[KoJ] Chapter 87: Stubborn

It is quite an experience to be out in the open and yet not be the focus of all eyes in the area. In our trip so far, the sapients have been unable to stop themselves from regularly glancing my way… even if I wasn’t supposed to be the centre of attention.

Deciding to be small and inconspicuous was absolutely the right decision.

While it’s a little disappointing that I missed out on the opportunity to watch how sapients fought, I understand why Ceph put a stop to them. The way things were escalating, death was assured. Considering how weak so many of them are, it would have been unavoidable. Besides, the greatest thing sapients have going for them is their ability to communicate; why throw away their lives like beasts fighting over territory when they could come to an agreement. Convey their intent.

While my primary goal is to learn better ways to fight, this aspect of their society is just as interesting.

One side wants the other to fight, while the target of that intent refuses. It is a conflict you could only see from the sapients. And quite a confusing one, too. The Áinfean and portian were willing to fight… so that they wouldn’t have to fight? Like so much of their nature, I know I don’t have the full picture, so I was satisfied with sitting to the side and watching.

At least until they filed into one of the huts.

Ceph leads the leading members from both factions to the largest wooden structure around the lake, leaving the two agitated sides to continue glaring at one another from across the clearing. Leaving me to slither after them.

Neither groups that trail behind Ceph appear happy. They cast snide glances at one another, but hold back from vocalising their disdain. Just like some grumpy bilby young being led around by their mother.

Ceph’s eyes land on me, and I’ve learnt enough about body language to know she’s trying to send me one of those wordless messages — she flicks her eyes up twice after locking with mine — but I cannot even guess at her intent. Just in case there’s something in the sky that I can’t see, I create a chain of bends upwards. But no, I find nothing.

Well, whatever she was trying to say, I don’t intend to miss the rest of this discussion. I slide over the thin layer of soil and grass, weaving between portian feet as I follow. Most don’t notice me; too busy locked in a stand-off with their almost-enemies. Those that do yelp and leap away from me.

I glance back as I pass, but their fear doesn’t linger. They don’t consider me a threat after I’ve moved more than a metre. Only because of that, do I know they don’t suspect me of being anything more than I appear. Though, I don’t know why they’re so jumpy around what they think is a garden snake. With how big most of the bodies they inhabit are, the worst my facade could do is bite their ankles. They’ll hardly die.

With how used to slithering through the air I am, it takes an effort to hold myself back from just creating a bend once I reach the steps to the decking. Instead, I keep my motions as slow as the unenhanced creature I imitate, and climb. The coating over the wood is soft and springy. If it wasn’t so firm, I’d compare it to Ceph’s head.

The dohrni and her trailers have already entered the hut, so I slither straight for the door, hopeful to slip inside before they close it.

Now that I’m upon the decking, almost none of the portians and áinfean miss me. Sure, grass rose around my sides, but that should never have been enough to hide my form. It must be that light thing Hirsh talked about. Does this springy substance make me stand out like a river through an otherwise empty and silent cavern? Well, it’s fine as long as nobody stops me.

As if reading my mind, a hand reaches down and scoops me up.

“You’re a curious one, aren’t you?” the áinfean says with a soft voice.

They are shorter than the rest of their kind — likely one of their young — and has a much thicker set of wraps around the hands that grasp me than the rest. Sparks of electricity arc out over their chest, legs and tail, reaching for the anything they can find, but on the wooden deck, there is nowhere for it to go. It is a show of inferior control compared to the other áinfean.

As annoying as it is to be grabbed and lifted against my will, this one is young. Even if I was willing to harm something so weak — especially without it having attacked — any act against the child would bring about the attention of all its elders. I would rather avoid having to fight those that are just protecting one of their own.

“And nice too!” they chirp, wrapping my tail around their arm. “Every other snake I’ve picked up always bites.”

Ah. Maybe it would have been better to have given the young a slight nip.

“I’m Pere,” she says, folding her other arm under me as I try to slide away again.

For a moment, I consider giving up this entire ruse and revealing myself. Even as I lean away from her, and continue sliding towards the hut that hides Ceph, Pere pulls me back and walks the other way. I’ll miss out on their talks.

“And I’m gonna call you Em. After emeralds. Your scales are beautiful.”

…Oh? Well, it’s probably best I don’t reveal myself. I’ll do nothing but interrupt Ceph’s efforts, and scare a child.

Letting out a sigh as I’d seen Ceph do so many times, I slump into the girl’s arms while creating a tiny bend over an eye and ear so I can pay attention while I’m carried to the water’s edge.

“Oh, right. I forgot to ask. Are you a portian?” She gazes down at me with wide eyes of pure energy.

I shake my head.

“I knew you were too small, but it’s always better to-” She pauses, her legs frozen in mid step and only the massive tail dragging along the decking behind her keeps her upright. “Huh? You’re not?”

I tilt my head, then shake a negative again. Belatedly, I realise the problem and stop. I turn off to the side, and pretend to look at something in the distance. Non-sapients don’t respond; not even with body language.

While Pere blinks down at me, likely trying to decide whether I’m sapient or not, I peer into the wide cabin where the commander and a few of his soldiers sit at a long table across from Áinfean and portians. Ceph glances around briefly before she begins. She knows I’ll be trying to watch on, but the pinprick hole near the ceiling is too difficult to spot for her lacking sight.

“Alright, I don’t want to be here all day, so both of you state what you want, and we’ll get through this quick.” Ceph’s tone is harsh, and leaves no room for argument.

“I’ve already made the demands of the pact nations clear; two hundred portian, one hundred áinfean are to join the unified armies immediately. Anything less will be considered treason,” Commander Alasoic says, barely suppressing a snarl.

“Unreasonable.” Langr, the heavily muscled portian doesn’t hide his own. “In all our history, that has never been required of us. We refuse to sacrifice our own for the lives of our persecutors.”

“Hardly a persecution if it was to hunt down a criminal. A body-stealer,” the commander jabs.

“We would never!” Langr roars as his claws slam into the table. The wood splinters, and a small chunk of timber strikes Alasoic in the chest.

“Enough,” Ceph says, her voice cold enough to halt the commander as he rose from his seat. “Now… Langr, Pedan, Actan.” Those last two must be the two áinfean that have taken the lead so far. “Commander Alasoic may be an unsociable prick, but it is true that we are strained beyond our limits. If we do not use every resource we have, then this land will fall to the Henosis. Despite our… complicated history, I can assure you that it will pale in comparison to what the Empire has planned.”

“If you are so strained, then why is a Beith such as yourself here? To force our hand?” one of the áinfean says. I’m still unsure which is Pedan or Actan.

“Should I have let that elite tied in the shed back there free? I’m sure she would have loved to devastate your little lake-side paradise, Pedan.”

Finally, I know which is which. Though the áinfean look very similar — what with their bodies lacking any differentiating features because of its nature — I now know the one a slight bit taller, and with an extra layer of tail bind is Pedan.

All áinfean and portian hesitate at her offer. “We cannot leave. Grounded, our kind would be weak and exposed. None are prepared to fight in a hostile world,” Actan offers, some of their anger slipping.

Langr adds on. “And my children do not have the experience with greater bodies. Even if you provided them beasts, it would take months, maybe years to adapt.”

“Then we’ll whip them into shape,” Alasoic huffs, which only brings Ceph’s glare back to him.

“They have a right to do what they think best for their people. That is one of the core tenants of the Pact.” Her eyes narrow. “Or have you forgotten they are your people just as much as the soldiers you brought with you?”

The accusation snaps any restraint the commander still had on his temper. “You mercenaries are all the same. You think everything revolves around your efforts alone, and that nothing would change without all of us without the opportunities to gain enhancement. If not for the common soldier, your Order wouldn’t have the platform to operate. If not for us, the war would already be lost. I will not stand to have one of you interfere and say the sacrifices we make mean nothing, while giving us no other option than to make those sacrifices in the first place.”

Before the table explodes in argument again, my attention is brought back to the young áinfean that carries me.

“Can you swim?” she asks, seemingly having moved past the fact I responded to her earlier. This time, I make sure not to nod.

She hums, then slowly lowers herself from the deck into the water. Her care is obvious; none of the other áinfean have entered the water this gently, opting instead to dive in. When her thick tail of lightning is fully engulfed by the lake’s water, the uncontrolled arcs that spark out from her stop. Pere’s control is much better below the surface.

She brings me to the water and loosens her grip slightly. To reassure her that I can swim, I dive deep, though she is quick to follow. Unfortunately, I wasn’t thinking about the the distortions attached to my body, so the moment I went under, a small stream rushed through, drenching Commander Alasoic.

Whoops. I think I might have made him even madder.

Quickly, I seal the distortion with another bend. One side of the connection is blocked by my eye, while the other clamped against my scales. With such a tight seal, no water should get through.

“Oh, you swim very well,” Pere cheers. “Maybe if you can hold your breath long enough, I can show you our home.” She points down to the depths, where there is just as much coated wooden structures as above.

As she wraps me around her arms again, I resolve myself to being carried around again and refocus my attention on the meeting. Clearly, the talks only collapsed further.

“-al with a traitor.” Alasoic crashes to his feet. The soldiers by his side mimic him a moment later. “When this war is over, win or lose, Sruthland will regret their foolishness.” And with his piece said, he storms out of the cabin, and back towards the line of soldiers waiting by the trucks.

Once they are gone, Ceph turns a glare toward the áinfean and portian leaders. “You couldn’t have even offered a dozen? As much of a prick as the man is, he’s not wrong. Your hyle doesn’t hold the sway it once did. Such unwillingness to cooperate will leave you without friend.”

Ceph sighs, and leaves the table. The portian and áinfean remain to stew in their choice of stubborn refusal.

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