Chapter 2: Kings Dock

Naturally a strong swimmer, they make their way unnoticed and rise out innocuously onto the docks. A bustling area no one takes notice and they look for someone who looks local. Nearby an elderly person seated on a stool appears knowledgeable and Jormungandr approaches. With growing grace they ask politely. “Do you happen to know where I could find the Sleeping Bird Inn?” A smile forms on their face as they respond. “I’ll do you one better, follow me.” They walk up a small hill at a vigorous pace until the elder coughs while pointing and heads back down. Before Jormungandr a dingy sign spells out “Sleeping Bird Inn” in a bold faded font. Prior to entering they open the satchel, shocked they drop it to the ground. Unbeknownst a figure spots the golden stones in that brief moment and approaches silently from the rear. Before being able to seize the prize a posse of guards encircles Jormungandr and the figure. Ignoring the latter the guard captain bellows out an order. “A civilian has brought your theft to our attention, hand over the bag and we will be merciful.” Distracted by Jormungandr, the figure seizes opportunity and rapidly slaughters the entire guard detachment and stabs Jormungandr where their heart should be. Chaos erupts and the rogue makes off with the satchel. Wounded but still alive, Jormungandr ambles into the nearest building, the Sleeping Bird Inn. Hunched over, cradling the wound with their arm, the Inn’s patrons rush to their aid. After someone shouts for Amethyst and an individual enters the hall from a storage room then rushes Jormungandr to a room upstairs with the help of other folks. To tend the wounds Amethyst strips off the bloodied coat, revealing a mirepoix of black skin and white scales. Unfazed they find the wound surprisingly shallow and the victim in over good health. Curious as to the nature of their being Amethyst asks. “What are you and what’s your name?” Still conscious, they reply. “My name is Jormungandr, I don’t know what I am.” With a smile they respond. “That’s alright, they call me Amethyst, I am human though I’ve always been to find the extraordinary.” Their vision becoming stabilized again Jormungandr makes out fuschia hair tied in an exemplary bun topping light skin and eyes of black with a below average physique. After taping Jormungandr Amethyst heads out to leave, although they are interrupted. “Do you by any chance have books for me while I recover?” Blurts out Jormungandr. Pausing for a moment Amethyst makes an inquiry. “What would you like to read?” Jormungandr doesn’t need to think, they just answer the only answer. “Animals.” “I have some great books on local birds with very intricate images, I’ll be back in a moment.” Amethyst shuts the door softly and heads toward their personal library, a generous collection of locally written books ranging from propaganda to financial records. While waiting Jormungandr investigates their surroundings visually. Suddenly a sad voice, their inner voice speaks. “You’ve let the demon hearts we desperately need slip through our palms. Why did you not consume them immediately, there was time. You wouldn’t have been harmed.” Knowing they are correct they can’t muster the courage to respond. When Amethyst returns they bring a stack of books and plop them down gently beside Jormungandr. Excited to have someone interested in learning about fauna, Amethyst passes a white book with black embroidery and recommends it first. “This book was compiled by my grandparents from the remains of an older book, treat it with care.” Too busy with work obligations they return downstairs, excited to see Jormungandr’s progress later.

Jormungandr immediately begins reading the book, Memories Of What Was Lost In The Fire: Birds Of The Kings Dock Isles. A lengthy preface going over what Amethyst already mentioned in too many words is skipped. The first actual entry is the Trash Bird, a medium sized bird that frequents human populations, seen as a pest. They have brown rings that alternate with grey ones. The second entry is the Netted Bird, a Bird with a light brown feather pattern and a darker netlike pattern atop the former. They are avid insectivores and occasionally kept as pets. The third entry is the Sea Bird, a slightly larger Trash Bird with unique beak adaptations for a fishing lifestyle and longer wingspan. The fourth entry contained no images of birds, only doodles and words. Jormungandr attempted to decipher the page and hours passed. Eventually, Amethyst finished their work and went upstairs to see their patient. Opening the door carelessly the ensuing door slam startles Jormungandr, breaking their concentration. Overcome with excitement Amethyst ignores this and begins to test Jormungandr on what they learnt. “Have you reached the page on Prince Of The Sky, or the discovery page on Ground Beasts? Those are some of my favourites!” Ashamed, Jormungandr closes the book and speaks untrue. “I had just awoken from rest and begun to read so I’ve made it only to the fifth page.” Enthusiasm undeterred, Amethyst sits beside Jormungandr and re-opens the book to page five. “Mind if I read alongside?” They plead with puppy dog eyes. Silently Jormungandr replies with a nod. Time passes and Amethyst is beyond ready for the next page, still Jormungandr focuses. Realizing they can not read Amethyst tries to bring the subject up carefully. “Excuse me Jormungandr, do you have a difficult time reading?” With a heavy sigh Jormungandr admits their reading abilities are lacking. “I learnt only what was needed.” Empathetic, Amethyst runs their hand through blood red hair and makes a proposition. “I can teach you while you recover maybe even after, if you’d like.” Jormungandr cocks their head to face Amethysts and replies. “I’d like that very much.” With night well underway Amethyst says good night and departs. “Far too late for learning today, rest and tomorrow we will get to work.”

Sun rises, birds chirp and hearts speak. “Once you recover we must search for the Demon Hearts.” Ahead of the heart's expectations Jormungadr had already begun searching. “Remember, who Raga told us to give the bag to?” The rhetorical question silences the heart and Jormungandr stretches to the best of their ability. Shortly after exercise Amethyst enters the room and sits beside them again. Before starting the work day Amethyst leaves some activities to hone reading abilities. Plodding through the mental exercises at a moderate pace, midday arrives in time, signaled by Amethyst bringing a platter of food and a small collection of paper. “I wrote these simple stories for you to read, I’ll be here to listen and correct.” Moved by the kindness Jormungandr gives a cheek raise and eats while reading. Not actually illiterate Amethyst is pleased to see only minor issues, most importantly they are happy to see them capable of reading albeit at a basic level. Once again returning to the Inn they say goodnight as they will not be back till next day. “Goodnight Jormungandr.” Food in their mouth Jormungandr mutters. “G’night.” Absorbed by their learning the rest of the day they pass out late at night when the candle finally dies.

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Waking up to the velure touch of Amethyst's flesh on their shoulder, Jormungandr springs up. Taken aback by the sudden movement Amethyst’s eyes gape open and they exclaim. “That’s wonderful you can move! Any pain?” Sitting back down, Jormungandr thinks for a moment then answers. “Still sore but I no longer fear my wound will open and I’ll bleed out.” Swamped with business Amethyst requests a favour. “Jormungandr, if you're feeling able could you assist me in operating the inn?” Not one to deny a reasonable favour to one who they are indebted to, they agree. “Definitely, I don’t know how much help I’ll be though.” Amethyst replies in a gracious tone “That is absolutely understandable, it's very simple and I’ll show you everything today so no need to worry.” Slowly the two make their way to the stairs down until Amethyst sees Jormungandr’s attire is rags and bandages. “Oh we have spare clothes guests leave behind in the attic wait here.” Jormungandr nods as Amethyst runs the other way and vanishes behind a wall. Moments later they return with a grey cuirass and grey trousers. Before a word of disagreement can be uttered Jormungandr has been stripped nude then re-clothed in the lost and found clothes. “Looking presentable at last, oh and an eyepatch for your eye.” They say as discarding the bloody clothes. With that out of the way they finally head downstairs into the main hall with lines of stools paired with tables, a large counter with many cabinets and a great fireplace. Behind the counter an older woman waves to them, prompting Jormungandr to wonder who they are, mayhap the owner? Before they can ask, Amethyst speaks. “That is my sole parent, ever since my grandparents retired and other parent passed away it’s been the two of us running the place.” Reaching the cabinet Jormungandr sees the wear of stress on their gaunt wrinkled face, plagued by profoundly large dark circles. Greetings are exchanged, the mother introducing themselves as Fuschia. “Hello Jormungandr, Amethyst has told me about you. Congratulations on recovery from such a violent attack, my name is Fuschia.” Remembering their need to acquire the Demon Hearts, Jormungandr asks Fuschia. “Do you happen to own this lovely Inn?” “Oh no, that would be my father, they no longer work here due to their age.” After coughing to pivot the conversation back to work Fuschia answers Amethyst's question. “Hm, I need the spare supplies brought to me, could you show Jormungandr where the storage room is?” “Sounds good, Jormungandr come with me.” Amethyst says while stepping backwards, then rotating to head to a dimly lit area below the second floor hall. At a thick wooden door Amethyst uses a key to unlock it then instructs Jormungandr. “Just move the crates marked xx/xx/xx to Fuschia. I’ll be back later, have fun.” Moving slowly from their healing injury. Jormungandr takes boxes one at a time with the proper inscriptions from their shelf to Fuschia. Over time the cramped room gives way to a spacious space. Almost done with their work Fuschia interrupts. “This is excellent, you can head up. I'll finish this, it’s getting late.” Feeling the effects of night, the drowsy Jormungandr returns to their chambers. Just as they prepare to sleep a sheet of paper on the bed catches their attention. Scribed in Amethyst’s unique font Jormungandr begins reading. “I was unable to see you again today and wrote this story for you in lieu. It’s my retelling of King’s Dock's founding.”

“Before Kings Dock the isles were ruled by Kings Of The Sky, gigantic birds that rule the sea and land with their deadly beak. Millennia ago sailors from the mainland came searching for ancient ruins. When they reached Kings Dock, the natural harbour in conjunction with the prominent mountain range led them to christening the island, Kings Dock. Satisfied with the island they set up a camp outside the natural harbour, Kings Dock Town. Drained by the long days spent at sea the crew slept long into the next day. Screams woke the infant town's inhabitants. A King Of The Sky had descended and begun eating people whole. Fleeing from the beast the survivors fled into the dense forest, coagulating around an extensive cave system. For a millennia the people would eke out an existence under the birds. Every year during mating season the King Of The Sky would fight for breeding rights. Every year a single male would survive, God Of The Sky. Every time the human settlers would harvest the corpses. One particular body held within a gilded staff. The staff was promptly claimed by a youth who took it under their robe and returned to harvesting. Suddenly the sky shook as divine wings harked the Sky Gods' arrival. In seconds the posse of five have become one shell shocked person. After swallowing its dinner the bird goes in for the dessert. Then a volcano of blood shoots from what was the bird's skull. It’s body deflates like a balloon and smashes the ground. The youth had fallen on their derrière, triggering the staff. Gasps from fellow humans who had hidden when the bird arrived fill the island. In time a civilization will grow, the youth becoming its first ruler.”

Now truly restful, Jormungandr fades to black. In the morning they complete their routine then head downstairs, not a soul in sight. Clicking boots then herald the threat's arrival. A contingent of guards, led by a familiar elder. “So you’ve been hiding amidst my own, fiend.” Focused on assessing the situation Jormungadr says nothing. Spotting a smaller guard near the main entrance they take their chance to escape. Rapid leg movement propels them towards the guard who reacts with an outstretched spear. A clean kill the guards is decapitated and under the mist of viscera Jormungandr escapes. Outside they spot Amethyst, whose head tilts away in shame, amidst a crowd of people. Stricken by betrayal Jormungandr heads the other way, into what remains of forest on Kings Dock.

Their mind on autopilot, they plunge deep into the green landscape. Adrenaline drained, danger evaded, Jormungandr sees a small pond and enters its cooling embrace. While submerged hunting fish a figure carrying a long bag stops outside the swamp and starts to dig. Curious, Jormungandr swims stealthily close to them and watches. After digging for some time the bag is plopped inside and covered. Once the figure has left Jormungandr uncovers the bag and opens it. Inside is a feathery human whose neck has a deep cut. Enthused, the demon heart speaks. “Split the torso, consume the heart and be rewarded.” Seduced by their heart's saccharine voice Jormungandr makes an incision and removes the heart. Slicing it in half the heart disappears in two bites. Joyfully, their demon heart speaks again. “The heart of Jormungandr makes one, the heart of an unborn makes two, the heart of a man makes three, the heart of a chimera makes four. Our flame now burns enough to be evoked. Feel it course through your blood and release it.” Doing as they are told Jormungandr flexes their muscles and concentrates on the unseen flame. Recalling the candles at the Sleeping Bird Inn their fingers are covered in a small flame. They stand in awe at the power of their demon heart. Fading quickly once concentration is broken the fingers return to normal, unharmed. Sensing Jormungadr’s satisfaction, the heart speaks. “That was only a taste of what I can do, bring me more hearts and I can give you the world.” Unsure of how to find the hearts, Jormungandr asks. “How can the hearts be found?” Confidently it replies. “The one called Amethyst, bring them to me, we must speak.”