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“Hold and announce yourselves.” the man said in Achean, stepping into view from around a tree. “Who are you? Why are you here, in our lands?”

A Mwarri, Kismet’s people.

I had defenses against fear, against stress, against spirits running rampant through my soul.

[You have taken 8 points of Emotional (Sorrow) damage. 8/30 Serenity remain.]

It was, in the parlance of the psyche, a trigger. We had made it to safety. To civilization. And my only feeling was caused by Kismet not being there to see it, to experience her own culture. Or perhaps the remnants of culture.

And she wasn’t even dead! There were vast... lacks of people in my life. And although I locked that pain up, it was still there. Just waiting for a reason, any reason, to come bursting forth all at once. They were deep wells, and I needed to somehow tap them, to let the surplus... well, just let it out.

I found myself collapsed forward, as though shoved from behind. Mother Bear was sitting on her butt, just licking her palms clean.

Brownie was out of the cart, lying on the grass on his right side, stretched out in the sun.

.....

It was Blackpaw who had his cold nose shoved into the crease where my jaw met my neck. he told his kindred. he said to me.

I said,

“I’m sorry.” I said, gathering myself to rise. “What was the question, again?”

There were eight of them, all staring at me like I’d just told them I was a carrier of Blood Mist. Which, to be fair, was actually true.

The dark brown one with beige spots asked his questions again.

“I am Rhishsisikk.” I said. “I travel with Mother Bear and her two children, to see them to the edge of the Elven Wood, where they desire to request to settle. Once that is done, I have my own errand that requires I travel to the Maze of Othello.”

“Our lands border upon those of the elves, and they have been very welcoming to sentient folk of bestial nature recently. So long as they harm none, the bears are welcome in our lands.”

At me, he pointed a finger. “You are known to us, Black Eyes. You are an eater of sentient beings. Our borders are closed to you. Go back to the border of our lands and that of the Tikich-Tikich. Go north, go south, even go west, if the mood takes you. But seek not to come into our lands. Wherever the shadows of the trees fall, that land is forbidden to you.”

“Goblins!” I said. “I ate goblins, and know of no shame for doing so.”

“Monsters that eat other monsters are still monsters.” he replied. “I recommend you turn north. The single eyed cyclopses see goblins as you do, as food.”

I inhaled deeply, but he continued. For over two minutes, a litany of evils and gluttony, only part of which I could match.

“Fine.” I said. “Let me gather my siblings, and we shall go.”

As I moved to do so, an arrow planted itself into the ground just before my foot.

“I am perhaps not being clear.” he said. “If those are your siblings, they must come to you. We do not forbid your type, nor any profession you might have. Nor are we counter to any particular faith. It is only you, eater of the taboo, who are forbidden entry.”

“And... if I were to leave them with you, then you would care for them?”

He snorted. “We are not nursemaidens. Let the elves care for them, or else let them fend for themselves.”

It was like herding turtles. They were each of them slow and heavy, built up to where their muscles could barely move them. Except for Violet, who was capable of moving quickly.

But with one, two, and three siblings, all safe in my backpack, I bade farewell to Mother Bear, and turned back west.

I turned right, moved parallel but in reverse direction of the mana stream. I didn’t tarry, but neither did I race. I still don’t know what I expected there at the border between the two peoples, but I wanted to have every instant of healing that was available to me.

I need not have worried, not that first day. Nothing more violent than ants attacked me, although people from both factions had questions. These I answered honestly, if not as completely as I might when my stomachs were full.

The full moon peeking through the clouds, I put up a tarp, weighted it on three sides, and settled in for a night of lucid dreaming.

“Kid, tell me you didn’t fight that disease spirit of yours again.” Manajuwejet said.

“He found more fertile grounds, and is on his way to becoming a manitou.”

“Well, then what the heck tore up your soul like that?”

“My own emotions.” I admitted. “You see...”

He clapped his pincers over as many of his eyes as he could make them cover. “No. Nope. Never mind. Sorry I asked. You stupid mortals are your own worst enemies, sometimes. At least smooth down some of those ragged wounded areas with some hope or happiness or something.”

I don’t need to tell you that I had little enough of either of those things. Duty and Discipline, though, can be made to suffice. It was the existential equivalent of combing one’s hair and brushing one’s teeth in an attempt to hide the bruises of being on the losing end of a fight.

“Well, I guess that’s just as good as it’s going to get tonight. Come on, kid. Sobek’s waiting.”

Who was waiting was... not Sobek. He didn’t even bother to stand upright, or wear clothing, or conceal the fact he was anything other than an awakened... I didn’t know what a caiman was, exactly. He looked like a crocodile mutation to me.

“Ah, there you are. Sobek’s little black bastard.”

I looked down, seeing only greens and browns among my scales, the only black being the omegas that graced the back of each hand, the top of each foot.

“Don’t overthink it. Look, I could put on the mask, pretend to be Sobek. But really, why? Besides, I’m impressive enough on my own.”

“Okay.” I said.

“Look. He’s upset. You are supposed to be far to the east of here. Or to the south. Or even to the west, avenging yourself upon a bunch of sentient cockroaches. What are you doing here?”

I rubbed my throat, where the skin was getting dried and gummy, ready to peel off when I started my yearly shedding. And I let the words come out. My task, my journey, my new family.

And he just lay there, blinking at me.

“No.” he finally said.

“No?”

“No. Sobek doesn’t care. Or rather, he does, but not about the things that are important to you or I. When you killed that bug that bit your younger brother? THAT is what makes Sobek happy.”

“If he thinks to endanger my family for his fun...”

“And we’re right back to NO, again. Mortal being, cosmic power. You literally can’t do anything that will do more than piss him off, and if you do that, he’ll probably just kill you. Like, for example, a cyclops would.”

“You know about that?” I asked.

“I’m a spirit, I’m not stupid.” he said. “People forget that while cyclopses are lesser giants, that they are still giants. They are a physical power second only to dragons, and they are faster than people think they should be. They can crush boulders or trees with a casual flex of their strength. Anger one, and they’ll crush you and not even bother to feel sorry about it later.”

“I’m tougher than most...” I said.

“Base damage 64. Goes up to 96 if they hit you with a tree trunk or chunk of stone. Base damage 128 if you find one that still has a weapon from the Dragon Age. You just aren’t of that same scale. These are the sort of monsters that GROUPS of heroes are reluctant to fight.”

“So I don’t fight.” I said. “Which do cyclopses see worse in, darkness or daylight?”

“Ah.” he sighed. “So you CAN listen, unlike what I’ve been told of you. All right, pull up a stretch of warm river bank, and listen up.”

And I learned much of cyclopses, of their physiology, and their culture, and yes, even of their magic.

“So, yeah.” he finished up. “I fully expect that if you cross cyclops land, you’ll die. Probably quickly, but you’ll die.”

“I’ve a day or two before I need to make that decision.” I said. “Gives me time to think it over.”

There is a debate among naturalists of my world whether caiman, crocodile, or alligator is the root species, and how the others came to be. I filed it in my mental box for “tripe I don’t have time for unless I get really bored”.