder someone and then smile and laugh about it because they all knew the world was a better place without them in it.

“Why are you smiling at me like that?” Halen asked, one of the students having called Lan’za away to answer a few of his questions about the view.

Emilia had seen the student intervening in arguments before, using himself as a distraction to break things up. Everyone in class seemed to assume he was a bit bobble brained, not really understanding when to interject with a question or comment in conversations, and therefore stumbling his way into breaking up disagreements, but Emilia was pretty sure it was purposeful.

“Am I smiling?” Emilia teased, forcing her smile down before it tugged back up—tugged tighter because Halen truly looked uncomfortable. Did he think she was going to bite?

The man’s throat bobbed, his jaw clenching, mouth opening briefly before his tongue slipped out to lick over his lips.

“When did you get that done?” she asked, hoping to avoid telling her former classmate that she’d been smiling because his passion was attractive—intoxicating, even, because he was also the sort of person who could back his opinions up with facts and statistics and studies. “Your tongue.” She’d seen it before, catching such a fleeting glimpse of it while they were eating that she hadn’t been sure if it was really pierced or not, then confirming it was when he’d stuck his tongue out at her like they were children.

Halen let his tongue flick out, dragging slower over his lips before pulling the piercing slowly back into his mouth, as though showing it off. It… definitely wasn’t helping with the sudden burst of attraction she was having for the man, especially not when memories of him during the Krill’ok’gry with his head so enthusiastically between her legs spilled through her mind. Was she sure that had been him? Not completely, but that might have just been her trying to convince herself Halen couldn’t have been

that

into fucking her. He was supposed to hate her, but apparently, she was an idiot.

As though he could read her mind, the man’s lips quirked, cocky and sure of himself as he told her he’d had it done right after he’d turned thirty and no longer needed his parents' permission to modify his body.

“Would they have cared?” she asked, thinking back to the Mhrinas. Sure, they were definitely a little controlling, but she actually couldn’t see them caring much whether their almost grown son got his tongue pierced or not. Having met his mother a few times… honestly, she might have just teased him over the

things

he would be doing with the piercing, then tried to learn

who

her son was planning on doing those things with.

Halen shrugged as he told her no, they probably wouldn’t have cared too much. “Not about that one, anyways,” he added, eyes flicking down just long enough that it was pretty clear where else he had piercings. “Other ones…”

Ones

—as in, more than one piercing in his dick?

Oh. Yeah, that definitely wasn’t helping with the attraction thing. Definitely not.