Dirge flattened his ears to drown out the raucous shouts emanating from the ring. A career soldier through and through, the warmonger would have loved to witness the martial bout, but he had more pressing matters to attend to. Strychnine had been uncharacteristically sedate for the past few rotations and it was his familial responsibility to offer her his support.
The warmonger could have easily summoned his adopted sibling using his physic transponder, but Dirge refrained from using his abilities for personal affairs. His stubborn adherence to this principle was incredibly inefficient. Locating somebody in Parabellum through traditional means could take hours.
He got lucky this time. Within ten minutes of searching, he found the saboteur leaning over a railing. A look of forlorn contemplation was written on her face.
“Sister, do you have a moment?”
Strychnine instantly lit upon hearing his voice.
“Of course!” she offered an embrace that Dirge returned, albeit somewhat awkwardly. His knuckles were coated in grit, and he knew the saboteur detested getting her clothes dirty.
“What do you need, Dirge?”
“Actually, I’m here to see if I could help you, sister. I’ve noticed that you've been rather melancholic lately.”
“Ah, that’s sweet of you.” For a moment Dirge thought she would brush off her troubles and drop the subject, but eventually she let out a deep sigh. “That business between Velvet and uncle Zhu is still bothering me.”
Dirge nodded. He was also concerned about his other sisters. All of Zhu’s concubines had taken his rejection poorly. Velvet remained distraught, Natsume composed her poems in silence, and Arnei vented. Although Dirge would never admit it, he was rather cross with his creator.
“The warlord seems to be struggling to adjust to our current situation. I am sure it will all work out eventually,” Dirge said, trying to keep the doubt out of his voice.
“I hope so. Did Velvet ever tell you what uncle said to her?”
“He wanted her to find happiness without him, yes? I don’t entirely understand.”
“I don’t either, but it’s something else that he said that’s really been bothering me.”
“And that is?”
There was a lapse of silence. Dirge patiently waited for his adopted sibling to collect her thoughts.
“Dirge, have you felt any resentment towards uncle Zhu?”
Dirge’s eyes widened. Had she somehow found out about his recent disapproval?
“No, never!”
Dirge’s alarm spread to Strychnine
“I see. Of course. Forget I asked anything.” Understanding dawned on Dirge. He gently grabbed one of her tentacles to prevent her from pulling away from the conversation.
“Speak to me, sister. I promise I won’t judge or tell.”
She squeezed his hand and flashed him a grateful smile.
“Are you happy with the body that uncle Zhu has given you?”
“Yes,” Dirge confirmed immediately.
“I see,” Strychnine responded with a trace of envy.
“Although, I suppose it would have been nice if I had been given a sharper mind.”
“Oh Dirge, don’t say that. You’re very clever.”
Dirge shook his head. “Not compared to my predecessors. You’ve met Dirge II, haven’t you?”
“I did, but I hardly spoke to him.”
“I see. Well, it is an inescapable fact that he and the one before him were better than me.”
“Dirge! Why would you say such a horrible thing about yourself?”
“I see no reason to shield myself from the truth, bitter as it may be,” Dirge shrugged. “I once overheard some transmuters compare me to my predecessors. They said I was built during a resource drought and that the warlord wasn’t able to invest as many resources into me as he did them. I believe their exact words were ‘downgrade’. Their words upset me at the time, but I realized they were not lying. I am a blunt instrument. A tool good for violence and nothing else."
“Well, if you’re a brute, I suppose that makes me an idiot. You are a much better speaker than I am.”
“I am not nearly as eloquent as those that anteceded me. You’ve heard my battle hymns, yes?”
Strychnine nodded. “Yes. Not sure how you are able to come up with so many catchy song in the midst of battle, but they make them a lot more bearable.”
“I cannot take credit for any of them. Dirge I recorded his verses in his journal and his successor composed twice as many. I have contributed nothing. As a matter of fact, I-I can’t even read.”
“You can’t—” Strychrine covered her mouth, scandalized by her own astonished tone and the shame it brought Dirge.
“I needed sister Natsume’s help to memorize the lines. She and sister Sarin tried to teach me how to read, but I can’t keep the letters in my head.” He refrained from mentioning Sarin's suspicions that Zhulong had saddled him with a learning disorder to save on heart stones. Dirge initially dismissed that theory out of hand. When it came to creating synths, Zhulong was widely considered one of the most 'wasteful' devourers after all. If his creator really had been forced to resort to such drastic cost-saving measures, surely he would have given Dirge a more benign condition such as color blindness? "The warlord says he expects this moon to be more peaceful than the others, but I do not know if I am suited for a life without war.”
“Oh, Dirge.”
He turned to look his sister in the eye. “Do not misunderstand me. I do not pity myself. I am very lucky. Many would trade their hands for a body and abilities as potent as mine. It is just nice to speak of these things with someone else.” He shot her a meaningful look. “I suppose your grievances with your body are greater than my own?”
Her sigh was answer enough. “I used to be so beautiful. Humans and BLACK lords couldn’t keep their eyes off me.” The nostalgia in her eyes dimmed when she glanced down at her tentacles and the gaping beaks jutting from her belly. “Now they turn them away from me.”
“I still think you’re beautiful.”
Strychnine let out an amused snort. “You think everything is beautiful.”
Dirge conceded that point with a grunt. Disdain and revulsion had no place in his heart. He tried to find appreciation in all things and showed respect to every life form he came across, even if his duties demanded he’d extinguish many of them.
“I am grateful that uncle Zhu took me in when Toothless aband-when he stopped waking up, but I wish he didn’t change me.”
“Perhaps you can ask him to reverse those changes?”
Strychnine shook her head. “My modifications cost him so many heart stones. I can’t make that request in good conscience, especially now when we are so pressed for resources. And,” she hesitated, but finished her statement when Dirge encouraged her with a wave of his hand. “I couldn’t bear the thought of disappointing him.”
“I understand. I don’t know if there is anything I can do to help you with this problem, but know that I am always willing to lend you my ear whenever you need it, sister.”
“Thank you, Dirge. That means a lot to me.”
A long lapse of silence passed between them. Simply standing beside his sibling brought Dirge joy and he would have happily kept her company for hours, but honor demanded that he break the peace.
“Since you shared your secret with me, I have my own confession to make. Two, in fact.”
“What is it?”
“I was glad when that Toothless left,” Dirge winced at the hurt and anger that flared in Strychrine’s eyes. He pressed on before her offense grew. “I always felt out of place before the warlord adopted you. The den mothers were always occupied and while Aldrin always treated me kindly, I could never hold his interest for more than a few minutes. I remember being overjoyed when sister Sarin was born and put under my tutelage, but she quickly outpaced me and she rarely has time to speak to me anymore. Although we were born to different creators, I have always felt closest to you. It always shamed me how I benefited from your heartbreak.” He looked up when he heard a loud sniff and prepared himself for a stinging slap but relaxed when arms and tentacles wrapped around him.
“Your dear too me too, brother. I am not sure I would have been able to handle Toothless’ disappearance if you hadn’t been there for me.”
The blow Dirge thought he had avoided came when tears started dripping from his sister's eyes.
“Damn it, Dirge!” she giggled as she wiped her eyes and playfully slapped his shoulder again. “You ruined my makeup!”
“I am sorry.”
His sister laughed again. “I’m just kidding! Now, what was that other secret you wanted to share?”
Dirge’s ears reddened. “I-I must admit, I was always envious that the warlord refers to himself as your uncle, but never calls me his son.” He blinked in surprise when his sister kissed his forehead, but quickly nuzzled her cheek in return.
Strychnine looked at him with adoring eyes. “You are as compassionate and loyal as you are brave. Any devourer would be proud to call you their son. I don’t doubt that uncle will one day acknowledge you as such.”
******
“Man, this is painful to watch. Almost as painful as the idea of me being a dad,” Zhu said to himself as he watched Striga pummel Shrike with a pair of wooden bucklers. The carakhan could have defeated Shrike fifteen minutes ago, but she was deliberately dragging these now one-sided bouts out.
“On the subject of unwanted parenthood, Shrike, you might want to consider pulling out before she finishes pounding you. The protection I gave you is good, but I can’t guarantee that it will save you from life-altering consequences. Life-altering consequences, in this case, being a euphemism for brain damage.”
Shrike would have responded with an invective if she weren’t putting all her energy into defending herself from Striga’s onslaught. She strove to fight back, but her muscles felt like they were submerged in mud. Her spear thrusts slowed to a crawl now that Striga was almost exclusively pummeling her arms. By the eighteenth round, she could hardly move them.
“I told you, I would beat you to an inch of your life,” Striga hissed.
Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.
“You’re not doing a very good job. I’m still standing.”
Striga actually laughed. “I see that the archduke’s humor has rubbed off on you.”
The carakhan easily dodged a spirited but pathetically slow swing. She didn’t avoid the glob of bloodied spit aimed at her beak.
“No it hasn’t!” Shrike snarled. “I am not like you. I am my own person! I’m not just an extension of his will.”
“She will be soon enough.” Shrike’s head whipped towards the drunk akhlut that had loudly blurted that statement to one of its companions. Stars danced across her vision when a reinforced rim slammed into her temple a moment later.
“Okay, we're done here,” Zhu announced as Shrike toppled over.
“I can keep going,” Shrike growled.
Zhu rolled his eyes. “I get it. Calling quits is embarrassing, but if you keep taking hits on the noggin, I am going to have to hire a nurse to change your underwear for you. Now that would be humiliating.”
As Zhu slung Shrike over his shoulder, there was a smattering of applause. Shrike turned her eyes away from the crowd. She doubted that any directed towards her were genuine. Her breath hitched once they were halfway to the infirmary.
“What’s with the sad noises? You did pretty well, all things considered.”
“She crushed me!” Shrike hissed. “I got flung around like an infant! I didn’t even last the whole twenty rounds!”
“Well, Striga was like five times your size and an experienced soldier to boot. Just holding your own was a win in its own right. Your biggest mistake was not cutting your losses when she wore you down. Pretty sure I told you that carakhans were endurance champions. Honestly, a lot of the zealots seemed impressed that you scored at all.”
“My strength was the only thing that got me any sliver of respect from my clan. Now I have nothing.”
Zhu actually glanced back at her that time. “What are you talking about? They treat you like royalty now. It’s kind of creepy really.”
“Only because of you! I don’t want to just be remembered as the girl that melded with you!”
Shrike may not have cared about how many eyes she was drawing at the moment, but Zhu did. His head jerked in all directions. He sighed in relief when it became apparent the only beings that heard her couldn’t understand zostian.
“Well, I am not a doctor, but you seem a bit too lively to be having a concussion. So, let’s go ahead and have a chat in my room. I’ll order up some food, plop you down on the super squishy bed, and distract ourselves from the blunt realities of life!”
Zhu’s tone was considerably less chipper once he sequestered her.
“Look, I know I am really not in a position to judge anyone for a lack of discretion and that you’re not in a good state of mind right now, but next time, do a better job of remembering our deal the next time you have a mental breakdown.”
“Fuck your deal!” Shrike snarled. “You have all the power in this-“ she searched for a word that could describe their dynamic and came up empty. “Whatever this is! You can easily have me killed if I step out of line, but what could I possibly do if you go back on your end?”
“Well, I haven’t so far. I might be an asshole that has all the cards, but so far, I’d say I given you a fair shake. But let’s drop this drama before I accidentally step on a landmine and go back to addressing what set you off in the first place. Why exactly are you so bummed out about losing to the seven-foot-tall raider that could kick a tiger to death? I mean, sure, it would have been sick if you won, because everyone roots for the underdog, but nobody is going to look down on you for losing that fight.”
“My father slew a herd of dobuwanas and a score of neanderthals single handedly. I lost to a bird.”
“Trust me, when my birds are kitted out with guns and proper weapons, they are way deadlier than a bunch of elephants.” Zhu tugged his barbels in annoyance when Shrike continued to pick at the laces on her greaves.
“Okay, let’s nip this insecurity issue in the bud before it takes root and causes us problems down the line later. Sure, your dad was pretty badass, but he had a lot of time to get good at killing stuff. I guarantee he got his ass whooped throughout his life. Everyone does. Nobody just cartwheels out of the womb and starts taking names. We all pop out as babies that piss and shit themselves. You want to hear a really humiliating loss? There was this one time when I tried raiding an enemy farming outpost by myself. Problem is, I forgot to bring any food with me and started running out of fuel fast. So, when I finally managed to get my hands into the cookie jar, I got gang beat by their giant guard kangaroos. Later on, I kidnapped the one that cracked my skull open. His name’s Flint and he still dropkicks me whenever I take him out of the storage cube.”
As Zhu spoke, a reenactment of that event played in her head. She snickered as she watched the pseudowyrm get defenestrated by a fifteen-hundred-pound marsupial. Her mirth grew when Zhu laughed alongside her.
“Point is, everybody ends up with egg on their face sometime or the other. Today, you didn’t even get that. You just bit off more than you could chew. Now stop moping so I can end this pep talk. I think this might be the first time I did something like this, and it feels super gay.”
Shrike smirked, astonished that he lifted her mood.
“You’re planning on becoming a god, aren’t you?” she reminded him. “Well, you’re never going to develop a cult if you don’t learn how to inspire and encourage your followers. You should look at this as a chance to practice.”
Zhu clacked his jaws. “Alright, fine. But this is a onetime thing, understand? You ready for things to get awkward? Well, here it comes.” Shrike rolled her eyes when he inhaled dramatically. “You’re better than me in pretty much every way.”
Shrike blinked up at him, unable to think of what to say in response.
“Don’t be too surprised. Most people are,” Zhu stated without a trace of consternation or self-loathing. “But you’re probably the most impressive person I’ve personally met. While you were fending for yourself and braving the wilderness, I was just faffing about aimlessly. I could have never survived in your position. Probably would have killed myself by my fourteenth birthday. If I can look at my reflection without shying away, you can walk around with your head held high.”
Shrike rubbed her head in embarrassment as she absorbed his words. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Good, I don’t want to hear it. God, is this what receiving gratitude feels like? It’s so gross. I am going to have to bully somebody to get the taste of it out of my mouth.” He glanced at her dented breastplate. “I take it you want to get out of that armor but don’t want my pervy hands touching you, right?” He snickered when she nodded. “Who do you want me to send your way? An ophidian? A zobaka?”
Another embarrassed flush lit Shrike’s cheeks. “There’s someone named Merlin that I’d like to see.”
“I am guessing this is a dude we’re talking about. Well, if you’re planning on rocking his world, make sure you don’t romp around on the extra squishy bed. I like that one.”
“Zhu!”
“Hah, just kidding. I actually don’t mind if you get any of them dirty.” A lecherous tongue flick followed his whisper. When he spoke again, his voice became absurdly husky. “In fact, I’d love to lick those sheets clean.”
“Zhu!” Shrike shouted louder.
“Hah kidding! Oh god, I think I actually grossed myself out that time. I’ll send him your way.”
Shrike buried her head beneath a pillow once the pseudowyrm left. He had erased the shame of her defeat, but now a different type of mortification was setting in. She let out a groan when she realized how much ammunition she had given him for the future.
Shrike bolted upright when someone knocked on the gate.
“Hello, the archduke sent for me. May I come in?”
Shrike rushed out the door and quickly locked it.
“Actually, I’d prefer if we could go somewhere else. I don’t think it would be appropriate for us to linger in his room.” She had been so distracted by her own, she didn’t realize until now what an appalling oversight it would have been to permit him entry into that horrifying room. It was beyond her why Zhu saw no issue in allowing a stranger to see his grisly decorum. At that moment, she felt a pang of sympathy for Sarin.
“Of course. Where would you like to go?” Merlin asked.
They headed to the conference room. It was one of the few locations that was completely unoccupied at the moment.
“You were amazing back there,” Merlin told her as he helped her out of her cuirass.
Shrike raised a bruised brow. “I was thrashed.”
“No, you weren’t. You put up an admirable fight.”
“Maybe at the beginning.”
“Nobody will look down on you for losing. None of us would have stood a chance against that beast.”
They continued to whittle away the time with small talk. Throughout these conversations, Merlin kept slipping in compliments that Shrike modestly deflected. As their rapport became more animated, Shrike’s confidence grew, and she even attempted to make a joke, “Well I guess one nice thing about being tossed around is I now know what flying feels like.”
It wasn’t a particularly strong jape, but Merlin went into hysterics. His obnoxious laughter trailed off when her eyes cut into his. Her attraction to him may have softened her senses, but they hadn’t left her entirely. That wasn’t the only gaffe he made. As the two began broaching heavier topics, she noticed how lightly he treaded and how quick he was to apologize when he thought he irritated her in the slightest. When Merlin suffered his fifth verbal stumble, Shrike decided to take a page from Zhu.
“Merlin,” she said sharply to stem his long-winded apology for spilling his drink. “I like you.”
It alarmed her how rapidly Merlin toggled between groveling panic and smooth confidence.
“I do too,” he declared, grabbing her hand to emphasize his words.
Shrike tried to ignore the skip in her heart. “That makes me happy. But if I find out that you are courting me just to elevate your own status, I will geld you in your sleep.” She felt a flicker of anger when his smile dipped.
“Of course, that’s not the case!” he stammered.
“Choose your words carefully. If that is one of your aims and you admit it now, I swear to Kanghui that I will not hold a grudge.”
Merlin looked away.
“I see,” Shrike said coolly. “Thank you for keeping me company. Please do me another favor and bring my armor back to the ring.”
When Merlin slinked away, Shrike slammed her fist against the table.
******
Word spread fast. By morning, the other zeraphs heard about Merlin’s failed seduction attempt and gave Shrike a wide berth. For once, she didn’t mind the isolation. She matched through Parabellum with determined purpose, her keen eyes searching for something. Her golden irises settled on a furry creature snoring the day away. She grabbed the alcohol-sodden creature by its shoulders and jolted it awake.
“What did you mean back there?” Tracking down the akhlut that had distracted her during the match was surprisingly easy. Although she couldn’t tell one of his kind from another, her search had become trivial when she learned that only their leader had access to the brewery during these trying times.
At first, Thrugg tried to deny that he said anything, brushing his statement off as just drunken commentary. The hungover proto whale gave in when Shrike started banging her sword against a buckler.
“Alright, alright. I’ll fess up! I said something! Damn me and my loudmouth! Just wanted to have a good time with me mates an’ now I am getting’ interrogated by one the archduke’s pets.”
“I am not his pet!” she declared. “Now tell me what you meant!”
“Confound it, lass! I am surprised you haven’t figured it out yerself! You caught the interest of a subjugator! Sorry for yer loss, now quit shakin’ me!”
He let out a stream of colorful curses when she proceeded to do the exact opposite. “Are you suggesting that he’s-that he’s—”
“Brainwashing you?” Thrugg pulled himself out of her grasp. “Yes.”
“No. No. He told me there were three ways he could enslave creatures. He hasn’t lobotomized me, he hasn’t drugged me, and he hasn’t sung to me while I slept.”
“How would you know about the last part?” Thrugg snarked.
She glared at him. “I am a light sleeper. Besides, he told me that indoctrination is not effective against adult beings.”
“It’s less effective,” Thrugg corrected. “Dem blackbloods always have been impatient and ruthlessly inefficient. Why waste three months trying to indoctrinate grieving fathers and mudders when dey could just kidnap their infants and turn them into dutiful zealots? But make no mistake, if a subjugator really wants to hypnotize someone, they can do it, regardless of their age.”
Shrike backed away. “You’re lying.”
“Why would I lie? I wasn’t even gonna talk to ya till ya raped me ears with that racket! The smart thing to do would be to just smile and nod and tell ya that everything is fine! But no! Sentimental Thrugg always has to give advice to every lad or lass with a sob story!”
Shrike buried her face in her hands as his blunt logic sunk in. She opened her eyes when the stench of alcohol assaulted her nose. Thrugg had thrust the tip of his canteen between gaps of her fingers. Shrike reluctantly took a sip of its pungent contents. It tasted even worse than it smelt, yet the buzz that shot through her system compelled her to suck down another mouthful.
“Tell me, lass, do ya still hear dem awful squeals when he talks?”
She slowly nodded.
“Well, I suppose that’s a good sign. Thing is, the longer you stick with him, the more bearable it will sound. I tried to stay as far away from him an’ the rest of his ilk as I could, but even though I hardly had anything to do with dem, their powers still changed me. When I first heard the archduke talk, I couldn’t sleep for days. A few months later, it didn’t sound so bad. Within a year, it started to grow on me.” He took a long quaff from his canteen and looked up at her with hollow eyes. “Now, it sounds downright lovely.”
“But you still hate him, don’t you?”
Thrugg shot her a measured gaze. His webbed fingers slowly curled until they formed a fist. “Aye. I do. I am sure he realizes that by now, but just in case I’d appreciate it if you kept that to yerself.” He let out a grunt of approval when she nodded. “Maybe the Worm is lying to you about not trying to brainwash you, or maybe he just doesn’t realize how potent his powers are. Wouldn’t surprise me if he didn’t. Dat one has always been a fool. But, I am certain of this, constantly sticking close to him like you are doing now will do something to yer brain. Might takes years—might take decades—but I suspect dat in the end the results are the same. You’ll be singing his praises.”
A flurry of emotions rolled through Shrike. She doubted Zhu was deliberately deceiving her, but perhaps her knee jerk reaction was proof that he had already corrupted her. Then again, the akhlut was hardly a neutral party, and didn’t know Zhulong like she did. But as the akhlut said earlier, he had no reason to lie to her.
“If you’re right, what do you suggest I do?” Shrike blurted out.
“Ya got two choices; accept yer fate or kill yerself.”
“I would hardly call those choices.”
Thrugg was about to give her a comforting pat on the shoulder, but thought better of it. “Perhaps it ain’t so bad. Being brainwashed, I mean.”
“How so?” Shrike spat.
In response, he pointed to a pair of zobaka zealots patrolling the walls.
“Look at dem. S’long as one of their masters is around, they are fulfilled. Like a bunch of dumb puppies. I’d hate to end up like dat but in a way I am jealous of dem. Must be nice to always have a sense of purpose.” He paused to chug down another slosh of kilju. “Perhaps we’d both be better off if we just swallowed our pride and accept dat free will ain’t what it’s cracked out to be, eh?”