A question often asked, and heavily debated among the wisest and most foolish, is simple: which came first?

  The egg or the Nok that laid it.

  It is said in theology that the first gods were all hatched from eggs laid by Amito, the very earth we live on, and were so enormous that they were given another name, moons.

  They must have broken free with ease, spreading their shells across the skies, yet not Di.

  Many have awaited the fabled sixth gods hatching for centuries now, yet, each year, questions born of doubt are asked: is this moon even a moon, is the shell too hard, or is the god inside it dead?

  But to proclaim a god dead, heresy, the only true answer would be that Di is not ready yet.

  Or maybe Di prefers to be in the egg and stays by choice.

  …

  I don’t remember what moved me, what made me break free, only that I did. I banged, I smacked, I pushed, and eventually, I broke out.

  Where Di undoubtedly would meet the cold sky, I was met with warmth, yet I knew somehow, I could not stay, and with my arms and legs, I kicked until there was light.

  Where I was, I did not know; all I knew was that it was barren, it was tall, and it was cold, and so I cried, yet my voice was so weak that it could not be heard, and so I stopped.

  And something changed within me, driving me forward, an instinct that I was looking for something, but I didn’t know what, as I crawled my tail dragging along, wandering until I no longer could, tired and needing rest.

  I would do this so often, tracking across these endless plains, as pain unfamiliar stabbed inside me.

  A life such as mine, I knew nothing, and that was to be it, but as my eyes began to close, I saw a form atop a mountain.

  Was this what I had been looking for, the thing I did not know?

  Forgetting the pain, I rushed up the mountain, but halfway up, I stopped ascending, the ground, moving down to keep me where I was, but for it to do so, it took from the top, and without anything under the form, it slid down, knocking me to the bottom.

  Yet I did not care, as I felt something new, curiosity, sniffing the from, the smell good.

  I notched it a couple of times with my snout, but it didn’t move, not like I did. It was confusing. Why wouldn’t it move? Would it not move for me?

  This feeling was new, but preferred to what soon returned, the stabbing pain from inside.

  But with the form here, without realizing it, I had opened my mouth and bit down on it, rolling with my entire body. Was this something I invented, or had always known, I couldn’t know, as so much else; however, what I discovered was something new, food, it went inside me, and the pain I had felt was gone.

  It was amazing, indescribable, something I indulged myself in, gaining the strength I once had to traverse these lands and make it to its highest peak, only for me to discover that it was only a pebble among boulders, and from the top, I saw many other colorful forms.

  Most of them moved across the lands, some did not, others fought, to have the prize I had come across so easily, some becoming prizes themselves.

  In that moment, I felt more than curiosity and pain combined, perhaps something new, I did not understand yet; however, one thing I knew was that I would not be eaten.

  At the foot of the pebble mountain, I dug myself in and waited for one form or another to wander across, covered and unseen. Yet so few would become prizes, food, and mixed with the stabbing pain, a new feeling emerged, frustration.

  It forced me to change, to attack lone forms, while the new feeling I eventually called fear made certain I stayed hidden from those who stayed together.

  Yet the fear of those who stuck together paled in comparison to the colossus, a creature I dared not even glimpse with my eyes, its very steps shaking the ground and changing the terrain.

  It was never around much, but I would wonder what it was each time it left, what it looked like. Only the fear it inspired within me overpowered my curiosity, and I would only feel safe when I dug myself deeper down until it left.

  That was life, my life, the only one I knew, one of patience, silence, and survival.

  However, it was not to last as on a faithful time, the terror that shook the ground came ever closer, and with ease dug away what took me so much strength to do until I felt my tail being pulled and I along with it.

  But as I was held in the air, at the mercy of this colossus, I felt neither curiosity nor fear, but something new, warmth and joy, as I knew in that moment I had found what I had sought so long ago.

  Little by little, the form, unlike the smaller ones, began to grow firmer, less fuzzy, and more brown.

  Yet before, I could fully see; my eyes opened up.

  “It was clearer this time,” Nokoovo sighed as she rolled over, the book Kenneth had given her held tightly in her arm as she reached for the dreamer. “All gone.”

  She knew it wouldn't last, but it was only three drops at a time, and yet before she knew it, there was nothing left.

  Now and again throughout her life, she’d had formless dreams that all seemed similar yet disconnected. She had heard once upon a time that the dreamer, true to its namesake, could potentially illuminate the darkness that her mind kept hidden, but perhaps it had been too shrouded, and even after emptying the bottle, she had only learned a little.

  ‘At least now I know something, all thanks to… Kenneth…’ she sighed when thinking about his name, thinking about his soft hands on hers, and his kindness. ‘Why was I such a fool, so blinded, so proud?’

  Her work as the slave master after taking over from her grandfather, since her grandmother couldn’t be bothered to, was the only thing she did right, the only thing she took pride in.

  And… it was one of the only places she could retreat to, at least there, among the heretics and iron, there was more warmth than any she’d felt most of her life.

  The only other time she could remember was when she had been with Nokset. The memory was so clear, making her right heart warmly rise, and her left heart coldly sink.

  “It’s good,” she had said, trying to start a conversation.

  “It really… it really warms you up,” Nokset had replied.

  “…”

  “…”

  That had been her first and last attempt to try and start a conversation, as they continued to drink in silence, the alcohol, what everyone else called the warming waters, becoming easier to drink.

  Little by little, the bottle became emptier and emptier. The only sound was the water pouring into their cups.

  ‘Maybe I should head to the pen, so mother doesn't get angry again?’ She thought grimacing at the thought of her mother's stern face and angry voice.

  “By the gods above and below, you are so beautiful.”

  Nokoovo turned her head, confused as she hadn't heard anyone walk into the room.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

  However, as she looked around, she saw none, only Nokset staring at her. ‘Why is he looking at me so wide-eyely?’

  “I didn’t know… your scales…” he said, his words slurring slightly.

  ‘Me? My scales? Is something wrong with hi—‘

  Confused, it was only when she took a proper look that she noticed her scales were no longer white, but the color she was born with, the color of a warm sunset.

  ‘Why are they? Is this the alcohol’s doing?’ She questioned as Nokset kept staring at her. She didn’t know how to feel, becoming confused, and excitedly uncomfortable, but if anything, feeling strangely embarrassed, though her scales did not show it, causing her to wonder, ‘What is happening?’

  “Umm… can I ask you something?”

  “Errrrrrrrr…” She wasn’t sure how to respond; nearly no one wanted to talk to her. “Speak low-born…”

  ‘Why did I say that?! It’s true, but why did I say it?!’

  “Why does a royal want to be here learning how to heal?” Nokset asked. “Isn’t it beneath you to do work, not of the common sort, but this, what he’s having us do. You know my reason, so what’s yours?”

  “Mine…?” She replied so certain she knew the answer. ‘To learn, to understand, to no longer be curious, but why do these reasons feel… not wrong, but incomplete?’

  “I suppose, I rea… I… why do you look at me like that?” She questioned, feeling flustered.

  “Because you are beautiful. I can’t stop looking at your pretty scales and your green eyes,” he said, causing her to get flustered even more while he played with his empty cup.

  “I… I’m not beautiful.”

  He… he chuckled at her, completely at ease while within her presence, “To think such a scary woman like you would fumble with her words so easily, I wonder, why was I ever scared of you?”

  He looked at her with a predatory gaze as he slowly crawled toward her on the chairs. None but her mother and heretics had ever looked at her with such eyes. She wasn’t certain how to feel about that, and certainly not that it was a man, of all people, looking at her and coming closer.

  “Stumbed for an answer?” He asked teasingly, only one chair away from her. “Maybe… you're not worth talking to at all.”

  He turned and got on his feet, walking out of the room in a zigzag.

  ‘Why is he walking like that? Is he giving me time? Why am I still sitting down?’ Her head was filled with thoughts, a turmoil of them, yet in the moment to follow, she didn’t think as she rose from her seat with such force, the table she was sitting at was flipped, and with Nokset’s back still turned, she pounced on him, both landing on the ground.

  “I… I… did it…!” Her hearts was beating with such rapid strength, something she’d only felt once before, but never like this.

  “So, will you let me turn around, or are you really a man?” Nokset calmly asked.

  “S-sorry,” she stammered, giving him some space to.

  As they came face to face, their eyes locked, Nokset giggled, “Sorry, really? You really don’t know how to do this. I’m as rusty as a blood-soaked blade that has been forgotten, and even I know how to do this, blindfolded and deaf.”

  ‘Yes, right, that’s… that’s how it’s done,’ Nokoovo thought, remembering all that her mother had taught her about courtship and proper etiquette, however. ‘Which one is this? It’s not the full moon, and he doesn’t want me as his life partner, so is this different or…? No, I can’t waste this chance. He did the normal things, showed interest, then condescended or something alike, like rudeness, before turning around, so I could chase. I might have jumped a bit ahead, but now… now I have too…’

  Trying to be a proper woman, be dominant, something she had rarely been around her own people, she, with utter confidence and boom in her voice, roared, “I’m going to shove my tail all the way up your hole!”

  Nokset could only look with a frozen expression, uttering not a word or sound.

  ‘By the gods above and below, what did I say?’

  “Do I need to be the one on top?” Nokset asked, wiggling underneath her.

  In that instance, something inside her, an instinct, took control, as she grabbed his arms and held them above his head, pinning both down, only using one of hers, “don’t… don’t forget who you are talking to.”

  He opened his snout in a smile, asking while his tail wiggled around, grinding against the back of her legs,” And who would that be?”

  “I am a Royal, Nokoovo Dorktra, of house Obaliy!” She told him while his tail was slowly slithering upward, reaching her’s and wrapping around it. ‘Men’s tails really are so… flexible.’

  Of course, she knew they were, but feeling it stirred something within, not lust, but equally as pleasurable, that in conjunction mixed so easily, a feeling so intense, that she knew well, curiosity.

  She had sought knowledge her entire life, what was inside people, heretic and animal alike, sketching her memories, and in that pursuit, she offered up her own body, the pleasure, pain, and discovery that would entail, but now she realized, she had overlooked men.

  They were so similar to women, and yet, what she felt at that moment was so different.

  To feel his smaller body wiggling under her, as her hand glided across his clothed form, pulling the rope up to expose it all, she wanted to see, she wanted to feel, her breath becoming rapid to the extent she could no longer control it.

  A moment more before she let herself indulge at this feast, she noticed something out of the corner of her eye. It was the alcohol or what remained of it, along with the bottle gently swaying from side to side, the contents running out onto the floor.

  ‘Is this what he wanted to happen?’ She wondered in a moment of clarity. ‘He did want me to be with others, was this what he meant? But if this is what he wanted, did he do something more? I have never felt this way before, but is it the alcohol alone, or did he add enough of the sensual that we wouldn’t notice why or what we are doing?’

  At that moment, thinking of Kenneth, she found herself unable to have another thought, as she rolled to the side and let go of Nokset.

  “Wait, do you really want me to be on top?” He questioned in disbelief.

  “You asked me my reason for being here,” Nokoovo said to Nokset with the widest, most wonderful smile, their tail still intertwined as she stared up at the ceiling. “It’s curiosity, utterly and completely so.”

  “You're still in your room?” Her mother’s cold voice and disapproving tone cut through the memory like a glass dagger that shattered on impact. “Do you intend to waste more time in this darkness trying to sleep?”

  “What do you want?”

  “Rumors have been spreading since you locked yourself away in your room that I had you killed. You need to show you are alive, let some of the guards see you walking around.”

  “And where would I go?”

  “I don’t care as long as you are seen.”

  “Why…?”

  “… watch your tone, daughter,” her tone growing sterner.

  “I have nowhere else to go. My purpose ended with the trial.”

  “I warned you and you…” she snorted in a bitter tone. “I don’t know what you were intending, thinking you could be a healer and heal others. That would be beneath our name.”

  “Do you truly believe our family, grandfathers, and my methods were not enough?”

  Slowly, her mother walked into her room and over to her bed and grabbed the book from her grasp, “You don’t need something useless and ugly like this. You can’t even read it.”

  Nokoovo quickly got up and begged her mother, “Please, it was a gift.”

  “From Black Beak,” she scoffed. “I’ll do for you what you should have done and get rid of this.”

  ‘no, please…’ Her eyes widened as she sat on the bed, watching her mother turn to leave. She wanted to beg her, but what would be the point? Her voice wouldn't be heard. ‘please, mother, it's a gift, it’s important… it took so much time to make. Please, it’s a gift…’

  Her mother took a step outside the room when she suddenly stopped and looked back with a surprised and confused look at Nokoovo, who had grabbed her mother's arm, the one holding the book, yet as surprised as her mother was, she was infinitely more so.

  “What are you doing?”

  ‘What am I doing?! I-I can’t be doing this!’ Nokoovo thought in horror, unable to look her mother in the eyes, yet her grip remained firm.

  “Let go,” her mother ordered, yet Nokoovo did not move in the slightest. “You wretched spawn of mine, I was only taking it away, but now I’ll burn—“

  “Give it back!”

  Both stood there locked for a moment. Never in all her life had she disobeyed an order from her mother, nor raised her voice at her; the very thought had filled her with terror, and insurmountably, the feeling brimmed from her very core, yet somehow, she did not yield or buckle.

  “… I don't know why you care for such a useless trinket, but here take it,” Her mother did not once break the line of sight she’d established as she dropped it on the floor. In a terror-filled instance, she let go of her mother and grabbed the book, daring not to look up at those eyes that now burned so irefully. “When you walk out, don’t expect to be welcomed back any time soon.”

  From that moment on, her rebellion against her mother ended, as she walked out.

  ‘Why did I do that?’ She questioned while aimlessly wandering around the village.

  Whatever rumors there had been now certainly were erased, yet for her, it changed nothing even as the light began to fade and the air grew cold. Her stomach growled, yet she had no intention of defying her mother's orders a second time.

  ‘Where should I go now?’ She questioned, uncertain if she would be out in the cold for the foreseeable future. ‘There is certainly no one who wants to shelter me.’

  As she thought that, she wandered across Kenneth’s home, both guards standing watch outside.

  The moment they noticed her, they turned their cold gazes elsewhere, ignoring her completely; however, she would not reciprocate. “Leave.”

  It was a simple command, and whether through her station or reputation, they walked away and out of sight.

  Alone again, she sat down, leaned back against the door, and pressed her ear against it, ‘What are you all doing? Playing games? Talking? Or sleeping? What would you do if I came inside? Hate me? Ignore me? Take pity on me?’

  No matter how closely she listened or for how long, there was no answer. With a sigh, she pulled her head away and looked upward at the dazzling and shimmering sky, hoping for a sign, any sign about what she should do.

  How long she looked, she didn’t know, but only two things were certain: the air grew colder, and there was no.

  ‘No god will show me a sign?’

  She had rarely prayed in her life, not that she hadn't tried, but in the past, whenever she came to an altar, all would stop, and eventually look her way. None were barred from entering; it was one's own choice after all; however, that also meant none were barred from leaving.

  Any time she’d tried, the result would be the same: her sitting alone inside an altar, no matter which one, no matter who was inside. The few times she had managed to pray with someone else, it had been in her own altar.

  To her, it was a place of duty, pride, and cold. Yet the only place she could turn to.

  Walking down the cold corridors, her fingers running across the iron bars echoing in the empty silence until she reached the last cell, where the door had always been dutifully open.

  Inside here, she would sleep on the cold stone floor, nothing to keep her warm except the book she clutched in her arms.