This story takes place in the same universe as my "Amorous World of Asisai" series (A Scandal, A Prophecy, Etc.). However, you do not need to read it to enjoy this story. If you'd like, you can refer to my reader's guide If you want some foundational lore for this universe.
Korgon grumbled as he tried to awkwardly lay his quadruped centaur body on the train seat. Eventually he managed, and he stored his weapons under the seat, yet kept his precious grimoire of magic spells strapped to his side and in close reach. He laid his human torso against the wall to look out the window and watched as the large, busy city of Alipi turned into thick forests. The gleam of the late afternoon sun made his fair skin glow, the rumble of the magi-tech train causing his messy brown curls to bounce. Usually as a centaur he would keep his torso bare, but his latest endeavor in Alipi left him with a swath of fine dark blue robes draped over his whole body.
Though more importantly, the endeavor also left him with a healthy payment. Looking out the rest of the train, making sure the other passengers weren't watching him, he detached a purse from his side and placed it on the wooden table in front of him. Opening it, he spent the next couple of minutes carefully counting through his payment, again occasionally looking to the aisle to make sure nobody was looking at him. Luckily, the afternoon train from Alipi was close to empty.
28, 29, 30,
he counted to himself.
That makes 30 gold pieces, 50 silver, and 50 copper.
He smiled to himself, sweeping up his coins back into his purse.
The silver and bronze pieces alone could set me up for two weeks at an inn. That should give me plenty of time to find another job.
He pulled a gold coin, inspecting closely as it reflected the sunlight.
Which begs the question: what should I do with you?
As if the universe could hear his thoughts, a young man seemed to fall out of the ceiling and land into the seat opposite of Korgon.
The centaur reacted with a neutral expression, a stark contrast to the young man's bright smile. Though not a man in actuality, he was a nymphling as indicated by his long, pointy ears. They parted his swooshy dark hair, which fell into his amber eyes. By his clean, lightly-tanned face, Korgon assumed he was around twenty-two or twenty-four years old, but with nymphlings it was hard to tell. He was wearing a colorful, embroidered cape, which was parted enough to indicate that he was shirtless beneath.
Korgon realized he was staring, but in his defense, the nymphling didn't seem to be bothered by his wandering eyes as he continued to look up at the centaur with the same drowsy smile.
Korgon broke the silence by sighing. "I'm not looking for any service, thank you," he said dismissively, stashing away his coin purse.
That caused the youthful nymphling to giggle. "Well that's unfortunate for you, 'cause I'm only a whore for women," he fired back as if it was the greatest rebuttal to ever be thought up. He then offered his hand. "The name's Pagwyn!"
The centaur didn't shake it. "Korgon. And pray-tell, to what do I owe this pleasure?" he said in a tone that hopefully indicated he was interested in very little conversation.
"Well, if you must know," Pagwyn started, leaning back.
Dammit.
"I was in the city, visiting and retrieving a friend of mine, she's just a few cars down. I was planning on walking to bar for a drink when I just happened to notice you. And, for the life of me, I couldn't shake the feeling that you were familiar. I sat just over there, working my mind as hard as I think it has ever worked, trying to see where I had recognized you from. And then, BAM! It hit me, and thus, I subtly made my approach to ask you..." With his monologue ending, he placed both his hands on the table and leaned in close.
"Are you a Whore?"
Pagwyn's question filled Korgon with a strong cocktail of confusion, anger, and mild amusement, which stifled any response he wanted to make. Though eventually, he managed one.
"I don't need to sell myself," he stated, wondering what compelled his subtle brag.
"Nononono," Pagwyn said, shaking his head. "Not a whore, a Whhooorrree. Are you one?"
After a few seconds of thinking, in which he controlled his urge to threaten Pagwyn, he realized what he was asking.
"You know, usually the Road of Whores is a bit more subtle when around strangers," Korgon said, "sometimes." He has hesitated to call himself a member of the lustful counter-cultural movement for reasons deeper than mere decorum. Yet he couldn't deny that they have been his greatest employers in the past year, so he has reluctantly accepted the label.
"So is that a yes?" Pagwyn asked.
"If I say so, will you leave me alone?"
Pagwyn violently shook his head and sat back. "Because now that my suspicions have been confirmed, I am awash with curiosity and admiration."
"Admiration?" Korgon asked genuinely. He felt only a little embarrassed he was immediately drawn in by Pagwyn's flattery.
The nymphling chuckled. "I knew that'd get you, but yes, even from the few times I've seen you on the Road and from the rumors that spread among friends of friends, you have built a reputation for taking a few but very dangerous jobs. And judging by the size of your purse from earlier, you have just returned from another."
For the first time since meeting Pagwyn, Korgon smiled. "That would be accurate."
Pagwyn leaned on the table, folding his hands under his head. "Then, Korgon the centaur, I would like to propose something to you. You strike me as the type of adventurer to not settle down, but instead to, forgive my language, gallop onwards into the sunset, throwing caution to the wind."
Korgon scrutinized him. Canaries have set a precedent for selling their exclusive, accumulated knowledge before, but at this point Pagwyn's curiosity infected the centaur. "Go on," he said.
"If I may brag -"
"You may."
