Memory transcription subject: Alvi, Venlil Tourist.
Date [standardized human time]: Sept 12th, 2136. End of 2nd Claw
With a parting nuzzle against me, Valek stood and helped Maeve and I to our paws, “I could really go for some juicefruit; need to rehydrate after all that… How about we try that juicer we saw on the way here?”
Maeve and I agreed, and Valek led us back down the hall to leave. Passing by Sovlin’s ship and away from the other exhibits, Valek looked to his side and halted mid-step; his shoulders going stiff as the tip of his tail thrashed behind him. Following his sight, I saw he was staring down a blocky stone archway, the sight of it pulling fear from deep in my memories as I remembered the foster facility, and the silver-suited officers who frequented it. Beside the entrance stood a vinyl cut-out of the newest season of The Exterminators.
My steps faltered and a small pup ran into my legs, nearly knocking me to the ground. Maeve righted my balance beside me and pulled me from my dark recollections. Valek had made it to the threshold and called back to us, conviction in his voice. Maeve’s voice was worried, pleading, “Valek, today has been a lot, maybe we should head back?”
“No. I… I need to see this. I need to see what lies they tell themselves. I didn’t tell you about them because I knew they were wrong even then, but never so… It was careless of me to bring you here. I should have told you about them. But now? Now, I don’t even think they’re Venlil.”
We crossed under the archway of the exhibit, the inside decorated plainly with white tile and steel furnishments, just like the inside of Exterminator Offices. This was easily the most well-appointed exhibit we had seen so far, and probably in the entire museum. The walls were so thick with artifacts and displays that several topics were covered by just one glass.
On our right was a progression of flamer technology, ranging from torches connected to a single fuel tank on a truck, to carried personal packs. The fuel tanks themselves became more complex, then shifted to perplexingly simple modern examples, taking advantage of high-pressure meta-materials to compress and solidify the fuel, allowing it more range from pressure alone. I was surprised to see they had a kind of Energy torch in their own display; judging by the plaque, this technology was deemed ‘not sufficiently purifying’ and kept to industry, while Exterminators continued to use propellants.
Valek led us through and around scattered herds before joining the largest in front of a replica of the second Stonebuilder Tapestry, hung above a case holding an early flamer replica. Touted as one of our earliest records of the use of exterminators, the tapestry depicted a giant Venlil, the Stonebuilder, commanding a herd of Exterminators to cleanse a pack of shadestalkers. The plaque beside it read:
Here we see an ancient account of Venlil Exterminators, dutifully commanded by the Stonebuilder to rid their homelands of the predator taint. Such imagery confirms scientific theory that convergent discovery unites Prey in the creation of their own manner of ‘exterminator’ to cleanse predator taint and protect the herd; even within the most timid of species!
Maeve recounted what she heard from the Village about the Stonebuilder, that they were a heroic folk figure dedicated to the protection of their herd. Valek and I confirmed the same, and told the story of how he, and early exterminators, had rid their lands of predators.
“Honestly that is fairly familiar. We have several stories of mythical figures ‘ridding evil’ from their lands; Saint Patrick comes to mind. But it strikes me as odd that the Stonebuilder would command other Venlil to combat the predators? The stories in the village gave me the impression they were a protective, or sacrificing figure; wouldn’t he put himself in harm’s way before others in the Herd?”
Maeve looked to me to confirm, though I only bobbed my tail in confused admittance, “I couldn’t say. The foster facility didn’t tell us much about him, and the other pups told wilder stories than I had heard before or since. What really gets me is this nightmare of a flamer!”
My words pulled them to the case beneath the tapestry, holding a replica of a pre-contact exterminator flamer. The flamer itself was… certainly creative! hardwood piping with a tin nozzle, the ‘tank’ was a wax-lined flask of woven woolgrass. This over-complicated fire hazard would easily light up the user before anything else, right before everything else in a five-tail radius! “I mean, look at it! They were using tin for the nozzle??”
“Tin?” Maeve peered over my shoulder and cocked her head in confusion, “Well, humans worked with Tin in our bronze age before we could do iron.”
My tail flicked in annoyed humor, “Right, and yeah, tin is really important for most alloys, but alone?? I can melt tin in a pot at home, and they expect it to last more than a single blast on a flamethrower??”
“Oh, my stars! Come here and look at this!” Valek’s voice carried over from further down the long exhibit in the predator showcase. He stood in front of a large curved display housing several eye-witness recreations of predators, backed by a panorama of the Twilight sky.
His tail twitched in mischievous humor as he asked, “See something wrong here?”
Before us stood three predators; on the left before the brightest part of twilight, bordered by false fields of shadeberries and brightstar beans, hunched a massive mound of shaggy black fur, its giant jaws were stuffed with rows of fangs and stained orange as it hung above an over-thick brush, censoring some grisly scene. Its nearer eye glowed blue as a Venlil’s star, stolen from the Tapestry. Below it a plaque read its name, Kelach, and its preferred method of stealing sleeping pups during its feeding frenzy in the Night.
On the right, backed by black starlit skies and standing on a faux glacier, was a beast of pale white skin, stretched tight over its massive crouching frame, ready to pounce on anyone brave enough to look away from it. After a few moments, a small pup walked up to its side of the display when a piercing mechanical screech assaulted the child, while the specimen lurched forward slightly on well-traveled rails. The pup squealed in terror, jumping nearly a tail off the ground before bounding back to their parents, who tittered at the poor thing from their safe distance. The plaque beneath it read ‘Tangar’ and described how it waited, frozen still for paws or whole harvests for some hapless Venlil to wander too far.
And in the center was a large white-wooled creature, its piercing orange eyes following your every move around the exhibit. It was easily as tall as me, and its long-fanged maw was horrifically bared and glistening with false drool; its paws were long and grasping, with claws that could skewer a Gojid, not to mention a Venlil! The plaque below detailed how it hunted in the darkness bordering Twilight and Night, doomed to its solitary existence, cast out by both Night and Day. The Shadestalker wou-
Wait.
Shadestalker?
I looked to Valek beside me, my tail twisted in disbelief, while his own was as flat as his voice, “Yeah.”
“No.”
“Yeah.”
“No!”
Valek laughed at my confused frustration.
“It isn’t! Their eyes were white as Day’s End! This looks nothing li-”
The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
“-What’s gotcha all hot’n’bothered? Oh, what the hell??” Maeve chuckled disbelievingly, “Why… by all that is holy, do you have a Lycan in your museum??? And did… did they put LED’s in that thing’s eyes?!”
She leaned over between the two of us, looking closely at the display.
“Feeling at home with your kind, Predator?” Maeve above us nearly jumped out of her skin, and I reached out to ground her; Valek shifted to stand between us and the source of the noise. Turning to look, I saw a great pink Iftali hobbling toward us as quickly as their knobby knees would carry them.
I kept behind Maeve, staying out of sight of the intruder, though I could see Valek’s tail thrash and wool flare at the man’s accusation. “She isn’t a predator.”
Pity crossed the Iftali’s features, and his voice was kind as he spoke to Valek; too kind, like he was one of the myriad pups milling about the exhibit. “Don’t worry, it won’t do anything while I’m here; you can speak freely, citizen.” They bowed their head slowly in Valek’s direction, then mine. “Lafza. A pleasure to serve you. I am the curator of this house of knowledge.”
Maeve snorted, an unflattering sound that slipped into a soft cough, her good hand coming up to her veil before she collected herself. “Does that mean you’re the one who put together these… creative displays?”
“That I am! I’m pleased you found this exhibit actually, Predator.” Lafza lifted their long neck high, puffing out their chest as a tone of condescension slipped into their voice. “Mine is the best depiction of Venlil Prime’s Predators this side of the Capitol! By the order, you poor Venlil had the most horrid displays I’d ever seen when I got here; it was like you don’t even know your own predators! I swear, you weaklings would be lost without us.”
Valek was incensed, and looked about ready to charge the elder, but I grabbed his wool and pulled him back. Maeve picked up in our silence, “Oh, I am sure they are quite the improvement! Your great institution’s workmanship is clearly on display as much as your knowledge. I haven’t learned Venlil writing yet, maybe you could tell me what these are?
Lafza scoffed, clicking their tongue derisively. “Of course you haven’t! Certainly couldn’t expect a Predator to have picked up even the Primitive’s language this quickly, let alone the Venlil’s. Very well, let us begin.”
Valek and I watched as he walked past us, while Maeve politely followed, “Here we have the Kelach, a monstrous beast that hunts its way through the edge of twilight. Although such beasts are rare to encounter, they most certainly pose a threat, especially to a species as soft as the Venlil. Note the fangs and the size of its maw; even the smaller ones can consume a Venlil whole. Those piercing blue eyes have been the last thing many a prey species have seen before their deaths. A predator to put even your kind to shame.”
Maeve nodded and bowed dramatically, her voice rising and falling in musical fashion, “Oh, most definitely! Truly, humans could bear-ly hold a candle to the dangers of Venlil wildlife!”
Lafza continued, their hooves tokking on the floor as they walked on to the next display, pointing to the skeletal beast of skin and teeth. “This is the Tangar. A vicious nightside ambush predator. One wrong step in its territory and you’ll be pounced on and devoured in mere seconds.” They surreptitiously tapped a paw-level button to the side of the display, causing the model to screech and jump again; Maeve jumped in a playful fashion, somehow finding this degradation delightful. Lafza bellowed their lesson, obviously pleased to have ‘startled’ Maeve. “Although far rarer for Venlil to encounter due to their habitation in Night, they are still a genuine danger to those who would wander from the herd. Surely not even your predatory reflexes could defeat its pouncing.”
Maeve spoke through a wavering voice, trying to wipe her eyes under her veil, “Nope! Most cert-heh-hly not!” She sniffed away unseen muck, and took a deep breath. “Ehh-Heh, hem. Hmm Hoo! And how about this…” Hold on. She was laughing! Barely holding it in! What could she find- “This lovely specimen. What’s this angry boy called?”
“Of course your kind would call this lovely. This, is a Shadest-!”
Maeve burst out in breathy cackles as she turned away from the curator, bringing her hand to her face to try to muffle further indignities. Valek and I started to titter along with her, caught up in her mirth.
“What is so funny, Predator?!”
“Why does it have hands?!?!” Maeve rounded on the curator, screaming in exasperated disbelief. “You put the same claws on the Shadestalker as the Tangar! The Kelach has venomous fangs, and it and Shadestalker both have Venlillian wool! There is no fucking way the Kelach has bioluminescent eyes. I’ve seen better taxidermy in a goddamn Spirit Halloween! Who gave you these Questing-Beast-ass models?!”
“I-I…” They stuttered a moment, ears flicking between each of us in turn before they took in a deep breath and stood a little straighter. “I made them myself with testimony provided by our very own Dawn Creek Exterminators office.”
Yeah, cause they’re so good at their jobs.
“I beg your pardon?!” The curator’s attention snapped to me and he pointed a hoof in insult, making to step to me, “I won’t take any dune-sliding from the likes of-”
My ears fell back against my head as I realized the ‘inside thought’ had escaped. Valek crouched between the curator and I, leveling his crown to the elder’s sternum, and I could hear his claws scratch against the tile at our feet-
“And the Tangar!” Maeve’s voice cut off the curator’s, pulling his attention away from me and Valek. She left our side and moved to the opposite end of the display, forcing the Iftali to choose to focus on her or us; he chose the former.
“What of it? Going to criticize my work again, beast?!”
Maeve belted, “HA! There is no ‘work’ to criticize! Think for just half a moment, I know it’s hard,” the Iftali sputtered indignantly, “You said the Tangar is a night-side predator? Lives in a perpetual winter from lack of sun? So why is it hairless?”
“Now see here, I will not-”
“It would freeze to death in an hour! What in the world led you to believe anything living in such a frigid environment would be, not only hairless, but skeletal?!” Maeve glared at the Iftali from under her veil, hands on her hips as she waited for an answer.
The curator pushed themselves up to their full height, though still only just a head above Maeve, and stomped right up to Maeve, implicitly commanding her to back down. “I will not be talked down to by some BEAST wi-”
“AND YOU WILL NOT CALL MY FRIENDS WEAK!” Maeve shrieked. Too loud. Too sharp. Her voice silenced the dull murmur of the crowd around us, until it was the only sound stabbing into my ears. I pulled into myself as the room and the anger overwhelmed me, clinging onto Valek’s arm as I started to go wall-eyed.
Valek saw my distress and tried to ground me as Maeve and the Curator continued yelling at each other, neither giving a tail of ground as Maeve defended us and the Curator belittled us. I pressed my ear into his chest, and he covered my other ear with his free hand. I felt him yell something at the two of them, and Maeve’s voice went quiet. A moment longer, and he pulled his arms from mine to be quickly replaced by Maeve’s.
Under Maeve’s shower of - much quieter - apologies, I watched Valek walk up to the curator, still spewing his vitriol. Valek waited for him to lose his breath, before speaking calmly, but boldly, into the witnessed silence.
“We’re leaving. But not before I tell you, and everyone here: We are stronger than you tell us we are.”
Every ear was on Valek, and the Curator scowled as he glared down at him, whipping his against his backside in haughty irritation. “I have seen enough of We Venlil back home, in the arcade, and here in the museum to know that We are many things, but ‘timid’ is not one of them. Proven by the fact that you need to beat it into us, in our news, in our schools, in our ‘history’, every single Paw. I have learned that we are so much more than what people tell us. And I hope - no, I know - that we will all learn our strength. Soon.”
Valek bowed politely, turned his tail on the curator, and herded Maeve and I out of the exhibit. Maeve lifted me into her arm, holding me aloft with her sling, and turned to face the sputtering Iftali as she walked, pointing two fingers at her veiled eyes, and swinging them back to him.