Heartworm

The smell of blood was overwhelming to the senses. There had been very little work done to clean the remains of the dock since Laia’s ambush two days ago. The entire edge of the town was splattered in the metallic and spoiled blood of the Deathless. The things that creature was capable of, for having so little life experience was frightening. It was like watching a toddler wield a longbow with proficiency. It confounded every precedent set before it. Then again, everything about that Deathless was counter to precedent.

“Unmoor that vessel there, Lucas.” Laia ordered, moving her arm out to the side towards a small fishing boat that had come back to Urden just last night. The boat rested just at the end of my senses, outlined in milky white like everything else around it.

“Did they clear us to commandeer it?”

“Does it matter, Lucas? There is no answer that will change the outcome. We will leave in the boat regardless.”

I didn’t like her tone of voice, nor the words that slithered out of her lips with it. But she had made it clear enough, she was not interested in asking if we could take the boat or not.

“It’ll take us a few days to reach the other side of Uroro. I can only row so much to get us there, and realistically I will need to take the occasional break.” I explained as we stepped over the splintered wood that littered the ground to walk to the boat. I could sense all around us the remains of Urden’s dock. I could help but feel sorry for the state we were leaving this place in. Our duty was to protect the Empire of Kistram. This town was a part of that Empire, yet we had left arguably their most important structure as a fishing town a complete wreck. I knew it wasn’t worth bringing it up to Laia, she’d most likely say that it was a necessary sacrifice, that the elimination of the Deathless would more than make up for one town’s dock.

But it wasn’t one town’s dock. It was the people of Thrum, unwittingly used by Laia to pursue the Belligerent Bandits. It was the destruction of the mountain estate, the chaos caused within the city of Thrieve. She was leaving damage all across the Empire due to her endless pursuit. I wondered if there was ever a limit for her. If there was a line that she would even hesitate to cross when she reached it. Given that she was willing to plunge her weapons into my heart at the estate to kill her own brother, it seemed that was a firm no.

A hunter with Inthenia blessed strength and not a single limit was terrifying to behold. It would never end well, not for the Empire, and not for Laia.

“When you cease rowing I will simply take over.” Laia stately plainly as she stepped up to the edge of the small fishing boat.

“If you attempt to row this boat, you’ll split every stitch and paint the deck red with your blood.”

“Then I suggest you keep rowing.” She retorted, positioning herself on the back end of the vessel. It was impossible to tell if her words were meant to be taken as a joke or not. I opted for the safer assumption, that she was not joking.

“For Inthenia’s sake, you had better not take every opportunity to be reckless. We are both Marked. You had better remind yourself that we are in this together.” The last words I uttered felt wrong as they left my mouth. It didn’t feel like I was following alongside Laia anymore. It felt more like I was following behind some kind of typhoon that would tear itself apart on the way to its destination.

* * * * *

“You did what?!”

The booming timbre of Kyrsta woke me with a start. The boiling rage within her voice was so oppressive that it caused me to curl the claws of my feet, despite not being the recipient of her scourging words. There was intense pressure towards the back of my head that throbbed with a rhythmic repetition. The pain was so intense I could hardly tell that I was being held tightly by something. Or someone, rather. When I rolled my neck to the side to look to the left, I saw Nessyndra holding me upright, her scaly arms holding me firm, most likely to protect me from hitting the ground when I passed out. Her face was hardened, and her eyes were locked in tandem with her mother across the room.

“It was necessary. How else would you have expected this Deathless to participate in this trial?”

“To the best of its ability. If the creature cannot understand the language of the place it invades, that is not my quandary to resolve.”

“Well I made it my quandary, and resolve it, I did.”

“By spearing the creature with my mother’s soulstone. You are so far out of your depth, Nessyndra. The theft of a royal lineage soulstone has been added to the record, and will be nestled amongst the other charges you face.”

“You can nestle those charges right up your ass, next the stick you’ve got up there!” I shouted, possibly speaking out of order. To be honest, I had not been filled in enough on Crutia court proceedings to know if there was a right and wrong time to talk. It didn’t matter much to me, however. Even if I spoke at the right time, my words would cause the same level of disagreements. Sure enough, Kyrsta shifted her flared eyes towards me. The fury that broiled in the base of her sclera set my hairs on end.

“The creature reawakes to speak more nonsense, I see.” Kyrsta spat. I was genuinely surprised that she had enough restraint to allow me to respond. Judging by the emotions present on her face, I would have expected her to lay into me without stopping for minutes.

“Nonsense? Here I thought I was speaking Crutian. Do you think so low of your own language, Kyrsta?” I spat.

“Drulama. That is the title which you will refer to me with in this room during the proceedings of this trial. I would urge you to exercise some level of respect in these walls, creature, lest I accelerate these proceedings to skip to the verdict.”

“She does not understand the format of this court, Moth- Drulama. Please have patience.” Nessyndra slipped a response out before I managed to utter one of my own. It seemed she was still keen on operating within the bounds of this trial. I lacked any sort of confidence for this kind of trial. It reminded me far too much of the trials that took place after Vyra’s death. Trials that took place after they had killed her, in order to present why they thought it was justified, and skirt around any sort of consequences one might expect to receive for assassinating one of their own students. I was unfortunately forced to sit through those trials, hearing my name crop up as some kind of justification for her execution. It was sickening.

“Then I will lay it out as plainly as I can. Creature, you are on trial for the crime of trespassing and threatening the lives of the Crutia within Uroro. I ask that you present your case, along with your representative. If your case is sufficient, we will decide how to extradite you peacefully. If it is insufficient, we will decide how to… deal with you. Do you understand the concepts of a trial? Or a court, for that matter?”

“Do you think of me as a child? I know it must be hard to separate me from Snug. The only other Deathless you’ve ever seen…” I knew I was playing with fire, bringing up the memories of the past I only had access to through the soulstone lodged into the back of my skull. But how dangerous was it to play with fire when you were at the bottom of a lake? I’d take my chances.

“Do not speak of what you do not understand.” The searing anger of her voice erupted once more. Despite being able to understand the words, the slithering noises that formed the words were still harsh to my ears. Especially when they were hissed out with copious amounts of venom. “If you continue to recite dead memories, I will make you regret it.” Kyrsta continued.

“Then to answer your question, I do understand the concept of a trial.”

“Good. Then we will continue, with your representative, Nessyndra, finishing her thought from earlier.”

The trial continued, as I could loosely hear in a cloudy collection of voices. Unfortunately, the memories of Cyndri seemed primed to return, and with it, my attention was ripped away from the discussion that Nessyndra was having with her mother.

* * * * *

“Mom!” Snug cried out, reaching out towards its recently constructed statue of the two of us. The pain in its voice carved rivulets of sorrow into my heart. As much as I understood its desire to retrieve the sculpture, I knew there was no time. The plenda was slipping from the gnush that it was attached to. Another kick or two from the mob outside, and it could slip free entirely.

“Leave it, Snug! We need to go!” I reached out to grab the wrist of my child. We needed to move towards Kyrsta’s childhood room, where she claimed to have an alternate exit for the two of us. While grasping towards Snug, it leapt forwards and slipped from my scaled hands. Like a desperate animal, it crawled towards the shelf to snatch up the statue. By the time I caught up to Snug, it had already secured one half of the sculpture, the half that depicted myself raising Snug into the air. Though broken arms made the sculpture look far more morbid than it was meant to.

“Now, Snug!” I yelled, firmly wrapping my hand around its upper arm to tug it towards me. Another thud against the plenda barrier caused a corner to slip loose from its fitting. We were desperately lacking in time.

“Cyndri, hurry up!” Kyrsta waved us forward, standing in the passageway into her old bedroom. Once we had neared the room, she slipped inside, with myself and Snug only a few steps behind. Once we had crossed the barrier into the bedroom, another crash at the front barrier reverberated through the gnush towards the three of us. The sounds of the mob had suddenly become much louder, which could only mean one thing.

They had broken in.

I could see Kyrsta desperately pushing her bed to the side, and Snug digging its claws deep into my arm out of fear. The terrified expressions on both of their faces wrenched my guts in twists and wrings. A mother should never have to witness their child fear for their life. Let alone two, at the same time. The aching that had wormed its way into my heart was enough to provoke a reaction I had not had since I was a teenager. My gills expulsed in a painful display of distress. The mob that wanted my child was walking through my house. My life, my family, everything I knew and loved was crumbling away before my eyes. The strain of my gills flaring and clamping shut was so intense I was barely aware of the blood that was slowly dripping down my right arm. Snug must have pierced my scales in its stress. I looked down to my child to see the pale skin of Snug being colored quickly by miniscule rivers of sickly green light.

My child, my baby, was moments away from erupting once more. Snug was hyperventilating and hiding being my right arm as the first few members of the mob stepped inside the bedroom. If Snug repeated its outburst from the market, everyone in the room would surely die. If it was the same at all. There was no telling if the uncontrolled reaction would be the same as the last time.

“BACK! STAY BACK!” I screamed, holding out my arms towards the encroaching crowd that spilled into the room, each member seemingly more eager than the last to lay their eyes on my child.

“LIKE HELL! THAT MONSTER KILLED MY DAUGHTER!”

“I’LL MAKE THAT CREATURE PAY!”

They paid my warning no heed. The words that piled over each other in a horrific symphony seemed to be the final trigger to push Snug over the end. A guttural screech split my ears. When I turned to look at my child, I could see blistering pustules of sickly green bubbling to the surface of its skin, ready to burst at any moment.

* * * * *

“-to conclude, our previous encounter with a Deathless in Uroro resulted in it fleeing. I don’t have any reason to believe you have a solution to Ester’s immortality. If that’s the case, you would have no way to deal with her, as you previously suggested. If you aimed to keep her contained by repeated maiming, I would suggest you think further about the idea of torturing an immortal creature. She would eventually escape, and would have no hesitations slaughtering her way through Uroro to be free.” Nessyndra proudly finished her statement, talking with an officiality that undoubtedly originated from her being groomed into the future queen when her mother passed.

I had only just refocused myself into the ongoing trial to catch the end of her statement. I caught myself blinking away tears that had accumulated whilst my attention was elsewhere. Was I crying due to the memories? That wasn’t very far-fetched. Reliving such a traumatic experience was sure to have an effect on me. Though… I wasn’t reliving it at all. Crossing wires in my mind was becoming more and more frequent the more I experienced memories that didn’t belong to me. Though it was not my life, and they were not my family, it hurt to watch the events of Cyndri’s live unfold before me. The fear was visceral, and were I not face to face with Kyrsta, I could certainly believe that those might have been her last moments.

The writhing desperation of Cyndri was wringing more tears out of my eyes as I attempted to follow along with the trial. The emotions were so negative that I was desperate to avoid the next surge of memories.

“You’ve got plenda in your eyes, creature.” Kyrsta spoke to me whilst gesturing towards the underside of her own eyes. Aside from the fact that she had misconstrued my tears for plenda, I was taken aback by the interaction. Plenda was not irritating to Crutia, but she seemed to remember that for any non-Crutians, it was an uncomfortable stinging sensation akin to getting ocean water in your eyes. Did she mean to extend such a gesture of kindness? Or was it old habits? Cyndri’s memories reminded me of the times that she had seen Kyrsta wipe the plenda from Snug’s eyes when it was first adjusting to the sensation.

“To respond to your statement, Nessyndra. Am I to understand your reasoning as some kind of threat? To release this creature, or face the consequences of it’s rage?”

“Her rage… Drulama I have already clarified her name is Ester. I believe retaining a level of respect in the proceedings is necessary to facilitate a productive engagement. Regardless, it was not intended as a threat. Merely to point out that realistically it would be impractical to execute, detain, or punish this Deathless. If there is nothing to be gained from finding her guilty of trespassing and threatening, what is the reason for this trial? Is it just to prove a point?”

The pause that followed Nessyndra’s response was much longer than any that had come before. Kyrsta was deep in thought. As much as I enjoyed the momentary lapse in constant noise, I feared that any moment now I would return to Cyndri’s memories, and I had a few things to say before that happened.

“Your honor-” I started.

“Why would you seek to bring up my honor?” Kyrsta responded, leaning forward in her chair to press her arms against the gnush platform before her.

“Huh? Oh… no I meant that as a means of address, your hono- uh… Drulama.” She looked at me with confusion, even shooting a glance towards Nessyndra who simply shrugged, before looking back to me. “Dryling speak, I guess.” I gave an awkward laugh in an attempt to ease the confusion within the crowd. No one laughed with me. “Drulama, may I ask what your plan was when you sat us all down in this room. Was there a punishment in mind?”

“In an effort to exercise transparency, my first instinct is to detain you within Uroro, until the public could come to a collective settlement on how we proceed from there.”

“Indefinite containment?” I asked, to clarify what she meant. She gave a nod to acknowledge my question. The realization of her words made my hands shake. I didn’t want to be caged again. Not like in Varenthell Academy, not like in Thrieve. Never again.

“It sounds like you are acting out of hate, Drulama. Using me as some sort of proxy for the wrongs you’ve yet to put to rest from years ago.”

“If hate is what will protect my people, then I will wield it as needed. I will not allow them to be harmed by a Deathless ever again.”

“I do not wish to be known as a hateful Queen. That’s what you said, is it not? I wonder what that Kyrsta would have to say about the Drulama if she were in this room.”

* * * * *

“Off… take it off, sparkplug! You can only apply that thirty seconds at a time. Her heart will explode if you keep it on too long!”

“Explode?! What absurd sort of plant do you have me handling, Phern?”

“Thrazzlenuts! Where did I set my root pot!”

“This hardly looks like a type of nut, Phern.”

“Wha? No! It’s Mortiaroot. I was expressing my frustration that the pot I JUST sat down is already nowhere to be seen.”

“Mortiaroot?! Are you trying to kill me?”

“Why would I want to kill you silly, there’s a reason I told you to only hold it with your right arm. Now where could this pot have gone? I just had it in my hands!”

“Thank the Gods I am a good listener. I cannot believe you’d hand me something so deadly so casually.”

“It’s only deadly if you handle it incorrectly, sparkplug! NOW WHERE IN THE GODS TAINTED FLIBBERDOG SANCTUARY IS THIS ROOTPOT?”

“Is it the pot under your leg there?”

“.......oh, cool.”