Lament of the Slave

“Mossbears aside, have you found any other terrans, or better yet, the beasts that might be at the origin of my changes?” I asked Mr. Sandoval, the librarian, and yes. I didn’t say ‘mutations’ on purpose. It sounded degrading. Like I still hated my body. Granted, I wasn’t exactly happy with it. The no kid part was hard to get over. But the rest? Somehow, for better or worse, I’ve come to terms with what happened to me.

“I looked a little deeper into your wings,” the old librarian said, his tone giving away he had failed to find more clues. Seeing I caught on, he added. “I’m sure the answer is in the books. It’s almost always there, just to find it.”

Giving him a knowing look, I fluttered my wings. “They’re too plain for that. You told me last time. I got it.”

“Unfortunately,” he concurred.

“It can’t be helped.” Shame, for sure, but it was what it was. So I gave him a smile, hiding my slight disappointment with it.

The librarian returned it, gesturing to my head. “I still think your ears originated in Fennec foxes. Unfortunately, I have not been able to find more references to that rare variant I mentioned in the books.”

“So it doesn’t have to exist,” I noted.

“I wouldn’t be so hasty to dismiss it, miss.” Mr. Sandoval stroked his grey beard. “There are thousands of books, bestiaries, legends, folklore, stories, journals, and more. Mention of the variant, one line or paragraph hiding among countless words covering the pages, may be in any of them or in none. It’s just beyond my skills to find it.”

At that, I raised my eyebrows and flicked my ears. Who else should find the information hidden in the pages of the books in this library but its librarian?

He laughed. “You give me too much credit. I’m just a simple librarian, at a mere level of seventy-six. My skills have their limits.”

Breath caught in my throat. What the fuck was I doing? It wasn’t the old man’s fault. If anything, it was mine. He did the best he could with what little I gave him, without me even asking.

“I’m sorry, I should know better,” I said, lowering my head.

“No harm done.” he smiled warmly, waving me off. “I understand you. I, too, had lofty expectations in my youth. When they weren’t met, it brought disappointment. It’s inevitable.”

Being lectured again, huh? It was wrong to think I was done learning for the day, especially since my last errand was the library.

“So?” I hummed, unsure of what to say next.

“I’d say look for fenox,” he said when I revealed my cluelessness on what to do. “There’s bound to be some among terrans in Castiana. Ask them, but be prepared for disappointment.”

I smirked. “Or ask with low expectations.”

“Or that,” he nodded. “However, no matter how much you temper your expectations, when they aren’t met, disappointment will always come.”

That was hard to refute. It was just a matter of how big the letdown would be. Nevertheless, how the hell did we get to this depressing topic? I growled in frustration, scratching my head.

“You okay?” the librarian asked with worry in his eyes.

“Yeah,” I replied with a sigh. “I am, just...sorry, forget it.” There was no point in discussing it further, to reflect on my life’s disappointments. Instead, I lifted Sage up and pressed him to my cheek. “Did you find anything on this boy?”

“Boy?” Mr. Sandoval wondered.

“Long story,” I waved him off with my tail, unwilling to discuss my mother’s death, either. He took it as it was, no matter how strange it seemed to him, and just gave me a nod while stroking his beard.

Was it satisfying, to rub your beard? The question popped into my mind every time I saw someone do it. All I could do was fondle my smooth cheeks, and I found no satisfaction in that.

Of course, there was also the issue of maintaining such a thing. Was it demanding? It has to be. The only thing I could compare it to was long hair care. How much of my life did that take? Better not to think about it, not now that I had moss growing in it.

Not that I want a beard. I liked my smooth cheeks. Just a thought, something that came to mind.

“It was a puzzle to find a beast with a tail like yours,” said the librarian, interrupting my thoughts.

His words gave me pause. “Beast? You weren’t looking among the terrans?” Once again, I spoke too quickly. It was only when the question left my mouth that I realized the stupidity of it. The librarian himself told me he was looking among the terrans only to make his search for the beasts easier.

The questioning look he gave me was easy to read ‘Are you fucking serious?’. Perhaps not so foul, the same meaning anyway. “No terran I’ve heard or read about has a tail that secretes poison.”

“None?”

“I think it would be known,” he argued, watching my tail with caution. “There are not many with one among the beasts either, fortunately. Actually, only one stood out to me.”

Just one? It couldn’t have been that easy. Having learned from our prior conversation, I kept my hopes down. Yet, I found myself leaning forward, curious to hear what he found.

He smiled at my eagerness. “In the pages of Great Journey, Prince Alederman mentions a poison-wielding beast living in the Olbaid River Delta, basically swamps.”

“Okay, and?” I urged him on as he quite deliberately kept me on my toes.

“Big, bushy, poisonous tail. Actually, the beast’s entire body fits that description. Hold on. I got the book right here.” He reached for the stacks behind him, took the one on the top, and put the book on the table. No bookmark required, he immediately found the right page. “Here. Let me read it to you.”

Clearing his throat, he began to read. “There, wading knee-deep in stinking mud, we encountered a nameless creature that could not be described as anything other than beast ruling the poison. It leaked all over its body from under the thick fur burning the skin at the slightest touch, paralyzing even the strongest of us. If it weren’t for the alchemist Siltuah The Scarred and her potions, antidotes to the most potent poisons known to the man, we would stand there paralyzed, watching helplessly as the beast devoured us one by one.

A slow process it would be, I dare not think, as the beast, given its massive size rivaling the three large men, was sluggish in the boggy terrain. Easy prey, it seemed. Then our tank’s magic shield that withstood the force of the rune-powered cannon of Askali, the self-proclaimed Rune High Scribe, shattered under the impact of the poison the beast wielded like a weapon of steel. It bent the poison to its will as mana to a Grandmaster Mage, attacking us from all sides with speed rivaling that of our fastest.

Every step was a struggle, every breath agonizing, yet we forged forward determined to slay this foul creature. With the prospect of victory within reach, we got closer and found ourselves fighting not just the beast, but its tail too. Big as the creature itself, it moved in a way that suggested [Parallel Mind] amongst beasts’ skills, attacking with poison so thick that it was dripping off it. Every drop burning through the armor that saved us from the flames of the lesser drakes.

It was our first failure on our voyage as we had to retreat, or it would have cost us our lives to stay longer.

More and more male counterparts of the beast scattered around the swamps were swarming us the longer we stayed there. Males, the smaller ones of the two, not so powerful nor wielding such potent poison, had strength in their numbers and determination to protect the female in distress like worker bees protecting their queen. It wasn’t her screaming that attracted them, nor her calling, but the poison. I’ll never forget the scent of apples and cinnamon mixed within the stench of decaying plants and stinking mud soaked in our clothes.

Nevertheless, what stuck in my mind the most was the last sight of her, when the beast stood on her hinds surrounded by males. It did not let out a triumphant roar, nor did it chase us like so many beasts in our experience did. Her eyes met mine, and then the air, or rather the poisonous fog surrounding us, pulsed with energy. I shaded my eyes, for at that moment, I was blinded by a sharp glare. 

When I looked up again, blinking away the pain in my eyes, I saw what could not be described as anything other than a crown on her head form from poison itself, yet blazing like embers in the orange haze. It almost seemed alive, adorned with threads that trailed behind her like the hair of a fair maiden under the lake surface of the same radiance as the crown. “Queen,” whispered my most loyal friend Gerrart the Caring, as enthralled by the sight as I was, but what I saw was not the Queen but the Empress. Empress of Poison."

“...” I-I was speechless, incapable of forming a single coherent thought.

It wasn’t until I heard the book slam shut and my ears twitch in response that I was brought back to my senses from the extraordinary adventure into which the librarian’s hoarse voice drew me in. “That’s all, miss.” He cleared his throat yet again. “Quite a tale, isn’t it? Keep in mind, however, that adventurers, especially noblemen like Prince Alederman, tend to exaggerate a lot.”

Nodding, I still couldn’t believe what I had just heard and experienced. Was it just my vivid imagination or librarian’s skill? In the end, it didn’t matter, what was important was the beasts they met in the narrative. 

Poison released from the whole body? A quick check told me I only had glands in my tail, nowhere else. Quite a relief. The smell of apples and cinnamon? One breath through a nose buried in the hair of my tail told me that wasn’t the case. No cinnamon. Controlling poison like it’s mana? It’s hard to say when I can’t do either. A crown on my head? Definitely not. But...

“So, what do you think?” Mr. Sandoval asked me. “I know, there’s not much description of the appearance of the beast herself or her tail, nor is there an attached picture. It’s the best I’ve found.”

I took a deep breath, realizing I was shaking and met his gaze. “It’s the one.” There was no doubt.

“Are you sure? Like I said...”

“I’m,” I stopped him, caressing Sage. “Orange poison mist, smelling of apples. Now that I think about it, how many times I’ve wondered if he has a mind of his own?”

The old librarian frowned. “You have the skill?”

“No.” Not the one he meant, the [Parallel Mind]. None like it was among my skills, I was pretty sure. It’s only been a few hours since I was forced to go through all my available skills to assure people around me I’m not part dragon.

“Then it’s more of a subconscious thing. You know the saying that the eyes are the window to the soul?” the librarian asked, and when I nodded, he continued. “The terrans have a similar one, but in their version, it’s the tail that is a window into their mind.” He chuckled, “A poetic way of saying they have little control over their emotions.”

“Or instincts,” I added. They have proven to be strong in tense situations, at least in my experience.

“Hard to control those even for humans,” agreed the librarian. “My point is the same. It’s not unusual not to have full control of the tail all the time. Especially terran kids struggle with it, and quite often they find their playmates in them, even give them names.”

My reaction, freezing and holding my breath, was the worst thing I could have done. It was like giving away my secret that only two people knew. The lament was quickly replaced by awkwardness as Mr. Sandoval burst out laughing. I’ve never seen him like this before. He even had to wipe away a tear. “No need to be ashamed. In a way, it makes sense. How long have you had him? A year? You’re like a child in that regard. I mean no offense, miss.”

Yeah, I was sure of that. Still, I couldn’t help feeling flustered.

“Would you indulge an old man’s curiosity?” He asked with a smile hiding behind his beard.

Should I? He already knew I named my tail. Was I ashamed of the name too? No. Still, I paused and looked around the library, wondering if Sah was listening to us. “He won’t hear us,” the librarian assured me. “One of my skills. It will ensure library patrons have quiet time to read.”

Wow, the old man must have really liked his peace. “Then why do you want everyone to be quiet in the library?” I wondered. From what he said, it wasn’t necessary.

He smoothed his beard. “Better to have the skill and not use it than the other way around. Besides, my habit is to read books aloud. I have this skill mainly for myself.” Oh, he didn’t want to disturb the others with his mumbling. Quite considerate.

I leaned forward, and despite what he said, I whispered: “It’s Sage.”

“Quite a name. I approve.” He gave an acknowledging nod. “Thanks for sharing. It’ll be a nice mention in my chronicles.”

“In your what?!” I asked, the pitch of my voice just a tone away from shouting.

“My chronicles, a nameless book so far, in much like Prince Alederman’s Great Journey, from which I read you a little bit. Not so epic, I’m afraid. Just a listing of interesting people who visited my library and their stories they chose to share with me,” he explained to me with a calmness undisturbed even by my raised voice. “I assure you that the book will not see the light of day until after my death, and even then, I do not think there will be much interest in it. It’s just a hobby of mine.”

A man needed a hobby. I understood that. Mine of late has been to survive.

“If you insist, I won’t write about you, but it would be a shame, don’t you think? Take Prince Alederman, for example, if it weren’t for his journals, we would hardly know anything about him or the people who accompanied him on his travels.”

Yeah, a journey that led them to the Empress of Poison. I closed my eyes, genuinely wanting to refuse the old man, but the thought of one day being completely forgotten shocked me. Sure, there were reports of me, stored away somewhere in the Empire, another in the desk of the madman, and more in the twisted minds of mind mages. Not the memory of me I wanted to leave behind. So I agreed.

“Thank you. Although we have drifted quite a bit off the subject. The particulars of your poison are pretty suggestive of the similarities to those described in the book. However, given the lacking description, I was anticipating at least some skepticism from you, not that you’ll be so sure,” he said, the question plain in his voice. If I were him, I’d wonder the same thing. There were more differences in the description than the matches with Sage or me, for that matter. That alone gave me pause, and kept taking my breath away.

Will I be able to do the same one day? I don’t mean leaking poison all over the body but controlling it like the beast, the Empress. Will it be strong enough to burn the skin? Because right now, it was harmless to the touch. And what the hell was that about the crown and the threads? I didn’t need anything else on my head. It was already crowded.

Stilling my pounding heart, I looked up from my reverie at the librarian. “When I got my tail, I received a skill along with it. [Tail of Poison Empress].”

“I see,” Sandoval nodded, stroking his beard. “That certainly leaves no doubt.” Not the reaction I was expecting.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. It would have saved you the search.”

“Why apologize when I enjoyed it,” he argued while his thoughts wandered back to the book. “Hmm, the name of the skill itself suggests that Prince Alederman’s encounter with the beast was one of the first, at least one with survivors.”

“What makes you think that?”

“He refers to the beast as nameless when he first saw her. Then she made such an impression on him that he described her as the Empress of Poison. According to the book, he and his companion never returned there. But right after that, they visited an inn at crossroads to recover from their failure. It’s not hard to imagine that the Empress of Poison was mentioned there. It’s quite exciting. Not every day you find the origin of a beast’s name.” he exclaimed with considerable enthusiasm.

Me? I had some reservations. “The name is a little different, though. Are you sure?” It could have been someone completely different, with a similar impression of her.

“As sure as I can be,” he replied, tapping the old book. “It’s not the original, that was lost long ago, but a transcription of it. Sadly the book omits mention of the period. If I had to guess, based on the location, I’d say before Twenty-three Years’ Winter.”

I scratched the back of my head. “I have no idea when that was.”

“Year 736, Rise of the Runes Era,” he told me a date that meant absolutely nothing to me.

Swallowing my pride, I gave him a blank stare. “And today is...?”

The silence I got from the librarian made me nervous. He stared at me, not even stroking his beard how deep in thought he was. “You’re not from around here, are you, miss?”