Chapter 1: Ignore the Chapter Title Above
Gregory watched from his room, observing a lithe figure struggle through the thick blanket of snow covering what he considered to be his front yard. Winter had come just a tad too early this year, ruining Gregory’s most recent harvest of small herbs, but seeing as how he would soon be entertaining an unexpected guest, Gregory quickly tossed the thought of his dead garden to the back of his mind.
There had been a sudden influx of strangers intruding on his property as of late, leaving behind a trail of splintered doors, pockmarked walls, and spilt blood. He felt a stabbing pain as the last thought crossed his mind. Generations of vassals and loyal servants had met their end at the hands of these intrepid invaders and it would take years to redevelop his retinue again.
Gregory put down his mug and closed the curtains, his guest had trudged through the front yard and had arrived on the landing.
--
Ash stumbled, her ragged breath misting up the air ahead of her. She lurched forward again, failing to suppress a cough as a mass of blood and mucus sprayed onto the snow in front of her. Just a few more steps, but before she could muster up the strength to raise her leg, she faltered. The momentum of her step carried her body just the tiniest bit forward, landing face down in the soft snow.
The weathered strap that kept her pack closed strained before snapping on impact, allowing a small journal and a weathered badge tumble free. Mustering up what little strength she had left, Ash turned her body around, resolving to die with her back to the ground and her face to the sky. At least the light of day would grace her sight before she succumbed to endless dreams. The gods had kept their end of the bargain, afterall, there was no obligation for them to assure that she arrived alive and well. Ash let her eyelids fall, but before her wounds could blow out the embers of her consciousness, she heard the sound of shuffling feet and hushed whispers. The whispers grew louder, a harsh sound that stabbed at her ear drums.
The sudden pain brought brief clarity to her mind and her eyes shot open for the briefest of moments before fatigue slammed them shut.
For better or for worse, the last thing she saw was a monster.
--
A dull ache from her wrists and hushed whispers transmitted their way to Ash’s head, rousing her from her unconsciousness. The weight of her limbs suspended in the air, held up by chains whose links rasped against each other in rusted cacophony, relayed to Ash that something was wrong. Her eyelids fluttered open-- slow and weak, but they opened nonetheless. It didn’t take long for her eyes to adjust to the dim lighting, perhaps a benefit of having been unconscious, but then again, it also didn’t take long for her to make out the grim silhouette of the writhing creature working away on something across the room.
The creature turned around, having heard the chain links respond to Ash’s stirring. The creature’s cold gaze scanned her from top to bottom, introducing to Ash a discomfort distinct from that of being held up by chains, but it wasn’t until she noticed the familiar outlines of mismatched steel and leather next to the creature that a sickening horror overwhelmed her. She had been stripped, laying bare the wounds and scars she had borne throughout her journey.
Ash quickly scanned the room, noticing that the creature had been working away at a table full of alchemic ingredients and grotesquely shaped instruments. The creature grabbed a flask from its table and began to make its leisurely approach towards her. The whispers grew louder, stabbing into her mind, causing Ash to spasm at the sudden pain and her arms to strain against her bindings. Blood beaded up at her wrists and wormed its way down the links. The sound of rust scraping against rust bounced off the walls, making the creature pause for a moment, a frown forming on its face. Seeing the creature stall, she began to fight harder against the chains, resolving to escape, even at the cost of her hands. The creature’s frown deepened, and it quickened its steps.
Her panic intensified, as did the whispers, but her struggle brought her no freedom. The creature arrived before her and shoved the flask in its hand into her screaming mouth, a warm liquid spilling into her throat. The sickly sweet concoction made her gag, but nothing escaped from her mouth. She could feel the effects of the liquid spread throughout her body, the muscles in her limbs relaxing under the power of the potion, her consciousness once more deepening into sleep.
--
Gregory wiped the cold sweat off his brow. Why were these squishy creatures always so squirmy?
‘Humans, I think they were called. Third brother did warn me that they weren’t the most reasonable bunch. Quite squishy. Like gnomes, but taller and… panickier. Meaner.’
His thoughts wandered off towards the lesser gnolls and slimes that had been serving him for generations-- or rather, that had served him. Their numbers were easy to replenish, but it would take tens of years. His gaze once more focused on the young human before him. He took joy in observing her wounds close up as the color returned to her face. If she’d just kept her calm, surely she would have noticed that he had been approaching her with a healing potion in his claws. Gregory shook his head, thinking back to when his first human guests had woken up screaming, wildly swinging their swords at him.
“Heyo Grego, got yourself a new guest there?”
Gregory joyfully gurgled back in response before settling back into a frown. A green, gelatinous, humanoid figure kind of wobbled through the door. Its features solidified, gelatin and slime giving way to supple skin and wiry hair. The slime’s face became slender, wibbly bits morphing into wide eyes and a small nose.
“What’s with the frown Greg? Did the human guest panic and hurt itself in its confusion again?”
Gregory nodded his head. Age had mellowed and subdued the part of his nature that sought to butcher the humans that assaulted and burgled his home. He hadn’t ever really left his home before-- there was no need to. Everything he needed was here, his garden was well-tended to, for the most part, and his loyal subjects provided for him a consistent stream of food and other sustenance. So aside from violence and panic, he knew very little of the human psyche.
“Well Greg, guess where I just came from.”
Gregory cocked his head in confusion before realization dawned on him. Second Sister had always been… adventurous. She was a rebellious sort, dismissive of the warnings that first brother always gave them. Of all the cautionary tales, there was one that he always emphasized: Don’t. Trust. Humans.
“Second Sister, did you go visit a human town?”
Gregory hesitantly asked, his voice hushed. Second Sister’s back stood taller, her lips widening into a bright smile.
“You betcha I did, and I think I’ve figured out your dilemma. Humans are scared of you because you’re a monster! Humans are terrified of monsters, absolutely terrified! Slimes? Terrified! Horned rabbits? Terrified! If they’re scared of those things, could you imagine how they’d react to us? They’ve mobilized entire regions just to subjugate lesser drakes, imagine how’d they react to a primordial slime or an elder thing you or me. So my solution for you? Shapeshift or something. Just turn into a human or something human-like. I think they tell stories about you to scare their little ones.”
Gregory’s frown lifted, a spark of inspiration and hope blooming in his eyes. Gregory paused in thought for a moment before casting a shapeshifting incantation on himself. Sharp claws and webbed appendages morphed to give way to supple skin and wiry hair.
“Hey, that’s pretty good! But I think you should turn into something that doesn’t look identical to me.”
Gregory frowned, but quickly began to sift through eons of memory in an effort to find a human or humanlike figure he could mimic. His mind settled on a particularly heroic looking figure that had left a deep impression on him some number of years ago.
“Didja think of someone?”
Gregory nodded his head and cast the incantation on himself again. His body grew taller, lean muscles and slender curves condensing and hardening to form rugged and sharper outlines around the torso.
“Wow, you look good. You look great, even. Now listen, when that girl over there wakes up, there’s no way she’ll panic.”
With that, the two of them started the process of freeing the human from her chains and moving her over to a nice bed with a plush comforter. They tucked her in and waited for her to wake up.
--
Ash woke up with a calm demeanor, pushing down on the panic that threatened to rear its head. She had borne the consequences of carelessness with her body during the last few years and she wasn’t about to let panic carve out another scar. Her earlier outburst was sure to leave a permanent mark on her wrists.
This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
She kept her eyes closed and her breathing steady, taking in whatever information she could about her surroundings through the other senses at her disposal. She was lying in a plush bed and covered by a soft blanket, and aside from the beating of her heart, the room was silent. As for her own condition, she felt great, fantastic even. She had been teetering on the brink of death, but now, as far as she could tell, all of her wounds had been treated and tended to, though her wrists still felt tender.
Focusing inwards, she felt her lifeblood dance throughout her body, leaving unprecedented vigor in its wake. She wasn’t brimming with strength, but she felt a peculiar oneness between her body and mind, as though her body would precisely move according to the design of her mind.
She was alive, more than alive. Ash had started this journey off the back of nothing more than an ancient journal and a family legend, and it seemed like her journey had finally come to an end. She was alive. Ash jumped onto her feet, or rather, she tried to. She never really even got that far. Her arms had given way when she strained to hoist her torso up and off the bed, her upper body returning to the plush sheets with a soft plop. There didn’t seem to be anything wrong with her aside from the weakness. She just felt tired.
Head resting against her pillow, Ash closed her eyes. She was alive and in better condition now than when she had left home. Home. Thoughts of home gave way to memories of her journey-- her mission. Her burden. Fatigue washed over her, Ash’s mind begging for sleep. The monster hadn’t killed her. It had instead healed her, dressed her in soft fabric and placed her in a luxurious bed. Panic that had once been threatening to burst through Ash’s mental walls subsided. Offering her gratitude to the gods, Ash closed her eyes and let her thoughts wander. As sleep overtook her, she whispered to herself,
“The legend was true.”
--
“Whatcha got there in your hand, Grego, and what are you doing with the other one?”
Gregory’s left hand/claw hadn’t stopped morphing back and forth between claw/hand and hand/claw.
“I’m practicing my shapeshifting. I haven’t ever had a need to use this spell and the transformation slips whenever I’m not paying attention.”
Second Sister raised an eyebrow, but let Gregory be. Afterall, he wasn’t wrong. First brother had cooped up Gregory in this dungeon for millenia, and Gregory had been more than content to stay put. The days when elder things and primordial gods wreaked havoc had been buried under the passage of time. Time-- it had a strange way of mellowing things out. The darken faded from the world, becoming nothing more than folktales and myths. Their absence allowed for the rise and flourishing of lesser creatures and weaker races. Some darken retreated into the unknown, sinking deep into the oceans or digging deep underground, while others, like Gregory and Second Sister, had hidden amongst their weaker progeny-- carving out territories in isolated and uncharted lands.
Gregory’s left appendage stopped morphing, settling on a human hand. In his other hand hung a ratty and beat-up bag. The strap that tied it closed had, at some point, snapped and its exterior was plastered in mismatched patches of animal hide. Gregory upended the pack and dumped its contents onto his workbench. Some rations wrapped in greasy parchment and a small compass spilled out onto his workbench, adding themselves to the badge and bundle of journals that Gregory had retrieved alongside Ash herself.
“Oh man,” Second Sister said as she let out a whistle, “that’s a noble coat of arms on that badge.”
Gregory looked at the badge, then looked up at Second Sister, a look of confusion plastered all over his face.
“You know, like kings, dukes, and counts? Remember when we were hiding during the calamity, First brother would visit us and tell us stories about what the humans were doing while the gods were fighting?”
Enlightenment twinkled in Gregory’s eyes as he gurgled in delight.
“So this human is important, as far as humans go?”
Gregory asked, his question tinged in slight confusion. The stories that First brother had told them described human kings as dignified and bedecked in luxurious attire, kind of like that heroic human Gregory met years ago. Was that human a king? The female human he found today didn’t look half as dignified as he did, but she did somewhat resemble the heroic one-- not that Gregory was particularly skilled at differentiating humans apart. Truth be told, they all sort of looked the same to him. Gregory had long since hidden himself away from the world, and by the time humans had started to settle down together the only human he’d ever been in frequent contact with was First brother. Was that racist? Speciest? Not that Gregory cared, but First brother always seemed to slip into a somber mood whenever the topic would come up.
“She doesn’t look like much. Her clothes are all banged up and she wasn’t carrying much aside from what you spilled onto your table. Her sword is pure goblin steel though, couldn’t have been cheap. What’s it say in her journals?”
Gregory leafed through the pages of one of the manuscripts before tossing the journal over to Second Sister.
“I don’t know how to read human script.”
“Oh.”
Second Sister said as she caught the journal and opened up to the first page. Her eyebrows scrunched up as she flipped through the pages, a look of exasperation cementing itself in the contours of her face. Ten minutes passed, Gregory shifting uncomfortably from one supporting appendage to the other.
“What’s it say, Sister?” Gregory ventured forward.
“Oh, I haven’t got a clue, I can't read human script that well. It’s a boring little thing, this journal-- hardly a picture or drawing between the pages!”
Gregory watched on as Second Sister shook the journal by its covering, clearly hoping for something-- anything-- to fall out. After a few seconds of vigorous agitation, Sister closed the manuscript in a huff and tossed it back toward Gregory.
“How are we going to figure out what the journals say if not even you can read it?”
Gregory posed a very important question, just how in the world were they going to decipher the journals’ content?
“Maybe we can take them to a human and have them read to us?” Gregory thoughtfully said.
“That’d be a good idea Grego, if the humans weren’t terrified of us. Even if we go into a town looking like humans, they’d probably get suspicious that two grown up humans can’t read.” Second Sister said, unaware that literacy was not very high amongst the general human populace.
“I think we could take the journals to first brother.”
Sister looked at Gregory with a twinkle in her eyes.
“That’s a brilliant idea Grego! I visited Yanshu last week and he told me that Ebo had told him that Zogo and Ynypr had met first brother on a trip they took to the Western Divide.”
Gregory turned back to his workbench and pulled out a large scroll from a side drawer. He placed the scroll on the bench and unfurled it, the aged material crinkling under his every touch. Despite its weathered look, the map seemed to be in good condition. Gregory wasn’t rough with it, but he wasn’t exactly gentle, either. Sister dashed over and pushed Gregory to the side a bit, greedily absorbing the map’s contents.
“This map is beautiful, where’d you get it?” Second Sister asked.
“It’s handmade, actually.” Gregory replied, a hint of pride tinging his words “There was a really shiny human that barged into my home some years back, and he carried a very nice map of my territory. I wanted to see how big other places were, but his map wasn’t as big as I wanted it to be, so I took up mapmaking to try and make a really really big one myself. It’s kept me pretty occupied for years now, alongside gardening, and as a bonus it was a great way to practice my scrying.”
“Gardening, how did you even start-- nevermind. On second thought Grego, the Western Divide isn’t very close to here. I don’t think it’s a good idea to travel so far just to get a couple of human manuscripts translated.” Second Sister said, a bit more hesitant about their ramshackle plan now that reality was setting in.
“What if we visit the others along the way? You said that Zogo and Ynypr had visited the Western Divide, maybe we can stay at their place for a bit.”
“Ohhhh yeah that’s fantastic, we can visit Ebo and Yanshu as well! Hold up, let’s look at the map and plan what route to take. I want to visit as many of the others as we can. It’s a good thing a bunch of them live in that general area. Do you remember where Iselsu and Atticus live?”
Gregory looked around for something to write with as Second Sister kept naming those she wanted to visit. He carefully marked his map with little dots and a short description beside each dot identifying who lived where. The two went back forth for a few more minutes with Sister machine gunning names as Gregory made full advantage of his multiple limbs to mark his map. After some cleaning up, the two of them finally settled on their route.
“We’ll go south and skirt around human territories before turning west and going through the southern expanse. We’ll hit the western sea and then head north until we reach the Western Divide. Along the way, we’ll visit Iselsu in Kreikar, Atticus in Hurlton Fortress, Zogo and Ynypr in the Southern Crag, Ebo in Ebo’s Forest, and Yanshu in Krysint.”
Gregory articulated their plan out loud as he rolled up the map. A shiny wooden tube materialized in Sister’s hand, her outstretched arm offering to take the scroll off of Gregory’s hands. Gregory tossed her the scroll, immediately going off to prepare provisions for their trip.
“Grego, why are you lugging that pack around? Just store everything, no need to encumber ourselves.”
Gregory looked down at the pack in his hands. It wasn’t the same one that the human had brought with her, it was one he’d salvaged off an unfortunate human-turned-paste one of his vassals had found some years back. It was a nice pack, one made from high quality leather that despite its age had kept well, but thinking about how this pack had entered his possession had reminded him of another problem.
“Sister, what about the human?” Gregory inquired, realizing that their journey might be over before it even began.
“What about her, just bring her with us,” Sister replied unconcernedly.
“I mean, can’t she translate the human script for us? We don’t have to go find first brother anymore.”
“Bah, who cares about that Grego. We can take the human with us and it can teach us the human script on our travels and that way, we can surprise first brother and show him what we’ve learned when we meet him!”
Gregory gurgled once again in pleasant delight. Sister was right, it wasn’t about the destination anymore, it was about the journey. He hadn’t seen Iselsu in nearly fifty years and Yanshu in nearly a couple centuries. It’d be nice to catch up with his blood brother again.
“Sister, I just had a great idea! What if we travel in human form? I think it’ll be fun, I get to practice my shapeshifting and we won’t have any problems if we run into any humans.”
Second Sister nodded, agreeing to the plan. The two fleshed out their plan a bit more before deciding to raid Gregory’s treasury, much to his chagrin, and don some cool human attire. Sister finished gathering provisions while Gregory patched up the human’s raggedy old pack.
“Alright Grego, time to wake up the human.”
--
Ash woke up, opened her eyes, drank in the sight of two humans decked out in a hideous mishmash cacophony of clothing and armor, realized that they were probably two monsters posing as humans, opened her mouth, realized no sound was coming out, closed her mouth, lay down, and tried to go to sleep again. At least the whispering was gone.