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Changeling Part 96: Diplomatic Work
🕑 Added 2025-07-16 01:58:05 +0000 UTCNestra explained her cunning plan to get kero nuts back to Helena in the hope it would help with her condition. This led to a round of questions, but before Nestra could answer, the massive tiger Aszhii asked for a delay while she called people. Nestra dubbed her ‘Tigress’ with her approval because her real name was ‘RAAAAWRURR’ and Nestra couldn’t quite get the pronunciation right. It was just a little too low-pitched for her vocal chords. After that, a quick group of Elders showed up in a burst of hastened conversations. Apparently, it was a Big Deal and now Nestra was feeling nervous. Perhaps sensing her dismay, Blinky distributed small briny glasses of something she grew in her den. The Elders shivered in delight upon consumption but after asking if she could taste and being cordially refused, she was informed those were potent neurotoxin cocktails that would drop her dead on the spot.
No accounting for taste.
About twenty Aszhii were present besides her coven sisters before the attention suddenly shifted to her. Just their presence made the room exist more in an indescribable way that told her there might be people above A-class present. She didn’t dare ask.
Explaining the situation didn’t take long after she got started, even though she had to pause to order her thoughts.
“And you are certain that she is not using you for her own pursuit?” a four-arms, levitating sister asked her, all hands joined in a nervous grip.
“She’s 16 rotations old. She sulks when she fails her biology tests and gets grounded.”
Some of the Elders muttered, with Tigress taking the lead this time.
“You seem certain that she cares for you as a sibling. There have been such cases, but…”
“If she wanted to betray me, she had every opportunity,” Nestra replied, suddenly annoyed. “Look, she’s a juvenile axe user with a strength and void attunement. She’s, ah, a very direct individual. I wouldn’t say she doesn’t have guile since we raided together under our parents’ nose, I merely want to point out that all of her aggression comes via application of a void-coated axe. I have complete trust in her.”
“Many have made the same mistake,” one of the Aszhii argued.
“Was Serethion aware? He must not have approved, what with…”
That Elder didn’t finish her sentence. Nestra knew her brother had had some bad experiences, but he had remained tight-lipped throughout the months.
“It doesn’t really matter,” Nestra interrupted, “Because she never betrayed me and I love her, and I want to help her, and this doesn’t place any of us in danger so…”
Nestra shrugged.
“The cub is right. It is her gift to share,” Tigress asserted, closing the discussion. “Now, I am more interested in knowing how a host race developed void mana affinity. To our knowledge, it has never occurred.”
“Naturally,” another Elder interjected.
This launched another round of discussions concerning a ‘Stargazer’ empire that went quiet some eons ago. Nestra’s ear picked up terms like ‘space dwellings’ and ‘bloodline manipulation of client races’ that made her think of Shinran’s training center. She decided not to share that particular tidbit. The discussion remained blessedly short-lived anyway.
“Tell us of this artificial insemination technology,” Blinky flashed.
Her tentacles moved with clear excitement. Thankfully, Nestra had done her homework.
“So IVF is a well-understood process usually done if a couple has had difficulties to procreate for over a year, or longer in the case of ascended.”
“You use such precious knowledge on the unawakened?” one of the Elders gasped.
“Well, our society is less hierarchical, the process does not require any mana, is cheap, and we are trying to bounce back population-wise,” Nestra explained, before realizing a few of the Elders disapproved of her use of ‘we’.
She had to be careful.
“Humans believe that as the ambient mana levels rise, most of the unawakened will eventually reach awakening. New ascended are constantly born to unawakened families, after all.”
The Elders seemed to understand.
“So anyway the process starts with lab-created hormones to increase egg production.”
“What is a hormone?” one of the Elders who looked like a carnivorous plant with feet asked.
“Stop interrupting,” Mood Dancer whispered in everyone’s mind.
“Ask your neighbors or we will be here until the end of the harvest,” Tigress commented.
The Elder’s leaves fluffed with outrage but Blinky managed to disarm the tension with a quick, light-speed presentation which allowed Nestra to continuing peace.
“This egg harvesting syringe thing sounds barbaric,” someone complained.
Overall, the coven sisters seemed impressed that humans could achieve post-Aszhii natality successfully and without any spells. Nestra observed the way they moved around, or above the table, exchanging words so fast she couldn’t follow. There didn’t seem to be a consensus on what to think yet.
“Fascinating. Some rare Aszhii keep an attachment to their mothers. Perhaps they will find solace in the belief that some might be helped carrying host kin life again?” Tigress said with no confidence.
Nestra shrugged. All that mattered to her was that no one would go after Helena for having secret powers.
“And you said that your sister is suffering?” Karamahel asked.
“Yes,” Nestra replied. “The void mana is harming her at a cellular level. We managed some effective treatment, and she’s been doing better, but she must still regulate the use of her powers or they will destroy her. I’m pretty sure it will get better after she reaches the third ascension but I fear she could, well, die before it happens. Second ascension means a solid core and that means a lot more mana to play with. However!”
She leaned in with a conspiratorial tone.
“Kero nuts nourish and refresh us. I am not certain, but I believe it could help her heal and adapt her body. At the very least, she will be rejuvenated.”
“Would there be a way to ascertain if this is true?” Tigress asks.
“Absolutely. Doctor Mazingwe is following her closely. He, ah, he knows about me. He really helped me track my progress and how my powers worked. And also my speed by throwing blunt knives at my head,” Nestra grumbled.
“Those humans are extraordinary pack bonders,” Sorai said with awe.
“Host kin species are not meant to eat kero nuts,” Four Arms said. “It might kill her.”
This triggered another round of discussions, and also drilled fear in Nestra’s heart. Her intuition was that no, kero nuts were not poisonous. They were just void-attuned food just like water-attuned fish was especially nourishing for water gleams. The consensus went in her direction anyway.
“It shouldn’t kill her on the spot. If she grows sick, a good mage should be able to save her,” another Elder argued.
“You need to send more than the nuts. You must also send instructions,” Four Arms stated.
“Explain your plan,” Moon Dancer whispered.
“So, Sashimi sometimes regurgitates the cores of her victims at Helena in an attempt to feed her,” Nestra began.
Unfortunately this triggered another round of discussions.
***
In the end, the Elders agreed out of curiosity if nothing else. Nestra got the impression humans were very new and what was new was also exciting. She would have to ride that wave to a proper finish.
Locating Sashimi wasn’t hard. Tigress could perceive the mark left by the void shark, and trace it back. The tank-sized Elder was apparently very, very good at hunting. The issue was transportation. Nestra needed something that could withstand void shark stomach acid which was a tall order indeed, except that Blinky had just such a membrane in her den and would take a couple of hours to properly grow and shape. It was a matter of seconds to write a message on a piece of paper Nestra had in her dimension pocket. The Elders left for now, which meant Nestra was free to continue her on boarding by visiting Karamahel’s den. The A-class exuded quiet confidence as she led Nestra through one of the main doors.
The antechamber gave the tone. Like a palace’s entrance, it was a monumental room decorated with pillars covered in pennants, flags, and battle standards. The garish assortment of colors didn’t hide the facts that they were all torn and stained. Karamahel didn’t collect palace displays hanging from walls during grand weddings. Those were war flags, and they carried their scars with them. At their feet were also helmets and a wide assortment of weapons, most of them broken in some way. A massive helmet with a ridiculous plume sported a massive gash near the temple so either the previous owner could survive without a brain, or they were dead. But you never knew with politicians.
“How many wars is that?” Nestra asked.
“They bleed into one another,” Karamahel said softly.
She gently pulled her braid behind one of her elegantly curved horns, then her hand dropped to the unyielding bone of her militarized Skin. She picked the plumed helmet Nestra had watched.
“General Kerys. He was an ambitious man from a modest family who rose through the ranks on cunning and competence. He obtained the governorship of a planet, then squeezed it mercilessly. The Steil lost one inhabitant in five in under 10 years. That was the name of the client race.”
She looked up.
“I led the rebellion. I cast the final blow.”
She dropped the helmet.
“Then the imperial army came and cut us down. I left before they could kill my mask. The Steil survived, however, and no governor dared to push them so far afterward.”
Nestra looked at the broken piece of gear, then at the other.
“But all my students perished,” Karamahel finished with a dry delivery.
She couldn’t possibly not care, Nestra realized. Or perhaps she had lost so many followers, numbness had replaced grief. That was a strange way to leave one’s life.
“Do you collect military campaigns?”
“I collect desperate struggles,” Karamahel said without emotion. “I collect the weak and the doomed. I pick up a corpse and merge in, then I learn their ways, and then I teach them how to win a war. I teach them how to harness their strengths, how to make themselves too expensive, time-consuming, or frustrating to subdue. I collect changed fates and altered trajectories. Those?”
She dropped the helmet. It clanged on a dented bone breastplate.
“Those are just mementos. Trophies.”
“Do you really turn the tide of war by yourself?” Nestra asked.
Karamahel shrugged.
“Not always, not necessarily by a lot. What matters is that I try. Every attempt leaves a mark, balancing the scales ever so slightly.”
Nestra stole a glance towards the, well, they referred to themselves as subjects of the Heavenly Court. Heavenly would do, she guessed. Karamahel looked wistfully at some of the trophies, frowned at others.
“Is there… perhaps a logic to what the coven members collect?”
“All Aszhii,” Karamahel replied. “And it is perceptive of you to guess, but I would also avoid questioning the collector too brazenly.”
Her abyssal eyes turned to Nestra.
“I do not mind, of course, so do not be concerned. But for example, Sorai will want to show you her bone collections. The brood matriarchs of her species are built such temples where they are revered and cared for for the remnant of their fertile lives. No one will ever build her a temple, so she is building her own. Or that is what I surmise.”
Karamahel turned away.
“I am counting on your discretion, of course. For all we bicker, I do care for her. She has such a living heart.”
Then Karamhel closed herself again, moving on into the den proper with the question of her own motivation left unanswered. Nestra had to admit, the Heavenly’s private quarters were wonderful. Tasteful furniture lay carefully arranged over a space that seemed chaotic until Nestra realized a subtle method made every ‘room’ spacious and pleasant. The thorn organism had been woven and braided into pergolas of varying heights, the thorns a dark mirror of a rose garden on the verge of blooming. Every piece of furniture seamlessly melded with the walls in arrangements that reminded Nestra of Art Nouveau, with designs so close to an idealized nature, they were almost indistinguishable. Every vase or trinket felt like the center of some fancy collection. It was even difficult to identify, in the kitchen, what was decorative and what was function. She suspected they were all both. The bedroom was the only outlier with the remnants of militaristic ‘function over form’ philosophy that made it more austere than the rest. Even the light there was blue, provided my mana crystals Karamahel reignited as she walked by.
“Wow,” Nestra said.
“The thorns will answer your call, though it will take a long while before you reach the shaping knowledge to achieve this level of control. You may also employ the services of a shaper.”
Karamahel paused, face turning up with disappointment.
“But I find it to be a terrible waste of effort. Control is important in mana weaving. I would not miss such a good opportunity to practice, even if I am more of a duelist myself.”
“Ah, that reminds me…”
Nestra hesitated.
“Speak,” Karamahel ordered.
“Do you perhaps know Sereth? I mean, independently?”
The tall Aszhii cackled. It lacked warmth.
“I do have a weakness for idealists, especially those who remain so after hundreds of rotations. But no, we barely spoke. I was not even sired by Agathon.”
“Agathon, is that…”
“Yes,” Karamahel replied.
She handed Nestra a cup of something that tasted herbal and elegant, something Sereth would have liked.
“Your father.”
Nestra’s face turned with anger.
“I can see there is no love lost here,” Karamahel noted with dark amusement.
“You mean he raped my mom then left me to starve for 25 rotations? Yeah, I would call him ‘genitor’ and nothing else,” she hissed. “My father raised me and then rescued me knowing what I was. He loves me. He is the only one I will call dad.”
Karamahel smirked, eyes guarded.
“Agathon will not be pleased to learn this.”
“My real father also said he’d kill the bastard for touching his wife, even if it takes a thousand years.”
This time, Karamahel did laugh. It wasn’t pretty.
“I fear it will take more than that,” the Heavenly mocked. “Ah, the fires of youth. Your host kin father has my respect if nothing else, but I would advise caution. Agathon is ancient. He is also a fifth ascension.”
Nestra paused.
An S-class Aszhii? Sereth cracked portal worlds like eggs with a single punch. How powerful could Agathon be?
“There are rumors he is interested in your planet,” Karamahel remarked off-handedly.
Nestra paused before she could reply. There was something in Karamahel’s tone that reminded her of Kim, a way to ask follow-up questions to get information she wanted.
The issue was, Nestra wasn’t sure how and why.
“Is this about loyalty?” she bluntly asked.
Karamahel gave her a long look, then she sighed. Her shoulders slumped under the plated Skin.
“You come from an extremely social species. We have had cases before where young sisters held a lasting loyalty to their hives or clans or whatever it was, only it was a remnant of their mask’s lives. Many returned, only to be spurned or, sometimes, even eliminated. But it seems your entire family knows about you, and they accept you as you are.”
“They covered my retreat,” Nestra stated, “After my secret was out. In fact, thousands of warriors gathered to send me off.”
Karamahel slowly shook her head, eyes widened.
“This is… unprecedented.”
“Yes. So you understand my position, perhaps. I am Aszhii. But I am a human-born Aszhii. I want… I want to be the bridge between the two species. And I need help.”
Karamahel stood closer, expression unreadable.
“What kind of help?”
“I need help presenting a proposal. I think Aszhii and human can enter a pact. We Aszhii could walk the planet without a mask, and enjoy the same services as humans do. A world where we might be without any concern.”
Karamahel scoffed.
“And the humans would accept that? A parasite brood like us? I do not believe you.”
“Trust me, most humans would be ok with Aszhii around. So long as the Aszhii are honest, I know some boys and girls would definitely enter relationships. Hell, my good friend Stibbs is Seth’s girlfriend.”
“And she knows?”
“She does, and she also knows what having children entails. I think they might, you know. Get together. When Sereth returns.”
“When Sereth returns,” Karamahel said slowly.
She blinked.
“And you want help making a, what, an alliance? You realize we are not even a united species.”
“Just the covens would be a good start, and it could be just Threshold too. That’s the, uh, nation I come from. With the covens declaring Earth a sanctuary, and Threshold offering citizenship, who knows how we could benefit one another? Otherwise, other Aszhii will hunt humans for the benefits they bring.”
Karamahel tilted her head to the side.
“Endless core progress.”
“Yes. If this is how our relationship is built, then the humans will hate and fear us forever. I do not believe they can be a serious threat,” Nestra quickly said in case her meaning was misunderstood. “I’m just saying, there is another way. I don’t think there are many species that would offer ‘spa’ treatment to a maskless Aszhii.”
Karamahel frowned.
“What is a ‘spa’?”
Gotcha.
***
Karamahel agreed to help Nestra formulate a way to convince the covens. At this stage, Nestra had no idea if the project was favorable or doomed to fail because Karamahel had no idea either, and that was because such a thing had never been attempted among the eclectic gathering that was the covens. In fact, the covens had never come to a common agreement that wasn’t related to war. Nestra was still hopeful if only because the old sisters enjoyed novelty, and there was little more novel to them than being accepted as they were. Sorai was particularly excited.
“Mantis style kung fu?” she asked. “That is so strange! Why shape a limb like what it is not?”
“Because hands are actually not the best tool to hit things, mostly because we use the fingers for everything, yes.”
“Oh yes! But then… why use your hands to fight?”
Nestra tilted her head to the side.
“Because sometimes you just really want to punch someone in the face?”
“Oh yes! Oh, look! Blinky is ready!”
Nestra followed the jellyfish into a strange and wondrous segment. While Karamahel had shaped her den like a palace, Blinky’s domain was an underground cavern of massive proportions, the spines shaped like shellfish-covered rocks or dormant coral clusters. Nestra had to float rather than walk as everything was hanging from various spots under the deep green glow of crystals and bioluminescent life forms. Sacs and pouches held varieties of gestating creatures or.. actually Nestra wasn’t sure. Some of the simple designs she saw suggested Blinky might be building items more than breeding beasts. The jellyfish happily bobbed to one of the transparent spheres to retrieve a bowl that looked a bit like transparent algae.
“This is practically inert,” she flashed. “It will resist the void acid of your shark’s stomach for several hours.”
“Wow. Must be really resilient.”
“It is significantly more resilient. Unfortunately, the shark will excrete it if it stays in its stomach any longer.”
The jellyfish bobbed hesitantly, one tendril extending towards the cocoon.
“Probably,” she amended.
“Sashimi is fairly fast when it comes to finding Helena. The problem is that Helena might not be raiding for a while. My host kin family might be under guard right now,” Nestra said, remembering to add ‘host kin’ at the last possible moment.
Although it might be too late to pretend not to care that much.
“Why would it matter?” Blinky pulsed.
Ah.
“Sashimi dislikes the low mana level of my host world. It takes a lot of convincing to make her move. Although… ah whatever. Let me just try.”
“We will call Tigress.”
***
Nestra floated in the void, a shadow on a shadow’s background barely lit by the Abyssar’s radiance. She was the huntress, the ambusher, the perfect predator. Given momentum by her own volition instead of grandmother’s help, she stalked her prey in silence. The creature swam with sinuous grace among the thorns. It, too, was a predator. Its confidence would spell its downfall. Angling herself, Nestra prepared to plunge.
The shark darted over an open ground like an arrow before stopping under the protection of another thorn, or so she thought. Nestra plunged. The burst of speed followed the projected trajectory of her prey.
She used passe-muraille at the last moment, sliding through matter and landing square on the shark’s back. She grabbed the fin with greedy hands.
“Got you!” she screamed with a mad cackle.
Sashimi’s reaction was instant and terrible. Her body jerked with terror and aggression, powerful jaws searching for, and failing to grab any of Nestra’s limbs.
“How does it feel to have someone get the jump on you, you bloated handbag, huh? Huh? Can’t find me though the tracker you cheat?”
Nestra dropped off the shark’s back before the beast could slam her in a nasty pillar. Her B-class reflexes easily allowed her to grab the monster’s snout before it could descend upon her torso. Sashimi’s oblong body was mercilessly rotated. Grappling ensued. Nestra’s ascension made that struggle an uneven one. After a good five minutes of fruitless battle, Sashimi escaped, livid, her tail beating with her annoyance.
“No wait, waaaait! I need you to save Helena!”
Help whelp!
Sashimi understood the message because she turned around to launch one more attack at Nestra, who cleverly dodged while sacrificing one of her mana meat bags to the striking maw. The shark munched on the prize, digesting it and her own anger.
Help whelp.
Nestra knew for a fact that, while Sashimi was cunning, she was not exactly the fastest harpoon in the missile rack. She had to make it simple.
Eat bag. Throw up bag at whelp. Bag good.
The shark turned around, giving the transport membrane a baleful glare. Once she determined it didn’t look dangerous, the shark swallowed it in one go. Just as she turned, Sashimi struck Nestra in the head with a mighty tail swing. Nestra was forced to block before the sandpaper skin could smash into her nose. The blow still sent her careening against a nearby spike pillar, but her resilience could take it.
“Ow!”
Victorious, the stupid fish skittered away before slipping through space. Hopefully it meant she’d located Helena. Nestra rose from that segment of the spike tree, joining Tigress and Four Arms.
“I do not think we share the same understanding of taming,” Four Arms noted with some irritation. “I believe you should dominate your lesser for it to count.”
Nestra shrugged.
“How many people do you know who can use void sharks as transplanar couriers?”
Four arms crossed all of them over her chest while Tigress rumbled with laughter.
***
To Nestra’s surprise, Tigress requested her hair be combed since she didn’t have prehensile fingers, and humans were supposed to be especially adroit. It was the sort of bonding experience Nestra was all for as it showed humans in a positive light and to be fair, humans would pet and comb anything. Nestra managed to return to the coven by herself which was quite nice, then she did what had been delayed for quite some time now: meeting the last member of the squad. The colder part of her recognized that it would also offer a way to show humanity’s worth.
Sorai led her through her own den which was a bone cathedral as gothic as it was intimidating, a sharp contrast to the Aszhii’s bubbling behavior. Sorai’s incessant banter did little to hide her nervous energy.
Soon, they arrived near Grook’s room. It was… a room. Not large, lacking furniture, and particularly messy. Beast pelts and a variety of rocks lay haphazardly alongside discarded children toys and various instruments and wooden contraptions of unknown purposes. Caveman tech or thereabout. Grook was sitting on the ground, facing the entrance.
Nestra wasn’t sure what she’d expected but honestly, Sorai’s description of the host species’ mating habits should have been a hint. Grook was the same height as Nestra sitting and humanoid, but she looked like she was made of coarsely carved rock. If someone had hastily carved the figure of a powerfully muscular woman on a cliffside and then planted steel wires in lieu of hair, that would be Grook. Even her face wasn’t ugly so much as it was caricatural, a hasty sketch of a troll rather than a proper drawing under a pair of stubby horns. For all of her rocky exterior, there was something immensely vulnerable in her posture, and the way her red dress clung to her (comparatively) small breasts that made Nestra want to pat the poor girl’s head. A sense of shame radiated from the stooped posture. And she was C-rank, and felt young to Nestra’s Aszhii instincts. The lack of collection and otherwise messy space didn’t bode well for the future.
Right. Time to be the big sister, because this was either depression, withdrawal, or both. Fortunately, Nestra had an idea what to do. Hikkikomori were common in a soulless city on a perpetual grind, where gleams like Nestra shone all over the news with the lure of glory, money, and fame. A vertiginous height separated the top performers from the bottom of the ladder. Worse, many of the upper echelons of society were only available to gleams. Many people just shut down under the pressure, retreating in a world of their own helped by the widely available internet and a great many forms of escapism. Threshold was too competitive to really care about those that were left behind.
The siren song of hanging up on life had haunted Nestra before she entered the police academy. She had researched how to handle pressure. Pride, as much as willpower, had saved her.
The way to help those who had withdrawn themselves might not be applicable to… whatever she was, but there was no hurt in trying. With an effort of will, Nestra focused. Her mind reached for the tangle of webs that were the nearby worlds and found one that would do. With an effort of will, a portal opened.
Grook eyed the blue aperture with an unreadable expression.
“Hi, I’m Nestra. Hunt?” Nestra offered.
She extended a hand.
After a few seconds of hesitation, the trap worked. Grook stood up until she was half again as tall as Nestra, then she crossed through.
Reconnect with a passion.
Every Aszhii loved hunting.
***
This world was jungle heavy with no traces of intelligent life in a reasonable distance. Except Nestra of course. She managed to find a beast trail leading to a nearby river. Pointing it at Grook rewarded her with her first words.
“Yes! We can ambush.”
Her voice was low-pitched and gravelly, with a slow pronunciation that wasn’t just a result of lower ascension. Nestra still managed to help Grook climb up a large tree, then they hung on a large branch, covered in shadow mana. A large C-class black beast soon stomped near with no care in the world. It looked somewhere between a bear and a boar, but perhaps with more tusks. Nestra carefully pointed in its direction.
“First one’s yours,” she whispered.
Grook jumped down just as the monster offered its flank, catching it in its blind spot. It was as if a switch had been flipped and the demure troll girl turned into a raging hurricane of meaty fists and unbidden fury.
“Wow,” Nestra whispered.
For all of her efforts, Grook was a little sloppy. Unguided savagery allowed the monster to get a few licks in, to the point that Nestra wondered if she should interfere, but the monster suddenly shook, wracked with pain. Grook’s fists were emitting a pulse that wasn’t exactly mana, most likely an Aszhii skill. It was possible the C-class had picked something to hit harder while Nestra relied more on positioning with momentum. After that, the fight was short, and Grook roared in victory.
Nestra landed with a gentle word of congratulations. Grook immediately tried to hide her wounds which were superficial.
“Well done. Your technique could use some refinement,” Nestra told her even though what she wanted to say was ‘girl you are a mess’.
“How about we eat it?”
“Yes!”
***
Nestra arrayed slices of meat on a long leaf in front of the towering form of Grook, the large girl sitting there like a nervous wreck shivering with hope. Nestra had picked a part of the dead monster’s back that would be the sirloin in a cow with the hope that approximate anatomy would provide her with a tastier morsel. At least, it was marbled. And properly seasoned.
The slices were presented in cooking order with the first being so rare it was basically raw, just a quick sear and done. The last was well done. Nestra didn’t hate well done like some of her more purist fellow meat lovers, believing that people’s tastes varied. Grook might feel differently, however. She gingerly picked the first slice before crushing it under a dentition that could probably reduce hooves to powder.
“Ish goot,” the younger Aszhii rumbled.
“Alright. Nice to know. Try the next one.”
“Ish goot.”
This repeated for all of the slices to the last one.
“Ehrm. Is there any you prefer?”
Grook froze like a deer in headlights.
“It’s ok, no pressure. We can try more to see if you have preferences. I like medium rare the best. Right. How about a nap?”
“No,” Grook stated.
She pointed at a nearby peak upon which a large bird landed.
“I want feathers and eggs,” Grook said with a lot of hope.
She was definitely a woman of few words.
“Alright,” Nestra agreed. “Let’s bag ourselves a volatile.”
***
They returned four hours later with renewed meat reserves. Nestra’s only concern was that she would run out of cooking oil and butter at some point, but that would take a while. An ecstatic Sorai welcomes them home. Grook was completely spent by then so she retreated to her mother’s den, but Nestra accepted tea in the common room.
“You have done so well. I am so grateful!” Sorai wailed, tears dripping from her abyssal eyes.
Moon Dancer and Karamahel were both smiling too.
“You need to realize that it will take time before Grook really opens up,” Nestra said. “You can’t push this, and I’m also worried she will grow too attached to me. Dependence isn’t a good thing, but yes, so far so good. Just expect slow progress.”
Blinky messaged that she would defer to Nestra. The coven seemed most pleased with her, which could only help with both human reputation and the loyalty issue. Nestra had good hopes.
First, she would convince the Aszhii to give humans a chance, then she would do the reverse. And she had a plan for that too.
Comments
Jacob Harris
Is the plan for getting humans to trust Aszhii to do a cooking show with them? That'd be my plan lol
Flugufrelsarinn
Im not an expert but I dont recognise the reason given for the cause of depression/Hikkikomori. Here it seems like the unattainability of status/power is what causes depression, rather than the meaninglessness of living in a society straining for such shallow ideals. Or of a deeper personal failure to live up to your own ideals/dreams. I can only speak of personal experience, but would not being chosen as a gleam, really be such a personal failing? Its getting your dreams dashed, but is that a prevalent cause of longterm depression? If youre a powerhungry fool, i dont think a lack of power makes u depressed. Pretty sure long term depression is a symptom of capitalist society, but taking a honest look at the cause, threatens the underpinnings of the societal lies that that system is built on. What you described here, seems like an easy and dishonest explanation to me
Benjamin Mages
Grook's mother is a praying mantis-like creature and she had Grook after shape shifting into a member of the boulder race and having sex with Grook's father.
Redeyes Eclipse
I having hard time remembering how grooks mother look like or why she a boulder x x
