Faerie Blood

Tentacles slammed the door behind herself, shutting off the drunken slurs of her father. She heard the delicately jarring sounds of breaking glass as she gripped her bag and ran across the yard. her long, dark dreads with bells threaded sporadically through them thumped and jangled against her back with the pace of her bare, sprinting feet. A sudden stitch in her side brought her to an abrupt halt a few blocks away, and as she doubled over to catch her breath she had to fight the rising bile in her throat. She could still feel the press of her father's hot, clammy hands pulling on her hips.

She set her bag on the ground and straightened herself, trying to soothe her metaphorical feathers. The slothful, spring breeze chilled her where sweat had pooled and she zipped her hooded vest against the air. Eventually she had to give up making micro-adjustments of her clothes and face the reality of her new situation and accept the events of the last hour or so. She took a breath and allowed a small part of herself to break off and do the mental breakdown for her. When the internal theatrics were over, she regrouped and refocus on figuring out her next move. She was voluntarily homeless, knew no one in the state--let alone the tiny town her family had moved to. She wanted to cry, but forced her tears back--she was not about to give her grabby father the satisfaction. Shouldering her bag, Tentacles kissed one of the handful of amulets she always wore and whispered,

"Wherever I fall is where I shall sleep, and may Benevolence over me from Trickster's keep," as she put one foot in front of the other.

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I'm not exactly sure where to start, see what I thought was the start of my story wasn't exactly accurate. In fact, according to History my story began a little over 700 years ago during Peace. All I have of my "early" memories--those that happened hours before I came here--are snapshots. Hot, sticky hands--breaking glass--the stillness with which I greeted momentary madness--there was a sleepy prayer to Benevolence and when I awoke it was to all consuming pain, panic and incomprehensible wonder. Perhaps that's where I should begin my "rebirth" into the world I should have called home all along...

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Tentacles came to with a hiss as she writhed in unimaginable pain. She became aware of the smell of rotting vegetation and promptly vomited a watery oil textured substance. Her eyes felt two sizes too big for her skull, which felt like it was being cracked open and patched over again and again. Her back felt like it was being pulled apart, her arms and legs felt much the same, made worse by the audible creaking of the bones. The depth of her pain took her breath away and culminated in an agonizing nausea. She spat out her tongue which had somehow become too long for her to contain. Suddenly there was a brief sense of weightlessness as the pain ended, but it was almost immediately followed by an all consuming itch. She squawked in alarm as she began digging her nails into every part of herself she could twist to reach. Whatever she had been writhing in had coated her in some kind of itchy film, as she pulled and rubbed it off the itching lessened. When she had finally taken enough off to lower the sensation to tolerable she paused to catch her breath and reassess. She absently pulled more of the film away as she blindly patted the ground around her, looking for her bag. When she managed to rub the film off her eyes she started screaming. Her brain locked up and for a while she sat frozen in disbelief as she stared, wide eyed at her orange, scaly body. She became aware of her breathing first. It was shaky, longer on the exhale than the inhale and really loud in her ears. She concentrated solely on correcting her respiratory pattern. Slowly her body relaxed in increments. She paused for the mental hiccoughs of hysteria to cross her mind and drift away. Tentacles got stuck at one point when she became aware that an ass muscle she hadn't known she possessed relax. Gradually she became aware that her spine now extended well beyond her torso....which would explain how awkwardly she was sitting. When she had finally calmed down she stretched her arms out in front of her and one by one revealed each digit on her hand--there were a grand total of eight. She made two fists and took a moment to process this. She looked down at the torn rags hanging off her body and frowned. Tentacles' body had always been on the rather soft side, now she could comfortable look down and see her bones poking out. Something behind and attached to her twitched and she froze again. She looked behind her and started laughing maniacally. Her fists pounded the ground as her laughter rang in her ears, reverberating amongst the surrounding trees.

"I have a tail, fantastic," she said. She felt giddy and unbalanced. She tried standing, but her center of gravity was now a lot higher than she was used to. Her legs gave out and she sat hard on her tail, the sudden pain brought her back to the present moment. She blinked back more tears as she slowly pulled her tail free from beneath her. It hurt when she tried to move it so she removed her shredded shirt and wrapped it around a twig made brace. She pulled her bag over to her and pulled out the only other change of clothes she had. She removed what was left of her shirt and jeans and put on her black wife beater and a skirt. The skirt had been half way down her thighs before, now it barely reached a quarter of the way. She thought it was really odd that she should feel so self conscious when she'd just realized she had injured her own tail and lacked pinkie fingers. Let's not forget the orange scales in place of flesh. She shoved the rags back into the bags as she let the despair and confusion wash over her. As she lowered her head, trying to fight the pouring tears she saw through the blurry veil of her vision, green strands coming from above. She tilted her head up trying to find their source. She was perturbed to realize she was looking at her dreads. They were rot green and trailed half way down her extensive back. She was unreasonably elated to find that the jingle bells were still sprinkled through them. She shook her head and smiled at the familiar sound. It was a comfort after all she'd recently seen. With her fingers she traced her face, trying to build a mental picture before she scared herself mad with the cracked mirror in the bottom of the bag. Her brow furrowed as she tried to figure out if her ears really were that long or she was just tracing the curve really slowly. Her eyes were considerably large for her elongated face and her mouth was impossibly wide, housing lots of pointy teeth. Her tongue was the same rot green as her hair, but the saliva lent it a slimy look she didn't feel comfortable gazing on for too long. The length of it scared her more than anything else. It stretched out until it was two and a half feet in front of her. As she slowly pulled her tongue back in she wondered how her short neck could house it all. She took the mirror and saw with some bemusement that her neck was considerably longer than she remembered. It looked to be a foot long in and of itself, although the angle of the mirror made her doubt the estimation.

She paused, debating whether or not to look at her face, but she had to know what others would see. She tilted the mirror up and saw her mouth, her teeth were a beacon of white light while her mouth looked like the rotted pit of a pomegranate. She decided her smile was pretty enough, if a little too murderous. She brought the mirror over so she could see her ears, they really were that ridiculously long. As she brought it back around to the front of her face two things caught hold of her panic and set it loose. She had a very Voldemort-like nose, and she had two giant black pools for eyes. She dropped the mirror and focused on breathing. For a moment she thought it wasn't going to work as the scream of panic pressed at her throat for release. When she was able to exhale through her lips without the risk of screaming she put the mirror back on her bag and crawled over to a tree, using the branches to pull herself up. Now that she could stand she could actually see the whole of the clearing, and she cursed her own stupidity. The entire clearing was ringed by mushrooms. She had spent the night in a Faerie ring. The whole of it struck her all at once and she became exhausted. As she clung to the branch she began to think very seriously about what she would do. The sun was low in the sky by the time the sounds of music and laughter broke through her reverie. As she turned toward the sound it became louder and she could smell fire though she could see neither it nor the merry makers she heard. She looked around and in the dying light found that she could see perfectly. She took a few steps and found that so long as she took great care she could walk relatively independently though she had to rest often.

As she neared what was evidently a camp she could smell alcohol and became instantly wary. It still took her a good fifteen minutes of careful walking to see a glimmer of fire. As she neared she could see that these people looked strange. Not that I have much room to talk, she thought sheepishly. She watched for a while and realized she could make out their facial features from her hiding place several yards away. They were creatures, just like she was. She smiled as she realized that that made them people, not creatures. She didn't see anything she recognized until a hoarse, rowdy voice spoke up telling the gangly guy towering over everyone to calm down. Tentacles 'aha'd to herself as she spied the Satyr. Beside her sat a supremely tranquil looking Dryad. She was so entranced watching the group that she didn't hear the rather size able snake-like woman sidle up along side her.

"Ssssee ssssomething you like?" She hissed pleasantly. With a shriek, Tentacles shot up and cracked her head on the branch above. She heard the snake laugh softly. "Why would a pretty little grey creature like yoursself hide among the shadowsss?"

"Grey?" Tentacles asked. She looked down at herself and realized that her entire color scheme had changed. She now had grey skin and white dreads. She still had her tail which comforted her. She wasn't entirely sure if she liked the fact that she took comfort in her tail...

"Are you colorblind? Of course your grey," the one eyed snake woman said. "You may call me Adness, I am the Ssstory Teller for the group you've been watching. Would you like to join usss? You look like you'll keel over sssoon." Tentacles nodded. She could feel her body trying to eat itself. As she followed behind the snake woman Tentacles realized she knew her kind.

"You're a Naga," Tentacles said in wonder.

"Not quite," the woman said looking back with a smile. "I am a Ccccyclopian Naga. We are much smaller than our Purer cousins." As she slithered into the camp, Tentacles clung to the forest shadows. Suddenly unsure about her decision. She watched as Adness approached the group and no doubt told them about her. A few pairs of eyes flicked in her direction but they didn't react. They returned to what they had been doing. She watched them for a while, making a game out of figuring out what they were.

"How's dat workin out for ya sha?" A fairly deep and slurring voice asked her. She jumped and looked over at the gangly creature she'd seen earlier. Now that he was closer she could make out the markings on his skin. His eyes were orange and his nose made her want to giggle. His hair was a flaming kind of color and seemed to have its own opinion about how it should look. He sat next to her and though she was standing the top of his head nearly reached her shoulder.

"How's what working out for me?" She asked. He sounded like the people from the town her family had moved to.

"Figuring out what we be," he said matter of factly as he took another large gulp from the jug in his hand. "Been seein' dat look of puzzlement on yer face with moments of 'ha!' only rational t'ing is you been tryin' ta fig're what we be. See me, I'mma rougarou, swamp trickster. Name's Couillon." Tentacles looked at the drunken creature in bemusement.

"So I have, and I know I've figured out three of you--not including you and Adness," she added before he could object.

"Well that's mighty impressive yer highness," he said with a grin. Tentacles sighed and started to walk away. "Ey! Where you goin'?"

"There's no need to insult me," she snapped petulantly. "You people look nothing like the townsfolk I met yesterday. None of this looks anything like there." She fidgeted under the hard, considering look he gave her. He finally grunted as he stood.

"Well, gumbo's bout done. You go' be wantin any?" He asked. Before she could answer her stomach growled so loud a few of the others looked at her and started laughing. "I'll be takin' dat as a yes. Aaaaahyeeee!" He bellowed as he rejoined the group and the music started playing again. She circled around and sat by Adness--hid would probably be a more appropriate term. She could hear the woman laughing at her softly.

"We aren't that terrifying."

"Forgive the look of terror and barely masked panic on my face, I'm used to more human company." Tentacles muttered. Her black eyes widened as Adness got very close to her face. After a while the woman blinked and pulled back. She said nothing more and turned back to the group. Tentacles felt that tingle of loneliness, of being left out of something important. She'd brushed it off when the rougarou had stood up, but now she had the sinking feeling it was nothing good. Someone handed her a huge bowl of stew, before she could stop herself she had swallowed all the contents in two gulps. A belch rang from her and she clapped a hand over her mouth in shock. She'd never been able to audibly belch before. Everyone started laughing and she giggled sheepishly. Her bowl was refilled from the giant cauldron off to the side of the circle. She forced herself to eat slowly and with utensils. This took her a few moments. She now had different proportions to deal with and a surprisingly acute depth perception that was completely new to her. Once she got the hang of it she was able to watch everyone talk to one another as they ate. She slowly started figuring out the group's dynamics and smiled at how gloriously elaborate it was. There were about a dozen people or so, though from the unpacked bundles she assumed there were usually more of them. Once everyone was full and everything was cleaned up they all rejoined the circle and looked to Adness. The snake woman smiled and laughed lightly.

"I sssupposse it iss ssstory time iss it not," she rose higher so she could see everyone and frowned. "Oh! I forgot." She turned to the side and threw up something that flopped about.

"I am sssorry, dear," Adness said sheepishly. A hand limply waved off her apology and dropped back down. "Ahem, now asss for tonightss sstory I've chosen a rather relevant one for thiss evening. The story of the forgotten Queen of Shadows." Tentacles was relieved to hear her 's' shorten in length as she began the tale.

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There was so much I didn't know. It took me a lot longer to make the connections of everything to myself. Adness and Couillon had tried from the beginning to tell me my own history. I learned obliviousness from humans and it took me many months of bridge burning to unlearn it. When I finally connected it all the story of the Queen forever stayed with me.

You see from the earth there first arose the race of Dryads and from their tender touch and steady care came fiery and earthly beings. From the light emerged the Elves, a race of introspection and wisdom, and from their musings sprang creatures that took to air and sea. And from the shadows there came the Pixies, bred of fear and ill intent who wrought twisted, tortured beings into life with dark hearts and sanguine minds.

The first awakened women of each initial race was given a crown to rule over their people. For many years there was tenuous peace and the people flourished, until the daughters of earth and light banded together against the Shadow Queen. Inevitably defeated, the Queen fled into the darkness of the Underground and largely believed to be dead. She left behind three children and a riddle of a prophesy housed in the secret chambers of the Gnomes. The Queen's eldest daughter, Scrabnicce, was raised in court during the time of Peace. Her beauty and impassivity were the bane and heartbreak of many. Within the hearts of those from the Shadow Kingdom she is often referred to as the Banished Queen. When victory had been declared by the allied Queens she was publicly stripped of her title and bound to the waters of the sea, never to touch air or land again. Her son, Bartholomew, second born and unable to contest for the crown was bound in servitude to the Dryad Queen and over time sightings of him were never reported again. Her third, a daughter, was reported dead when the allied troops stormed the castle. With no ruler the Kingdom fell into chaos and the land and subjects were divided between the Queens. What the two Queens in all their power and knowledge failed to realize was that there was a balance that was maintained with the three. Without the Pixie Queen to house the darkest parts of living beings the twisted bloodlust began to infect the subjects and, eventually, the Queens themselves.

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"I must admit I've never heard that one," Tentacles said with a yawn as she pulled her bag into her lap. She was wholly unaware of the looks everyone was giving her and each other.

"I think perhaps it isss besssst to bed down for the night," Adness said quietly. "What are we to call you?"

"Oh, uh, Tentacles I guess," she said grimacing. "I knew I was forgetting something. My name is Tentacles." She said with an awkward smile. One by one everyone introduced themselves. It wasn't until the person on the other side of Adness---the flopping being she'd forced out of her gullet before she began their story-- stood up and introduced himself that she actually froze with surprise. Although the boy had a trail of spikes over his head and down his spine, he was the same grey color as her and had the same build. She stood up to get a better look at him and found she was a head taller than him.

"My name is M.P." he said proudly, shoving his hand out. She took it slowly and saw her own smile slip across his face. He turned and practically bounced over to a hobgoblin whose name began with Mucus. No longer tired in the least, Tentacles sat back down and tried to think.