I couldn’t get my mother's words out of my head. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that she was right. No matter what, Mibata was always trailing behind. The only exception would be our recent isolation, when he wouldn’t even read what I had to say. I couldn’t blame him for that though. He was trying to keep everything going when no one else was around, and the two siblings he knew were alive had been injured.

So I decided, as I lay in my bed on this sleepless night, that I would pass my writing slate over to him with my words written on it.

“Talk to me.”

The slate came back, and a part of my soul withered.

“No.”

“Please.”

The slate came back unchanged. I knocked on the wall, but there came no reply.

I’ll try again tomorrow.

…

I woke up the next day, but Mibata wasn’t there. In fact, nobody was home except me and Yabtin.

“Morning kid. Welcome to living world.You sleep long time.”

I didn’t know if uncle Yabtin was literate or not, but it wouldn't hurt to try.

“Where is everyone?”

Luckily, it seemed he could read, albeit very slowly.

“Uh… oh. They gone to Tuleni. Humey burn need salve, Mibata arm not fix yet, and Tokols head hurt more. Need check bone for breaks.”

Off to the doctor’s, I guess. Why didn’t they wake me? My leg’s still screwed up, and if she’s got more magic herbs like last time I’d take them. Maybe I was too deep into sleep and they couldn’t get me to stir. That could be it. I used my slate to ask Yabs.

“Why not take me? I’m injured too.”

“I dunno. Not tell me why, just go before you wake.”

It would probably be best not to overthink this. I hobbled back to the dorm and sat in the communal bed pit. I had to keep repeating to myself: Don’t overthink, it’s not like that. No, I had to find something to take my mind off of those thoughts. Something I knew, something that would keep my full focus.

Schematics could help alleviate my stress. Until I knew what kind of “blessing” the shrine had given me, I had to assume that I was limited to mechanical means for creating spells. Not that I would trust whatever power was given by a god that ate its own worshipers and forcibly prodded at souls for amusement. The less of that I had to deal with, the better off I would be.

My first idea was to make some kind of rifle, but I realized that I didn’t have the means to create any of the parts. It also wouldn’t be much of a surprise for this world. In the history book that covered naval warfare they mentioned that cannons and flintlocks were already commonplace. Apparently, break action weaponry was big in this world, so making a double barrel shot-gun was already taken. The book also mentioned that warding spells had been made specifically to combat firearms, and the knowledge was pretty widely available. As much as I would love to put a shell full of buckshot through one of the elders, it was highly possible that they had these wards on them.

My second idea was to make a high pressure steam gun, or a portable water saw. This idea was scrapped because that would require a LOT of water to be usable long term, and I was only one little lizard. If I ever made some kind of steam powered vehicle I could probably just make one that hooked to the boiler, but I didn’t have a choo-choo train on hand right now.

Alright, third time’s the charm. How about a spear gun? No, just another projectile that these wards could block. Flamethrower? Definitely not, Juaki told me of how dangerous underground fires could be, and suffocating is not in my agenda. Laser rifle? Yeah, i’ll just put that right next to my spaceship and quantum computer ideas, you know, for when I get around to them. Ugh, this is why I didn’t get an engineering degree.

This brainstorming session has had the opposite effect that I wanted, and has just made me more stressed out. My slate was a mess of drawing and squiggles that even I didn’t understand, and just looking at it made me see red. I was a heartbeat away from throwing it across the room before my arm seized, preventing me from hurling the wooden slab. This was a gift from my brothers. It would break their hearts if I broke it.

Okay, calm down and try something else. How about we do some logical deductions, maybe try and figure out some sort of connection between all of these strange events that keep happening. The altar, the cage, my suffering, all of them had one unifying factor: The Elders. Ever since I hatched they’ve been moving in the shadows, trying to make their play to get something. But what? I didn’t really have some divine knowledge or amazing powers, I was just a little different. Were they afraid of me? If so, they could have just iced me when I was young and lied that I really was possessed, and mom would have been none the wiser. She already had the kids she wanted, I was disposable*-* No, get out of that mindset right the fuck now!

Damn it, damn it, damn it, DAMN IT! My blood was ice in my veins, my hands shaking and my vision blurring from the tears. Every breath caught in my throat, and it took every ounce of willpower to keep from losing control. Just gotta tell myself that I'm a burden. No, I’m going to get them all killed. Why can’t I just disappear?

“Kayrux!”

No, this wasn’t me, I’m not like that! I can do better, I just need to leave. I can’t breathe. Oh God, I feel so cold.

“Kayrux, stop!”

Somebody, please, kill me.

My face rang out in pain as a clawed hand slapped me. My breath hitched in my throat, and reality seemed to come back into focus. Tokols. He had one of my wrists in his hand, while the other moved back to ready for another hit. Heat radiated from the impact site, and I could feel some kind of pressure on my mind relent.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

“Kay, please stop.”

Tears were openly streaming down his face, but that wasn’t a look of sadness, it was terror. I looked at my hand that he held bound and saw blood dripping from my black claws, and a few sapphire colored scales clinging to my fingers. I followed the dull sensation of pain, only to find my left arm had been torn open at the elbow in three long gashes, and a pile of discarded or broken scales lying on my lap. As my senses sharpened, I began to feel the soreness in both arms and an ache in my chest caused by clenched muscles.

It took a little while, but eventually I was able to start breathing normally. Tok wouldn’t let go of my hand, nor would he look away. His pumpkin colored eyes wouldn’t deviate from me, even as I regained my composure and reached for the slate. His other hand shot out and grabbed my other wrist before I could make it. His look of fear and concern flashed into anger as he moved, but relaxed into a more neutral expression before he spoke.

“No. I ask questions, you nod your head. Got it?”

I nodded. His voice was so tense, and it was unlike him to be forceful or even hit me.

“Were you hurting yourself intentionally?”

The evidence was all there, but I had no recollection of willingly doing it. I shook my head.

“Was there magic involved?”

No. Whatever was happening, it didn’t make my scales stand on end like they do whenever one of the elders stare at me, so whatever that was it was all in my head.

“Did you know you were doing it?”

I was locked inside my own mind the entire time, and I couldn’t even feel that I was trying to tear an arm off, so that’s another no.

“Are you here now?”

I am, and I'm so thankful that you pulled me out of that place..

“Will you be okay if I leave to get bandages?”

Yeah, I'll be fine. His hands released me, and he was quickly out the door and back again with the necessary supplies. His hands were a blur as he plucked broken and loose scales from my ragged wounds. Even though he was working at a blistering speed he was careful and precise with each motion, being especially careful not to touch the wound itself until after he had poured a stinging liquid over the area.

“Do you hate me?”

His voice was barely a whisper, yet was heavier than lead. I shook my head vigorously, to which he put a hand up to request that I stop moving my arm. He resumed his work, which was now a process of mixing sprinkled herbs over the wound while also smearing some of that green potion over the cut.

“I don’t hate you, either. We haven’t talked much since mom started training us. Twelve days since we actually talked, and even longer since it was just us two. It was when we caught that bug, remember?”

My stomach growled in response to the flavor I remembered. This is not proper non-verbal communication, stomach!

“Haha! It seems that some part of you does remember. Yeah, I’d kill for one of those little morsels right now, but I’m getting off topic. My point is: I think we haven’t had much time together that isn’t shared with lard-o and gloomy. I love those two, but it sometimes feels like they get in the way, or in Hu’s case, falling on top of me and nearly turning my brains to mush.”

He punctuated his words as he tightened the bandage around my arm. His handiwork was impressive, and I could tell that he had been practicing what he had learned from his guidebook. He began to pick the scales from the floor and deposited them in a rubbish sack at his side.

“I don’t blame him for that. He was being cooked from the inside-out by the dragon’s power, and by some miracle he had gotten us back home before finally burning out. If he hadn’t gotten us here, I might have died on that altar with him and Bata both. Still, I thought he was joking when he said he’d squish me.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at that. Somehow, this cheeky little lizard had a way of making any situation into a light-hearted ordeal. I reached for my writing slate, though this time he made no effort to stop me.

“Thank you Tokols. You saved me.”

He just rolled his eyes and rose to his feet after reading my message.

“Aw, come on now. I didn’t do anything special. Here, let’s go get some grub, maybe even some grubs, and rummage through Yabtin’s stuff while he’s out. I ran all the way here, and I’m completely wiped.”

He pulled me to my feet and helped me get situated with my crutch. When we entered the main room he quickly moved a few crates and a barrel to make an improvised little table where we could sit before scrounging around in the alcoves for ingredients. I wrote another message on the slate and held it up for him to read.

“Where is everybody else?”

With two bowls of chopped up fruit and a bit of cheese he plopped down across from me as he read my question.

“Oh, don’t worry about them. Big boy is having his bandages removed and dealing with a whole lot of cracked scales with mom and gran while dad and skin-n-bones go trading in the upper floors. I hear they’ve got something called a market up there where people from the surface trade those coin things for stuff they want. Yabtin’s gone to talk with one of the lesser elders about some news from the surface, so he won’t be back for a while.”

His demeanor was coming back to what I would consider normal for him. The more he talked, the faster he talked, and the faster he talked the happier he was. Eventually he began to ramble on about how tiring the jog to Tuleni’s clinic was, and about how many times he had to stand still and wait for a slow-moving group of kobolds to clear the way. Soon enough I had lost track of what he was saying as he spiraled off into a tangent about mages. Once I was sure his spirits were high I chalked up another question.

“How are you doing? How do you feel?”

The untrackable rambling came to a halt while he processed an answer. He bit at his lip before speaking, the words slowly pouring out.

“I’m good, Kay. I feel alright, for the most part. I don’t know what that…stuff we were forced to drink was, but I’m still me. I just have these… how do I explain it?”

He waved his hands in the air around his head in slow circles, then smoothed his scales from brow to horn.

“They’re not dreams. They’re like memories, but they’re all broken and messed up. And there are these voices, like, too many voices. They sound so weird, like they’re on the other side of a wall all around me. I was out for a while, and it was like that the entire time. Then when I woke up they went away for a while, but it’s like those visions are following me. I hope I’m not going crazy.”

My hands flew across the slate as fast as I could legibly write.

“You’re not crazy! Something happened to me too!”

His eyes narrowed to pinpricks, and with a quick glance to the door he spoke in a hushed voice.

“You saw something too?”

I nodded in confirmation.

“Do you think that maybe Humey and Mibata are the same?”

The thought was worrisome, but it was possible. The lovable lug had become a depressed lump, and the one who could be open with me about anything was now avoiding me. Something was eating at them, and I couldn’t get to it with my bad leg. I once again nodded to Tok, and his expression became serious.

“What’s the plan?”

I guess mom wasn’t the only one who could read my face. I once again used the slate, even though the chalk was running low.

“We need to talk to them in the dorm. Approach them when they’re alone, and get them back here. We need to work together.”

Once he had finished reading he ran a hand over the message, smearing the chalk until it was unreadable. No sooner had he done this than a few passer-bys walked past the door. He took another bite of his fruit while giving me a wink. His voice returned to his casually snarky and boisterous tone.

“You’re right, I probably should get back to the clinic. Somebody has to get that dumb-ass home before he gets lost in the tunnels. I’ll go ahead and put the door back over the entrance. Oh, by the way, is there anything you need from that market? I was thinking of checking it out afterwards.”

From one of the alcoves he pulled a bundle of shortswords wrapped in their sheaths. He handed one to me and buckled one to his waist. The other two he kept under one arm as he approached the entrance. He stopped for a moment, poked his head around the doorway, and moved to close the door. Looking back to me he gave another wink and a smile before closing the ramshackle barrier. I quickly crossed the room and put my whole weight against the door and kept a hand on my blade.

Though I could only hear the distant footsteps of the dashing kobold, I could feel as something magic in origin moved beyond the door. Once the presence was gone and silence had returned I lowered myself to the ground and sat with my back pressed to the barrier. Something's happening again, and this time it will be us who makes the first move.