Born a Monster

“Beh.” I said, halfway between a word and vomiting.

“That happens when you don’t drink enough water.” Amara said. “Get up, and you can fetch some.”

“And if I decide my destiny doesn’t involve fetching water?” I asked.

She swung the pail at my head. I’d like to say playfully; there was more than enough time to dodge it. “All living things need water.” she said. “Even if you choose hardship for us, I’ll only send a different child.”

Was I, though? A child? I must have been, for I took the pail and set out for water from the nearby river.

Right past the small clearing where too many riding lizards were penned. one of them sent.

I sent back.

she sent.

.....

I sent.

sent a younger male.

I didn’t see with my eyes the way she rolled her eyes both physically and emotionally at the same time. But it makes more sense to me that it did, so I shall always claim she did so.

he sent.

She flicked her tongue.

He took a step back.

Flashes of [Approval] and [Courage] circulated around the pen, the tiniest among them radiating . As is often with the least among any group, her words were ignored.

the female agreed.

He flicked his tongue out in my direction.

I sent, before I could stop myself.

she asked.

There was more than the water, as it turned out. It was past breakfast, and lunch, and most of the way to dinner. I plucked a strand of hay out from where it was stuck between my teeth as I returned to the pen. Some of the lizards were gone, presumably saddled and ridden out.

she sent.

I hopped over the fence. I said.

I snorted. My vision was still... not acceptable, but the eyes were rounded, and fit snugly against their lids. I asked.

And I sent them, the eviscerations, the lethal bites, their fellows folded in half backward until their spines broke.

And why should they respond as humans would? With horror or fear? No, these were monsters, like myself. They closed in, to better receive the images, the subtext, the memories of movement, the scents. To them, each image was a tale of victory, and never mind that one of their fellows had come to a bad end.

the runtling sent.

She wasn’t, and she shouldn’t have warned me. Her pounce carried her high into the air, the sun on her back, and in my eyes. It didn’t stop me from grabbing her by her throat as she descended. Of letting her knock me to one knee, so as to spare her the impact that would have broken it.

Her claws ruined my clothes; I set her roughly upon her back, smacking her snout with my free hand to emphasize how powerless she was against me.

she said.

I said,

What?

But I was. Right there on my right front abdomen. One of her foot claws had pierced a scale, done two points of damage. And while I wasn’t [Bleeding], I was bleeding. I admitted.

she responded.

I scrolled my reticule over her.

“Hrrm.” I said.

[Insufficient Genetic Modification Pool.] my System told me.

[Lack of ability.] it also said.

I said.

I slowly backed off of her. I asked the group.

I won’t bore you with the details; they wanted to know sights and scents, and the odd sounds or textures I had come across. How it felt to have bare skin, or fur, or feathers.

“You there.” one of the passing Kamajeen said. “Get out of there, those beasts will tear you apart.”

“These beasts and I have come to an understanding.” I said. Exactly. On. Cue.

[You have taken eight points of Lacerating damage. After armor, two points have been received.]

“Except for the runt of the litter.” I said, shaking her off my left leg. “She seems to have quite the temper.”

“Child.” he said. “I may not be your father, but I am an adult, and you WILL heed my words. Get out of there... now!”

A short leap had carried me over the fence earlier; an equally short effort saw me over it again.

He approached me, reaching out to grab my head. I slapped his hand away, and he tried again. This time, I did a [Wrist Block].

“By the beard of the Nameless Father!” he exclaimed. “What martial witchcraft was THAT?” His eyes no longer focused upon me. “Hm. Ah. Yes, I see.”

A point of [Jealousy] deflected from my sin armor. My System didn’t help ME like that.

“How are your eyes?” he asked. “May I see them?”

“Not much to see.” I said. “They’re still covered with a grey film.”

He looked at my eyes anyway. “And you had no eyes two days ago?” he asked.

“I heal quickly.” I said.

“The Nameless One has blessed the world with many miracles.” he decided. “You must come to my tent some night and tell me of this land Dauria.”

“I regret that all of my nights will spent with Venkatar ibn Samish ibn Al’Katar, who is...”

He turned his head to the left and spat. “That son of dogs has no place among the true Kamajeen. Get his leave to ride with us some day, and I shall tell you whom our vizier truly is.”

“If he lets you, of course.” he added.

“I have met an interesting person in camp.” I told Venkatar.

“Only one?” Ima asked. The children chuckled.

“You have several interesting riding lizards.” I said, “But they are a folk, and not, properly speaking, a people.”

Thank you, merciless gods, that they didn’t realize I meant people were the lesser of the two.

“Who is this interesting person? What is her name?” Ziza asked, nearly spilling coffee on me.

“The man I met was Ahmad bin Susek, and asked me to ride a scouting mission with him.”

“Ooooooooo.” said Glin.

Venkatar smiled at me. “There is no love between that man and myself.” he said. “I would thank you to never mention his name inside my tent again, nor to speak mine in his. So long as you return here each night, I care not what you do with your days.”

“I care.” Amara said. “You would not be poorly advised to stay away from that man. He is a snake.”

I put my thumbs at the joint where my jaw met my neck, and waggled my fingers. “As someone who is also part snake, I think I’ll be okay spending one day in the saddle next to his.”

The children found this hilarious.

None of the adults laughed.

And yes, my Truthspeaker Oath requires me to profess I didn’t see it. There is more to the world than sight.

No, this isn’t about to become a romance novel. I’m just trying to make a point that not all of us react the same way. They didn’t care that I’d slain members of their kin. Or that I would kill others later. Perhaps them, if we were to fight. It. Didn’t. Matter.

She hadn’t been kidding, and did two points of damage to my tail as soon as I turned my back upon her.