POV: Natasha

  “Yo, Tom.” Julun called him.

  “Yeah?”

  “Pass those cards. I’m feeling like robbing you.”

  “We’re playing with silver?” He pulled out his wallet and drew a silver pint. A slender silver rod, no longer than a pinky.

  “Well, it can’t be fucking bronze.”

  Merkerthy raised an eyebrow. “Raise that shit to the onyx level.” (A thousand silver pints = one onyx pint)

  The other two looked at him like he was stupid before laughing.

  I sat there, listening to their gambling and nonsense. I did that a lot when I wanted to learn as much as possible about everything. There were so many different dialects, cultures, taboos, languages, accents, animals, types of technologies, and terminologies. It felt frustrating at first.

  For example, in Retuia, on the edge of Terrafall’s eastern border, it was apparently a custom for parents to show their children the expenses spent on them — and go into detail about it — especially as they neared adulthood. The idea was to make them feel indebted, loyal, and teach them the value of money. I heard it was a tradition among Julioes.

  Then I also heard it was based on Punchio’s culture, but that was probably just racism due to the money-loving stereotype. But I don’t know.

  Tom drew the last card, losing. “One of you guys set me up.”

  “Or you just suck.” Julun grinned as he picked up all the money. “But I’m glad you do. I’m glad indeed.”

  Merkerthy yawned. “I’m done. Pass one of those magazines.”

  Julun replied, “Don’t have any.”

  “Huh? What do you mean?”

  “Rets-agyi-meui made me burn them.”

  The two stared at him. “Tell that girl of yours to get a proper fucking name instead of that brain-dead shit. ‘Agyi...’ How do you even pronounce that?”

  “I think with two ‘r’s and... a ‘e’, then...” Tom thought.

  Julun cut them off. “It’s ‘a,g,y,i.’”

  “Why the hell does it sound like it doesn’t even have an ‘a’ in it?”

  Julun shrugged. “Ask her when you see her.”

  Tom shook his head. “Whatever. Anyway, lucky for you Merk, I got the EX DEL 1536 SEXY SHOTS. Give me twenty-five silver for it.”

  He flipped a thick magazine, showing a naked blonde woman lying in the sand with vanilla ice cream covering her nipples—and neither region.

  “Wait, 1536 sexy shots? In that small thing? They scammed your ass.”

  “No, dumbass. It’s a compilation of everything that came out this year.”

  “Oh... You got the Vlandos one?”

  “Fuck no. Why the hell would I want to see those damn giants naked?”

  “But you only bought it to sell the shit, so why would you care? And why are you reselling it for so much?” The original price tag of two silver pints was still on it.

  “Work smart, not hard.”

  “Motherfucker, you said—”

  “Shut up. You only want it to resell outside of the city anyway.”

  Bahmos said, “Shut up already. You all are loud for no reason.”

  “Kay, kay.”

  Yeah, absolutely nonsense.

  Their talking faded out when a loud shriek passed over us.

  A sharkcrow. Vernisha, who was sitting near Ulah, jerked her head up and looked through the window above the carriage to watch it.

  It was a feathered, winged shark the size of a full-grown bull. It flapped its wings and flew away.

  It was one of those animals that had been driven to near extinction three hundred and four years ago—hunted for food during wars on the continent and for stupid ritual purposes.

  Vernisha returned to holding Ulah’s hand, comforting him. She said he was going to be okay.

  She even did something similar for her father. So I guess she honors our promise.

  Still, I was surprised she could honor it.

  I actually thought she probably chose to poison them. I didn’t get why she’d want to kill Ulah, though. Her father, I understood. That made sense.

  I think it does. But it didn’t make sense with her personality. If she wanted him dead, she would have tried to make it look like an accident, like she did in the past.

  If I were more sensitive, I’d have done it myself.

  He was so descriptive and explicit with his words, and so quick to anger. Everything made his blood boil. It was like he was always bothered by something, and if he got a little more agitated, he burst into flames.

  But he only showed that anger in the house. He must have thought of me as a verbal punching bag.

  That really does something to my ego. Him thinking I was his. His words? Like I’ve said a million times, I wasn't affected.

  But whenever I thought about how he thought he could treat me however because he thought he “owned” me, a type of anger boiled inside me.

  If I weren’t a mother... and for other reasons... I would have definitely killed him.

  Sigh.

  I am a mother. I’ve been one for twelve years, but it doesn’t change the weird kind of happiness I feel when I think about it.

  A slight cold chill ran down my spine and a knot formed in my stomach. I’d carried a child for nine months—not once, but twice—and given birth, nursed them.

  I saw them go from being incredibly stupid to learning to speak and function semi-independently, alongside the changes in their bodies.

  It was an interesting thing to go through.

  Tch.

  How did Vernisha just come across some weird mutative bread in a damn Balash temple?

  “Ma…” Ulah woke from his sleep, but unlike before, he could communicate.

  I rested my hand on my chin.

  I wonder—

  Vernisha looked at me expectantly. “I think… he wants you.”

  This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

  …

  My heart skipped a beat, and I moved over quickly. “Yes, I was just in shock.”

  I sat near him and cradled him. He made expressions of pain while saying random things:

  “Two times three… is five? No… six.”

  “Vernisha, what’s division…”

  She said, “It’s weird that he is thinking about such things right now.”

  “Maybe it’s just his custom.”

  “Yeah. He was somewhat excited to learn about division.”

  “I guess you’ll have to remember to teach him when he recovers.”

  “Yeah, for sure.”

  Caren made slight movements and even sleep-talked. “Benji… listen to me. If we all put our money together, we can buy it…”

  Benji—his brother.

  He continued, “Come on… Granddad meant that land for us! How can we just let someone else keep it?!”

  Oh, that. He had told me about that. His parents sold a lot of land passed down in the family. He thought it wasn’t fair, and the land was only meant to be held by Holinestones.

  Julun said, “You think the head wounds made him…” He tapped his head.

  “Crazy?” I asked.

  “Yeah, something like that. Thought it would be rude to say it since he’s your husband and all.”

  “Oh. I doubt that’s the case. He’s probably just sleep-talking. Relieving memories,” I answered.

  Tom joined the conversation. “Was he talking when they fell sick?”

  None of them knew they’d turned into cannibals.

  Vernisha answered, “Somewhat. But nothing like this. It almost seems they are mentally getting better.”

  Or the opposite.

  Tom replied, “I hope that’s the case. Growing up without a father is hard. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.”

  Merkerthy nodded in agreement.

  I asked him, “You don’t have one?”

  I’d known him since he was a teenager, one of those annoying ones who would try their best to get with women twice their age (unlike most, he didn't grow out of that), but I didn’t recall ever seeing his parents.

  He shrugged. “You saw him a couple of times. He’s just a druggie now. Only knows me when he needs money to get a fast high.”

  I didn’t understand it. He clearly had a father— Oh. I got it.

  “I see. Sorry to hear that."

  He shrugged. "It's whatever. Little Verni did meet my mom at a market square once, though."

  “Oh. How’d that happen?”

  He started smiling, holding back small laughter like he was remembering an embarrassing moment.

  He gestured at Vernisha and said, "She tried to sell her a pink-terra for triple the market price."

  Vernisha shrugged. "I needed the money. And I got the money."

  I half-smiled. "Interesting to hear."

  More time passed, and I found myself staring into nothing.

  Vernisha got up and sat near me.

  She didn’t say anything, but I could tell she was uneasy.

  Then she started tapping the floor like she often did when bored or worried.

  After about five more minutes, she asked, “Why aren’t you angry with me?”

  What a weird question.

  “Why would I—" Oh right. "—It was an accident.”

  “When I get into accidents, you get angry. Ridiculously angry.”

  “The difference is that… It’s different.”

  “How is it different? Isn’t this worse?”

  “Vernisha.”

  “Yes.”

  “Stop worrying. You’ll give yourself high blood pressure.”

  “It’s hard not to when I can remember how you always reacted when I badly injured myself. Like when that boulder crushed my legs. You were angry, angry that I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Angry for something you didn’t warn me about, that I didn’t know about. Something I wasn’t responsible for at all.”

  “If Caren was the only one who got messed up because of me, I would understand your calmness. We don’t give a fuck about him. But Ulah? You love him.”

  “Do you want me to scream at you? Call you foolish? I don’t understand why you’re complaining. I see that it was an accident, so I accept it was an accident. What’s your problem?”

  “I just felt uneasy.”

  “Well, don’t.” I scoffed.

  She didn’t reply. Instead, she appeared sulked, harmed by my words.

  I ran my hand through my hair and said, “Look, I understand why you did it. I can relate to it. When I was much older than you, maybe fifteen, I brought a fruit to my sister. It looked nice and smelled good too. But I didn’t know those fruits held a lot of parasites. My sister died because of me, a painful death, and my parents blamed and hated me for it.” I looked her right in the eyes. “I don’t want you to feel that kind of pain. To feel like you are responsible for the suffering of others because your kindness betrayed you.”

  Vernisha’s lips pursed open, and she found it hard to get the right words. “I didn’t know you had a sister."

  “I don’t like to talk about my family.”

  “Oh, right. Sorry.”

  “It’s okay.”

  Unfortunately, the three had been listening, but all they did was offer words of comfort.

  After an hour, the Lizard’s movements became slower. Then it became still and was panting.

  The three younglings were fast asleep, but Bahmos woke up. In his hand was a pyramid communicator.

  He forced his tired self up and reached for the carriage walls for balance like a drunkard at a bar.

  “Dreamy?” he called.

  The Lizard responded like a small cat.

  “Ah...”

  I asked him, Is it tired?

  His eyes snapped open in surprise, as if an intruder had just entered his house. When he realized it was only me, the tension melted away.

  “Damn,” he muttered, “Forgot you were there. Yeah, it’s tired. Give it about twenty minutes.”

  “I see.”

  He slid the carriage door open and hopped out. “I’ll be out for a while.”

  Vernisha, leaning against my shoulder, spoke up, “I want to go outside.”

  “Why?” I asked.

  “I feel like my bladder is about to burst.”

  I exhaled, then stood up. What if the Lizard didn’t stop?

  Vernisha grabbed my waist to help herself up. “I would just die holding it in.”

  You were that afraid to ask them to stop? I asked as I climbed out of the carriage and stood on the paved dirt ground.

  I looked at the tall grasses and white flowers among them.

  “A bit so,” Vernisha muttered, hopping out but nearly tripping before catching her balance.

  “Stop being so reckless...” I muttered under my breath.

  “I’m hungry, need to pee, and sleep-deprived.”

  Vernisha yawned before walking deeper into the grass field. I followed to make sure she was safe, ignoring her complaints about me treating her like a child.

  Her movements were cautious, like a blind person’s, each step hesitant.

  She complained, “It’s so damn dark…”

  I smirked. “So you ‘can’t see’?”

  She paused, clearly trying to process my joke. “I don’t understand. Explain.”

  “No.”

  “Whatever.”

  Once she was done, we walked back. She stepped on something soft and quickly moved her feet away from it.

  “I hope it’s just a fruit…” she muttered as she aggressively dragged her sandals on the grass, trying to rid them of what she suspected was animal waste.

  I stared at what she had stepped on.

  A bloody human hand with a fresh bite mark.

  I asked her, “Does it smell like shit?”

  She shook her head. “But it doesn’t smell like fruit either.”

  I shrugged and walked forward, motioning for her to follow. “Oh well.”

  In the distance, Bahmos was talking, “You’re joking, right? What do you mean she quit?”

  He paused for a moment before asking, “So you’re working on fixing this? We need a vlandos by tomorrow.”

  “Well, work on it!”

  The vlandos was probably meant as a bodyguard for some illegal dealings—most likely drug-related. That would explain why he’d hire one. A vlandos mercenary was not only expensive but also highly illegal.

  Bahmos returned shortly, stomping the ground, his cigar billowing blue smoke.

  He saw us and asked, “Getting fresh air?”

  “Something like that,” I replied.

  He nodded, gazing up at the moon. He then looked down at Vernisha and said, “You know, monsters originate from the moon.”

  “Stop spreading such myths,” I told him.

  “It’s not a myth. I learned that in school, Brightmore school.”

  “You should sue them for teaching you such lies.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Let’s start moving again.”

  We boarded the carriage, and the Lizard began moving again.

  I leaned against the wall, considering sleep. I didn’t feel tired, but I didn’t want to think too much at the moment.

  So, I closed my eyes and relaxed.

  POV: Vernisha

  I checked the map to see how far we were from the capital. Interestingly, we were near a small monster zone.

  An hour passed, and I struggled to stay awake. For some reason, Bahmos was still up. I suspected smoking was keeping him alert.

  He started a random conversation. “Why are you still up?”

  “I think everyone should stay up when you’re around.”

  His eyes widened a little. “Must have heard rumors.”

  “A lot of them.”

  Rumors about his father trafficking kids to Holvious.

  Unlike Holvious, child marriage was legal here, so the black market in Terrafall didn’t have much demand for it.

  “Is that why you tried to sabotage my carriage a while back?”

  I paused.

  “I’m not going to do anything to you. If you weren’t a child, it would be a different story,” he continued.

  “So, you’re not going to kill me?”

  “Exactly.”

  “Because I’m a ‘child’?”

  “Isn’t that what I just said?” he replied.

  I found that hard to believe.

  I asked, “So it isn’t because I’m Natasha’s child and you so badly want to get into her dress?”

  He blew out a large puff of smoke. “My fucking God. I may be a piece of shit, but I’ve got some damn morals. Also, don’t talk like that. You’re a kid.”

  Him telling me not to talk like that, and calling me a ‘kid,’ really annoyed me.

  I stared at him. He stared back and said, “What?”

  “Please don’t tell me how to talk. I am not a... I am not your child or one who wants advice from you.”

  It was annoying. But, until I turned twenty, I was considered a child. A big child, but a child nonetheless.

  He leaned forward, wearing an expression that suggested he thought my request was absurd. “Were you never taught manners and respect?”

  “I was being respectful. I said ‘please.’ Or do you think it’s because you’re an adult I should do as you say?”

  He looked at me like I was something hateful, then shook his head.

  He grumbled, “You little…” He stopped himself, then muttered under his breath. “I swear to the stars... I’m glad I no longer have a kid.”

  He angrily puffed on his cigar and coughed. “Fucking ungrateful little shits... Always so fucking ungrateful.”

  He went on like this for a while, before adding, “If it weren’t for me, you probably wouldn’t even be with your family. Some fucking dumbass would’ve come here and bought you off your father when you were ten or something.”

  He bit down on his cigar, crushing it. “Or maybe they would’ve bought you for their deformed sons or daughters. Forced you to live your sad life with a fuck who can barely form words or even fucking move. Like a slave, wiping their ass every day. And you know who prevents that shit from happening to all you kids in this village? Me.” He took a deep breath, then whispered, “Fucking... me.”

  I didn’t say anything. I chose not to believe it. Even if it were true, it wouldn’t change how much I disliked him.

  He threw the cigar down and went to lie down, muttering, “Ungrateful…”

  That rage was definitely meant for someone else. It felt like pent-up frustration.

  I tried to stay awake but ended up falling asleep on Natasha’s side.