After the whole incident with the fermentation tank explosion and subsequent search for the wounded bystander, everyone had come up short, finding no one.

  There had been talks of Kenneth making it all up, but the blood and footsteps were undeniable proof that some attributed to a bad fight with no one to supervise.

  But even so, why wouldn’t they just come forward? It didn’t make sense.

  After a while, there had been nothing left to do, and Kenneth had returned to his mold-growing station only to find everything he’d bought from the merchant ransacked.

  With as much stuff as there was and the fact that he’d used some of the items, it was hard to figure out what had been taken, with Split simply saying that this was the result of him forgiving Nokeehutro.

  The idea being if anyone were ever to be brought to trial for this, he’d be too soft to follow through on punishment.

  Her word had annoyed him more than the thief, since as far as he could tell, none of the important stuff had been taken: medicine, honey, syrup, poison, and mold or anything really. Whatever had been taken could be kept, since he doubted even if he did relay this to Nokuji or someone else, the thief wouldn’t be found, especially in this world without cameras.

  That's not to say measures wouldn’t be taken to ensure a future incident wouldn’t ruin his work.

  Eventually, everything had more or less returned to normal, and life went on as if nothing had happened. Kenneth still spent his days healing and teaching, but the longer it went without making progress on the translation of the book, the more he felt a looming dread of stagnation, as roots slowly and continuously burrowed under the stones, threatening to settle in this place, eventually.

  ‘I can’t avoid it forever,’ He sighed.

  “You have something to say again?” Split asked.

  He let out another sigh, this one filled with frustration as opposed to anxiety. “Honestly, after everything you and I have been through, saving each other’s lives, having a heart-to-heart, or the closest thing to, why can’t you just have a little trust in me?”

  Split leaned forward in her seated position, “It’s the commander’s orders I have to keep watch.”

  “Yes,” Kenneth said, rubbing his brow and clenching. “But does that really have to include watching me on the toilet?”

  “You are watching me.”

  “Because you take the seat in front of me,” Kenneth groaned. “There are no windows; you could just stand guard outside the door.”

  “I have to watch you, we both have to shit,” Split replied.

  “I have an almost all-meat diet. I know nothing about this is elegant, but I’d prefer to have the few times I actually do get to go in here, to be less intrusive,” Kenneth almost begged. “Do you know how hard it was to find a time no one else was on the toilet. Being caught with my pants down and slapped on my back is an experience I don’t want to repeat.”

  Split looked at him, the sound of a ‘plop’ echoing over the running water, “You have seen me more vulnerable.”

  “You're dragging me down to the nest so you can lay an egg; that one’s on you, and I looked away,” Kenneth countered.

  “That’s you, this is me.”

  “Urg… honestly, talking to a wall would be more productive.”

  It was a frustration he had to live with, but one he was annoyingly getting used to.

  At least this intrusion on his privacy was not one Kolu had to share, Kenneth keeping Split and any other out while he went. Nokstella, he was a bit more certain, could handle it on her own, despite how obscene the concept seemed to him; it was a part of the social norm for bathrooms to lack stalls, be unisex, and a place to chat.

  When everyone was finished it was time to leave.

  Out on the street, everyone was buzzling, more than normal, it seemed, with barely anyone coming up to him complaining about having ear problems, and he doubted it was because of the time or route he took. Normally, he’d meet at least ten; now it was only two.

  And most oddly of all, the doors to the nest were wide open, guarded, of course, but with women carrying eggshells out gently.

  “Are they cleaning out?” Kenneth asked.

  “They are,” Split replied.

  “So is it spring cleaning or what?”

  “It’s the tail end of fall.”

  “Really?” Kenneth remarked. “I can hardly tell the difference between it and summer; must be spending too much time down here.”

  “Shel, it tradition,” Nokstella piped up.

  “Are they taking them for something?” Kenneth asked, with Nokstella giving an eager nod back. “Well then, do tell.”

  “They get many shel, put all, all place, then music, song, games, stories, sad, fun,” Nokstella excitedly said. “Noktato, yes, it tradition, her hatching.”

  “Sounds fun, I bet you are excited, so what exactly happens in this tradition?” Kenneth asked, wondering if it might be a chance for an opportune moment. “I hope it isn’t like with the full moon.”

  “It’s a celebration of life, not love, with everyone coming together later, those who play, play music or games,” Split said.

  “I do in fact play a few instruments…” he trailed off for a second. “…myself, maybe I should see what you have and give it a try, I’m a bit rusty, but great on the flute.”

  “Flute…?”

  “You know, a long tube with holes you blow… oh yeah, I guess you lot can’t, you got lips that cover your fangs, but I guess you can’t really use them all that well,” Kenneth, slightly muttered.

  “What it sound like?” Nokstella asked.

  “A little like this,” Kenneth wetted his lips and whistled a gentle, happy tune, with Nokstella and Kolu looking up at him with awe, unaware he could make such a sound.

  Of course, that included everyone in the vicinity. All of them looked around with some freaking out at the unfamiliar noise, at which point he stopped.

  “Again, again!” Nokstella cheerily yelled.

  “Now, now, let’s not scare anyone; most of them didn’t seem to like it,” Kenneth replied. “Hopefully you can hear more later, but first we've got to make a stop.”

  Talking to Noksuza and the other blacksmiths was the same as per usual, but they would do the job for a high fee, since it was a rush order, involving sore wrists, lube, and anything else he could get them of a similar nature.

  They sure would be popular at the next full moon orgy.

  But with that taken care of, there was nothing that stopped him from… going topside, ready to teach healing.

  It would be a while before his students arrived, so in the meantime, he did his work with the mold, while Kolu and Nokstella entertained themselves by finding something to play with from the horde.

  He only managed to chart down a few specimens’ growth when approaching familiar footsteps echoed into the small, dark room, signaling what he knew to be the beginning of an awkward conversation.

  She was wearing that dark red sleeveless overcoat-looking attire, with the golden brooch on her chest, the same as the first time they met.

  “Hi, umm… good you could come again,” Kenneth said, already feeling his insides freezing.

  “I try never to miss it,” she answered quickly, but not in an angry or cold tone, more so neutral, devoid of most emotions.

  “That’s why you are my best student,” Kenneth said loudly just as Nokset walked in and took his seat. He had clearly heard, but the only part Kenneth knew he’d contest would be the last word. “Now, are you both ready for the exciting lesson on prostate exams?. Anal without any of the fun.”

  ‘Christ in heaven, what am I saying!’

  He was a forty-year-old man who possessed a below-average amount of shame, but even so, he didn’t have the stones to have a conversation with a woman. Probably one of the many reasons his wife wanted a divorce, but that was neither here nor there.

  The lesson was as informative as ever, went smoothly, though he couldn’t say the same for the gloves Nokset and Nokoovo had to put on. His ability to create things with the bag was normally an easy process, though changing his mental picture of a five-fingered glove to one with three big ones wasn’t easy. But nevertheless, there was some success, with the day's lesson ending a bit sooner than normal.

  “I hope I haven’t ruined your appetite with all of that,” Kenneth said with the slightest hint of apologeticness.

  Nokset, taking his gloves off, replied, “I’ve eaten worse.”

  “Yeah, didn’t think so.”

  “If that is all, I will get back to my duties,” Nokoovo said, inspecting her glove extensively.

  “Actually, Nokoovo, could… could I have a word?” Kenneth asked.

  She looked away from her glove and met Kenneth’s gaze. Nokset had been more than ready to leave, but he, with a smug expression, took a seat on the table near the exit, enjoying the show but ready to escape.

  “What is it, Kenneth?”

  “I… I…” Kenneth said in a long, drawn-out manner. ‘Oh, you spineless jackass, just grow a pair!’

  “I wanted to talk to you, see how you were doing.”

  “I’m doing well,” she replied. “Mother seems to be content now that I’m taking less time away from my duties.”

  “That’s… good to hear,” Kenneth internally sighed as he decided to rip the band-aid off. “Actually, I wanted to talk about that conversation a while back with your mother about the whole life partner thing. I just want to say I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings; it wasn’t my intention.”

  She tilted her head slightly in an expression of confusion. “You haven’t hurt me.”

  “I haven’t?” Kenneth questioned in similar confusion. “But it’s just, you seemed different lately, you are not as vocal in class.”

  “I was only being respectful, aside from the times I couldn’t hold back my questions,” She admitted.

  “Respecting me?” Kenneth repeated in a confused tone.

  “After my mother asked you to become my life partner, and…” She began explaining before trailing off for a moment, looking a bit uncomfortable. “Afterwards, in class, you were different. I guessed I had done something wrong by asking if you would so publicly and decided to keep my distance.”

  “What, no, you did nothing wrong,” Kenneth quickly said. “Your mother just sprung all of that on me, I was in the wrong for not just talking to you and being spineless. You didn’t deserve that.”

  “So I can ask questions again?”

  “As many as you want. Hopefully I can answer them all,” He chuckled as he watched her scales darken slightly. “I’m glad there’s no bad blood between us.”

  “There could never be…”

  Well, the first band-aid was off, now for the second.

  “Listen, there's actually something more I want to talk to you about as well,” Kenneth began, still feeling a little tense. “You see, it’s about--"

  “You want the work on the book to continue,” Nokoovo guessed. “Between my duties, learning, and sleep, I have some time I can devote to drawing the pictures and writing down.”

  “I guess that was a predictable question, but I can’t have you burn the candle at both ends, your drawings are fantastic and incredible,” Kenneth paused, maybe putting it on too thick, even though he meant it. “But--"

  “I see, you want to continue with another,” Nokoovo figured out, her expression unreadable and tone unshaken.

  “I just think it’s too much work for only the two of us; bringing in another would help lessen the load.”

  “Yes, it is wise,” She said, never once looking away from him. “Then I recommend Nokhavadoo… his calligraphy skills are impressive, for one not taught like me, I doubt you will find anyone better around here.”

  “I hope you are okay with this,” Kenneth asked sincerely. “We began all of this together, so I hope you don’t take it as me pushing you out or to the side.”

  “I don’t want to be the reason you can’t keep working. I’ll stand aside for that,” Nokoovo told him, though she looked a bit hesitant.

  It did not go unnoticed. “Please don’t think of it as you stepping aside, we are only getting someone who joins in on a project near the end, and still gets to put their name on all the work.”

  He tried to make it humorous, but she didn’t laugh.

  “Your time is valuable and I’m already taking up so much,” He said warmly in the back of his mind, hoping he hadn’t made her a workaholic helping him with all of this.

  “I… I like spending my time with you, it’s… it’s,” The words were getting stuck in her throat as she tried to say something, for the first time looking away from Kenneth, but only for a moment before looking more intently into his eyes. “I like talking to you; otherwise, I would be silent. That is why… I want you to know I would never want to come between you and your life partner. But if you want, I… I could be your mistress.”

  Kenneth felt himself freeze as the words left her mouth. “Listen--”

  “I shouldn’t have asked, I’m sorry, please could you forget I said it,” Nokoovo quickly and a little desperately said, somehow becoming even whiter.

  “ It’s flattering and probably a lot of old scumbags' dreams to be offered something like that, but I’m almost twice your age,” Kenneth said. “Don’t you want someone around your own age, someone you can connect to?”

  “Who?” She almost chuckled.

  Kenneth glanced around the room for a second, looking at Nokset, who very much enjoyed watching all up until that point at which he turned pale white and silently gestured, ‘Oh please god no!’ With speed that would put the world champion in sign language to shame, before bolting out of the room the moment Nokoovo turned to look at him.

  “Who indeed,” she sighed. “Everyone is like that around me, all except you.”

  “Oh, please, maybe people haven’t seen the real you.”

  “The real me,” She looked at her ivory hand, for some time, enough time for Kolu and Nokstella to come and check, with her running up to Nokoovo.

  “You sad?” She asked.

  Her bluntness caught her off guard, “No, I…”

  “Be happy, hatching, Noktato, music, playing,” Nokstella excitedly said.

  “Well, I guess you have two people who see the real you,” Kenneth said with a smile. “She's looking forward to tonight. Why don’t you join us? I could use someone who explains things a little more clearly.”

  He thought of Split.

  “I… I… will think about it.”

  As the day turned to evening, everyone got ready for the tradition or festival, whatever it was called. Of course, Split, being as uncompromising as ever, handed him over to Muity, Clingy, Squeezy, and Bitie, despite the fact that she was more than welcome to join him. Her only response was that she had plans.

  It was probably something to do with Noksafgro; maybe it was part of the tradition to be with family, or she simply didn’t want to be near Nokoovo, despite having seen more of her than most. It would be something to see everyone else’s reaction, but she was such a sweet girl when you got past the odd parts that Kenneth had witnessed himself.

  Escorted down below, the street brimming with people, eggshells with crystals inside glowing all around them, with some celebrating already, people playing games, some more child-friendly than others, those being what was essentially a fight club, but even so, children did take part, but it was clearly all in fun, no bruises or broken bones.

  Aside from that, many people were gathered in a circle around certain people who held and played music with drums, a three-stringed guitar, and a number of other instruments. Kenneth couldn’t even begin to figure out what they were meant to be, and even barbershop quartets.

  The hum of every imaginable rhythm and harmony filled the air, stimulating everyone’s sense of hearing, while the widespread aroma of meat took care of wetting the appetite.

  ‘Nokandrite had had me in the pot for a bit longer than usual. Probably the reason why.’

  “Now, no running again,” Nokemera said in a commanding tone. “We won’t have our scales peeled.”

  The two others nodded in agreement while Nokamber rolled her eyes. “If I remember correctly, it was all of you who left and had me watch him.”

  “Oh, from what I hear, you are as guilty as we and got to have all the fun, but none of the peeling! Do you know how much an early shedding itches when you can only bathe in sand!”

  “That cream I gave you helped, didn’t it?” Kenneth interjected. “Now, why don’t you all pipe down and let them enjoy?”

  Nokstella could barely contain herself, looking around wide-eyed, her scales the darkest he’d seen hers. She ran around not even noticing how far she was getting from Kenneth, luckily Kolu was there holding her hand and getting dragged along, at least keeping the rains on her a little, but even he couldn’t have his mind focused with the smell in the air and the music playing, dispite the fact he was wandering among giants, scared and intrigued at the same time.

  ‘As long as I can see them, it’s fine,’ Kenneth thought, but he couldn’t help but notice, at least among the older crowd, there were some odd looks.

  “It should be starting soon,” Nokamber said, looking toward the center, where most were beginning to conjugate.

  Kenneth had noticed this barren area a few times before, but he had imagined it to be a fighting ring in the shape of a triangle, not a stage for a play with Nokuji in the center.

  Slowly, everyone began to quiet down, only the faintest sounds of music in the distance audible as Nokuji spoke.

  “Upon her hatching, we celebrate. Upon her life we celebrate, the greatest and first champion. Upon her death, we mourn with smiles. All we have lost, their names we remember, as they evoke grief, but remember not only their death, but their life as well, celebrate it, celebrate life itself, for every new child that has hatched, for every new parent that has been chosen, for the lives that everyone, warrior, father, and mother! Celebrate the joy they bring or have brought and cherish the sorrow they bring us, for it is that which proves the bond of love between each and every one of us!”

  It was unexpected, but her words actually struck a chord with Kenneth.

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  “Let us celebrate them, everyone, and let us not forget for whom we owe the tradition, the first champion Noktato, and her piercing spear! Let us remember her life as everyone else’s!”

  Suddenly, people went up on stage, a woman fully nude except for a mask, and two carrying what looked like a giant egg.

  “We know not from whom the great champion was laid, we only know of her mother, Nokyhola! A woman of common birth who Lorizo deemed fit to be her mother!”

  The giant egg began to hatch as a child came out looking a little older than Nokstella.

  “From the onset, Noktato was endowed with great physic, crawling in the sand for only a few moments before standing up and choosing her mother, leading her out of the nest! In the summers to follow, she would stand up to any challenger, winning easily!”

  The play ramped up following Nokuji’s words, very precisely showing the exact seconds with new actors in very short sequences.

  “None could stand to her, and despite her commoner standing, rose to be the strongest fighter in the army, but tragedy would strike when away from her mother, vile heretics attacked her home, killing without mercy!”

  The part of Aki and or Sil was played by children, who chased around adults.

  “In her grief, she buried her mother as well as all the other victims, or what remained, but despite her sorrow at losing everyone she loved, she did not despair, but celebrated the life they had lived, an act that would become the tradition of which we celebrate still! It was for these reasons, her strength and love, that she was granted the power from the gods to not only be theirs but our champion! She was given visions of a horrible future of what was to happen and warned the foolish noblewomen and men, and royals of the past, who all believed her a fool until it was too late and the heretic Weakies attacked in devastating force!”

  ‘This story sounds… familiar.’

  Many were killed among them, the king and royals, but Noktato would not let it be our end, and in our darkest moment, rallied the people in a counterattack, sending the frail Weakies running with their tail between their legs!”

  Most laughed with a few clapping.

  “But she knew it not to be over, and led the people, helping them rebuild, and when the time came, led the charge to defend us once more against the vile gods' monstrous creation, the weakie champion!”

  “Fast as the wind, soldiers were carved open on the ground of the ‘Flatlands’!”

  The blood was just red confetti of sorts.

  “With the vile black blade, no man or woman stood a chance until Noktato engaged in single combat!”

  “I Noktato champion of the Nok Will not stand for these injustices, vile heretic!” The actor playing Noktato yelled.

  “I will watch you… Your blood runs!” The actor playing Akina said, a child.

  They engaged in battle, which was little more than the adult stabbing slowly with the spear and the child running around on stage, slashing her all over, eventually having Noktato fall on her knee.

  “As it is recorded, Noktato battled fiercely, but even though Weakies only die with a single good attack, it matters little if she could not hit, but the battle was not over yet, for this faint weakness was part of her plan.”

  “Surrender and you may live to see your people’s e… eradi… eradimation,” the child said, probably meaning eradication.

  “I will never surrender!”

  The child playing Akina ran forward, and then suddenly Noktato stabbed with her spear, or more so, poked the child’s shield, piercing it.

  “What this foolish Weakie Champion did not know was that not only had Noktato been granted the powers of a champion, but her spear, too! It never dulled, or broke, and would always cleanly pierce metal, stone, flesh, and bone!”

  Noktato held up her spear in victory as Akina lay dead on the ground, the child scratching their snout before suddenly remembering they should be dead.

  “But tragedy would not be avoided!”

  An arrow suddenly hit Noktato, killing her.

  “The cowardly bow attacked at Noktato’s weakest, but despite this, the army would not despair; they fought hard and defended their home, reaching a stalemate and carrying Noktato home on her shield. She was embraced by Amito. All would cry. All would celebrate. From her own death, this tradition was spawned in eternal celebration of her life, sacrifice, and death.”

  In the moments to follow, deafening silence filled the air, done so out of obvious respect.

  Of course, Kenneth wouldn't break this tradition, but he wouldn’t be heard thinking. ‘So that is their story. I remember Nya telling me it was the other way around, they were attacked, Akina wasn't listened to, and she won the battle only to be killed. Such few changes, I wonder what really happened.’

  As moments passed, sound slowly but surely began to return, and some from the crowd began to break off, wandering out into the underground village.

  “So, did you like the performance?” Kenneth asked.

  “Yes! Yes!” Nokstella eagerly said.

  Kolu, however, didn’t share the same level of excitement: “I didn’t know what was happening.”

  “Just a simple story,” Kenneth replied, as he clearly heard the sound of six stomachs growling. “Why don’t we get something to eat?”

  On that, everyone could agree.

  While many aspects of Nok culture were alien, outlandishly strange, and downright insane, what wasn't any different was how slow and long the waiting in line was.

  Kenneth had opted to stand behind his four cuddle companions to see how it was done, taking food from a vendor, but somehow that ended with him being in the middle, and not quite having a good view.

  Despite how orderly Nok generally were, it was still loud and moving very fast until he realized he was at the front of the line.

  “What will it be?” Nokandrite gruffly said, holding a butcher's knife.

  ‘Oh great, of all places, I walk in line to her stand,’ Kenneth thought as he mentally slapped his forehead. “Umm… just something to eat for the three of us.”

  She turned around with the butcher's knife and carved open one of the carcasses behind her, reaching inside and pulling out some liver and intestines.

  “For the girl and for the heretic,” she had Nokstella the liver and threw the string of intestines to Kolu, which he caught while it still slapped him in the face.

  “Very nice, but I can’t help but see you aren’t moving, and getting me some,” he said.

  Despite the fact that he didn’t very much like it, it was edible and cooked decently.

  She crossed her arms, “For you, you pay, or get out of line.”

  “And why do I, as the only one, have to pay?” He questioned her look of anger, telling him all he needed to know. “This is about the time I tried to play matchmaker with you, and the other cook isn’t it?”

  Her scales grew lighter while her right eye twitched in anger, and her grip on her butcher's knife grew firmer. While the knife wouldn't penetrate his clothes or mask, he wasn’t so sure he’d survive a single blow even if she did hold back.

  However, death by blunt-force-meat-cleaver was not to be his death, as a pair of triangular copper coins was placed on the counter in front of Nokandrite.

  “I think this is enough,” a young man in loose and slightly ragged, yet clean leather attire, who looked familiar to Kenneth.

  Nokandrite mumbled something or other before decapitating the carcass and taking the coins.

  “…thanks,” Kenneth said, taking the head and walking away with the guy. “Thanks, she really doesn’t like me, and don't worry, I’ll pay you back, just come find me tomorrow.”

  While talking, the young man swallowed his food in one go. “Don’t think about it, I was paying you back.”

  “Oh, thanks, but I don’t take payment for healing people,” Kenneth told him, a slight bit relieved he wasn’t demanding other forms of compensation. He wasn’t sure how much he could skrit around the spectrum before he could be considered a full-blown prostetude.

  “We haven't, I only met you when doing that poison, medicine thing. I’m Nokhakkie, and I saw you in trouble with that big zillo, and wanted to help as thanks for healing my mom; her problem was really getting annoying to deal with,” he explained.

  “Oh, don’t mention it,” he replied, not even pretending to know who he was talking about, but finally remembering him as that board-looking man from the medical trials.

  “She has said a lot about you,” Nokhakkie smiled. “Come join her and the rest, unless you have somewhere else to be?”

  “Lead the way,” Kenneth gestured, before the four behind him even had a chance to speak.

  It wasn’t a very far walk to their destination in clear sight past the meandering people. A large group consisting mostly of children, teens, a few young adults, and, of course, the adults.

  “Ma, look who I brought back,” Nokhakkie loudly announced.

  The children barely noticed, too preoccupied with playing, chasing, or fighting, but the older ones were quick to turn their heads as Nokhaakie’s mother became pretty obvious as she walked over and greeted Kenneth with a strong hug, lifting him off the ground. “What a surprise.”

  “Hey… Nokkrik, you are killing me again,” he said, a bit strained.

  “Oh no, oh no, not again,” she said, panicky, letting him go. “Did I hurt you?”

  “Oh, I’ve survived worse,” Kenneth waved it off in good spirits. “So Nokhakkie’s your son.”

  “Yes, he’s family, along with everyone else,” she gestured to the crowd of no less than thirty people, in which her lifpartner and Nokguvo were among them.

  “Forgive me for asking, but did you not have only ten or so children?”

  “Yes, Nokhakkie, Nokhubo, Nokweelf, Nokijuho, Nokploos, Nokartso, Noklibreela, Nokefftjo, Nokfrofro, Nokiaimand,” Nokkrik introduced, pointing to each one without pause. “Of course, there are also their cousins Nokallilla…”

  Kenneth could barely follow the first ten; the rest were pretty much a blur of names and the odd gesture to make clear who was being addressed, at this point, white noise making him hungry.

  Once upon a time, the idea of chowing down on a severed animal head would have been mostly repulsive, but now he did it without thinking, knawing at the flesh and ripping of a decent chunk, with the only realization that brought him being that he’d spent too much time around blood-thirsty predators, who just about finished naming her entire family off the top of her head.

  “And my fourth on my mother’s side, Noknabta.”

  “That’s a big family, unlike some others like the commander, Nokuji,” Kenneth commented.

  “Few royal families have more than five children,” Nokkrick said with a gleeful tone. “But let’s not talk about that, come join us.”

  She quickly got a few children to scoot to the side so Kenneth, Kolu, and his entourage could join with Nokstella sitting on his lap while he placed the severed head by his feet for a snack later.

  All eyes gathered on Kenneth as an awkward silence filled the air.

  After a short while, Nokkrik's expression changed as she asked, “Do you want to start?”

  “Start, in what way?” Kenneth asked. “I don’t really know a lot about this tradition or what I’m supposed to do.”

  “Let me tell ya we—“

  “We share stories, most of warriors, death, and whatnot, along with playing music, those that can,” Nokhakkie interrupted.

  “Oh, but I don’t really know if I have any stories to tell.”

  “Didn’t think so,” Nokemera interjected. “Look at you, small, soft, and slick. I bet your people ain't got warrior.”

  “Papa fight!” Nokstella piped up in defence of Kenneth. “He save kind lady, and me, and beat scary la--”

  He quickly yet carefully closed his hand around her snout, telling her, “Now, now, Nokstella, that isn’t something you should be telling them about, you don’t know the full story of it.”

  His voice might have been calm, but he had broken into a cold sweat, especially if everyone were to find out he beat Nokshala into unconsciousness. He truly doubted that would make him popular, but his reluctance not to let Nokstella speak only fueled everyone's curiosity.

  Hopefully, speaking now might quell it. “It is true what Nokemera is saying, I’m no warrior, more so because I detest violence, but that does not mean I don’t fight. I do only against an enemy that is persistent, that kills, royal, warriors, and the common alike. Decease. As some of you may have heard, I’ve recently discovered penicillin, and with that discovery I’ve dealt a good blow, but the fight is far from over.”

  It might have been a bit out of nowhere, but at least more people paid attention to him, now.

  “Why’d ya stop her?” Nokguvo questioned, only a second ahead of most others.

  ‘It was a long shot, time to lie with the truth.’

  “Well… if you must know, let’s just say telling, I guess he was a royal, that his gold was tattered, didn't exactly have a great outcome,” Kenneth said, emphasizing the last word, hoping all of them would just believe something terrible happened to him, which kinda happened, and just leave it at that.

  “How about I start and show you,” Nokkrik offered warmly before anyone else could speak.

  ‘Thank god for the sweet woman.’

  She was kind of a matriarchal figure among her family, evident as when she cleared her throat, everyone paid attention to her and quieted down, except for the music. “Back long before we had walls, the nest and every egg was protected from the wild beasts, and the like, but none were as frightening as the black beast of old, the Egg Eater.”

  He could already see a few children in the crowd looking a little paler at the mention.

  “It had two tall legs like a tree, and a neck like a Uzisnapper and a…”

  She paused for a moment and glanced at Kenenth.

  “And a sharp mouth. The Egg Eater was fierce as all Black Beast of old, but unlike others, this monster was cunning and patient, stalking our nests and waiting for guards to grow tired or look the other way before making its move, entering the nest, and digging under the sand, swallowing each egg its greedy mouth could get.”

  Like most stories, they were probably a cautionary tale, about not slacking on one's duties and always being vigilant, but the way the children, the youngest of them, looked, it might as well have been a horror story, the music playing reflecting that, with Nokstella holding Kenneth tightly while he ensured her, she was fine, Kolu even placing a comfortering hand on her snout.

  “When finally noticed, the Egg Eater would run, for its cunning, and patience was not its only strength. With its long legs, it could outrun any woman or man, but this Egg Eater had made a mistake coming to this nest, as it was guarded by fast-foot Nokto, the fastest runner and swimmer. Chasing it down, Nokto fought it to the ground and tore off its head and ripped it open, to save each and every egg, and took its hide as a prize.”

  The children cheered as the music grew joyful, with Kenneth internally remarking, ‘Hmm… wonder if Nokto was a woodsman?’

  “You see, that’s how we tell stories,” Nokkrik said to Kenneth, looking at him with a smile.

  “So is it supposed to be stories about heroes or something?” Kenneth mumbled as he maulled it over in his head. “Well, I do suppose I know histories of people, like the white death, a man named Simo who stood against an entire army, and managed to stop and I believe even repel them, then there was the warrior monk Benkei, a loyal retainer of Lord Yoshitsune who, in defending his master, fought to the death, and died standing upright on his feet.”

  “My kind of stories, of warriors, go ahead and tell them,” Nokemera demanded boredly.

  “I just did,” Kenneth replied.

  “Were they family of yours?” Nokoojab asked.

  “Of course not.”

  “Then shouldn’t you call them Kensimo, and Kenbenkei?” Nokamber said in confusion.

  “Wait, don’t tell me you all thought my name is Neth,” Kenneth exclaimed in surprise. “Yeah, where I come from, we don’t use prefixes like Nok, with me and my kind, mostly it’s just our names.”

  “That aside,” Nokkrik interjected. “The stories you told are good, but they should be… longer. Don’t you have any other?”

  “I got one about a boy who kept yelling there was a wolf, a beast, causing the entire village to come up in arms, only to find out it was a prank, which he did again and again until one time there really was one, but then no one believed him, and he was then eaten by the wolf.”

  Suddenly, a few turned pale, with uncomfortable expressions, most keeping their gazes low.

  ‘Okay, did not see that coming,’ Kenneth thought, surprised by such an honestly tame story, and his description of it was that scary.

  “My grandmother's favorite stories were often of the Black Beasts of old,” A familiar voice from behind said.

  Kenneth and Nokstella both looked up to see Nokoovo standing behind them, “Well, hello, good of you to come by, hope I didn't make it too hard to find me.”

  She didn’t reply; instead, she only slowly looked around.

  “Why don’t you take a seat?” Kenneth suggested, Nokstella, being proactive, trying to push Muity away.

  “…I can’t stay,” Nokoovo said, her voice deep and emotionless. “Mother expects me to be at her side. I only came by to… greet you.”

  “Well, that’s a shame,” Kenneth said, truly meaning it. “I hope you get to hear some great stories.”

  She glanced down at him for a moment and then turned around to leave.

  As she disappeared out of sight, Kenneth looked back down at Nokkrik and her family, most of whom watched vigilantly, the children who had once been playing around, now held close to their older siblings.

  “What a welcoming sight,” Kenneth commented.

  “I don’t get how ya can act so calm around her,” Nokguvo said back.

  “With the rumors I’ve heard, it doesn’t surprise me,” Nokhakkie interjected. “With all that time they are spending together, I wouldn’t be surprised if the other healer and disgrace also--"

  “They are only rumors, son,” Nokkrik interrupted in that motherly stern tone before turning to Kenneth. “I’m sorry, he likes to keep his mouth warm, but I can’t imagine what you go through each time she walks into your class and demands that you teach her.”

  “Honestly, I find you all rather rude right now,” he replied. “She didn’t force her way in, she came to me and asked, told me about herself, her past, afraid I would judge her, yes, she's different, but if you actually get to know her, you might see something you haven't before.”

  Standing up for her had left the crowd silent, and it looked like the only reason they hadn’t asked him to leave was all the goodwill he’d earned. Though he wondered if he should even stay, maybe instead go after Nokoovo, but he didn’t know if she just wanted to be alone, or if she really was telling the truth about her mother, he couldn’t be around, too vigilant eyes.

  “She was right about the Black Beasts of old,” Nokhakkie said. “They are the best stories to tell.”

  ‘Maybe it’s best just to move past this and tell some stories?’ he wondered, though it didn’t sit all that well with him. He would have to make it up to her later.

  “Don’t know if a Black bear counts as a Black Beast of old,” Kenneth quietly mumbled, before getting an idea, “However, if you want beasts of old, I got some I can tell.”

  “What?” Nokguvo asked

  “Dinosaurs.”

  Everyone, though silent, looked at each other, not a single person having the faintest clue what the word meant.

  “Well, I can tell you, but it won't be as much a story as it is history,” Kenneth began, all listening closely while the music played was uneasy, those playing not sure what to expect. “Long ago, long before even my kind existed, titanic creatures roamed the lands, seas, and even skies. At that time, it was a brutal existence, where survival of the fittest was the only law. Some survived in different ways, munching on plants and fighting off predators with spikes on their backs, horns on their heads, and even one that bashed its enemies with its skull. Yet among the predators, one species reigned: the Tairanioussours Rex.”

  “Ya said they were before ya kind, but where…” Nokguvo interrupted, and all eyes gathered on Kenneth as they watched intently. “Where are they?”

  “Dead,” He answered. “At the top of their reign, a cataclysmic event happened: a meteor, much like a shooting star in the night sky, hurled toward the earth, its size too big to be ignored, as it struck the ground. This event caused a chain reaction that set in motion fire and smoke that erupted from the ground, blocking out the skies and depriving all of light, the lack of which was not something the titans were able to survive.”

  His story was met not by a continuous eerie silence but hearty laughter.

  “Fire from the ground! Stories are a plenty, but if ya aim to give us a little scare, don’t tell a story with a child’s lie,” Nokguvo laughed.

  “If you are referring to a volcano, I can assure you such a thing does exist,” Kenneth told him. “I could tell you the history of Pompie.”

  As the laughter began to gently die down, people began to gather, curious to see what it was about.

  “What? Have you seen it?” Nokkrik questioned.

  “Not in person, but yes.”

  “She looked confused at him. “How can you have seen it but not been there?”

  He doubted they would understand what the internet was. “I was a very long way from it, but saw what I needed.”

  “Next, you will tell us, there are mountains of snow and ice, and the ancestral lights are not simply myth,” Nokhakkie said.

  “Oh, ‘shush’ son,” Nokkrick slightly hissed at him.

  “Ancestral lights?” Kenneth repeated.

  Nokhakkie pointed up.

  “Oh, the aurora borealis,” Kenneth said. “This is a good look-alike, but it doesn’t beat the real thing, I’m afraid.”

  “You have seen the ancestral light! Is it real?!” Nokkrick and a few more almost shouted.

  “Oh yes, on both questions.”

  His answer left everyone in silence, neither certain whether to believe him, or if it was just a lie he had come up with on the spot, as someone trepidatiously asked, “Where is it?”

  “Well, isn’t that a story?” Kenneth said, seeing if he could get in the spirit of the tradition with a longer story. “It was back in my youth that I, along with my family, had traveled far and wide to arrive at the North Pole. The cold bit at my face, and snow crunched under my boots with every step. As far as the eye could reach, there were barren snow fields with mountains as wide and vast as a wall and tall enough to touch the blue sky. If you were lucky, you could see a forest of sturdy trees that had survived the cold with howls of the beasts that had made it their home. Eventually, after such a track, we made it to a small village, one with homes made of wood and snow. It was then, at our arrival, that I saw it as I looked up at the starlit sky in awe, the light appeared dancing across the vast emptiness in a myriad of rainbow colors, too many to count, shifting swiftly to a rhythm, I could not hear yet saw.”

  The atmosphere was one of disbelief, astonishment, and stunned silence.

  “How can you say you don’t have stories?” Nokkrik said.

  “Well, to me they aren’t as much stories as they are facts of life, something that to me is no different than this place to you,” He explained. “I mean, this place left me in awe the first and second time I saw it.”

  “But this is nearly nothing special,” Nokhakkie said.

  “Precisely, it is normal to you, as are those things I described normal to me.”

  “So do you have another boring story to tell us, then? All of them seemed to like it,” Nokkrik gestured to the children who all looked at Kenenth with wide eyes filled with wonder, awestruck by his telling.

  “Well, since you're putting me on the spot, I think I can find another in the back of my mind,” Kenneth relented. “How about I beguile you with the story of Metal Gear Solid or… hmmm… how about, yes. Now then, let me tell you all the story of Ico.”

  Everyone listened carefully, looking uncertain of what to expect.

  “A long time ago in a land far, far away, there lived a queen who decreed that all children born with a certain affliction, horns, were to be handed over to her and imprisoned. However, a boy would not as easily surrender and escape the imprisonment, and met a girl, around his age, who had no horns, but skin as pale as moonlight.”

  Kenneth went on to describe the story in great detail, and added a little extra, mainly how, when he first discovered the sword of light, no playthrough of that PS2 gem was ever done without, and thematically it seemed fitting. Throughout the story, a couple who carried instruments had begun to play the beats in a manner that, in large part, complemented the story, with its high and low points.

  “Standing together hand in hand, the young boy and Ico plunged the sword og light into the shadow queen, ending her reign as light enveloped them. The next thing they knew, the boy stood on a beach, high cliffs on one side and the salty sea on the other, and by his feet in the sand a watermelon, one he took in hand and brought to Ico, one they shared as they watched the sun set.”

  “Fun story,” Nokstella said, a sentiment clearly shared with all other children, many of whom seemed not to be part of Nokkrik’s family, but had come to listen.

  “Was that one real? Do you have shadow monsters where you come from?” Nokhakkie said.

  “No, it was only a fantastical tale, though one I often enjoyed experiencing; I do hope it fits with the tradition.”

  Few shared warm smiles, some of the younger children laughing, as Nokkrik said, “a story of friendship, trials, life, and death. It is right as far as I care. Now, why don’t you continue? I for one want to hear more stories from you.”

  “Black Beak!” The gruff voice of Noksuza called as she approached the group with an instrument in hand. “As you wanted. A challenge and a pain, you will pay me more.”

  “I’m sure I will,” he said as he took the flute and inspected it. It wasn’t absolutely perfect, but damn near, with every detail followed to the letter of his instruction, and a little more added by the blacksmith. “Eight notches, though.”

  There was a certain playful smugness in his voice as she waved his comment off and walked away.

  “What's that supposed to be? Some other healer thing you use?” Nokhakkie questioned.

  “Not quite,” Kenneth unzipped the bottom of his mask. “But why don’t someone else tell a story, and I’ll let you know exactly what this thing is.”

  “I got one for you,” he said. “Out in the swamp, the hunter was quietly stalking her prey…”

  With a gentle exhale of air, Kenneth began playing the flute. He was certainly rusty, but his fingers were limber, and while it may have sounded like he was playing a complex melody, it was only a few fitting notes to the story, but the audience was more captivated by him, even Nokhakkie, who stopped midway.

  So too Kenneth stopped and gestured to him. And so he once more began at the urging of the crowd. It was a simple story of a hunter tracking down her prey, for the revenge of her master, succeeding, yet honoring the dead animal all the same, using every part. Of course, Kenneth played the right notes at the right time, joined by a few other players, creating quite the interesting noise.

  “Can I try it?” One of the girls playing on a drum requested, opening the floodgates for practically everyone else to do so.

  “Sorry, but unless you can do this,” he whistled a tune. “I’m afraid it will be quite difficult, even if you had five fingers.”

  More than a few faces turned sour, with Nokstella looking rather proud of her papa.

  “What do you call that thing?” Nokkrik asked.

  “A flute, an instrument from where I come from?” he answered her.

  Nokguvo slapped her leg, “Who cares what it’s called. I only care that ya play it when I tell my story.”

  He put the flute up to his lips and gestured with his head.

  She began telling her story, but if he were honest, he didn’t really listen all that much to each individually, he just got lost in the flute playing as were needed, fast, slow, strong, weak, surren, anything and everything that matched, as everyone got a chance to tell their story, laughing at some, crying at others, and most importantly being their in the moment.

  Eventually, his lack of skills drew a larger crowd of onlookers as if he were the Pied Piper, everyone wanting his melody to be played to their story.

  However, that had to wait as, despite the large crowd, the combination of stories and music had left Nokstella sleeping, and Kolu drowsy.

  He glanced to the sides and saw Muity, Bitei, Clingy, and Squeezy, all of them distracted, and so, in the middle of someone telling a story, he handed his flute to Nokhakkie, “I’m going to put these two to sleep; you can try it until I’m done.”

  He wasn’t sure if Nokhakkie heard any word that was said, over the noise, but he smiled. It was enough confirmation to Kenneth as he took both Nokstella and Kolu in his arms and left.

  Despite being everything other than inconspicuous-looking, Kenneth managed to be, probably, due to the crowd being so close together, and his being a head shorter seemed to make him so.

  As the crowd thinned, he looked back, and as far as he could see, no one was following him. He hadn’t been quite sure how he was going to get away from those four; a myriad of plans and potential ideas had floated in his head, along with sneakily drugging each of them with the dreamer. Granted, he wasn’t a master spy or anything like that, so it was a large gamble; however, luckily, he didn’t need any of that.

  Now it was only about getting away quickly, yet without raising suspicion, walking at a decent pace until he arrived at a pathway that needed to be taken.

  Opening those big, heavy doors was a challenge, especially while holding two sleeping children, but he managed to do it all the way up top and back to their dwelling, where he gently placed them both down next to each other.

  The moment he let go of Nokstella, she reached in her sleep and locked onto Kolu.

  ‘How precious,’ he thought, lingering for only a moment before leaving, carefully closing the door behind him and getting on his way. ‘Now, then let’s see if the slave master is home or not.”