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A Fistful of Dust
116. First Memory

116. First Memory

Rana

An overcast day. Perfect for hunting.

She crept closer. Paused. It bobbed and dipped, then landed on the tip of a reed. She inched forward. Its bulbous eyes reflected clouds, lily pads, and the worthless midges it hunted as they buzzed over the swamp.

The dragonfly clutched a gnat in its mandibles to eat the smaller bug headfirst. Distracted. Preoccupied.

Opportunity.

She leaped. In the few heartbeats of the jump, the dragonfly’s wings buzzed in the first stages of flight. It lifted a fraction above the reed but couldn’t dodge her strike.

She bit. Wings flapped, and tail thrashed. She fought for balance after landing on the stalk. The dragonfly struggled, then stilled.

Success.

She had been an egg. A tadpole. A frog. Next, she would be a Warrior.

Swallowing the awkward shape proved difficult. She worked the dragonfly with her jaw and arms, stuffing its wings and tail down her throat. She didn’t notice the shadow.

Feathers ruffled overhead. A plunging beak glinted. Menacing talons neared her vulnerable flesh.

A pink, sticky tongue slapped the heron in the chest, yanking it away an instant later. She heard munching and crunching not far away.

Stupid bird. They should know by now Mother’s Guardians protected Her children.

The Green Swamp was a safe place.

She finished her meal and basked in the waning day. The sun fell. Twilight.

A Toad Warrior waded through the duckweed, lily pads, and reed grass. Elder Brother.

All her siblings were bigger than her. She was a frog among toads. Many of her siblings had already become Warriors. Her task was to hunt and study her elders until the final transformation.

Egg. Tadpole. Frog. Warrior.

She had been the last to hatch. The last to grow legs. She wouldn’t be the last Warrior.

She followed him.

They passed several Guardians; some buried to their eyeballs in muck. Others swam with siblings from her year on their backs. She hopped from reed to reed while pursuing brother to the edge of the swamp. Dozens, then hundreds of glowing fireflies filled the air as the moon crested the horizon.

A strange sound drifted through the mist and trees, stirring something inside her. She recognized the rhythm after a moment. She knew where they’d arrived.

The Temple.

Stone steps rose from the weedy water to a wide platform. Two towering stone frogs stood watch on either side. Flowers crowded their backs and hung from their necks in curtains. Piles of tribute lay at their feet.

She’d never understood what the humans expected Mother to do with the worthless shiny metal. At least Warriors could eat the food offerings.

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A villager with a flower necklace sat on the steps with a wooden guiro frog, making what humans called ‘music.’ Scraping the beater stick on the carving’s ribbed spine poorly imitated a ribbit. The villager wore a headband with painted wooden ‘frog eyes’ as if they’d fool anyone.

Brother drew near enough for the human’s weak vision to notice.

The villager exclaimed in a shrill voice and, teeth bared, ran at brother. Splashing noisily through the shallow water, the human leaped at him without a weapon.

How foolish. She’d never seen a human throw their life away like this. The combatants wrapped their arms around each other as if to wrestle, though the conclusion was obvious. A Toad Warrior’s strength outclassed humanity by magnitudes.

After a moment of struggle, brother plucked the comparatively smaller villager from his chest and advanced toward the steps. Interesting. Rather than crush the insolent human, brother would dash the villager’s fragile skull against stone. She’d have to remember the strategy if an ungrateful human ever attacked her.

Brother lifted the human, and… gently set their feet on the ground?

Then, as he climbed the stairs, brother transformed. His body, muscles, eyes, and mouth shrank. His thick, leathery skin thinned and smoothed. He was smaller, weaker, and softer. Almost human. The insanity of it shocked her. Why would a powerful Warrior purposely diminish themselves? He bared his teeth.

No, he and the human were ‘smiling.’

She and her siblings visited the Temple often to accept tribute on Mother’s behalf. The Green Swamp protected humans. Villagers provided food and entertainment in gratitude. She’d learned language by listening to humans talk, so she knew a few things.

A flower necklace meant this human belonged to the Temple. Two lumps of flesh on their chest meant she was a woman.

The human woman attacked brother again. No, she ‘hugged’ him and rested her head on his chest.

“I missed you,” she said.

Though diminished, brother remained larger. That was a human thing; bombinas were bigger than bufos.

“I missed you too, Little Flower.”

This time, when she smiled at him, he didn’t return the gesture. “What’s wrong?”

“The Green Swamp is moving on,” brother said. “Don’t worry, your family is safe; we’ll leave the Guardians behind. Mother likes this place. They’ll protect the land until we return in a couple decades… or a century.”

“But,” Little Flower frowned as if in pain. Then her expression hardened. “I’ll come with you. Make me your wife.” The presumption of this woman!

Brother sighed, “Not impossible. Mother would let me, but life will be hard in the Green Swamp.”

“I can live a hard life,” she said with confidence.

“I know. That’s something I love about you.” He brushed the hair from her face and held her cheek. “It’ll be lonely.”

“You and our children will be the only company I need.”

“What about your friends? Your family?”

Little Flower’s face fell. “Father… Without me at the Temple, he can’t afford medicine. Wait, what’ll happen to the Temple?”

Brother lifted her chin and leaned forward, “Do you trust me?” Little Flower nodded. “Watch the lights.”

They pressed their mouths together. She thought they were eating each other for a moment, but they made enjoying sounds. This was ‘kissing.’ They embraced, lips locked, cradling one another’s faces.

The whole thing confused her. Why did brother care about this human? Why weaken himself?

And yet, something about the kiss intrigued her. It seemed—nice? What would it be like to be cared for like that? To be wanted? How would it feel to be held by someone? For Him to press His lips to hers?

That’s not right. She hadn’t met Him yet—and His skin would burn hers anyway.

The her in the memory yearned for something she didn’t understand, a word she didn’t know, and a someone who, as yet, had no name.

Her body tingled, and everything around her shrank.

Brother and Little Flower broke their kiss. The woman lifted her arm to the moonlight, marveling at the appearance of a stylized tattoo. “This is the Toad Mark,” brother said. “The Guardians listen to those who bear it. When the Green Swamp leaves, you can become High Priestess. Your family will want for nothing.”

Her body wouldn’t obey. Her balance failed.

The splash alerted her brother and the woman. “A rana?” The two approached before she could make sense of her legs and escape.

“A girl? So cute! One of your sisters?” Little Flower embraced her.

Cute? Like a human? She wasn’t supposed to be cute! She was supposed to be a fearsome bombina!

Brother took her in his arms with a deep sigh. “She must have seen us and Imprinted humanoid instead of Toad Warrior. It’ll be years before she learns the form mastery to fix the problem. I’ll have to explain this to Mother.”

Egg. Tadpole. Frog. Girl.

Wrong! All Wrong!

“Sorry, little rana. I just made your life a lot harder. I owe you one.”