Though it was a nameless town that suffered that loss at the hands of the deceitful Keel, the results of that loss are called the Massacre of Tiliel. The Massacre! Do not forget what that word means! Never forget what they did to our people! Whenever the foul “moderates” raise their heads and dare to suggest that the eastern scourge that calls themselves an “Empire” might be something we can make peace with, we need only remember the fallen. Those who did nothing more than follow the Gran Verat’s commands! Why would we allow those bloodthirsty beasts to stand among us, when they murdered those who followed the absolute mandate of our divine leader?
–Instructions from High Veran Leiteli to those of the conservative wing of the Synod.
I dreamed of clashing metal, exploding flames, and screams of agony. All around me, keelish and humans battled for survival as Callings burst into life and began to exterminate my people. In return, sprinting packs of keelish dashed through and around the felled bodies of their comrades to set into the humans. There, the brutal melee devolved into ripping and tearing as Earthspeakers fought to protect their friends.
This was a true battlefield, much different to the meek battles I’d witnessed between tribes, and more soul-shaking than the little “war” I’d staged against the wolfstags. That was only a bloody hunt. This… everywhere I looked, I could see crumpled bodies and weeping wounds, the smell of offal and viscera choked the air, and I couldn’t take a single step without wetting my toes in blood. The screams of dying keelish and humans alike mixed to a constant, bone-chilling cry, and though I couldn’t remember fighting against anything, the taste of blood filled my mouth and mind alike. Part of me revolted at the assault on all of my senses, and another part of me gloried in it. Did I want to set my people on this path? Was there any other option? As my mind battled against itself, some of the first words the Administrator had said to me began to echo through my mind:
[If the juncture comes in the which you must choose, choose violence. It may not be the answer for a human, but it nearly always is for a Keel.]
Her words filled my mind, echoing through every recess of me until I could feel my body shaking with the influence of her power, of the Administrator’s unfathomable purpose. Around me, the bodies began to rise, human and keelish alike, their jaws unhinging wide open as their voices joined the chorus.
“Choose violence.”
“Choose violence!”
“CHOOSE VIOLENCE!”
“CHOOSE! CHOOSE! CHOOSE!”
I sat bolt upright as the dream faded from my mind. As I gasped and tried to gather myself, to regain my composure, Nievtala’s presence descended over me. “Choose.” Her voice set my mind to quaking once again, and I shuddered in place, trying to calm myself. Beside me, Sybil stirred before waking and looking at me. Immediately she saw the struggles in my eyes and rose from our wolfstag pelt bed to sit beside me. Wordlessly, she nuzzled into the crook of my jaw and neck, and her presence paired with her warm breath and the soft rustling of scale on scale calmed me enough to stop my desperate, wheezing attempts to get more air.
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As the den around me slowly came into better focus, Sybil stood and gently raised me to my feet. It took me a moment to realize that her steps led me to the bath, where she led me to settling deep into the sands. I didn’t hesitate to release my magic in a [Skill]less discharge of vibrations through the sands. They scrubbed my whole body and eased into the cracks between my scales as Sybil stepped behind me and began to lightly massage the soft and tender spots of my neck, jaws, face, and frills.
After minutes passed by, I had nearly recovered and opened my eyes to look at Sybil. She looked at me with genuine concern, and as we made eye contact, she didn’t press me. Instead, she simply asked, “Are you ok?”
I let out a shuddering breath I hadn’t realized had still been stuck in my chest. “Better.” Then, with another, deeper, calmer breath, I added, “Thank you, Sybil.”
She nodded, and, as was her way, said no more. I was reminded of aggressive lovers from my past life, women who had constantly pushed themselves to show me their affection and devotion, and in so doing, had pushed me away. Sybil, instead, was comfortable and sure of herself, present and supportive, but never pushy. She pushed herself hard as my Beta, pushed herself to support me to the best of her ability as my second in command, but as a lover, she was… comfortable.
For the first time, I wondered if I was as important a partner to her as she was to me. If my presence meant as much to her as hers did to mine. I’d simply thought that I was a catch, as a khatif and Alpha, and much more, but did I do enough for her? With a stretch of my arm, I caught Sybil’s hand and pulled her into the sands of the bath with me. She yelped in surprise, as under the influence of my magic, the sands had fluidized, and she fell directly into my arms and lap. A part of me wondered over how I knew what fluidization was, but the rest of me immediately tamped that curious part of me down.
“Sybil.”
She looked up into my eyes and, after a moment’s hesitation, relaxed into my chest. “Yes, Ashlani?”
“Thank you, again. Not just for comforting me, but for supporting me in my plans, for asking questions, for caring for me, for helping make my general thoughts into actionable plans. For following my directions, and for ensuring that the directions I give are wise. Thank you for making me better.”
Sybil had averted her eyes as I continued my praises and thanks, but she returned to returning my gaze. “Thank you, Ashlani, for being yourself with me. I know there are things you know you do not share, but tell me what you can, and I will be here for you.” Then, she nuzzled into my neck once again, and the quiet sounds of my magic shifting the sands and the scrape of scale on scale filled my den. I felt the desire, the almost instinctual need to mate with Sybil, and I pressed my chest against her, and I felt reciprocated in her the same desire.
“Hey! Ashy boy! I hear you have a great new plan! Wanna tell me about it?”
Rulac’s voice interrupted us before we could move any more, and as I bitterly whirled around to look, I could see a self-satisfied smirk covering his stupid, fat face. He knew what he had done, and he gloried in it. As I fought to keep my rage in check, he continued, “Oh, sorry, were you in the middle of something?”