Nagith Chronicles: Discovery

He was wandering in the wastes, the gray, dusty ground crumbling under his feet. The gray sky twisted above him and the wind whipped up the dirt but there was nothing else. Nothing at all. No buildings of the city, none of the gnarled, rough roots and snapping leaves. No black water or roving beasts, not even a flying creature. Nothing at all. He kept walking, not sure where he was going or how he had even arrived there, or where he was….

He brushed his hair from his eyes as the wind whipped, scanning his surroundings once again in search of something, anything- then abruptly, there it was. Something. Something in the ground, sprouting up from it. A plant? It had a stem and leaves, but they were…naked. They were soft and smooth, so unlike the scales and shells of any plant he knew. And it was small, so small he had to kneel down to look at it. There was a bulb of sorts on top of the stem. A fruit? But there was no hide, no shell, it was soft and pale. His fingers slowly brushed the surface and the blub…burst.

Charin nearly leapt back but for some reason did not move, staring at the white blub as it unfurled. It had five points, segments, made of two soft flaps folded in on each other. It was a shape he hadn’t seen before, a plant he hadn’t seen before. It was soft and vulnerable, there was no way something like this could survive. What was it? Where had it come from? He put his fingers to it again, stroking it. It was soft, like hair, like cloth, like Rachel’s skin. He stroked it but it did not spew poison, did not sprout thorns, did not lash at him with vines. It was harmless and soft. How? Why? What was it? He kept running his hand over it, it almost felt….fluffy? He had heard that infant’s hair felt ‘fluffy’ to the touch, but he’d never seen-

The plant cooed.

He stared at it, confused, looking around. There was nothing there, but he was sure plants didn’t make sounds. Then again, he was sure that all plants were deadly too, yet this one hadn’t-

It cooed again.

“What-?”

Abruptly he was in his bed, staring up at the ceiling. He jolted upright, whipping his head around. What-? What happened? He had been sleeping? But- but how could he see things while he slept? You didn’t see things when you slept, you didn’t hear things or touch them. There was nothing when you slept- had he really been sleeping? He remembered going to bed the night before and then there had been that place, with the soft plant and the-

Proo?

That cooing sound. Wait, then he actually had heard that sound? Where was it coming from? He looked around and quite suddenly found the source of the sound, sitting on his lap atop the covers.

There was a…thing, sitting on his lap. It was small, it could have fit in his hand. It was white, like the plant had been, and…round, and…fuzzy? Yes, it was a small ball of what he could only describe as ‘fluff’. It was a puffball with two large eyes. They were white too, except from the dark little spot that was the pupil and a black ring around the irises.

Proo? It cooed again, blinking its big eyes up at him.

“What the fuck?” he responded flatly, staring at it.

The puffball blinked again and then abruptly rolled over onto its back. He saw then that it did have more to its body, too little spade-like feet which flailed gently in the air as it rocked back and forth, making that small cooing sound.

“What…are you?”

He’d never seen a creature like it. It was like that plant, soft, fluffy, vulnerable and weak. Something that could not possibly live and yet there it was. It rocked back and forth on what he assumed was its back, kicking its tiny feet and cooing happily. Charin hesitated, looking around and then put a finger to the top of its head and lightly rolled it back onto its feet. The creature cooed again, then began to hop up and down in place, impossibly high for non-existent legs. It was bouncy. How the hell could a fluffy little mat of hair be bouncy?

He was completely baffled by it as it continued to hop around his bed, wondering if he really had gone insane this time. First he saw things in his sleep and now there was a living hairball bouncing on his bed. Abruptly the puffball rolled up to his hand and started rubbing against it, making sweet, soft little sounds.

Charin frowned and quickly scaled up his skin, much to the puffballs dismay. He grabbed it, making sure it didn’t come into contact with any of his skin. Maybe it was poisonous? Maybe the fur had toxins or something, how else could it survive? Maybe it acted aloof to lower its prey’s guard, then poisoned it and then ate it- wait where was its mouth? It didn’t seem to have one.

Proooo….

The thing’s eyes seemed to get even bigger, like it was sad. Why was it looking at him like that?

“That’s it, I’m gonna take you to Malochite and see what the hell you are.”

Proo?

He ignored its questioning blink and also ignored how he knew it could be questioning him if all he could see of it were its eyes. Without bothering to change out of his night-garments he dashed through the halls, holding the little creature tight in his claw. It continued to coo and squeak, wriggling about as he searched. He had never, ever seen a creature like this and the sleep-seeing had deeply unsettled him. It was seriously doubtful to him that this creature and that event occurring at the same time had been a coincidence.

“Charin.”

He stopped so abruptly he nearly stumbled.

“What is that?”

Tensombrek was behind him, his eyes narrowed on the small cooing thing and his feathers twisting menacingly behind him. Malochite stood behind and to the side of him, his arms behind his back patiently awaiting his master’s next whim.

“I- I just woke up and found it. I’ve never seen something like it before.” Charin held out the fluffy thing for his sovereign to see. “So I- hey-!”

One black tendril swiped the small animal from Charin’s hand, holding it tightly. The creature let out a startled squeak, wriggling desperately in an attempt to escape. Tensombrek’s eyes bore into the struggling hairball, his expression tight-lipped and unimpressed.

“Where did you find it? Exactly?”

“I just woke up and it was rolling around on my bed.” Charin frowned, eyes darting between the struggling animal and Tensombrek’s face. “What is it?”

“I have not seen its like before, Master.” Malochite said flatly. “Is it a new creation of yours, milord?”

“I did not make this farce.” Tensombrek replied sharply, turning his head to glower back at his servant. “Why would I create such a pathetic weakling of a beast?”

“You didn’t?” Charin frowned, hesitating. “But wait a minute. Where did it come from then? I thought things could only be here if you said they could-“

A piercing, ear-splitting shriek rang through the air. The fibers of Tensombrek’s feather had hardened and turned sharp, then abruptly crushed the white creature in its grip. Charin’s eyes widened as the thing exploded into a lump of blue blood and shredded fur. With a lax toss the feather threw the remains against the wall as Tensombrek sneered at it.

“It doesn’t matter. I’ve corrected the mistake.”

Charin could only stare. One second it had been there, that strange little aberration and now it was gone. He didn’t know what to think about it. There had been so many questions stemming from its strangeness, so many things he wanted to figure out about it and then as suddenly as it showed up it was….

“If you see another, get rid of it. Make that an order to all.” Tensombrek said as he continued his walk down the corridor, past Charin.

“As you wish, Master,” Malochite responded.

Charin stood there. His mind was blank and his body felt numb. There wasn’t anyone around; it was quiet. If not for the mangled little body against the wall it would be like nothing had happened here at all. His eyes drifted to the corpse, bright blue blood spreading out in a tiny puddle around the minute body. He found himself standing there, staring down at it.

Why? Why did Tensombrek have to destroy it? It had just gotten there. If it wasn’t dangerous or…anything, what was the point in killing it? Then he thought…maybe there was no point. No reason. No purpose at all into killing this strange animal, so why do it? It didn’t make any sense, but then why should he care either? If there was no point in killing it then there had to be no point in leaving it alive either. It was no different than kicking a piece of trash out of your way while walking. So then why was he standing here, entranced by this little corpse?

He went to walk away and go about his day, one of the servants would clean it up so there was no reason for him to do anything about it. It had been alive and now it wasn’t. That was all there was to it, just like that kid in the street-…and the mad one in the plaza…and the group he’d killed just the other day….

No, he couldn’t walk away. That’s all he ever did. They died and he turned and walked away. He didn’t know what else he expected to do but the idea of walking away again just felt unbearable. This time he wouldn’t just walk away.

The bloodied fur felt sticky but still strangely soft when he picked it up, cradling it in both hands. What was he going to do with it? What usually happened to dead bodies? He felt horribly stupid when he realized he didn’t really know. Did they get eaten? He didn’t want to eat it. This tiny, weak thing, killed because Tensombrek said it shouldn’t have been born. Just like him.

His blood ran cold at the thought, staring at the bloody lump. How close had he been to being this? How close had he been to being crushed and broken like this thing, then tossed aside like trash? What would have happened to his body? Would he have been thrown out and eaten? Would he have rotted away in the ground? Would the light in his eyes have gone dark? What would he want, he wondered? If he had been killed as a kid he wouldn’t want to be eaten or rot, so what else was there?

Out of the corner of his eye he saw smoke rising. The building with the kitchens always had fires going around this time of day, so they had funnels for the smoke to travel out of- Wait. Maybe that was it. He’d burn it. That way nothing would eat it or decay it, nothing else could harm its memory. Yeah, that seemed like the best option. That’s what he would want if he died…

So, still in his nightclothes he made his way down to the grounds with the little thing in his hand. The few people he ran into gave him looks of disgust and suspicion, though none stopped him. He was a Lestuk after all, they wouldn’t dare try and anger him with that rank. His title granted him right to kill anyone he desired, unless of course, Lord Tensombrek had told him otherwise. The tricky ting was that the entity never made his rules completely clear. At times he would not care if someone broke every rule he had, then at others he would kill people or doing something he stated was perfectly acceptable. He was dangerously unpredictable, though Charin supposed he and the little hairball knew that more than anyone- well, just him, now.

He found a spot on the gray grass outside, in the corner of the stone walls of the kitchen and the barracks. It didn’t take him too long to gather the wood from the kitchens and to set the fire. The fire smoked bit, probably from the burning fur. The smell itself seemed like it was burning up in his nostrils and he wanted to move away, yet he sat down instead. He sat there, watching the fire sear the small round body into a blacked piece of charcoal. Why he stayed to watch, he wasn’t quite sure. It wasn’t like the fire was going to cause a problem, small as it was, and he knew it would burn hot enough to get rid of the body.

Suddenly he wondered why he had not done this before. The people he’d killed, why hadn’t he felt the need to burn them? Why was it just this strange little vermin that he had only known for a couple minutes compelled him to see it through, when he had left bodies of his own kind to rot in the dirt? It made him very uncomfortable to think about, so he tried to simply stop. That didn’t seem to do the trick either, he couldn’t stop. It was like there had been a dam in his head and it had been slowly cracking, then it had finally sprung a leak. The water was coming out now, with great force, there was nothing so trivial as ‘just stop’ that could make it cease. Was this madness? When the leak shattered the entire structure would he be swept away to drown in his own thoughts, to thrash wildly in the currents- was that why the mad ones flailed?

He battled with himself for quite a while, staring at the fire long after the flame had died and the little creature was nothing more than a pile of ash. Where had it come from? Why had it existed if Tensombrek had not made it? Why did it show up to him? Why right after that sleep-sight? What was that sleep-sight anyway? He’d never heard of someone seeing things while they slept, was it some kind of hallucination? He hadn’t recalled taking any drugs that night, even so, usually he was awake when he saw things. What was happening? His world seemed to be crumbling on its own foundation, there were all these horribly unsettling questions and no one he could turn to for answers.

Well…that wasn’t entirely true, now was it?

Charin’s fingers clenched and he rose to his feet, brushing himself off and looking up at the citadel. There could be answers if he was bold enough to request them. The boss never hurt him too badly anyway, it could be worth a beating or two to gets his answers. With a determined look on his face he turned, leaving the ashes behind and heading back inside. Wasting no time he quickly strode back into the building and into his chambers, changing into clean garments and tying his hair back in a tail. He was a Lestuk after all, wasn’t he? He was the third highest power in the Nagith, it would only make sense that he should understand things as much as Malochite did, right? Yes, he was owed this.

It was a frustrating search. It seemed that whenever he was not expecting (or desiring) his master to show up he was everywhere, but when he sought him out intentionally he was nowhere to be found. Even none of the maids or servers had seen him around this morning. Could it be that the entity was avoiding them, avoiding him? Why? What was he trying to hide? Was it that the small hairy creature and his presentation of it had actually…frightened, Tensombrek? His master, frightened…that was an odd thought. What could he possibly be frightened of? There wasn’t a thing that could threaten him- then again, he had never known anything that had tried.

“Lord Charin?”

He stopped his searching and directed his attention to the maid that had stopped him. She gave a short curtsy and then looked up at him.

“Lord Tensombrek has decided to throw a feast tomorrow, I am to ask you whether or not you will need assistance in preparations.”

A feast? Charin frowned. While it wasn’t unheard of by any means for his master to throw lavish and raucous parties, the timing felt very off. Why so suddenly? None of this seemed to make any sense. That strange occurrence and then suddenly all this? Perhaps…wait, was he trying to distract him from pursuing his answers? Or was he trying to distract something else…?

“Ah- no, I’m fine. Have you seen Lord Tensombrek by any chance?”

She shook her head.

“Not since he ordered the festivities earlier this morning, my lord.”

“Do you know where he is? Or Lord Malochite?”

“I believe Lord Malochite is in the main chamber preparing for tomorrow.”

“Thanks.”

Charin made his way through the corridors to the main hall, going over what he would ask and how exactly to word it. Though it was very clear that things were as the maid said, given the increased activity of the servants and slaves running about with their tasks. It was relatively easy though to find his target in the hall, large as it was, Malochite towered over all the others present. Steeling his resolve, Charin cut through the swarming servants and up to his mentor and guardian.

“Hey, big guy.”

Malochite glanced down at him as he scribbled something down on the papers he had in his hand.

“What is it, Charin?”

He was so sure that prior to this, he had thought out a well put, carefully worded and subtle phrasing to approach all that was on his mind. That was not what came out at all.

“What the hell was that white thing and why did the boss kill it?”

Charin twitched slightly and cursed himself, though forced his composure to look sure of himself.

“It is unimportant. Master does as he wishes.” Malochite stated flatly, going back to his work.

Charin felt a spark of anger at being so quickly dismissed but didn’t allow that to stop him.

“It is important! Why get rid of it if it wasn’t important?! And what’s with all this?! Why all of this all of a sudden?! I’m a Lestuk and I should know what’s going on.”

Though he felt as if he was asserting himself in that moment, the very next when Malochite glanced down at him made him feel remarkably childish. Small and stupid, like the very first time the elder man had appeared before him.

“If Master deems it necessary that you know, he will have you informed.” Malochite responded flatly. “As of now there is nothing I need explain. Go about your tasks.”

He turned his attention fully back to his work and Charin knew he was being dismissed.

Fury sparked up in him, burning like a rakyal trapped in his ribcage. He went to raise his voice again but knew he would only be humiliated if he pursued, given that he would simply be ignored. With a reasonable amount of willpower he turned away. He’d go find Tensombrek himself then, he was going to get to the bottom of this one way or another. That little furball meant something; that sleep-sight meant something, this all meant something and they were keeping it from him.

His frustration only mounted as he spent his day searching for his master with nothing to show for his efforts. Tired and irritated he returned to his quarters and slumped into his favorite chair, staring off into space. He just needed to take the edge off, he thought. The man sighed and turned for the bottle of liquor by his chair and then stopped, looking at it.

It hadn’t helped last time, had it? Or the time before, or the time before- really it had never helped him with anything, had it? He took the bottle, scanning it, frowning. A quick swig and he lowered the bottle again, frowning. It still tasted the same, it still gave him that pleasant buzzing sensation, he still liked it, so what was that thought about? Thought it was true, really, even if he liked it, drinking it had never made anything better. It was just like everything else he did, getting it to distract and pleasure him for just a short while before it all fell away. Then…then what was it? What was it he needed to make this ache stop? What was it he needed to make it stop leaving?

Once more he thought of Rachel and the contentment he had in her presence, though now his mind flitted to others things from there. The sleep-sight, the plant, the strange fluffy creature. All of those things and Rachel somehow felt the same. Something about all of them gave him a fix that was so much more potent than his indulgences. Things were changing, becoming different, new, here and there and little by little, something was changing everything. But what? What was it? What was this something? Were the changes in his life and his world just flukes? Mistakes, just like his birth? Or were they just heralds of something else? Something like…something…

He grit his teeth and abruptly shifted his hand into claws, shattering the glass bottle in his grip and letting the glass and fluid fall around his clenched fist. This was so infuriating, so frustrating. There were so many things he didn’t understand, so many thing he wanted to know and understand, but he couldn’t even figure out how the hell to go about finding those answers.

“Hell with it,” he muttered.

Might as well go to bed, there’d be more than enough booze during that party tomorrow anyway.

So he settled in and briefly before he dozed off wondered if he would have another strange sleep, if he would see other visions in his head. A strange rush of excitement disappeared as quickly as it came, that he might experience it again. If it happened again, would he understand better? Would another one of those soft furballs appear? Were they connected? What did that plant have to do with it? What did Rachel or Tensombrek or anything have to do with it? They did have some connection to it, he knew. Though he also knew thinking of it like this was going to get him nowhere. It was time to rest, he would concern himself with it again tomorrow. If answers came to him before that, somehow, then he would be more than happy to have them. Though given the recent track record he wasn’t going to wager on being that lucky.

He found himself hoping that somehow he would, despite it all.

Sleep came and went but no strange things happened again. There was no sleep-sight, no plant, and no small furry creature when he woke. It was disappointing, almost. What had he expected, really? Oh well, he still had his chance to get some answers. The festivities would have Tensombrek easily accessible the entire day, given he wouldn’t stray far from the main hall. He’d be in the midst of it, partaking of every dish, drink or woman that he would decide he wanted. Which would be a lot. Still, if he could just at least get his master to agree to speak with him later then maybe the good mood Oblivion would be in would work toward Charin’s favor.

He went about his morning routine, dressing himself and then eating the tray of food a servant had left him on his table. With his legs propped up on the table he absentmindedly chewed his meal, planning out his various steps for the day. Though, he did like a good party himself. So even if he didn’t get any answers tonight, at least he would be able to console himself by enjoying the feast. There’d be plenty of women, maybe Rachel would be working there tonight. Wait, no, she said she didn’t really like to sell like that…then again, she did-

Charin stopped, frowning. Was that why he hadn’t seen her lately? Had she been selling to others? Did she need money? She could have just asked him, he would’ve given her more-

His fingers crushed the loaf in his hand.

Rachel…selling to others? Other clients? She had been sleeping with other people-? No, no wait, he didn’t know that- but what if she had? So what if she had? A lot of people did that. Why was this such a big deal? What was this burning feeling in his chest? Why did his throat feel tight? Why was the idea of Rachel in bed with someone else causing him this…this…pain. Was this pain? It felt like pain, it felt like the pain that wasn’t pain he kept feeling lately, when people died, when that furball died… He didn’t want to think about this anymore, he didn’t like it.

Quickly and unceremoniously he finished up his meal and then left his chambers. He had duties of his own to attend to, once they were all done he would scope out the main hall and develop a strategy for his approach. Walking down the hall he stopped suddenly, looking over at the wall. Somehow he recognized the exact spot, though it had been cleaned; the spot where Tensombrek had casually thrown the little fluffy corpse. Things seemed oddly still, and quiet as he stood there, looking at the black wall. He almost wished that someone else had seen it, that he had someone next to him that he could turn to and talk about it with. Somehow it felt important that he had someone to talk about it with.

The day’s work made his own personal duties rather few and far between. There were people everywhere doing this and that, it was really crowded. At some point he grew irritated and simply leapt out the window, shifting in midair and flying off. There was nothing he was going to accomplish there today, not right now. He’d go relax elsewhere, then he’d drop by Rachel’s and see if she’d be his escort for the party tonight.