Kin of Jörmungandr

The car ride was a unique experience. Unlike the train, it was much smaller — only able to fit five average-sized sapients rather than hundreds — and moved far slower. Between Ceph and I, we could outpace it easily. But being able to lay down and exert no energy while still moving around remained fascinating.

What's more, the seat cushions the car were far softer than those of the train. It was almost like floating on water.

I slither through a procession of similarly dressed dohrni. Each held those pellet flinging sticks that only the weaker of the warrior caste tended to use. Ceph follows close behind me, the tips of her tentacles curling and her eyes clouded in thought. I've begun to get used to her tendencies. It's always one thing or another that sets her off — usually something I say — and will mumble to herself for hours. I've learnt to just let her work it out of her system when she gets like this. She gets too panicky otherwise.

"Welcome, Orm, to Shorpel." A dohrni with only five tentacles bows slightly. I stare at the stub for a moment, wondering what happened before they continue. "I apologise for the humble greeting; many of our best could not be here for your arrival."

Their words seem to snap Ceph out of her own head, and even without looking back I watch her glare. There's no need for her to worry though; it isn't as if I need their strongest warriors around. They are unlikely to give me much of a challenge anyway. Though I wouldn't have denied any teachings they have.

This new dohrni holds Ceph's gaze for a moment before turning away without acknowledging her. Do these two have history? I turn back to Ceph, but she averts her eyes. I've been getting much better at reading their body language, but sometimes — like right now — they remain impossible to decipher.

"I am Pallen, interim governor of our little coastal nation." She motions to her side, where the retinue of lower warrior caste break formation and guide the many workers gawking at my flying form to stand off to the side and give us a path. "I've heard you enjoy warm meats."

Pallen steps through the gap between onlookers, and I have learnt enough about their gestures to know she wants me to follow. I do.

"Orm, there is no need for you to return the favour this time," Ceph says as she follows close behind.

No? But isn't that how they all operate? I mean, I've been watching, and they give small bits of metal to receive the foods they want. A trade. I don't have those coins, as they call them, nor do I truly understand why any of these sapients would want them over a meal. Is it alright to simply take? I can't imagine even sapients could be happy to have the prey they hunted snatched out from their jaws.

"I can't say I'm not curious what kind of creature you gifted the lot at Kalma's Pit. We would welcome the opportunity." Pallen waves to the warrior caste and they fell into step behind us.

"Don't you dare," Ceph spits, before sputtering. "I mean, we would rather you simply take the meals as an offering."

"Huh. I never would have expected you to become so… uptight." Pallen's eyes slide back in her head to watch the other dohrni. For a moment, she looks like she wants to say something to her, but decides against it and turns to face forward again, where a section of a large open space is filled with stalls, crowds, and the scent of freshly cooked meat. "First, we'll show you around the fish marketplace, then we'll move on to some of the other sights."

"It's really lost its lustre, huh?" Ceph glances over much of the empty space around the market.

"Well, what can you do?" Pallen dismisses before striding up to the first stall. A path opens up in the crowd of staring sapients, and the sole dohrni behind the counter with crates full of dead fish stands horrified. "Wrap up a dozen of your best," she says, paying no mind to the man's nervousness. Catching Ceph's eye, she changes her mind. "On second thought, make that two dozen."

I eye the piles of dead creatures warily. Not only are they long deceased, but they have been buried in ice. I hope they don't expect me to eat any of this.

"I hear you're new to the way we do things up here," Pallen says as the man dives into work. "So I figured showing you through the process would be best. Maybe the chefs could even show you how to cook for yourself, later.

As soon as the sapient gathered the fish, Pallen waved a tentacle and a pair of the warrior caste stepped forward to carry them.

"So I'm sure you've been asked a million times already what with you being such a rare breed, but what's it like? Did you know about us before you caused that fuss in Meja? Are there others like you, down beneath the surface?"

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I slither through the air by her side, as curious of the many observers as they are of me. "Like me? I don't think so. Besides the Titans and the Beyond, your species are the first I've met. Not even the pseudo-Titans are fully sapient."

Behind me, Ceph jolts. As Pallen hums in interest and leads me to a stall of spices that give off a rather intense taste, Ceph speaks up. "About what you said earlier… when did this Beyond say it was going to cross over?"

Pallen casts a curious eye back, but focuses on her task of pointing out the varying types of flavours they use in their 'cooking'. "I do not know," I say, more focused on taking in the scent of each as Pallen points them out.

The sapients behind the table of dried herbs and powders jump in surprise at my words. Apparently more shocked by them, than my ability to fly, as so many others have found strange. Though, considering the three are volans with their own artificial wings, maybe it isn't as surprising.

"No need to worry," Pallen calms them. "Orm here isn't a portian." She goes on to introduce me and what I am.

"Well, I'm glad to make your acquaintance, Orm," the larger of the three says, stiffly. Of the two smaller ones, one hides behind him like I've seen many of the young tend to do around their birth-givers — parents.

The smallest breaks from his grip and lands on the edge of the table before me, and before any of the sapients around can react, touches me. The tiny sapient runs their hand along my scales below my head. I watch the young in curiosity while the hum of the crowd around us suddenly drops to dead silence.

"You have very pretty scales."

"Olvia! What are you doing?" the young girl's father shouts, and both he, and everyone around stand stiff and watch on with tension.

"You think so?" I beam. I can't help myself. It's always been important to me to keep them clean… even if I've not had the chance to properly polish recently. But hearing that someone besides myself thinks they look good is nice. "They are, aren't they?"

"Yes!" She leans in further. Not yet realising that her father's eyes are bulging from his head. I still find it curious that some species have an instinctual desire to protect their young. It seems that the presence of sapience doesn't interfere. Instead, it only enhances the desire.

As the young continues to run her hand down my scales, Pallen burst out in laughter. Immediately, the tense body language of the people around dissipates, and some even chuckle alongside her. It's a curious interaction. One I wonder if was done intentionally to calm the observers and warriors alike, or she simply found something funny.

The father hesitantly flies to his daughter's side and sweeps her up while offering an apology, before disappearing behind the table again. I watch her go, shaking my tail in a mimicry of the girl's hand wave.

"Is there more than one of this 'Beyond'?" Ceph suddenly asks as Pallen takes the containers of spices — another of the guards picks up a large wheel of what she calls cheese — and moves to the next row of stalls. "What about their strength? How powerful are they?"

"I don't know," I say again, and slide closely behind Pallen, who hasn't stopped talking about the process of where these ingredients come from and how they are made. Ceph grunts in dissatisfaction, but follows.

We reach a row of vegetables and fruits. I know the other sapients like to eat them, just as they like to eat cold, dead meat, but I've already learnt to give them their space to create and not assume the final meal will taste as horrible as what's inside.

"You said the Titans were sapient?" Ceph says, apparently still going on about that. "Does that mean it would be possible to reason with them?"

"No." I stop to glare at my guide. There is no communicating with Titans.

The silence has returned, and it takes me glancing around at the frozen bodies around me to realise my mistake.

"The Titans will never listen to the concerns of those lesser." I soften my voice more than before. "I'm not even certain if it was only one, or all are sapient, but regardless, they trample the earth and destroy all the land that those lesser than themselves use to survive. That is not the kind of being that is willing to listen to others' concerns."

For a weak creature unused to my presence, Pallen is rather quick to regain her wits. She makes a small announcement to the crowd that I barely pay attention to, and they soon disperse, leaving us more privacy than before. Maybe she picks up on my suddenly soured mood, and beelines us towards a place she calls a restaurant.

The row of cooks are quick to take the haul from Pallen and her warrior caste. As with everyone we've passed so far, they can't help but gawk my way, but with an angry shout by one in the back, they hurry on their way.

I lose myself in observing their work. Each of them wield fire and fake-claws to interact with something that smells incredible. At my side, Pallen narrates what each of them is doing. Some aspects — like the filleting of fish — seem wasteful, but they are the one's that know what they're doing, so I don't comment.

When they finally bring out the platters, I'm careful not to gulp down the entire lot as I did last time. There is plenty here, and many of the people continue to watch on from the side. As I indulge myself, I invite the rest to partake. It is their food, after all, so I don't know why they didn't at the start.

"Once we're done here, how about we show you the artillery platform? Or I can get an invitation for one of the fishing vessels?" Pallen seems to be enjoying this, and I see no reason not to take her up on the offer.

Before that… I should return the favour for the meal again.

"Do you have a preference? Creature type?"

It takes them a moment to understand what I'm saying, but the moment they do, the two female dohrni couldn't have more different reactions.

"No!" Ceph yells.

Pallen's eyes glisten. "Something bovine?" she asks hopefully.

Oh? That'll be a bit of a challenge. It'll probably take me a few hours of searching to find something like that on the Other Side, but the hot fish were worth it.

I'm gone in an instant. Only Ceph's lamentations follow me through the rend.