A soft laugh to her left got her attention. “Attempting to look like the bigger, divine beast version of yourself? Good try, Neska.”
One of your books said life imitates art. Turns out, that depiction is flat-out wrong. Neska would say something in response out loud, but she couldn’t.
She was a snake, after all. A deflating hiss was about all she could manage. She glanced up at the source of the teasing comment, her witch, Risha. She was all red hair, dark blue eyes, pale skin, and wore a light-colored conical hat with a wide brim. She covered her mouth to try to suppress a laugh. Even so, creases formed at the corners of her eyes, indicating her amusement.
“Yes, yes, likely you have no relation. Your scales are a different color. And Ouroboros was quite large. Large enough to encircle the world, even!” the witch flipped through the pages as if searching for something.
Neska was inclined to agree. Her scales were green and banded blue, and she had green eyes. Her job wasn’t devouring worlds; it was devouring mice that always bravely snuck into the potion shop, their current location. Or if not there, then their cozy cottage down the road, where Risha resided alone.
The shop was a quaint building located near the edge of town, situated in a mixed forest of elm, maple, and a few oak trees. Neska found the shop had a welcoming design and aesthetic driven by the warm-colored timber walls, neat shelves stocked with dried herbs, various alchemical ingredients, and other supplies for those travelling the road.
The witch running the place was a bonus to the experience, with her uncanny knowledge and sardonic wit. Currently, she and Neska were both in the alchemical lab in the back half of the store, where she stored various alchemical precursors. A burner set a mixture to a low simmer; at the same time, a connected tube captured the escaping gas, separating magical essences and other extracts for her potions.
Neska watched the witch continue browsing the book. A snake big enough to circle the world? That sounds quite impossible. Now, what are you up to today, Risha? I have my own 'to-do' list that doesn't involve devouring the thieving mice that scurry in here.
The witch flipped through more pages of one journal, and Neska noted the sketches and details of various monsters. Many of them were clawed, sharply fanged, and ravenous; a few looked little more than common animals like mice and deer, but larger. Some had unusual features such as feathers, extra eyes, or sharpened antlers. Risha’s journal consisted of many of these written notes she claimed she compiled over several years, and with multiple instances of observing each.
Several other tomes not written by her sat piled on the counter. Risha pointed at a slimy creature that looked like it was trying to mimic a human form, but its limbs and joints were all wrong, distended and warped. “Scary, aren’t they? They’re not, if you understand them. Their behavior, their abilities, the environments they frequent, or avoid. Knowledge is the greatest weapon against fear and the unknown.”
Well stated. She wished this weren’t a one-way conversation, so she bobbed her head gently. Risha flipped to more recent entries in the book. Neska noted several pages had been torn out. That seemed unusual.
Risha stopped at a sketch showing an altar, and an uncountable number of bodies being sacrificed for a man draped in shadow. His veiled cowl depicted a serpent not unlike Ouroboros. Blood seemed to drip off the page, though it lacked color. “Know who this is? That's Lachmir the Damned. The sketch says it all. Take one mad king, add a few thousand people who wouldn’t say no, several thousand victims who couldn’t say no, and try to forge a god from the gathered essence of the murdered. Everyone thought it was impossible.
“Everyone was also unfortunately wrong. Now no one goes to Arivol.” She flipped the pages forward. Both in topics and chronology, detailing the history since.
Neska had a looser understanding of the intervening years. Monsters spilled forth from Arivol, raided the lands, and were currently locked in a stalemate with the humanoid races. It seemed rather grim, yet the village nearby was peaceful enough.
Risha came to a stop on a page with detailed notes of a ritual. Neska noted a detailed sketch of a runic circle, along with measurements and how the elements connected. It included glyphs and detailed effects, and more importantly, how they were built and reinforced each other. “Looks complicated? It is. That was our test from a few days ago. I’ve been trying to figure out the monsters' interface for some time. I think you have one, too. But it’s inactive. Best I can tell.”
Neska blinked. Wait. Maybe…she thought about her efforts over the past few days. Risha didn’t know whether her assertion about her Interface was correct.
Except, it wasn’t inactive.
Some time after that test, Neska saw something strange appear in her vision. Not intrusive, just hanging there in the air. Text had appeared, not dissimilar to Risha’s books. These words were crisp, clean, and easy to read. Only a single line had appeared, then faded.
Interface partially unlocked; gain experience to qualify for the unlock threshold.
Gain? Gain, how? And what would it do? This is so cryptic! What is this thing? And why does it look familiar?
All she knew for sure was that it felt like she should remember this. But from when, exactly? The uncanny feeling of familiarity had persisted every day since.
She'd reasoned that maybe experience meant she should keep doing the things she was good at. If that were true, the only way to know for sure would be to do all of them, and often.
Catching more mice did nothing, except maybe leave her stomach more satisfied.
Risha looked nonplussed when Neska offered to share a spare mouse, since she had already eaten. “If you’re not going to eat it, let it go,” the witch scolded.
Neska looked at the thrashing mouse, currently receiving her specialty hug therapy. She sighed internally. Fine, mouse. You get to escape today. Sleep well, I’ll most likely hunt you tomorrow morning. She unclenched her body, and the mouse scurried off, squeaking as if Ouroboros himself were right behind it.
Risha raised her brow at this act of mercy. “I swear you’re Awakened already, but still nothing on the Interface front. Neska, do you understand me? Can you nod your head once for yes?”
She hesitated. If she knew, Risha might make her the subject of more rituals and tests. That sounded boring and would likely delay her from seeking this ‘experience’ she was puzzling over. Better to get the answer to what ‘experience’ was first.
She chose to look up and flick out her tongue. Risha wrinkled her nose in response. “Are you feigning intelligence? I swear–oh, never mind. Some other day. I’m not out of options yet.”
Neska’s self-assigned quest to find ‘experience’ quickly proved to be difficult. To her disappointment, providing neck cuddles to Risha during quieter times of the day did not, in fact, grant experience for the witch’s eased mood. Her only reward was a smile and head scritches.
Alright. If it’s not hunting or providing hug therapy, what’s left? Oh, I know! Read more books. If I’m lucky, Risha will leave a book on the table indicating what I’m looking for.
If nothing else, the journals provided insight into the world, including locations, history, and a rather hefty collection of monsters and their origins. This volume dealt with smaller, more common monsters. She’d gotten good at flicking through the pages with her tail to examine them.
Giant rats. Even bigger giant rats. Rodents of peculiar volume? Do they come in subvariants, too?
After a while, Risha sauntered over, letting out an amused tone. “Find anything interesting?”
Neska froze, then slowly turned her head. Who? Me? Nope, I’m totally not reaping forbidden knowledge that is going to backfire on me. That knowledge is likely in your locked tomes.
It probably wasn’t forbidden knowledge. Risha was kind and helped the villagers with curing various maladies, providing defensive wards against pests and monsters, and healing the injured and sick. Maybe healing arts were a secret thing?
Risha closed the book, and soon after, they headed home. Neska was not happy about that.
I have gained knowledge, but no experience. She let out an internal sigh. Could I try to write a message for Risha? Maybe I do need to talk to her to find this ‘experience’, and take the hit on more testing. I wonder if I could…
She glanced at her tail. Could I? It's not like I can speak like Risha and the other humanoids. And I lack hands. And legs.
This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.
The idea of dipping her tongue into ink sounded like a terrible idea. That left the tail. Do I understand writing well enough? I can read it. Which means I surely can replicate it!
The next day, she tried.
And failed, repeatedly. Replication of this feat required hands, she concluded.
The reason? Wrapping her tail around the metallic-looking ink pen was not easy. Her muscles were not designed for this!
Not only that, she had to time it so that Risha was occupied at her alchemy bench–the first time she’d seen it, she thought Neska was playing with her ink pen, and moved her off the table. Come on, Risha! Now that I need to talk to you for sage advice, you keep moving me away from my means of communication!
This continued for a few days, making incremental progress. She developed a steadier grip for the pen, but couldn't hold it long enough to write or dip it into the ink pot. And when she was able to lift it, she had trouble lining up the pen with the pot to draw ink. C’mon, all this effort to write a few words?!
Her grip slipped, and the pen rolled over the edge of the table and landed on the floor. She peeked over the edge, disappointed.
The sharp point of the pen was stuck fast in the wood, having stabbed into the material from the height of the fall. What a pain; that was the fourth time it had rolled off. Risha thought she was doing it to grab attention, and gave her a playful scolding.
Great. Now I have to grab it and bring it back up. Too bad I couldn't have the inkpot–
An idea struck her. Oh. Here's my solution. Put gravity to use! Why fight it when you can use it?
Some time later, Risha attended to a customer at the shop front, buying the snake an opening. Neska slid the pen up and over a stack of books. Then, she lined up the inkpot after carefully undulating her body to move it.
She lifted the lid, set it aside gently, then positioned her body and tail to push the pen straight into the pot. She did it slowly, using small motions to guide it. Bits of the conversation floated by from the other room as she did so.
“Risha, I’m serious. Tier ones of the Varadur are massing. That’s the rumor I keep hearing from the army garrison. And the Seekers, those damn blighted red-clad killers. More Tier twos are showing up, too.”
“I would consider those to be just rumors. Consider your source: when the Seekers aren’t hunting and killing monsters, and run into a problem? They invent a monster,” the witch retorted. Neska was too busy pulling the now primed ink pen out. And finally, she succeeded.
Yes! Wait, hold up. What should I write? She could write anything. But, maybe her name? And ‘Interface’ as well.
Tailsmanship is no joke. I am somewhat envious of the hands the gods and goddesses gave humanoids. I want a pair, too!
But that wasn't possible. She wasn't a monster, and only monsters evolved. Risha said it every day, with soft-spoken words as if it were a mantra.
You are not a monster. You are not a monster.
Weird. Is she saying that to me? Or…is she saying that about herself? Okay, figure that one out later. I need to write a demand letter for a mouse-summoning potion. Either how to make it, or she'll brew it for me.
She drew the pen carefully on the small stack of clean paper left on the table. Remarkably, the ink didn't spill out of the pen; instead, it remained captive. She slowly moved her tail, wrapped tightly around the instrument, and pressed it to the paper, letting gravity do the work for her.
She heard Risha getting agitated in the background. “Did you get the salts I asked for, or not?”
“I did, but I heard they might put it on the confiscation list. Supplies for mages and casters are low. Losing Galwin Valley hurt us, Risha. Where are the Awakened? Why aren’t they being brought to the front? They’re our best hope!”
N…e…s…wait, is it with a ‘c’, or a ‘k’? Here she was, putting in the work, and the witch was gossiping. She had no idea how hard it was for a snake to write!
She went with ‘k’ instead, and finished with the letter ‘a’. The pen slid on occasion, leaving extra squiggles, and also smeared the ink on her scales when she slid. Yet, she maintained her grip. If this experience went well, she hoped Risha would make her a real witch someday. Maybe she’d get a snake-sized hat to match!
‘Interface’ was harder to write, but she managed. She set the pen back down in the well and coiled in a small hop of celebration on the table. Yes! I did it!
Said spring also caused the papers to flutter to the floor, face down. Risha came into the back a moment later, frowning at Neska as she stared at the missing paper, which had fluttered under the table, out of sight, and under several others. Oh, come on!
“Neska, I want you to go hunt some mice. Grab as many as you can,” Risha instructed. “Just as a precaution, okay?”
Hunt mice? I wrote legible letters with my tail! This is far more important! She let out a hissing frustration, and Risha cocked her head, chuckling. “Were you playing with the ink? You spilled the papers. You’ve also got ink on your tail. While you’re at it, go swim and clean off,” she added with a sigh.
Something was wrong, though. Risha had that dark look just now. She’d seen it before. Usually, when someone mentioned monsters. Or the Seekers. And it was darker than usual. Her hands trembled slightly as she set Neska down on the ground. “Be back soon, alright? I know you’re a fast hunter. My pantry has barely suffered any intruders.”
She then closed the door. Neska banged her tail on the door repeatedly, hissing in agitation. Really? Really!? Today of all days, you want to get some space!?
A muffled sigh emanated from the door. “Dear, just go hunt. Pretend it's a game to catch them all!”
Neska stared at the door, her frustration rising. Fine! I’ll go and hunt some mice. Then I’m making sure you know that I’ve been trying to grow as more than an emotional hug therapy lizard noodle! And I want a witch hat. And hands, maybe!
All that work, and still nothing! She slithered into the forest, where mice were plentiful. The trees were dressed in bright green colors, and yellow and cyan star-shaped flowers popped up occasionally from the soft grass and moss-covered ground.
Maybe she was overreacting? I’ll be fine. I’ll show her the paper. Then she can tell me what the Interface is. Why didn’t I do this ages ago? I never had the urge until that message showed up. She continued to undulate across the ground, sticking to taller grass where her green and blue scales blended in well.
Come to think of it, how did she learn to read and start writing? Risha had read to her or read aloud, even just after Neska hatched from her egg, into her waiting hands. She might have spoken to her before that, with her soft voice echoing from outside her shell.
It felt like small bits of her mind were unlocking…as if she already knew these things. But, how, if that were the case?
She heard someone singing nearby as she approached her favorite clearing and hunting ground. Curious, Neska got in for a closer look, slinking through underbrush, then inched forward between tall blades of green and cyan grass, near the clearing edge. She blended in well.
She poked her head out to see a girl, no more than five or six, playing by a tree stump with a doll. She was singing–perhaps to her doll, or maybe because she liked the tune. The girl lived nearby, and she’d seen her and her mother frequent the shop.
Well, she likely scared all the mice away. Oh, but what an innocent child. I should just let her be; she seems content.
She wasn’t worried about the child's reaction, even if she spotted her. But many of the adult shoppers at the shop gave Neska wary glances, or even kept their distance. On the rare occasion that Risha travelled to town with her, they got dirty looks. She wasn’t convinced they were aimed at Risha, either.
The girl combed her doll with what looked like a wooden brush, humming contentedly. Sunbeams illuminated her dark hair and fair-skinned features. Neska would smile if she could. I'm glad you can be happy and carefree. Well, time to–
She stopped. She heard a scraping, chittering sound, faint but getting closer. Something rustled through the forest underbrush, the chittering sound growing louder, followed by intermittent distorted squeaks. It sounded almost like rats, but no rat she’d ever heard before.
The girl must have sensed it too, and rose to her feet, doll clutched in her hand. The lack of other sounds made the forest feel eerie, especially without her melodious voice. Her eyes went wide as she looked out toward the sounds. “Mae, it’s just the wind,” she whispered, clutching the doll tighter.
It was not the wind. Neska could feel something out there in the woods, with her body pressed to the ground. Something horrible. A maddening chitter and ragged breathing.
Girl. Run. Run to the road, the town is right there. Go right now.
But the girl didn’t. She stood there on the stump, limbs trembling and her eyes filled with fear, looking out toward the shifting of grass blades and low bushes.
Then, they came, chittering and beady-eyed, moving erratically.
Neska wished they were just rats. These were something far, far worse. These were giant rats, half the size of the child, with blood-red eyes, curved teeth that protruded at unnatural angles from their mouths, and mangy-looking black fur with crimson banding. Long, wormlike tails whipped behind them. When they spotted the child, the chittering sound grew in intensity, gnawing on the air itself.
Run right now!
Every instinct told Neska to run. Hide in the grass, slither back to the shop, warn Risha somehow. But she knew there wasn’t time. Not enough for the girl to run. Not enough to get help. Even small monsters could inflict deadly bites.
She snaked her way to the rat on the flank as they locked focus on the girl. She undulated her body as fast as she could. Get away from her! I hunt vermin like you for food, and you just moved to the front of my menu!
The girl started to cry, finally snapping into action and slowly backing away. The rats advanced, the chittering rising into a maddening noise that grated on Neska’s hearing. The one closest to Neska coiled its legs, as if it were about to bolt forward and attack the girl.
It swiveled its head just in time to see Neska spring forward with all her body strength. Its eyes widened just before she sank her fangs into the rat's face. On impact, she wrapped her body around its neck and constricted as forcefully as she could. She squeezed down so its snout aligned upward, unable to bite at her. It tried to scratch at her scales, thrashing frantically.
She threw her body weight and rolled the creature onto its side, biting down again, and heard its chittering turn into an airless gasp. Its claws scraped frantically, trying to find purchase on her body. She felt a sear of pain as one finally raked in.
But she continued. This rat was not walking away from this encounter.
The other rats had redirected their focus. They circled Neska, having given up on stalking the girl. The girl started screaming and crying for help.
Neska heard the exact moment when the rat couldn’t fight her anymore. She constricted her body with every ounce of muscle she had. Her effort led to a satisfying wet snap, and the body went limp, the rat’s neck twisted at an unnatural angle. Beady eyes stared at her in vacant terror.
Who’s next?! Neska roared within the confines of her mind and unfurled her body, leaving the corpse in its death twitches. The two remaining rats circled her position, and she slid back, keeping them from trying to flank her. The girl screamed–not in fear, but in anger, and had dropped her doll. From somewhere in her outfit, she produced a small glint of silver, held in shaking hands.
Run, don’t stay here! Neska kept her eyes focused on the closer rat, watching it clack its teeth together. The way it moved unnerved her, all of its movements twitchy and erratic. This creature looked crazed, like it might try to attack her even though it had just witnessed its fellow rat die of venom and a crushed neck.
A tingle spread through her mind. Now, of all times, those faint letters reappeared. But this time, with a new message.
Experience Threshold Reached. Partial Interface Unlock in progress…
Finding out what it took to gain experience with this curious Interface left her with a solitary, body-chilling dread. Somewhere, in the back of her mind, she grimly acknowledged that this was not a discovery she should have pursued.
The lead rat pounced toward her, teeth bearing down and eager for a bite of scaly flesh.