《To be Like One’s Enemy》


 Part 1

    Deep in the remains of a fresh battlefield, among the still cooling corpses of humans and the mutilated limbs of inhuman things laid what appeared to be a woman¡¯s head. Parts of her long white hair dyed red, dirtied, and unkempt from rolling in the dirt and mud. She twitched.


    A pain of such magnitude shook her core and overflowed from her in a scream. She had to scream. If she did not, it felt as though the pain might build within her until she was torn asunder from within.


    Tears flowed from her eyes. All other thoughts and sensibilities were pushed out. All that existed was grief. Her blue eyes were blind and ears were deaf to all else. If she had been standing she might have fallen to her knees.


    She was not alone in her suffering, others broken and scattered across the battlefield raised their voices in a chorus of sorrow, weeping and wailing in unison, the red moon silently wept with them muted by distance. But they were too consumed in their own misery to recognize the company they had in each other.


    She sought thoughts, any thoughts. Anything at all. Anything, even despair would reduce the pain for nothing could stoke it further. It was already so overwhelming.


    She retraced her memories, remembering what brought her there. She along with many others had moved to intercept an army that intended to interfere with what she now knew was the final battle.


    She assisted the one that served as bait, acting as the main leaders for their enemies to see so the humans might overextend their reach to try to eliminate her comrade. The one she worked with, Ad Scy, was the perfect choice to serve as a lure but the decisions needed to seem as if led by their rel. That meant she needed to be near Ad Scy to coordinate the fellow Dyte and both caught the attention of the humans only for the true force led by her rel to rout them.


    They may have won that battle but their defeat was complete and utter. It ultimately had been meaningless. She calculated from the many leagues they were from the Arcos, the approaching army would not have arrived in time to contribute to the Arcos¡¯s downfall.


    The enemy fled and her kin pursued, leaving her there. Not that she minded, they thought her core to be destroyed but would eventually return for her body. It had been her plan, this much had been anticipated if not her utter destruction. Her rel normally did not accept ideas that involved casting aside her own forces for a simple advantage but the Arcos would be imperiled if they failed. If Ad Scy had been unavailable, she would have recommended herself to play the role of leader.


    She ¡°played dead¡± as a being familiar with such an idea might say. But now that it was all over, there was little point just as there had been little purpose in letting her enemy know she was still conscience so they might crush her head.


    The rest of her body laid nearby, numerous stab wounds in her torso came together to seemingly make a cavernous maw in her chest.


    No bones crept out of the mutilated mass as she certainly had no marrow to break or mend. What served as a framework for her body were structures of flesh more tightly packed and rigid than the rest of her form. They would be difficult to identify by eye alone even if she was dissected. One would likely need to touch her pseudo-skeleton to be sure.


    In spite of that, her outer appearance mirrored her foes¡¯, that troubled her sometimes even if she did not confess to such things even to herself. She checked for herself, her skin''s texture and the points of articulation for her joints perfectly matched. A key difference was that she did not have a heartbeat.


    The rest of her body laid nearby, numerous stab wounds in her torso came together to seemingly make a cavernous maw in her chest. Her tunic was dirtied with ichor and mud. Her body still wore what most of her kind that resembled their enemy did, armor meant little to them so they dressed like civilians might usually like a full length tunic called a peplos.


    As was the norm among humans, they dismembered their enemies then stabbed into the chest repeatedly until their foe stopped moving. To her kind, a heart and brain were one and the same, a single vital organ. Until their core was damaged they continued to persist.


    Even if their cores were destroyed, it was not as though her kind could die so easily. As long as a piece of them was recovered and returned to the origin, they could be restored though stripped of memories and experience if heavily damaged.


    To avoid such resurrections the humans might have disposed of her body entirely if they had the time. Her kind were slow to burn, like a healthy tree trunk but fire was a popular answer or burial and entombment to hide the remains. They also sometimes forcefed her kind¡¯s flesh to beasts. The more extreme humans devoured her kind themselves but freshly slain spawn were poisonous and needed to be stored away from the sun to be edible and there were enough uniquely toxic samples of her kind to warrant hesitation even with such measures.


    Fire remained the most common choice. Humans invented alchemical fire that could reliably burn them. The wretched substance stuck to the surface of what it immolated, usually burning until there was little or nothing left.


    She cried until tears ceased to come. Then she sobbed dryly.


    After many hours, she finally ceased to mourn. She was the first to stop. The others might continue for what might be once be considered days if not given direction or even months if left alone in their misery.


    The pain remained though, pulsating as if every moment reopened the mental wound. However, she turned the suffering into something cold as she contemplated over her familiarity with it.


    It threatened to throw her every thought into disorder. It took almost all her concentration to even begin to assess the reality around her. It ate at her notion of time, convincing the deepest part of her that this time it might last forever, that the stars would die before it subsided. The knowledge that this all happened before served as her greatest salve, repeating to herself that it would end, that she would have purpose again.


    What greater agony was there for her than to endure when the very reason she existed was no more, stolen once again? It was worse than nothingness or emptiness, it was complete invalidation, to be without purpose.


    Somewhere nearby what sounded like multiple wolves let out their endless bowls of woe. A crow came to pick at her eye. In that moment, she welcomed the distraction. It must have thought she was a human. The wound that used to be her neck had ceased to hurt so the fresh sensation of the creature¡¯s beak gave her something to focus away from her failure.


    It squawked in surprise as it tasted her flesh. It flew away, leaving her with both eyes where they belonged. Likely scared away by the familiar flavor.


    Eventually came what looked like a deer with a, at the time, camouflage pattern, blending with its surroundings. It possessed four eyes and two pairs of antlers but lacked a discernible mouth.


    ¡°Ad Eu,¡± she addressed.


    Ad Eu had been accompanying their rel. It normally served as messenger and scout.


    Its hues shifted in acknowledgment. Ad Eu could not speak, it communicated by relaying messages through color patterns. The dyte could spell out words on its hide for those that were unaware of its code. It explained how it thought her to be lost from the state of her body. It then declared the rel¡¯s orders were that all capable spawn were to retrieve pieces of their lost comrades. Once gathered, they were to go to the Arcos¡¯s side and make their way to the origin to be restored.


    The thought to suggest Ad Eu to use its antlers to roll her head back into place with the stump of her neck cane to mind. But it would be efficient for Ad Eu to use that time to recoordinate those that were not lost and have another perform the task of putting her back together.


    ¡°Ad Scy was with me, she should be intact.¡± The howls from earlier continued, testifying to the dyte¡¯s continued activity.


    Ad Scy was an unique spawn with self-healing. True regeneration such as regrowing completely destroyed limbs was a particularly rare ability. Anything removed can be reattached without aid but the utter destruction or loss of mass could not be recovered from by most. The severely wounded were expected to return to the origin or Arcos. Such instances allowed the opportunity to commune with their progenitor. To not have to return to origin suggested a lack of connection with the one that birthed them. Stranger was that Ad Scy also possessed multiple cores.


    Ad Scy had seven cores. When severely damaged, one of those remaining cores melted into her body to restore her.


    Ad Eu, Ad Scy, and the disembodied one were the same place in the hierarchy, answering directly to their rels. Their rel possessed a disturbing habit of giving her subordinates names.


    She had been fortunate enough not to be granted a permanent name in spite of having her rel¡¯s attention. Her rel played with names, sometimes randomly referring to her by some mangled words but then claiming it did not suit the dyte.


    A name suggested individuality. To be one might lead to straying from being a piece of a greater purpose.


    Having a name should not have an impact on a spawn¡¯s mindset but her own rel¡¯s abnormal behavior was evidence enough possessing one had a potentially detrimental effect.


    Tiriz¡¯s hypothesis was that once one gained a sense a sense of ¡°I¡±, one might think less in terms of ¡°we.¡± Tiriz¡¯s model of conduct was the Arcos. The Arcos was the Arcos, a title, a role. The Arcos was a perfect being, anything it saw fit to be without was unnecessary.


    Ad Eu left but the next being to come for her was not just any spawn. ¡°It is good to see you are not lost to us,¡± a voice rang out joyfully. The rel, Grafin Herst, stepped into view.


    The rel appeared more like a member of the glorious dead than the living person she was modeled to look like. She was covered in broken arrows, spears, and numerous other wounds. The pattern of aiming for the center of the chest remained apparent. Most of the arrows were along the front of her body while several spears sprouted from her back. A gash ran between her mismatched eyes, from the top of her head to her chin, speaking of how her head might have been split in half. A mostly intact arrow stuck from her left hip.


    The rel¡¯s own tunic was short sleeved on her left side and sleeveless on her right to accommodate her arms and her slitted skirt ran short for lack of hindrance. Her right eye was noticeably larger than the other, yellow and catlike. Her left eye was a bluish gray like an owl in contrast to her short, chestnut brown hair.


    This was one of the rare times the dyte had to look up at her rel The difference in ages made their difference in height quite noteworthy but in the opposite way one might expect. One might expect the older one to be the taller but evolution dictated otherwise. The one separated from her body would have stood well over a head taller than her ancient superior.


    Grafin Herst¡¯s left arm was covered in brass chitan that concealed almost tarlike flesh that could extend or contract. It ordinarily ended with scissor-like pincers those had been broken off, leaving a pair of jagged knobs.


    This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.Grafin Herst¡¯s other arm was too large for her own body, belonging more to a massive ogre than one of her slight frame, its fingers touched the ground if she let it rest. Its was thick and swollen with muscular fibers seemingly ready to burst from under skin like blackened leather, it¡¯s fingers ending in straight claws as if the digits had been sharpened into spikes. Several broken arrows and a spear shaft nestled in her forearm without any sign of encumbering it.


    In olden days, the bow had been the pinnacle of human ingenuity. When fighting each other, all they cared about was killing their opponent from as far away as possible. There was little need for defense if one¡¯s foes were no more.


    But arrows had little chance to hinder her kind. They still found use if only to reduce the spawns¡¯ numbers even a little before the inevitable melee. A random arrow among many in a volley might still pierce their core or stab out an eye but otherwise the projectiles caused little harm.


    Her kind would not be undone by the pulling of a string. To repel them required warfare in its most primal form. Close quarters combat was a slow, cruel, and gruesome affair. Their enemies had to witness the light leave their foes¡¯ eyes to be sure they did not see that spawn rise to resume the fight. By the end of a long engagement, the battle should be a land of fire and blood.


    ¡°Our rel,¡± the dyte acknowledged dutifully.


    The rel reached out with her enormous hand. ¡°So, you are like me,¡± she observed with a smile as she grabbed a handful her subordinate¡¯s hair and lifted the dyte so they were facing eye-to-eye. ¡±You have your core in a strange place as well.¡±


    Grafin Herst laughed weakly to nothing. There was little about her rel that Tiriz wished to understand but she had heard Grafin Herst laugh many times. Laughing was an odd thing, an expression unique to the princesses and the unorthodox. The fact the Arcos had never been heard laughing cemented in the thought in dyte¡¯s mind that it was a vulgar act.


    Her rel¡¯s regular hearty laugh was filled with bravado. This time, her rel had to laugh. If she did not laugh, she would cry.


    The one without a body gritted her teeth as she grasped onto the aberrant thoughts she normally discarded. The irritation her rel''s mannerisms inspired within her was better than the ceaseless sense of loss.


    ¡°How may we serve you, our rel?¡± the dyte asked, eager for purpose.


    ¡°You have done enough, my dyte. We are to return to the Arcos once everyone has been collected.¡±


    Her rel¡¯s left arm stretched and the handless wrist dug under the dyte¡¯s body before pushing its upper half up so it was sitting in an upright position. Her rel then planted the head back in place.


    It took several moments for her awareness to extend across her body. Her neck tingled as it reconnected with her body and the sting of closing wounds reached her core. She noticed how her vision was tilted slightly to the side. She pressed her wrist against the side of her head and pushed it so it sat evenly between her shoulders.


    Besides the veritable hole in her chest that ached with activity as it tried to close, her body felt numb and proved difficult to move. When she was just a head, she had little reason to notice but she lost quite a volume of ichor from the slashes and stab wounds.


    ¡°Everything well?¡± her rel asked.


    The dyte moved her arms slowly, not by choice but because they could not move any swifter. Her limbs were still connected to her torso but her right hand consisted only of her unharmed thumb and four jointless stumps. She tried to block the strike that took her head and lost her fingers for her effort.


    ¡°We appear to be of suboptimal condition,¡± she assessed. ¡°We recommend having our head removed and carried back rather than risk slowing our return to the Arcos with our pace.¡±


    What she had to serve as muscles and veins were combined together like the structure of a flower that pulled and circulated water from the roots without the need of something temperamental as a heart. However, if one stabbed a tree deeply, it poured sap.


    Her rel frowned in consideration. ¡°You are not the only one that is injured.¡± The leader stepped around so the two were facing each other. ¡°If you prove to be the slowest one then I will consider your suggestion further. However, we could have someone carry you.¡±


    ¡°Understood, however, if we are to be carried,¡± she reasoned. ¡°We would be less of a burden if only my core was brought.¡±


    ¡°I will decide that when I must,¡± her rel declared, closing the topic.


    ¡°Understood.¡±


    The dyte felt her heir unevenly brushing against her neck and pulled it back to examine it. Part of her hair had been shorn off as her head was hewed from its body, leaving her hair lopsided.


    Grafin Herst pointed at the hair. ¡°I can fix that for you.¡±


    It meant nothing to the dyte but she remained seated as the rel stepped behind her. From the corner of her eye, she could see her rel look at her broken pincers as if just remembering they were gone.


    The rel took a short sword from the ground and gripped the hilt between her oversized fingers. The light of the sun filtered through the glass blade.


    Their world was plentiful with iron but all things wrought from it or metal akin to iron readily bent to the authority of a princess and equally so to the Arcos. What good would weapons be if the one they wanted above all others to bring low could be harmed by such weapons?


    "It is still day," Tiriz noted as her gaze drifted skyward.


    "They fought the Arcos beneath the sun¡­" Grafin Herst concluded with her.


    "They must have used some trick," Tiriz decided.


    "Or they might not have."


    It would be a long time before night fell. The humans knew this Purge was ill timed for them. That would explain their odd behavior. This would have been the second time in history where they captured a rel alive.


    Rather than hunt the Acros, they expended many resources to reach the now captured rel. No rescue attempts were made. The dyte expected her own rel to be prepared to execute some maneuver to save the captured one but her rel, with apparent, disturbingly humanlike reluctance, chose not to. Then, humans sent an army out to aid the warriors that reached the Arcos.


    ¡°If you must, you can use our hand,¡± volunteered Tiriz. Her rel had yet to begin cutting her hair.


    Tiriz reached back and pressed the sword against her left wrist. In one clean motion she severed her hand.


    The rel dropped the short sword and grabbed onto the useless knobs that remained on her left appendage. ¡°Thank you, Tiriz.¡± With a crunch, she tore the broken claws off along with a part of her wrist.


    ¡°Tiriz?¡± the dyte inquired.


    ¡°That is your name now,¡± the rel declared before kneeling. ¡°I just decided. Your name is Tiriz. Tiriz Eben.¡± She attached the hand onto herself.


    ¡°What does it mean?¡± Tiriz asked.


    Grafin Herst flexed her new fingers. She must have had more ichor to spare as the extremities bent for her better than they did for Tiriz. ¡°It does not mean anything, I just think it sounds nice. Do you like it?¡±


    Tiriz tightened her lips to keep her mouth shut. To tell the truth was to show ingratitude, to lie was to be disobedient.


    The name seemed to both validate and degrade her. She had been placed into the role called ¡°Tiriz Eben¡± but it seperated her from all others.


    Hopefully, her rel would soon find that name to be as ill suited as previous attempts. Normally, her rel settled for her first choice but seemed particularly enamored with something proper for the one now called Tiriz.


    But it was too late, she already knew what it meant to be set apart. Tiriz remembered when her every thought was plural, when she only ever referred to her rel even in her innermost thoughts as ¡°our rel.¡± She had never once called her rel ¡°Grafin Herst.¡± The first time Tiriz felt singularity was when she doubted her rel.


    With a hand capable of holding such a weapon, Grafin Herst found little difficulty in wielding the short sword she discarded. Soon enough, Tiriz¡¯s hair was brought to an equal length. Though it was longer, Tiriz recognized the style to be similar to her rel¡¯s.


    ¡°You can have this back now,¡± the rel offered the hand.


    ¡°We recommend that you keep it until it is no longer required,¡± Tiriz replied. ¡°We do not need it but you are a rel.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, Tiriz.¡±


    Tiriz blinked as her rel used such a human expression twice in such short time. There was no reason to thank a subordinate. If her rel told her to stab out her own core, she would do so, immediately.


    The rel left her subordinate to collect her lost pieces. She had to pick up her first two fingers with her mouth. She located all her pieces but her ring finger. It could have been carried away by some carrion bird that mistook it for a human¡¯s.


    With that matter resolved, she began eating. Spawn did not need to eat, they did not even have stomachs. However, they could still eat if only to derive sustenance during the long nights. Feeding also helped speed recovery,


    Her jaws were ill suited to crushing bones so she needed to pick through the enemy¡¯s armor and reach the softer tissues, namely organs.


    For armor, the enemy wore a type of plaster, flexible yet hard as stone. Pottery was a skill seemingly inherent within humanity, granting them insight into the matter of shaping such substances. Perhaps it was written in that simple alchemical puzzle that was their essence.


    Among the humans¡¯ belongings were clumps of wax and cloaks. So, they truly were resolved to fight the Arcos. Some of the bodies even showed damage to their eardrums, signs that they might have shoved the needles in themselves.


    Tiriz ripped out a man¡¯s liver and brought it to her mouth. She took a bite and the metallic flavor of blood tickled her tongue, making her wonder why she possessed something as unnecessary as a sense of taste. A vacuole formed in the back of her throat and enwrapped the nourishment. It travelled down to the center of her being where it began to constrict and dissolve what was within.


    In a previous cycle, the warriors that sought to defeat the Arcos brought a physician with them to treat their injuries. In a feud with a certain princess, the healer was infected by her. The physician''s companions failed to kill their comrade before the transformation was complete.


    That spawn granted insight to the human body or what the humans thought was insight. Apparently, they did not understand their own physiology. They attributed emotions to humors generated by the body, the liver being one of those organs. Tiriz might have feared being influenced by those humors if she did not know that to be false.


    She was not alone in feeding. Her injured kin ate well. They did not touch the horses that were used to pull the chariots though, there was plenty of human flesh to spare.


    They had been born to fight humans, nothing else. The Arcos required nothing else. It, like them, did not need food or shelter, only an army. There was an instinctual drive within them, to fight humans. They would leave the birds in the sky and the beasts in the fields at peace but humans were their enemies. There was no malice, just purpose. That was what she believed.

 Part 2

    Tiriz garbed herself in a dirtied signal banner left behind by their foe. She wrapped it over her shoulders and let it fall over her chest and back to conceal her closing wounds rather than waste the time to clean her tunic.


    It soon became clear Tiriz was not the slowest in their number even before the journey began. There were those that were missing legs or other parts that proved influential in maintaining a swift speed.


    It helped that Ad Scy shared her ichor with Tiriz. Ad Scy appeared as as a fusion of a human and a pack of wolves. The light in the eyes of four of her six spare lupine heads went out. An adequate understanding would be the fellow dyte ¡°died¡± multiple times during the last battle.


    The ichor of all spawn was universally compatible. The same could be said of their pieces. One could graft a part onto another without fear of rejection. But such practices were almost unheard of outside of emergencies as a spawn would naturally prefer to be restored to their original state. Also, just because one could perform a graft without rejection did not mean it was so simple to find such an opportunity, not when spawn could be of any size or shape. It would do one little good to add wings that were too small or replace a hand with a hoof.


    If Tiriz made the final decision, she would have had the cores of the severely injured ripped out for quicker transport to restore them later then distribute their ichor to those that might need it more.


    Her rel chose otherwise. Those that could not keep pace with the others were set in route as couriers to the origin. Ad Scy and several healthier ones stayed with them, as losing them would be the same as losing forever the comrades whose pieces they were carrying.


    The tireless march went in a gradual but steadily pace. They did not need to sleep with the distant yet unsetting sun to nurture them. They covered the distance without pause and the leagues swiftly closed.


    Humans may have been weak and short lived but they had generations to study the cosmic bodies surrounding them and reach a conclusion that was close to the truth. Their world was an island, one of many in a ring of similar islands. They once were under the impression that the sun revolves around them but the nature of nightfall proved such an assessment to be inaccurate.


    If their world was one island in a chain of such things, it was somewhere near the front of the ring but not quite. Such an explanation did little to fully convey the scale and number. The even the shortest of distances between such bodies still failed to be fully comprehended.


    But what was important was that their island was not the frontmost facing their sun. There were others ahead of them, some larger some smaller but going at a similar enough speed that collisions were observed.


    What should be appreciated is that the closer one was to the innermost part of a band, the less distance needed to be traveled to complete a loop. Humans saw such principles in their chariot races. Even if traveling at the same speed, those in front of their world passed them from time to time.


    The closer another island was, the more sunlight it blocked and worse the slower it was to pass by. One way to estimate the length of a night was observing how complete the darkness was.


    There were rumors of humans trying to find a way to sail away on the the ocean of emptiness.  Not that they could survive in any barren realm they happened upon. Their island was the only one which the Seed saw fit to populate. Though Tiriz knew there were spawn that were cast into the void to survey the other islands to be sure. But with such distances to be crossed, their voyages would be expected to last ages if they returned at all.


    Their island was unique, not only in that it could bear life by the blessings of the Seed but it also gained a companion. In the Age of Princesses, the princesses¡¯s combined efforts placed a living moon in the sky, the largest spawn known to exist. It was the size of a small continent, grand but not enough to block the sun, except the occasional eclipse. It existed to watch and come the rare occasions deemed fit, it could pour down the light it had collected during a long night.


    Before they reached the Arcos, they encountered their enemy once again or what remained of them. The camp was between them and their destination and Tiriz¡¯s rel saw fit to investigate.


    The direction they had been traveling led to a swift unspoken conclusion from all those gathered. These were the ones that bested the Arcos.What they came cross should have been impossible. A troubling instruction that the Arcos bestowed upon all spawn was to not kill the ones that bested her. That order was usually interpreted as letting the humans return home as long as they did not try to steal the Arcos¡¯s body.


    The investigation group comprised of Tiriz, her rel, and several other of the more intelligent members and proficient trackers of her kind. The rel should have continued the march and left the party to their survey. Though Grafin Herst¡¯s right eye was quite keen and might detect details others could not.


    The greatest argument Tiriz could imagine for bringing their progress to a halt was if the enemy might possibly pursue them. But such a possibility was highly unlikely, as all enemies present were already deceased.


    Around the lingering embers of a cooking fire, four tents still stood undisturbed. These were not army tents that could hold eight or ten people with ease but the type that those accustomed to venturing alone used. Two or three might fit at most.


    Scattered in various locations were five human bodies. Some were wounded but those injuries were not fresh and certainly not the cause of their demise. Two were around the half full, clay cooking pot. One was found in their tent, one at the fringe of parameter were they likely fell from their stead, and one laid near the seven remaining horses. No signs of spilt ichor except some that had been long dried on their weapons and armor. There was no signs of battle except what appeared to be carelessly split food and trivial belongings. The horses were burdened with the usual human trappings remained in place.


    They were still dressed from their battle with the Arcos, with full tunics under their armor with the hoods now drawn back. The humans discovered a chemical concoction to treat their fabric in order to protect themselves from a princess''s blue light. The blue light was not truly light, distorting mirrors and going through objects.


    It appeared there was at least one survivor that left. A faint trail heading further away from the Arcos suggested someone did not stay.


    Tiriz used her left stump to execute simple movements like rolling over the bodies while her right hand with its three recovered fingers performed the more delicate tasks.


    What soon became clear was that they all bore the mark. The mark appeared as six imperfect red triangles, each pointing towards the same center. Their sides curved inwards to leave six whitened ovals between them where the skin blistered. Three of the ovals were always shorter and narrower than the others and divided from each other by the longer petals. These all formed together to give the clear outline of a flower.


    Those that fought her kind developed a natural resistance to the poison overtime the way one might become immune to a disease from contracting it. The mark might have been an indicator that they developed that resistance if it was that simple though. There was more to the disposition of her kind¡¯s toxic nature than a sickness. It had a will.


    Those marked for the Arcos had little choice but to pursue her if they ever wished to know peace. There was no escaping the mark. Removing the place or limb it formed upon made it reform somewhere else, often the forehead, as if to reinforce the responsibility to those that attempted to ignore it.


    They were often not exiles but they were regularly unburdened by the borders of nations, going wherever the Arcos was. This phenomenon was commonplace enough to be acknowledged by most, allowing such warriors to pass freely without concern for the nation of origin or allegiances.


    Those with it gained some resistance to the abilities of the Arcos. What might have been immediately fatal like her poisons or azure, false light simply proved that they needed further application to be adequately lethal. The mark also allowed the bearer to understand the language of the spawn. The understanding was mutual. By the time the humans reached the Arcos, both parties likely shared a common tongue.This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    Not that the ability to communicate mattered. More often than not, the humans simply attacked, speaking with actions rather than words while other times they might waste their breath in some speech that only helped to reveal how blind they really were.


    A similar or identical effect could be accomplished if a human drank the freely given ichor of a princess. With that in mind, the princesses seemed to have the unique privilege of choosing whether or not to grant a mark upon defeat.


    The title of ¡°princesses¡± was granted by humans and it had been accepted. They were the ones that led before the Arcos¡¯s birth. Their uncontested authority was transferred to who would become the rels after the Arcos graced the world with her arrival.


    The princesses were unique in many ways. Most noteworthy was that they did not need to be recovered when they were lost. They appeared to share memories, a lost princess was reborn without the need of the old body with the experiences up to the last time they interacted with another active princess or the Arcos. Tiriz theorized that would lead to strange memory gaps, likely not remembering their multiple final moments or what led to them.


    The body in the tent caught Tiriz¡¯s attention. It had both sides of his head bandaged over his ears. Perhaps, he had been caught in the fringes of the Arcos¡¯s bone shattering shrieks or found he did not have the will to resist the influence of her voice. Tiriz would have to examine to be sure what it was but it most likely had been the latter as Tiriz recognized by instinct some inhumanity within him.


    Humans found a way to gain the heightened capabilities of her kind but remain human. To have her kind¡¯s power used in such a way was abominable. It was even worse because there were only two sources humans ever could hope to use to gain such power, the ichor of a particular princess or the Arcos herself.


    The Arcos¡¯s ichor could turn humans into pure spawn. The results did not have to resemble their impure origin. Those already with the mark did not transform but were granted longevity if the ichor was from the Arcos.


    Rebirth started at the heart as it transformed into a core. Once the core was complete, the ones changing were free from the fear of death like all spawn.


    Their consciencness was then transferred to the core as the brain melted into uniform flesh. Their memories survived but their mind became that of a spawn¡¯s.


    The unclean ones the humans made lacked cores and most traits that defined a spawn. They were simply superior samples of humanity, invested with stolen power.


    This made Tiriz need to investigate further, to see how involved such a creature was in the Arcos¡¯s downfall. He possessed a reflective crystalline shield, it had been scorched. On the back of it were tattered pieces of animal hide with burnt edges. Now that she considered it, the unclean one still smelled of burnt fur.


    Armor of bone, leather, or ivory turned to flowers at the Arcos¡¯s touch. Death surrendered to life. A battlefield she walked through was a strange thing as corpses decayed before one¡¯s eyes to renew the soil, leaving only the sufficiently inorganic or still living behind. Even their cloth of flax and wool was undone if they were not careful.


    That ability was one the Arcos rarely displayed to her foes as she normally left the ones that reached her intact. It was not meant for combat, it seemed.


    Yet, it could still be employed for such purposes. So, why did the humans trouble themselves to cover the shield with a substance that would prove futile at their enemy¡¯s touch?


    The animal hide had been one piece stretched over the front of the shield but was burned away, though not with conventional fire. The damage did not suggest wild flames but concentrated heat like the rays of the sun being focused through a lens. She connected the facts and rapidly envisioned numerous scenarios, eliminating those contradicted by what she found and adjusted according to the finer details.


    Her attention widened to all else. The embers of their cooking fire had not been extinguished with water but was left to starve. Parts of a meal that was still being cooked remained. Some morsels of food lied on the ground but nothing seemingly left half-eaten. She identified fruits, vegetables, but also a liberal use of seasoned meat and olive oil, clearly in celebration,


    The fact each one one possessed at least one weapon shaped from rainbow glass barely registered in her mind. All those that aspired to face the Arcos usually collected such tools. What was important to her was that there was a set of such weapons collected separately in a bundle of cloth.


    The collected weapons numbered at nine but some seemed to be paired. By Tiriz¡¯s estimation, their party once numbered thirteen, a lucky number the humans seemed to prefer, seven died beforehand leaving the six that camped.


    The imprints on the ground around some of the bodies suggested erratic movement, not rolling in pain. At least a few experienced seizures. The one that survived the longest based on the remaining warmth of the body had vomit on their lips and chin.


    The cause of death, oxygen deprivation, though with no signs of strangulation or swelling of the throat. They simply stopped breathing.


    Her rel watched as Tiriz returned to crouch over the two bodies around the faded cooking fire. She somehow recognized the knowledge being pieced together in her dyte¡¯s mind. ¡°How did they die?¡± Grafin Herst asked.


    ¡°Poison,¡± Tiriz stated without hesitation.


    ¡°Poison?¡± Grafin Herst eyed the bodies for confirmation as if the reality of the situation might have somehow changed. She waved over the site with her monstrous right hand. ¡°They were marked. They should be accustomed to our toxins.¡±


    ¡°Our toxins,¡± Tiriz agreed as she stared at the seasoned meat. ¡°But not plant toxins.¡±


    ¡°What plant?¡±


    ¡°Hemlock.¡±


    Grafin Herst pressed the knuckles of what used to be Tiriz¡¯s left hand against her chin in thought. ¡°They use that to execute their prisoners, do they not?¡±


    Tiriz went quiet to memorize the fact. Her rel knew human customs better than her. ¡°I am uncertain,¡± she quietly professed. Tiriz noted that she needed to study human customs more. If they had traditions for execution, there might be weaknesses their culture might unveil.


    The rel got beside Tiriz and crouched in mimicry of her dyte. Her eyes followed Tiriz¡¯s gaze to the ground. The palm of her disportionately large arm rested on the ground. ¡°How did they ingest it?¡± she asked, already seeing the answer for herself but perhaps wanting to hear confirmation.


    Tiriz picked up a morsel of meat from the ground and examined the seasoning. ¡°Willingly,¡± she answered. On it were several spices, but what was important was the minced green herbs. She licked it. Though two specks of the herbs appeared the same, they tasted different. Though she knew not what hemlock and parsley tasted like, she knew what they looked like. ¡°There is hemlock mixed in among their parsley.¡±


    The symptoms of hemlock were not immediate. Everyone would have had an opportunity to have a taste before the first signs of poisoning became apparent. Though perhaps the one that escaped did not eat the poisoned meal or ate later than the others.


    ¡°How unfortunate,¡± her rel sighed in a disturbing human expression.


    Tiriz gritted her teeth at what she tried to convince herself was not sympathy she sensed from her rel. yes, it was unfortunate that the Arcos¡¯s instruction that those that bested her be spared was somehow circumvented. That would mean one of their kind disobeyed a direct order but that would be impossible.


    Events aligned and the final product was this encounter. It was actually the ideal conclusion for the tragedy those lying at their feet begot. They would not share their experiences and have their methods passed to the next generation of those that hunted the Arcos. There may have been one survivor or maybe more if their company split before reaching this place but there was nothing they could do to that individual without going against their Arcos¡¯s will. One witness could provide adequate testimony but each voice lost would lead to less difficulty for the Arcos in the future.


    Grafin Herst stood and examined the site. ¡°Now, where are those coins?¡± The enemy often stored a pair of coins in a slot in their weapons.


    Tiriz was born to think. Sometimes she needed to ask questions even if she knew the answer. She had to be certain. ¡°May we ask why?¡±


    ¡°To pay their toll to the other side,¡± her rel replied as if the answer was obvious. Which, unfortunately, it had been.


    "These are the ones that defeated the Arcos," Tiriz made sure to remind her rel.


    "Yes, what does it mean for our Arcos if those that defeated her are left like this?"


    Tiriz could not answer. There was too many things to say. They could not be summarized in any fashion the dyte recognized as sensible.


    ¡°We do not have to fight at the moment,¡± Grafin Herst replied vexingly to the silence as if it was opposition. ¡°Place their coins in their hands and bury them before the carrion birds can pick their bones.¡±


    Her rel departed, certain that her instructions would be fulfilled. Tiriz complied and extracted the coins while the other spawn dug shallow graves. The nine weapons that had been collected together already had their coins emptied from them.


    Coins used to be wrought from electrum, ¡°white gold¡± as the humans called it, but carrying tokens the Arcos could turn to deadly weapons proved to hasten a warrior¡¯s journey to the destination the coins were meant to be spent.


    Gold was not akin to iron and was resistant to the Arcos¡¯s pull. At least, at first but that meant little when Arcos could also call down lightning. Once the area around her was suffused with such energy, all metal seemingly obeyed her will.


    Now coins were blown from glass or carved from sapphire, emeralds, and garnets.


    In all ways, humanity had adapted to the Arcos. Their weapons, their society, their currency, was all shaped by her very existence. The Arcos had countless abilities but the ones the enemy were most familiar with were the ones welded by the sixteen princesses. The princesses led the spawn before the Arcos emerged so the generations before had the opportunity to learn the limits of those abilities. It was easier for them to understand what she might not be immediately capable of than to account for everything she most certainly was.


    The fact that they understood her at all allowed them to be brave. The generations when the Arcos was a complete mystery to them were gone. They still feared her but not to the extent they should have. They should not even have thought to approach her.


    Tiriz found herself squeezing the coins as hard as she could. If she had the strength to crush them, she would have. But she did not and if she did, she never would have made the gesture. She could never disobey her rel.


    The coins peaked through the gap where her missing ring finger should have been. It made no difference whether the coins were in their possession. What were a pair of gems at a grave site when the ichor of the one that granted them life was fresh on their hands?


    Even if there was an otherworldly shelter, those that brought the Arcos low did not deserve peace. But her rel ordered her and her rel had been chosen by the Arcos. So, she had to obey, no matter how unreasonable it seemed.

 Part 3

    When they reached the location of the final battlefield, it seemed more a site of numerous natural and unnatural disasters than a battlefield. There were no bodies, only a path of crushed flowers leading away from it. It was not a clash of armies but, from what Tiriz counted, thirteen humans against a deity. Though one would think an army was involved, countless footprints interlaced the scene.


    Along the site were spatters of blood and fragments of white ¡°thorns¡±. What grass that was not scorched away or blanketed in frost was dead, touched by the Arcos¡¯s breath yet among the decay were flowers where her feet touched the ground and revived the soil. At one side was what could only be identified as a colossal handprint.


    Most would have fled at the sight of a display of only one such power. But such abilities were not new to the warriors that pursued the Arcos. At least one would have faced one of the sixteen princesses. Though the princesses were only a prelude, notes to a song only the Arcos could weave into harmony.


    Craters dotted the landscape as well while melted stone formed a straight, unerring path where a surge of destruction was directed.


    An ability unique to the Arcos was the power to control light. No other spawn had such an ability. As creatures that normally derived their power from the sun, such energy was their very lifeforce. To use it as a shield or weapon would be like a human firing arrows shaped from their own blood. Yet, the Arcos had no difficulty implementing it.


    Few would benefit to ask what the Arcos was capable of. Even if she possessed only the sixteen powers of the princesses and her authority over light, those powers interacted and combined into near limitless possibilities. It would be better to ask what her immediate limits might be. Her power surpassed the collective abilities of all spawn. She was omnipotent.


    Yet she still fell.


    The Arcos had a number of defensive abilities that together should have made her invulnerable How then could she be defeated? There were several possible explanations. The simplest would be she let herself be defeated.


    Another was both easier and more difficult to believe. That she was too perfect. She might have been so powerful that the small details appeared trivial and immortality allowed her to plan so far into the future that she had little reason to consider the immediate.


    Humans were so fragile and focused on the short term. All they could afford to concern themselves with was defeating her in the present moment. They possessed a sense of urgency that few spawn experienced.


    Even though Tiriz could not explain the numerous defeats of a living deity, she did not need to be told what happened at this battle. She already discovered what happened from the state of the equipment she found in the humans¡¯ camp. Midbattle, they provoked the Arcos to unleash a ray of concentrated light. It had been daytime so the Arcos had no need to conserve energy and released something powerful enough to cut immediately through any opposition. Even her regular use of such beams had unquestionable penetrating power, easily traveling through flesh in an instant, but this would have been her using it to a greater extreme.


    But the warriors wished for that. They had a shield covered in hide, probably kept it beyond the Arcos¡¯s reach until that moment to not have the fur be covered in newborn life. When the beam pierced the hide, it was reflected back at the Arcos.


    Of course, that would not have been enough. She could endure her own attacks but that would have proven to be the key moment that opened the Arcos to a continuous assault. Eventually, she succumbed.


    Which direction their charge had been taken was all too apparent. In previous times, there might have been a fresh trail of flowers through the battlefield if the Princess of the Barrows remained but this time that trail was trampled beneath a flood of footsteps and paw prints. Oddly, the direction the footprints traveled along were not straight but curved and the path itself was unseemly wide. She could not be certain until she identified matching prints among the chaotic pattern but it seemed that her kind were leaving only to come back, there was no sign they departed from each other.


    They followed the path and soon enough witnessed the cause of it all. A swirling swarm of spawn slowly moved forward. It was like looking upon a landborn storm, crowned by a halo of flying creatures. That was not customary. Spawn without instruction would normally still be inactive and those led by their rels would be organized.


    Perhaps, that was what contributed to it all, a missing rel. Tiriz recognized some of those comprising the flood of bodies to be the subordinates of a captured rel. Humans had made strange decisions in this conflict. A rel that could speak into the cores of her subordinates from a distance like the Arcos had been captured earlier and threw their forces into disarray. The act was purposeful, that rel in particular had been targeted. It had not been the usual marked warriors but an army. The nations¡¯ militaries always played a role but they usually fought defensively. The army Tiriz¡¯s rel moved to intercept likely had been deployed to take advantage of a part of their forces being confused.


    Tiriz expected her own rel to begin rescue operations at the news of one of her own being captured. The dyte had no logical basis for that assumption but her rel often acted outside of logic. Grafin Herst went against Tiriz¡¯s first recommendations more often than she listened to them. Tiriz considered the possibility of offering the most efficient option second and observe whether or not her rel would be more likely to select the proper choice if it was not listed first. However, Grafin Herst made the correct decision that time and chose not to weaken their forces even further for the improbable chance that the missing rel might not be lost by the time they reached her.


    As they drew closer, they could see a procession in the center of it all, or rather Tiriz¡¯s rel could. Other rels were inside, escorting the Arcos home. As the distance closed, the more solid the swarm appeared to the eye, like a shifting wall, each spawn just a single brick.


    When they finally reached the edge of the storm, the swarm did not part for Grafin Herst, no matter what she said. They were not hostile but certainly did not stop. If everyone tried to force their way through, Tiriz envisioned a scenario where their group was swept away in the chaos if they slipped through the surface.


    But they had to, the Arcos was in there. Grafin Herst scratched her cheek with a claw and frowned deeply. She looked at it all contemplatively for a long moment.


    Then her lips flattened, not into a smile, but she was no longer frowning. She looked at those gathered behind her. ¡°Take everyone as far from the Arcos as you can, Ad Eu, until the next night. Then return home. Do not engage any humans but see if you can make as much noise and path as easily traceable they are.¡± She gestured over the chaos. Ad Eu¡¯s hide blinked colors in understanding.


    Tiriz took steps to follow but her rel singled her out. ¡°Except you, Tiriz,¡± the rel amended. The rel pointed at the dyte as if there could be any mistaking who the order was from, maybe to remind Tiriz that her rel was still addressing her by that name. ¡°You are coming with me.¡±


    Not even the faintest trace of hesitation whispered in Tiriz¡¯s core as she corrected her path to join her rel. Her instinct to return to the Arcos hummed softly, filling, however slightly, the emptiness that her liege¡¯s loss left within her.


    Apparently, her rel¡¯s combat experience applied to avoiding being trampled by their own forces. Grafin Herst grabbed onto Tiriz with her unsuitably large right hand, then waited for a particularly large sample of their kind to pass within reach. She then stretched her left limb and grabbed on with her newly acquired hand.


    They swung onto the creature¡¯s back and rode it until they saw the opportunity to leap onto another, making their way for the center. Then they saw their Arcos. Grafin Herst saw her before Tiriz could. Whatever tears her rel had left flowed anew, the tears streaking unevenly. The tears flowed freely from Grafin Herst¡¯s right side while the droplets welled around her yellow left eye. She closed her left eye so tight that a single bead of ichor formed along its edge.


    Finally, Tiriz saw the Arcos for herself. If the great one had been grievously wounded, the other rels must have collected her parts. Her pieces merged seamlessly together and her wounds closed perfectly so long as the sun smiled upon her, even in that dormant state. Any enemy blood that collected on her would have been fed to flowers. She was like a monument to the beauty of life.


    The Arcos could be whatever she wanted to be, but her form was always beautiful, to Tiriz, even if she always chose to appear mistakably human. She seemed to keep a consistent facial structure, her features regel and refined but this time period she appeared as the ancient statues of goddesses, neither muscular or entirely lean.


    Even in seeing her liege in such pristine condition, a gasp escaped Tiriz¡¯s lips. She witnessed confirmation that the worst had come to pass.


    The Arcos appeared to merely be sleeping. A sleep so deep that Sheffield to be roused by the mourning that filled every mountain and valley.


    The Arcos was all that mattered but as they finally reached the center of it all, a place of peace surrounded by endless crying, wails, and stampeding feet, Tiriz began to examine their surroundings. She turned her attention away from her liege if only to ensure her safety.


    The Arcos laid on the back of a rel, the second Rel to ever be chosen to be exact. It had the body of a lion, the wings of bat, the tail of a scorpion, and the horrible face of their enemy. Beneath the Arcos, its second mouth remained closed shut, its charge resting upon its sharp teeth without harm.


    There were only two rels present other than Grafin Herst. Several rels were missing. The first whose absence was noticed would be a rel like a horse but with wings and a horn on the center of its head. Tiriz would have expected to see it among those circling the air, patrolling to be certain they were not followed but led its forces to a distant land as did another. The other absent rel had more apparent reasons as to why it was not with them.


    The other present rel, the Hybrid, walked at the Arcos¡¯s side. Hybrid was akin to a completed version of Tiriz¡¯s own rel. It possessed a pair of limbs the same shape as Grafin Herst¡¯s right arm and a large upper body to match them. Its sharp and angular head resembled a mix of a wolf and a lizard with five eyes, two of which were the same yellow hue as one of Grafin Herst¡¯s. The eyes were arranged with one in the center of its forehead and a pair on the side of each head, one set above the other and closer to the back to see what was beside it.


    It possessed two mouths. One where one might expect a mouth with sharklike teeth to be and another that opened at the bottom of its ¡°chin¡± with an arrangement like a carnivorous mammal, complete with canines. Its lower body was slightly leaner than the rest of itself with sleek yet powerful legs, unified with the rest of its body in a mottled grey color. A pair of flexible fins, like vestigial wings, stuck from its shoulders, moving about to provide balance instead of a tail.


    In the back were multiple dytes and the rels¡¯ most powerful available combatants. At the head of the procession were three of the remaining princesses leading the way. There was a general pattern to the princesses, they were modeled after humans but each had one or more deviations from that form to make it clear they were indeed not human. Also, a strange consistency would be how their eyes or hair matched the flowers they were sometimes referred to by.


    Among them was one with snakes in the place of hair and silver eyes, another with the lower body of a horse with red hair and green eyes, and the one furthest back and closest to the Arcos was one with goat hooves and blood red eyes whose touch decayed any deceased material before it could trouble the Arcos.


    The princesses were the only spawn seemingly unaffected by the loss of the Arcos. Reborn without fail before her awakening and after her defeat. They led the way while the rels recovered.


    Grafin Herst took her place at the Arcos¡¯s side and the other two rels gave her the slightest acknowledgement as if she had always been there. Normally, she and the Hybrid would have had something to say to each other. This was the rare occasion the two rels greeted each other with silence.


    Thus the Arcos¡¯s journey home continued. They carried the Arcos as if she was made of glass.They did not stop at or circumvent any obstacle. Those ahead cleared the way, filling any pitfall and likely prepared to flatten hills.


    They stopped when they reached the ocean. There they were met with a rel vaguely shaped like a whale but was more akin to a living island, the third Rel ever selected. Its sad moans filled the air as it opened its enormous mouth.


    Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.The rel with a lion-like body flew into its maw to deposit the Arcos. Many of the crazed spawn spawn dived into the sea to follow the Arcos. If the Rel of the Seas departed, Tiriz was certain they would all leap into the waters and follow it into the depths.


    ¡°That is enough!¡± Grafin Herst decided, addressing no one yet everyone. ¡°Cease this at once!¡± Tiriz doubted that her rel was ever meant to shout. It was not anything childish but her voice¡¯s volume matched her stature. ¡°Do you not see?¡± Tiriz¡¯s rel continued. ¡°If you stay with her, they can follow! You are endangering her!¡±


    The Second Rel roared affirmation. The whale-like rel sang similar instructions even as cradled its compatriot and charge in its mouth. If volume was a factor to consider, the Third Rel eliminated that difficulty. Its song was a complex structure of deep moans and shrill cries punctuated with what some might think were chirps.


    It was too unique an occurrence to know what would be required to restore order to the horde. Not only was the Arcos gone but their rel was missing as well. Maybe the dytes could control them but the dytes needed to be roused.


    Underwater was one of the few places humans could not follow. The Arcos would be safest journey home with the Third Rel. The others stayed ashore to ensure no one followed the trail they blazed.


    But the swarm heeded no one. Grafin Herst groaned then looked to Tiriz. ¡°You memorized the identity of every active dyte, correct?¡±


    ¡°Correct,¡± Tiriz confirmed.


    ¡°Direct me to each one belonging to our missing rel you can find,¡± her rel ordered calmly yet firmly.


    A dyte was to be treated like a rel. A rel could not be everywhere and required units to serve in their place. Even the princesses acknowledged their place. Perhaps a dyte would prove sufficient to replace the missing rel.


    The missing rel appeared to select dytes based on stealth and mobility rather than a disposition towards being able to predict their superior¡¯s will such as a collection of chitinous legs with a single eye, seemingly able to slip between any crack, and an avian dyte. With a noteworthy exception, a human-like design similar to Tiriz with hair the color and texture of fresh leaves.


    The missing rel possessed the least dytes of all rels. The ability to relay all instructions directly meant there was little need for such subordinates. The avian dyte could be seen among others flying circles over the Third Rel. The crawling one with a single eye was nowhere to be seen and likely would remain undetected.


    That left the humanoid for Tiriz to prioritize. She described the ones they were looking for to her rel and scanned for the sight of green among those that have yet to dive into the waters.


    Her rel leapt into the storm of bodies and after a short while returned with the humanoid dyte. The dyte¡¯s appearance was as Tiriz recalled, similar in height to herself with stark green hair and amber eyes, garbed in leather dyed white with minerals. Except her eyes were unfocused. Grafin Herst held onto the dyte lest it rejoin the others, giving no sense that the dyte saw or heard them.


    A list of remembered facts placed itself in the forefront of Tiriz¡¯s mind. The dyte possessed similar physical parameters to Tiriz herself, subtly stronger and faster than a human of her weight and build. It was improbable to the point of near impossibility for a spawn to be weaker than a human, pound per pound, so such knowledge in most cases would be irrelevant. However, unlike Tiriz, this dyte possessed an ability that made her worth being granted the position of a dyte by the lost rel. She could communicate with plants.


    Although spawn shared traits with plants, there was no particular shared descent linking them. All life other than themselves strayed from the origin. If all mundane life formed a tree, the origin would be the soil it sprouted from. Plants happened to be closer to the roots while beasts dwelled in the furthest branches.


    ¡°Do you understand?¡± Tiriz¡¯s rel inquired to the unresponsive dyte. ¡°We must secure a safe path for the Arcos. Do you understand that you are attracting attention to her with your presence¡±


    Light slowly flickered back into the dyte¡¯s eyes and she regarded the rel. Grafin Herst let go and watched as the dyte stood still and comprehension took hold.


    Spawn were not selfish like humans, the correct application of logic should should help the madness fade. The moment they became aware of their actions endangering the Arcos, they should cease.


    There were firm instincts within spawn. They had to protect the Arcos and they had to obey the her instructions at all costs. Obeying took precedent or else there would be a flood of bodies always shielding her. The one instruction they could not obey was if she ordered them to harm her. The spawn would find themselves physically incapable of doing so. Endangering her might as well have been the same as harming her.


    The dyte¡¯s face twisted into an expression of sorrow only they could fathom. There it was. The purposelessness that set in once a spawn completed a task only to realize there was nothing else.


    Tears streamed down her cheeks. She bent forward as if the weight of the whole world rested on her shoulders. Her knees buckled and as her knees touched the ground, she joined the chorus that resounded across every corner of the world with a heartwrenching wail.


    That the Arcos was gone was the worst possible outcome. It would have been better if they fell in her place. A world without the Arcos was the closest they could ever experience to a hell.


    ¡°Tell me,¡± Grafin Herst drew her back into reality. ¡°Why are you all doing this?


    ¡°Our¡­¡± The dyte hesitated as if failing to acknowledge the fact somehow would made it less true. ¡°Our rel is lost.¡±


    Tiriz expected as much but her core core still shook with the news. There had been nine rels across history. Six remained. Grafin Herst was the only rel with a name, the other answered to titles. Each had been selected by the Arcos, to lose one felt to Tiriz as if a fundamental law of nature had been excised from existence.


    Grafin Herst frowned at the news. ¡°I understand but this is not how a spawn without a rel acts. What was your final order?¡±


    ¡°Her final order was to protect the Arcos,¡± the dyte


    Tiriz assessed that detail. It was a known phenomenon that a spawn with purpose could ignore the initial confusion of losing a commanding unit until the task was complete. But the Arcos was unique. There was no means to ignore it, simply endure it. Was it possible that the rel¡¯s final order provided the guidance necessary to endure the grief enough to still act? Was it because the order involved the Arcos?


    ¡°When was the order given?¡± Tiriz interjected.


    If Tiriz acted outside of her rel¡¯s will, Grafin Herst made no sign of disapproval. Instead the rel looked to the green haired spawn, anticipating an answer. The dyte listed a time shortly after Grafin Herst¡¯s force departed, perhaps in reaction to the same army, Tiriz and her rel intercepted.


    Grafin Herst then led the dyte to explain everything after that point, luring her back to present. The confused spawn recalled it all slowly like her memories were hidden in a fog.


    ¡°The warriors approached. They made camp to rest but the Arcos told us to not block their way. As the battle began,she told us to keep a distance of a league away from the humans. The Arcos fell¡­¡±


    ¡°And everything went dark until now?¡± Grafin Herst finished for her. The dyte replied with affirming silence. ¡°That I understand.¡± Every spawn know that despair so deep that it swallowed all else.


    So, that was what a spawn experienced if they lost a rel and the Arcos near simultaneously? The spawn were acting on instructions but with a lapse in judgement. Tiriz structured the commands in order of priority and time given. The Arcos¡¯s instructions did not appear to completely overwhelm the order to protect her. The order to stay away from those humans was once the battle began. So, the spawn should have been able to approach the warriors before that occurrence. She envisioned spawn still harassing the warriors.


    ¡°If we inconvenienced you and others, we did not mean to,¡± the missing rel¡¯s dyte declared.


    ¡°That we can overlook,¡± Grafin Herst stated. ¡°What matters is what happens now. We need you to make everyone scatter or if you can not bring them to their senses, lead them away from the Arcos so any remaining enemy forces might follow you instead.¡±


    The dyte then said something strange. ¡°Understood, that is what my rel would have instructed,¡±


    Tiriz wanted to ask her fellow dyte to repeat what she just said but she knew what she heard. Did the dyte just suggest singularity? It was one matter for those named by Grafin Herst to say such things but could it even be possible for a spawn under the constant guidance of a greater mind?


    Tiriz considered every variable and sorted them by probability. Was it the shock of losing the Arcos and a rel? Was it being parted from such an union and being forced to acknowledge one was alone? Tiriz would need to hear how the other dytes of the lost rel spoke, for confirmation.


    It could have been a result of her ability. Being the only one in her company that understood mundane plants could perhaps force her to have higher self awareness.


    The rel with the highest number of subordinates to address themselves as ¡°I¡± was undoubtedly Grafin Herst. The second would be the Third Rel but likely not due to any failing in structure but in that their own own rel could not enter land and had the highest number of dytes. Regardless, the number of such cases was growing and Tiriz found herself to be the only one she knew to be alarmed by such developments. She was not privy to the assessments of spawn outside her rel¡¯s influence, so perhaps the other rels thought more similarly to herself than her own rel.


    The performance of such spawn do not seem to be compromised compared to their counterparts that spoke properly. Oddly, Grafin Herst¡¯s forces seemed to have the highest rate of success working independently from their rel compared to those of other forces.


    But what if it was a symptom of some illness, a disease of ideas? There always had been the occasional felum, a spawn born unable or unwilling to coordinate with others. Felums that could speak used ¡°I¡±. What if this was how felums developed? Even if it was not, was it worth jeopardizing their forces with spawn that might act outside what was expected of them?


    The green haired dyte addressed the swarm and the spawn seemed to at least detect her instruction. That allowed Grafin Herst to turn her attention to the avian dyte circling above the Arcos. The rel shouted to the airborne creature.


    ¡°It does not appear to understand you,¡± Tiriz observed.


    ¡°I can see that.¡± Grafin Herst picked up a large stone and held it in her monstrous right hand. She did not look back as she spoke. ¡°Confirm this for me, Tiriz. Is the Princess of the Swamps still with us?¡±


    Tiriz remembered the princess with snakes for hair being part of the procession. ¡°She is still active.¡±


    The rel drew back her hand. The stone rolled to tips of her claws ¡°We will need her to volunteer her ichor.¡±


    Most of the princesses had a secondary ability, some even tertiary ones, be it limited transformation or extreme strength, endurance, and agility. Regeneration was the Princess of the Swamps¡¯ and was able to share that trait through her ichor. Though her ichor was particularly deadly to humans, a fate only feared more by her gaze and the ichor of the Princess of the Mountains.


    The rel arched her back and planted her feet firmly. Her body moved all in one motion as she took a single step forward as the stone flew out of her hand. For an instant, the slicing of air could be heard, the next the left wing of the avian dyte crumpled and broke.


    Tiriz blinked then blinked again as she watched the spawn fall from the sky, unsure if she could trust what she saw. Spawn could not normally be violent towards each other. But if the Arcos was involved, all actions were justified.


    ¡°Effective...¡± she observed as she calculated her own possible solutions.


    Her rel aimed well. She only damaged a wing to cripple its ability to fly. If she had crushed the head, the dyte might have flailed about blindly and deafly in its manic state.


    Tiriz would have recommended deploying a spawn capable of capturing it but with the resources they immediately had available, her rel selected one of the swiftest and surest decisions.


    Grafin Herst fished the dyte out of the water while Tiriz collected ichor from the princess with snakes for hair. She returned to her rel who was holding down the avian spawn. A quick application of the substance saw the dyte¡¯s wing grow anew.


    The thought sparing a drop for her missing hand came to mind. It would have been logical but unnecessary. The ichor was for the avian.


    The conversation with the avian dyte proceeded similarly as it did with the first dyte. Once it regained its senses and a few drops of the princess¡¯s ichor was delivered to it, it took flight to locate the lost rel¡¯s remaining dytes.


    To Tiriz¡¯s content and discontent, the dyte never referred to its rel as ¡°My rel.¡±

 Part 4

    Tiriz did not appreciate the dark. But it was into the dark her journeys so often brought her.


    Darkness and cold nurtured hunger. Hunger brought weakness and savagery to her kind. They craved the warm flesh and blood pumping through a human¡¯s heart and if denied that, they might even feast upon plants and animals. Tiriz discovered maintaining a fire was sufficient to at least prevent slumber, but as her rel correctly discerned, it was better to eat something than to burn it. Fire only proved more efficient for small groups.


    Regarding slumber, if one¡¯s hunger was not satiated, one must rest. Her kind entered a state of hibernation until roused by warmth or somehow forcefed or given fresh ichor. There existed spawn with abilities that made them resistant to the cold and capable of reviving others from slumber. Such an example would be a princess who dwelled in the deserts where the night¡¯s chill came quickly but her songs controlled the temperature around her.


    Fortunately, the air in the tunnels they traveled through was warm and humid, warm enough to sustain Tiriz and her kind even without the sun. However, it also stank of sulfur. A smell akin to rotten eggs clung to everyone but not a single organism voiced a complaint. No surprise to be found in that, they entered the place through a lava vent.


    The endless scratching of clawed feet, clopping of hooves, and other means of locomotion echoed against the rough stone. No one could mistake to falsely accredit human hands for the passage. The walls were scarred with clawmarks and corrosion from acidic excretions.


    A princess that had been content to burrow beneath until that time joined their procession. She lacked eyes and possessed massive clawed hands for digging along with almost purple hair like red clover. This one was the most timid of them all yet also the most powerful if one was to compare size to strength, able to carve through stone with ease.


    Stone gave way to dark volcanic soil once they journeyed beyond the base of a fiery mountain, rich in nutrients. If the sun went only a little deeper, it would have been ideal for farming. Instead, it existed as if to testify how not even stone could resist life itself.


    And indeed, life itself proved victorious. As they ventured deeper, rather than bedrock, they met a smooth wall of red flesh. The flesh wall opened to let them in like the chamber of a heart.


    The Seed moved but her kind''s homing instinct returned them to it without fail. Beneath the surface were countless tunnels carved out over the years that allowed the spawn to travel anywhere in the world, even the side the sun''s rays never reached.


    Through the network ran capillaries from the Seed, roots or tendrils for the spawn to enter and exit through. Often, as was this case, they rested near volcanic vents sustaining the Seed with heat alone.


    The slick crimson material that surrounded them pulsated gently in the dark. The fact Tiriz with her less than perfect eyes even knew what color it was due to her foreknowledge of the matter. It could light the way for them but they asked nothing of their progenitor, not after they failed to protect what was most important to all.


    The capillary could expand and contract to accommodate larger creatures or close the way for invaders. As it currently was, a whale could slide through and have room for several human sized spawn to slip by in the opposite direction without issue.


    New spawn joined them as they crossed paths with other veins. All headed in the same direction, homebound. They traveled many leagues and passed through multiple valves to reach their final entryway, a soft scarlet glow lit the way in the distance as they made a turn. That light swiftly grew greater in scale but slowly in intensity and lightened until a vision of radiating tint of peach and coral was all they could see.


    The wall of the Seed was solid, so vast that it appeared flat, its gentle curves too subtle to fully reveal it was only a glimpse of a perfect sphere. It glowed internally but nothing could be seen on the other side at the moment, like looking at the daylight sky through a stretched canvas.


    The wall rippled and opened an ovoid window for them. Through the aperture could be seen another world, one alight with warmth. Everything was bright, lit from all sides by bioluminescence. The many neon colors of life banished all shadows. Before them was a glowing reef serving as a cliff. Beyond that cliff was an ocean.


    While the exterior was smooth as an apple seed, the growths within were complicated and branched out like coral but had the elasticity of boneless flesh. It was the same material Tiriz¡¯s own body was composed of but granted a different form the way coal and diamonds were comprised of the same element.


    Though the sight of that ocean was concealed by the army of creatures gathered. The cliff branched out further to match their numbers so there was no fear of them overflowing and dropping into the mixture below.


    The liquid beyond was inky with tints of every color derived from a rainbow. It could not be seen through like water ripe with silt. It could be as shallow as a puddle or deeper than any sea, one could never discern.


    The ocean would have been vacated. Only those yet to be born remained within. None would join in the union while the Arcos remained as she was. Tiriz¡¯s company stepped through the gap. Once Tiriz made her way inside, she could see the outline of their progenitor in the distance.


    In the center of everything was a leafless ivory tree, the tides of liquid lapped at the base of its roots. The tree¡¯s branches stretched to the ceiling, a ceiling so high that it appeared to be a false coral sky. Too far to be seen but most certainly there would be human-sized fruits.


    The fruit was the closest thing any normal spawn knew as a childhood stage. Once a spawn started to develop within, the fruit dropped into the ocean where it shrank or grew. A spawn emerged once it was fully developed. Normally they gestated within the liquid but the princesses and the Arcos were said to have remained attached to the Seed until the moment they were born. This was their birthplace. An oasis in a lifeless cosmos or an island in an ocean of fire.


    Her rel once described how the Seed¡¯s form was a giant blossom rather than a full tree while the Arcos was being cultivated. The Seed changed its form as it decided.


    The tree glistened with a rainbow sheen and at rare moments flickered into a different color as her core recognized it to be some unknown color but her own eyes lacked the sophistication to convey it. Her consciousness painted it white rather than collapse her perceptions into black.


    Black was when many colors combined just as red and blue merged to purple but truly there was more to the world than black born from such unions. Hidden within what one might think was darkness was a myriad of shades and tints that remained mysterious to Tiriz. Even between the bands of the rainbow were colors yet unseen.


    Tiriz looked at the world around her. It bothered her that she saw the world through such a limited spectrum. It must have been even more beautiful to her more blessed kin¡¯s eyes. Her eyes were the same as a human¡¯s in receptibility. Her rel once had similar eyes but Grafin Herst¡¯s grafted eye could see colors Tiriz could not. Tiriz counted over a million shades and tints within her trivial vision but reality was painted with at least a hundred times more. She, like humans, only saw a single percentage of the world.


    More advanced spawn could easily see four times as much as a human. Camouflage meant little when prey did not even know what it was their hunters saw.


    A short princess with cloven hooves with black hair walked to the ledge and turned to address all gathered. ¡°Who is here to accompany the Arcos?¡± she asked, her blood red eyes scanning the crowd.


    ¡°I am,¡± Grafin Herst and the two other rels stated as one.


    ¡°Please step forward,¡± the princess requested.


    Grafin Herst, being the only rel burdened with such trappings, removed her garments, folded them, and placed them on the ground. The flesh where her arms met her torso formed thin rings where both sides appeared to merge. The rings were broken where either side trespassed into the other almost like interlinked fingers. A ridge of what appeared to be segmented bone at the base of her spine showed such signs as well.


    Tiriz¡¯s rel stepped forward to knell before the princess. The princess rested her palm on top of the rel¡¯s head and the air immediately over Grafin Herst¡¯s skin shimmered and glowed. Flowers bloomed in seemingly random locations where human blood and other detris might have been.


    A group of cyfts, spawn of simple thought and capability, came to uproot the newborn plants and wiped away any other substance that the princess¡¯s power might have left untouched with tendrils, hands, claws, and other appendages. Unguided cyfts were little more intelligent than animals. Fortunately, their enemy proved less wise than most animals. Even ants and bees could construct complex structures.


    Some cyfts were so liberated from thought that they might function for a short time after the destruction of a core. Such spawn were why beheadings were still a common choice among humans for dispatching spawn as they had for Tiriz herself. Losing the head would neutralize the mindless and render those with cores weakened enough to allow for humans to target their center of thought.


    The other two rels already completed the rite while Grafen Herst had put away her trappings. ¡°Is this all that remains?¡± the princess asked aloud, surveying the three leaders gathered.


    ¡°Wait,¡± the princess that lacked eyes declared as she raised a massive hand and tilted her head upwards.


    A distant neighing reached the ears of all and soon the shape of the rel called the Storm flew into Tiriz¡¯s vision. In appearance the Storm appeared to be a winged horse with a horn sprouting from the center of its head. Its capabilities were similar to one of the princesses, able to conjure lightning.


    But the Storm was not the only one approaching. Not even perceivable to Tiriz at first, something or rather someone was climbing upon the ceiling that served as their sky.


    The other soul to join them dropped down from above, landing on all fours with a violent crash. The impact sent shivers through the living ground. ByTiriz¡¯s estimate, the Devil as humans called the rel reached their destination before Grafen Herst¡¯s company and made her way across from the other side of the underground ocean.


    If the Storm bore a heavy resemblance to a common creature, the Devil¡¯s appearance ran contrary to that. Large and faintly humanoid in appearance, she usually carried herself with a hunch. Her body was covered in large spikes growing from an armored exoskeleton. Her tail reminded Tiriz of an enlarged human¡¯s ripped out spinal column, the appendage ending with a sharp venomless barb. Tiriz''s rel liked to call the Devil, F¨®sforos, but no one else adopted the use of that name as of yet.


    The Storm landed gently in comparison to its fellow rel and both were cleansed as those before them had been. They were cleansed of all filth and impurity through the sacred rite.


    Their ritual completed, all eyes focused on the surface of the underground ocean as it roiled and broke, mighty waves rippling out at the emergence of the whale-like rel. It let out a single long moan that echoed throughout followed by a click to address its fellows.


    The cloven hooved princess leapt from the cliffside onto the back of the living island below. She laid her hands upon it, though it had already begun to glow when her feet first touched it. For its size, little sprouted from it, the waters it passed through already having washed away most contaminants. The swarm of cyfts refrained from approaching any closer to the Arcos and the other rels were already cleansed of all so the responsibility fell to the princess herself who gently collected what flowers took root upon the living island¡¯s body.


    The rels on the cliff dived into the ocean where they either floated or swam as smoothly as they could, doing their utmost to not disturb the waves.


    The living island opened its maw. Cradled gently upon its massive tongue rested the Arcos, her arms crossed over her chest. The tongue lowered into the sea of life and her body slowly drifted out.


    Tiriz felt a strange sensation or lack of sensation as she witnessed the Arcos once more. The ominous calm that she somehow knew was just the prelude to tears she knew too well. The moments before a dam might break.


    Having already witnessed the horror of such a wondrous being laid low, Tiriz could focus now on the finer details of the Arcos¡¯s guise. For that time, the Arcos chose olive skin, an almost golden tanned complexion. A rather common appearance among the humans that called that world home. Only those hidden in the mountain shadows possessed a pale complexion beneath an unsettling sun, though some human type spawn such as Tiriz herself could turn pale from time underground.


    The other rels circled the body and each laid a hand, hoove, flipper, or claw upon her. Then they sank beneath the surface.


    If Tiriz¡¯s eyes ever strayed from the Arcos, it was to catch a final glimpse at Grafin Herst as the rel dived into the unseen depths. The rels escorted the Arcos to the end as was their duty.


    Tiriz barely even noticed how the remaining princesses followed after the rels. The cloven hooved one, the one without eyes, all those sixteen that survived converged and trailed behind like a vanishing funeral procession beneath the waves.


    She kept her eyes fixated on the spot where she last saw the Arcos yet her mind lingered. If she dwelled on the lost great one, then she would wish her own core had been broken in that battle. Oblivion seemed preferable to lingering when the Arcos was gone


    So, she imagined what dwelled beyond the edges of her vision. Somewhere on the shores of that underground ocean was Ad Scy and Ad Eu with their severely injured.


    Finally there was a disturbance, an eruption as all sixteen of the princesses emerged from the liquid. Those that might have been defeated were reborn to complete the arrangement of not quite human forms. The more aggressive ones escaping out like steam from a geyser while the more patient ones slowly broke through the surface.


    A majority resembled the myths they inspired or perhaps inspired them. Some were recognizable to the least knowing of eyes while others were more distorted and detached from their image.


    One could see the similarities of a centaur, gorgon, lamia, mermaid, harpy, werewolf, arachne, cyclops, and faun. However there were also those that inspired the idea of a flying horse, hundred handed giant, arae, unicorn, siren, catoplebus, and minotaur. Perhaps most obvious among those departed from their legend was perhaps the one akin to a hecatoncheires, though her default form possessed only six arms instead of all one hundred, like a goddess of war though she could not be called giant by the standard of myth.


    Some Princesses stood shorter than average by the standards of the modern era so a modern observer could justify not seeing the image of a minotaur in one with pink hair and small straight horns on her forehead. She more deeply resembled a satyr and perhaps even inspired that in turn.


    Though only one was of lower stature than Grafen Herst, the rel had been modeled off reality while the princesses followed a pattern of form and function, the faun like one that cleansed the rels.


    Then the rels surfaced one by one. First was the living island followed by the Hybrid then the rel with the face of their foe and the Storm. Finally emerged the Devil and finally Tiriz¡¯s own rel.The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    Tiriz¡¯s eyes followed her rel as Grafen Herst slowly but steadily climbed her way back up. The hand that once was Tiriz¡¯s had merged seamlessly with her arm after bathing in the aqua of life. The rel walked straight to Tiriz and with only the faintest of gestures said to the dyte what needed to be said to all those gathered. ¡°It is alright, she is safe now.¡±


    For an instant, all thought ceased and Tiriz forgot herself and all else, her consciousness subsumed by the moment. She heard the words ¡°Thank you,¡± without realizing they came from her own lips as the edges of her vision blurred. A remaining tear pooled in eyes she thought dry.


    How could she say something so vulgar in that sacred place? How could she use such a human expression?


    She told herself she did not speak for herself but for all. There was not a particle of doubt within her that the relief she felt was anything less than universal and no words she knew could ever be sufficient to express that.


    That the Arcos was secured was all that mattered. The sun could be dying and the universe be reduced to dust but all would be well because the only person that ever meant anything was safe.


    Grafen Herst observed the hand she received from Tiriz, the chitinous brass exterior of her left arm appeared to have stretched to cover the hand as well, then looked to the stump on Tiriz¡¯s matching arm. ¡°Sorry, I can not give this back to you now. Well, I guess I could but it would upset your balance.¡±


    Tiriz regarded her stump without the faintest emotion. It had been offered to one more important than herself, it seemed only natural. ¡°We will grow a new one.¡±


    The rel flexed her newly encased fingers. ¡°Then I hope you do not mind if I keep it. I missed having fingers on this side.¡±


    Tiriz was more curious as to why her rel even asked. ¡°We do not mind.¡±


    As the rel and dyte spoke, the princesses scattered, mostly in pairs. One with aspects of a wolf vanished from sight. The princess resembling a centaur grew bony spurs over her hooves and galloped on the walls. A princess with bent legs traveled the same route and raced across like lightning. To no surprise to anyone, the arachnid-like princess proved she could walk across the ceiling if she pleased.


    A cyclopean princess encased herself in a massive shell of coiled sinews and swam across. Riding atop her was a princess with a pair of horns. A finned princess accompanied them, gliding across the liquid as if it was ice,


    A princess like a lamia hummed and slithered across the bridge of black and grey ice that formed in front of her from the ocean of life. Following her was one with many arms.


    The princess without eyes tunneled into the living ground to be followed by a shaggy one and the one with cloven hooves.


    A winged princess flew away while one with a horn in the center of her forehead took a moment to summon a large clump of iron ore from outside and stood upon it to float across in the air.


    A princess with snakes for hair and one most seemingly human remained.


    As that transpired, the rel with their enemy¡¯s face dived back into the ocean and its army followed to disappear into the depths. If it proved to be the same as all the times before, they would not be seen again until the Arcos returned.


    The other rels led their wounded into the liquid but, unlike their compatriot, they chose to remain swimming upon the surface, populating the once empty waves with moving bodies.


    Grafen Herst proved no exception and invited all to accompany her as she returned to the ocean. Tiriz stayed behind for a short time as she removed her soiled garments then joined as instructed.


    Tiriz mimicked her rel and entered head first, the liquid washing over her as she broke through the surface. She inhaled as she entered, letting the fluid saturate her every pore. It felt natural, there was little difference to her between it and empty air except the liquid¡¯s warmth and pleasant viscosity proved more welcoming to her. It was almost oily, rich with ever present gradients like a salt lake but of opposing nature.


    She let her own buoyancy pull her up to the surface where she floated upon her back in that ocean of life. As it became a part of her, she felt herself become a part of it. Without even noticing, she became whole, the content of the liquid around her gravitated to her wounds and filled the gaps, forming into what she once lost.


    The voices of seventeen maidens in perfect sync filled the area. Even if Tiriz covered her ears, she would have heard it. Many spawn, desperate for purpose, joined in the tune, hoping somehow that might make them forget the ache that the Arcos¡¯s absence left. They lent their voices as instruments rather than as a chorus. The only ones with the heart to form words for the song after such a recent loss were the princesses.


    Larger organisms stomped their feet like drums or released heavy thunderous breathes akin to a chant to a slow and steady rhythm like the heartbeat of the world. They went quiet when the princesses sang, as to not overwhelm the voices with their pounding but pronounced the gaps between verses with a low drone, the beat ingrained into their being.


    The song would go on for one cycle, or close to two years by the measure of a long dead world, concluding at the anniversary of the Arcos¡¯s downfall when they would disperse. The world¡¯s longest performance. Thirty-three cycles was close to sixty years in an old world.


    The song was for those that remained. It was all one song. Little need for repeated lyrics as they recounted their ages long conflict with humanity. A string of past events would be punctuated with a promise of the future before the next set was woven together.


    Her kind knew the truth of the world, it was relayed through the music. Though the basic chronology befuddled Tiriz¡¯s calculations.


    No one else seemed to be bothered by it but her kind were created after humanity. That would suggest as if to correct an error. The Seed and Arcos were perfect. They could not make mistakes.


    An acceptable conclusion was that humanity was planted in advance of her own people¡¯s coming to have prey to combat against. If humanity came after the onset of spawn, the weak creatures would have been immediately uprooted,


    Within the song, there was also times when each princess sang alone dispersed across the arrangement. It was always in the same order, though the verses changed at times. It was in a language older than the world itself only the Arcos and the princesses ever spoke, though Tiriz was beginning to piece it together. The songs offered her little understanding as they lacked context beyond the tone the words were carried in but the more Tiriz overheard the rare occasion the princesses deemed to speak that tongue to each other, the more precise her assumptions became.


    The solo sessions told of a flower and beast, the battle between life and death. That much, Tiriz was certain of.


    However, the song disturbed her. When she was younger it granted her at least the resignation to mourn but as she came to understand the words, a slight heat like an ember in her head burnt.


    The need to never hear the song again always dwarfed her compulsion to understand the meaning behind it. It was a reminder that the Arcos was felled and with the words came thoughts of ending the chain, the urge to wipe the stain of humanity from the world completely and utterly.


    The feeling that once was alien to her came with every downfall. Tiriz told herself her logic was sound, that her mind was of the Arcos but it did not feel that way. Her drive to protect the Arcos did not burn that way, it did not ¡°hurt¡± that way. If she described it to her rel, she feared, ¡°fear¡± was not a word she wished to use but it fit too well, that her rel would call it something as profane as ¡°hate.¡±


    Spawn did not ¡°hate.¡± Did wolves hate sheep? Did humans hate cattle? No, and humans were less than cattle to Tiriz¡¯s kind. Spawn did not need to eat humans, their relationship was not even predator and prey but destroyer and casualty.


    Yet, then was not the time to purge. It was the time to rest and wait for their Arcos to return. The emptiness still gnawed at her core but now she was certain that it would one day end as it always did. The Arcos would return and Tiriz needed to be prepared, more prepared than last time.


    She lifted her newly formed hand from the liquid and stared at it. She made tests and it moved as if it had never been severed. She then brought it to her throat.


    She rubbed her neck, trying to find any lingering trace that her head ever parted from her body. Her fingers ran over her chest, her every wound gone.


    Just because they were gone, did not mean they were not once there. Even if she had been restored, it still had been a hindrance to herself and others. She would rather not find herself in that state again.


    She did not want to be a burden.


    In her mind, did she use the word ¡°want?¡± Spawn were only required to need. They needed to protect the Arcos. They needed to serve the Arcos. They needed to kill humans because that was what they were told to do. Individual wants and desires were unnecessary.


    To harbor even a desire to be useful was a flaw. A tool was either useful or it was not, concerns only decreased efficiency.


    Then how would she remove such a flaw before it compromised her further? An option came to mind. She could crush her own core.


    The core was where their experiences were stored. To mortals, it¡¯s destruction was akin to ¡°death,¡± the dissolution of the self developed so far. But spawn could not die so long as a piece of themselves remained. Losing a core would simply result in the spawn becoming inert until revived.


    That seemed extreme at first but the very thought of it justified itself. A sound course of thought would not have led to such a judgement unless the conclusion was correct or her logic was unsound and in need of correction which meant that option was appropriate. If self destruction was ever to be considered, did that mean she possessed an irreparable flaw and should be sent back to the beginning?


    Would she be serving her function by returning to optimal thought and form or failing in her role by purging the resource of knowledge and experience without instruction from her rel? The fact she did not immediately know the correct choice meant there was a fault in her reasoning. Did she lack key information?


    If she eliminated her consciousness without informing her superiors why, then the error might reoccur and she would need to repeat the process. It would be best to find a solution to the problem while she was aware of it.


    If she told her rel, it was all too likely her rel would dismiss the threat.


    ¡°Why¡± should not even be a concept for herself. She only needed to know what it was that she needed to perform, how to execute her task, then where and when to do so.


    Removing why from her thoughts, she presented herself with a set of questions.


    What was her purpose?


    To serve the Arcos.


    How should she serve the Arcos?


    As best she could.


    Where should she serve the Arcos?


    Where the Arcos placed her.


    Where was she placed?


    In her rel¡¯s custody.


    How could she best serve the Arcos?


    Her mind calculated numerous possibilities. Asking how often led to contradictory answers. The simplest answer was to do what she was told to do.


    To best protect the Arcos, one could perhaps try to hide the Arcos yet the Arcos rejected that course.


    They obeyed through instinct rather than philosophy. Those key instincts conveyed their meaning of life. They required not food or shelter yet possessed an urge to kill humans on sight. Nothing else captured such a response.


    The only drive greater than the need to fight and kill humans was their inability to disobey the Arcos and their protective compulsions towards their supreme one. The Arcos was both their source and their own offspring. To not shield her was unfathomable but ordered.


    She continued her inquiry but ignored ¡°how¡± for that moment.


    When was she told to damage her own core by her rel?


    She was never told to do so.


    When should she serve the Arcos?


    At all times.


    If she damaged her own core would she be using her time effectively to serve the Arcos?


    No.


    She could not damage her core then, not if it inconvenienced the Arcos. She looked to her restored hand. If her core had been damaged, she herself would have been reborn from a severed limb or dismembered torso.


    There was a way to start anew and not disrupt her ability to contribute.


    She could create an offshoot of herself.


    All that would be needed would be a piece of flesh and another her would be born.


    Offshoots though not born purposefully were a common occurrence. A lost spawn might have more than one piece return or a functioning one might somehow have an offshoot created by some accident.


    Most offshoots were cyfts, bereft of the experience of the original. They possessed cores like any other but their centers of thought began empty. Those that proceeded to act only on instinct might never awaken their former intelligence.


    She could have the lost digit restored as easily as her hand was returned to her. Then her offshoot could be informed of the situation. Would there be any more need for herself if another was given time to properly inherit her information?


    She brought her finger to her teeth, the extremity resting along vertically with the joint above the center of her tongue and bit down. There was a crunch and a jolt of pain as she broke the more rigid flesh beneath her skin that served as bone. Ichor filled her mouth but the digit was not yet severed. She needed to bite deeper.


    ¡°What are you doing with that fresh hand of yours, Tiriz?¡± A voice called out from nearby. With the other spawn splashing all around her and the song echoing throughout the space, Tiriz failed to notice her rel drift near her.


    Grafen Herst, floating with her chest facing the ocean¡¯s surface, kicked up some liquid as she drew close enough to look down into the dyte¡¯s eyes. They were facing opposite of each other, nearly forehead to chin.


    The dyte loosened her grip on the digit and removed it from her mouth to speak. ¡°We are preparing our replacement,¡± Tiriz answered.


    ¡°Why?¡±


    There was that unnecessary thought, ¡°why.¡± Though she had no right to voice that when she said very word earlier when they found the corpses of those that defiled their supreme one.


    Tiriz froze for a moment, she already knew the answer, what hindered her was an uncomfortable reluctance. ¡°We¡­¡± she began to assess but realized her phrase only applied to herself. ¡°We found that I developed a flaw.¡±


    ¡°Who is ¡°we¡±?¡± Grafen Herst inquired softly. ¡°I do not recall noticing such a thing.¡±


    Tiriz could not answer.


    Grafen Herst rested her left hand on Tiriz¡¯s forehead. ¡°Because I think you are improving. You finally said ¡°I¡±.¡±


    ¡°We should not say such a thing,¡± Tiriz contradicted. ¡°We were born to think for the sake of the Arcos.¡±


    ¡°Yes, you were born to think,¡± Grafen Herst agreed. ¡°So, it is your ideas you bring to my attention. Though I do not recall giving you permission to create an offshoot. Then again, I did not tell you not to. Well, stop for now. If there is supposed to be a second you, the Seed would create another like you.¡±


    ¡°It is a possibility that another like me is gestating or unrecognized,¡± Tiriz considered.


    ¡°Even if that is so, we have forever to win, Tiriz,¡± Grafen Herst stated. ¡°We do not need to rush, Tiriz.¡± The rel said the name with an odd warmth. Tiriz felt her own lips subtly be pulled down as she heard the word repeated again and again. ¡°Especially at the cost of the sanctity of the Seed. We follow the Seed¡¯s designs, it does not serve ours.¡±


    ¡°Understood.¡± Tiriz would have offered silent acknowledgment but the rel seemed to prefer hearing it. The dyte lowered her hand back beneath the waves and let it be restored.


    Grafin Herst tilted her head. Tiriz noticed that she seemed to be fixated on the dyte¡¯s mouth. Her faintly blue left eye reflected the faintest frown. ¡°What is wrong, Tiriz?¡±


    ¡°You refer to Ad Eu and Ad Scy as a single name,¡± Tiriz observed. ¡°For Yourself, we never hear you call yourself ¡°Grafin.¡± It is Grafin Herst. Yet you call us ¡°Tiriz¡± when you named us ¡°Tiriz Eben¡±.¡± Tiriz failed to recall a time that her rel called the dyte by her alleged name name. ¡°Why? Are we Tiriz or Tiriz Eben?¡±


    ¡°You are both,¡± the rel replied with little confidence as if asking a question in return or confused by the question. ¡°I supposed.¡±


    ¡°Why are we both?¡±


    ¡°Because I feel like it,¡± Grafen Herst replied adamantly with a far too human smile. ¡°And you seem like you could use two,¡± she added almost playfully.


    ¡°Feel,¡± such a troublesome word. Tiriz expected her rel to eventually settle on a name beginning with ¡°Ad.¡± The significance of the term ¡°Ad¡± only had meaning to Grafin Herst and was not a name in itself but rather a title of sorts to show favoritism. One of the names Tiriz almost received was Ad Zi.


    ¡°Is there anything else on your mind, my dyte? It is not like you to be¡­ so expressive.¡±


    ¡°Is that an order?¡±


    ¡°If that is what is required for you to speak, yes.¡±


    Tiriz thought to the beginning of what led to her actions. She traced it to the thought of I do not want to be a burden. What led to that assessment?


    She remembered that when the Arcos was felled, she was but a decapitated head.


    ¡°We failed,¡± Tiriz concluded.


    ¡°Failed what?¡± Grafen Herst inquired.


    ¡°We failed to protect the Arcos. While we were incapacitated, the Arcos was defeated. We defeated the enemy but the Arcos was still lost. Our actions were without meaning.¡±


    ¡°It was not meaningless,¡± her rel corrected. ¡°If that army was there while we were most vulnerable, we could have been butchered and the Arcos stolen from us.


    Tiriz could not disagree, the assessment was sensible. Or maybe she had to agree, for your own mind¡¯s sake as the pain of the Arcos¡¯s loss still ate at her. Though with the Arcos finally safe, she could convince herself that someday the lingering pain would disappear.


    ¡°Nothing we do is in vain,¡± the rel continued. ¡°Every day and every night we get closer to the Arcos''s wish. We have eternity to see it through so even a little progress is fine. So, let us settle for what we accomplished.¡±


    ¡°Still,¡± Tiriz began as she sought an escape from the pain the only way she could. ¡°We must request that you give us a purpose, our Rel. Give us an order.¡±


    ¡°Alright,¡± Grafen Herst agreed without scrutiny or hesitation. That earned a blink from Tiriz to a proposal so readily accepted. ¡°How about something only you might be able to do. Create something. Concoct some ideas and show them to me in four and a half cycles.¡±


    Tiriz stared at her rel. What was it that her rel needed from that? ¡°What do you need us to create?¡±


    ¡°If I told you what to make, it would not be so creative, I would guess. And Tiriz, this order is just for you. You can demand the support of whoever you may need but you would be the one making things so I think you should ask ¡°What do you want me to create?¡±¡±