Kin of Jörmungandr

"We appreciate the… gift, but where did you find such a massive bird?"

Ceph glances over her shoulder for the eighth time since leaving. The fat breast of the oversized fowl still peeked over the horizon even from here. Of course, I had to make a few holes in space to see it, but the dohrni besides me didn't have such a problem. The benefits of light-based sight, apparently.

"On the Other Side."

"The other side of what?" Ceph asked, her eyes spinning inside her head until they landed on my small form.

I hadn't shrunk myself to my smallest — preferred — size until now as I didn't want to give these sapients a reason to overlook me. Their instinctual fear seemed to be lacking compared to most other creatures. Well, until they felt my presence. But I also didn't want to intimidate them, so I had settled for a comfortable height similar to their own.

Now that we are travelling, I have no need for such worries. Ceph will hardly look down on me just because I've taken a more subtle form. Though, I'll still need to determine whether I grow some at our destination.

"The Other Side of… just the Other Side."

For the longest time, I'd considered the Other Side to be a place beyond our world. The Other Side of our fabric. But after seeing into the nothingness beyond our realm, I know that isn't true. It is no more difficult to move there, than any other place on this fabric. An immense distance, but nothing more. The fabric connects. Our world and the Other Side are one and the same.

I don't know where it lies, but it is entirely possible to reach the Other Side without any spatial distortions.

That also means the Other Side can reach us.

The Titans. The devastated landscape perpetuated from the constant conflict of beings that toppled mountains with a misplaced step. All could reach this land of fragile sapients.

"It is a place none of your kind would survive."

Silence lingered in the air as Ceph took in my words. It is understandable; for the longest time, even I was deathly afraid of the place.

"Not even an Inner Circle mercenary?" she asks, before specifying at the tilt of my head. "Er, the ice mage you fought last time."

"Briefly." I say. "She could fly, so the ground wouldn't have killed her. The only question is her luck. How long before a Titan passed, or a beast hunted the trail of her cold wind."

"Right." Her eyes slide back to the bird that should be out of her sight by now. "And you can just go there whenever you want?"

"Of course. I leave a link nearby at all times. It would take far too long to find a path again if I didn't."

"You what?!" Ceph panics, before a wave of nervousness washes over her and she asks again. "I mean, nothing from over there can use that link of yours… can they?"

A refuting hiss cuts short as I consider the possibility. "It is… possible. But only if they share my gift for altering space."

The chain I leave between myself and the rend to the Other Side consists of distortions too small for even my narrowest form. They are there to keep the connection open. Nothing more. If I need to return, it takes but a moment to widen the path for myself. But for any other creature — besides tiny bugs — passage is impossible.

Only I'm not the only creature that can alter space. Any sciacylch could use the connected space that I maintain and blink through with their own power. My ability is Scia's gift, but it is not infeasible some creature amongst the many threats of the Other Side could replicate what I can do.

If such a beast does appear, then I will destroy it with the full weight of my power.

Scia's gift shall only be shared by the little one and myself.

"That… won't be a problem will it?" I return my attention to Ceph, only to find her fidgeting with the hilt of that fake claw of hers. More concerned then before. "We can't fight off a being from a place like that."

I guess she's worried that I'll be leading creatures here by leaving the link open? "The chance is minuscule. Not only have I never met a being besides myself that could both twist space and survive the Other Side," besides the phantom Titan that destroyed my home, "such a creature would have to find the distortion in the brief time I'm here. Considering the sheer vastness of the Other Side, it is impossible. But on the off chance it does, I will deal with it."

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Ceph staggers, almost falling in mid run. She's become adapted to my presence, but apparently my longer than usual speech was enough to trip her up. Annoying. I slide through the air, circling her as she regains her footing.

"Well, that's relieving," she says and takes a few moments to reach a full dash again. "That presence of yours… I think it's about time we worked on it. Some of the people we will meet are rather jittery, and if you want to speak without them… uh, fleeing in terror, you'll need to suppress it. You did want help, right?"

"Yes," I say immediately. "I would be glad to learn."

❖❖❖

Turns out, Ceph didn't know anything about presence, or using it to communicate. I shouldn't have been surprised. It's not like she, or any of the other sapients had really used it in any meaningful way.

Fortunately, her lacking experience did not mean she wasn't helpful.

In a little more than a week — a measure of seven cycles, or days — I have been able to suppress my presence to the point where Ceph no longer stiffens after my speech. Turns out, my attempts to narrow my range, while beneficial to my control, had only a marginal effect on suppressing my presence.

It was one of Ceph's ideas that led me to a better solution.

While the dohrni doesn't know much about presence, the compounded knowledge resulted from the experience of millions of sapients allowed her to postulate ideas that I have no foundation for. It should also allow her to speak with me endlessly… but unfortunately, she grows tired of speaking all too quickly when I prod her. Shame.

The first series of ideas were mostly things that I had already tried. Ways to shape presence. Trying to affect the air around someone, so it would be like the air speaking as proxy. Even trying to suppress my presence to almost nothing. That last one had shown promise, but my words form by the very existence of presence, so cutting it away made my hisses incomprehensible. As they had been for as long as I've lived.

Eventually, Ceph proposed the concept of forming words from my hiss as far back in my throat as I could, before trying to stifle the weight of my presence by clenching my jaw.

I thought the idea was stupid.

You can't hiss without the flow of air. And even if I could, anything that can suppress presence will suppress words as well. At least that's what I thought. Seeing no reason not to try, I'd clamped my jaw shut and hissed.

To say it was a success would be a lie. As I'd guessed, no sound escaped my throat. But I noticed something while trying to form those words as deep inside me as I could. Even with nothing to latch onto, my presence still formed the tool of communication. Nothing more than a rumble, I could hear the intent take shape, just not the words.

Ceph couldn't hear or feel the growl, but it told me what I needed to know.

My presence can graft both words and meaning into my hiss. Until now, it had been hard to distinguish between the two. Even if the sound of my hiss didn't form shapes, the pressure allowed any who heard it to understand what I wanted to be known. The problem I faced, was that the weight of presence required to craft words had always been overshadowed by the presence itself.

Essentially what I needed to figure out, was how to separate the sound of my formed words from my presence.

Well, that's already what I was trying to do, but now I knew that it wasn't my presence alone that instilled words in people's minds. Suppressing my pressure at the origin was not the answer.

Directly removing my presence from sound after the creation of words should be possible… but it would take a mastery that I simply do not possess. It might take years before I will. Instead, I focused on a roundabout method.

In the past week, I've gone through countless options. Most being only slightly better than before. But now, finally, I can speak with enough restraint that Ceph can respond immediately.

The method amounts to hissing with a fairly decent pressure twisting the sound, but instead of letting it flow out into the world and terrifying every poor critter within the nearest kilometre — another strange measurement of the sapients — I force it into my fabric.

It's surprisingly easy to do. Simpler even, than creating a bend. But the manipulations I have to perform inside my own fabric to keep the sound consistent while minimising the presence can only be described as convoluted. Apparently, the dissipation of presence is quicker through air than it is for sound, so as long as I twist the space I have full control over — not even needing to form bends — I can keep the sound from spreading outwards as it travels over immense distances all within my separate reality. Then, I allow the final sound to flow from my mouth.

Of course, the result is rather echoey and distorted. Ceph says I sound like someone speaking through a long tunnel… which isn't all that far from reality. I'll need to make some alterations to stop the reverberating echo, but for now, I'm happy to be comprehensible. Comprehensible, with only a hint of presence.

"So these crevices are new?" I repeat what Ceph said, mostly to hear myself speak.

"Yep," Ceph turns from the deep fissure splitting the land that was once a small nest; town. Now abandoned. There's a dozen nests on both sides, and even a massive one — likely for the queen — split down the middle.

Whether it's the lack of presence always flooding my voice, or she's calmed down at having what she must think of as an apex predator always hovering over her shoulder, Ceph has become far less nervous. She still sometimes has fits of fear — particularly when talk of the future comes up — but she's taking her role as a guide to heart. I can only thank her for that.

"Your voice still sounds a bit eerie, but it should be good enough for you to pass as a portian. I think we can take a train."

Hearing the name of the species that I'd once been mistaken for almost made me ask about them immediately, but my interest was toppled by the new topic. "A train?"

"Yeah, like the one you poked a hole in the last time you came to the surface." Ceph seemed to glare at me, but I couldn't understand the meaning behind her gaze. I tilted my head. She sighed, and continued. "While you could easily outpace it, riding a train is much more convenient for travel. I figured you might want to experience how most sapients move between the nations."

"Of course." That first not-snake I'd jumped into had been one of my first experiences at overhearing random conversations. Now I can participate in them? Ceph will find no reluctance from me.

"Good. We'll ride it north to the coast, then switch for Sruthland; home of the portian and Áinfean. Before that, have you ever seen the ocean?"

"The Magma Ocean?" I nod. "Yes."

Ceph's expression grows strained. "Ah, right. Didn't really want to remember that place," she mumbles before raising her voice. "Well, the ocean isn't as… spectacular as that, but many consider it beautiful. I'm sure you will too."