by Fey Truet
“Huh?” I gasped. “Why is that?” I asked, but after recalling the details of the job it became a little more obvious.
What exactly will I be luring out? Bad people? Or something else?
“I should explain Remnants a little more in depth. They are spirits that surrender their own lives well before they’ve died. Or at least long enough that they didn’t get to live balanced lives. For this very reason, their soul-self is a starved creature. So Remnants have gotten a bad reputation as Gluttons, and though that isn’t their true nature, it’s what they are known for. Eating. Even at the expense of their own life.”
Wren paused to read something.
I stared at the book as it told me a story of pictures.
A series of pictures of a fat woman or man and a white worm gobbling down food explained what a glutton was to me. Then there were pictures of creatures both big and small eating each other. A worm-like creature eating its own tail.
“Remnants,” Wren began again, “give off a smell that isn’t filtered to magical beings. The smell is…tempting. It can be overwhelming. Your sibling familiars have some resistance to it but not completely. All other creatures are susceptible to it, so you must always be careful. Don’t go to your sibling familiars unless you are ordered to or need them to carry out your duties.
“Neither should you trust me or any of Cross’ other retainers. It is unfortunate, but we have lost Remnants because there is no one here who doesn’t disparage the thought of yet another one. All of us but Faline have taken a Remnant’s life for one reason or another. No one here will trust a Remnant because oftentimes Remnants lose themselves to their hunger.
“If you ever get to that point you are doomed, and we all know that too well. For that reason it is tempting to dispose of a Remnant flat out, only they do hold value, so we do not. With that said, the only one here you should trust is Cross. It is also why you should avoid Ever at any cost. He is known to have taken the lives of many Remnants with little to no provocation.”
I sighed.
If I was reluctant to be a “Remnant” at first, I most certainly didn’t want to be one now that I knew what an aggravation it’d be. It left a pit in my gut.
A pat on my back knocked the air from me.
“Now, now. Cheer up. You can’t go into being a Remnant with that moral. It’ll fail you for sure. You’re a survivor. I’m sure that you’ll be Cross’ most successful Remnant yet,” she cheered me, but I could still sense her half-hearted words.
I looked to ask the book another question, but a picture was forming.
I looked at Wren who was reading something else. She didn’t seem to notice any of the pictures, though I could see the words that appeared before her, whatever difference it made.
I couldn’t read them.
I made out a boy, but before the picture could finish, Wren slammed the book shut, and it disappeared. There was a jingle from my “collar,” and I saw that the book pendant had returned.
Book Of Life. Understood.
I sighed.
So, not only do I have to fear being killed by the unknown, but I have also to worry about the people I ally myself with. That and the detail that I am to become a monster. My soul will be in constant peril. Why did death sound like the better of the two fates?
Wren stood off the chaise with angry eyes and made a shooing motion.
I turned and saw several people staring at me from a doorway.
“Shoo!” she said once with such force that they all groaned and made away. “The people here are too nosy, and unless you are in your pocket, you are entitled no privacy,” Wren warned.
“Un,” I nodded.
“Okay!” she clapped her hands, bobbing her head, counting something. “So, your pocket. It’s not mandatory that you sleep there unless Cross orders you otherwise, but if you are ever severely injured and survive, you may wake up there if no one else comes to your aid. Also, time passes at a different rate in the manor, but not in your pocket, so always keep that in mind. And your pocket links to wherever Cross will have you stationed, so if you ever need to get to your pocket, you need to locate your door. I believe yours is the Moon Tree? But your pocket is the safest place in the world.
“Oh, and before I forget to mention it, as long as you are in the manor or your pocket you may remain human for any amount of time you like.”
“Okay,” I answered a bit numb. “How do I get there. From here”
My room had no doors. I’m still not sure how I got here.
She laughed.
“Oh. A door appears at need or will to wherever you need to go. If one doesn’t appear, that’s reluctance on your part. Sometimes a door will appear at magic’s whim, so beware of those. More often than not, they turn out to be wormholes that spit you out anywhere…on a whim. Now about the ambrosia you ate.”
“What’s ambrosia?” I asked her.
I’ve been meaning to do so for some time.
She took a deep breath.
“It is the food of the soul. It comes from the Tree of Life, or pure energy, or even the soul of another living being. There are many different grades of it. Nevertheless. It is what will manifest your soul-self, so I want you to rest and be prepared for a long night. I’ll stop talking your ear off and let you return to your pocket now.”
Wren grabbed my arm and pulled me up. Then she pushed me to a door.
“If you need anything at all just call. I’ll hear you.”
She opened the door and the room I was in earlier appeared before us, just as she pushed me in. I looked at the bed and saw the words inscribed in the center of all those beautiful engravings on the boxed frame of the bed.
“Ah! Wren! What does that word say?” I hurried and asked.
She looked at me and then the bed. “Hm? Oh! That word is Remnant. What you are.”
I turned and stared at the beautiful engravement.
Remnant. What I am?
“The entire vine reads, ‘A small piece of what it is left,’ the flowers are written to say, ‘A big part of what is Life. Our tale to this day. Our Tale. Our Remnant Tails,’ the leaves kindly spell.
“Hmm. It seems the Tree of Life is fond of you Tails Tales. Emare. If that doesn’t bring you hope, then I don’t know what will. Good luck, and good night, Remnant Tails.”
With that, she closed the door.
A New Tale Begins
“You are all he has. And… If a creature so loathsome shall appear before either of you in the form of man. Eyes of crystal and a mass of no weight… Then spurn them and refuse them any grant or disdain, for they are soul eaters and will wind your greatest passions against you, for they are demons. Promise me, Emare. That no matter how hard it becomes, that you will persevere for your brother’s sake. Oh, promise me, Emare!”
I could no longer bear to see my mother suffer. Tears poured down my face, and in the other room, I could hear Pohlin coughing. “I promise, Mother. I’ll persevere. I’ll take care of Pohlin. I promise.”
Mother smiled and let her head fall back on her pillow.
“Liar,” she barked cruelly, then began a harsh cackle that froze my knees to the floor. “Liar!” she shouted, and in a sharp movement, she turned to me, her face contorted in anger and malice.
“You’re an ungrateful little LIAR, deceiving your mother at her deathbed!”
It was wretched to hear. My tears burned with a different kind of sorrow now.
“I’m not lying! I’m not! Didn’t I keep our promise! I did my best! I did everything in my power! Look at me, Mother. I’ve given my entire life to Pohlin!”
I somehow warped from a little girl to my former self, now terrified she’d see the white in my hair and the green of my eye.
All I saw was pure hatred in her eyes.
“I see you, and you are not my daughter, Demon! I spurn you, Demon! Go!” she yelled.
“I am your daughter!” I pleaded, but I heard a roar instead.
I turned to the kettle and
caught sight of my reflection and screamed at my solid red eyes and deathly gray skin! I turned back to my mother, but it was no longer her in the bed, but Pohlin, older and covered in his own blood.
Staring at us was a young man with yellow crystal eyes.
Eyes that bore into my wicked soul.
~~~
I jumped up and looked around, catching all the blue bulbs on the ceiling.
I was breathing harder than normal as my heart exploded in my chest.
I stared at all the bulbs for a long moment before I realized they were all lit.
I sighed and laid my head back down and closed my eyes.
Strange, I thought.
They weren’t lit before.
My back felt tight so I shook my shoulders a bit. It was no help, and the fact that the wooly blanket was hot and in my face bothered me. I tried to kick it off to no avail, and my arms weren’t cooperating so I ignored it.
I groaned, but it sounded weird.
I opened my eyes and peeked around the strange room. My room. It’s just that if it were my room, I’d prefer it not to have all these books I couldn’t read.
If beggars could be choose—
“Hmm?” I wondered as I inspected the door.
I didn’t ask for a door so it shouldn’t be here.
Cocking my head, I scrutinized the small door.
It was so abnormal. It didn’t have any opening mechanisms and hung on horizontal hinges. It was also tiny. I’m sure I wouldn’t be able to get anything past my neck through it.
I especially didn’t ask for that door.
I stood up, the sensation of that act weird.
My skin felt looser and heavier, and the urge to shake was overwhelming.
I tried to pull myself out of the bed and ended up falling.
What?
I looked down and stared at lots of hair and tiny light paws.
Looking for my hands, I lifted one of the paws instead. Then the other. Again and again.
It just didn’t… make any… sense… to me.
I sat down trying to figure this out.
I looked behind me and saw more hair, the blue tint of the light gleaming off the dark brown. I stood up again, and looked between the two paws, and saw two more light paws and another two things behind them, but that wasn’t all I saw.
Dangling in front of my nose was my book pendant, the word “Emare” twinkling in the blue light. It was around my neck on the collar. The tether.
I stared at it for a moment.
Oh. My…
“Ah!” I screamed, but it came out the atrocious yowl of some trampled upon cat.
I tried to run but it like using all my limbs at once or not at all. I didn’t get anywhere either way. I flailed around desperately, then there was nothing. And like a rock, I fell hard without sense on my belly. A long tail split in two flopped over my head.
This isn’t happening!
I groaned a high pitch sound.
Unfortunately, it was.
I huffed out a sigh.
What’s happening?!
I decided not to move. Moving was bad. This wasn’t my body. Moving it wasn’t a good idea.
Not until I figured this out.
I moved one arm and pushed up on it, then another, and then I did one leg, and then another. All these… legs stood unsteadily under the weight of this body. It was a lot easier when I wasn’t aware of what I was doing.
I was standing. I trembled with the effort, but it was still a great endeavor.
It made this creature’s tail—or is that tails—wag.
I dared look back and saw one tail that split into two a little ways down. Just before the split, a shiny green jewel gleamed in the blue light.
I stared at it, unable to look away, forgetting the tricky fix I was in. I lost my balance and fell.
I took the time and got back up with more familiarity. When standing wasn’t too much of a task anymore I decided to work on moving.
I took a step with the front paw and made a gleeful sound when I didn’t fall. When my paw stopped quivering I took another with my other front paw. I was on a roll. Or not. I was stuck.
Left leg or right leg! Left or right! Right!
I lifted my right leg, tottering to that side before falling.
Grrr! I growled.
I tried again.
A hundred more times.
After I learned to balance my legs and tail, I lost all coordination. I’d move two or more legs at the same time and stumble over. Scarlet and other animals made four legs look easy. It was a learned practice.
I finally got it when I paced myself.
Move two legs at once, one front and one back on opposite sides, but not quite at the exact same time. There needed to be the slightest lapse from when I moved the front leg to when the back leg lifted. And then the same lapse from before my back leg hit the ground to when I lifted my other front leg to my other back leg to my starting leg again and again.
A task. A skill. An art.
I mastered it!
I cheered falling over, but I did not care all that much now.
I mastered it! Sort of.
And though I had gotten the use of walking in this new body, I still felt a strong urge to rise up on my two back legs and walk. A great source of pain.
There was no clock in my room, so I don’t know how much time went into learning such a trivial thing but I know that it had to be a few hours that had gone by so quickly.
Time flies.
And yet, the small little door was still there patiently waiting for me to learn how to walk through it.
I knew I shouldn’t. Hadn’t Wren warned me about the whims of magic or other? That I could end up warped somewhere?
It was just curiosity. It got the better of me.
I went to the door and used a paw to tap it, flailing as a four legged creature does when it loses its balance. The door swung there.
I stared at it for a moment, then went through.
It wasn’t a warp hole. Just a tunnel that I—
I took a step I figured to be solid into the open air and got sucked into an unexpected hole.
I slid down a crazy slide that blew my mind in the scariest way possible.
The slide would go down at a sharp angle and then would make sharp turns that jerked my head and tail—s. Then unexpectedly, I’d go up or be upside down, and at one point I was just spinning until I gradually began spiraling out then inward again. Then I was slid down until I hit another swinging door and rolled onto a hard cement floor.
I’m going to be sick, I thought, not even bothering to get up, lest I anger this upset tummy.
“Don’t even bother being sick in here. Better yet, go in Phillip’s corner. That neat freak needs a wakeup call.”
I looked up at Sere’s voice. He pointed to a corner in the harshly lit pall. All I saw from down here was counter after counter too high up to see over. I turned to the corner and found a makeshift bed of two jackets and a huge bearded man sleeping on it.
Phillip?
“How did you ever guess?”
Sere spared me a glance then picked up a pretty red soda in a cylinder. He added another clear liquid to the soda and whispered some form of gibberish. The soda began to glow and he set both cylinders back down.
“So that’s the form of your soul-self. Unrecorded. I’ve never seen anything so… cute. Phenomenal.”
I tried to stand but the world was still spinning. My legs wobbled and I tottered. I wasn’t certain if it was my head was spinning or if the ground was unstable. Now I knew what sailors meant when they spoke of “sea legs.”
I wonder why the door brought me here.
Sere hadn’t been mean, but I was sure he couldn’t be bothered with the likes of me. Especially if he was working.
“I figure the door brought you here because I was just thinking about you and it coincided with something you have to do. It’s an unusual phenomenon that occurs in magical residence
s,” Sere answered, though I hadn’t asked him a question. Or spoken for that matter.
I couldn’t in this form. Only think.
Could he possibly hear my thoughts?
“Yes. It’s a form of telepathy familiars use us ‘Exceptionals’ can hear. As a warning, you should filter your thoughts or else all your dirty laundry will be aired. Once we hear them we can’t unhear them. That’s even when you’re in other forms.”
What?! I felt flustered beneath all this fur. But. But. But. But that’s—
“Not an invasion of privacy so much as you thinking out loud. That’s just your life. Just be glad you figured out through me and not in the awfully embarrassing way the others have. You’d be flabbergasted what people’d think at you when they can’t speak and are sure you can’t hear them. I suppose the only privacy you’d have is when you are in your pocket or surrounded by clusters. What be’s,” he said, causing a hissing sound somewhere on the counter.
My nose twisted, picking up a smell and, “Eeee!” I squealed at the pain that soon followed.
I heard another scream and a thump but didn’t look. I covered my nose.
Oh, ugh! That smell. It burns. It’s awful.
“Ah. Sorry about that. You do this so long and your nose goes blind to it. Vastly disturbing isn’t it. I do remember that? Kztvrcha,” he whispered.
Next, he waved his arm over something and smiled. “How’s that?”
I didn’t dare remove my paw from my nose.
What’re you doing? Are you an apothecary?
Sere snorted. “Don’t compare me to a druggist. I’m an alchemist adept in the erudite ways of the knome. Though I am working on the disheartening task of curing the Remnant. But don’t compare me to something as trivial as those choppers!”
Uh, sorry, I told him, slowly removing my paw from my nose.
I looked over and saw a really big guy getting up grumpily, then falling back into his heap asleep.
Hmm. I turned back to Sere. Is that why you were thinking about me?
I got up, and not being able to stand not seeing what he was doing, I walked over and stood on two hind legs while leaning on a cabinet door.