---Vermin---
---Khr’kowan’s perspective---
“NOOOOO!!!” I scream as Karkhal releases an arrow that I can see wasn’t properly aimed.
It sinks into the thigh of the [dragonbird], instantly laming that leg but neither killing nor immobilising the animal which shrieks, spreads its wings and takes off.
With the swiftness of lightning, I snatch her shortbow from her and draw an arrow out of her quiver.
I spend the briefest of instants checking the thanatite that its head is made of… the tooth of one of our shared great-great-grandmothers. Safe to risk on retrieving the younger piece.
I loose the arrow which strikes the animal in the eye, killing it instantly.
It drops from around the height of the top of the Palace.
I breathe a brief sigh of relief before turning to glare at my half-sister.
She shrinks away from me, looking suitably ashamed.
Without a word, I walk to where the animal fell.
“I ask forgiveness that you suffered needlessly.” I say before picking it up by the ankles and turning around to chasten the idiot trainee.
“What. did. you. do. wrong?” I hiss down at the girl.
“I… I took a shot that missed…” she answers, looking down, ashamed.
“You did!” I seethe “…And why is that wrong?”
Mumbling, she answers “Because… if the prey doesn’t die instantly they suffer… and…”
“AND?” I ask, ripping the arrow out of the grey skin of the animal’s thigh to draw her attention to its tip.
I hold up one of my fingers to show her its claw, making obvious the fact that it is tipped with her grandmother’s.
“…and… if they escape with a piece of thanatite, we may never get it back…”
“Indeed!” I bellow “Every piece is irreplaceable!… This is a relic of your ancestor that you almost just tossed away with your idiotic carelessness!”
“I’m sorry.” she answers, sincerely.
“Don’t be ‘sorry’…” I snarl “…be better!”
No answer returns except more of her downcast eyes.
I give a long, drawn out sigh of frustration before saying “Hand over your quiver…”
Her face snaps up to me, her expression horrified, as she objects “No… Sister! You can’t!… I earned these!”
I bring my face a hands breadth from hers and pull back my lips to reveal my toothplates, hissing aggressively.
She flinches but, fortunately, does not cower from me the way most men would…
“You’ve just unearned them, Karkhal!… Hand. them. over!”
The girl hesitates but, sensibly, decides against challenging me over this.
Looking miserable, she unslings the quiver from her back and pushes it toward me.
I take it and grasp the nine arrows it still contains, removing them to examine.
Three of them are tipped with teeth, two of them are tipped with claws and four of them are tipped with spines.
I replace them along with the two shot into the [dragonbird] bringing the quiver back to a nice, round eleven arrows.
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
I sling it over my back and point to the dead animal “We’re going back. You’re carrying that. When we get back, you are going to the armoury and requesting a quiver of ironwood arrows. You will use them until I deem you worthy to regraduate. Understood?”
Sulking, she answers “I understand, Sister.”
I’m sorely tempted to cuff her around the earhorn for her disrespectful tone… but think better of it.
She already thinks I’m being an unjust monster about this… Further correction today will only make her resent me more!
She spends a minute or so binding the animals wings and limbs before laying it across the crook of her back.
We walk home with her clearly struggling against the animal’s weight.
Tough!
She needs to struggle if she ever hopes to have the strength necessary to survive this cruel world…
No suitor will ever ask for a weak woman to make his broodwife!
The hardness she builds now will serve her well when I’m not here to guide her anymore.
We make it to the shallow part in the meander of the River K’rvakh that protects 3 sides of the city of Khawekh… the capital and largest city of our [empire].
I unsprawl my legs and erect them beneath my body, gaining around a torso’s height in so doing, that I may have as little of myself as possible in contact with the frigid water as I make the ford.
Karkhal is not so lucky.
Not being fully grown, her stiltwalk is not able to even completely lift the slain prey free of the water.
I keep downstream of her, ready to catch her if she should lose her feet and ready to catch it if she should drop the kill.
We make it across and both shake and stamp our legs to help them dry.
Fortunately, being summer, it won’t be long until we warm back up.
Haorken, one of my broodsisters, approaches us.
“Khr’kowan… Father has requested to see you at the Palace.” she states, calmly.
“Thank you, Sister.” I acknowledge.
I don’t ask what it’s regarding.
If that were known to her, she would have volunteered it.
I turn to Karkhal.
“To the Refectory to deposit that…” I point to the [dragonbird] “…I assume you know better than to anger its spirit by falsely claiming credit for killing it!… Then to the armoury with you…”
Still sulking, the girl scuttles away.
Haorken looks to the girl, then to the quiver on my back, then to me.
“She was careless?” she asks.
“She was careless.” I confirm before striding toward the Palace.
Walking up the gravel of Khawekh’s central thoroughfare, the silken tents of my people line my way.
Of course, here and there I see the differing styles of our vassals’ tents.
Traders, diplomats, suitors… there are many reasons people might find themselves in the capital.
I pass by a small man whose dark fur gives him away as a Southeasterner.
He’s flanked by two of his much larger broodsisters who, being women, have no fur to give away their origin. The hair on their heads tells me nothing. Only the style of their clothing and their brother’s fur let me know where their from.
He gives a flirtatious smile and flex of his fangs.
I hiss, aggressively, back and he shrieks in a repulsive mix of terror and delight.
His sisters return my hiss but it comes to nothing, the two of them recognising how significantly outclassed they would be in a fight.
I continue to the looming Palace Tent.
This is the largest building in the known world and took generations to build!
My sisters guarding the entrance make no attempt to waylay me as I pass by.
I stride through the antechamber and cross into the [Throne Room].
My eyes flick upward to the trophy strung from the ceiling that is, at once, the source of my greatest pride… and greatest shame.
An uncanny animal like I’ve never seen nor heard tell of anywhere else.
A once spherical creature that’s hide is made of black armour, tougher than thanatite, with an intricate, rippling pattern.
It’s spindly limbs remain frozen in the position they were in when I killed it.
Attempts were made to butcher it… but were quickly abandoned as a fool's errand.
No smell of rot has ever come from it leading to the chilling notion that it has no flesh inside it!
Beside it is the source of my great shame…
An ironwood javelin, tipped with one of my mother’s feet, shattered to unusable pieces by the force that it impacted the creature with when I shot it from my greatbow!
Thanatite does not last forever… but to break such a young piece so completely is unheard of!
A council had to be called to discuss whether breaking my mother’s foot unfitted me for my command!
It was eventually ruled that I bore no fault, given the nature of the one the shot had killed… Nevertheless, guilt racks me whenever I look upon the shards of my mother.
I tear my eyes down to look at my father.
His brow is topped by a crown of ancient thanatite.
His eyes are milky and blind.
His fur, which still had a little reddish brown in it when I was a girl, is now completely grey with age.
His silk clothes are lined with mammal fur to help stave off the cold.
Beside him sits his latest broodwife, the daughter of one of our Northern vassals and the woman I was going to fetch when I killed the creature hanging from the ceiling.
She’s fat with his latest brood.
Behind him are venerably displayed the skulls of his 17 prior broodwives, stripped of their thanatite fangs, toothplates and teeth.
I spot my mother, hung fourth from last, and say a private apology to her for her foot as I must have done more than 121 times now.
“Father!” I grin (not that he sees that) “You summoned me?”
“I did, Khr’kowan.” he answers, dignified.
“Another suitor, is it? One with a little hardness under his soft this time, I hope(?!)”
“No suitor for you to scare away today, Daughter… I have a task for you and your broodsisters.”
Immediately dropping the joviality, I ask “Of course, Father… Tell me what it is that you require of us.”
The old man clears his throat and answers “There have recently been increased sightings of Vermin in the valley… This morning, I received a report of smoke visible over the Western Hills… I wish for you to take your sisters and drive them off.”
“Of course, Father… You may consider it done.” I say as I turn to leave.