I don't mind skipping ahead. There are a couple of details I would add in summarising the skip but I can add them in in the next post.
Muttonhawk Member
Let Slip the Corgis of War
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Dear Mr Curly,
I have done little travelling lately because I have been so dreadfully weary. Can it be true as the old Ecclesiastes said; that all things lead to weariness? Surely not. Perhaps the opposite is true: that all nothings lead to weariness. I have a peculiar feeling, Curly, that I am worn out from something I haven't yet done and the more I don't do it, the more exhausted I become. How strange. Could it be something I haven't realised? Perhaps it's something I haven't said? Something I haven't finished! It must be very large and true whatever it is and a lively struggle in the doing but I look forward to it immensely. I know I need it. First, however, I must curl up in my chair and sleep deeply with the duck. Perhaps I'll dream of this thing and wake up refreshed and do it. My fond wishes to you Mr. Curly, and to all Curly Flat.
Yours sleepily,
Vasco Pyjama
xxx
P.S. Not having breakfast can make you weary. That's for sure!
Most Recent Posts
Rhazii brought his knees up, wrapping his elbows around them and clasping his hands while he listened. The last detail made his ear turn and his grin widen. "Have you got a girlfriend now, Julan?" He asked. "What's her name? What did she do?"
Even Narsi let the corner of her mouth lift up a bit at the tease.
Giving a quiet thanks, Fendros took his mug and took a slow draught of the tea. The warmth made him visibly relax.
"Of course," he responded with a nod. "We can smooth out all the details in time." He looked into the brown-red water of his tea. "I still think, at some point, they'll be ready to know the whole truth. But that can wait as well." He peered back up at Ahnasha's eyes. "How are you feeling?"
Even Narsi let the corner of her mouth lift up a bit at the tease.
Giving a quiet thanks, Fendros took his mug and took a slow draught of the tea. The warmth made him visibly relax.
"Of course," he responded with a nod. "We can smooth out all the details in time." He looked into the brown-red water of his tea. "I still think, at some point, they'll be ready to know the whole truth. But that can wait as well." He peered back up at Ahnasha's eyes. "How are you feeling?"
Leaps settled himself down onto his belly a short distance from the fire. No doubt the warmth felt comforting against his scales in the damp cavern.
"They're tough out in those villages, aren't they?" Rhazii asked rhetorically with a small grin. "I should say congratulations, brother. Those tattoos aren't going to be so weird now, I think. They do make you look pretty tough, come to think of it."
Narsi crossed her arms. "So you had to fight someone to prove you were one of them? Sounds like a Orc stronghold. Momma told me about them. They didn't have...tattoos like this, though. What was it like in the village? Where is it?"
Fendros gave an accepting nod to Ahnasha's response to the less likely ideas. There was no trace of stubbornness he felt he needed to show.
If forced to admit it, Fendros was fully prepared for Ahnasha to reject all his ideas. Or, at the least, to require further convincing. In her apparent acceptance of the last option, Fendros peered up at her in surprise. "Oh...well, good, we have something then." He sat up straighter and tried to think of what to say next in his foggy mind. "We would still have to decide what extra details to mention; whether Rhazii is a werewolf, whether to introduce the pack as...a pack, how lycanthropy works..." He stopped himself. "You're right, though. Let's...As much as I would like to speak to them about it as soon as possible, it may be best to wait and gauge how much they believe so far. For all we know, they might decide not to ask any more questions at all."
He sighed and ran his hands up his face. "Pour me some tea, please, Ahna? I need it."
"They're tough out in those villages, aren't they?" Rhazii asked rhetorically with a small grin. "I should say congratulations, brother. Those tattoos aren't going to be so weird now, I think. They do make you look pretty tough, come to think of it."
Narsi crossed her arms. "So you had to fight someone to prove you were one of them? Sounds like a Orc stronghold. Momma told me about them. They didn't have...tattoos like this, though. What was it like in the village? Where is it?"
Fendros gave an accepting nod to Ahnasha's response to the less likely ideas. There was no trace of stubbornness he felt he needed to show.
If forced to admit it, Fendros was fully prepared for Ahnasha to reject all his ideas. Or, at the least, to require further convincing. In her apparent acceptance of the last option, Fendros peered up at her in surprise. "Oh...well, good, we have something then." He sat up straighter and tried to think of what to say next in his foggy mind. "We would still have to decide what extra details to mention; whether Rhazii is a werewolf, whether to introduce the pack as...a pack, how lycanthropy works..." He stopped himself. "You're right, though. Let's...As much as I would like to speak to them about it as soon as possible, it may be best to wait and gauge how much they believe so far. For all we know, they might decide not to ask any more questions at all."
He sighed and ran his hands up his face. "Pour me some tea, please, Ahna? I need it."
Harriet's fists loosened and her shoulders slumped. "Yeah...I am, huh," she answered. "I never thought very far ahead." She blinked her eyes to one side. Her voice suddenly regained some energy. "I wanna change the subject. What the hell is that picture painted on your body about, anyway?" She pointed to the wamasu marks on Julan's body.
"I'm curious about that, too, actually," Rhazii called out from behind them. "Did you say you got a spear through your leg earlier? What happened?"
Fendros stood up from his chair and stepped over to a clay jar on the kitchen bench. Taking the teapot from the table and a spoon, he went about making some more tea as his sister suggested.
"I'll start with the solution you probably won't like so we can get it out of the way quickly." He spoke over his shoulder as he retrieved the kettle from the stove. "We work out what we lied about and what we told the truth about, then tell your family what was the truth and what were the lies, and then be upfront that we cannot share more than that. We stick to our boundaries and they either accept the reality of the situation or they do not. We can at least promise to keep in touch and to visit every now and then."
Fendros finished pouring boiling water into the teapot and set it upon the table again. The spout steamed gently in front of them both. He sat down on the table, this time leaning on his forearms and weaving his fingers together. "Another idea I had was something just as an aside. It's possible that if they won't listen to you about your soul not needing to be saved or some such, they might listen to a priest from the clergy of the Eight Divines in Leyawiin. There's a chance whoever is in charge there is...more open minded." He pressed his middle and index finger onto his temple. "The Reclamations priest here in Cheydinhal was very helpful to us. It would be a similar situation. I know it's no guarantee, but it's an option."
As he took in another deep breath, Fendros seemed to brace himself before continuing. "The only other idea in my head that felt like it would hold water was..." He hesitated and then looked directly at Ahnasha. "Your family is no expert on lycans, right? If the problem is saving your soul, then perhaps it would be a much more plausible lie to say that I'm a werewolf and you are not. It's been no secret to them already that my family worships the Reclamations, not the Eight. Perhaps they would be willing to cross that bridge, so to speak." he swallowed nervously. "What do you think?"
"I'm curious about that, too, actually," Rhazii called out from behind them. "Did you say you got a spear through your leg earlier? What happened?"
Fendros stood up from his chair and stepped over to a clay jar on the kitchen bench. Taking the teapot from the table and a spoon, he went about making some more tea as his sister suggested.
"I'll start with the solution you probably won't like so we can get it out of the way quickly." He spoke over his shoulder as he retrieved the kettle from the stove. "We work out what we lied about and what we told the truth about, then tell your family what was the truth and what were the lies, and then be upfront that we cannot share more than that. We stick to our boundaries and they either accept the reality of the situation or they do not. We can at least promise to keep in touch and to visit every now and then."
Fendros finished pouring boiling water into the teapot and set it upon the table again. The spout steamed gently in front of them both. He sat down on the table, this time leaning on his forearms and weaving his fingers together. "Another idea I had was something just as an aside. It's possible that if they won't listen to you about your soul not needing to be saved or some such, they might listen to a priest from the clergy of the Eight Divines in Leyawiin. There's a chance whoever is in charge there is...more open minded." He pressed his middle and index finger onto his temple. "The Reclamations priest here in Cheydinhal was very helpful to us. It would be a similar situation. I know it's no guarantee, but it's an option."
As he took in another deep breath, Fendros seemed to brace himself before continuing. "The only other idea in my head that felt like it would hold water was..." He hesitated and then looked directly at Ahnasha. "Your family is no expert on lycans, right? If the problem is saving your soul, then perhaps it would be a much more plausible lie to say that I'm a werewolf and you are not. It's been no secret to them already that my family worships the Reclamations, not the Eight. Perhaps they would be willing to cross that bridge, so to speak." he swallowed nervously. "What do you think?"
Before Kirron’s encounter with the Beast
The air fluttered through Kirron’s white mane as he directed himself through the air. His last jump had been from the middle of a cold, dry, rocky land far from any ocean. Just a step for him. This jump was bringing him over clouds, and only just over another colossal range of grey mountains. Ohannakeloi’s land never seemed to end. Kirron loved it.
Finally over the mountains, Kirron could see the ocean glinting at the edge of the other end of the continent. Plenty of greenery was before him, but he wanted to take in the view from a high vantage point.
Just as well the ground was rising again to welcome him back.
"WooooOOOOAAAAAH!" His cheeks puffed up as he yelled from the sheer force of wind against his direction of travel. The source of his exclamation came in the form of a large bank of scree that readily swallowed him all the way up to the abdomen and slowed his momentum with force enough to slam his arms and face against its surface. His tree trunk club whizzed past him with a smooth sheeouuuu! as it surfed in a line all the way down, causing a small landslide of stone onto the forest beneath it.
The dull THONK of the club’s end stopping hard upon a boulder startled Kirron out of his daze. He sat up and shook the pebbles out of his beard like a wet dog. "Who had the time to pile up all these tiny rocks!?" He thought out loud. "Bah! May as well have a look around while I’m here."
Kirron lifted his arms and slowly waded his way out of the scree. He inevitably caused another landslide which he gracefully walked down, taking care to keep his balance. At the base of the embankment, he pulled his club out of the gravel with an effortless heft and marched on.
Embalek loved the colour of the stones this far into the south. He had made his family from those stones, and he held affection for each one of them.
Henakjao was the first he made. A rough character from a hodgepodge of materials, but that gave a wise angle of perspective that made Henakjao a valuable counsellor as well as a friend.
Ulam was the next, made with help from Henakjao. Ulam was better planned in body shape – much better balanced. Such a friend was always the type to run ahead.
But Ihokhetlani such as they had no reason to resent their different shapes and sizes. To have one another was more important. To pay respect to the gods and to shape the stones well. Embalek tore another large plate of dark slate from the outcrop before him and held it up by the edges with his large hands. "And you will have your own shape as well," he said to himself, regarding the stone with the glowing optical hole in his head.
"Embalek, look what I found," Ulam held a round orange stone up above himself. It was bigger than Ulam’s head. "Our new friend will make good use of a foot like this."
Embalek lowered the slate and lumbered around to face the orange rock. "Hmm. A good find, but too big and brittle for a foot. Try knapping it down into a head shape."
"A head!?" Ulam brought the stone in front of his eye. "But…but that is the most important part. Are you sure?"
"Yes. It is a good find, Ulam." Embalek gestured with a palm up towards him. "We needed a head for our newest friend. I want you to shape it."
"I’m honoured, Embalek! Thank you!"
Henakjao clomped his feet on the soil around a tree and gruffly lifted a flint and obsidian hand holding a sturdier speckled red stone. "Found a foot," he announced.
Embalek’s eye glinted. "Aha, Henakjao you are a sharp one as always. Good work! With this slate for a shoulder blade and Ulam having found a head, we are ready to put our friend together already."
Henakjao tersely nodded. Ulam lifted the yellow stone above his head and waddled forth, leading the way back around the mountain trail.
Clack, clack, clack, clack, clock!
A chunk of yellow stone sheared off its larger counterpart and thudded onto the grass. Henakjao reverently lifted up the larger remains between his flint fingers; a smooth block of orange stone with a shallow hole dug out of the top. He placed it softly at the edge of a larger pile of stones of all different shapes, sizes, colours, and patterns. Together, the heap made the rough shape of a four-limbed creature with a head, much like the rest of them.
"The pyres and Asceal’s comet are bright tonight," Embalek said to the clear night sky above. "And the breeze is soft. A perfect time."
"How do we do this, Embalek?" Ulam said eagerly.
"Calling a new Ihokhetlani comes naturally." He pat Ulam’s smooth marble shoulder. "Just follow our lead. Our friend will wake up before you know it."
Heavy footsteps parted the grass nearby. All three of the Ihokhetlani turned their heads. Coming up the grassy hillock towards them was a stranger. Half their height but the same shape as them. Hairy and fleshy like an animal but carrying a stripped tree over one shoulder. Its eye was a strange, flesh-flapped thing too low on his face and did not glow at all. It could only have been one thing based on description alone, if quite different from the rare statues made of him.
The stranger’s eye hole parted to show a set of triangular teeth. "’Scuse me for eavesdropping, but I was wondering…" The stranger pointed at the stone heap, circling his finger at it. "Do you fellas make friends out of piles of stones often?"
The Ihokhetlani looked at each other. Embalek faced the stranger and replied with a deep bow. The others bowed as well. "Greetings. We do not make friends often, I must say. Tonight is a special night. We have been gathering the choicest stone to make this body for our new friend and we are finally ready to call him." Embalek gestured to the heap. "You humble us with your presence, stranger, and forgive me for my presumption, but if I am not mistaken, we are visited by a god tonight, are we not?"
"Bleah," Kirron rolled his eyes. "Yeah. You’re not Sheng’s buddies are you? You sound kinda like him."
"I am afraid I do not know the name Sheng. Perhaps you refer to the god of-"
Kirron waved dismissively. "Whatever, whatever. The name’s Kirron. I am blood and strength. Who are you lot?"
"Your most noble self is a blessing to our humble presences. We are Ihokhetlani, Embalek…" Embalek placed his fingers on his chest, and then onto the shoulders of his companions in turn. "…Henakjao, and Ulam."
"Hmph," Kirron harrumphed. "Sounds like fun to make a new friend. How long did that take you?"
Embalek had to think on how to answer. "Time passing is not something we Ihokhetlani pay close attention to. The snowy dark that takes the south on occasion has passed…five times since we began, I believe? That was when Ulam was born."
Kirron’s brow lowered and he tilted his head. "Really? Huh. Is it a challenge, doing all this rock gathering?"
Embalek clasped his brown stony hands, sensing a reason to be nervous. "We thank Ohannakeloi every day for the strength and fortitude he gave us, for such a task is only a matter of patience and judgement."
"So it’s easy, huh?"
"Not always. Our new friend’s lower leg had to be dislodged from a rather tight ravine." Embalek’s stony head glanced to Henakjao and back. "It…took us fifteen nights to lever it out."
Kirron curled his lips inward. The way his mouth tsked as he showed his teeth again gave across a most unimpressed disposition. He faced the yellow stone head Ulam had found and Henakjao had carved.
The blood god intoned with severity: "This night is not special. Not as it is. It was not earnt through enough adversity to appreciate." He stepped between the Ihokhetlani and grasped the yellow stone with his free hand, lifting it up off its place.
Ulam tightened a pale marble fist.
"If you want this friend of yours, I’m going to take his head up to the top of that mountain over there." Kirron pointed to a snow-capped peak in the near-distance, his index finger lifting from the stone even as he held it aloft in his hand without any trouble. "To scale it, you will have to face a deadly challenge. Something worthy. If it bests you, you might even die, but only those kinds of risks are really special." A dreadful grin spread across Kirron’s face. "But if you don’t come to collect, that challenge is going to come to you, and all the rest of you Ihokhetlani. So, you’d better not be the cowards you made yourselves out to be here to me today…"
"Oh, god of blood and strength, Kirron, please," Embalek spread his arms and fell to his knees desperately. "Do not curse us! We are only creatures of nature! We did not dream to offend you!"
"Too late, stoneman!" Kirron snarled. "You are no better than this heap of lifeless rocks if you never use the gifts your creator gave you! Step up from your base nature or your precious peace will turn you back into stone." He walked several paces towards the mountain and stopped to look over his shoulder. "Heed my words, Ihokhetlani."
He crouched, tensed, and launched himself off the ground towards the mountain, kicking up a heap of grass and soil in his wake.
The three Ihokhetlani were left in stunned, fearful silence. The soft breeze was suddenly much louder to their senses.
Ulam punched the soft ground. "That bully!" He shouted. "He can’t just steal our friend’s head after all that time finding it!"
"Ulam, be at peace-"
"No!" Ulam bounded away, down the hill and towards the mountain. "I’m going to get that stone back!"
"Ulam, wait!" Not even Henakjao’s deep voice could stop the quick companion. Henakjao and Embalek dropped into a thunderous jog to keep up with Ulam.
"Time to make a challenge."
High up the mountain, blood melted through ice and seeped into the cracks of the stone.
Green and black veins hissed and bubbled in the earth.
A glowing blood of red and bright yellow oozed like a burst scab and was drawn up in four misshaped metallic pillars.
The great body of bronze was cast at their summits.
Wild eyes blazed.
Heat blasted from its nostrils.
Hooves slammed the ground.
It had no mouth to say its name. Kirron granted one as one last gift.
"Ikhortaur."
It huffed with fury.
"Awaken them to death."
Ihokhetlani did not tire easily. Ulam knew this, yet in his indignant anger he ran further than he knew he was capable of. The theft felt petty. It felt unfair. There was plenty of other stone around if Kirron wanted some. Kirron may have been a god but he had no right to take away their friend before he was born. That was the stone Ulam had found especially for him! They had carved it for his head!
"Ulam! Do not be rash!"
Embalek’s voice was faint behind him. He did not want to slow down. He was not far from the mountain now. The trees had given way to gravel and grass a short while ago.
Henakjao yelled out as well. "It is not the place of mortals to meddle with gods! You don’t know what you’re heading into, Ulam!"
How hard could this challenge be anyway? Ulam thought. They were Ihokhetlani, prey to no creature and unstoppable given enough time. If some little challenge was all it took to prove themselves to Kirron, Ulam would complete it out of spite no matter how long it took.
Ulam’s heavy footfalls slowed as the incline of the mountain’s base presented itself. He jumped up over boulders and hefted himself up the rises.
"Ulam! Turn back! I beg of you!" Embalek spoke with a renewed fear.
"No!" Ulam stopped at the top of a flat boulder half his height and turned around. "We are proud, strong, and intelligent! Ohannakeloi could not have created us just to be pushed around!"
Embalek and Henakjao finally slid to a stop near the boulder. Embalek pleaded with his arms outstretched. "Please! We must respect the gods. If we are not prepared for a deadly challenge, we will be punished for it!"
"I cannot give my respect to a god that cannot respect us!" Ulam punched the stone beneath him. "We had peace before he walked up! Who does he think he is to force us to change?!"
"You don’t know what you are doing, young one…" Henakjao slowly raised a hand towards Ulam. "Come, leave with us. That Kirron is dangerous. He could smite you whenever he likes."
Ulam pointed back. "You’re too scared to think! If he could just smite us, why didn’t he do so before!?"
A hot breeze passed them by, flicking the grass tufts in the direction of their travel and back. They all felt a presence. A dreadful, monstrous presence. Ulam rotated his head and upper body to see the glinting shape of a creature he dared not to conjure into his imagination.
Two red flames stared at him from the height of a stony ridge. Framed in a silhouette highlighted by lines of light reflected from the moon as if its skin was a yellow mirror, those eyes laid housed in the body of a four-legged giant in the shape of a cattle bull. It easily overshadowed the Ihokhetlani even without its perch overlooking them. Instead of the usual two horns, the beast sported only a single, short, blunt, reflective horn that angled slightly down. It had an aura to it that made the surface of Ulam’s stony skin crawl.
"Ulam…" Embalek said cautiously. "Get down from there slowly."
Ulam remained standing. He could not move.
"We’re right here. Come down and it might not see us."
"I…" Ulam’s voice shook with fear. "I can’t…"
He knew he could move if he wanted to. Feeling terror for the first time in his life, he could not shake himself from the paralysis. Ulam’s first nightmare was here, staring at him, and he did not know he was awake.
"Ulam…!"
Jets of steam blew from the cattle monster’s nostrils and it broke into a sudden charge down the ridge. The lustrous garden’s light in the night showed more of the creature barrelling towards them. Its entire body glinted with angular skin of yellowed bronze. It had no mouth, but its nose continued trailing steam. As it neared a boulder in its path, the bull thrashed its horn into it, causing the stone to explode into chunks. Its momentum was not slowed.
"Ulam, run!"
While Ulam turned to sprint away, the bull was too fast. He saw his companions running for their own lives an instant before he felt a thud against his back.
His soul experienced the painful reality of being thrown from his violently shattered body.
Stones rained down ahead of Embalek and Henakjao’s path. Pieces of their young friend filled their hearts with grief and dread as they escaped from the great bronze bull.
It did not give chase, but they ran as hard as they could.
Morning came to Embalek and Henakjao. They both sat like still stones, their eye holes flickering gently with a draining grief.
Neither of them wanted to talk. They did not know what to say. They could not make sense of their loss.
The only clue as to what had happened was the one piece of broken stone. Henakjao had snatched it up from the shards of Ulam while they retreated.
It was not broken. The fractures were too smooth, and the faces of them covered with a drying red liquid.
"I think…" Henakjao managed to find just enough energy to speak. "…I think the priests should be warned of this."
Narsi's lower lip pressed upward with some bottled anger. "Yeah, momma told me," she said. "He could'a..." She sniffed and breathed out sharply, before lifting her head upwards. She bit her lower lip for a moment before resuming. "He didn't want anything to do with us. That's what momma said. Momma said he was dopey, and that was the reason, but I know even a stupid asshole like him can get his friends to write a letter for him. Maybe send a little gold or meat so momma didn't have to go hungry when there wasn't work in the city for her and the lycan agents didn't have anything for her to do." Her fists balled up until they creaked. The entire length of her small arms tensed up and shook. "I'm gonna beat the shit out of him. He's gotta know how it felt."
Fendros blinked his eyes down.
He took a few seconds to break his silence again.
"You know," he said. "I...did spend some time last night-" likely the whole night awake by the way he looked "-trying to find some way to..." He closed his eyes and raised an open hand. "Don't mistake this for forcing anything on you. I just got thinking on how to work this all out. Something which doesn't drive a wedge between us and the family but won't...well, have them crawling all over you saving your soul or...or thinking we're running shops and being in militias and so on and so on. It's not too late to catch up with them again, if you feel up to it."
Fendros blinked his eyes down.
He took a few seconds to break his silence again.
"You know," he said. "I...did spend some time last night-" likely the whole night awake by the way he looked "-trying to find some way to..." He closed his eyes and raised an open hand. "Don't mistake this for forcing anything on you. I just got thinking on how to work this all out. Something which doesn't drive a wedge between us and the family but won't...well, have them crawling all over you saving your soul or...or thinking we're running shops and being in militias and so on and so on. It's not too late to catch up with them again, if you feel up to it."
Li’Kalla
Goddess of Water
14 MP 16 FP
&
Goddess of Water
14 MP 16 FP
&
Up north, a ways past the Pan but not quite inside Ashalla, there was an impressive mountain chain. At least, it was impressive to the Beast. All it had seen in its short life had been annoying rivers, annoying mazes, and recently an annoyingly large lake. Along the way here, it had also seen and tasted not-so-annoying things. Its favorite had been the tasty lake and river. It’s what the Beast could only imagine the annoying lady that made it vomit would have tasted like, had it managed to plop her into its maw.
A low, tired growl escaped its throat. It wasn’t tired. It couldn’t get tired, but… Eating so many weak things was seriously tiresome.
It already had to empty its stomach several times just on the way to this tall mountain, and the path it had taken to get here was evident by how much of a mess it left everywhere it passed by.
It couldn’t be bothered to eat all parts of its prey, could it? There was no joy in licking up deer blood.
Its form was large, so normal-sized caverns were not suitable for it. From afar, it had noticed a large cave opening on the side of this mountain, and now it had reached it. With just a few more paces, some more climbing and a powerful flap of its wings, it landed on the protruding stone and looked deep into the darkness of the cavern.
Suitable.
It could bring back tons of prey here and eat it slowly. Here, nothing would interrupt its feeding rituals-
Growling. Low, dangerous, and most importantly… Not the Beast’s.
Its wide open, spotlight eyes narrowed, and their green light shone down the cavern. Within the far shadows, far beyond the reach of its light, the Beast saw shadows writhe and shuffle.
Big prey. The forms looked well developed, and they smelled like smoke. And they were big! There was so much flesh to them! The Beast’s maw dropped open slightly, and drool began to drip onto the stone ground.
There was a hiss and a whimper. Parts of the mass of shadows stepped further back and disappeared into the darkness. Others, came forward. As they stepped into the unnatural green light, the Beast realized it was two individuals. A quick sniff revealed them to be a male and female, recently mated, and with the stench of numerous, more tender smelling beings clinging onto them. Offspring.
The growling one was the male. It lowered its head and bared its sharp teeth dangerously. the baser beast knew of the dangerous situation. It was half the size of the intruder, after all. But a dragon’s pride could not be trampled, not even by the Gods! Not while his mate was relying on him.
The female stood a few hesitant paces behind the male, but it hissed and held its wings outstretched in the enclosed space. The Beast assumed to prevent it from seeing the offspring. Unfortunate, for the Beast’s nose was exceptional and had already caught whiff of the tasty little things.
It salivated in anticipation. Its hardened heart beat harder and quicker, its mouth hung open wider, and a dangerous glint came to its eyes.
The male recoiled back a pace and fell silent.
The Beast looked at it and snarled. No movement.
And so, it leaned its large head closer to the male, opening its maw more and more until it looked as if it could swallow the male dragon’s head whole.
It happened in a flash.
The whole cavern lit up in a ball of fire. A wave of fire spilled out of the side of the mountain, melting stone and vaporizing passing birds.
A wave crashed against the dark stone.
Kirron stopped walking to take another look down the broad, craggy cliffs of the northern coast. He popped another sunflower seed into his mouth and ground it between his teeth. The waves were a powerful sight when crashing against such a sudden obstacle. Even if there was little life here save for some grass and a few sea birds, it would be a shame to see it weathered out of its present glory in the coming ages.
"I should stroll around the coast of this place more often," he mumbled to himself. "Always something new."
Another wave crashed, spraying upwards with a loud hiss. The salty air burned softly in Kirron's nostrils. He smiled, readjusted the tree-trunk club over his shoulder, and continued.
With his leisurely pace, he did not expect much to jump out at him or for some great new discovery to be made. A break now and then was refreshing, especially after the teething issues with the selka, as he liked to think of it.
He put another bunch of seeds into his mouth. But when he chewed, his face scrunched up and he was still. He slowly crunched. It wasn't right. He pulled the remains of one seed off his tongue and looked at the moosh on his hand.
"Not that..." he said to himself. He stood up straighter, looking around and sniffing at the air. He grumbled to himself.
He followed the taste in the air. Relying on his nose, he kept his eyes to the distance. Up the narrow mountain trail he went until his foot wetly squelched into something. He looked down, lifting his foot to find it covered in blood, grass, fur, mud, and more. Chewed, smelly, and left abandoned.
He grumbled in thought again.
A thunderous roar cracked the stone. Several mountains couldn’t take the pressure, and landslides ran rampant. Valleys were erased, life was snuffed out in moments.
There, just past this next mountain!
Two more roars echoed throughout the mountain range. Pained, but proud and strong!
The sky seemed to catch fire, as a torrent of yellow and orange erupted from behind the mountain, followed by the two graceful shapes of fully mature dragons. They flew as one, and as one they released another torrent of fire onto their enemy. Heavy movements dispersed along the cracked ground, and the torrent of fire was blown away and back towards the two dragons.
The dragons were unhurt, their forms smoking and glowing like molten ore. The larger of the two let out a mighty roar, and dove. Its partner following closely. They were soon obscured by the mountain, but roars and panting and the ripping of flesh and scales could be heard.
Kirron vaulted another boulder and strained his head up to get a closer look. "There's no way I'm seeing this. No way!" He emptied his lungs in a single large laugh. "Ha! But I'm not gonna miss it either!"
He swung his free hand forward, squat down, and then launched himself off the rock face towards the brawl. He flew through the air for many seconds before he was pulled back down through the air, skidding to a long stop on his feet over the obscuring mountain.
"It is her! Hahahah!" He bellowed.
Far down in a small valley was a large Beast. It was missing several scales, panting wildly and showing several bloodied injuries along its left eye. Its golden ichor leaked slowly over the writhing shape of the smaller dragon. The Beast’s jaws were clenched tightly around its neck, thick dark blood coating its face. The dragon screamed out in anguish as the other took the opportunity to pounce onto the Beast’s back and bite into the back of its neck. Dark blue scales went flying and a growl escaped the Beast’s throat.
In an instant, it released the bloodied female’s neck and tried to shake the male off her back as it sunk its claws into whatever spot of exposed flesh it could find.
Kirron didn't just want to sit back and watch this time. He leapt and slid down into the valley. A trail of dust tore up under his heels all the way down onto semi-level ground. He walked out of the grey cloud with a broad, shark-toothed grin across his face. "Li'kalla!" He shouted at the fight. "I didn't take you for the wrestling type! What a fun transformation you've had!"
Another roar. This one more pained than the last. The Beast shook more violently, until the dragon on its back was finally dislodged. It flew over Kirron and crashed against the mountain above him. He strained his neck and stepped to follow its movement.
Immediately, the Beast turned its eyes toward Kirron and in an unrefined tone, it growled, “KIRRR… ON”
"Yes." Half of his grin curled upward at the Beast. "Doesn't it feel so much better to really throw your weight around? To shout out with a mighty voice!?" He lifted one arm out with his palm up. "You are strong now!"
The Beast closed the distance between it and the God as he spoke, and when he was finished, it flicked its tongue at him, still covered in the female dragon’s blood. Kirron's eyes scrunched shut. It licked the God forcefully and pushed him with its tongue, its eye wounds closing up quickly.
Kirron laughed and stepped up to pat the Beast's head. "Well met for sure, little sister." He paused. His smile faded.
Perhaps not little sister. Not completely. At the very least not just because of the new size. It licked him again, pressing its snout against him and blowing out an impressive amount of hot air.
"You're different," Kirron realised with some confusion. "Are you hiding some part of you away, Li'Kalla?"
The Beast did not find its words easily.
”RUN… FROM… GREEN GOD VAKK... SCARED… TINY ONES… WANT EAT AZURA...” It managed to grunt out as it sat down.
"She'll probably object to that," Kirron let himself a small guffaw. "D'you stand up to Vakk?" He placed down his club and lowered himself cross-legged beside the Beast, clutching his knees with his hands.
The Beast grunted in satisfaction and drooled a little over Kirron as it went to lick him again, ”VAKK TASTE GOOD. EAT TENTACLE. KIRRON TASTE GOOD. I EAT IF KIRRON WANT.” It opened its mouth as if to invite the God in.
Kirron leaned away from the Beast, but his bemusement was short lived. He pointed a finger at it. "If you eat me, Li, it won't taste as good coming back up the other way. I stepped in the messes you left on the way here."
”NO DIGEST. ONLY WATER IN BELLY. TASTE LIKE IT TASTE WHEN I EAT. VOMIT GOOD.”
The sunken eyes in Kirron's face lit up as if an idea had struck. He carefully stood himself up and braced himself. "...Don't mistake me; it's a bad habit to vomit up what you eat. But, I want to see if it's just water in there or if there are some tiny ones you're hiding away." He slouched and beckoned with both his arms. "Now open wide again, I want you to eat me!"
The beast recoiled slightly and stared coldly at the God, as if suddenly hesitating. Still, it opened its maw and leaned close to Kirron. He was already running. He jumped straight in, fists first, and disappeared straight down the Beast's gullet.
He tasted of blood and sunflower seeds.
The Beast felt full, really full, all of a sudden. And so it lied down and relaxed. It listened as the female dragon’s pulse slowed and faded, and also as the male dragon tried to dislodge himself from the mountain and ended up spearing one of his broken ribs into his heart. No threats anymore. It would eat them and their offspring later, it reasoned, once it felt like it had savored the God enough.
No Might spent
Narsi shook her head with a bit of frustration, but she swallowed down her temper before she responded. "No, they...Lorag don't like momma, but that's not it." She breathed in and held her breath, trying put her thoughts together. "...Momma...did something real bad, back before I was born. Real bad. Like, the kind of bad that makes other lycans from all over want to kill you. We were in Cheydinhal because we were hiding. Soon as I'm done here, I'm going back to take care of momma. I can't let her be alone. I'm all she's got."
She kicked some soil up into the fire. "And Lorag, he just cames out of nowhere after...not giving half a shit for years." She spat quietly. "I hate him."
Ahnasha's attempts to break the ice did liven the meal between them. Even with some residual nervousness from Llarasa and Monderyn, the entire family was eager to distract from the tension. Even Fendros relaxed a little, though he was too drained to be fully present in the conversation.
Before long, the last of the sweet and tart blueberry pancakes were finished and the teapot was empty. Calia selected her timing gracefully, speaking exactly when appropriate to do so. "Well then," she stood herself up and straightened her dress. "We shan't be wasting any more of the morning. Come, children, we have extra work to attend to with your father out on business."
Monderyn and Llarasa agreed, quickly cleared up, and followed their mother out the back door. Llarasa stopped by the door to say one last thing over her shoulder. "Oh! The kettle on the stove should still have some water. You know, if you...wanted some more tea." She waved. "See you later." She stepped out of sight.
The kitchen was quiet. Some birds sang outside and the stove still clicked with woodfire, but Fendros sat leant back on his chair, looking at his hand as he picked at a splinter of wood on the table top. The air drained from his lungs. "The first thing I owe you," he croaked, "is an apology. I lost my temper. It was not the time nor the place to stand up to you in front of your family."
He paused and looked across at Ahnasha.
She kicked some soil up into the fire. "And Lorag, he just cames out of nowhere after...not giving half a shit for years." She spat quietly. "I hate him."
Ahnasha's attempts to break the ice did liven the meal between them. Even with some residual nervousness from Llarasa and Monderyn, the entire family was eager to distract from the tension. Even Fendros relaxed a little, though he was too drained to be fully present in the conversation.
Before long, the last of the sweet and tart blueberry pancakes were finished and the teapot was empty. Calia selected her timing gracefully, speaking exactly when appropriate to do so. "Well then," she stood herself up and straightened her dress. "We shan't be wasting any more of the morning. Come, children, we have extra work to attend to with your father out on business."
Monderyn and Llarasa agreed, quickly cleared up, and followed their mother out the back door. Llarasa stopped by the door to say one last thing over her shoulder. "Oh! The kettle on the stove should still have some water. You know, if you...wanted some more tea." She waved. "See you later." She stepped out of sight.
The kitchen was quiet. Some birds sang outside and the stove still clicked with woodfire, but Fendros sat leant back on his chair, looking at his hand as he picked at a splinter of wood on the table top. The air drained from his lungs. "The first thing I owe you," he croaked, "is an apology. I lost my temper. It was not the time nor the place to stand up to you in front of your family."
He paused and looked across at Ahnasha.
Narsi glanced at Julan's hand on her shoulder, but quickly brought her eyes back to the ground. She had at least stopped shivering.
"You're in Lorag's pack, right?" She said, beginning to blink more than before. "Do you know why me and momma were living in the city?"
"Oh..." Fendros took a moment to process it. "I see." He slouched in his chair. "Maybe I can...catch them before we leave and say my farewells. If the opportunity arises." He paused, blinking slowly through his fatigue. "Maybe I'll just apologise in our next letter to them."
Breakfast began without any more words. With Ahnasha and Calia having pancakes for themselves already, Fendros and Monderyn received the next serves, Llarasa began cooking a pair of them for herself. The awkwardness kept them all quiet. Monderyn barely dared to speak his thanks for the meal to Llarasa too loudly.
"You're in Lorag's pack, right?" She said, beginning to blink more than before. "Do you know why me and momma were living in the city?"
"Oh..." Fendros took a moment to process it. "I see." He slouched in his chair. "Maybe I can...catch them before we leave and say my farewells. If the opportunity arises." He paused, blinking slowly through his fatigue. "Maybe I'll just apologise in our next letter to them."
Breakfast began without any more words. With Ahnasha and Calia having pancakes for themselves already, Fendros and Monderyn received the next serves, Llarasa began cooking a pair of them for herself. The awkwardness kept them all quiet. Monderyn barely dared to speak his thanks for the meal to Llarasa too loudly.
"You ate a dragon?" Narsi said sceptically as she slid off the saddle in turn. "Pff, whatever."
It might not have been the smartest idea to look into the fire in the dark cave, but Narsi still stood facing it with her hands under her armpits, a couple of steps away from Julan. She did not appear bothered by Julan undressing, but she was neither interested in following along nor responding to Julan with more than a distant frown.
Rhazii sat down nearer to Leaps, away from the fire, and added. "He's right. You can be yourself here, pretty much."
Narsi continued staring into the fire. She lowered her head.
"Are you okay?" Rhazii asked.
After a long hesitation, Narsi mumbled quietly enough that it was hard to hear her over the roaring flames. "I'm...not allowed to enjoy this place."
Calia spoke as Llarasa stepped forward to hug Ahnasha in turn. "You hope? You needn't hope, my dear. You are always welcome at our table; you are family."
"We have plenty to spare." Llarasa added. "Blueberries are in season and they go perfectly in pancakes." She pulled away with a more comfortable smile. "Here, I have some ready here. You and mother can begin while I cook some for the boys." She slid the latest pancake onto a broad plate and brought them onto the table. True to her allusion, they were spotted with dark blue-red berries and steaming fresh. Butter and other condiments were ready to add as well.
Before any other words could be spoken, two sets of footsteps clomped back down the stairs in no rush.
First through the kitchen door was Monderyn, who quietly took a seat and poured himself a cup of water.
Right behind him was Fendros, dressed in a hastily donned tunic, trousers, and socks, and sporting exhausted bags under his eyes. He stopped by the door to regard Ahnasha with a long, sore look. "Hello, Ahna," he breathed tentatively.
"Sit, Fendros," Calia said in her politely commanding manner. "Let us all break our fast. Then, I think, I should go out to set Llarasa and Monderyn to some chores that need doing on the vineyard."
Monderyn began to breath in. He suddenly understood and closed his mouth.
It might not have been the smartest idea to look into the fire in the dark cave, but Narsi still stood facing it with her hands under her armpits, a couple of steps away from Julan. She did not appear bothered by Julan undressing, but she was neither interested in following along nor responding to Julan with more than a distant frown.
Rhazii sat down nearer to Leaps, away from the fire, and added. "He's right. You can be yourself here, pretty much."
Narsi continued staring into the fire. She lowered her head.
"Are you okay?" Rhazii asked.
After a long hesitation, Narsi mumbled quietly enough that it was hard to hear her over the roaring flames. "I'm...not allowed to enjoy this place."
Calia spoke as Llarasa stepped forward to hug Ahnasha in turn. "You hope? You needn't hope, my dear. You are always welcome at our table; you are family."
"We have plenty to spare." Llarasa added. "Blueberries are in season and they go perfectly in pancakes." She pulled away with a more comfortable smile. "Here, I have some ready here. You and mother can begin while I cook some for the boys." She slid the latest pancake onto a broad plate and brought them onto the table. True to her allusion, they were spotted with dark blue-red berries and steaming fresh. Butter and other condiments were ready to add as well.
Before any other words could be spoken, two sets of footsteps clomped back down the stairs in no rush.
First through the kitchen door was Monderyn, who quietly took a seat and poured himself a cup of water.
Right behind him was Fendros, dressed in a hastily donned tunic, trousers, and socks, and sporting exhausted bags under his eyes. He stopped by the door to regard Ahnasha with a long, sore look. "Hello, Ahna," he breathed tentatively.
"Sit, Fendros," Calia said in her politely commanding manner. "Let us all break our fast. Then, I think, I should go out to set Llarasa and Monderyn to some chores that need doing on the vineyard."
Monderyn began to breath in. He suddenly understood and closed his mouth.
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