“I begin to understand. I believe that, if you can prove that you contain the power of the desperate, you will be able to prove yourself and your people here fahvalo. That… is not easy nor simple.” The grin spread wide across Bloodspeaker Ana’s face and I was again struck by the fact that she was not a human with black skin but a predator in the truest sense, and only in the general shape of a human. The Veushten people, at their palest, were still deeply tanned, and varied from there all the way to the deep, dark brown of fertile soil. The Moonchildren, however, were black, leathery-skinned, with fur running down their spines and foot-long fingers. Their eyes ranged in color, but only among the palest shades, when they weren’t strangely flashing with foreign colors. The blue of the sky at noon, the yellow of the full moon just cresting the horizon, and the faded brown of a burlraiz’s roots were common enough shades from those we saw. All had the same massive eyes that dominated their faces, and every iris expanded nearly completely to the corner of the eye. The sclera was barely visible when they turned their eyes to the extreme.

Right now, though, what struck me was none of those things. Instead, it was the shape of Ana’s mouth. The Moonchildren’s faces nearly had snouts, their faces elongated and coming to a near point at the mouth, and when Ana bared her predator’s smile, the four sharp, long canines in her mouth were bared. Each one was over an inch long, and I got the feeling that she could open her mouth wide enough to use them like four little stilettos.

She wasn’t the only predator in the conversation though. I bared my own teeth in what could generously be called a smile and accurately be called a snarl. “There is, after all, no other choice available to us.”

Bloodpriestess Ana laughed more honestly than I’d heard from the Moonchild so far. It rang out through the air, and I was somehow reminded of the sound of the call of an owl mixed with the quiet rush of wind through the trees. It wasn’t a beautiful laugh, but an honest one. I couldn’t help but slightly relax my own threatening grin into a gentler, truer smile in response.

“You are beginning to understand how to be fahvalo. I will gather those against whom you will struggle to prove yourselves. Prepare.”

I stepped back to my swarm and began to think. I wasn’t sure what to say and was about to start some potentially rousing speech… but couldn’t. Instead, I thought for a moment, then began to speak.

“We have only one option and one goal in this fight: win. I don’t care what you do, but win. I’ll be commanding, Took and Sybil will be my seconds. Try not to kill, but don’t hesitate to strike a final blow if necessary. Between victory and death, choose victory and our lives over theirs. Everyone, get ready to rip and tear.”

With a nod I gestured towards my swarm before finishing, “Every one of you–Victory by fang and blood!” Around me, I saw the jaws of my fellow keelish set, and everyone around got low to the ground. Beside me, Foire looked for somewhere to place Trai, but with a sinking feeling in my heart and stomach, I reached out a hand. Confused, he offered Trai into my arms, and she smiled widely up at me. I nuzzled her neck, my head nearly the size of her torso, and I saw just how big she’d gotten.

Trai had continued to grow, even while the rest of us shed every extra pound, and was now about three feet tall. Her scales shone in the light of the meadow as I set her down. “Foire. She needs to accompany us.”

“No, she doesn’t! I protect her, and she will be safe, not fighting and dying!” He snapped at me, never thinking.

“Are you desperate to survive?”

“Yes! That’s why I’m willing to fight for you. But–”

“Are you really?” I asked again, my voice laced with traces of my magic. As Foire looked at me, fear and confusion battling across his face, I continued, “because I am. I’m willing to sacrifice whatever is necessary. If it is your life. My own. Sybil’s. Or Trai’s. If any of our swarm dies now, then I will mourn them, I will wish it hadn’t been necessary, and I will thank them for their willingness to lay down their lives for the rest of us. I will engrave their names on my heart, and I will survive! I will continue! Because I’m desperate!”

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

Foire’s face broke, his breath catching in his throat as the possibility of finality, the possibility of his daughter’s death settled over him. He began to hyperventilate, his eyes running everywhere wildly, searching for something. And then, Trai leaned into her father’s leg and spoke.

“Victory, Dad. I’ll keep you safe too.” Then, while Foire and I struggled to understand her resolve, she turned, faced the opposite side of the clearing, and bared her teeth. I looked across the clearing as well and finally took it in. It was a couple hundred feet across and irregularly shaped. The tactician’s part of my brain noticed three sinkholes, apparently where the damp ground had collapsed in on itself, and I quietly mentioned them to the keelish around me, Trai listening to my commands with an intense severity. I heard them spread the news further while I watched the slowly assembling Moonchildren, their numbers swelling far beyond what I had thought they would be. The suns beat down on us from overhead, and I hoped that the Moonchildren would struggle to see in this light when their eyes were so obviously built for darkness. The clearing itself was thickly grassed, but the grasses weren’t so long as to function as a hiding place.

“Took, Sybil. Make everyone find one stone for every hand they have empty. When it begins, we let loose a high salvo.” Both nodded severely, but Took shifted back and forth for a moment, her eyes pleading.

“No, Took. You’re the best option we have right now for my right hand in combat. Take up the position.”

“... I’m not much of a leader.”

“Didn’t think I was either. But here we are. Now, go lead. Get the rocks, and lead our swarm to battle.”

Took nodded, turned back to the swarm, and began leading them in collecting stones of the right size and weight. She didn’t see it, but the swarm deferred to her gentle instructions. I commanded and they obeyed, but Took walked and the swarm followed. There was a quiet, absolute quality to her that the swarm followed almost instinctively, and I realized that Rulac had had that same quality.

Rulac. Wisterl. Hundreds more.

A shuddering breath mirroring Foire’s threatened to catch in my throat, and I felt my breathing restrict. Wisterl, the crazed warmonger. Never again would I be pressed into sparring with her. I couldn’t continue to learn combat from her, and I knew I needed it. I was still just a brute most of the time, and she’d been a killer, graceful and elegant as she danced through the macabre, disgusting dance of death. I knew I was markedly stronger than she was, but I still couldn’t come close to beating her in any fight, much less a fair one. Her yelling at me to come practice, her jibes while sparring, her manic energy at my side, always willing to charge into the front lines… gone forever.

And Rulac… I’d always been a bit wary of him, if I was honest. There was a hidden burning intensity to him. Most of the time he presented himself as a lazy, rutting-obsessed fool, but when he’d thought it necessary, he’d stepped into the roles required of him. Beta of the swarm, warrior of vengeance against the Wolfstags, leader of the final stand. When he’d shifted into those roles, his demeanor had changed and he had emanated a dangerous feel. But when he wasn’t in those situations, he was crass and funny, supportive and light-hearted… my friend. I hadn’t let myself really think about it, but he was probably my only other friend than Oncli, and he’d died when I was a week old.

And they’d both rushed to their deaths for me.

If I’d been human, maybe I’d have wept and gathered courage in thinking of the sacrifice of my friends… but I hadn’t been human for a while now.

Instead, I found myself seething with uncontained rage. These worthless, Nievtala-forgotten, scaleless cowards had taken them from me. Now, the Moonchildren decided to levy a “test” on me to see if the swarm was allowed to live. A neutral part of me recognized that the proud khatif part of me was shouting to be heard within me, and I was letting it dictate my emotions. I decided to feed it, thinking of every injustice that had ever been done to me, every time I’d been looked down on, every loss I’d sustained, and more. Before long, I was pacing, not nervously, but with manic energy, and my swarm was picking up on my attitude. We swarmed together and were forced out by the sheer inertia of every other body pressing together, moshing all together.

Sybil’s voice in my ear almost didn’t register initially, but finally it clicked.

“Ashlani… I have an idea.”

I nodded, and found myself grinning wide as she began to detail her insane plan.