Something pinched in her shoulder. It happened again. She looked down at it with a hiss, finding that she could really only turn her head.
Stripes of light were there, glowing bright like the sun. She could see that the ground was illuminated behind her as well. More on my back?
Another pinch, and the one closest to her head closed a bit more.
Well done, neonate.
You’ve become Victory at last.
The true fight begins.
She looked around for the speaker, confused. It wasn’t her Instinct, it was someone, something else.
Her Instinct was gone...
Gone!
No!
Her eyes widened as the horrifying silence grew inside her soul.
No!
She had been cursed like the Smoothskins!
Another pinch, and then another. She hissed and struggled. She looked down at what held her, and what she thought were vines proved to actually be vipers! Constricting around her body.
W-what? Constricting vipers?
She strained, twisting painfully, and they writhed in turn. The neonate was slammed onto her chest, pinned by the weight of serpents.
She snarled. No time to think, had to get free! Kill them!
Around her the paradise that was the swamp withered and died. The river dried up. The earth crackled with the heat.
A hornet landed on her back, slamming its sting into the muscles of her abdomen. Mandibles holding her down tight.
It burned like fire! And the leaves fell from the trees, crisping into embers as they fell.
She yowled.
She could smell the smoke. Her roasting meat. Enemies! Fight!
She struggled in vain, hissing. The trees burst into flames, crumbling to ash, and the vision ahead expanded. Wind like hot breath in her face blowing as the geography was twisted and rent before her.
There was another pinch at her shoulder.
Pinch pinch pinch. Several more in her back now.
“Hold her down.”
She would not be held! She would die fighting!
She could hear another hornet land on her. Its chattering mandibles. It stung the base of her tail and she smelled her searing meat.
She was careening down the river now, the water boiling as the earth beneath her shifted. She saw a lake, a massive lake with rolling waves. Smelled of salt. Spread out to the horizon. Strange white and gray birds wheeled above. Cackling at her.
She snapped her jaw at them and her head was pressed into the sandy soil.
“She doesn’t make it easy.”
She never would for her enemies!
Pinch pinch pinch. All along her back now.
Over the breakers and along the coast, the world roasted with heat. The land was aflame. Not dying, but already dead. Being cooked. Being prepared for consumption.
Pinch pinch pinch. Somehow she knew it was almost over.
Massive bones. White and gray. Exposed like ribs of stone. Rushing towards her where she lay. She could smell something evil there. A pair of eyes, round pupiled, gleaming with a weird glow. Unblinking, unyielding, made to only stare. They were reminiscent of the mushrooms in the temple below.
She couldn’t help but shiver.
And behind them, countless others. Scaleless. Hideous. Innocent and guilty and everything in between. Strange rituals in a massive tower. Vicious crimes in wrinkles of stone. Shadows became trails for predators to hunt. All bound by fear and tradition and the yellow earthbone sheen.
And within those, hidden, baring gleaming venom filled fangs. Vertical pupils. Both like and unlike her own.
She snapped back, rushing to where she had been at the beginning in a blur. Surrounded by snakes.
She kicked out at another larger serpent. It had arms and legs like a Truescale, but with no tail. It fell back with a hiss. A hood spread from its head and neck, fangs glinting white. Evil yellow venom dripping. With a hiss it shot forward to strike.
Falsescale!
Dripping maggots. Reeking putrefaction. Mutating into something non-Truescale.
One-eye.
“No! I will not be corrupted! I am Truescale!” She shrieked.
A pinch that tore.
“Where is it?” The monster hissed, grabbing her throat.
She didn’t know what it was talking about, and that didn’t matter. She spat in its eye. “Death to the Falsescaled!”
It hissed and squeezed her throat. “Tell me and I will make the pain stop. Tell me and I will make you more powerful! Bigger! Taller!”
Another pinch. Then another. The stings from the hornets still throbbed horribly.
Hesitation washed across her like a splash of water, and she hated herself for it. “Lies!” She knew what such a deal would bring. How can I even consider that? Where was her Instinct? Was this why it was gone? Was she unworthy?
She thrashed and kicked. She wouldn’t die! She wouldn’t give up. Not if it meant becoming that.
Be ready. I am sorry, little Victory.
The creature looked up into the sky and hissed in rage, looking back to the neonate. “Then die!” With gleaming fangs its head shot forward! They were about to pierce her flesh!
No!
“Wake now neonate!” The deep voice was prefixed to be calming, soothing. The world became darkness. She realized she knew it. The monster was gone. The voice, it was that of the Provider. Of Tok.
Saving her from this nightmare.
Her eyes snapped open. She was on her back in the sandy soil of the original nest. The remaining Greenscales had pinned her down. Axmaker sat up rubbing her bloody snout. Glaring at the neonate.
I kicked her? A dream… just a dream. She hadn’t known she had been panting. Her eyes widened, and she searched for her Instinct. Relief radiated from it as it rushed to fill her mind once more. Soothing and present.
She hadn’t lost it. She wasn’t cursed twice over. A curse of small size she could overcome. But not…
Quiet. Her Instinct hissed from her mind. Agitated at her own weakness.
There was another painful pinch in her shoulder and she snarled, turning to look.
Design was there, and between his claws he held an ant with large gleaming mandibles. The ant bit into her skin, pinching more of the bite in her shoulder shut. Design twisted the body off of the insect, slipping it into his mouth and snacking on it. He reached into a small earthbone container, pulling out another. Her tongue flickered out weakly.
Something nearby smelled… hot. It was a unique smell, something she couldn’t place. Especially with all the food smells surrounding her.
Prepare! Her Instinct hissed.
Before she could ask the male about the insects, agony lanced through her side. She looked down. Her flesh sizzled and popped as a glowing piece of earthbone pressed ruthlessly against her. Fisher was burning the arrow wound closed with it. Her pattern flickered smug orange, and she glimpsed the color from Axmaker as well. She growled at them both.
SNAP!
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The color vanished from the pair, and both they and the neonate turned to look over at Biter.
“She has lived. Do your duty.” Biter’s words were slightly slurred, her prefixes bitter. Still, saying them at all was a surprising reversal from the apex.
She was still lying on the ground as well. Head bandaged and in Slash’s lap as he held a wooden bowl of the herb leaves and berries to her mouth. His one hand and claws wrapped tight with bandages. He bared his teeth at her before looking away, continuing to administer the medicine to his former rival.
The neonate looked at the others she could see, counting.
Eighteen.
So few. It was a wonder she was amongst them. Regardless of her Instinct’s pride.
Tok leaned back, grunting loudly. “Now, we have heard the justifications of all of you. I would hear the justifications of this neonate here.” He rumbled.
Justifications? Another ant bit her and she winced, her mind sluggish. Was that not her flesh cooking? It was too constant a smell for it to be just from her.
Focus! The traitor. Her Instinct snapped.
Her thoughts catching up she winced against another pinch and began. “I killed the Trapmaker. The one to the south. The male with all of the pits.”
Tok grunted.
“He betrayed me.” She said simply, the others letting her go, the tending done for a moment.
“Such is war. How is this a justification?” Fisher interrupted. She still held the glowing earthbone poker, looking eager to use it again.
She looked at the flat-tailed female. “He betrayed me to enemies. You and others. He did it in exchange for his own safety.”
“And why does this work as justification, little one.” Tok rumbled, cutting off the others.
“He was weak. He was frightened and let his fear rule him.” She let her tongue flicker out.
Something was cooking.
Consume! Her Instinct growled from her belly.
She swallowed some drool and continued. “He did not even leave his territory during the culling. Not in waiting to ambush. But to avoid the directive entirely.” She looked at the rest “The Falsescaled would capitalize on such tendencies.”
“So it wasn’t about payback at all?”
“Two eggs in my palm is more than one.” She hissed. She wouldn’t deny a desire to kill him, nor would she deny her hate for the apexes.
But there is a greater goal to be achieved.
She looked to Tok. Stared into his half-lidded red eyes.
“True enough. What of the actors though? Of these four?” He pointed with a massive claw at Fisher, Axmaker, Bowmaker, and Design.
They paused. They hadn’t been named yet. He was within his rights to cull them if they were unworthy.
“Never be ashamed of the tools you use.” She quoted.
He grunted, lifting his head to flash the red spot on his neck and chest. She could sense the confusion of the others. She could have tried to lie. Attempt to get Tok to cull them.
It is like they don’t understand. She had seen the question for what it truly was right away. A test for her, not them.
Speak.
“I begrudge nothing done in this test. It has served well to solidify my worthiness, correct Provider?” Let them see a mask of confidence. And let me hide my fear.
She could feel them all tense. Feel the blood lust. Her knife was at her side, and she felt her Instinct slowly pick it up.
She eyed the others, each staring with unblinking fascination at her. She looked back at the Provider.
Those inscrutable red eyes didn’t blink.
A fish jumped in the river, landing with a loud slapping sound.
Tok grunted.
“Come, all should eat.” He rumbled.
The space in front of Tok’s shelter had been made into a massive feast. A great pit still glowed with coals next to a long line of leaves clearly set for them all to sit and eat at.
Fresh fruits, yellow dripping pridefruit with their massive seeds, crunchy red ragefruits tart and sweet, whiptail bulbs mashed and fried golden brown and salted, spiky rot-fruit with its pungent smell, and many others that her Instinct couldn’t readily name.
And that wasn’t all.
There were snipbugs, steamed in banana leaves and coated in spices, there was roasted ducks, plucked of their feathers and a deep mahogany brown, their eggs boiled with the shells still on, and three whole roasted gators.
A pile of tikabo grilled and coated in a gravy of their rendered fat lay steaming, and there was a massive crock of their eggs, stewed into a gelatinous delicacy.
There was fresh clear water available in wooden bowls to drink, as well as tea. Bright golden honey tea. It was made from pillarwood leaves, and it steamed in earthbone kettles, dented from travel and use.
Sweetened and made savory with the grubs and honey of hornets.
A veritable paradise of food and drink.
All surrounding the main course.
It was the massive python that had died while she had been fighting against Axmaker and Bowmaker. She hissed, for a moment unnerved by it. Then she saw it was cooking over fires made from the trees it had knocked down in its death throes.
Dead. And roasting. She needed to get over her fear. Not all snakes were Falsescaled.
Her Instinct grunted.
She looked at Axmaker and Bowmaker. Both stared back. Axmaker’s tongue flickered out and she nodded. Bowmaker glared then looked away. Both recognized the beast as well.
They all stuffed themselves. The creature big enough for them all to find space to eat. Tok intervening once or twice to remind them all that the trial was completed.
The neonate had never been so full of such good food.
“Where did you find this beast, Provider?” One of the others asked. One she didn’t know. “It would be good to learn your hunting techniques.”
Tok tore a mighty hunk of flesh from the steaming carcass with his teeth. Its grease dripping down his chin as he chewed with some relish.
He swallowed and turned. “Where your sister left it dead in the forest to the south.” He took another big bite, this time into the liver. Still bloody. The drops sizzled and hissed in the coals.
When the others signaled blue confusion, he glanced at the neonate. Pale purple disbelief flickered across many of their patterns.
“You must be less wasteful sister.” Axmaker growled, pale yellow amusement swirling on her shoulders. “I know you were distracted by my prowess but leaving your kill behind,” She shook her head, “so wasteful.”
The little apex felt her own amusement flash across her own shoulders, though she winced. She forced herself to only use one shoulder to signal.
The Provider placed the heart in front of her. Glistening with viscera still. “Eat. You lost much blood.” His words were slightly muffled, mouth still full of liver.
It was the size of her head.
Drool leaked from her mouth and she seized it with both hands, tearing into it with gusto. Golden yellow flashing in stripes on her face.
She could feel the other’s hostile looks. But she could see the begrudging acknowledgment in Biter’s eyes.
Tok placed a goodly portion of liver in front of the others with bad injuries, saying the same thing. She had wanted to try the liver of such a beast. But once she had stuffed herself full with the heart, she found herself too content. Her hunger completely sated.
For the moment, anyway.
When the last scrap of food was eaten, when all were fat and lazy with contented bellies, something about the situation shifted.
She could feel it, a sort of excitement. And she could see the others feel it too. Even Biter sat up, wobbling slightly still.
“It is time.” Tok rumbled in between licking his claws. “The naming.”
Excitement flickered through their patterns. They grew more vibrant as Tok stood, the ground shaking beneath his feet.
“A full cycle of the year you have been hatched. But here is your true hatching.” He rumbled, looking at each in turn. “While the unnamed are deemed unworthy, it is a sin to forget the fallen.”
The Provider gestured out towards the rest of the island. “They are not going to be wasted. Their meat will feed the predators and plants of this place, revitalizing it so that it may be used again after. The unending cycle continues.”
Together they grunted. Shaking their heads, joints popping back into place. The neonate waited impatiently.
Calm, last. Her Instinct hissed softly.
“This trial has shaped you all. Into sharp claws, mighty tails, and honed minds for the brood.” His lazy crimson eyes lingered on the neonate for the last. They slid back to the group “In deference to the gods these names are given in the order of your first hatching.”
Damn.
And so, he named them.
Vuthra for Biter, mighty-tooth it meant. Then Gezgix for Slash, long-claw. There were four others she didn’t know, and she found herself getting impatient. And worried.
The names of the others were all based on physical traits.
Will I be marked forever then? The Provider wouldn’t do that to her, would he?
Worse would be something like, Vuthkella, mighty-mind. A clear show of sympathy for someone as stunted as her.
Trust.
Bowmaker was ninth, getting the name Zavaess, deadly-arrow.
Maybe something to do with her knife? But she didn’t want her identity to be tied to her weapon like that.
Twelfth was Axmaker, who received Erthung. Stone-warrior. It was almost the same phrase for the third genera. The dwarves.
Blade-warrior? No… That was too hard to say.
Design was next, Scithaan, hidden-predator. The neonate started to worry less, though a lingering doubt remained.
It surprised her when it got down to her and Fisher. She hadn’t known that they were so close in their hatching. She got Vuthsesk, mighty-swimmer.
And then it was her turn.
The Provider turned to her, gleaming crimson eyes wide and attentive.
“You, little one, more than any of the others, have earned this name.”
She swallowed.
He grunted. “Henceforth, you are named Vivex.”
She blinked. Stubborn-victory? She pondered it for a moment.
A kingbill rattled in the distance.
The cicadas hummed.
She could hear a croc rumbling to mark its territory.
All of the swamp waited.
Sunrise yellow flashed across her body. Together, she and her Instinct grunted.
Tok’s tone changed, the corners of his eyes crinkling ever so slightly. “You have made me proud, little Vivex.” And pride bloomed inside her.
Later that day, they both stood at the bank of the river, ritually washing themselves clean before sitting and watching the sunset. She was careful not to disturb the ant heads pinning her wounds shut. She was shedding again, and as always was pleased by that.
The others had already headed out. Picked up by Greenscales paddling upriver. Taking them inland towards Szez’tek-Shrahaam, where her Provider said there was a mighty temple.
“You all will go that way. Receive your instructions there.” He had said.
But not before the neo-, before Vivex had grilled several on some finer points of their skills, exchanging some pointers in return on how they could better their camouflage, and the use of berries alongside the herb leaves.
She learned that the wood for the bow that Bowmaker, now Zavzess, used was from the Brainfruit tree. That Scithaan, once Design, had been toying with the idea of forgoing use of his scales entirely and using a sort of netting with debris tied to it to best hide on the ground. And she got some real good pointers about how to move in a fight from Vuthra, once she could get the one previously known as Biter to focus through the concussion for a moment.
It was… difficult for them all to do this at first. A year of hate, suspicion, and rivalry was not overcome easily. But they all knew that they were heading out to the brood. That the real fight, the fight against the Falsescaled, had to take precedence.
But soon it was just her and the Provider. She had a fresh piece of Brainfruit wood. Pealed and drying by the fire, the ends coated thickly in pine tar.
“You will stay, Vivex. And travel with me.” He rumbled.
He didn’t explain why he wanted that, but it pleased her to do so, so she just grunted and turned the stick that she planned to carve into a bow during the trip. Neither said anything to the other. Just enjoying the quiet of the moment.
She didn’t know what would come next in her life. But that was just part of the unending cycle. They all knew that now.
And I survived! I have a name…
Victory… Her Instinct agreed, pleasure mirrored in both halves of her mind.
It would take her away from this place. Out into the world. A world she now wanted to see, to explore, to delve. Out into it to grow even stronger and face fresh challenges. To keep her strong. To test her before she had her own offspring.
After it became dark he stood, his eyes reflecting in the moonlight as he looked down at her.
She scrambled up onto his back. He turned, heading up river.
Thu-thum!
His steps resonated through the earth.
She looked on with excitement, fighting sleep. Not wanting to miss any of it. Not wanting to miss this quiet time with her Provider.
“I will come back.” she said. Glancing at the Provider.
Red eyes swiveled to regard her. They slid forward again.
Tok grunted.
They both retained the silence after that. Savoring the company of the other.
It is a lie to say that the Naming is the proudest moment of a Provider. The true proudest moment is hearing that name spoken back to you over and again in the cycles to come. A name is a prayer for the future. And if it fits, then your neonate will go far. May it always be so.
-From Neonatum Provisae: Endnote.
Nothing will stop me on my path. I swear it. Thank you for my name, and everything after, my Provider.
-Inscribed beneath the Endnote in the copy quoted here.
The End of The Trial of Vivex. Book One in The Saga of Vivex.
PATREON! It is 15 chapters (or FIVE WEEKS) ahead, and I am working hard to get it up to 20, with plans to add even more!