[Story] Once upon a time in Kebre (DMFA-fic)(PG-13)

[Meany]

Ye gods, the Tower's been quiet.  Time to make some noise!  The owl is back, people, and with something to contribute this time!

Before we begin, a brief bit of info about the setting.  Kebre is a D&D-intended slice of Furrae that was created chiefly by Vaelynx for his D&DMFA games.  Ah, good times.  He and I collaborated together on adapting the setting into a forum rp game, but that didn't go anywhere.  So here is the attempt to put it into a fic!  Kebre is inspired by Eastern Europe, with a slice of the West for my contributions.  I'm going to try and not make this story any more severe than a PG-13 rating, but the story may evolve beyond that.

Here's hoping I don't get flamed too hard.

Index
Chapter 1- You are here.
Chapter 2
Chapter 3- Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22



Chapter 1- Meet the Bloodstones

    Hyden always went to the pawn shop near the wharf on Sundays, when the ports were closed and the sailors would be forced to stay and raise hell in the taverns. Usually awesome stuff from around the world would find their way to the pawn shop to pay for grog. Awesome things like dragon scales, maps of long dead nations, statues of Cubi goddesses. Stuff that was decidedly not from dull old Vecenstein with their snow, and their red brick houses, and their nose to the grindstone attitude. Hyden got enough of that from family, more than enough.

    And on one Sunday, when the wharf was closed and sailors needed grog desperately, Hyden found a stack of parchment in a glass case in a plush interior, with a peacock feather quill and bottle of gold ink alongside it. The first sheet of parchment was essentially a cover, implying the rest were arranged into a booklet. A sigil of a canine Demon in gold leaf, a mouse Angel in silver leaf, and a ferret Being in bronze leaf arranged over each other with arms and wings spread took up the center of the parchment. Around the sigil were lines of ink depicting a tropical jungle island with a galleon offshore, and three words in bold calligraphy.

'Ti'baltr Citizenship Application'

    "Is this real?" Hyden asked the old persian cat behind the counter. She'd known him for a few years now, enough to not bother looking up from her crossword puzzles unless he broke something. A grandmotherly woman missing some fingers on her right hand, replaced with steel prosthesis, covered in a shawl and robe of lavender, with hair as white as her fur in a bun, Ms. Zed. She nodded at Hyden while still looking at her paper.

    "The boy who sold it said he'd bartered with a Mer for it. I couldn't give him what he asked, but he left here happy enough," she answered. Hyden leaned in close to the case. Seeing his reflection staring back at him faintly. His forest green wool checked with speckles of bronze. Big brown eyes wide with amazement. He recoiled when his breath started to fog the glass up too much, twisting to make sure his leathery wings did not strike any figures on the shelves behind him. "I doubt anyone in town has the gold for the actual worth of that bit of history. Would you like to hear the story, little demon?" Ms. Zed put down the paper and motioned to a chair near her own seat for the young ram.

    Hyden sat, casting glances at the glass case while the old cat spun her tale. "A couple hundred years ago, Ti'baltr wasn't the big and powerful city it is today. It was little more than a fort that sandalwood loggers lived in. But on the island the fort was built on, there were two warring factions of Creature, you see. A Demon family, and a flight of Angels. 'Two great houses, both alike in dignity', heh. Well, one of the Beings from the fort liked watching the two forces battle, and who wouldn't? When do you see Angels stand and fight anymore?

    "Anyway, this Being started talking to soldiers from the two armies to find out what they were fighting over. Demons today will eat you if you look at them funny, but after a long fight, they'll do just about anything if you help them out of their armor. Turns out the ancestors of the two families had visited a Phoenix oracle who said an empire of great power would emerge from the ruling family of the island. They'd been fightin' since then to make it come true."

    "That sounds awfully direct for a Phoenix oracle, Ms. Zed," Hyden said, frowning. The cat smiled and steepled her fingers.

    "It does, doesn't it? The Angels had thought so too, and been fighting while pondering on it. Well this Being heard this and had a wicked idea. He was a ferret, little demon, you know how they are when they sense the opportunity for causing trouble. When he wasn't off logging, he went to the camps of the two armies and found the heirs of the big families. What do you think he did?"

    "Try to kill them?"

    "No no no, little demon. He did something even worse." Ms. Zed leaned in conspiratorially, casting glances to the storefront, which Hyden mimicked while leaning in turn. The cat whispered, "He married them," then relaxed in her chair, laughing her head off for a moment. Hyden stared at her, confused for a moment, before awkwardly laughing a bit too. "Ooh, sorry little demon. It wasn't quite as quick as that, but yes. That one Being wormed his way into the hearts of both the heirs. 'He's just a Being, so how could he pose a threat', thought their parents.

    "When he proposed to each one, and they accepted, the Being sprung the trap and revealed to them his trick. I don't know what he was doing, or what he wanted, but the leaders of the two armies were downright furious, ready to kill him on principle. But the heirs...." Ms. Zed took on a wistful expression, her eyes focusing on nothing as she was lost in memories. "Mikhail and Nanbi, the Demon and Angel respectively, they loved him. And they wouldn't let their folks lay a finger on the treacherous ferret, not them or the entirety of their armies. That's them on the cover of the booklet."

    "Isn't Mikhail a boy's name?" Hyden tilted his head slightly to the side, confused.

    "The closer you get to the equator, the stranger the people are. It's why only the people up north, like us, are normal. They don't mind that sort of thing down south. So by daisy-chaining the marriage, the Being had made the Demons and Angels one family. The family of the island. They gave him a title of respect, Dominus, and he seemed to like it so much he made it his new name. Without the constant warring, the three groups could settle down and make something of that speck of sand on the globe.

    "When they were their biggest, everyone wanted to be part of Ti'baltr. Those applications were penned and given to nobles, priests, even Creatures. They stopped after... well, it was a big thing. I'm sure it's in the history books somewhere. But those things are rare and valuable these days. Still good, as far as I know. Just fill it out and bam." She gestured flippantly. "Don't know how much longer the magic in it will last, though."

    "So... this Being lied to two people creatively and got them to intimidate their parents into backing down... and people wanted to come live with this guy?"

    "Yeah. Not everyone can say they outwitted Creatures, little demon, let alone Angels." Ms. Zed coughed a little. She always did that when she'd been talking too long. "Sorry, little demon, I think I have to close the shop early today. Did you have anything you wanted to buy?" Hyden glanced at the booklet in the glass case, but shook his head. "Aw well. Maybe I'll have something for you next week. Don't be a stranger."

    Hyden left, pulling on the thickly woven cap and coat he had left on a coat rack near the door. "Bye, Ms. Zed," he said as he left. Outside, the snow had stopped, but it was still gathered in piles along cobblestone streets, or on the brick houses with their twisted onion shaped tops. Vecenstein, a port city in the subarctic of Furrae. The city was only important in that the fjord the comprised its port was easily fortified. A haven from pirates and icebergs.

    That it had a family of demons to bolster their armed forces against those pirates probably helped. Hyden pulled his coat closer to him, and folded his wings down lest a gust carry him off over the houses. Again. The young ram passed many Beings on the way out of the wharf, they hastily crossed the street to avoid walking near him in the kindest instances, and spat at him as he went in the worst. Hyden's mother had told him they were bitter for the need of Demons in their town. That they could not fend off Creatures on their own like the ports down south. Many of Hyden's family took glee in rubbing the Being's noses in it, while Hyden just wanted to them to leave him alone.

    Them and certain members of his family, as he remembered upon seeing a winged figure gliding through the air over a line of buildings to land in the street in front of Hyden. She was a demon ewe, with dark green fleece and jagged dark blue lines mimicking lightning along her arms and legs; dressed in fur-lined scale mail, a sheathed saber at her side, green hair pulled back in a severe braid, expression quietly furious. Hyden stopped his advance to look at the ground near her feet, unable to meet the other demon's gaze.

    "Cousin," she started, her tone inquiring. "You know you're too young to be out here alone. Your mother has told you many times, grandfather has told you many times, both of my parents have told you many times. Do you want adventurers to kidnap you? Is that it?"

    "I always go to the wharf on Sundays...."

    "To meet with that Being woman, yes. I don't care where you go, who you see, or why, cousin. But if you keep going out alone before your horns even grow in, you'll end up dead in the street like your father did." Her tone was showing more and more frustration as she started on him, her black fingers showing their retractable claws. The older sheep grabbed Hyden by the arm painfully tight and flapped her bat wings, propelling the two of them into the air without visible effort. After a moment, Hyden started flapping his too. He wasn't strong enough to fly, but the lift would make his cousin's work easier, and perhaps she'd stop trying to crush his arm.

    "Auriga, you're hurting me."

    "Good. Father says your pain threshold is too low for your age, this will be good practice for you. We're going home, and you can explain to your mother where you were all afternoon." Hyden grumbled a bit, prompting his cousin to halt in the air and yank the young ram up to her face, where she snarled at him with most un-sheepish fangs. "What was that?"

    Hyden flinched at the expression but knew better than to try denying anything. It had never worked on his mother or Uncle. "I said I don't know why she cares given she has a new baby on the way..." Auriga slapped him hard in the face, nearly twisting the ram's head too far. "Ow!"
   
    "Just stop talking until we get home, cousin," Auriga's tone was softer now, seeing how close she'd come to snapping the ram's neck by accident. The trip over the houses and businesses of Vecenstein was passed in silence from then on, Hyden swaying in the breeze while flapping weakly.

    His cousins always hit him. They always did more damage than intended, and they were always sorry allegedly. That didn't stop them hitting him again later. Auriga was usually sorrier than others, but it didn't matter.

    'Home' for Hyden and his family was a tall house in the noble's residential district, far removed from the port of the city, with the ruler's castle in view. Built in the style of some foreign land, the house was gray and black, with high ceilings, tall pointed archways and windows, and statues of grisly figures along the gutters.

    Once inside, Auriga pulled Hyden along by his arm, grip unrelenting as when she was flying. Empty black-eyed undead wandered the halls, doing chores given to them by the lords of the house. But none of Hyden's many cousins were visible. "Where...?"

    "Father called a meeting. We're attacking a pirate nest offshore in a few weeks, so we're putting a plan together. Your mother wanted you to attend, that's how we noticed you were missing."

    "... Did I get you in trouble?" Auriga sighed, and loosened her grip on the ram's arm a bit.

    "A bit, yeah. They're more mad at you, though." With undead servants, it was impossible to ask for directions, so the pair of demon-sheep had to find their parents by looking. Something caught Hyden's eye and he pulled against Auriga for a second to get her to stop, then pointed down a hall.

    In front of one of the sub-kitchens stood an undead stag Being, muscular and marked with bronze stripes mixed in with natural brown. Hyden knew that undead, it rarely left his mother's vicinity. Auriga released the ram as they approached the door, her going for it directly, and Hyden going to the undead.

    "Hey, dad," he said. Hyden moved the stag's arms and clothes around to check for damage. His mother was good on keeping the stag in good condition, but every so often she'd miss something small. Like a chip in the antlers, a tear in the fur, or a scorch mark. Hyden's brief exam revealed no new damages; the undead as always didn't react to the prodding and moving. He hardly noticed that Auriga had knocked and already entered in.

    "Hyden, come grab a mug and have some tea!" Oresse, Hyden's mother waved at him from a table as he came in. She was a ewe, and had similar colors to Auriga, but her dark blue was sweeping and fluid to Auriga's jagged and precise. The only color differences were their hair and eyes: Auriga having blue sclera from her mother, and russet hair, while Oresse had rich green for both. Her belly was swollen with child, and she was dressed in a belted gown decorated with the family namesake gem: bloodstone. In her hands she had a steaming mug of red-brown liquid. The caffeine was obviously helping her mood because she looked positively giddy.

    "Um, no thank you mom," Hyden slumped into a chair at the table. "I'd rather skip to the part where you yell at me." Auriga cuffed him in the back of the head. "Hey!" Oresse took a sip from her mug, reached over and similarly cuffed the young ram. "Hey!"

    "Don't take that long-suffering tone with me, Hyden." His mother's tone was thoroughly cross. "I'm the one who walks around with agonizing back pain for weeks. Anyway, yes you snuck out again without telling anyone, yes there was a moment of panic that passed, don't do it again you'll do it anyway, insert threat to shackle a ball and chain to you here."

    Hyden blinked. "Um. That wasn't what I was expecting."

    "I'm not feeling indulgent right now, son. Where were you anyway?"

    "He was visiting Samis Zed's store again," Auriga spoke up while going to get tea of her own.

    "Not the pawn shop owner? Aww honey, if you have a thing for older women your grandfather has some friends who would love to spend an afternoon with you." Hyden buried his face in his hands, face burning scarlet. "C'mon you're a teenager now, I understand boys your age have... urges. I mean, it's not like your uncle or I didn't have wacky escapades at your age, and finding love with an older woman is perfectly normal."

    "I'm not in love with Ms. Zed," the ram all but shouted. Realizing he'd left his coat and hat on, and that the warmth was making his red face worse. He hastily removed them, using the hat to cover his blush. "I just like seeing the new things she has for sale."

    "... So, she's for sale is it?"

    "Mom!"

    "Alright, alright. Fine. Whatever. Look, I don't want you going out on your own unless you have someone with you," Oresse frowned like she was remembering an old argument. "Or you finally pass your uncle's combat test. One or the other, honey."

    "But Uncle Rayl is a jerk! He doesn't teach anything!" Hyden's face had finally returned to its natural color, and he removed the hat and sat up straight in the chair. Auriga harumphed at the slight against her father, but didn't comment.

    "Then ask your cousins for help. Oh wait, they'll be busy with that pirate thing for the next couple of weeks anyway." The ewe assumed the thinker pose. "Hmm, I think your grandfather could help, his memory's not as good as it used to be but...." She kept talking, but Hyden tuned her out. It was always like this with his family. They wanted him to do things, but didn't want to have to teach him how, or never had time to help.

    He'd never understand how his uncle had raised eight children with no problem, but couldn't manage to help his nephew any. The only one of his cousins with the patience to explain anything was Auriga, and she was busy enough trying to keep her siblings in line. Oresse snapping her fingers in Hyden's face brought him back to the world, and from the expression on her face, the ram guessed he'd been too obvious in tuning her out.

    "Ugh, look. I'll talk to Father about talking to you, seeing where Rayl and I are messing up at least. Auri, thank you for picking him up with minimal fuss, I'll make sure you're paid overtime rates for this." The lightning-marked ewe muttered her thanks and left with her mug of tea. Oresse left soon after, complaining that she needed a foot rub. The stag undead followed after her.

    Hyden grabbed himself a snack, and left for his room. Not much left to do today. And he'd need all the energy he could store for his grandfather's undivided attention.

    From what Hyden was hearing secondhand from his cousins in the days following was that his Grandfather was too busy to come help his youngest grandson, which had prompted a screaming match between he and Oresse. One week passed, and the young ram was ready to sneak out to Ms. Zed's shop again while his cousins were busy getting ready for work, and Uncle Rayl was still doing paperwork.

    There was another customer in the shop when he arrived; so the ram amused himself by looking at the new items for sale. The booklet in the glass case was still there, but now had a price tag. An alarmingly high price tag, Hyden found on closer inspection. Ms. Zed had been fine with him getting close to it last week, but in the face of such numbers, the winged ram elected not to push his luck a second time.

    A stately pocketwatch made of steel, depicting a canine demon, wings spread and sword bloody on the cover drew his attention. A bit of magic in the metal, and the affordable price drew Hyden's curiosity. The sucking feeling from his back and sudden slowing of his sensory input drew his attention.

    "And- oh, one second sir. Little demon," Ms. Zed ambled over to the young ram, and gently took the watch out of Hyden's hands, and put it back on its shelf. "I'm afraid you're a bit young for a Creature-Being amulet. It'll stunt your growth if you use it at this age. Maybe in a few years, hmm?" She smiled, and turned back to the customer she had left. Hyden sighed and started looking again.

    Five minutes later, Hyden volunteered to help the customer get their newly purchased armoire out the door and into their wagon. Not difficult for the ram, even for him the furniture was light as a feather. Ms. Zed seemed appreciative when he returned, at least.

    "Hmm, little demon. Maybe I should give you a job," said the cat, walking through the aisles checking items and adjusting some that had been moved by the customer. "I might offer an apprenticeship, if your mother would accept."

    "Mom might not be in the best condition to ask..." Hyden adjusted his collar awkwardly.

    "Oh? Bad raid?"

    "She's, um. Very pregnant."

    "Ah, say no more. I remember when your mother was pregnant with you, she had quite the mood swings the rumors say. Still, you've been by for weeks, you listen to me tell the stories of these items, rarely buy anything, and I'm not getting any younger. How about it?"

    "I'd love to try," Hyden replied honestly. "This is the most fun place in town, learning how to run a store like it would be great!" Ms. Zed looked a bit sad, but hid it quickly.

    "Well, I have some books from down south, supposedly penned by an Angel that I need to verify, would you like to learn how to authenticate such books before going home to talk to your mother about it?" The persian cat went behind her desk and pulled up a stack of leather bound tomes, along with a notebook. Hyden eagerly pulled up a stool next to her.

    "Sure, how's it done?"

    "Well we're lucky this time. The Angel who allegedly penned these books is still alive, so we start by going through my pocketbook for his phone number...."

    That evening, when Hyden's head was full of the tricks forgers would play to falsely age books, and of some simple spells to detect them, he tried to propose the idea of the apprenticeship to his mother after the evening meal. Unfortunately, either he spoke too loudly or had timed it wrong...

    "Absolutely not!"

    Because his Uncle Rayl had heard enough to comment on it. Rayl, who was the spitting image of his father at four hundred years old; a well-built ram of green and blue fleece, the blue being in thin lines that followed major tendons on a green base; with the same green eyes and hair as Oresse, but in a shorter, more combat efficient style. His horns ended in metal caps, a requirement of all Bloodstone males while in Vecenstein, and as always dressed in a mix of dinner attire and armored plate.

    "Oresse, you cannot be considering this," Rayl growled, closing the door to the dining hall quickly before any of his brood decided to eavesdrop. "Hyden is your firstborn, he'll be an example to the newborn and the children to follow; and he wants to be a merchant?!"

    "Rayl, brother dear," Oresse pointedly stepped between Hyden, who had his gaze locked firmly on his shoes, and her brother. "Hyden is my son. You're not his father, you're not my father, you don't get to decide these sort of things for him or me." Rayl did not back down, instead pushing the shorter sheep demon back a step by the shoulders, huffing and puffing in anger.

    "You're in no state to make decisions, Oresse. Your mind is the plaything of your fool hormones. Where's that new husband you took, he'll sort this out and make you see reason!" Hyden started to rapidly back away as Oresse flared her wings and bared fang on the older ram.

    "Cral is not my owner, Rayl. He can't make me do anything any more than you can. And if you don't back the hell off and let me and my son talk I will rip your wings off again to prove it!" Once more, Rayl did not back down, mirroring Oresse's motions but the more intimidating for his size and aggressive demeanor.

    "Please, don't fight-" Hyden tried to speak up but the enraged glares of his mother and uncle combined focusing on him drove what he was going to say next to a frightened 'meep.' Oresse softened from it, but Rayl pushed passed her to pick Hyden up by his shirt.

    "A merchant?! One of the Bloodstone Demons, butchers of the northern realms, a merchant?!" The bigger ram shook Hyden like he was a ragdoll, and compared to a four hundred-odd old Demon, he might as well have been. "Have you no pride? No ambition? It's that Being woman your mother tells me you're having romantic trysts with, isn't it? I'll have her head on a spike for putting such thoughts in your- urk."

    Hyden was used to being talked down too, yelled at, and shaken for having 'foolish' ideas. According to Auriga, some were simply to see where his patience ended, where his line in the sand was. Threatening his mother was one thing, even hormonal and pregnant, she was Rayl's older sister and thus proportionally stronger. But threatening Ms. Zed, who never yelled, always had a kind word or a story to tell, who actually explained things to him when he didn't understand pushed a button in Hyden. The younger ram's vision turned to a haze of opaque bronze, and he felt his foot pull back and kick Rayl somewhere squishy that apparently hurt. Hurt a lot.

    Rayl released his nephew, doubling over with a pained snarl, but was not given the time to react. Hyden pulled his foot back and struck in that same spot, again and again, many times in rapid succession each one harder than the last as he put more and more of the urge to cause Rayl pain into the attack. By the time the young ram's vision cleared, Rayl was on the ground, rolling and whining in pain while folding his wings over himself. Oresse looked on, slackjawed.

    An ugly, wheezing laugh filled the air. Hyden turned to see his grandfather coming down the hall with Auriga at his side. Hyden didn't know his grandfather's name, everyone in the family called him Grandfather or Father, depending on relation. The ancient ram was starting to gray at the edges of his hair and fleece, but physically still powerful. "There," the patriarch said, holding hands up to clap Hyden on the shoulders, "is the grandson I have waited fourteen years to see!" Hyden didn't react, stunned that his grandfather seemed happy to see him for the first time in his life. "And took Rayl by surprise, not bad at all. Oresse, you and your boy can go finish your talk if you like." Grandfather strode past the younger Demons, grabbed Rayl by the horns, and kept walking. "Rayl and I need to speak some."

    Oresse herded Hyden down the hall, casting a look to Auriga that the younger ewe didn't acknowledge. When they were two hallways away the ewe hugged her son, and was smiling when she let him go. "I'm so proud of you."

    "That I didn't let Uncle Rayl push me around?" Hyden felt a bit lightheaded from the energy expenditure, so leaned on a nearby wall.

    "Well yes that. But more that you managed to kick him in the crotch thirty-seven times." Oresse took on a nostalgic expression and sighed. "Your father only managed twenty when Rayl first tried pushing him around. I'm sure he'd be proud too." The young ram noted that the stag undead hadn't been anywhere during dinner, or the fight, and looked around for it.

    "Where is dad, anyway?"

    "Hmm? Oh I had it stay in my chambers dusting and scrubbing the crib. Just brought it out of storage this morning."

    "Storage? You're using my old crib?" Oresse looked scandalized, and shook her head emphatically.

    "Oh heavens no, honey. You were positively sedate as a baby. This little monster," she rubbed her belly affectionately at that, "is a full Demon. No, I had to find the crib Rayl used for his kids, it's enchanted iron so the baby can't chew through the bars."

    "Isn't that bad for its teeth?"

    "No, it sharpens them. We had to use a file on yours because you wouldn't bite at anything until you were two." Hyden smiled awkwardly, while Oresse smoothed out her fleece from where it had stood on end during her confrontation with Rayl. "Anyway, this merchant business." Dread creeped into the ram's heart when he heard her use the 'business' voice. Cold, impartial, revealing nothing about her intentions. "I don't mind if you take some lessons, but I cannot agree to a full apprenticeship. You're too young, and with your combat ability, we'd have to ask Auriga to seriously cut into her work hours to watch you, and that's not fair to her. Though," she smiled conspiratorially, "given your little display a few minutes ago, I think you could get Rayl to actually teach you how to fight some. Father's still too busy, I'm afraid.

    "So train a bit, wait a couple of years, strong arm Rayl into teaching you something, and I'll let you become Samis' apprentice, if she's still alive by then. Sound like a deal?"

    Hyden didn't try to hide how disappointed he felt, but he was not skilled with the 'adorable eyes' technique, so it had no effect on the Demon-ewe. "Yeah, I guess that's okay."

    "I know it doesn't seem like it, honey, but this is for the best. We wouldn't want an off the leash adventurer putting you to the sword, would we?"

    "Dad was an adventurer...."

    "Your father," the ewe looked downcast for a moment, "was one of the good ones. The ones who stop and think before stabbing someone. Those aren't common anymore, for good reason." The two were quiet for a moment, mourning the stag they both saw on a regular basis. "My decision stands. Now it's getting late, you should go to bed." The ewe pulled Hyden in for a hug, that he didn't fight against. "Goodnight, honey."

    "Night mom."

    Life continued for Hyden much as it had before for the remainder of the week. Pay loose attention to his tutors, avoid his uncle's side of the family like the plague, and check up on the stag undead that had been his father once a day. When Sunday grew near, the ram seriously considered not going to Ms. Zed's shop, to tell her the bad news. But when Sunday came, Hyden found Auriga in full kit waiting for him outside his room.

    "You are going to the store," she said in a tone that left no room for argument. "You will tell her your mothers decision, and you will abide by it. You will have one hour to spend with her however you wish, and then you will return here to your room for the remainder of the day."

    "What's going on?" Hyden's ears were flat against his head, knowing there was something wrong with this situation.

    "My father has pushed the raid of the pirate base to today. Your mother has gone to visit your stepfather and his family in the countryside and will not return for two days. I am to be your babysitter until she returns, or Grandfather has time to deal with you. My workload has tripled with so many of my bloodline gone to battle, and I will not have you adding to the problems." She sighed seeing the younger ram try to withdraw into his tunic under her unblinking stare. "Tomorrow, when my siblings are back, I will have more time to watch you. If my father does not need me for much, perhaps I can teach you some hand-to-hand fighting. Now grab your coat, and let's go."

    Auriga walked with Hyden to Ms. Zed's shop, giving the young Demon an even wider radius of Being-avoidance. It was much earlier than he usually went, not even ten in the morning yet. He had to slow down so that they'd be there when Ms. Zed was opening the store, which Auiga did not comment on if she noticed. Even with the slowness, Ms. Zed was still fumbling with the store keys when they arrived.

    "Hyden, you're here early," she commented lightly. The cat gave Auriga a look out of the corner of her eye. "And you brought a... friend with a sword."

    "This is my cousin, Auriga. She's going to be watching me today," Hyden told her, trying to put some pep into his voice. "I can only stay an hour though, she has to work."

    "Hmm? A pity." The store's door opened, and Ms. Zed let Hyden and Auriga enter in, and start to turn on the lights. "Brr, frigid in the mornings. Hyden, I trust you to not let your cousin steal anything while I get the heater started." The cat went to the back of the store, leaving to two sheep alone.

    "I will be back in one hour," Auriga huffed, and went for the door. "Do not leave until I arrive for you." Hyden stuck his tongue out at her back as she left. Ms. Zed enlisted the ram's help in placing price tags on the week's worth of new loot, mostly small stuff. Baubles, knives, a silver picture frame only slightly tarnished.

    "Mom said no to the apprenticeship," Hyden blurted out when it was clear Ms. Zed wasn't going to push it. "She said I'm too young and not good enough of a fighter."

    "Hmm," was the cat's reply. "The too young thing I can understand. But little demon, why does she think you're a poor fighter?" The ram looked down at his feet, kicking them in his chair.

    "I'm only a half-demon, my dad was a Being."

    "Yes I know, little demon. What else?" He looked up, alarmed and gave her a confused look. "I knew Sebur when he was alive, everyone knew him, he was the talk of the taverns for a year when he married old Bloodstone's daughter. It's why I call you little demon, and not little Demon."

    "But... I... there's no difference?"

    "Well not one you'd see, I suppose. Now, what else?"

    "Well... I guess it's because Uncle Rayl just goes on and on over how weak I am compared to his kids. And how I shouldn't have problems doing things, rather than explaining what I'm doing wrong."

    "Your uncle has other children? Why don't they help?"

    "Auriga's the only one with the patience for me, and she's always busy. My other cousins are kind of mean, they hit me a lot."

    "And your mother allows that, does she?" Ms. Zed hadn't changed her tone from the polite conversational one she'd started with, but there was something different. Like the cat was forcing the tone, rather than letting it just be.

    "They say they're sorry after... and Mom's usually busy too, doing work for the Duke. She's only home so much now because she's pregnant. When Dad was around...." Ms. Zed reached over and patted Hyden on the shoulder.

    "I understand." They worked a bit longer, until all the items were priced and tagged, whereupon Ms. Zed pushed the items aside on her desk and gave Hyden a serious look. "Do you want to stay with them?"

    "What?"

    "Do you want to stay with your family? Given how they're treating you." It was like Ms. Zed had started to vomit newspaper-wrapped fish. A situation so bizarre that the ram stopped trying to process it for a second.

    "They're my family-"

    "Family doesn't hit you and pretend to be sorry, family doesn't make you feel like a burden, family doesn't stonewall your growth because of who your father was. You've bought and read enough books from this store in the past six years to know that, little demon." The cat was incensed. Her fur poofing out slightly and her claws showing on her hands.

    "What's with you, Ms. Zed? You've never acted this angry over the stuff my family does..."

    "An old woman can put up with stories of chronic cruelty for only so long, little demon. Do you want to stay with them?" The idea of up and.. leaving the family. Sure, they were jerks and he hadn't actually been all that happy since his father died...

    "I don't want to talk about this, Ms. Zed."

    "No one does, little demon. It still needs to be dealt with." The cat sighed and relaxed. "But you're not going to give me an honest answer in this state. Your hour's nearly up, so your cousin will be here soon... I just want you to know, you can come here if things at home get too bad." Hyden nodded, stood, and gathered his hat and coat. "Little demon?"

    "I'll see you next week, Ms. Zed," the ram said quickly, leaving the store before his coat was all the way on. He had to get away from the cat, from the question of wanting to stay or not. He couldn't leave the family, that was... that was wrong! Family stuck together, even if they made each other miserable... right? "Can't leave. Who will take care of dad? Who'll keep those jerks from hurting the new baby?" Hyden muttered to himself. Pulling on his coat and hat as the cold from the outside struck him.

    He made it back to the house just as Auriga was getting ready to pick him up, and endured a heated lecture from her about the dangers of random adventurers in the streets knocking arrows at him as he passed. He wasn't subtle about tuning her out, and earned a cuff on the back of the head for his effort. The question 'do you want to stay?' hounded at him despite his wanting it to go away, as he sat in his room reading books that told stories of the lands in the distant south. Where families were warm and happy, and adventurers saved people from the horrible monsters.

    Rayl and his brood returned near dinner, victorious in their raid and demanding food and booze for their effort. With dinner being so close, Hyden left his room and went off to his mother's chamber to see if she'd left Hyden's father behind. Would be rather silly to bring the corpse of your ex-husband to visit your current one, the ram assumed. He was right, the stag was standing near the closet, without moving.

    "Hey dad," the ram said, fussing over the state of the undead. When he was done, he looked up to the eyes... nonreflective black. "You'd want me to stay, right? You stayed." He'd also been a veteran adventurer, able to kick Rayl twenty times in the groin without demon strength or speed, but Hyden tried not to remember that. "You wouldn't want me to go away... right?"

    "Aww, lookit brother. Hyden's having a touching moment with his mom's furniture." The ram tried hard not to bristle at the voice of one of his cousins. Seross, the second youngest of Rayl's brood, never far away from the youngest, Asir. The blue present in their father's fleece replaced by red from their mother, their horns more similar to gazelle than sheep. Hyden didn't turn to face them, electing to pat dust off the undead's green clothes.

    "What's the matter, cousin," the voice of the older-by-only-six-months Asir said as he approached. "Not feeling chatty?"

    "Get out of my mom's room," Hyden snarled quietly.

    "Aww come now, cousin. That's not a very friendly tone. We're just wondering about your mental health given you're talking to dead people." The slightly older ram reached over Hyden and flicked the stag in the neck with a claw, tearing the skin slightly. Hyden rushed up to reach the tear, pouring magic into the wound to mend it quickly. "See, you're getting a bit obsessive with this one."

    "Get out."

    "Alright fine, but you're coming with us. I'll get his legs, brother." Sure enough, Asir crouched down and grabbed Hyden by the calves while Seross pinned his wings and arms to his chest with a bear hug. The two older Demons lugged the squirming and snarling Hyden out of the room, with Seross flippantly kicking the door shut.

    "Let me go, jerks!"

    "Aww, but cousin," Seross started in a false hurt tone. "We've been meaning to chat with you."

    "You've had all week to talk to me!"

    "Nah, see big sis has been keeping us busy. But right now she's taking a nap, so we can have a short," Seross squeezed until Hyden had to start gasping for breath, "but intense conversation, right brother?"

    "Sure thing," Asir nodded in agreement. "Open this door," he told an undead servant, who stopped polishing a decorative vase to open a storage room door for him. "Return to your routine," and so it did. The two older Demons chucked the younger into the room and entered themselves, Seross closing the door behind him.

    Hyden had been on the receiving end of a few mean spirited smacks and kicks in his time, but had never been beaten up. So when the punches and stomps started to rain from his cousins, he had no idea what to do other than curl up and snap at one of their feet when that didn't work.

    "Ouch!" Asir shouted, hopping on his good foot, while applying healing magic to the bleeding one. "Jerk drew blood!"

    "Yeah, that stops little Hyden," said Seross, flaring his wings menacingly. "First you kick our dad when he tells you how stupid you're being, then you bite my brother when he generously tries teaching you a lesson in humility," Seross kicked Hyden hard in the ribs then, baring fang and sending the younger ram skidding into the wall, then turning to Asir like the other was a wizened philosopher. "I think the little freak needs a stronger lesson in humility. What do you say, brother?"

    "Well, we could burn up that undead he likes so much. I think it was his dad? Would help Aunt Oresse move on too, not having to look at it every day, right?" No, Hyden thought. They wouldn't.

    "Hmm, but auntie would get mad with the destruction of her undead. What about that Being woman he goes to see every week?"

    "Oh yeah. Beings are everywhere in this town, they'd never miss an old one that owns some shanty. Let's go burn her up and her house too."

    "Sounds like a plan, brother." Seross grinned malevolently down at Hyden, who seemed stunned at the notion. "Don't go anywhere, cousin. We'll be sure to bring you what's left."

    They're going to kill her, Hyden thought. And no one else in the family would care enough to stop them. He couldn't let them do it, he had to stop them. It hurt to stand up, as they were going to the door, but he did. He couldn't rush them both, he'd have to hit them with magic, one of his better, but still bad, skills.

    Hyden's vision turned once more to the bronze haze, as light grew in the small room. The two older rams turned back to look, curious, as one thought filled Hyden's mind to the exclusion of all else:

    BURN
   
    The resulting explosion knocked all three youngsters unconscious.

    Hyden woke nauseous, rolling onto his side to dry heave.  A hand patted him on the back while he retched.  "Easy there, little demon," said a familiar voice softly.

    "Ms. Zed?"  The ram croaked, then clamped his mouth down on another retch.

    "Yes... and no.  I'm getting you out of here, little demon."  Hands guided him to his feet, Hyden briefly acknowledged the blurs of color that comprised his vision as his bedroom.  "Up ya get."  A portion of a bat wing came into his view; causing Hyden to try jerking away from the person helping him up, and fall onto his bed again.  "Come on, little demon, we have to work fast."

    His vision clearing, Hyden managed to get a look at the other person.  A white-furred feline, yes.  But gone were the wrinkles, squashed face, or pale hair that Hyden knew to associate with Ms. Zed, replaced with a vivacious figure in the matronly clothes, a leonine face, and pink hair.  Bat wings extended from her back; a mix of black and pink, a second, smaller pair resting among her hair.  Her eyes were the same shade of pink as her hair; and seemed to glow of their own accord.  Hyden noticed by this glow and the moonlight coming in that it was night. "Y-you're not Ms. Zed," the ram said, trying to scoot away.

    "I told you," the cat said with Ms. Zed's voice.  "I am, and I'm not.  You're injured, we need to get you out of here," she grabbed his arm with the hand that had previously been missing fingers.  Hyden tried to get away, and shout but he retched instead.  "There isn't time, we need to go, now."  The world outside of him and the cat started to darken.  For a moment, the ram nearly passed out, but a shake from the cat drove it away.  "Damn, the sleep spell they had you under is still trying to work through."

    "Who... who are you?"  The darkness was lifting, revealing the Ms. Zed's shop.  Hyden was seated in the armchair Ms. Zed usually reserved for herself.  The cat quickly released him, and went around the store, picking up random items and ignoring his question.  An attempt to stand resulted in vertigo, and stumbling into a shelf.

    "Damnit, don't try walking," the cat brought her armfull of items to the table between the armchair and the lesser chair Hyden usually sat in.  "Just one last thing, and we should be good to go."  The feline left again, and returned with the glass case that contained the Ti'baltr booklet, before dragging Hyden back to the chair.

    "Who are you?"  The ram said, trying to snarl but almost truly vomiting for the effort.  There was magic at work in him, he was now awake enough to know.  Two spells of opposite effects trying to neutralize the other, and making him sick from their fight.

    "If it will make you feel better, my name is Isarra.  I posed as the person you knew as Samis Zed," and here the cat glared at Hyden while arranging the items she had plucked from her shelves in a seemingly random arrangement, "whom I did not murder because she died of natural causes fifteen years ago, I will show you the death certificate if I need to.  I'm a spy for the Ti'baltr Trading Company."

    Hyden stopped and blinked for a few minutes, in which the headwinged feline shoved the
glass case into his lap.  The baubles on the table shone yellow for a moment, then returned to their normal state.  "What?"

    "It's a ward array, so your family can't just barge in here," the cat explained as if that was obviously what the ram had been inquiring about.

    "No, I mean... why would you spy on Vecenstein of all places?"

    "It's a safe harbor in the northern realms, Ti'baltr's interested in getting a trading outpost up here.  But that's not important right now," Isarra, if that was really her name, took the case back, opened it up, and took the booklet out while sitting in Hyden's usual chair.  "We need to hurry and fill this out for you."

    "...What?!"  The ram immediately regretted yelling as he felt at least four different kinds of woozy.  "I.. what?"

    "Oh right, it's been a couple of days that they kept you asleep."  The feline took the peacock feather quill, and uncapped the vial of golden ink.  "The explosion you made set part of your house on fire."

    "What?"

    "Let me finish.  It set part of your house on fire and your cousins from what I learned are seriously hurt.  Your uncle, I think it was your uncle anyway, wanted to have you killed for what you did, your mother and he had a rather big fight over it.  The stress put her into early labor, and your grandfather had to be summoned from the Duke's castle to stabilize the situation."  It was like one drawn out 'bad news' option.  The ram gaped at the cat, unable to formulate a response.  "Your mother has been moved to the Great Hospital in the capital, along with your cousins.  They put you under a sleep spell so you wouldn't cause any more trouble."

    "Mom won't let him hurt me."  The ram watched as the cat started rapidly writing in the booklet.  "Why are you doing that?  Didn't you say you work for Ti'baltr already?"

    "I'm not filling it out for me, I'm doing it for you.  What's your mother's name?  Oresse, right."  She continued to write, dipping the quill in the gold ink every so often.  "The thing is, the town decided it didn't want Demons in it anymore, and they called a meeting.  Since I was playing the role of Samis, I listened in on their plans."  She looked sadly at the ram before returning to the booklet.  "They're going to mob the house tonight.  That's why I stole in to get you out, you'd be killed for sure."

    "The... they're going to mob my family?"  The cat nodded, continuing to work while images of the great hall being broken down, family members crushing the intruders with vicious glee filled his mind.  "I don't think that's going to end well for them."

    "It might, or it might not.  They've got adventurers leading this mob.  And the mayor's men too.  With so many of the big wigs in your family gone to the Great Hospital, I don't know how well your family will do."  Hyden, still feeling awful, tried to stand again.  "Stop doing that," the cat's wing formed into a long leathery tentacle and pushed him back into the chair.

    "I have to warn them, let them know."

    "You have to do no such thing.  What you have to do is sign here, and let me get you safely out of here."

    "I can't just leave them," the ram shouted.  Not caring if he felt sick anymore.  "I can't just say I didn't even try to help them!"  His father would be so disappointed in him if he did.

    "I know it feels like that, little demon."  And the cat sounded like she meant it.  "But there isn't time for heroics."  She stood, grabbed the demon by the arm, and stretched it out.  The tentacle from earlier swiped along his hand, opening a bleeding wound which the feline pressed to a page in the booklet.  "There, the signed in blood clause forgoes the signature."

    "Ow!  Why are you doing this?"  Hyden pulled on the arm, getting the strength to yank it out of her grip a second later.

    "Because you need to get out of here before this bloodbath starts.  I'm sorry," she closed the booklet, which started to glow the same shade of gold as the ink she had used, "but I'd rather you be upset with me for giving you no choice than yourself for making one."

    "You-"
     
    "Sleep," the cat waved her hand, trailing yellow energy from her fingers, and Hyden drifted off once again, cursing her as he went. 

    The town ablaze.  People running through the streets to be chased down and consumed by the grinning army of mini-Rayls.  Auriga yelling at how she was too busy counting the cobblestones in the road to help Hyden with the sixty newborns his mother had brought home.  Grandfather calling a meeting to announce he had figured out how to make himself permanently invisible.  Ms. Zed peeling her own face off.

    Hyden's dreams were not pleasant.  When he woke from them, the ram was relieved to see them end, before taking in his surroundings.  He was on an alarmingly soft bed, one that seemed filled with... water?  He poked it a few times, and confirmed it was definitely filled with liquid of some kind. 

    The room he was in was wood; but of a different sort than he was used to.  The wood was paler, with stripes of dark in it; and assembled in a style he had never seen.  The windows of the room were glass, clear at the middle and base, but with a circle of colored glass at the top in the same arrangement as had been on the cover of the Ti'baltr application: A gold canine Demon, a silver mouse Angel, and a bronze ferret Being overlapping. 

    There was a faint swaying to the room, and Hyden could faintly hear the cry of gulls.  'I'm on a boat,' he realized.  'A Ti'baltr boat.'  The memories of his talk with the person who had pretended to be Ms. Zed came back.  'She had wings on her head... a succubus?'  Cubi, a race similar to Angels and Demons, but focused on deception and shapeshifting where the other two focused on power.  The ram couldn't remember much of their abilities; there were too many contradicting legends.

    'I have to get back home, maybe the town saw reason.'  He didn't really believe it, but he had to get back.  He had to at least try to stop the slaughter before it started.  His long ears swiveled at a sound, footsteps approaching the intricately carved door.  Flicking out his own claws, and prepping a fireball to hurl at the first provocation, Hyden climbed from the bed, with a bit of difficulty, and advanced.

    When he opened the door, a surprised looking bespectacled llama and a canine, their colors marking them as Beings, and both dressed in livery of blue and bronze.  "I want off of this boat, and no one is going to stop me."

    The two Beings shared a look, and shrugged.  "Fine by me," said the dog in a heavily twanged accent.

    "If you're well enough to walk and make threats, I assume you can make your own decisions," said the llama, also in the accent.  They both stood aside, letting Hyden walk out into a hall of similar doors.  He moved not to let his back be to them, until he could find the stairs.  He passed other Beings of various species that all bore what the ram assumed was Ti'baltr livery, none of them tried to stop him as he found the stairs, and made his way up.

    'I guess this is working,' he thought as he went.  'I'll go up to the deck, swim to shore, and make my way back to town.  This should be easy!'  And reach the deck he did.  For a ship, it was remarkably low on men scrubbing decks or tending the sails from what he'd read.  The ones up there gave him a quick look before returning to their routine.  Sensing something amiss in their not considering him a flight risk, Hyden cautiously approached the rail...

    And looked out on an endless field of blue as far as his eyes could see in every direction.  The ram stared at this featureless plain of water.  No clouds in the sky, no fish in the water.  Just still blue water.  How long had he been asleep?  How far away from home was he?!

    "You look confused."  Hyden was starting to suspect everyone on the ship had the twanged accent, when another voice started speaking with it, from his side.  Sitting on the rail, as if he had been there from the start was a ferret.  Hair, eyes, and fur all differing shades of brown.  Wearing what Hyden would consider frighteningly thin pants, shirt, and an open coat all made of shiny fabric.

    "Um... yeah.  Confused is a word I would use."

    "Weird accent you got there, boy," the ferret grinned bearing impressively sharp teeth.  "Well if you have questions, I'm the man to answer them."  He held out his tiny, relative to Hyden's, hand for shaking.  "I'm the captain of this here boat.  Domino Ti'balt.  Welcome aboard."


Feedback is desired, critique while painful is welcome.  Questions will be answered, and on thursdays there's free doughnuts.

[VAE]

Well, if we're to be technical, Vecenstein is Ister Union territory - Governorate of Kebre's northern neighbour. The operative setting name was Bones of an Empire since the Basileus Imperium's remains is where everything takes place.

As for the story however... I proofread this and have to repeat how much I love it, especially the very realistic unholy mess the little Demon's family is.

[Tapewolf]

I enjoyed that and am eager to see more.

[ZacAttac21]

"Sitting on the rail, as if he had been there from the start was a ferret.  Hair, eyes, and fur all differing shades of brown.  Wearing what Hyden would consider frighteningly thin pants, shirt, and an open coat all made of shiny fabric."

I smell a 'Cubi.

[Meany]

Not to quash plots, but when you've spent your entire life in somewhere as consistently cold as Vecenstein; think St. Petersburg or Iqualit, and you see someone dressed for the equator, what would you describe their fashion like?

[ZacAttac21]

Not to quash plots, but when you've spent your entire life in somewhere as consistently cold as Vecenstein; think St. Petersburg or Iqualit, and you see someone dressed for the equator, what would you describe their fashion like?

Oh. Poop. Guess he's just a descendant of Dominus, then?

[Tapewolf]

Oh. Poop. Guess he's just a descendant of Dominus, then?

It wouldn't shock me if Dominus himself was a disguised 'Cubi.  Deception and all.  That their spy is a succubus is also something that caught my attention, but I guess we'll see how things unfold.

[ZacAttac21]

Oh. Poop. Guess he's just a descendant of Dominus, then?

It wouldn't shock me if Dominus himself was a disguised 'Cubi.  Deception and all.  That their spy is a succubus is also something that caught my attention, but I guess we'll see how things unfold.

That's what I thought. But I can't tell if Meany is saying that he's not a 'Cubi or if he's just trying to confuse me. Either way, it's working. *Lol*

Screw it. I'm still going to bank that he's a 'Cubi until there's definitive proof otherwise.

[Meany]

Well the next chapter is from Domino's perspective, so it should help make things clearer.

[Meany]

The world is cruel.  And I, more so.

Chapter 2- Captain, My Captain

    It had been a perfectly normal run.  Pick up cargo, deliver cargo, ensure the paperwork was all signed and dotted where needed.  Not exactly open-heart surgery.  The crew of the Harridan had been looking forward to a simple run, they had been on an alarming number of special missions recently, and it was viewed as a time to unwind.

    The Harridan was a three masted brig serving in the fleet of the Ti'baltr trading company.  She was one of fourteen ships that had been given rust-proof steel armor on her sides, enchanted sails and rudders, and even the experimental steam engines and paddlewheels imported from Ha'khun.  In short, she was a fast, strong, and vicious old biddy of a ship; hence her name.  The main use for her in the fleet: Loss prevention.

    This meant she and her crew would be informed of raids on the transport fleet, use the tracking charms to find the stolen cargo, raid the raiders, and retrieve it before it was sold on the black market.  To facilitate this, her crew was drawn from the same ranks as a ship of the line would have.  Creatures, ex-adventurers, mages, war veterans.  Naturally, after so many such missions in succession, a break was key to the mental health of the crew.

    That was why the Harridan's captain, Domino Ti'balt, was seriously considering ignoring the distress beacon pinging and blinking on the magical globe in his quarters.  Ister Union, Borovec Duchy, Vecenstein.  As far out of the way as one could be without hitting the polar cap.  Even being days away at full sail, the Harridan was the closest ship to the beacon.

    Domino, a ferret, was not especially kind.  Or merciful.  Or compassionate.  Were his ship not so close, he wouldn't even be considering taking the rescue mission.  But the facts were that it was, and he had to chose whether he wanted to put his crew at risk, and save the citizen in distress.

    Pacing the captain's cabin, the ferret considered what to do.  Going would make the cargo late, which would reduce the Company's profit for the delivery to near-zero.  But leaving a citizen to die would instigate a blood feud with their murderer, and he'd likely have to partake in the purge to follow.

    The captain's cabin of the Harridan was a self-contained apartment suite.  The main room housing the bed, chest of drawers, changing screen, dining table and chairs, along with a variety of magical implements that no one but Domino and the Second Officer knew how to operate.  One of which was the enchanted globe that let all captains of the Ti'baltr navy know of all distress beacon activations across the globe.

    Sighing, the ferret rubbed his face, frustrated by the decision becoming clearer in his mind.  "I better get shore leave for this," he grumbled knowing full well he wouldn't get any and went to his chest of drawers.  Sized down for his short stature, an elegant piece of Ti'baltr woodworking.  Woodworking was some of their finest craft, given the centuries of use.  On top of the dresser was the phone; a rotary dial with each number assigned to a region of the ship.  The dial itself set into an orb stuffed in the mouth of a decapitated dragon head, while a ferret held the receiver over his head in victory.

    Dialing 'two' Domino waited for the Second Officer to pick up.  "Yes, captain?"  Came the cool and controlled voice of Urd Canora, ex-adventurer, bat, and consummate professional.  Years of proper college education had robbed the poor girl of her rightful Ti'baltr accent.  She sounded like one of those flat-voiced people in Kebre.  Poor thing.

    "Calling an officer's meeting, get everyone together would ya?  Get on the horn with files and records, get us the file on the Company's agent in Vecenstein."

    "Of course, captain.  Will there be anything else?"

    "Do remember your Company mandated two minutes of smiling during the meeting, that will be all."

    "Of course, sir."  Hanging up the phone, Domino picked it back up and dialed the helm, instructing them to go full sail, north northeast of the current position.  The helmsman didn't comment on the change of heading beyond a tired sigh.  Domino understood the tiredness.  He was tired too.

    Still, with an officer's meeting, and a rescue mission likely, there was only one thing Domino could do to prepare: Gussy up.  The position of Captain, in the Ti'baltr navy was strangely precarious.  Particularly when so many Creatures were used for marines abroad.  More than one Demon had tried to use their superior might to mutiny.  More than one had come close to succeeding.  In some ways, the Captain was a figurehead, having no authority over the day-to-day running of his ship unless a dispute between officers emerged.  In other ways, the Captain was vital; keeping morale up, inspiring the young officers to stay with the Navy long enough to become old officers, and keeping the enlisted personnel happily motivated.

    The best way to do all of those things was to appear as a reasonable authority figure to the enlisted personnel, but a puppet to the officers.  In Domino's case, he implied more than once to other officers that he consulted Urd on strategy and policy; neither of which were true.  For his efforts, any ambitious members of his crew saw him as a fop spouting the daring and cunning plans of Ms. Canora, who was protected from any failures by his existence.

    So the ferret played up the fop angle in public, wearing expensive shiny silk clothes, putting extreme care into his fur and hair, wearing a ring on each finger, fancy belts with prominent buckles.  A fancy hat with an ostrich feather, and an enchanted choker; things like that.  Aside from the seemingly decorative cutlass at his side, he would appear non-threatening to anything short of a gaudy Cubi.  Which is why he usually had Urd talk with those.

    Speaking of, while Domino was behind his changing screen rubbing sandalwood oil into his fur, his door opened and closed rapidly.  "That you, Urd?"

    "Yes, sir," said her disembodied voice.  "I have the file you requested, shall I read it, or do you require assistance?"

    "I'd like your opinion on shirt color before we begin, actually."  The ferret leaned out from behind the screen, holding two silk shirts over one arm.  "Dusty pink or lilac?"

    "Pink.  The others are likely to react negatively to the change in mission parameters, the pink will help keep them from focusing aggression at you."

    "Righto, pink it is."  Domino went back behind the screen, and finished getting dressed, hopping out minutes later trying to get his shoe on properly.  "Talk to me."

    Urd had the papers from the file laid out on the table, and Domino's footstool in position for the ferret to hop up.  Urd was a mix of cool, cadet, and blue-grays; the cool gray being her base fur color, with cadet gray coloring the webbing along her arms and between her fingers, and blue gray on her bat wings protruding from her shoulders, and her braided hair.  Dressed in a strapless bodice and dress of steel gray with shoots of cold at the edges, one could believe her to be a moderately conservative Demon.

    Unless, like Domino, one knew the significance of the pale yellow symbol on the back of her left calf.  "The agent in Vecenstein is a succubus," Urd dutifully supplied.  "Isarra Que'tnar, about eight hundred years old, employed in the Ti'baltr Trading Company since its inception in various departments.  Currently working with Division Three as a deep-cover operative."  Domino examined the pages, and the provided image of her base form; a white cat with pink hair, eyes, and black-and-pink bat wings.  A segment of white fur with the sunflower yellow symbol of clan Que'tnar, a mix of a starburst and a heart shape, was attached to her profile.  Apparently the mark was located under her bust, left of the sternum.

    "Combat rating?"

    "Medium; her skills lie in ambushing.  She's marked as an infiltration expert through use of innate shapeshifting powers.  Her magical talents lie in warding, and utility functions."

    "Que'tnar... could she have relapsed into their kidnapping ways?"

    "Unlikely; she agreed to not engage in such activity without a writ from a Ti'baltr circuit judge or higher.  Violating that would put her in breach of contract."  Domino whistled lowly.

    In Ti'baltr, money was everywhere from the vast trade empire they had built.  With Creatures that could potentially live for thousands of years, what worth was money?  To them, what mattered was their reputation, their social standing in relation to their friends, and in rare cases, their honor.  The stigma from breaking a contract lasted longer than most Beings lived.  Businesses wouldn't trust you to pay your monthly bills, and were just as likely to stop services altogether as raise your rates.  Employers wouldn't be able to hire as many employees as they'd like, because the employees wouldn't feel safe.

    In short, being in breach of contract in Ti'baltr was a very good way to end up homeless and friendless.

    "So, she got a warp-aci?"

    "No."

    "Wonderful."  Domino checked a map provided with the file, the Duchy of Borovec was there depicted, with Isarra's location in Vecenstein marked, along with a dot closer to the Kebre border, in the mountains.  "Her safehouse is rather far inland."

    "Yes, pirates frequent the coast."

    "Wonderful.  You've summoned a new warp-aci, right?  Lead a shore party to pick her up, and bring her back.  I'll guide the ship near Vecenstein, the entrance to the fjord.  Here," he indicated the spot he intended.  "We'll set anchor down there.  That way we're close enough to Vecenstein to ward off pirates, but we're far enough from it that their forces won't reach us before we leave."

    "And if they have forces prepared already?"

    "Then we've unfortunately lost much of our freshwater supply to an accident and need to pay an excessively high price to buy it from Vecenstein."  Urd nodded approval, reached down and adjusted the captain's hat a bit for a slightly more disheveled look..

    "I will leave for the meeting then, see you in a few minutes."  The bat left, leaving Domino to search about for his spritz bottle.  Finding it, the ferret quickly poured in a small amount of wine, opened his mouth and spritzed into his throat three times.  Swallowing, then breathing on his hand to confirm that faint hint of booze smell, the ferret trotted off to the meeting.

    Days later, the Harridan was in the subarctic.  Anchored off the fjord that was the main access to Vecenstein, her crew had not been disturbed by either pirates or Unionists.  Positively dull for a rescue mission.  Domino didn't like it, not one bit.  Too easy, too quiet, too many ways it could go sideways.  While Urd and her shore party were away retrieving the lost spy, the ferret spent his days taking on her duties.  Patrolling the deck, keeping the bosun in line, fixing minor damages before they became major issues.

    Waiting for the situation to explode in his face.

    On the second day after Urd's departure, he started to grow worried, and took a seat on the small balcony near the front of the ship, which circled around where the figurehead of the Harridan.

    She was an enraged angel.  A monstrous demon.  A terrible goddess of hate and bloody vengeance.  Depicted as a Mer, mouth wide to display fangs that Domino didn't know if the race actually possessed, flipper hands spread wide while the smaller hands reached out to the viewer as if to strangle them.  Her expression frozen in absolute fury.  The artist had composed her of different wood types to mimic the Mer she had modeled colors, using expensive redwood and ebony greatly.

    The figurehead was quite definitively the Harridan enshrined.  And to Domino, she was beautiful.  When he had first started as her captain, he would spend most of his free time staring at her.  Keeping to her maintenance himself, something he still occasionally did.  Covered in furs to stave off the cold air, he did so again.  Remembering old times to distract him from the present.

    "Hey, shortstuff," came a cheery voice with the slightly off twang of a colonist.  Domino tore his eyes away from the Harridan to  see a tall-legs canine Being stepping down to the balcony.  Third officer Zoos Yelmo, a blond haired tan-furred dog who in a proper warm climate favored vests with no shirt, short pants, and open sandals.  At the moment, he was also decked out in Ti'baltr livery patterned winter furs, but with his hood down and carrying his flintlock rifle as a staff.

    A prize from the great war games between Ti'baltr and its continental rival Kebre, Zoos had successfully made a long-distance shot that had struck the flagman on Kebre's command vessel.  The chaos from the misunderstood orders had won Ti'baltr the games, and earned the dog his magic rifle that could never ever miss a shot.  The dog's blue eyes were alight with mischief, prompting Domino to suspect the deck hands were about to enact a prank of some sort.

    "Mr. Yelmo, it is far too cold for flattery," Domino informed him in a mock chastising tone.  "And in front of my wife no less, have you no shame?"

    "None whatsoever sir.  I am known throughout the crew for my complete lack of shame.  My poor religious mother is so disappointed in me for not begging forgiveness for how awful a person I am to be shameless."

    "You forget I've met your poor religious mother and know she's prone to wandering her house naked so how can she be ashamed of you for being shameless when she herself is shameless?"

    "She's ashamed of me because I had no shame in charging the neighborhood boys to see her wander the house naked, good sir."

    "I do declare, that is indeed exceedingly shameless."  Zoos had almost distracted Domino enough that he didn't see some of the junior enlisted personnel sneak to the overlook of the balcony from the deck with a tub of snow, ready to dump it over onto him.

    A flick of his mitten-clad hand, and a gust of icy wind struck the junior officers, sending them tumbling to the other side of the overlook and accidentally spilling the tub on Zoos.  "Ackpth!"

    "Ho there, gents," Domino called dramatically.  "Do I need to assign you to deck swabbing so that you maintain your sea legs?"  The poor enlisted men and women scattered like bats at night.

    "Using magic to avoid it is cheating," Zoos complained as he dug himself out of the snow.

    "Using the deck hands to deliver the prank is also cheating," Domino chuckled, not bothering to help the dog escape the powdery mound.  "Any news from the crow's nest?"

    "Black smoke coming from Vecenstein," Zoos' tone shifted from amused to serious.  "A lot of it.  There's blood in the water coming out from the fjord.  We should move away."

    "Indeed?  We will give Urd and her party until dusk to return, and then move out to the ocean.  Double the intensity of the flood lights, I want them to know where we are for drop off."

    "Understood sir," the dog extracted himself, and went back to the deck proper.  Domino, left to his own devices returned to staring at the figurehead.

    "You thought I'd missed that, didn't you," he asked of the wooden artiface.  The statue didn't reply, but it didn't need to.  Its expression from when he had first sat down had softened, ever so slightly.  Domino smirked.

    Dusk came and went, the ship raised anchor and moved away from what was quite likely the site of a slaughter in progress, to the open ocean.  Floodlights cast by Creature deckhands kept a constant watch on the horizon, sky, and water for anything getting close to the ship.

    The captain was relaxing with a bubble bath for the evening.  Enjoying the warm water as an escape from the frigid temperatures outside, when he heard a scuffle from the deck.  Carefully reaching for the hilt of his cutlass as it escalated, before the door to his cabin opened, and soon after someone knocked at his bathroom door.

    "Captain," came Urd's tired voice.  "There has been a complication."

    "How complicated is it?"  The ferret didn't stop going for the cutlass until Urd confirmed her identity.  The right responses to the right questions.

    "Political hurricane, sir.  Your input is required."

    "Is it so required that I don't even have time to get dressed?"  The door creaked open and a pair of trousers were thrown in, along with his coat.  The coat landed square on the ferret's face, and he had to scramble to keep the hem out of the water.  'Yeah, that's her,' he thought, reaching for a towel grumpily.

    Upon leaving the bathroom Domino noticed Urd didn't look all that worse for wear, mostly her dress was rumpled and her fur mussed in places.  She and he quickly made it out onto the deck, and down belowdecks.  Domino tried to make it look like the freezing cold didn't affect him despite the brief time exposed.  Still, his feet burned from the cold.

    The meeting room was on the second floor, off from the dining hall for the junior officers.  The senior officers took meals in their quarters or the meeting room to discuss goings-on, or in cases like this apparently.

    Arriving in the room, the ferret saw Ms. Isarra Que'tnar seated in what would be the medical officer's chair.  She looked exactly like her portrait, except she was dressed in a shabby robe and a shawl of all things.  Cubi didn't belong in drab fashion; it had to be stylish or nothing.  They apparently had an entire clan that went with the 'or nothing' option.  Nact somethingorother.

    "Ms. Que'tnar, I assume," Domino annonced his presence, strolling in like he owned the place, well he did have a thirty-five percent ownership of the ship itself, but that was neither here nor there. He held out his hand to her, which she took, likely expecting a shake.  Domino turned it into the more traditional hand kiss of a more chivalrous age.  "Lovely to have you on board, I trust you are recovering from your ordeal well?"

    The cat succubus looked confused for a moment, but nodded.  "I am well, has your agent informed you of the situation?"  Isarra had the accent of Borovec, starting high and growing lower as the sentence progressed.

    "Why don't you tell me in your words what's happened, hmm?"  Domino let nothing show in his face beyond a pleasant smile while taking the seat next to Isarra's.  Fortunately Cubi didn't mind people going shirtless nearly as much as other races, or the positioning might have been awkward.

    "Vecenstein is devolving into an anti-Creature movement.  It started when the town made a move against a local Demon family, but when they were understandably slaughtered, the rest of the Duchy became incensed."

    "Oh dear, and you needed extraction because people started to suspect you?"

    "No," the cat refused to meet Domino's gaze for a moment.  Sitting on his knees to lean on the table, the ferret tried to feign polite concern.  When in reality he was worrying that his ship and crew would have to be a rallying point for extracting every agent in the Ister Union.

    He had nothing against the agents; but the crew was his first concern.

    "No?  So they didn't suspect, but knew?"

    "No, but there was a younger citizen of Ti'baltr there.  I couldn't stay when it would put them at risk."  Domino blinked.  He blinked many times in rapid succession, turned to Urd, who was pinching the bridge of her nose while feeling around for the whiskey bottle on a nearby table, then returned to staring at Isarra while blinking.

    "Please tell me you did not take a child to term while undercover as a sixty-six year old woman."

    "No," the cat answered far too calmly in Domino's opinion.

    "Are you pregnant right now, is that what's happening?"

    "I am not pregnant, I did not have a child, captain."  The cat reached to her side, and pulled a leather portmanteau, opening it up, and producing a parchment booklet which she offered to Domino.

    He examined the booklet and nearly dropped it from shock.  "A... citizenship application.  This is over seven hundred years old!"

    "But still legally valid," Urd commented, downing a cup of whiskey.  "She and I argued legal definitions for hours, but her argument was more convincing."  Domino flipped through the booklet, reading the information filled out.  Printed when Ti'baltr's rising star was shining bright, these parchment booklets had magic in the very stitching; connecting them to Files and Records back at the homeland.  Glancing at the information, he eventually reached the end; where a fingerprint of blood sealed the deal.

    Beneath the fingerprint was a note from Files and Records, etched from afar through the magic of the application.

Application Approved

    "So this... Hyden is a citizen of Ti'baltr.  Right.  But from what you've listed as his date of birth, he's only fourteen or so," Domino closed the booklet and feigned polite interest while connections were forming in his head, and he sensed growing rage.  "Where are his parents?"

    "His father is dead," Isarra replied.  "And his mother was last seen going into premature labor and being moved to Borovec's capital city."

    "Okay.  What does the mother think about this?  Will we be picking her up and stopping by the immigration station on the way home?"

    "No, captain.  His mother does not know he's here."  Domino slowly relaxed his face, letting the dark scowl manifest. 

    "You're upset."

    "You kidnapped a Demon," Domino started, hopping off his chair to pace the outside of the room.  "You broke your cover, got me and my people involved, and kidnapped a Demon.  Wow.  I mean, just wow."  He held out his hand, rubbing his face with the other.  A glass of whiskey was placed into it by the bat, as expected.  He took a long draft of the alcohol; it was going to be one of those nights.

    "I did not kidnap, I rescued him.  His family was abusing him-" the cat stopped when Domino fixed her with a terrible scowl.

    "Urd, define the word kidnapping for our dear Ms. Que'tnar."

    "Kidnap, verb: to take someone away illegally by force," the bat drawled, folding her wings over her chest like some leathery shawl and sitting down.  "Usually for the purpose of ransom."

    "Thankfully you don't seem the type to ransom him back.  You'd have to be pretty thick, anyway.  You took a teenager from his family.  They were abusing him? We don't have any proof of that.  They're likely to die in this anti-Creature purge?  They're Demons, they regularly win out over these.  Especially if his family has a couple demons over three hundred."

    "They're the Bloodstone family from Vecenstein.  The ruling three are two males, age eight-hundred and ninety, four hundred and six, and a female, age seven hundred and twenty-one.  The eldest male is the father of the younger two."  Domino growled and resisted the urge to strike his head against a wall.  Even if the female had been pregnant, three Demons of that age would breeze through anything but veteran adventurers.  Regaining composure, the ferret returned to his seat, and to sitting on his knees to lean on the table.

    "So, please.  Tell me a good reason to not advise the Company that you be found in breach of contract, Ms. Que'tnar."

    The cat was quiet for a moment.  "I have proof that the boy is directly descended from Mikhail through his mother."  Urd laid her head on the table, and covered it with her arms, while Domino's fingers went lax and  his glass fell to the table, teetering on one edge before settling on its base.

    "What."  A flat what.  A complete inability to comprehend a statement.  Seeing or hearing something so bizarre, so not what you expected, that the brain could not process it for minutes.

    "I have the genealogy,  I stole it from his family's records while I rescued," she placed an emphasis on that word, as if to refute the ferret's earlier accusations, "him from them.  Of the family, he's an ideal candidate.  Young, able to be groomed to the role, has reasonable levels of power for his age, of mild temperament, is a Ti'baltr citizen, and his father was a Being and an adventurer; which the public can relate to."  She produced a scroll from the portmanteau, and rolled it to Domino.

    "You," Domino said back, putting on an air of authority he didn't feel, "are not the department of succession."

    "True, but I worked as deputy-director there for thirty-four years.  I know the qualities needed to make Mikhail's successor stick given how long he's been gone, and Hyden is the best we could hope for short of being a full Demon."

    "Genealogies can be faked.  The only real test of his ability to inherit is Mikhail's chalice."  An ancient artifact constructed by the Demon king to ensure his throne would be filled by those of his blood.  Constructed of red stone and filled with sanguine liquid, the Ti'baltr Museum had renamed it the Chalice of Blood.  "You know what happens to false claims when they drink from it."  Domino, as a member of the Ti'baltr family had to witness such events when they rarely occurred.  Grisly. "You're willing to risk being wrong with this kid?"

    Isarra was quiet for a long time, and turned away from Domino, her headwings sinking low.  She probably hadn't thought of what would happen if she was wrong.  Cubi so rarely did. The ferret sighed, anger turning to bitter dread at the days to come.

    "If the kid is legitimately a candidate... your duty as a citizen to see him safely delivered to the homeland trumps everything.  I won't advise you be found in breach of contract.  Urd, show Ms. Que'tnar a room, I want to talk to this kid."

    "He is under a long-term sleep spell," the bat succubus replied, sitting up at last.  "The medical officer is working on breaking the enchantment, but we're not equipped for the task."

    "Fine, dreamwalk him.  I want as much info on his side of this story that you can give me."  Urd nodded.  Domino left the room with the application, and the genealogy, already thinking of all the ways the situation could backfire, and how to see about waking the kid up without sending him into a rampage.  They also needed desperately to get further away from Vecenstein if the kid had been kidnapped.

    Returning to his cabin, Domino instructed the helm to take them back in the direction of Ti'baltr at full sail.  The documents were set aside for review in the morning.  And as expected, his bathwater had gone cold.  Lovely.

    As the days went by, Domino checked the application and genealogy multiple times over for flaws.  For reasons to disbelieve the claim Isarra said was there.  But alas, it was not to be.  Mikhail, mate of Dominus and Nanbi, and one of the three founders of Ti'baltr had died in battle eight hundred years ago, leaving a daughter as his heir.  The validity of the child to inherit was disputed, as the child was not begotten by Nanbi who was not barren despite the Angel race's typical difficulties.  But Mikhail cared nothing for validation by outside sources, the child was his by blood, and she was due to take up his position.

    But when the time came, she fled Ti'baltr rather than claim the fountain of power left for her.  Apparently to flee far to the north, find love with a Demon ram, and start a family, only to die by assassination decades later.  The descriptions matched up, the dates matched up... all that would need to confirm beyond doubt that it had really been Mikhail's daughter who was grandmother to the half-Demon in Domino's infirmary would be to exhume her remains. 

    Probably wouldn't even be all that difficult.  Demons did not care for the sanctity of their dead overmuch.  From what Urd had been able to gather, the kid had indeed been abused but he was in denial over it.  The only members of the family descended from Mikhail that she believed competent to serve were two females, Oresse, the kid's mother, and Auriga, his eldest cousin.

    Both powerful, neither looking down on Beings, both with strong work ethic... and by taking Hyden instead of approaching the situation maturely, Isarra had poisoned them against Ti'baltr, perhaps beyond mending.

    She still was not in breach of contract, Domino decided.  But she had screwed up royally.  With Isarra's skill with enchanting, Urd's own magical education, and the tricks of their medical officer, it was entirely likely that the boy would wake up any day.  Which was good, as Domino had sent word to the homeland, and they were sending someone better equipped to guard the kid against attackers while in transit: a ship of the line, the Antiquity, captained by Domino's cousin Marlyn.

    With the Harridan's speed, the two ships would rendezvous on the edge of Ti'baltr-controlled waters in a day at most.  As they were getting closer, the question of the boy's health became increasingly worrisome.  The medical officer prepared a variety of vaccinations against Ti'baltr native diseases, and requisitioned every powered shaver on board to sheer the ram's fleece down to where he wouldn't suffer heat stroke in a tropical environment.  When Domino got his back, the poor thing had to be put out of its misery, meaning he had to use a straight blade to keep facefuzz from getting out of control.

    The day the Antiquity was due to rendezvous with the Harridan, Domino received a call from Medical of all places.  "Yellow?"

    "Captain," came the voice from the medical officer.  Sebastian Chuf, a llama Being, gifted with mundane medicine which translated easily to magical healing.  Even temperament, no qualms about tying down Creatures who refused bedrest.  "The Demon boy is awake.  Mr. Yelmo and I saw him heading upstairs, you might want to head him off before he goes for a swim."

    "He look alright to be up and about?"

    "A bit thin for my liking, but healthy enough."

    "Righto, I'll get him calmed down," Domino waited for the llama to politely end the call and instead heard the dial tone.  Seb was a jerk like that.  Putting on a taupe shirt and his enchanted choker, the captain left for the deck, and waited.

    Seb was a jerk, but not a 'down to the marrow in his bones' jerk, so when the kid came up, he was fully dressed in the same pyjamas Isarra had brought him aboard with.  They didn't quite look to fit right without the fleece that had to get shorn off, but the kid weren't going to offend the sensibilities of anyone onboard at least.

    The ram, Domino had to stop and think about gender cues in sheep because the boy didn't have horns yet, seemed shocked that none of the crew were trying to stop him.  It wasn't like he actually posed a threat to anyone on the ship other than himself; but the boy didn't know that.  Not yet.  Hyden, Domino remembered his name, saw the horizon, and walked to the railing, expressing the sensation of feeling the world falling out from under him in his face.  Domino let him have his moment, and hopped onto the rail beside the boy, waiting for the ram to notice him.

    "You look confused," Domino started when the moment dragged on too long.  The ram jumped and turned to him, as if seeing him for the first time.  He looked over the ferret for a moment, and seeing what he likely assumed was another Being, relaxed.

    "Um... yeah, confused is a word I would use for this," said the ram in that same 'start high, go lower' accent that Isarra had spouted before interacting with the crew brought back her proper Ti'baltic accent.

    "Weird accent you got there, boy," the ferret grinned at the boy, Demons tended to react well to displaying teeth if someone had a set to be proud of.  "Well, if you have questions, I'm the man to answer them.  I'm the captain of this here boat. Domino Ti'balt.  Welcome aboard."

    He held his hand out to shake, which the ram did after a moment's consideration.  Domino led him back to his cabin, instructed the boy to sit, and went for beverages from his personal kitchen.  "They got coffee up north, boy?"

    "My name is Hyden," the ram replied testily, scowling.  "And.. what's coffee?"

    "Well then, Hyden, this will be quite the learning experience."  The ferret wasn't feeling evil enough to put the boy on caffeine yet, not until the Antiquity was in sight anyway, so put on a pot of decaf.  "Now, while I'm making this, first question?"

    "Um.  Where are we?"

    "The Pondiac Ocean, tropical region, going toward the equator in the general Ti'baltr area.  Five day of travel from Vecenstein at top speed, eight as the crow flies."  Domino opened his ice box, to see what he could find that a Demon would eat.  The boy was likely hungry for something solid.  "Next question?"

    "Can I go home, please?"  Ah yes.  That unpleasant question.  Ooh, honeyed ham.  Domino took the ham from the icebox, and rummaged around for the bread and knives.

    "Unfortunately no.  Vecenstein has started a chain of events that have turned most of the coastal region of Borovec against the native Creatures.  It's become an armed uprising that the Ister Union's going to have to put down, and that could take years.  No way I'm letting my ship anywhere in that neighborhood.  Next?"  Choppity-chop went the knife as Domino carved off slices of ham to put on the bread slices.  "What do you like with your sandwich, anyway?"

    "Is that ham?  I like mustard with ham."  The ram smiled for a moment before remembering he was supposed to be upset, and changing his expression to match.  "What if I want to go back?"

    "You're free to try swimming?  Watch out for the sharks, they bite hard."  The coffee done, the sandwich made, Domino took the boy his food and drink, before fetching his own and the cream.  "Next question?"  All through the conversation, Domino kept his tone pleasant and amused, seeing if the kid's temperament was as mild as Isarra believed.

    "What's a shark?"  The ram looked into his mug of coffee hesitantly, but seemed interested by the smell, and added some cream to the mixture before tasting.

    "Seen a fish before?"

    "Mhm."

    "It's like that.  But between six and fifteen feet long, as thick around as that door, and with teeth a Demon would envy."  Dom took a swig of his own coffee, sitting at the table, and unlike Hyden, not needing to adjust his legs heavily for comfort. 

    "Oh, wow."  The boy took a bite of sandwich next, at least having the courtesy to swallow before speaking again.  Domino certainly hadn't at his age.  "They dangerous?"

    "If you're in the water, yeah.  Next question?"

    "Um.  If I can't go home, what's going to happen to me?"

    "Well in the short term, we're meeting up with a ship of the line to escort you and the Ms. Que'tnar to Ti'baltr, where you'll likely be processed, and talked to about housing and what goals you'd like to pursue while there."  Dom, seeing the kid absolutely destroy his sandwich quickly, pushed his own to the boy.

    "So, you guys have lots of Demons I could live with for a while?"

    "Boy, one of our founders was a Demon.  Demons account for the largest Creature type in our citizenry.  To answer your question, yes.  Unless you want to stay with an Angel family or something?"

    "Oh right.  I forgot that part," so the boy knew something of Ti'baltr's history.  Interesting.  "Is that why your spy was a succubus?"

    "I don't follow, son."

    "Um, Cubi are a type of Demon, aren't they?"  Domino didn't respond a first, then his face twisted in amusement, and he quickly stomped on the urge to laugh, reducing it to a giggle fit.  "What?"

    "Hehehehehe, sorry.  Ahem."  The ferret gained control of himself, thankful that he hadn't knocked anything over.  "No, Cubi are their own race.  The Ti'baltr Trading Company keeps a few on staff because of their long lifespan, and infiltration abilities.  A couple of clans vassaled themselves for protection during the Dragon Cubi war, but they make up one of the smallest minorities.  Next question?"

    The exchange went like that for an hour or so.  The boy would ask, and the ferret answer.  He seemed delighted to have someone answer his questions, after he stopped trying to be upset.  Domino even got him to socialize with some of the crew, having the most luck with the Demon-descended Beings.

    The Antiquity, which seemed to have inflated their number of Demon crewmembers since last Domino saw them, rendezvoused without the boy causing a fuss.  It was decided Isarra would stay on the Harridan, to her displeasure, while Hyden went on the Antiquity.  The two ships would divert course, and meet up at Ti'baltr, with the Harridan's speed making sure Isarra was there first to explain things to the Company, and have arrangements ready.

    What no one considered was that the same speed would incite the chase instinct of two flying Demons who had been stalking them into attacking.

    Domino wouldn't remember the exact details of that night for the rest of his life.  Neither would he want to.  Images from it would be burned into his mind, however.

    ...the deck cracking as the first demon, a female ewe of green and blue fleece with lightning marks slammed through the mainmast.....

    ...an explosion of light, a searing pain in his left eye, Urd shouting 'Abandon ship!  Abandon ship!'....

    ...the whole ship shaking as she struck the reef, the hull twisting until the stern came away from the bow...

    ...Urd, impaled by a spear, sinking gently through the water.  Swimming frantically to reach her, reminding himself that dead people didn't sink....

    ...the shock of impact, a dark shape in the water, a shark.  Dark red pouring from his left arm, the inability to feel his hand....

    ...hands grabbing him around the waist, pulling him back up.  Trying to shout at them to save her, to save Urd....

    ...the sight of the bow sinking down below the water.  Winged figures circling overhead, before departing to the south....

    Domino became aware again in a hospital, from the sound of things.  The beeps of equipment, the sterile white of the walls and floor, the smell of rubbing alcohol.  He was alive.

    That thought alone sent fire through his veins.  He got out of the bed the hospital staff had put him in, ripping the tubes they had placed into him from their spots, sounding half a dozen alarms.  He didn't care.  He needed to destroy something.

    After throwing the bed through the window he found that his left hand was gone entirely; only a heavily bandaged stump left at the end of his arm.  That only slowed him down.  Chairs were shattered on the walls.  A heart-rate monitor broken over the head of the Demon orderly who tried to subdue him.

    When his rage was gone, the hospital staff had learned to stay back.  Domino demanded his property back, and signed bills for the property and injuries he had done that would be billed to the Company, and left.

    He needed to go to the wharf.  To see that the Harridan was really gone.  To go to her dock and find it empty.  Along the way, he found he hadn't just lost his hand, but also his eye.  His left eye had a bandage over it, with a socket filled with a glass ball underneath.

    The dock was empty.  The splendor of Ti'baltr meant nothing to him anymore.  His ship was dead, and buried at sea without her captain.  Urd was dead and buried at sea without her captain.  Domino wanted to rampage again, but it wouldn't come.

    A bit of movement among the unloaded crates of a cargo ship caught his eye.  A tiny batwing attached to gray hair.  Sweet, delicious hope filled him, and the ferret charged the boxes, shoving them aside with ease.

    He didn't find Urd.  But he did find a girl.  A lammergeier, late teens, her plumage of red, white, and black, her hair the same shade of gray that Urd's had been.  Wearing what seemed to be bits of leather stitched together in the rough shape of a dress, red and black feathered wings rising from her shoulders and head.  The girl had the air of a cornered animal ready to strike, and looked it too, even if she was a bit thin.

    Domino felt hope crush down into fine despair, but put on his most winning smile, and offered his good hand.  "Hey," he said, his tone hiding his emotions with cheer.  "I'm Domino.  You look hungry, wanna grab something to eat?"

    She looked ready to bite his hand off rather than take it, and for a moment, Domino thought she would.  But she took it, and he helped her to her feet.  "I'm Evgenija," she said in the flat voice of a Kebrian.  "And... I would like some food... please?"


I noticed you guys speculating on Domino's race.  So I removed every instance where his race is specified in this chapter.

[ZacAttac21]

I noticed you guys speculating on Domino's race.  So I removed every instance where his race is specified in this chapter.

Oh, you are a meany.

[Tapewolf]

I'd have said he was a Being except for the rampaging at the end.
One thing I am kind of curious about is how they have steam engines in the experimental stage, but electronic heart monitors...

[Meany]

I'd have said he was a Being except for the rampaging at the end.
One thing I am kind of curious about is how they have steam engines in the experimental stage, but electronic heart monitors...

Two things: One, this story is set roughly in the ballpark of 1946 on the Zinvth calendar.  By 1655, Zinvth's hospitals seemed fairly advanced.  The steam engines are experimental because no one is quite sure what stance the Mer will have on it.  The heart-rate monitor was developed in Kebre, which will be expanded upon in the next chapter.  Kebre went to expense to develop nonmagical technologies.  Partly, I speculate, because Vae who developed the nation fell in love with your Chronicles of Jakob Pettersohn story.

Two, Fluffy himself has said that the technological advancement of Furrae varies depending on if something can be done easier magically, or technologically.  Monitoring a heart-rate just happens to be one of those things.

[Tapewolf]

Two things: One, this story is set roughly in the ballpark of 1946 on the Zinvth calendar.

Two, Fluffy himself has said that the technological advancement of Furrae varies depending on if something can be done easier magically, or technologically.  Monitoring a hear-rate just happens to be one of those things.

Works for me!

[VAE]

Hmm. Electric heartrate monitors...
While I myself was not aware they exist, they could, maybe, given the recent focus on electrification in some places (Kallisburg, for one), the results of applying electricity to a living body were probably explored in detail, if only through ccidental injuries at first.

[Tapewolf]

Hmm. Electric heartrate monitors...
While I myself was not aware they exist, they could, maybe, given the recent focus on electrification in some places (Kallisburg, for one), the results of applying electricity to a living body were probably explored in detail, if only through ccidental injuries at first.

Well, the ECG machines that beep tend to be from the microprocessor era, though it turns out that they have a long history going back to at least the 1910s in one form or another.
That said, if it's clever enough to detect abnormal readings it needs to have some smarts in it, be that digital control or some kind of magic.

[VAE]

Hmm. Electric heartrate monitors...
While I myself was not aware they exist, they could, maybe, given the recent focus on electrification in some places (Kallisburg, for one), the results of applying electricity to a living body were probably explored in detail, if only through ccidental injuries at first.

Well, the ECG machines that beep tend to be from the microprocessor era, though it turns out that they have a long history going back to at least the 1910s in one form or another.
That said, if it's clever enough to detect abnormal readings it needs to have some smarts in it, be that digital control or some kind of magic.

I heavily doubt that'd be the case. All up to the person reading it.

[Meany]

Hey, according to DMFA, television existed over a hundred years ago.  This technology level is eighty-six different kinds of weird.

[Merlin]

Ooh, I'm enjoying this very much! It's fantastic!

[ZacAttac21]

Wait, am I reading this right? Dominus married a woman and a man?? ...Mind = blown.

[Meany]

The closer you get to the equator, the stranger the people get.

[ZacAttac21]

DMFA ferrets: little people, massive stones.

[Meany]

I'm cutting down on the size to make it easier for me to post.  I would have had a full sized one today, but I had to scrap the first two drafts in alarmingly deep.  Hopefully when this is done, I'll be able to to bring us back to our usual broadcast length.

Enjoy meeting Evgenija.


Chapter 3- Making a Monster pt. 1

"I will be completing the adventurer certification course soon, mother."  Evgenija told her mother one night over dinner.  Bone marrow soup, a recipe brought with her from her homeland across the ocean.  Evgenija and her mother were lammergeier, bearded vultures; white and black plumage, with dye to color the feathers around the head red.  They were a rare breed in Kebre, even rarer in Veldun, set at the foot of the mountains.

"You will not seek out a more suitable profession?"  Asked Anevka, Evgenija's mother.  The two were seated opposite each other in the small dining nook, in the old house that had been converted into a duplex for rent.  A perfectly humble place to live for two ladies.

"I have not the patience to be a maid, nor the gentle bearing to be a nurse, mother."  Evgenija wisely did not bring up the subject of secretary work, her mother's profession.

"So you will wander the country as a vagabond, righting wrongs and fighting monsters?"

"Yes."  Anevka hmmed, displeased, but did not press.  That was the way of a proper Kebrian woman.  To speak only as much as was necessary.  That the corsets were so tight that it was difficult to breathe certainly contributed to that.  They ate their soup, and drank their tea in silence.  Neither quite happy with the other, but not angry enough to speak out of turn.

"I am going to class now, mother," Evgenija said, standing from the nook, and taking her dishes to the sink for washing.  "Do you need anything from the store while I am out?"

"Please pick up some fresh bread.  Mrs. Okra loaned me some the day before yesterday, and I aim to repay her."  Mrs. Okra, her husband, and their newborn babe were the occupants of the second level of the duplex.  A lovely trio of mice who didn't mind that their neighbor was unmarried, and her daughter also unmarried, and had wings.

The younger vulture took her cloak from the hook, and exited the house, folding her wings over her front to keep herself warm, and to hide her figure from the prying eyes of vagabonds.  Not ten years ago, it would be unnecessary.  But when the new Mayor took office, he being a former militiaman, he enabled certain privileges to the militia.  Such as the ability to discount complaints for frivolous reasons.  Like an officer touching someone in unprofessional manners.

In the end, it was easier to simply cover up rather than hope the officers one encountered on the street would be decent men.  Veldun was a mining town; the source of coal and iron ore for all of the central nation.  But most importantly, for Novzgrad, thirty miles to the east.  Novzgrad wasn't a city so much as a massive research institute with houses attached. 

Anevka had lived their once.  Had been her father's secretary.  And once hoped to be his new wife.  But instead, she was cast out of the scientific capital of Kebre, and forced to move to Veldun.  Evgenija never asked about her father, because Anevka had enough trouble telling how her loved one had betrayed her, without needing to talk about who he was.

Even as a mining town, there was an urban sector.  A slice of civilization, with proper Kebrian carved stone buildings, cobbled roads, and statues at the city square.  The adventurer school and guildhall neighbored the square, the marble building commissioned when Veldun's Creature aristocracy allowed Beings into the government.

Ascending the stairs, the lammergeier felt safe for the first time since leaving her house.  The school was safe, no militiamen were allowed inside.  She could spread her wings, and no be gawked at.  She could practice magic without someone giving her dagger-glares.  She could be herself.

Since the current batch of students were so close to graduation, the instructors gave them a quick run-down of their exam subjects and let them out early.  Evgenija had time to practice her stealth and knife maneuvers before going for bread.  When she had started the course, no one had believed a girl who regularly dressed in floor-length dresses, with corsets, and with heeled shoes could be anything but a support caster.

She proved them wrong.  Her corset helped learned breath control, her dress allowed her to hide a staggeringly high number of knives of all sizes, and her shoes had been enchanted to allow her greater speed, silence, and jumping ability.  From being a topic of ridicule, Evgenija was going to graduate magna cum laude.  Vindication tasted sweet, she found.

"Evgenija, a word?"  Called a voice from down below.  The lammergeier was currently running an obstacle course for those with wings that emphasized jumping, gliding, and controlled falling to various elevated platforms.  It was usually rude to interrupt such a run, because they were competitively timed.

Evgenija signaled the time-keeper to stop, and gracefully glided down to the floor.  Across the way was Instructor Cruc, the trainer on identifying weapon quality and forging.  A hare, short even for his kind.  "Yes, instructor?" she said to him, hiding her annoyance with a drawling tone.

"Sorry to interrupt, but something they did over in Novzgrad messed up our batch of Adventurer's Stones.  Could you come by tomorrow after the graduation ceremony and have yours redone?"

"It cannot be salvaged?"  She didn't mind redoing the soul-imprinting process upon a stone if it was necessary.  Such stones were vital for the guild to know if someone had died, or worse than died.  She didn't want to risk her mother missing out on her death benefits.  But if it could be avoided, she'd rather avoid it.

"Nope.  The Stone doesn't respond to any magic.  We're going to have to start over from scratch, sorry."  The hare did look genuinely sorry.  But that didn't matter.  The stone imprinting would drain Evgenija of most of her stamina, meaning she would not be able to go out and adventure.  No one would, if all the new Stones were damaged.  She would have to endure the endless whining of the melee fighters until the ceremony ended.  Drat.

"If it cannot be avoided, it cannot be avoided.  I clear my schedule, thank you for letting me know."  Her mood ruined, the lammergeier left the school to pick up the bread, and head home.  Her mother would be displeased but then she always was with Evgenija.

As expected, come the next day, there was nothing but whining from the melee fighters, enthused whispers from the strategists who had another day to plan, and a lukewarm reaction from the casters.  And as expected, the ritual to bind the stones left everyone so weak that no one could adventure as they had hoped.

It warmed Evgenija's heart, the memory of watching the melee brutes have to leave their greatswords and plate armor behind because they couldn't stand up with them anymore.

What chilled her heart, as she approached home, was the sight of the door ajar, the frame splintered.  Knives appeared between her fingers.  Old weakness gone with the growing dread of her mother perhaps being at risk, she advanced on the door and entered in, listening for intruders.

Quiet.  Not even the cries of the newborn on the floor above.  Going room by room, she scanned for invaders or her mother.  She found the latter in the kitchen, a garrote around her neck, hands tied behind her back, wheezing for air that wouldn't come.

Evgenija carefully approached her mother, putting away her throwing knives and pulling out a cutting one.  But as she knelt down, the older lammergeier shook her head, and looked at her, panicked.

No, not at her, the younger vulture thought as she saw where her mother's pupils were focused.  Behind her-

She didn't finish the thought before throwing knives were in her free hand, and flying through the air behind her.  A pained scream filled the air, while Evgenija hastily cut the garrote, and pulled her mother up to her feet, putting more knives in her hands.  A dog in a black hooded robe, green shirt brown pants and boots, no identifying marks howled in pain, a knives sticking from his chest, narrow enough to fit through the gaps in his ribs.

She at first thought the wound would make it a fairer fight, but he slowly pulled the knives from the wound.  And she saw his eyes when he glared at her.  Unnatural gold.  Then she noticed the fangs in his snarl.  Vampire.

More knives flew from her fingers, aiming for the head and heart; the only two certain death points on the vampire.  The dog swung his cloak unnaturally fast, and the knives clattered to the ground rather than strike their mark.

A vampire had to be at least four hundred years old to develop that level of speed.  Which meant the first time she'd hit him was pure luck.  And that both vultures were very much dead.  Banking on getting lucky a second time, Evgenija produced more knives, and pulled her arms back to throw them.

But instead found the wolf in her personal space, holding her by the throat with one arm, and a crystal on a string with another.  Lightning gathered around the gem, and struck the young vulture in the face.

Her arms went limp her fingers released the knives and she slumped, held up by the dog holding her neck.  Yet she was awake, aware, but unable to act.  "Stupid girl," the dog said in the accent of Port Oriss, the capital.  The dog threw her aside, and walked toward her mother.  She could hear her mother whimpering, only to be cut off by a series of crunching noises.

A slump, the growing feeling of warm liquid along her wing feathers and back... Anevka was dead.  And Evgenija knew she soon would be, too.  At least the guild would know, she comforted herself.  At least they'll make the vampire scum pay.

"You stupid, stupid girl."  The lighting changed, a shadow cast over her field of vision.  The vampire was standing over her.  "If you had just gone off adventuring instead of coming home to show off to mommy, you might have gotten away,"  hands grabbed her by her shoulders, and started hauling her up.  She could feel him standing between her wings.  Standing... alarmingly close.

Oh no.

A sudden stabbing feeling burst from her neck.  A vile slurping sound from the bastard who'd killed her mother seconds ago.

No no no.

Everything was going numb.  The room... the room was spinning.

Don't let him make me a monster....

She passed out, praying for God to save her.


Spoiler alert: He won't.

[Meany]

Two in one night?  I'm spoiling you people.

I don't care, you deserve being spoiled a bit.

Advisory- Unpleasant themes.

Chapter 3- Making a Monster pt. 2

She woke up.  That she woke up made her want to cry.  She was in a cell, on a ratty mattress that she could barely see because the only light came from the gap between the floor and the heavy steel door.  She tried to stand only to find she was shackled by the ankle to a spike in the middle of the floor, too short to allow her to reach the door.  She got closer to the spike, and tried to bring up the chain to her eyes, hoping it was reflective.  It was, and the light provided her reflection to see her eyes.

Not the golden color of vampirism, still red as blood.  Relief flooded her, and faded as the door creeped open.  A feline vampire, she knew it was one by the fangs and the eyes which seemed to shine in the dark, strolled in, wearing a female variant of the outfit her canine attacker had.

"You're awake.  Good," the cat spoke with the same accent as the dog; that of the capital.  "I will explain this to you once.  You are no longer a citizen of Kebre.  You have no rights.  You may or may not have done anything to deserve being here; no one cares.  This room will be yours for the rest of your life.  No one will come to save you."

Evgenija wanted to say something, but all she did was stare.  Unable to process.

"You will be visited every few days for me or one of my people to feed on you.  The more fuss you make, the longer you go without food.  We won't let you kill yourself, or your cellmate.  None of my boys will feed off you long enough for you to die.  We won't turn you.  The only way out of here is old age.  The end."  Evgenija mustered up the courage to say something, but the cat turned and left the cell, closing the door behind her.  A moment later, it clicked with a lock.

Evy stopped to process what had been said.  She tried calling to the limited magic she knew, but it fizzled as it formed.  Something in the area must have been messing with her spell.  Examining the spike told the vulture nothing.  It felt like it was merged with the ground, which meant it was either carved, or formed magically.  But in feeling it, she found there was another chain attached to it.

...we won't let you kill yourself or your cellmate....

The vulture followed the chain to find the other person, maybe they could think of something.  What she found, however, was a grim vision of what she would become if she stayed.

An old woman.  A bird, like her, but some sort of heron.  She was lying flat on her back, staring up at the ceiling.  Here eyes were dead, glassy, they didn't respond to Evgenija waving her hand in front of them.  The only indication that the other woman was alive was the gentle rise and fall of her chest, and the rare blink.  The vulture couldn't stand the sight, not bothering to try talking to the woman, she backed away.  To her own mattress.

The first time they came in to feed on her and the old woman, she fought.  They used the paralyzing stone on her, and fed anyway, but left food for the old woman across the cell.  By the time she was free, the old woman had eaten her food and returned to her usual laying on her back.

Days bled into each other, and by the time they came again, she was too hungry to risk fighting.  The food they left was terrible, but it stopped the burning in her stomach.  The routine would continue.  A few days of nothing but darkness and silence between the two women, and then the vampires would come to feed.

Soon, Evgenija was hoping she wouldn't be rescued, because how could she recover from the disgrace of being held captive by vampires of all things.  She still believed she'd be rescued.  That was how things went; evil Creatures did things, but eventually adventurers would come by and defeat them.

That woman is old, and these vampires are old.  Adventurers may come, but will they be in time to save you?

Evgenija really hated her brain sometimes.  While she waited, she listened at the door for information about where she was, or who the vampires were.  It took days of work, but the picture she pieced together was not what she had expected.

Kebre was gradually becoming a nation of Beings and Creatures, but at the highest levels of power, the Creatures still ruled.  The current Governor, the top of the pile, was an incubus, and so too were two of the ministers in his cabinet.  The minister of security, Theophillus Kish'Ta was the employer of the nest of vampires in which the vulture found herself.

Which meant that the vampires worked for the Secret Police.  Which meant that the government that she had been raised to trust and be proud of had ordered her to suffer for the rest of her life... because it was convenient.

Hopes crushed, Evgenija did what not even her mother's death had done; she cried.  The days following that realization were the worst ones.  Where despair filled her every waking thought, where the memory of every bit of freedom she had possessed taunted her and her present situation.  The sweet sensation of flight, the feel of the sun on her feathers, the smell of grass.

She stopped keeping track of time as numbness set in.  Soon she was no better than the old woman opposite her.  Moving only when fed upon, or when food was laid in front of her.

She had to shut down, or she'd have gone mad.

But something changed.  One day, Evgenija saw food laid in front of her as the vampires left, and she felt no desire to eat.  It was like this break in the routine woke her up from some deep sleep, and she was aware of her situation again.  Unable to fathom why she felt no hunger, the vulture pushed her food to the heron's side of the cell.  The old woman had no such reservations and ate the second helping.

Days following, Evgenija became aware of something.  It felt like... oil on her brain, which didn't make sense as the brain had no nerve ending by which to detect sensation.  Focusing on the oil, brought memories of finding out about the vampires and the Secret Police.  The feeling of hope crushing down into despair.  Despair.  That was what she was feeling in the air.

She didn't like it.  As the days went by, it stayed in the air and she was constantly aware of it.  Unable to go back to the numbness.  Soon, she swore it was developing a taste; a bitter one.

It must have been an effect from the magic-dampening field, she decided.  She'd need to ask for a doctor.  Would they care?  They said she wasn't going to be allowed to die, so they must have a doctor.

"Doctor... doctor... need doctor," she kept chanting that as loud as she could rasp.  Time had no meaning beyond the sound of her voice.  The door opened, and the vampires entered in.  But there was someone else.  A mole, dressed in a labcoat, with a stethoscope around his neck.

"Need a doctor, lass?"  The mole grinned down at her as he helped her to a sitting position.  He grinned, his teeth were jagged, and some were made of gold.  "Doctor's here.  What ails you?"

"Can't... eat."  Not a lie.  Not the truth either.

"Hmm?  Have you boys been messing up the recipes I gave you again?"  The mole turned to glower at the vampires, who shook their head.  "Then it must be something else, I'll do a quick exam and see if she needs transport.  One of you get the anti-magic cuffs ready."  A bovine vampire nodded and left, leaving the doctor, a floppy-eared canine, and a horse with her.

The mole patted her down, shone a light into her eyes.  Moved aside the scraps of her once exquisite dress to examine her feathers.  Made her stretch her wings.  But when he was checking her legs, the mole man backed away in a panicked rush until he hit the wall.

"What is it?"  The horse vampire asked, moving between Evgenija and the mole.

"You dumb bastards, who told you to take this girl?"  The vulture fixed her eyes on the mole, visible by being thicker than his guardian.  Something was rolling off him... something that made her heart beat fast, made her think of being chased by something hungry.

Fear.

It felt like her hair standing on end, like pins and needles.  And unlike despair, she did not dislike the taste of it.  She loved it.  It filled a hole in her she didn't know was there, and put strength back in her limbs.  She could stand again, and she did, wobbling only a little.

"What are you talking about?  She's just a girl."

"She's a succubus you daft bastard!  Look at her leg, the mark on her leg!"  They did, and Evgenija didn't mind the looking for fear bloomed in them as well.  "Get the keys, get the keys quick!  We need to get her to the minister; if he finds out we had her and didn't bring her, he'll have our souls for sure!"  Fear split into different shades and tastes in the others.  Dread, felt kind of like peanut butter and had a smooth taste.  Panic, sour like a lemon, gave her pep.  Terror, a fine wine.

She momentarily felt a pressure in her head, and her hair moving aside as something pushed up from below.  The bovine vampire, who had come back when he'd heard shouting, stopped in the doorway.  They all stopped and stared for a moment, while the vulture drank in their fear.

Soft laughter split the air.  Evgenija didn't mind until she found out it was coming from her.  But also... not from her.  Her wings fanned out, and seemed to contort.  Her primary feathers lengthening, their black color defining the long wiggling limbs that seemed to form in their place, leaving the red feathers as a base.  Some ended in hook like limbs, but others ended in bulbs of red.

It took her a moment to realize they were mouths.  The red was their lips, slightly longer on the bottom, but lips.  They pulled back to reveal two solid structures that mimicked teeth but with no individual pieces.  They opened and laughter came from them.  Her laughter.

"Um."  She didn't know who had spoken, but it didn't matter.  The second they did, the mouths stopped laughing, and they, along with the hook-end tentacles lashed out.  The mouths even gave a blood-curdling roar as they went.

Vampires, mole doctor, steel spike anchoring her to the floor; all went to pieces seconds later.  Evgenija didn't stop laughing until it was all over.  She realized the door was open and her captors were in pieces all over the floor, and... being chewed upon by some of her tentacles.  She wouldn't have minded except she could taste it in her mouth.

"Stop that," she told the limbs, and they did.  Grudgingly.   She carefully stepped through the pieces to the door.  One last look in, at where she had been trapped so long, at the bodies, at the old woman laying on the mattress staring at the ceiling as blood cooled on her.

One look back, that's all she stopped for.  Everyone who got between her and the door out of the prison would end up like the vampires and the doctor.  She didn't care anymore.

She was free.


Poor Evy.  She's going to be so unhappy while she's with me.

The tentacle heads were inspired by these unspeakable monsters.  Anyone want to guess at her clan?  Five cookie for a right guess.  Five whole cookie.

[ZacAttac21]

If she likes fear that much, I'm going to go with Kish'ta. Almost seems like too easy to guess that, though...

[VAE]

Okay, while I had certain reservations along the way, this ended up even more awesome than I expected.
Laughed at the proper dress enabling one to produce an unexpected number of knives, and, you know, the escape scene actually made sense in terms of nobody acting unbelievably dumbly.
Well done.

[llearch n'n'daCorna]

Nice work on these. Hefty in size, but fairly well done, all in all.

[Tapewolf]

If she likes fear that much, I'm going to go with Kish'ta. Almost seems like too easy to guess that, though...

It would make sense, though.  Their boss is a Kish'ta and if she was the same clan it would explain why they were scared of him going totally mental on them.

[Meany]

CubiKitsune gets five whole cookie, claimable at your local Cookie Express(tm).


Chapter 3- Making a Monster pt3

   The prison's entrance, she found, was under a tannery.  A tannery that unfortunately was employed when the vulture exited through what up till that point was a secret door.  The workers were tending vats of some liquid, Evgenija didn't know the contents of, or particularly care.

   They fled when she brandished her new tentacles, giving her a moment to stop and think.  They were dead.  The vampires, all dead.  Well, some of them.  She couldn't remember all of their faces; but she recalled there being more than three.

   The mole had called her a succubus.  Odd, she didn't feel like raping and soul stealing.  Maybe she was just bad at it?  Or maybe the reality and the propaganda were different.  Making sure that no one was around, she checked her leg to see the mark she had developed that had convinced the mole of this.

   It was on the inside of her thigh, and was the color black.  It resembled two horns curving back toward each other, suspending an oval between them.  Dots rested near where the horns turned back away from each other.

   She didn't know the clan associated with that mark; the school had taught the symbols of a frighteningly small number of clans; Cubi being deceivers, it was hard to know how many there were.  The ones best avoided were Hrienth, Jyraneth, and Taun; all combat-trained, all far too smart for the average adventurer, all with 'flee on sight' orders.

   Praying the clan she found herself part of was not quite so... violent, she looked around for a mirror.  To see how she looked.  Instead, she found a calendar.  One that could not possibly be right.  The month and date didn't concern her, she was busy staring at the year.

1946

   Four years?  She had spent four years in that place?  No, this had to be a lie, her eyes playing a cruel joke on her mind.  Surely time had passed, a month, maybe two.  But four years?  She couldn't have tuned out the world for that long, surely.

   She wanted to cry again, thinking of lost time.  How many of her friends had already died out adventuring?  How long had her mother, who didn't have a job, stay on that floor before someone found her?

   No.  She pulled herself together.  Remembered her adventurer training on facing trauma.  Bury it, put it in a tiny box and lock it away.  There would be a time to grieve, and to rage at the world.  Now wasn't it, now was the time where she checked what condition she was in, to see how far she could get before getting to safety.

   ...you are no longer a citizen of Kebre....

   Right.  That.  Which meant she'd be hunted by the Secret Police if she stayed in the nation's borders.  No problem, the Ister Union was over the mountains.  And if the calendar was right on the month, the passes were open.  She'd just go out, get some furs, and head north.

   The sound of seagulls in the air as she snuck out of the tannery made her stop to look around.  It was far too warm to be Veldun.  There was salt on the wind.  The sound of... crashing waves?

   She was on the coast?!  Gulls, salt, sea, the accent of the capital.  The capital; the seat of power for the entire nation.  Both easier and harder to escape from here, she decided, plying stealth long rusty to ascend to the roof just as the tannery workers returned with uniformed militiamen.

   Easier in that ships to the Ister Union, to Kalpakstan, and Ti'baltr would all be docked at the harbor; and it was infinitely easier to escape on a ship than through a mountain pass.  And harder in that this was the capital.  Admittedly, a capital in decline; the last time Ti'baltr had warred with them was six hundred years ago; and the city hadn't seen major repairs since then.

   Leaping and gliding from roof to roof; making sure to glide only over alleys lest her shadow tip someone off; god forbid they see her while she was indecent but that was part of the adventurer lifestyle.  Port Oriss was a low city; but the two greatest sights to see the vulture had a plain view of: The Imperial Palace, the residence of dragon emperor's long dead, now the council of Ministers' building, and the recently constructed building for the provincial rulers, the council of State.

   The port was in view.  Evgenija stopped on a roof, closing her wings around her front while she inspected the ships for a likely vessel to stow away upon.  Kalpakstanni ships were always heavily watched; the Khanate was giving signals of mustering forces for war, and the government was wary of them.  No ships from the Ister Union were docked; though she saw one coming into the harbor.  Coming in, meaning it would be days before she went out again.

   But Ti'baltr had six ships docked.  Two sloops, an armor-plated brig, and three cargo ships.  One looked to be taking on people of all things; an immigration ship?  There was a vague rule she remembered from adventurer school; an adventurer could request passage aboard a friendly vessel if they offered protection from attacks.  But who would believe a succubus to be an adventurer?

   Ti'baltr might.  They were strange like that.  But without her knives, or a decent dress, she was useless in a fight; the tentacles couldn't be relied upon without more practice.  No, there was another rule, something in the ballpark of the forties.  Adventurer Rule Forty and above were reserved for emergencies.  Example: Rule Forty-four "before all else, hide the noncombatants."

   Rule Forty-six: "When you are in over your head, ask for help."

   That was the one.  And it was almost harder than posing as an immigrant would be, for Evgenija at least.  To be Kebrian was to be proud; proud of the traditions that had supported her nation, pride in the sacrifices those who came before made to see her safely into the world, pride in themselves, as citizens of the great nation that had formed the seat of Dragon Empires.

   To bend that pride by asking for help.  In training, it had been so easy to mock the more 'honorable' trainees with their difficulty practicing the rule.  Now, when her survival may have depended on it... ugh.

   Emotions... she could feel them in the air.  She could from the beginning, but she could ignore it from the driving need to get away.  Spending time to plan, they began to flood in.  Too much.  Too many colors, flavors, sensations.  She needed to block it out.

   How odd that in a country ruled by an incubus, she knew next to nothing about them.  Like how they endured the constant flood of emotions.  No.  She couldn't go on an immigration vessel if it was going to be this bad.  Too many people.  Too many emotions.  Augh, her head ached already.

   She looked to one of the two cargo vessels.  One seemed ready to depart soon; and had comparatively few people on board.  She could... maybe suffer that.  Stealing food would be difficult; it'd be more likely noticed.  And she didn't see any women crew out on the deck.  Hopefully, if there were some, they wouldn't miss a dress.

   Oh right, Ti'baltic women dressed in breeches too, didn't they.  Ugh, Evgenija couldn't believe she was going to these people for help.  But, stiff upper lip.  Do what was needed to survive.

   She took a moment to plan her approach to the cargo ship, and slipped down the side of the building.  Folding her wings over herself, she seamlessly slipped into the crowd.  A few of the older generation gave her a strange look, to which she responded with a deadeye glare.  The kind of look the militia gave to citizens who spoke out of turn.  They backed away.

   From there, it was a simple matter to get under the docks.  The tentacles that grew from her wings seemed to know what she needed, and acted as anchors, letting her move between posts without splashing in the water, and drawing attention.

   And from below the docks, to a pallet of crates.  And from there, the cargo hold.  It was almost too easy... and then the got caught.  She was getting the lid off a crate to hide inside it better, but as she was getting the lid closed again, she heard a footstep and the slosh of liquid in a bottle.

   At the stairs to the deck stood a tall, rather large Demon goat in a tricorn hat, and captain's jacket.  He looked at her, then the bottle of some Ti'baltr alcohol in his hand, then back to her.  Without saying a word, he emptied the bottle over the railing, turned and started walking back upstairs.

   "Seein' things again," he muttered as he went.  Evgenija hastily put the lid back on and remained still.  A light spell illuminated her wooden accommodations, and she found she had stumbled upon a crate of garments.  Peasant garments she decided, as she pulled a tunic that belonged hundreds of years in the past up to inspect.  A tag on the side drew her attention.

Gloria Hoo's Spring Line: Peasant Chic.

   "Of all the indulgent, arrogant..."  The vulture rubbed her eyes, and rummaged around for a dress in her size.  A store wealthy enough to stock Ms. Hoo's work could stand to lose a dress for the greater good.  The box had nothing she'd consider decent, but something resembling leather stitched together to form a rough dress fit her well enough.

   From there, it was a matter of waiting for the ship to leave, and dock at Ti'baltr.  Waiting, exercising her magic for the first time in.. years.  She had so much better control now, was it part of becoming a succubus?  Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad?

   Having nothing better to do after practicing the few spells she knew, Evgenija coiled a tabard into a pillow, and laid down to rest.

   She woke up to a stinging sensation, the taste of ash; grief.  It made her gag and jump.  There was so much noise of emotion that she could hear, but the grief stood out strong.  She had to get away, and started to climb out of the crate.

   Hope.  It stunned her for a moment as she got out of the crate, causing her to fall to the ground.  Someone was moving the crates frantically.  Her back was against the hull of the ship, there was nowhere to go.

   She had to be ready for a fight.  But when the crates cleared, there stood a ferret.  Dressed in hospital clothes, with a bag over his left arm that seemed to be bandaged; a patch over his left eye.  Fur, eye, and hair in shades of brown growing lighter as one got higher.  He seemed to have streaks of near-tan in his fur, but only his neck and head were visible to her, so she couldn't tell.

   The moment she and he saw each other, hope crumbled to despair, mixed with grief and pain.  She didn't like it in the least.  The ferret, despite the emotions being of someone close to a breakdown smiled at her, and offered his hand.

   "Hey, I'm Domino.  You look hungry, want to get something to eat?"  She was always perplexed with the Ti'baltic accent.  Low in the mouth, twanged.  It also didn't help that she could hear faint echoes of something else from the ferret.

   She looks scared.  Man up, help her.  Urd would want that.

   So he was being a gentleman out of guilt?  Interesting.  "I'm Evgenija," she replied in the more cultured and controlled Kebrian accent, as she stood.  She was taller, she realized.  Normally a ferret would be waist high to her, but now... the man came up to her mid-thigh.  Disconcerting.  "And... I would like some food... please?"  Ti'baltic manners were different than Kebrian, the poor vulture tried to phrase it as neutrally as possible.

   Grief and despair fading into a consistent, aching pain, the ferret started off down the docks.  Following him, Evgenija was taken aback by what she saw.  Ti'baltr.  The city of the sea.

   Bizzare, the sun catching off towers of irregular shape, some ending in single spiraled tops, others branching halfway into many smaller such structures, others being bulbous at the base and narrowing as they grew.  And more than one that seemed to incorporate waterfalls into their very design.  The principal building materials seemed to be metal and stone; even the pier she stood on was metal painted with various warning signs and esoteric patterns which seemed to change depending on what sort of ships were docked near them.

   "She's beautiful, no?"  The ferret had stopped to wait for her.  The vulture shook herself out of her stupor, and resumed walking.  "You should see her at night."

   "Yes, I'm sure," she tried to sound professional, as they walked.  The ferret was still a stranger to her.  "I hope your restaurants stock bone marrow."

   "Ma chère," the ferret exclaimed in some foreign language she didn't understand, as if he was not emotionally a wreck right now, "this is Ti'baltr.  If it exists in the world, it can be bought here.  Do you prefer red or yellow marrow?"

   Cheeky thing.


This story may have a Cubi as one of its three main characters; but I'm going to try focusing a bit more on Demons, Angels, and Mythos in this fic.

[ZacAttac21]

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*Gives cookies to Evgenija*