“How much longer are we going to be stuck waiting here for something to happen?” Lothar stands by the doors of the ruins, watching over the destroyed camp. It has been scavenged for whatever can be saved, but there are still a few torn tents hanging around, and Grey has taken up residence in one of them.
I sit with the undead man, his slick fur makes him look anything but the monster that he was. With a little work, we fashioned together a loincloth dress sort of thing to get him looking a little cleaner.
His kind called themselves moon-blessed in his own tongue. Their magics infect those that they bite, using something like healing to change a person’s body into the form of a moon-blessed person. It’s a very meaningful ritual when someone new is brought into the tribe, they tend carefully to those in the transition, where fur sprouts from their skin and they lose their last body, but now…
How many people out there are slowly changing into moon-blessed, while they lose their minds to the other disease that the cruel vampire seeded into them? I grit my teeth and bite my lip to keep down the growl forming deep in my chest.
How many families are being torn apart? How many villages burnt down? How many children are going to become twisted evil monsters that kill the people trying to save them?
My focus slips and the æther channel I’m carving into Grey nearly breaks. I carefully weave it back along its proper path before finishing up with it. My training is helping, but I still have so much more to learn.
“Theo said that it would just be a few more days,” Adeleya replies to Lothar, standing by his side where neither can see Grey and I. “The researchers are planning to write everything down before using their time on the road to translate it all. Much as I hate to admit it, they’re working hard down there.”
“Yeah, but still…” Lothar looks down at the ground, kicking at the dirt. “Why are we still doing this? We know that this is well outside of our grade of work, so why are we still digging at this?”
“What’s gotten into you?” Adeleya asks. “You were more than eager to chase this idea when we came out here.”
“I…” Lothar’s voice trails away, and even without looking, I can tell he’s playing with that coin of his again.
“We can’t just leave it alone,” Adeleya shakes her head. “We need to find out what it is they’re after so that we know what to do to save our town from more trouble. Seeing what they’ve done to the capital… If there’s something we can do, just understanding their motives for messing around near Snowspring could be enough to help us save lives.”
“Oh, so we just throw some old elvish trinket at the throne and they’ll leave us alone?” Lothar asks. “They want Cildr, the ruins, the æther, it doesn’t matter. We should leave the ruins to them and tell every villager nearby to just run.”
“What if they come for Snowspring next?” Adeleya asks. “Look at what they’ve done with those creatures that attacked us last night. They were people, Lothar. They were kidnapped and made into monsters to slaughter tens of thousands, for what? Why?
“Unless we know something, then we can’t know when or where this will happen next,” Adeleya says. “It’s better than doing nothing.”
“We could just leave.”
Adeleya and I both turn to look at him, me poking my head out of the tent just to make sure my mind isn’t playing tricks on me. He wants to run before the bandits even come, which… it’s not a bad plan, but it’s not a good feeling to leave it all behind, knowing that everyone is going to die.
Running away, and leaving everyone for dead… I can’t do it again.
“No,” I shake my head and hide back in the tent.
“She’s right, we’re not letting these villains ruin our home.” My chest burns, as I hear my feelings reflected in Adeleya’s words. “We’ll just do what we can, alright. No big risks, just carefully solving a mystery and then figuring out how to keep them away from our home.”
“It’s just…” Lothar sighs, long and tired. “I don’t want to see any of us dying for this.”
“Lothar…” Adeleya reaches out and squeezes his hand. I feel a bit out of place here with them, so I keep my head down as I lean against Grey’s side. He needs more power to survive, and I wanted to fix him up before his daughter sees him again.
Lothar and Adeleya whisper something to each other, so quietly that I can’t hear them. They’ve been like that more and more lately, and as much as I can’t blame them, I’m jealous. I’m lonely.
They’re falling in love, and seeing them like this just reminds me of Rea. What sort of relationship would we have by now if I didn’t have to leave? She’d accept me for everything that I am, and she’d hold me when I’m feeling lonely. She’d train with me, and we’d get stronger together so that we’d never have to be separated.
I lean my back against Grey’s side and he wraps an arm around me, cuddling me as he does for Namor. It’s almost comforting, but seeing my own face reflected in his dark eyes whenever I glance up, I pull myself free from his arms and sit up straighter.
I have to protect them. Adeleya and Lothar have done so much for me, they care for me and they’ve protected me, and I don’t want them to die like everyone else. Maybe it would be better if they all just ran away and left Snowspring and Cildr behind.
Grey rubs at my shoulder, acting the same as the man that he once was, slouching the same, waving his hands around the same, and breathing the same. Cleaned up and healed enough to hide the deep cuts through his flesh, and still acting like the man that he was, you can barely even tell that something is missing.
This way, Namor won’t have to be alone.
“Syr!” Nadia cries out, her voice echoing from the ruins. “She’s awake.”
It takes me only a second to free myself from the makeshift tent and sprint for the entrance. Slowing as I pass by Adeleya.
“We’re fine out here!” She leans against Lothar’s side, patting me on the back as I move past. “Go on, go help her. Try not to make the same mistake I did when we first met. We don’t need her getting worked up attacking anyone.”
“Thank you,” I say, leaping down the stairs and pausing at the bottom. “Thank you,” I repeat not knowing what else to say. She’s helped me so much, and I’ve only been trouble for her and the others. A dangerous necromancer that could bring them all death, a brat that doesn’t even know how to write, even though I’m an adult.
Why did they help me back then?
Because they didn’t want to see me hurting. They didn’t want to abandon me in the wild. They cared for me, and they still do.
I choke down the rising warmth spreading through me, as I race down into the depths to do the same for someone else that needs help. So that I can be someone she can rely on too.
I don’t think about anything other than that, racing down to see her.
Racing through the halls that are already familiar, it takes me only a moment to reach Namor’s door. It’s closed and locked, but I can hear something moving inside. I can hear her inside.
Alone.
I activate the door, impatient for the half a second it takes for the stone to slide out of the way and reveal the mostly empty room with a huddled bundle of fur in the far corner.
I rush in, closing the door behind me, stopping my approach only when a pair of terrified eyes stare back at me. A quiet whine escapes her as she panics, looking for somewhere to hide and finding nothing.
Her snout, like that of a wolf but deep black, is split by a long scar down the side of it. She’s covered in thick fur from her head to her toes, and the vicious claws on her hands and feet are just as mean as they look. Other scars show from between the healthy bits of fur, and her long fangs shine from between her lips, still wet with blood.
She’s nothing like a monster.
Her shimmering eyes are wet with tears, and she’s quivering in place as I try to get closer.
“Namor,” I say her name and she blinks up at me, shuddering as she tries to push herself back through the stone to get away from me.
She spent her sixth birthday in a cage, slowly losing her sanity. Shortly after she was let loose, and I’m sure that she killed people out there. Does she remember it?
How old was I when I was left to survive alone in the wild?
“Clothes,” I say, rushing back to the door and bringing over the pile of clothes that I bartered from the researchers. Her kind doesn’t need clothes as much as humans and elves do, and some choose to go without, but Namor likes to dress up pretty.
That, and the vampire stripped them of anything that a person would have. In their cages, they couldn’t avoid the dirt and filth staining them all.
Even animals live with more pride than that.
“It’s okay,” I say but she doesn’t understand me.
Her tribe live far to the north. Somewhere on the edge of the great eastern mountain ranges, but far to the north of our kingdom. They don’t speak the same language up there. They speak a little differently from the norkit tribes, too. That’s what Grey remembers.
“Clothes,” I repeat, stealing the word from her father’s undead mind. “They’re a gift.”
I put them on the ground, and back away.
“You are safe. You are free,” I say, standing by the door, twisting my fingers one by one as I grit my teeth.
I don’t know what to do now that she’s awake. All that’s important is that she survived and that she’s not alone, but now…
“Papa…” She calls, hesitantly reaching out for the clothes while keeping eye contact with me. “Where’s Papa?”
“Guarding camp,” I say, sitting down and meeting her eyes, drawing my words from Grey’s mind. If his head gets damaged I’m going to lose all of this understanding, I need to be careful with him for more reasons than one. “We’ll go meet him soon.”
How much should I say? How much would she understand?
She’s too young to be alone, and it’s not as if Grey is gone entirely. I freeze up, memories whirring to life in my mind as I stare back into my mother’s eyes in the moment she died. I brought her back for a few moments before she became ash. All because I was too weak.
“Safe? We’re safe? Not sick?”
“I healed you,” I say, sitting taller and smiling proudly over at her.
“Healer? Healed Papa too?” She asks, relaxing a little and throwing a dress over her head. She bares her teeth in frustration, looking down at herself. She’s a complete mess.
“Clean up? Bath?” I ask, inviting her away. She hesitantly stands and follows me.
“Papa?”
“After,” I say as Grey rushes about to clean up camp and prepare for meeting her again. We’re not ready. Nothing is ready, but it’s better this way than doing nothing at all.
Leading her through the glowing halls, I keep a lookout for any other people crossing paths with us.
I’m not stupid. I’ve warned the others about her already, but I also know that they’re going to panic when they see her walking free, even though I already warned them. I’ve already got one sword drawn, ready to scare away trouble. If Namor finds any issue with my weapon, then she’s not saying anything staying close but still too afraid of me.
She doesn’t know many people who aren’t moon-blessed, so I’m sure that I’m strange to her. She’s still scared, even though she’s pretending not to be.
She’s strong. She’ll be okay.
The first group of people we cross take in the sight of us with a quiet gasp, but my glare is enough to keep them from saying anything stupid. The way Namor huddles at their glances makes me squirm but it’s not surprising that she’ll be scared of a few strangers. They’ll get used to each other after a while of living together.
We don’t say anything to the researchers, and they don’t say anything to us, we stare each other down until we leave each other behind.
The baths down here are an artifact from the old elvish empire, and they still mostly work. Thankfully there’s no one else down here, and we have the space to ourselves for now.
While I get the brushes and soaps, Namor explores the room, stepping lightly but not afraid to toy with various switches. She jumps as she activates a tap, sending the water pouring down into a long channel which heats the water before pooling into a wide tub.
I don’t have all the right brushes and combs, but I can make do so long as Grey shows me how to do this. With a little encouragement, I get her to sit down and start cleaning up, helping her with the hair on her head and back. Washing my own back is trouble enough, but if it was covered in knotted fur?
She’s stiff and nervous but after a few minutes she settles down, then as she relaxes, she starts to whine. It’s not crying the same as we do, there aren’t as many tears, but instead, she holds herself tight as she lets her pain out in long pained cries.
I hold her until she stops.
“Papa?” She whispers, and I can’t find another good reason to stop her.
“There is one thing,” I say, having already pulled together the words for this speech. “Your Papa was hurt badly, but he’s still going to be here for you, okay? You’re not going to be alone.”
“You didn’t heal Papa?”
“I’m still trying,” I say, slouching down.
Namor panics, looking all around before taking my hand and bouncing in place.
“Thank you. Thank you for healing us,” she says in a rush. “Don’t feel bad. You saved us.
“I… thank you.”
She shakes her head. “Thank you.”
The light of the sun shines down on us as we step out of the bright ruins. Grey steps out of the tent and Namor races down to him. They embrace each other, and as he lifts her and swings her around as he always does, she starts laughing, then crying.
“Everything is well,” He whispers, holding her tight.
Adeleya rests a hand on my shoulder, looking at the pair and biting her lip. Lothar steps up by her side and they share a look that I can’t understand.
“Papa, why are you so cold?”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
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“How much longer are we going to be stuck waiting here for something to happen?” Lothar stands by the doors of the ruins, watching over the destroyed camp. It has been scavenged for whatever can be saved, but there are still a few torn tents hanging around, and Grey has taken up residence in one of them.
I sit with the undead man, his slick fur makes him look anything but the monster that he was. With a little work, we fashioned together a loincloth dress sort of thing to get him looking a little cleaner.
His kind called themselves moon-blessed in his own tongue. Their magics infect those that they bite, using something like healing to change a person’s body into the form of a moon-blessed person. It’s a very meaningful ritual when someone new is brought into the tribe, they tend carefully to those in the transition, where fur sprouts from their skin and they lose their last body, but now…
How many people out there are slowly changing into moon-blessed, while they lose their minds to the other disease that the cruel vampire seeded into them? I grit my teeth and bite my lip to keep down the growl forming deep in my chest.
How many families are being torn apart? How many villages burnt down? How many children are going to become twisted evil monsters that kill the people trying to save them?
My focus slips and the æther channel I’m carving into Grey nearly breaks. I carefully weave it back along its proper path before finishing up with it. My training is helping, but I still have so much more to learn.
“Theo said that it would just be a few more days,” Adeleya replies to Lothar, standing by his side where neither can see Grey and I. “The researchers are planning to write everything down before using their time on the road to translate it all. Much as I hate to admit it, they’re working hard down there.”
“Yeah, but still…” Lothar looks down at the ground, kicking at the dirt. “Why are we still doing this? We know that this is well outside of our grade of work, so why are we still digging at this?”
“What’s gotten into you?” Adeleya asks. “You were more than eager to chase this idea when we came out here.”
“I…” Lothar’s voice trails away, and even without looking, I can tell he’s playing with that coin of his again.
“We can’t just leave it alone,” Adeleya shakes her head. “We need to find out what it is they’re after so that we know what to do to save our town from more trouble. Seeing what they’ve done to the capital… If there’s something we can do, just understanding their motives for messing around near Snowspring could be enough to help us save lives.”
“Oh, so we just throw some old elvish trinket at the throne and they’ll leave us alone?” Lothar asks. “They want Cildr, the ruins, the æther, it doesn’t matter. We should leave the ruins to them and tell every villager nearby to just run.”
“What if they come for Snowspring next?” Adeleya asks. “Look at what they’ve done with those creatures that attacked us last night. They were people, Lothar. They were kidnapped and made into monsters to slaughter tens of thousands, for what? Why?
“Unless we know something, then we can’t know when or where this will happen next,” Adeleya says. “It’s better than doing nothing.”
“We could just leave.”
Adeleya and I both turn to look at him, me poking my head out of the tent just to make sure my mind isn’t playing tricks on me. He wants to run before the bandits even come, which… it’s not a bad plan, but it’s not a good feeling to leave it all behind, knowing that everyone is going to die.
Running away, and leaving everyone for dead… I can’t do it again.
“No,” I shake my head and hide back in the tent.
“She’s right, we’re not letting these villains ruin our home.” My chest burns, as I hear my feelings reflected in Adeleya’s words. “We’ll just do what we can, alright. No big risks, just carefully solving a mystery and then figuring out how to keep them away from our home.”
“It’s just…” Lothar sighs, long and tired. “I don’t want to see any of us dying for this.”
“Lothar…” Adeleya reaches out and squeezes his hand. I feel a bit out of place here with them, so I keep my head down as I lean against Grey’s side. He needs more power to survive, and I wanted to fix him up before his daughter sees him again.
Lothar and Adeleya whisper something to each other, so quietly that I can’t hear them. They’ve been like that more and more lately, and as much as I can’t blame them, I’m jealous. I’m lonely.
They’re falling in love, and seeing them like this just reminds me of Rea. What sort of relationship would we have by now if I didn’t have to leave? She’d accept me for everything that I am, and she’d hold me when I’m feeling lonely. She’d train with me, and we’d get stronger together so that we’d never have to be separated.
I lean my back against Grey’s side and he wraps an arm around me, cuddling me as he does for Namor. It’s almost comforting, but seeing my own face reflected in his dark eyes whenever I glance up, I pull myself free from his arms and sit up straighter.
I have to protect them. Adeleya and Lothar have done so much for me, they care for me and they’ve protected me, and I don’t want them to die like everyone else. Maybe it would be better if they all just ran away and left Snowspring and Cildr behind.
Grey rubs at my shoulder, acting the same as the man that he once was, slouching the same, waving his hands around the same, and breathing the same. Cleaned up and healed enough to hide the deep cuts through his flesh, and still acting like the man that he was, you can barely even tell that something is missing.
This way, Namor won’t have to be alone.
“Syr!” Nadia cries out, her voice echoing from the ruins. “She’s awake.”
It takes me only a second to free myself from the makeshift tent and sprint for the entrance. Slowing as I pass by Adeleya.
“We’re fine out here!” She leans against Lothar’s side, patting me on the back as I move past. “Go on, go help her. Try not to make the same mistake I did when we first met. We don’t need her getting worked up attacking anyone.”
“Thank you,” I say, leaping down the stairs and pausing at the bottom. “Thank you,” I repeat not knowing what else to say. She’s helped me so much, and I’ve only been trouble for her and the others. A dangerous necromancer that could bring them all death, a brat that doesn’t even know how to write, even though I’m an adult.
Why did they help me back then?
Because they didn’t want to see me hurting. They didn’t want to abandon me in the wild. They cared for me, and they still do.
I choke down the rising warmth spreading through me, as I race down into the depths to do the same for someone else that needs help. So that I can be someone she can rely on too.
I don’t think about anything other than that, racing down to see her.
Racing through the halls that are already familiar, it takes me only a moment to reach Namor’s door. It’s closed and locked, but I can hear something moving inside. I can hear her inside.
Alone.
I activate the door, impatient for the half a second it takes for the stone to slide out of the way and reveal the mostly empty room with a huddled bundle of fur in the far corner.
I rush in, closing the door behind me, stopping my approach only when a pair of terrified eyes stare back at me. A quiet whine escapes her as she panics, looking for somewhere to hide and finding nothing.
Her snout, like that of a wolf but deep black, is split by a long scar down the side of it. She’s covered in thick fur from her head to her toes, and the vicious claws on her hands and feet are just as mean as they look. Other scars show from between the healthy bits of fur, and her long fangs shine from between her lips, still wet with blood.
She’s nothing like a monster.
Her shimmering eyes are wet with tears, and she’s quivering in place as I try to get closer.
“Namor,” I say her name and she blinks up at me, shuddering as she tries to push herself back through the stone to get away from me.
She spent her sixth birthday in a cage, slowly losing her sanity. Shortly after she was let loose, and I’m sure that she killed people out there. Does she remember it?
How old was I when I was left to survive alone in the wild?
“Clothes,” I say, rushing back to the door and bringing over the pile of clothes that I bartered from the researchers. Her kind doesn’t need clothes as much as humans and elves do, and some choose to go without, but Namor likes to dress up pretty.
That, and the vampire stripped them of anything that a person would have. In their cages, they couldn’t avoid the dirt and filth staining them all.
Even animals live with more pride than that.
“It’s okay,” I say but she doesn’t understand me.
Her tribe live far to the north. Somewhere on the edge of the great eastern mountain ranges, but far to the north of our kingdom. They don’t speak the same language up there. They speak a little differently from the norkit tribes, too. That’s what Grey remembers.
“Clothes,” I repeat, stealing the word from her father’s undead mind. “They’re a gift.”
I put them on the ground, and back away.
“You are safe. You are free,” I say, standing by the door, twisting my fingers one by one as I grit my teeth.
I don’t know what to do now that she’s awake. All that’s important is that she survived and that she’s not alone, but now…
“Papa…” She calls, hesitantly reaching out for the clothes while keeping eye contact with me. “Where’s Papa?”
“Guarding camp,” I say, sitting down and meeting her eyes, drawing my words from Grey’s mind. If his head gets damaged I’m going to lose all of this understanding, I need to be careful with him for more reasons than one. “We’ll go meet him soon.”
How much should I say? How much would she understand?
She’s too young to be alone, and it’s not as if Grey is gone entirely. I freeze up, memories whirring to life in my mind as I stare back into my mother’s eyes in the moment she died. I brought her back for a few moments before she became ash. All because I was too weak.
“Safe? We’re safe? Not sick?”
“I healed you,” I say, sitting taller and smiling proudly over at her.
“Healer? Healed Papa too?” She asks, relaxing a little and throwing a dress over her head. She bares her teeth in frustration, looking down at herself. She’s a complete mess.
“Clean up? Bath?” I ask, inviting her away. She hesitantly stands and follows me.
“Papa?”
“After,” I say as Grey rushes about to clean up camp and prepare for meeting her again. We’re not ready. Nothing is ready, but it’s better this way than doing nothing at all.
Leading her through the glowing halls, I keep a lookout for any other people crossing paths with us.
I’m not stupid. I’ve warned the others about her already, but I also know that they’re going to panic when they see her walking free, even though I already warned them. I’ve already got one sword drawn, ready to scare away trouble. If Namor finds any issue with my weapon, then she’s not saying anything staying close but still too afraid of me.
She doesn’t know many people who aren’t moon-blessed, so I’m sure that I’m strange to her. She’s still scared, even though she’s pretending not to be.
She’s strong. She’ll be okay.
The first group of people we cross take in the sight of us with a quiet gasp, but my glare is enough to keep them from saying anything stupid. The way Namor huddles at their glances makes me squirm but it’s not surprising that she’ll be scared of a few strangers. They’ll get used to each other after a while of living together.
We don’t say anything to the researchers, and they don’t say anything to us, we stare each other down until we leave each other behind.
The baths down here are an artifact from the old elvish empire, and they still mostly work. Thankfully there’s no one else down here, and we have the space to ourselves for now.
While I get the brushes and soaps, Namor explores the room, stepping lightly but not afraid to toy with various switches. She jumps as she activates a tap, sending the water pouring down into a long channel which heats the water before pooling into a wide tub.
I don’t have all the right brushes and combs, but I can make do so long as Grey shows me how to do this. With a little encouragement, I get her to sit down and start cleaning up, helping her with the hair on her head and back. Washing my own back is trouble enough, but if it was covered in knotted fur?
She’s stiff and nervous but after a few minutes she settles down, then as she relaxes, she starts to whine. It’s not crying the same as we do, there aren’t as many tears, but instead, she holds herself tight as she lets her pain out in long pained cries.
I hold her until she stops.
“Papa?” She whispers, and I can’t find another good reason to stop her.
“There is one thing,” I say, having already pulled together the words for this speech. “Your Papa was hurt badly, but he’s still going to be here for you, okay? You’re not going to be alone.”
“You didn’t heal Papa?”
“I’m still trying,” I say, slouching down.
Namor panics, looking all around before taking my hand and bouncing in place.
“Thank you. Thank you for healing us,” she says in a rush. “Don’t feel bad. You saved us.
“I… thank you.”
She shakes her head. “Thank you.”
The light of the sun shines down on us as we step out of the bright ruins. Grey steps out of the tent and Namor races down to him. They embrace each other, and as he lifts her and swings her around as he always does, she starts laughing, then crying.
“Everything is well,” He whispers, holding her tight.
Adeleya rests a hand on my shoulder, looking at the pair and biting her lip. Lothar steps up by her side and they share a look that I can’t understand.
“Papa, why are you so cold?”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
If you enjoy this story, like it, rate it, leave a comment, and share it around!
If you really like it and want more chapters join the Patreon, I need all your support to keep this going.
www.patreon.com/formlesschimera
