“Enjoying your exile?” asks Khub from the foot of the tree I find myself hiding in.
“How’d you find me?” I ask waking up from a nap in the treetops as I look down to confirm I am in fact talking to Khub. The glirdon are skilled in modulating their voices, and I’ve been fooled before.
“The shrine,” says Khub pointing to the various gifts that circle the tree I’m sitting in, “they make a new one whenever they find you, and that seems to happen whenever you take a nap.”
I groan and jump down from yet another discovered hiding spot, “those women are relentless. I had no idea that Mlinzi was actually downplaying the horrors of the lengths glirdon will go to in order to establish a political marriage. I rejected Lekhaka, and suddenly a line of women sent by Hawa, Shwala, and Visala have been pursuing me mercilessly. Mahana has been trying to save me, but one voice of decent does not thwart the near unanimous voice of the rest of the high court of Claw Wing Peak.”
“You know you can just hide in the embassy house. The teratolion have offered to protect you,” says Khubel chuckling to himself as I in paranoia search around me expecting yet another suitor to fling herself at me.
I wave my hands to dismiss Khub’s idea and suck on my lower lip to produce a disdainful hissing noise to show my thoughts on that idea. Khub shakes his head and says, “oh come now, Upendo has been very downtrodden that his little brother hasn’t come home for several days. He’s beside himself with regret at what he did, and mutters to himself how he’ll make up for what he’s done to you. Give the old man a break.”
“He lied to Lekhaka, and because of that lie I was forced to kill again,” I say sneering at Khub who I push to the side as I believe I saw movement behind him, “Upendo told Lekhaka that Visala changed her mind on testing my character and wanted to test my strength instead, thus leading me to actually destroy Shoron Gaol instead of merely accepting the task as a manifestation of my character. I think Upendo is in on it. I think he tried to set me up with a political marriage through the test of strength. He must have known about Lekhaka’s oath to marry the person to end her nightmares of Shoron Gaol and knew she’d try to use the law of reciprocity to lock me into a marriage, but I found a way to maintain my freedom!”
“It’s only been what three, no, four days since we got here,” says Khub shaking his head as he stares at my wild and unkempt appearance, “and those women have you talking like a mad man. Also, I thought that you wanted to gain the trust of these people to be their ambassador, so why are you avoiding something that could actually be to your benefit?”
“that…” I mutter and the logic within Khub’s comment actually makes a lot of sense. Mahana’s fears suddenly make the madness of these last few days look like a necessity that the glirdon must achieve to obtain peace of mind. Visala left on a journey to the south most peaks of Vilendura’s spine to handle a hunting grounds dispute between two villages the moment she confirmed I arrived at Claw Wing Peak. Due to Visala’s journey, the decision on whether I can be considered trusted by the glirdon and become their ambassador was postponed allowing for the barrage of suitors to be unleashed upon me. If I marry, then the glirdon have leverage over me and the demon that destroyed Shoron Gaol will have to think twice before even considering turning his power on the glirdon. I can’t fault them for their treatment of me, as though I am a hero to them, I am simultaneously their monster.
However, I must consider more than just the peace of mind of the glirdon, but the future of Nuren itself. The celandil need to end with me, Aurhea, and Argentum to fully gift the future to the races of man and protect the futures of those I love and those that will come from them. With this justification for my resistance in my heart, I say, “it is out of responsibility that I can’t marry and must be alone.”
“Why? What responsibility forces you to walk a path of miserable isolation,” asks Khub walking up to the offerings of my shrine to then select a small berry cake from my gifts that he quickly devours, “sometimes you have to think about your own happiness, damn the world and others.”
“You saw what I did at Shoron Gaol,” I say looking at my hands that faintly pulse with the memory of the guilt of crushing Gehenna’s hands. To my dismay the haunting sensation is now weak, as I’ve justified far more blood shed since the moment I wept in a sacred alley for crippling a demon. I’m walking down a path that has had me abandon the weeping pacifistic healer in the dust. Where I’m headed looks like hell to who I once was, but who I am now I… I don’t know but I hope it is the path that keeps all those left that I cherish alive.
“What of it. I’ve also left blood and death in my wake as a soldier. Sometimes there isn’t a peaceful solution and heads will roll,” says Khub shrugging his shoulders as he chooses yet another sweet from the pile of gifts, “there was no getting out of that place without someone getting hurt. Only in politics and philosophy do people feign to act like we can just talk all our problems away, but unfortunately action gets things done. Your people are safer now that Shoron Gaol and its slavers are gone. You acted and got what was needed for your people and they venerate you as a hero now because you achieved what they couldn’t. I just don’t understand you, you’re spurning a people that want to embrace you, so why walk alone?”
“I don’t think you understand,” I say turning away from Khub, “a soldier can’t take on a small army alone, but I can. Those that you call my people, they don’t venerate me, they fear me.”
Khub takes a bite out of the sweet he selected and with a mouthful of berry tart he says, “well, then prove them wrong for fearing you. Spend a few years ingratiating yourself to the glirdon and teratolion, prove you are no danger to them, marry, have a few kids, make a family…”
I interrupt Khub as soon as he says kids and family, “that’s where I’ll have to stop you. What happens if there are more of me on this world? The only person stopping me from taking everything I’d ever want or desire, is me. I walk through a world where the natural laws bow to my will, and even the strongest of humans are like thin twigs I can break between my thumb and forefinger. With a snap of my fingers, I can create riches like gold and gems from my blood. With a thought I can fill my stomach with delicacies. If I desire something that I can’t make myself, no man or woman would be able to stop me from glutting myself. However, I grew up human without the strength I have now, so I still see myself through human eyes and I’ve learned to fear me. I’ve seen what the foul ambitions of another of my kind can threaten to bring upon this world, and I’ve come to the conclusion that my kind needs to end as our existence is so disparate from the races of man that we only bring ruin through our corrupting power. I can’t make a family for this reason, as I fear the thought of what my children or even my children’s children could become and how they could be an affliction that’ll curse Nuren.”
“I personally think you’d make a good father, and I find it kind of cute how you worry about what your kid will become without even having one on the way. Generally, men only care about the making of babies then the actual nurture, care, and future of children before they become fathers,” says Khub now sitting down next to my pile of goodies to better gorge himself on its spoils, “I think every parent fears what their kid will become, much like everyone fears the future in some shape way or form. Hell, my da didn’t want me to become a soldier, but fate had other plans. As your… acquaintance, I think you should stop thinking so much and live a bit more. Rather I think you need to permit yourself to believe you have a future worth living in. I mean right now you’re living a dream for most men, enjoy it, you’re a hero and the most desired bachelor of your people.”
“I will protect them as it’ll help protect who I claim as my own, but I don’t think they actually claim me, and they shouldn’t claim me as one of their own,” I say now following Khub’s lead to dig into the pile of gifts. Khub in the short time we’ve been talking had demolished most of the sweets, so I take a piece of seasoned dried meat to munch on.
“They claim you, so you are one of their own, whether you like it or not,” says Khub ripping into a berry roll, “the way you push people away is like you’ve never been desired before, which I know isn’t true because Prorem told me that you had a lover at one point.”
“I think lover is a strong word, as we never got beyond confessing our feelings for each other and sharing kisses,” I admit feeling a tad embarrassed at sharing the details of my romantic life with Khub, “though, she did propose to me, but it just wasn’t meant to be.”
“She was Upendo’s granddaughter. You got yourself mixed up with royalty, which love, and politics rarely mix well,” says Khub with a half grin, “so that’s why none of the women cut it for you here on the peaks. They not refined enough for your tastes?”
“No, it’s not that. My heads really messed up right now,” I say answering Khub’s question with what I hope is honesty as if I can get these words out of my head maybe I’ll be able to quell the storm within it, “I hate myself, I fear the possible futures where I try to make a life for myself in it, and my heart still yearns for a woman that thinks I’m dead, and whose heart quickly turned to the first person that made her laugh and… forget me.”
“Maybe I asked the wrong question,” says Khub biting his lip as he looks conflicted with how to ask the question he needs to ask, “are you sure there aren’t any glirdon women that catch your fancy, not even the smallest smidgeon of a whisper of a romantic desire, or a glirdon that you just find attractive.”
“Not really,” I say detecting a change in Khub’s approach to our conversation, “this may sound weird, but most of the glirdon remind me of my mother. She was a tall and powerfully built woman, and I inherited nothing from her except the green of my eyes. Glirdon women remind me a lot of her, and well… I recently watched my mother die right in front of me after a demon of a man defiled her. Though, the glirdon have many attractive features, the ghost of my mother haunts me when I look at them.”
“You are a basket full of flowers aren’t you,” says Khub his face contorting into surprised exasperation, “How about Lekhaka? Did she catch your eye, even a little bit. She offered you her nightmares for yours, which has some romantic potential, don’t you think?”
“How do you know about that?” I ask as only Lekhaka and Mahana were present when Lekhaka offered me that particular exchange.
Khub lets out a sigh and mutters under his breath, “Upendo sent me on an impossible mission. Somehow, I’m supposed to play matchmaker for the hopeless.”
“What’s going on?” I growl glaring at Khub, the scars on my arms opening, responding to my emotions rather than my thoughts, to reveal boiling blood.
Khub lets out a scared gasp of air and says, “okay, maybe I should have led with this, as you seem more the objective motivated type. Visala’s back and tonight the glirdon are holding a bonfire feast in your honor, and it is expected that it will be there where you’ll be accepted as a member of the glirdon collective and become their ambassador. However, Upendo was told that you must choose a dinner companion to accompany you to the feast. The messenger made it sound like the glirdon Lekhaka has been suggested to be your companion, or you could select Ajnani and Ashe but I wouldn’t recommend them.”
“Why not?” I ask, curious as to why Khub would give me this very specific council.
Khub’s shoulders and hands rise in a nervous gesture as he says, “I don’t think you want to enter a polygamous marriage with the woman you consider a sister and her lover.”
A trap has been prepared for me. I place my head upon my hands as I sit and think, “so, the expectation was at least one glirdon caught my fancy and I’d have invited her to be my dinner companion.”
“A bonfire feast is a glirdon tradition to celebrate triumphs and announce political and personal matters to the village, high court, and highest court. One such personal announcement that can occur at a feast is to go to the feast with a dinner companion as a way to show the village that a relationship is blossoming, and if a couple dances together around the bonfire, it is to show that they have chosen to enter a bond of marriage or are currently married and reasserting their bond to the village. Visala was hoping you’d select a glirdon companion for the feast and that said companion would accept your invitation as a proposal to marry and then your companion was to convince you to dance and seal your blossoming bond with marriage,” explains Khub scratching his head as he speaks to try and focus on getting every detail within outside of himself.
“I can’t go by myself?” I ask knowing that the answer is probably no.
Khub shakes his head confirming my suspicions and says, “if you go alone, you will be assigned a dinner companion. I hope you have some affection in your heart for Lekhaka as she was hand chosen by Mahana to be your companion and wife in the case you do try to go to the bonfire feast alone.”
“I can’t not go, because I need Visala’s blessing to be accepted by the glirdon and become the ambassador for the teratolion and glirdon. I’m correct in assuming that?” I ask my mind bouncing from thought to thought as dread begins to grip my being.
Khub nods to confirm my words and says, “personally, I think Nayah is a good choice, as she’s an excellent baker. Every one of these berry pastries are so fantastic that I tend to frequent your abandoned shrines just to steal them for myself. The pastries are so delicious that I actually asked Mahana who was the baker and am now telling you that if you aren’t going to marry for love follow your gut and tongue.”
I try to think of any detail that will help me. I review Mahana’s words when she helped mediate Lekhaka’s marriage proposal, and laugh to myself as right now I’m probably the most powerful man in glirdon politics as in comparison to glirdon men who are basically lesser citizens compared to women in glirdon culture, I have the matrons trying to leash me into a marriage to better control me. Men will only ever have one vote, which makes them the same as feather lickers… Does that mean if I am accepted into glirdon culture my influence will be limited because of my gender? I wonder what my options would be if I was a woman? Would I be pursued as I am now by so many suitors, or would I have been more easily adopted into the glirdon collective?
The glirdon basically ignore their men, to the point they are invisible unless they are needed. Even Pramuk the mate of Hawa and Shwala is used as a political prop for outsiders that come from more patriarchal societies to be able to more comfortably relate to glirdon customs. Pramuk’s political influence is only as a vocal piece and status symbol for his wives in the high court, as even he only retains one vote despite the political status of his wives. Glirdon women can have multiple male and female partners, but these marriages are only considered truly equal in same sex female relationships as politically speaking men will never be equal to their partners. In fact, I don’t think from a cultural or legal perspective same sex male marriages exist within the glirdon culture, as it seems that marriages involving men are obligated to be with women for social, political and reproductive reasons.
These marital considerations lead me to believe that the marriage the matrons wish to force upon me is most likely to act to protect the glirdon not just from my wrath, but to also limit my potential political influence. I’ll only ever have one vote in their culture as a man, whereas my glirdon wife will have two to five votes depending upon her rise through the various glirdon courts. This could be Visala’s way of helping me have a political voice in glirdon society, or to silence me as my wife’s vote could cancel mine and add support to a position that I find myself opposed.
Maybe the solution isn’t to play the role that biology forces upon me in glirdon culture, but to make an announcement that is scandalous, so scandalous that it’s not an insult but makes Visala and the glirdon reconsider my position within their culture. Therefore, perhaps I need to stop thinking as I am, and instead as what I can become. I need to assert status, claim political power, and redefine what being a celandil can mean in the contexts of glirdon culture. Nature bends to my will, so biological politics will also bend to me.
A devious smile crosses my face as I reach out and touch Khub’s leg. Khub’s face flushes a deep red and I say, “how would you like to be my dinner companion?”
“You sure you’d rather not go with Choyera? I mean, I’m flattered that you’d choose me,” stutters out Khub who brings his hands close to his chest in what I’d describe as girlish embarrassment, “again, are you sure. Lekhaka is beautiful, and it sounded like you two hit it off and that she’d treat you well, and… and… I do owe you for freeing me from slavery, so if I must be your…”
“Khub what’s all this about? You are pulling my leg, right? I’m not asking you to marry me, just help me,” I say shocked at how Khub reacted to my asking him to be my dinner companion, “I’m not actually into men, if you got the wrong idea. Please tell me you were just joking around, as I’m so sorry if you got the wrong idea.”
Khub stares at his chest and then clicks his tongue, “right, I’m a dude. I’m Khub not Bel right now… Yeah, I was just yanking your chain, just making a joke in bad taste, like you made a joke in bad taste. Yeah, I’ll help you, I’ll be your dinner companion, sure. You saved my life, so I owe you one.”
“Thank you, and just think of my inviting you to dinner tonight as a blossoming of our friendship,” I say trying to find some justification for making my joke gone wrong less awkward, “I have a plan, and I require a man to make a statement. Marriages involving men in glirdon custom are seen as a status symbol and a method of climbing the ranks of the various glirdon courts. What I desire is to redefine what I am, and who I am to the glirdon, and in doing so alter my fate. Do you trust me?”
“I sure hope your gamble doesn’t backfire,” says Khub covering his face with his hand, “who knows how the glirdon will interpret you claiming status that is only given to their women. What we will do is a flagrant insult to their culture.”
“I promise if everything goes wrong I’ll protect you, but I need you to promise me that you’ll not force me dance,” I say punching Khub’s shoulder to change the tone of our conversation from the serious implications of what could happen tonight to something more light hearted, “so help me, you better not force me to dance tonight.”
Khub rubs his shoulder and chuckles as he says, “maybe I will, it’ll help sell the act.”
“Otatadzi” I say glaring at Khub with a half-smile on my face.
“Screw you too,” says Khub returning my punch to his shoulder with a punch to mine.
Day turned to night, and my self-imposed exile from the embassy house came to an end as teratolion servants insisted on helping me get ready for the bonfire feast. As I sit in an underground room, I find myself unable to sit still. Unlike the confidence I had to charge down to Shoron Gaol without a second thought, I’m terrified of tonight. As I think about the scandal I wish to perpetrate to save myself, I find my thoughts wandering toward compliance rather than resistance. I don’t want to get married, but I need the blessing of Visala to create the bastion of peace promised to me by Upendo that’ll serve as a bulwark against Aurhea’s destruction. Maybe I should just get married and avoid creating a horrible diplomatic incident. I can make sure that the marriage is loveless and just political so that way I don’t produce another godling that could mess up the world like Aurhea and I are currently messing up the world. Who knows maybe Lekhaka would be okay with a purely platonic relationship that’ll never result in her progressing to the mother court.
“It’s time,” says Khub wearing his father’s armor, vibrant animal skin cape, and skull pauldron from the doorway of the room I was taken to be prepared for tonight’s feast, “you look hilarious by the way.”
I look down at the gaudy feathered poncho I was given by the glirdon and expected to wear for tonight’s festivities. Apparently each glirdon of the village of Claw Wing Peak and the glirdon of several surrounding villages donated their longest head feather to make this poncho to honor me, but because the poncho is created from so many different colored feathers I look like a rainbow vomited all over me. I should feel honored by the gift, but given that tonight was also going to be a honey trap to get me forced into an unwanted marriage, the sentiment behind the gift is somewhat lost on me, “I want to curse at you right now, but… dear, dear, dear… boar shit… dearest Khubi… that sounds stupid… KhuKhu… maybe I should just copy Ajnani and go with Chickadee as that sounds culturally relevant…”
Khub rolls his eyes walks up to my side and grabs my hand, “Khu is fine, and I’ll just call you… darling!”
“Nope, I can’t do this,” I say letting go of Khub’s hand, “You were right that a political marriage would be beneficial for my goals. I have the whole world on my back and loved ones that are depending on me to just do what is needed of me. I’ll just marry Lekhaka. There are worse fates that could happen to me.”
Khub grabs my hand again and says, “your stuck with me now. No feathered whore is stealing my man.”
I look at Khub and he’s blushing again which betrays the confident smile on his face. When I look him in his blue eyes, he looks away and says, “for some reason it is important to you to be single right now, and as I said sometimes you have to choose you damn the world and others. You’ve clearly gone through more than some experience in a lifetime and are still healing. I can’t just throw a friend to the wolves.”
“You said choose happiness not you,” I say wondering why Khub changed the wording of his advice.
Khub brushes some of his hair out of his face with his free hand and says, “it’s okay to be selfish, it’s okay to have desires, it’s okay to pursue what you want. Give yourself permission tonight to not be a slave to your anxieties, fears, and the expectations that weigh upon you. Take what you truly want, and I’ll support you as your… friend.”
“Alright Khu, you win,” I say and absentmindedly grasp Khub’s hand tighter. Khub drops my hand and walks off in a corner of the room.
“Your right we can’t do this,” says Khub pounding a fist into the stone wall of the room, “I may be a decent actor, but…”
“But what?” I ask confused as too why Khub would talk a big game only to back out moments later.
Khub then bursts out laughing and says, “you clearly have no experience with romance, do you? That was kind of sadly pathetic in a cute way.”
“Otatadzi!” I curse, my tongue being liberated over the last few days as I practiced speaking Tackian with Cran to pass the time. Forcing myself to accustom myself to what I perceive as vulgarity, but is technically just a mundane fluke of a modern language, has lessened my father’s influence on my mind as I speak words he’d have smacked the back of my head for.
“Otatadyi?” asks Khub with a flirty smile on his lips, which oddly the way he spoke that word disarms my anger toward him and fills me with a strange confusion.
“The way you said that and changed the direct object pronoun from zi to yi changes the meaning significantly to what you just said,” I say blushing as I explain a crucial mistake that Khub made in conjugating and modifying the verb otatan.
“Why the sudden scholastic insistence on how I chose to curse,” chuckles Khub shaking his head, “I know what I said.”
“Do you?” I say raising an incredulous eyebrow, “Otatad is the conjugation of indeterminate subject of the verb otatan, and yi is the direct object pronoun for ‘me,’ you should have used zi for ‘you’ instead. Then the way you spoke the word changed the meaning entirely. I said, ‘otatadzi!’ which translates to basically a stronger version of the curse screw you, but the way you said, ‘otatadyi?’ well, that basically was asking me the question… ‘make love to me?’ Even if you added proper emphasis on the word and said ‘otatadyi!’ basically saying it that way is a stronger version of ‘screw me,’ a phrase of expressed exasperation, frustration with oneself or one’s situation, and so on.”
“I didn’t need a grammar lesson, and why did you feel it was necessary?” asks Khub still laughing at my flustered state.
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“For a celandil language is incredibly important!” I say pointing to the scars on my arms that are the written spells that I rely upon to enact my soulcraft, “when a celandil uses the processes of inscription to practice soulcraft… I mean, when a warlock… god… I don’t know… anyway when I or any of my kind write our spells we must be very specific or else a spell may have drastically different manifestations than what we intended. Granted, a celandil’s soul does pull some weight in interpreting what we desire, and sometimes generalities in the language we use can give some leeway in weakening or strengthening a spell depending upon our souls interpretation of our emotions and desires in the moment we evoke a spell’s power, but specificity is paramount that we don’t accidentally make a rock rise like a loaf of bread rises versus the intended purpose of the spell of making a rock rise off of the ground, if that makes sense.”
“Alright… hahahaha… Alright… hahahaha,” laughs Khub at my serious discussion of the linguistic importance required in inscription-based soulcraft techniques, “Otatadzi! Hahahaha… Otatadzi! Hahahaha…”
“Screw you to…” I grumble as I walk up to Khub and grab his hand, “let’s get this over with.”
Khub and I walk through the various tunnel corridors of the embassy house and leave through its front door, where we find Cran in his tree form waiting for us. Cran transforms back into a staff and floats up to me, “do you wish for me to accompany you on your date?”
“It’s not a date, if anything its kind of the opposite,” I say taking Cran into my free hand, “and I may need your essence for what I wish to accomplish. I have at least seventeen spells going down the skin covering the vertebrae of my spine that can fully refill all of my spells and body with blood and essence, but the last time I did what I plan to do it left me weak, void of essence in my body and the inscribed spells on my skin, and extremely vulnerable. That might have been because of my accidental separation of all the dream in my body outside of myself temporarily damaging my soul, but I wish to be careful rather than sorry.”
Cran accepts my grasp and shakes in my hand to tell me that he’ll help me. Now that my team has been assembled, we scale the mountain. However, I find myself becoming impatient hiking at a human pace and a devilish idea crosses my mind. If I am to sell my supposed relationship to Khub, then I might as well make a spectacle of my entrance.
I let go of Khub’s hand and Cran. I then scoop Khub into my arms and leap into the sky with Cran floating alongside us. Khub screams a surprisingly high pitched and shrill scream as he panics and grabs onto me as we travel through the air. I adjust Khub in my arms now that he has a firm grip on me and I free one of my arms to grab onto Cran who slows our decent. Now that we are traveling at a more moderate pace than my original bound, Khub regains his composure and looks out at the darkness shrouded mountain in a hushed amazement. The mountain looks like a dark shadowy hand reaching up toward the moon, and in its palm is an enormous fire that rages with smaller shadows that sit and dance around it. As we grow closer to the glirdon village, we begin to hear the singing and music of the glirdon as they celebrate below us.
I aim Khub, Cran and I toward the village and with a cheeky confidence fostered by the freeing feeling of soaring through the air and relenting to the temptation of using soulcraft I choose to land where I assume only one person can. My feet touch down upon the top of the central tower that defies the winds and elements with Cran and Khub in my hands and arms, and the music stops. I then jump down from the tower directly in front of where Visala, Mlinzi and Upendo were sitting with the large bonfire that Khub, Cran and I saw from the sky being directly behind us. Visala sits on a carpet of feathers with whom I presume are her four husbands or mates may be a better term for them. Mlinzi and Upendo also sit upon carpets of feathers but they both sit alone upon their own carpet and do not share the space with anyone else.
“Visala, I’ve come with my companion as you requested,” I say feeling my heart speed up in my chest as the time has come to initiate my gamble.
“What is the meaning of this,” says Visala in the Tackian dialect, pointing to Khub who is still clinging to me from our surprise journey through the skies. I brace Khub close to my chest to try and sell the bond of our fake relationship.
“What do you mean?” I ask putting Khub down to grasp Cran tighter within my grasp, “I am to join glirdon society, but my chosen presenting gender prevents me from truly joining your people.”
Visala looks me up and down humored by my response and says, “so you take a man as a mate, to what? Pretend to be a woman and join the mother court? Impossible! What is between your legs cannot lay eggs, you forget that it is necessary to incubate an egg to join the mother court, so why bring a man when I offer you any of our women to be your spokeswoman for us. I am offering you privileges beyond what men generally obtain within our culture, but you want more?”
“That’s where you’d be mistaken,” I say bracing myself for what is to come, as it’s going to hurt. I focus upon an image of my mother within my mind, and my body begins to explode with growing pains. My hair lengthens, my muscles wriggle within my flesh, my bones burn as they adjust their lengths, the fat within my body slithers to new configurations, and my masculine anatomy retreats within my body and transforms into what could be considered its default configuration.
I clasp onto Cran and puncture my finger with the sharp thorny branch that we use to exchange essence with one another to receive an infusion of essence within my new feminine form. To my surprise I didn’t need Cran’s essence as a spell upon my shoulder blade opposite the shoulder blade that has the spell to evoke Dargot’s rage inscribed on it had supplied the essence and blood to make my feminine transformation possible. I shake my head as somehow after I transformed my body from Aeramen into Skath my subconscious mind or soul had inscribed a spell for bodily metamorphosis upon my skin without me even realizing it. I swear the essence reservoir I’ve accidentally made on my flesh is becoming more like Cran and less like my father’s sword, or grandfather’s gloves the more time passes. The spells on my skin react and grow without my deliberate cognitive input, which isn’t characteristic of essence reservoirs that must be acted upon to be used to full effect.
I shake my head again as exploring thoughts about my essence reservoir isn’t as important as what I am facing now. I take deep breaths using all the strength I have to keep myself standing and stare down Visala as I point to my new body and say with a voice that has altered itself to coincide with my new visage, “you were saying what was between my legs couldn’t create an egg, but I don’t think that’ll be a problem. I am not a human nor a glirdon, so your perceptions and laws regarding biological privilege do not apply to me as they apply to you. Thus, I ask humbly for you to consider my wish to be accepted into your system of courts, as I can be whatever your culture and laws demand to rise and truly be a part of your people. All I ask is for the chance to be a part of your culture, I do not ask for a promotion, just the privilege to truly be a part of the glirdon which I perceive as impossible if I am considered as just a man.”
Visala gets up from her feathery carpet and walks up to me. Khub takes a few steps backward, as he wasn’t privy to the full extent of my plans and the shock of my transformation and Visala’s overwhelming presence must have frightened him as she is an incredibly threatening woman who possesses an imposing height and build that would make even Gehena feel small and weak in her presence. Visala then kneels before me pointing at my hips and says, “I require proof. You may look like a woman but looks often deceive. Many Glirdon spies alter their appearances with costumes, but flesh doesn’t lie.”
“Check away,” I say taking another deep breath to brace for the humiliation implied by Visala’s test.
Visala grabs my hand and pulls me away to the nearest hut. Once we were in the hut’s privacy Visala kneels down again and looks up to me and says, “I’ll have you killed if what is under your poncho isn’t an egg layer. You have one last chance to renege your insulting seizure of privileges that your gender doesn’t afford you here in the glirdon collective. I’ll allow you to use your destruction of Shoron Gaol within the laws of reciprocity to obtain forgiveness for your offenses against my people, culture, and our laws, only if you pull out of this ridiculous stunt.”
“I accept the terms,” I say taking a wider stance and closing my eyes to help steel myself for what is to come, “now behold your proof.”
I lift the skirt of the poncho and lower my under garments to let Visala behold the proof she desires. Visala’s eyes grow wide as her eyes look at me and then my newly formed womanhood. Visala covers her mouth as she takes a closer look and whispers in defeat, “there’s no sausage. Where’s the sausage. That’s an egg layer! Can gods truly choose to be a man or a woman?”
Visala gets up from where she knelt and walks past me and yells in disbelief, “There’s no sausage!” and then whistles probably the same message.
I pull up my undergarments and lower the skirt of the poncho. I clasp my face with my hand and thank Angtos for teaching me about anatomy, as without his medical knowledge that he passed onto me, I doubt I’d have been able to pull this off. I’m shaking, humiliated, and wondering if avoiding marriage was truly worth all I’ve done tonight. I should have just accepted Lekhaka as my wife and been done with it. Gathering what little of my pride and wits that I have left, I leave the hut, and the singing once again commences.
I walk toward the bonfire where glirdon dance and sing gleefully. Oddly, most if not all the glirdon have deflated and folded down their fins. I guess the bonfire is why they’d rid their themselves of as much excess hydrogen from their bodies as possible to prevent a happy and joyous event from turning into an explosive tragedy.
Visala stands in front of the bonfire and waves to me to join her in front of the bonfire. I comply as it’s the only thing my brain feels like it is capable of doing at the moment. I walk toward Visala and stand in front of her. Visala looks down at me then to all of the glirdon around her and then extends her arms upward which lowers her extended fins behind her in a way that her fins remind me of the large sleeves of Mul’Rensi’s thawb. When Visala’s hands rise above her head the singing once again stops. Visala lowers her hands and gestures toward Mahana who joins us in front of the bonfire. Visala speaks in the private tongue to Mahana and then addresses the rest of the glirdon in the public tongue of the glirdon.
Visala whistles and Mahana translates for me, “I Visala the highest matron of all the glirdon collective have gravely insulted our hero. For this I wish to solemnly consider his… her petition. Though the godling isn’t a glirdon, she has more than proven herself worthy of joining with us not as an honorary member of our citizenry but as a member of the high court for her extraordinary acts of courage that have secured these mountains as a haven for our people, freeing us from the fears that have plagued us for far too long. Thus, I ask the village of Claw Wing Peak if they’ll accept her as the newest member of their high court.”
Visala pulls an immense fan from the back of her feathered poncho and points with it as she approaches every glirdon that surrounds the bonfire. Each glirdon Visala points to with her fan speaks a word in the private tongue to Visala, and Visala appears to be in deep thought as she collects the vote. I almost expected Visala to pass over Upendo and Mlinzi, but she points her fan to them as well. Mlinzi nods his head to Visala casting his vote, and Upendo clasping his muzzle to prevent himself from bursting out laughing also nods his head to cast his vote.
Visala once again raises her hands and whistles, and Mahana translates, “It is unanimous, that we accept our hero as our sister and as a member of the high court of Claw Wing Peak!”
The crowd breaks into song instead of cheers, and Mahana ushers me to a feathered blanket where Khub sits as he stares around himself nervously trying to figure out whether we’re dead or not. Mahana whispers to us before returning to where she sat, “you surprise me, and welcome sister to my family.”
“So, uhhh sausage is not on the menu tonight, huh?” says Khub watching Mahana walk away, “I’m actually partial to the spiced yet sweet flavor of the deer sausage that the glirdon make, so I’m kind of disappointed there won’t be any.”
“That’s not what all that was about,” I say shaking my head only to have my face covered in my newly lengthened hair.
I spit and sputter and Khub helps me tie my hair back while saying, “I know. I was just trying to make light of something that must have been terrifying and humiliating. Are you all right?”
“I feel violated, but the worst is behind me. It could have been worse, so much worse, but Visala got her peak and was content,” I say crossing my arms over my hips, “there was actually a moment, where our lives were on the line, and I’m sorry I dragged you into this.”
“So, were you always a woman?” asks Khub looking me up and down, “I mean the world is a dangerous place and there are certain things that a man will never have to fear, that a woman would.”
“You’re not the first to say that to me,” I say adjusting myself as I’m still not entirely used to my new body, “but to answer your question, no. Through magic I can transform my body, but my mind remains the same. My body may have transformed into a woman, but my mind is still that of a man. And just between two men, I’m missing my dick right now as I prefer that dangling between my legs to having these sacks hanging on my chest.”
“Of course, a man would make them big,” mutters Khub rolling his eyes as he looks at my new body which makes me blush, “You could have made them smaller; I mean not all women are well endowed.”
“I chose to base my current appearance on my mother, and a few diagrams and models my grandfather used to teach me medicine, anatomy, biology… uhhh… science. It’s not like I wanted my body to be like this, as this is just what my mother looked like,” I say bringing an arm up to my chest to shield it from Khub’s view, “can you stop staring at me, it’s like you’re leering at my mom, but me at the same time.”
Khub covers his face and says, “I’m sorry, just getting used to the new you, and honestly I think I prefer the old you to the new.”
Khub’s words catch me off guard and I find myself uncontrollably articulating the question Khub’s words create within me, “what?”
“I mean, ummm. Don’t get me wrong, if you look like your mother right now she’s definitely a beautiful woman and all, but I’m used to… you,” says Khub tumbling over his words as he searches for the ideas to explain himself. Khub looks away biting his lip to collect himself and then looks back at me with a sly smile and says, “I mean, wouldn’t you feel uncomfortable sitting next to a woman who’s hotter than fire, knowing that within her head is an ugly… and I mean ugly… son of a… well considering I’m looking at a semblance of your mother, bitch may not be the right word.”
“Otatadyi!” I mutter to myself defeated at how Khub masterfully found a way to insult me, and compliment my mother in a way that added to his jape at my expense.
“Don’t you mean zi?” says Khub jabbing me in the ribs with his elbow.
“I know what I said,” I say frowning as I stare at the dancing and singing glirdon who prance around the bonfire in front of us.
“So did I,” mutters Khub under his breath with a look upon his face that I don’t know how to interpret. Khub looks into the bonfire with a mysterious smile on his face as if searching the fire for something that he doesn’t currently have.
I let out a long-exasperated sigh and say, “I don’t care anymore. If I need to transform back I will, but I really don’t like this body, it’s filled with bad memories old and new.”
A scar on my spine opens releasing the essence and blood necessary to recharge the new spell upon my shoulder to complete another transformation. I close my eyes and endure the pain and discomfort of my body remolding itself back into Skath and not some amalgamation that vaguely looks like my mother. Once the transformation completes, I see that Khub is looking at me again. When I return his gaze, he shakes his head and stares back at the bonfire and begins to play with his hair as he focuses on the flames.
Before I can address Khub’s odd behavior, I hear Upendo yell in the Teratolion tongue as he gets up from where he sat. Upendo extends his hands upward, much like how Visala held her hands above her head, but instead of being empty handed like Visala, Upendo holds a scale and a set of weights. The scale is the same one that Lekhaka used to barter with me to marry her, and instead received my friendship as a consolation.
Upendo’s outburst causes Visala to rise up from where she sat, and both Upendo and Visala walk over to where Khub and I are sitting and place the scales in front of me so that I sit in an intermediary position between Upendo and Visala. Upendo and Visala stare each other down and then sit across from each other behind opposing pans of the scale.
“Visala, I call upon you to honor the laws of reciprocity,” says Upendo in the Tackian dialect for both Visala and I to be able to participate in the conversation.
Visala bows her head and says, “I agree. What has been received isn’t sufficient for what has been given. I also acknowledge that I’ve committed a severe offense against Skath in having her… him… them prove themselves to me in an act of great distrust that simultaneously hearkens to the awful invasive appraisals many of my people have had to endure at the hands of slavers. This sort of insult is grave and must be restituted for the violation I’ve afflicted upon… them.”
“It’s good that we have an understanding then,” says Upendo adding two small weights to the both sides of the scale to keep it in balance, “and I feel it apt to start with saying that your apology and how you permitted Skath to become part of the high court is sufficient penance for the insult you forced my bro… sister to endure.”
Upendo gives me a confident smile and whispers to me, “I now unveil my hand and hope that it will atone for my sins against you.”
Visala places a large weight onto Upendo’s side of the scale, “this weight represents Shoron Gaol’s destruction and the peace and safety my people will enjoy now that the slavers rest in a watery grave. Many of both my, and your people were rescued by Skath, and now sing the songs of joyous freedom to the winds that carry the whispers of our ancestors. I cannot put stipulations on what can be asked for what has been given. What is desired?”
“You’re forgetting that I placed insurance down upon the destruction of Shoron Gaol,” says Upendo taking several weights from the set into his hand and Visala nods her head acknowledging and accepting his claim.
“First, I gave you the sister of my sister, as insurance that Skath would perform the task,” says Upendo placing a small weight upon the scale next to the large one Visala had placed on the scale.
“Second, I placed my brother, a general in my armies and someone who could be considered a prince and heir to my kingdom into your custody as further insurance of the destruction of Shoron Gaol,” says Upendo placing a larger weight next to the growing collection of weights on his side of the scale.
“Third, I gave you myself, the king of the Western Mountain Hall, as a third piece of insurance that Skath would destroy Shoron Gaol,” says Upendo placing a weight of similar size to the one representing Mlinzi on the scale.
“Finally, because I gave you myself, I simultaneously gambled my kingdom as I’d serve as the leverage for you to do whatever you could wish with my kingdom, even place yourself upon my throne, as a final piece of insurance for Skath’s completion of the task you asked for,” announces Upendo and he places a weight of greater size to the weight representing the destruction of Shoron Gaol upon the scale. The weight upon Upendo’s pan long before he placed this final weight upon the scale was resting on the ground. The overburdened pan on Upendo’s side of the scale versus the lone small weight on Visala’s side demonstrate the sheer power Upendo has over the glirdon in this moment.
“You’ve played the game well,” says Visala staring at the vast disparity present on the scale with a slight grin on her face, “I thought you were merely playing a part in my play, but I was the fool in your court.”
Upendo places a small weight on Visala’s side of the scale and says, “I apologize for my ruse, but I see a future in Skath that was denied in our collective past. I look to the past, and in it’s lessons I see a future that was denied as all our peoples failed to recognize what we could have had.”
Upendo turns to me and says, “this is my apology.”
Upendo then grabs the largest weight of the set and places it on Visala’s side of the scale which brings the scale surprisingly into balance, “I wish to not only resurrect but to strengthen an ancient and failed alliance. I speak of the Turian Accord! The same accord that Skath’s father forged between the glirdon, teratolion, and dracaquan through years of service in hopes that we’d assist in his efforts to save his people. The accord created an agreement of cooperation to help Turas and his people escape this continent to find land where he and his people would be safe from human persecution, and in that agreement we briefly found a source of unity between our peoples. Unfortunately, due to totalion interference, the accord failed, and Turas’s people were delivered to the hands of their enemies. I propose that we correct the mistakes of our past, as it was the weakness of the accord that led to its failure. I propose that, instead of an accord that provided us with a pitifully flimsy alliance, we strengthen the Turian Accord by creating the Skathan Federation!”
Visala stares at the scales and back to Upendo and says, “and what, dissolve our governments to bow down to who, you?”
“No such thing will happen,” says Upendo shaking his head, “We will establish a central government that will act as a leading body over the current governments we already have. I will still be king of the western mountain hall, and you the highest matron, however, the new government will supersede us. Within this new government our current leaders like you and I will act as representatives that will serve under an elected regent that we will elect as our collective leader and who we will grant a portion of our powers as leaders of our peoples. I choose to delegate a portion of my power as king to Skath and thus elect him as First Regent of the Skathan Federation and with this delegation he’ll possess power similar to my own and be able to act as if his voice is my voice. If he wishes to permit others into the federation, I acknowledge his authority to do so. Our federation will function a lot like how the Black City of Wakuda functions for humanity, but instead of the pitiful confederation that gives Wakuda ceremonial power and status only, our federation’s union will have the final word when it comes to matters between member nations.”
“What happens if another member nation joins us,” says Visala entertaining Upendo’s idea, probably not because she likes it but is obligated by her laws to consider his proposal, “I assume in matters that concern relations between multiple nations that this new central government has to legislate and judge these matters, and as such that our leaders will vote upon these matters. Say the dracaquan of the western waters join us, and their president becomes a member of this new… I guess central council is the best term for this government you propose. What happens if the council’s vote is split evenly in a crucial decision?”
“We grant the regent the tie breaker, or we attempt to always maintain an odd number of members,” says Upendo shrugging his shoulders to continue his pitch, “the details can be worked out between us as we continue forward with this new relationship between our peoples. In certain regards, not much will change for us, as we will continue to govern as we always have, but in terms of national relations we will have methods to achieve solutions peacefully instead of through war and conflict. I see the federation as a way for our peoples to sprint toward a brighter more peaceful future, when we’ve merely wandered in our divisions for generations. Think of the trade of goods and ideas, think of the peace.”
“What power will this central government have over us then,” says Visala with a huff, “I have my armies and you have yours, whereas this central council will have nothing to enforce its will.”
“I’ve chosen Skath for this reason as he will serve as the power of the central council, well at least at first. Skath is an army unto himself as evidenced by the destruction of Shoron Gaol, and can serve as a threat to those seeking to rebel against the sacred bonds of trust of being a part of the federation which is why he is the perfect candidate for the first regent of the Skathan Federation,” says Upendo bearing his fangs to Visala, “though, I plan on this being only a preemptive measure to ensure compliance of member nations to the federation. I propose that the central government will have lands that will be set apart from all member kingdoms and nations. In addition, I see it as a necessity that nations that are members of the federation will pay a membership tax in the form of a portion of their armies being relinquished to the central government and for said dedicated soldiers and their families to be relocated to the shared lands of the Skathan Federation to give the central government legitimacy with military might. After a few generations the shared lands will be considered a blended nation unto themselves, which will dissuade internal rebellion of the mixed people the Skathan Federation capitol will create.”
“Where will this shared land be?” asks Visala as she picks up a weight from the set and toys with it in her hand, “your lands are underground, and mine above in these mountains, neither of us truly has a place of neutrality, so what land do you give and what land do you expect.”
“My kingdom has come into strained but peaceful relations with a human colony in a secluded valley known as Unadeam,” says Upendo taking a weight from the set and placing it on his side of the scale, “Unadeam is the birthplace of Skath and his aunt is a leader there who was in all but blood the mother of my granddaughter. I believe with her assistance that the lands of Unadeam may be the perfect location for the shared lands between us and provide us with experience in creating at least functional relationships with humans as I believe one day humans will join our federation. In addition, the hidden nature of Unadeam will provide us an opportunity to hide our growing alliances that may elicit fear from today’s enemies that may become tomorrow’s friends. At least to start, I propose that the valley of Unadeam will become the heart of the Skathan Federation.”
Visala nods her head and grunts to herself as she ponders Upendo’s desires and then turns to me. Visala plucks the weight representing Shoron Gaol off of the scale and hands it to me and says, “little… sibling, you were the destroyer of Shoron Gaol, and so I ask you if this is what you want. I’ve entertained Upendo’s schemes, and now I ask if you wish to become a part of them, as you look more surprised than I at Upendo’s desires.”
I chuckle to myself in my sheer discomfort with the situation I’ve found myself dragged into. Upendo within a few moments changed my position as a brother and servile ambassador into that of basically a king. I’m not a god, nor a ruler, nor really a person that has the skills to lead or am I deserving of the respect to be followed. To buy myself some time to think I say, “this appears to be a decision much larger than you can make as the highest matron. Shouldn’t all the matrons be gathered for a vote before accepting or rejecting such a sweeping proposal.”
“The laws of reciprocity force our voices to be unanimous,” responds Visala pointing to the scales, “what has been given has been given to my people as a whole, and therefore we are constrained to the wills of both you and Upendo to restitute what we owe. No vote is required as the scales speak for us all.”
“Sister, I need to ask you a question and do not answer me in accordance with the will of the scales,” I say chucking the weight representing Shoron Gaol into the bonfire as I stare into Visala’s eyes, “would you relinquish a portion of your power to me of your own accord. I know that Upendo would and has, but the only thing I’ve done for you and your people is be your destroyer, not a hero but your monster. We’ve known each other for barely any time at all, and now Upendo wants you to promote me to become essentially your equal if not more than your equal. What I desire is not to obligate you or your people into a relationship that you’d reject if you were able. If this federation that Upendo proposes is to succeed then I wish for you to join us in friendship and not coercion. I release you from the bonds of reciprocity and beg Upendo as his brother to release you as well. This decision should be yours and not the scales.”
Visala places her hand upon her fist and grins in response to my words. Upendo looks to me with an understanding nod and removes the weights from the scale letting it sit balanced and empty between Visala and himself. I bow my head knowing that Upendo was trying to help me and that all he did was to create a path toward a more secure future, but this shouldn’t be the way to forge a bond of true peace. Obligation will only breed resentment, and resentment eats and destroys bonds thus creating the rot that will create a horrid repetition of the past. The federation will fail if created through the scales.
Clattering interrupts my thoughts, and I see Visala’s hand extended outward and the scales bouncing along the ground toward the bonfire where I had tossed the representation of my supposed leverage over the glirdon. Visala rises to her feet and whistles to the glirdon. She whistles and whistles for quite some time and I watch as glirdon nod their heads as they listen to Visala. Visala then turns back to me, sits down, adjusts how she sits to rest her body upon her knees, and then she bows to me.
In astonished befuddlement my tongue finds words uttered to me several times by my betters and I say, “sister, you do not bow to family.”
I reach out my hand to gently lift Visala’s head from the ground. Visala shakes her head as she forces herself to remain bowed down to me, and I see that in response to Visala’s submission the rest of the glirdon have copied her lead. Visala lifts herself up and grabs her fan as she points the fan at each glirdon one by one. When she finishes her sweeping gesture, she says, “There is your vote, hero of the glirdon, our new sibling, and now our trusted regent. Unlike me, you respected our autonomy when we owed you an immense debt rightfully enslaving us to you. Instead of taking advantage of your power over us, you wished to join us and in turn also freed us, and in our freedom we choose to give you our trust. Lead us toward freedom, lead us toward peace, lead us toward the future and may the winds that whisper with the voices of our ancestors ever guide you!”