Citizen 1355 Ourea

The markets of Atlas were bustling with life, with countless vendors and customers trading, bartering, arguing, and everything in between. Ourea weaved through the thick crowd, carefully slipping through it as she sought out the merchant she needed. She had heard rumors of a famed craftsman coming to Atlas, with the highest quality instruments dracm could buy. Her pouch weighed heavily in her palm, the result of several months of begging. Being a street rat didn’t pay well, after all.

Ourea nearly squealed as she laid eyes upon the merchant’s stall. Beautiful, gilded lyres, several aulos hanging from the top of the stall, even a harp that looked heavier than Ourea herself. She inched closer, carefully peering over the wares. She had her eye on one in particular, a chelys, as it was more portable and affordable than a harp, but no less magnificent. Yet, as Ourea came close enough to see every instrument the merchant had available, her heart plummeted. Even the cheapest one was more than double the price of what she had saved, and she wouldn’t be able to make up the difference before the merchant packed up and left Atlas entirely. Ourea bit her tongue to keep her tears at bay as she felt her dreams of being a bard, of being someone worth listening to, were shattered in an instant.

The air felt heavier as Ourea slipped back into the crowd, wandering aimlessly until she reached the edge of Atlas, where the city faded away into the surrounding nature. She continued moping, slowly dragging her feet through the cobbled paths until it turned to a dusty road surrounded by lush forests. There, Ourea drew in a deep breath, closing her eyes and letting her tears wet her fur. Oh, if only she had saved just a little more.

That night, as Ourea laid beneath the stars, her thoughts became clouded with ideas. Some of grandeur, some of stooping to theft just to have what she wanted, and some… some that seemed plausible.

As the dome began filling with light, signalling the beginning of a new day, Ourea rose with a new energy. If she couldn’t buy the chelys, she would just have to make one of her own. She knew the process by heart, having poured over book after book in a library during rainy days, and it surely wouldn’t be too hard to make one that functioned. When she learned how to perform, she could save for a better one.

First on her ingredients list was an appropriately sized tortoise shell for the resonating chamber. One too small wouldn’t work, as it wouldn’t amplify the sound enough and wouldn’t provide a good grip. No, Ourea would need the largest shell she could find. 

Ourea began wandering through the forests of the Dome, keeping her eyes open for any interesting tracks. Several times, she was drawn away from the road by a new set of tracks, only to be disappointed as she found nothing but an abandoned burrow or an angry lizard in the end.

Though, around halfway through the day, a promising set of tracks were imprinted in the dirt, crossing the road into the forest. Ourea kept her head low, following the tracks as closely as she could through the thick undergrowth. The tracks wandered and curved, and Ourea lost sight of them at least three times until they finally led her to a river bank.

Ourea nearly shouted in triumph as she spotted a tortoise drinking from the river’s water. Her ticket to learning music and becoming a bard, nearly within arm’s reach. She stalked closer, her head becoming light from how she was holding her breath. Finally, with a push from her hind legs, Ourea pounced on the tortoise and snatched it up into the air, watching its legs wiggle uselessly.

Was it a little unnecessary to pounce on such a slow-moving animal? Sure, but Ourea was both a little dumb and not willing to take any chances.

Yet, Ourea’s excitement died down as she inspected the tortoise. It was hardly a mature specimen at all! Its shell barely reached half of the size Ourea needed. She set the tortoise back down, watching it scuttle away with a disappointed sigh. 

With a far more stormy mood, Ourea kept looking, returning to the road she had been following before. It took much, much longer to find another set of tracks, with the sun nearly setting in the Dome’s sky. This set of tracks was larger, with thick claws digging deep into the ground. Surely, this would be a large enough tortoise for Ourea’s dreams.

The tracks wandered just as much as the last set, but Ourea didn’t lose it once. She couldn’t let this opportunity pass. A few times, Ourea paused, inspecting deep gouges in the dirt beneath trees and bushes. They could’ve easily been hiding spots or burrows, yet every time, they were left unoccupied. Ourea didn’t linger long enough to ponder it, worried about the setting sun. She couldn’t continue searching if she didn’t have any light.

Soon, Ourea found an even larger burrow. It sat beneath a massive tree, with gnarled roots creating the perfect space for a creature to hide beneath. She grinned as she shoved her head between the roots, ready to grab the tortoise by the leg and drag it out…

…Only to yelp in pain as she reeled back, her nose throbbing with the fresh pain of claw marks. A very disgruntled badger poked its head out of its den, baring its teeth and snarling at Ourea. She backed up quickly, holding her nose and snarling right back at the badger. She scowled at it for a few moments longer, before storming off to find a spot to sleep for the night. It was too late to go off looking for another set of tortoise prints, and she needed to cool off after that blunder anyways. 

Nursing her wounds, Ourea slept under the stars once more, letting her anger fade into determination. Tomorrow, she would surely find what she was looking for. Her dreams that night were filled with tortoises, some small, some so large they could crush her under their foot. 

When the dawn broke, Ourea scrambled to the roads, ignoring the smell of fresh rain and the way her fur sagged beneath the weight of water. She could dry off later. For now, there were more important matters at hand. 

The mud squelched beneath her paws, creating a deeply unpleasant sensation. Yet, the mud itself became a blessing, as it showed clear, fresh tracks from a tortoise. An actual tortoise this time, Ourea could see the grooves its shell left in the mud where it had walked just hours before.

Ourea stepped over a fallen tree, yelping as she slipped on the slimy moss and covered her underbelly with mud. She slowly drew herself back up, half-heartedly shaking off the mud and grumbling quietly about it. Her movements were slower, more subdued, as the trek through the mud sapped away at her energy, yet she wasn’t any less motivated to continue her search. If she didn’t complete this task, she’d never become a bard. She’d never find a home to call her own, she’d never sing to the masses and watch them truly listen. No, she had to keep going.

Soon, Ourea found a burrow. With the ground being softened by rain, this tortoise had made a truly grand burrow - Ourea could hardly see inside, yet it seemed to stretch deep beneath the earth. Creeping closer, Ourea let her magic flow out from her body, her halo illuminating the den. A feral grin stretched across her face as she finally found it, the perfect specimen for her to use for a chelys.

The cold mud cradled Ourea’s chest as she lowered herself to the ground, positioning herself just right for the most leverage she could get. She reached in, turning her head to give her shoulder more room to squeeze inside, and felt her claws scrape against the very edge of the tortoise’s shell. Oh, dear.

Ourea had never honed her magic enough to lift things heavier than a couple of pounds. She wasn’t very gifted with magic to begin with, hence why she never became a magician like her sibling, and she wouldn’t be able to drag the tortoise out with it. She needed to be a little more creative with her extraction.

The leaves nearby were thriving after the heavy rain, so Ourea plucked one and attempted to draw the tortoise out with it. She pushed it inside, slowly wiggling it around, even accidentally putting it up the tortoise’s nose once - she only knew it had happened because she heard it sneeze. Eventually, she decided to switch it up, setting the leaf aside and grabbing a stick instead.

It was a good stick, large and sturdy, with a v-shaped split at the end that curved down just enough to hopefully scoop the tortoise out. Ourea maneuvered it in carefully, occasionally peeking down to make sure it was in just the right position, and pulled. She hadn’t accounted for the tortoise being too small for the branch to hook onto, and pouted as she pulled up a bunch of mud. By that point, the tortoise had caught onto Ourea’s schemes, and had settled itself into the deepest reaches of the burrow.

Desperate times called for desperate measures.

With a deep sigh of eternal suffering, Ourea resigned herself to her final resort. She planted her feet in the mud, digging her back claws into the soft earth, and began scooping out the burrow, widening the opening. Her breath fogged up in the cool air, thick clouds from her heavy breathing. The work felt endless, her paws aching with both the exercise and the cold by the time she was done. 

Nearly an hour had passed, yet Ourea could finally, finally reach inside and grab the tortoise. Her laugh was relieved, nearly manic, as she inspected the wriggling animal. The perfect size, just the right shape. At last, her search was over. With a quick movement of her claws, Ourea dug into the tortoise’s brain, ending its life with minimal stress. She strapped it to her pack, letting it drain as she began her journey to the alley of Atlas she called her home.

Tortoise soup was the perfect thing to warm Ourea up after a long couple of days out in the wilds. The hollowed out shell sat like a trophy, slowly drying out so the aspiring bard could use it for her craft.

(By we.stan.pidgeons )