Catgirl Isekai Gone Wrong

[CrazyDarkstar23]

maybe it's godly remnants from whatever final war or such that went down with the MCs mom.

 

[The Radiance's Follower]

Desperation and exhaustion.

Click to shrink...

Keeping itself secret so people won't pray to it since it's power is almost gone ? Then why help Gwen at all.

 

[vladspellbinder]

Bleh, Zalgo text. A blight on the internet. Hate it, so much.

Desperation and exhaustion.

Click to shrink...

I'm guessing the local deities are not the sort that gains power from their worshipers so they don't need said worshipers. I'm guessing that Golden Pawprints is one of, if not the only, surviving members of the local pantheon and when Gewn reached out to "anyone who could hear" they were either compelled to respond or just couldn't bring themself to not help when they could. But now, having acted, Gwen keeps asking for help and so they keep responding but if more people knew then more people would ask for help and that just gets so tiresome. Best no one else knows, for now at least. Just have to wait and see how that all pans out.

Thanks for the chapter!

 

[HiddenMaster]

Bleh, Zalgo text. A blight on the internet. Hate it, so much.


I'm guessing the local deities are not the sort that gains power from their worshipers so they don't need said worshipers. I'm guessing that Golden Pawprints is one of, if not the only, surviving members of the local pantheon and when Gewn reached out to "anyone who could hear" they were either compelled to respond or just couldn't bring themself to not help when they could. But now, having acted, Gwen keeps asking for help and so they keep responding but if more people knew then more people would ask for help and that just gets so tiresome. Best no one else knows, for now at least. Just have to wait and see how that all pans out.

Thanks for the chapter!

Click to shrink...

Yeah, my apologies on the Zalgo test. Wanted to experiment with it, went with the minimized version. But even there I'm getting some negative reactions to it, and it doesn't add much to the text. I don't think I'll be using it again going forward.

 

[vladspellbinder]

Yeah, my apologies on the Zalgo test. Wanted to experiment with it, went with the minimized version. But even there I'm getting some negative reactions to it, and it doesn't add much to the text. I don't think I'll be using it again going forward.

Click to shrink...

The problem is that it is hard to read and, unless used like you did where it is in it's own line away from all other text, makes the text around it hard to read as well. It is also rather over used for "anything eldritch or unusual" so if you read a lot of fics in that vein you see it often and it just gets so, so tiresome. In my opinion it adds nothing to a story in and of itself and is visual shorthand for "something is odd". And that doesn't even come across if someone is using a text reader to 'listen' to the story instead of reading it themselves and the text reader might not even pick it up.
And and there isn't ANY way of removing Zalgo text from a story because of how it is added. You can copy-paste it in to a 'translator' that removes the distortion but there isn't a script or plug-in or any such thing you can add to your browser to just not see it.

The two things I hate seeing in stories is Zalgo text and invisitext because they add complication in actually reading the story for so little gain.

So, thank you for deciding to not use it going forward.

 

[HiddenMaster]

Chapter 22: Linguistic Lessons, Calisthenics and Alarming Revelations Oh My

Sandy's voice rang out. "Now, do your best to repeat after me, 'Rwy'n llwglyd. Ga i gig morloi sych'?"

I cleared my throat. "[May I have some dried seal meat]?" I repeated, carefully mimicking the words Sandy had just spoken. It was hard. Parts of it felt vaguely familiar, but that ironically made it even more difficult because the familiarity meant I kept messing up or mixing up sounds and words in ways that felt right but were actually wrong for the language. But, I'd been practicing the past few days, so I managed without a hitch.

"Very good Gwen!" I beamed at Sandy as she did her happy glow. It was odd but she tried her best to emote, despite being a crystal ball thing with no humanoid features to speak of.

…

I should make her a set of cat ears.

Sandy's iris swirled to focus on Mom sitting next to me, cross legged. Her clothes were wrinkled, just like mine, her hair mussed up and in need of brushing, and eyes undeniably tired from too little sleep. "Now, you too Eliza," Sandy said cheerfully.

"I hate you and I hate this language," Mom grumped.

"Na uh uh," Sandy chided. "Can't be a productive member of society if you don't try. Be more like your daughter, she's a natural at this!"

"I want to chuck you in the ocean," Mom spouted back. I giggled. She shot me a look in betrayal.

"Come on, I know it's tough, but…"

"Okay. I'll try. Here goes nothing," Mom said. She sighed long and hard, stretched, and cracked her knuckles.

"Stop procrastinating," Sandy said.

"Yeah, Mama," I joined in, feeling absolutely giddy.
"Fine, fine. Here goes," Mom said. The sound she uttered was clearly an attempt at what Sandy said, it truly was, but good gods did she not get it right. What she uttered was the vocal equivalent of butchering an animal with a rusty spoon. I don't think being drunk could have made it any worse.

I giggled.

"You're bad at this," I said.

"Gwen, that's mean." Sandy said, giving Mom a commiserating, uh, eye gaze. "Even if true." I had a feeling Sandy would have hid her smile behind a hand if she could. Or had hands.

Mom was quiet a moment. "I can still chuck you in in the ocean."

"Sorry Mama," I hugged her side. I had never seen Mom struggle before like this, and it was on something I found easy. She grumped harder but brought her arm to hold my shoulder.

Okay, that was a blatant lie. This was hard. There were words without vowels here, and that was so weird. But this was going on my third language now, and I'd had some practice at this point. Even if my [English] was pretty rusty.

A few days after Jonas, Zenn, and her group arrived, Sandy was confident enough in her comprehension of the language to begin teaching us. With that, she had taken to giving us a crash course in their language. I said a crash course; drilling us on their terms like we were cramming for a test was more like it. I'd picked up a few words from Zenn or Jonas, our main points of contact with their group, but it was hardly proficiency in the language, let alone fluency.

Funnily enough, they also called it Illia, but with the "a" stretched out a bit more.

Still, I was getting it! The alphabet was a bit different, and I kept getting things mixed up, but I think I'd get it down eventually. At first, Mom had been the same. The "theory" stuff with nouns and verbs and letters and adjectives was easy for both of us.

But when it came to actually speaking it…

Mom was baaaaaaad.

"I know what you are saying, but my tongue just does not want to make those sounds like you two are. I have no idea how Gwen is managing it so well," Eliza harrumphed. I glanced up at her. She responded by patting my head, so I didn't get too mad.

"Don't worry, Eliza, I am confident we can get you down for this. We all have our strengths, and—"

"You're a spirit core. This stuff is innate, you don't count," Mom huffed.

"— I'm sure you will get it down, in time. Gwen certainly is, but she is young and children tend to grasp languages quickly. You're a bit more set, so…"

"I know, I know. Just frustrating. I can understand mana chromatics and resonance theory on a level that'd make my old instructors blush, but simple pronunciation is kicking my," Mom glanced at me, "bum," Mom finished. Lamely.

"Mama, I know what 'ass' is."

Mom stared at me.

Sandy stared at me.

Sandy burst into giggles. "Once more, what marvelous vocabulary you have taught your daughter."

Eliza just groaned, but I thought I saw the slightest traces of a smile. I decided she could still use some comfort so patted her arm.

This? This was nice.

Mama was awake and healthy again, we were both learning, and we had plenty of food now. Almost reminded me of the island, but a certain tension was gone from Mom. I think she was still worried, but getting us out of there, seemed to have relieved her of a heavy burden.

Mom yawned and stood by the open doorway, framed by the morning light. "I'm going to do some calisthenics. Gwen, care to join me?"

I nodded rapidly and scrambled to my paws as we both departed with Sandy sending a "have fun~" our way. As part of Mom's r-e-h-a-b-i-l-i-t-a-t-i-o-n, she was doing exercise.

The exercise was a lot of stuff we'd done on the island on a day to day basis when we weren't foraging or working on Sandy, but with how sick she'd been, Mom had decided to start off lighter and was ramping it up day by day. I didn't do all the same things because she said a girl my age shouldn't, but I did join in with my own exercises. I was really good at jumping jacks and the obstacle courses back on the island, but we hadn't done those in a while.

Mom tossed her dirty jacket aside and stretched her arms above her head. While sick, she'd lost weight, but even now her musculature was pronounced if lessened, with clearly defined biceps and abs briefly visible as she stretched. I hoped I could look as good as she did when I grew up. Unfortunately, a memory of my old life surfaced.

Muscle mommy.

I gagged, shuddered, calmly sealed the memories that term invoked, and tossed them in the deepest, darkest hole in my brain where they belonged.

"Gwen? You okay?"

"Fine, Mama," I assured her. Not sure she believed me, but I threw myself into the stretches she'd showed me. First reach for the skies, then down to your toes, and don't think about weirdoes from your first life who made that term in the first place.

She stared and I knew she knew something else was wrong, but she didn't pry. She kicked out at the ground a moment, hopped in place, and reaches for the sky as well.

With that, we fell into a rhythm. First arms, then upper body, then legs, then, and more. It was kinda like yoga, but with different terms. Way easier than my old life, but I guess we were cats, so it made sense. Little thunderstrike, downward facing tiger (also neat, tigers were a thing in this world!), and more, all loosening up muscles as we got ready. As we moved in a loose synchronicity, I imagined I must look like a version in miniature as I followed her lead.

The first time we'd done this, we'd gotten a few bemused looks from Jonas' group, but it wasn't anything too out of the ordinary. More "look at what those new people squatting in the shack are doing' than anything else. Now, they barely glanced our way. Mostly. One or two men and one woman were very much prone to drooling over my Mom whenever she did this.

The perverts. I might've hissed at them.

…

When they weren't looking.

Eventually, we finished our stretches. I hopped, feeling so refreshed and my muscles all loose and springy. I felt like I could jump to the top of a tree! I couldn't, and I'd tried, but still. Mom dropped to begin pushups while I began my own jumping jacks. Yet, just as I started, I felt a pair of eyes boring into me.

I didn't even need to look to hear the rapid patter of paws before a certain young catgirl barreled up to us.

"O-Dduw-rydych-chi'n-chwarae-Dw-i-eisiau-ymuno.-Dw-i-eisiau-ymuno."

I may have been learning Zenn's language, but I'd still just started, and, uh, I couldn't keep up with her in excited mode, so I just stared at her blankly before waving and resuming my exercise. She responded by just joining in…

Poorly.

I know I wasn't great at it, but Mom made sure my form was down so I didn't hurt myself. Her movements were wild, sloppy, and more about just moving and bouncing in place than they were about exercise, which probably accomplished enough, but still.

Mom eventually stopped on her push ups, sighed, and stood up.

Zenn froze as Mom tsked at her, and then corrected her posture.

Zenn stayed still as Mom nudged her position, saying nothing given the language barrier but getting her into something slightly more serious. She had no idea what to make of Mom doing this and kept babbling at me too fast for me to say anything. Afterward, Mom gestured, and I continued. Zenn tried to continue, only for Mom to correct her posture again.

This continues three times before Zenn got the message and…

Well, she tried, at least.

With that, Mom started guiding us through our daily exercises. Well, mine and her exercises, whereas Zenn kinda just tagged along and tried to follow and was usually corrected. I tried to help, and was able to get in a few words but, uh, yeah, that was something of a work in progress at this point.

Eventually, Mom got her started on some basic stretching which made her pout given I was, in her words, "having fun", but she acquiesced with a grumble.

I think. Zenn still talked really fast and I was still learning.

Still, it was, like earlier, nice. Fun, even. Just being with Mom, and…

I guess my first friend? Yeah.

At some point, I realized what the warm feeling in my heart was.

I was happy.

~~~~
​

Lady Sandra, Sandy to her friends, lived in a world of information and analysis. The constant minute but nonetheless notable fluctuations in her heart, the ship's mana reactor, the ceaseless flow of mana through her piping from station to station, and myriad inputs from sensory equipment on the ship-the divination lens offered a thin view cone of view far, far into the distance. Meanwhile, resonance points built into her hull gave her a more limited but generalized feeling and awareness of her entire hull, akin to sensory nerves combined with auditory receptors that let her hear and process stimuli from auditory to the visual and around her body.

More specialized instruments monitored and updated by her crew fed her world information: the psychometer informed her of humidity levels, multiple thermometers informed her of ambient temperature in and around the ship, a wealth of hydrometer varieties informed her of the sea's salinity and acidity levels (useful given the presence of certain alchemical traps meant to rapidly eat at hulls), hydrophones to monitor the sounds in the deep for things which shall not be named but should all be killed with prejudice, and wind speeds measured by air speed indicators informed her of the climatic conditions. All of this enabled her to function as a fine destroyer in her majesty's Grand Fleet. This wasn't even to mention her triangular thaumic detection array, carefully calibrated to detect incoming and ambient magical effects.

Yet, none of this she could do alone without her crew. They operated the stations, gathered data, helped work parts of her body that let her focus on things like course. She could do some things on her own, like navigate, fire guns, regulate the reactor etc., but it was so much more efficient to work with her crew as her attention could not be split easily, and valuable efficiency was lost if she tried. Her main advantage was speed, but with them she was far more complete. Even if she did wish they hadn't done occasional amorous acts in a particular supply closet. It was always that same closet too. She was a lady and tried not to listen in, but it was difficult when such acts happened inside your own body.

…

At least, that's how she was, what felt like a lifetime ago, with a proper body and fresh out of port ready to serve in her Majesty's grand fleet.

Now? She was just her core. No proper body of steel to pierce the high seas through sun and storm, just a glorified crystal shell encasing complex runic matrices frequently shoved into a pack of socks at her compatriot's convenience. Or her five year old daughter. A single resonance point let her have some semblance of awareness and communication, but it was so, so much more limited than she was used to and it grated.

If she saw in perfect and crystal clear color before as a fully operational ship of her Majesty's fleet, now she'd had one eye extracted, one ear non functional, most of her skin was numb, limbs missing or paralyzed, and the one eye that did still work was in grayscale.

Sandy hated this. No ship spirit liked being stuck in their core. She was a glorified paper weight right now.

It was worse than being comatose on a death bed because at least they weren't aware. She was.

Sandy sighed, more for herself than anything else. Not like she had biological systems to release endorphins, but it was an act that let her do something. While a part of her knew she was being overly harsh on herself, it remained consistently difficult to quiet that part.

The issue was perfect recall. Sandy wasn't an information type who had absolute perfect memory and data storage. She was much more organic in mental architecture in some ways, but she could and did inscribe memory to her database, which was perfect in clarity and capture. When it came to her devoted functions, she had nigh perfect awareness and recall over her memories and consumed data.

Admittedly, she had to take a conscious effort to do so and it was intensive, but things relating to her function were more than worth the effort. It was a great advantage for memorizing seas, changing conditions, and more, and somewhat made up for her inability to clearly multi-task, but now she concluded it as a notable disadvantage. It'd be a bit nicer to know passage of time would result in the lessening of her memories and the fading of the pain brought on by her failure.


Aisling O'Shea (KIA)
Brían Gallagher (KIA)
Niamh Kavanagh (KIA)
Cian O'Donnell (KIA)
Saoirse Byrne (KIA)
Eoghan Murphy (KIA)
Clodagh McCarthy (KIA)
Fionn O'Reilly (KIA)
Aoife Keane (KIA)
Rónán Flynn (KIA)
Ciara Brady (KIA)
Tadhg O'Malley (KIA)
Gráinne Nolan (KIA)
Seán Delaney (KIA)
Orlaith McGrath (KIA)
Padraig Duffy (KIA)
Sinéad Treacy (KIA)
Cathal Lynch (KIA)
Maeve O'Rourke (KIA)
Darragh Connolly (KIA)
Róisín Cutter (KIA)
Eliza Mor (Active)
Eamon Walsh (KIA)
Aine O'Donoghue (KIA)
Colm Healy (KIA)
Deirdre Fagan (KIA)
Liam Fitzpatrick (KIA)
Bríd O'Driscoll (KIA)
Conor Sweeney (KIA)
Tara McLoughlin (KIA)
Cillian Keogh (KIA)
Emer Horgan (KIA)
Ruairí Donnelly (KIA)
Muireann Farrell (KIA)
Diarmuid Higgins (KIA)
Eilish Moran (KIA)
Fergal Carney (KIA)
Áine O'Keeffe (KIA)
Niall Dunne (KIA)
Eithne Brennan (KIA)
Declan O'Hara (KIA)
Nuala McDonagh (KIA)
Lorcan Ryan (KIA)
Sadhbh Costello (KIA)
Gearóid Maher (KIA)
Iseult Reilly (KIA)
Donal Kinsella (KIA)
Laoise Hanrahan (KIA)
Shane O'Callaghan (KIA)
Mairead Kelly (KIA)
Fearghal Burke (KIA)
Bláthnaid McCabe (KIA)
Cormac Tobin (KIA)
Síle Carr (KIA)
Aodhan O'Connell (KIA)
Nóra Devlin (KIA)
Tomas Maguire (KIA)
Ailbhe Scanlon (KIA)
Breandán McMahon (KIA)
Éabha Casey (KIA)
Cathal O'Neill (KIA)
Meabh Cassidy (KIA)
Seamus Redmond (KIA)
Sorcha Finnegan (KIA)
Oisín O'Gorman (KIA)
Eimear Clancy (KIA)
Eoin Doyle (KIA)
Caoimhe Gildea (KIA)
Fiachra Sheridan (KIA)
Bronagh Muldoon (KIA)
Ruarc Kelleher (KIA)
Dervla Hynes (KIA)
Ailill Coughlan (KIA)
Dearbhla Slattery (KIA)
Tomasín O'Dwyer (KIA)
Clíodhna Rafferty (KIA)
Malachy McEvoy (KIA)
Erin Curran (KIA)
Caoilfhionn Curran (KIA)
Ultan Curran (KIA)
Keelin O'Hanlon (KIA)
Daithí Moran (KIA)
Etain McGowan (KIA)
Odhran McKenna (KIA)
Siún Lawlor (KIA)
Peadar Bannon (KIA)
Éadaoin Fallon (KIA)
Finbar O'Toole (KIA)
Orla Ní Chonaill (KIA)
Muiris O'Dea (KIA)
Liadan O'Flaherty (KIA)
Séamus Corrigan (KIA)
Aobh Ní Riain (KIA)
Cathán Brophy (KIA)
Tressa Lydon (KIA)
Breffni Nevin (KIA)
Áedán Crowley (KIA)
Éirinn Whelan (KIA)




Sandy cut off that process and its inevitable conclusion. She was a failure and had outlasted those she was meant to safeguard behind runes, artillery, and steel, but she could still be useful! Hopefully.

Eliza had stepped out with her daughter to perform exercises, which was good. It would speed up her recovery, not that it was in question at this point. Both Eliza and Gwen had ample access to nutrition thanks the newcomers, who all seemed quite proficient at seal hunting despite seemingly lackluster tools. Only one even seemed to have appropriate ranged weaponry, and that was a gunpowder firearm, of all things; some sort of, breech loader? The rest used a motley mix of harpoons, tridents, or even improvised clubs. Clubs! Even the most motley of Illia's old militia would at least have single shot shard throwers, supplemented with bayonets. Clearly, they weren't soldiers by occupation, but seemed armed through desperation.

Still, they seemed proficient with them, if nothing else given their success in hunting the local frost seal population..

Technically, Eliza should be taking action to stop them given the protected status of frost seals, but nothing was remotely normal right now and they hadn't recognized or mentioned any Illana authority, so Sandy let it pass.

Left by the primitive hearth and distressingly close to the socks, Sandy had nothing to do but continue reviewing existing data.

The language the new people spoke was simultaneously fascinating and exasperating.

Fascinating in it showed very clear, significant departures from Illia in odd but meaningful ways that spoke of a rich history. Unfortunately, these divergences also rendered it mostly unintelligible to modern speakers, like Eliza and Gwen. Exasperating because the closest translation she had available was derived from Ciem Illia, aka Pig Illia, a mostly stage oriented language popular two hundred years ago. The only reason she even had it in her archives was that one of her handlers when she was still in the lab-shrine had apparently been a fan of classics and read a lot of it during development and even explained it as she underwent awakening and mind strengthening exercises. Technically out of protocol and regulation, but Sandy was grateful for it now.

It wasn't one of the fifty languages she or her sisters had in their database; it was a one off thing and minor miracle of dead gods she could understand the man at all. Even there, her comprehension was less than she liked. That could be rectified, with time, but even so, it brought back the ugly truth.

Unless someone literally carried her around or came to her, she could do almost nothing on her own. She was a ball. If placed on a hill she might roll. That was about it.

Still, she spent time cataloguing and examining the terms. They were recorded in her database memories, but that did not mean they were the easiest to draw on, and additional insight might be gained from its examination.

It wasn't her specialty. None of this was. Her analysis was a task of effort and ongoing concentration. One she could maintain consistently longer than someone like her fleshy crew, but even there she would have to 'rest' from time to time, even if it wasn't really the same as what Eliza or other cat folk felt.

Information type cores could handle this way better, but they weren't here right now; she was. Outside her function or not, she had to make the effort. Without her body, this was all she could do.

Her progress thus far was, at least, notable. She wouldn't call it full fluency given the gaps, especially in terms outside romantic story lines, but it was at least a base proficiency with some notable gaps. At least it better than what Eliza and Gwen faced. Teaching them basics would take a while.

A knock at the rickety door and a head poked in. Older, eyepatch, grayish white hair, distinctive cheekbones — Jonas. Better rested than last time, as well.

"May I come in?"

She couldn't stop him if she tried, but that would polite of him to ask. "Of course, Jonas. What brings you here?"

"I wished to speak more, concerning our journey and, well, what actions you and your friends wish to take now that we have something of a baseline understanding to speak with one another. Eliza, I believe, is preoccupied with those odd exercises of hers, but well, Zenn is thoroughly enjoying herself now that she has finally seen another child. The first in some time, in fact, so I have no wish to disrupt them."

"Understandable," Sandy commented, then latched onto the wording. "You said 'some time'? Why?"

"Ah, the crux of the matter," Jonas said as he took the single seat to sit right in front of her. "How much do you or your companions know about [Ionad Spuaic Athshondais]?"

Sandy concentrated. He diverged, spoke in modern Illia momentarily, but it was a name. Resonance Spire North? Her iris narrowed and magnified what it could to take in more of his grayscale features and she wished her default sensory node was better, but she'd never been expected to have to actually use it.

This close, she was able to note that while not gaunt, Jonas was undeniably lean. Perhaps too lean. He was not to the point of being starved, but he looked to have missed more than a few meals. Could be result of genetics and lifestyle. Or lack of food. More information needed. "Nothing. I recognize the terms, but do not know what you refer to," Sandy said.

Jonas appeared taken aback by this. "Oh. I see. I knew you all were outsiders, but I had hoped—"

"Why would be outsiders?" Sandy inquired.

He slumped. "You truly do not know, then? Miss Eliza and her daughter, their hair color is not terribly common, nor are the facial markings, back where we lived. But that is not significant, as such people do pop up from time to time. You, however, are. I had heard of [ysbrydion artiffisial wedi'u rhwymo] before, read in the archives during my time as a minor scribe and physician's assistant, but I had not think I'd live to see one. You must have come far, in your journey to reach [Teyrnasoedd y Sbâr]."

Sandy's thought processes ground to a halt before accelerating as she processed that information. The terminology was unknown, but context indicated it referred to her, or her existence. Bound spirit? Artificial spirit? The second name also caught her attention. Spire Realm? Name of a locale, or nation? None of those fit with her knowledge of the world. Granted, such things weren't perfect, but she knew all major kingdoms, empires, republics, and authoritarian states active on the world stage of note, and that wasn't any of them, so perhaps it was a backwater or some locale she had never had reason to know. Landlocked areas on the Corsen continent particularly stumped her on quizzes, after all.

Moreover, he was surprised by her. She shouldn't be surprising. Unusual, rare even, but artificial spirits bound in a crystal rune matrix were a known function of modern military and, particularly, warship design in Illiana, with discussions on integrating them elsewhere in society. This wasn't to mention more limited and minor spirits of nature and the like bound in crystal that did all sorts of oddball things that'd been known for centuries, since the Age of Secrets, or even further back in the Age of Heroes. They taught about them in universities. There was a degree path to learn about spirit core creation and function.

Perhaps a warship class artificial spirit would be out of reach of the average person, but you would hear stories, at least. But to think she was 'surprising'?

"Why am I surprising?" Sandy asked.

"It's," Jonas trailed off a moment. "I had never expected to see a spirit core intact. Marvelous, frankly, and a relief to know I lived long enough to see one. Not enough to offset the tragedy, but, well, I will take what pleasant news I can.."

Tragedy. Premise correction. These are not travelers. Refugees?

Sandy beat down her rising alarm. "Please, explain. I think you need to assume I know nothing. Why, exactly, are you and your group on a journey."

Jonas studied her, and she wondered what he saw. She was effectively a crystal ball who made glows to emote and could slightly move her iris to focus. There wasn't much but her inner swirling mass of runes to study, and without proper tools to break the illusion and a degree in runic mental-simulation dynamics, you wouldn't get anything from her surface.

Finally, he spoke with great sadness, visibly drooping as if he had to drag the words out. "We lived in the Northern Spire, but had to flee for our lives. There were many more of us, and what you see now in our band is but a remnant. Before you ask, we all remain mystified as to what exactly happened. There was no buildup, nor were any of us even in the same area when it happened. One minute, it was a normal day. I was running errands for my clinic, but had stopped to check in on young Zenn given her parents had been contracted for renovation work in the Spire Lord's palace. Then, something happened and I have no idea what."

He exhaled in a long, moment, hands balling up even as a shudder ran through his body. "One moment, the city progressed as normal. People woke, cooked, ate, farmers in the outer villages tilled soil, steel clan worked forges, artisans crafted, even the sorcerer apprentices studied in the Spire itself while scholars greater than I sought to unravel secrets of the old world. The next? I don't know. A flash of light, of wrongness, and the entire city, the spire, was just left in utter ruin."

Jonas trailed off, trembling. "I apologize; it is difficult, to put it lightly. The things I heard coming from the ruined Spire," he looked away and swallowed. "It's one thing to know the gods are no longer there, intellectually. But it's another thing to hear a mockery of their voices imitated in an abominable chorus." By the end he was whispering, nearly, eye lost in sights only he could see and no longer trained on Sandy.

He seemed to shake himself back to attention after biting his own cheek? That was the only thing Sandy could identify. Intentional, unintentional? She did not know. More unknowns.

"I was among the last to leave, holding out hope against hope to find Zenn's mother and father, but I have my limits. The others couldn't venture too close, but I had more experience with the arcane, but even I found my experience woefully inadequate. Whatever," here, he faltered, his voice breaking. His fist clenched and he said nothing for a long while.

"Whatever happened there did not spread, but none of us could bear to look deeper into it. The mere proximity was unbearable. One by one we found each other and planned our escape. Our group gathered what supplies we could and with no other options, nothing but the wagon, did we travel south. Our goal is the [Spire Center], which was, well, we hope, is still active. I know no reason it shouldn't be, and traders had arrived just recently. Hopefully, they will take us in."

Jonas sighed, shoulders slumping even further. "It was hard, you know. Not everyone made it with us. The lands are not safe, roads not maintained, and [bwystfilod coll] great and small prowl the woodlands, to our shame. I don't let the others see it, but I despaired of seeing the spire even with our progress."

He looked back up at Sandy with a bit of renewed energy. "Seeing you, Eliza, and young Gwen and your compatriots, I was hopeful, another party had been nearby, perhaps even an official delegation from another Spire had come to check on us and you'd been cut off in some accident, but I see now that was erroneous reasoning on my part. Unfortunate, but I invite you to come with us. I'm afraid there is nothing for you, Eliza, or young Gwen here in the north."

He stood with some grace despite his own weariness. "I have shared what I can of our story. I won't force or ask for yours until you are ready. I admit some curiosity, particularly on the state of the world beyond our lands, but it is not my place to pry if you are unwilling. But, given only you can speak our tongue with proficiency, I will leave you to explain to your compatriots."

With that he turned to leave.

Sandy was speechless for a long moment. That was a lot to take in. But even so, one thing was absolute:

Jonas couldn't leave yet.

"Jonas! Wait!" Sandy asked. She switched back to Illan. She emulated clearing a throat she didn't have, then shouted as loud as her resonance node would allow, "Eliza! Get your butt in here, we are getting to the bottom of what the heck is going on since we left port now!"

Jonas jerked and sat back down, clearly curious with a raised brow at her 'request' given how he had left the conversation. Her shouting, in turn, prompted Eliza to rapidly show up with Sigil enhanced speed as she stopped her exercises. She gasped heavily, but it was a good sign of her recovery she was even capable of that much. Naturally, Gwen and Zenn followed suit.

Sandy was surprised others didn't follow along to make the cramped party in the shack complete, but she supposed they were out of earshot.

Still, all of that was secondary to her primary focus: information, or the lack of it.

"Okay, good. Everyone's here. We need to have a long conversation as I think there is a seriously lack of understanding verging on miscommunication on both sides here and I am tired of being in the dang dark!" Sandy announced. She then repeated in Ciem-Illan for Jonas and Zenn. Zenn gasped at the 'naughty word' while Gwen seemed to perk up and note it down.

Part of her was a bit flustered at how the kittens clearly heard her foul language, especially Gwen given her earlier teasing to Eliza, but it was overridden. She had been bothered ever since she'd woken up from her long sleep. Dormancy was a normal part of her function if necessary, but unexpected dormancy was not, and the circumstances? Strange.

But she'd been put out of commission for a time, outright damaged in a way that defied logic and reason, her crew killed off, the gods apparently gone, but absolutely no one came to check or rescue them afterward? Not even a Corsen salvage team who'd be very eager to get their greedy paws on her, a living Illiana naval officer, mana reactor, and a ship core, even if her core had been damaged?

She'd been operating on the logic that, whatever had happened to the gods had resulted in a worldwide crisis, perhaps even an escalation of tensions into full blown war on a global scale. Even in a best case scenario, supply chains broke down, food stopped being produced, people starved, and that was before she accounted for at least half of everyone as an estimate just laying down to die, assuming the whole world experienced what Eliza had. At a minimum.

With that chaos as a backdrop, it was no wonder no one had come to rescue Eliza or the crew, yet that hadn't sat well with Sand; the ecosystem Eliza described, the lack of further communications of any variety detected on long range resonance systems or even short range, the fact that Eliza hadn't seen a single sign of another person in five years? It didn't add up.

Now, the first band of people they encounter continually make confusing statements on top of a language that was mind bogglingly frustrating in both its similarities and differences to her own records, however sparse they were? Yeah, no, she was getting information, and she was getting it now.

"Sandy, what is going on?" Eliza asked. She moved to place herself between Sandy and Jonas.

How sweet. Too bad Mama wants her data.

Jonas tilted his head, listening intently in a way Sandy found admirable. Language barrier or not, he sought to understand, and went for body cues in its absence.

"What's going on is that none of this adds up, and there is some form of miscommunication going on somewhere between us," Sandy said to Eliza, then translated for Jonas who nodded.

"Jonas. You said earlier you believed we were from the wider world. Why?" Sandy asked. Were Eliza and Gwen notably different from the refugees? Yes, but they were cat folk, and Cat folk were native to the Illanan archipelago. Sure, there was a lot of variation to cat folk, with some with more primal traits compared to Eliza and Gwen, but they were all cat folk. Populations existed in Uphun, Eronia, Osayes, and hundreds of other places, but Illana remained the cat folk capital of the world. Even some existed in Corsen, even if that was a mess she didn't want to delve into at the moment.

Jonas scratched his beard. "Well, besides the appearance of Eliza and Gwen, it is your language and artifacts. I know the tongue of the traders who come from the other spires, and while it's been some time, it is mutually intelligible. Perhaps a little odd, but such happens in all localities, I imagine. Your tongue is the first I found totally incomprehensible outside very old texts, which I took to mean you were from distant lands," he explained.

"Odd. From my perspective, your language seems connected to ours, but heavily diverged from a no longer active sub-dialect," Sandy said.

"Truly? I suppose such things are possible, maybe some distant ancestral language, but I cannot propose to be as knowledgeable and my days as a spire scribe are long behind me."

"What about the other thing? Artifacts?"

Eliza, Gwen, and to a lesser extent, Zenn watched on without comprehension, which Sandy felt bad for, but she had to find further information know.

"Ah, yes," Jonas began. "Well, the presence of a [shard thrower]," he said, using the Illian word before dropping back to his language, "is an uncommon sight these days, and would have fetched a pretty coin back in the Spire among the Lord's guard. Far better than what the scavengers in the Old Kingdom ruins usually brought in, and spectacular quality, too. But that was minor. The real surprise is you, in particular. I mentioned it before, but truly marvelous to see a spirit core active in this day and age," he said. His eyes softened as he gazed upon her with the same look of wonder Sandy would've reserved for the Grand Fleet sailing out to sortie against the Corsen 1st​ Fleet.

"I'm unusual?" Sandy asked, probing.

Jonas looked confused. "Yes? Are you the norm where you come from? If so, I must admit some envy if such marvels abound."

Twice, he referenced time. Before, he mentioned: Age. "Jonas, I am going to ask some questions that may seem utterly, completely ridiculous, but please bear with me," she said.

Amused, he gestured at her to go ahead.

"What does the name, 'Illanan Archipelago' or 'Illanan Constitutional Monarchy' mean to you?"

Jonas blinked a few times. His hands played upon his knee in thought for a long moment. 'Ah! You mean the old kingdom. I remember my grandfather's father apparently referred to it as such, according to my father, may the Paths ease his journey. But yes, it has fallen out of favor. Most just prefer to call it the Old Kingdom this, or Old Kingdom ruins that. Maybe Old Illan, by some in a speech making mood," he chuckled. "I suppose some scholars in the Spire keep to it, but if so, I have not heard much of it."

Sandy's runes flared in her core because she knew their light reflected in the shack. Zenn and Gwen gasped, while Eliza tensed. Jonas's gaze intensified, but he said nothing. But it was okay, Sandy was just accelerating all her processes.

"And if I told you we were all Illianan citizens and that Eliza and I served in her majesty's fleet?"

Jonas stopped. Mouth dropped. Even his ears stood straight up while his tail bristled, if but momentarily. "I would assume you joke, but… "

"Oh gods damnit!" Sandy shouted.

"What? What's wrong? What did he say?" Eliza said. She pulled Gwen behind her even as she studied Jonas. One word, and Sandy knew Eliza could act, but nothing Eliza could do would fix what was so, so wrong.

"Eliza, stand down. He's not a threat," Sandy commanded, and zeroed back on Jonas. She needed further proof for her thesis. "One. More. Question. Jonas, when did the gods die?"

Dead silence met her. Even Eliza picked up something of that even if it was fragmentary. Zenn's hair, ears, tail, everything bristled and she hid behind Jonas' legs. Jonas himself went white. He worked his jaw. "… roughly 150 years ago. Records from the days after are sparse, but cooroborated by the Spire Lord."

His eyes dilated. "You, you are from before the Star Fall?"

Star Fall. Fitting name if it is what I think it is. Later. Answer, now.

"We were on patrol, with some supplies to relief a garrison from orders of the admiralty as the Corsens kept probing our waters. I am not aware of what exactly happened, as it knocked me out of commission and only learned second hand from Eliza, but something damaged my ship body horrifically. We, we must have been caught in the aftermath of a colossal strike, something divine."

Jonas looked back and forth at all of them. "I don't, this is unbelievable. If only my Elsa had been here," he whispered with a heavy tone.

"Sandy, what is going on? What did he just say?" Eliza asked.

Sandy decided to rip the bandage off. "Congratulations are in order, Captain. You and I are the first known mortals in existence to have successfully breached the veil of time."

"What!?"

~~~
​

Gwen POV
​

I listened intently to the discussion, but I will be honest, I completely lost both Sandy and Jonas in the first minute. I could ask for some nice jerky or where the latrine was, but I had no idea what Jonas and Sandy were throwing back and forth with occasional interjections from Mom.

Yet, it was serious. Jonas was near white, while Mom was agitated. Sandy? Sandy was more intense than I'd ever seen her.

Zenn's worry over Jonas was more important to me given she seemed just as lost. It was a bit impulsive, but I took her hand and leaned into her which seemed to help the older catgirl.

Then her runes took on a bright glow before cutting out entirely.

After that came the translation.

…

About this point my brain shutdown as this revelation jammed everything.

Time travel.

Illiana, our home civilization, was gone.

Mom's home was gone.

Star—Fall

Something about that burned in a way I couldn't describe, a painful melancholy that built into a pulse pounding pressure I wanted to gasp at, but couldn't as I felt perfectly fine in an alien way.

Wait. These aren't my feelings.

I looked around, but spotted nothing. No movement in corner of my eye, nothing, yet I knew its attention had been called.

Yet, it left, just as quickly as the conversation moved on.


At some point, Jonas excused himself. Said he was faint and needed rest. But not before a speech.


"I…I can only imagine what it must be like, one day living in a vibrant world in the midst of a golden age and the next in a dismal shadow. The world may yet live, but it is not kind to mortal folk. Without gods, storms rage ever harder, wilds get more dangerous, and the [pla bwystfilod] grows stronger. The spires, our homes, are the remnants of the, no, our people, contingencies. The lands around them are safe, farms still possible, and more. The lords guide what is left, and I know our lord in the north was hopeful of seeing the world born anew once more. I am sorry. Illiana as you knew it is gone."

I think Jonas was dramatic and would've done great in a theater. The part of me that thought this was also sarcastic and operating overtime to keep me from freaking out at the things he said.

The apocalypse had come and I was living in its remains.

That was not good news. So, so not good news.

I was sad about Illiana. But that was abstract. Like Celia.

I flinched at the thought. It was horrible. And I felt guilty. But it was true. It was a place I'd never seen. I was sat about it in the same way I was sad about not getting to see the cool stuff of the Roman Empire in my old life.

But all of that was pushed aside because Mom cared, and…

Oh gods, Mom.

"We've been in Illiana all this time?" Mom asked, her voice numb.

I don't think she had the energy left to be horrified. Or shocked. Maybe later. But not now.

"Yes. I assume the state of things are a result of our world dying," Sandy surmised. How she sounded calm, I had no idea. Maybe she was screaming on the inside.

"Guess," Mom started. "Guess I'm not getting that backpay," she finished weakly.

"Technically, you might strain the old treasury with how much you'd be owed now, if it were still functional," Sandy said.

It didn't take a genius to realize both of my family were not doing well. Dark humor was something, but it wasn't nearly enough.

I wasn't impacted as much by this, but they were. It was real. Their homes, their ports, their cities, their lands, their people, their families, the good, the bad…

It was all gone.

Near inaudibly, I heard Sandy whisper something.

"Vicky…"

That's it.

I stood up and stomped over to Sandy. She blinked sluggishly at me, seemingly just as exhausted as Mom and Jonas were after the whole conversation.

"Gwen? What is—"

I picked Sandy up and hugged her. I didn't know if she could feel, but I wanted to show her I felt for her.

I then about turned, marched back to Mom, and plopped my butt in her lap.

"Gwen?" Mom ventured.

I looked up at her, and then leaned back into her lap and snuggled closer. With that, I hugged Sandy closer, who still seemed stunned by this development.

I couldn't say a dang thing to make this better. But I could still try to give what comfort I could.

Mom said nothing. I saw Sandy light up a few times, but no words came out of her. Instead, slowly Mom just crossed her arms around me and we sat, all three of us, together in the twilight.

Chapter 22 Author's Notes

Dun Dun Dun!


Humorous Chapter Title that didn't make the cut for being too tone breaking: Okay seriously, what do you mean it's been how long? What even is the genre is this story?!!

Chapter went through a lot of revamp. Was originally two separate chapters, but given the reveal, timing, and so on, cutting it up just did not flow like I wanted and felt minorly criminal to even try.

But yeah, the world's been a turning even while Gwen grows and has her own journey.

Let me say, this chapter fought me. I had a huge section including a discussion between Jonas and Gwen, but the language barrier came back with a vengeance and it had to be scrapped. Gwen complained early on about not having a translator. I, as an author, am doing that now as well, but I'm fully committed at this point.

Not sure I'm happy with how this has turned out, but I think it was needed, and I can touch it up for the public release.

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Obligatory author plug because I'd love to write more but society sadly says I need monies to keep living (and support my growing addiction to commissioning catgirl art).

Support me on Patreon, Ko Fi, or Subscribe Star. Check them for advance chapters uploaded every weekend, too. Or check out my website for links to my other author accounts, contact, socials, etc. Anything is appreciated :3

I am also hosting writing commissions at $0.10 USD (10 cent) per word, but offer discounts on memberships on my Ko-Fi, so be sure to check it out if you'd like me to take a crack at a fic of yours, eh?

Christmas Update!-In the Christmas spirit, I'm cutting my usual rate in half to $0.05 USD (5 Cent) per word!

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If you've paid to read this anywhere outside of Patreon, SubscribeStar, or Ko-Fi, then you've been scammed and someone is ripping you off as it is stolen.

If you're reading this on any other site than RoyalRoad, SufficientVelocity,Spacebattles, QuestionableQuesting, MZNovel, Wattpad, or Scribblehub or it's by anyone other than HiddenMaster, it's been plagiarized and stolen.

---

 

[Karispyro]

That was a good chapter, I'm glad we got a clue what was gone wrong. Kinda what I expected with the language weirdness. I feel for Sandy and Eliza, losing their whole world like that. Damn, everybody involved has lost their world, huh. Gween got issekaid, Eliza and Sandy got Ragnaroked, and Jonas's group got apocalypsed. Do wonder what that means for Paws, old god or new god or what?

 

[The Radiance's Follower]

Time travel. I knew it was something like that. What could be the end goal for this arc ? The last one was reaching civilization. This one is not clear yet, hopefully something interesting.

improvised clubs. Clubs!

Click to shrink...

Seal Clubbing ? Looks like we have found Fictional Canada.

 

[HiddenMaster]

Chapter 23: Overstayed our Welcome

You know, I was starting to think the only appropriate response to dramatic revelations and trauma was to walk it off.



To start off with, my first life. Death by burning alive. I can still smell the burnt pork, but it wasn't pork, it was my first life's flesh being cooked like smoked pork.



Next up: nearly die in an icy storm while Mom wasn't waking up from a magic ritual you still didn't quite fully get but apparently let you do basic magic? Oh, and pray for help, discover the gods are dead the next day. Can't forget that, of course. Doesn't take away the fact you still need to eat and sleep and clean up next day, so do that and contemplate existence in a quiet moment.



Get sidetracked on a dark ship, lost, locked away, panic, cry in the devouring dark that felt like it was trying to slither into my brain, find way out only with something's help, confess to Mom you don't know what happened but it was scary and not right? Get comforting cuddles, go home, eat, bathe, and get up next day for foraging.



Nearly die to a horrifying woman in the water who wasn't a woman but wore one's face and who I still see in my dreams before crashlanding on a new landmass? Gather supplies and go on an extended hike because camp still needs to be made.



Finally, today. Discover your mom and ship spirit are technically time travelers who survived what could only be a global apocalypse that was so destructive they were thrust forward in time as the space time axis presumably became spaghetti? More cuddles but be sure to eat your seal stew the nice hunters and refugees are providing.



…





This bothered me.



"Mama? Why are we acting like we didn't discover you and Sandy are time travelers? It's kinda weird. We're just, uh, eating and having lessons like normal."



Mom tried to quickly swallow, choked, pounded on her chest, and only finally managed to gasp out a somewhat stern, "Gwen!" with a cough.



"Not a bad question, to be honest," Sandy mused from her spot. Today, she was on the little window seal, at her request. I think she liked looking at the clouds.



"Oh, not you too," Mom muttered. She flicked her hair and breathed while I waited. "Well, sweetie, lets walk through it. You're right. I'm, and this sounds just as strange to me, but I am a time traveler. What do we do now?"



I blinked. Thought. Thought some more. I opened mouth. Closed it.



"Not sure, huh? That's fine Kitten, but I'll let you in on a secret. Neither am I," Mom sighed. "I mean, I'm sure there's a lot of things scholars and researchers could say, heck the old priests might have a word, but, well, I'm not them, and we're all the way out here," Mom said, gesturing vaguely. "I'm still not sure where here is, beyond somewhere in Illiana."



"To be fair, knowing this doesn't exactly change anything. You all still need to eat, bathe, clean yourselves, and more," Sandy said.



"True. But all of that stuff before is, like, 'maybe' or 'could', not what we're actually able to deal with." Mom looked aside for a moment before commenting, "Life continues, whether we like it or not."



I tilted my head, and found the words resonated with me.



My first life died because of a Furby. He, uh, had it bad. But I was here now. Life continued.



I blinked. I really hoped Furbies weren't a thing here.



"So, anyway, I was thinking of getting you all started on some more complex sentence structure, possibly even vary up the conjugation and—"



A piercing scream filled the air.



Mom was on her feet in an instant and grabbed her shard thrower from its place in the corner. She grabbed Sandy. "Gwen, stay here!" Then she was out the door.



I'd barely had time to blink.



I rushed to the door. I wasn't stepping out. I knew I couldn't help, but a peek couldn't hurt and that scream…



It was bad. Like something precious inside someone broke levels of bad.



I peeked through the door and saw a commotion in the field by the campsite. At first, I wasn't sure what I to look for. There were a lot of people rushing across the field. I followed their trajectory to see two figures, hunters who'd left that morning I think, carrying someone between them and —



Blood.



So. Much. Blood.



I gulped.



A cat folk woman, one of the perverts who ogled Mom earlier, had collapsed before them. She was shaking, even at this distance. Her claws were on her face.



I couldn't make out more details. But his shoulder didn't look right. And there was so, so much red and black covered his body that I could just see, even from the shack.



That, that wasn't survivable, was it?



Jonas, Mom, and other cat folk rushed over, and soon my line of sight was obscured as they crowded around to presumably try to treat him.



I glanced back toward the camp and did a double take on seeing Zenn, standing there, forgotten. Or maybe she had been told to stay in the tent and didn't listen, like me.



She wasn't moving. Just standing there, watching. Her tail was low. Her ears were perked straight up, alert.



I…



Mom would be okay with this. I think.



I called to Zenn. I don't know why I tried to say it softly as I knew she wouldn't hear it at this distance. She didn't respond.



I stepped out and called again, firmer this time. She still didn't respond.



I ran over to her, head on a pivot as I looked back and forth between her and the fallen cat folk. No one noticed I was out. Understandable. Someone they probably all knew and loved was probably dead. His hair looked like one of the two male cat folk who had joined in with the woman ogling Mom.



I didn't know his name. Zenn probably did. She'd been with them a while, even if I knew they were together by necessity.



I was right next to Zenn, and she still hadn't acknowledged me. I tugged on her arm. She slowly turned to stare at me blankly.



I slowly guided her back to the shack. She didn't resist, nor did she speed up. She just followed.



I shut the door behind us and sat her down on a bedroll.



I didn't know what else to do.



"Zenn?" I asked.



She didn't respond. This close, I noticed all the hair on her tail, on her ears, everywhere, were standing on end. Her teeth seemed to be clattering.



She said nothing.



If she'd said something, anything, if she'd been panicking, I would've been less worried.



I settled for sitting next to her. I didn't hug her as I didn't know if she wanted that, but the moment I sat down she made the choice for me as she clutched to my side. Well, more I was clutched to her side, again.



Any other time, I may have complained. I didn't.



To be honest, every little feature of Zenn, the standing up fur, the slight shaking, probably applied to me as well. I was just more cognitive than she was.



I settled in to hold her back as we waited for the adults to figure out what to do.



~~~~



The funeral was that night.



Mom and Sandy said he got attacked while hunting the nearby seal colony seals but were cagey on what really happened. I wondered if they knew I knew they weren't telling me everything. But I got it. I really did. I was a useless, stupid, five-year-old.



Zenn was still really quiet. At least she ate the bowl of seal stew Mom got for her. She was still holding my arm and wouldn't let go. Jonas had checked on her, and besides a hitch in her throat and a brief switch to holding onto him like he would disappear while I went to pee, hadn't otherwise changed positions.



The funeral was hasty; the grave shallow. A pile of rocks placed over it the only thing to prevent a wild animal from digging him up. They didn't really stand out from any other rocks scattered around the marker was a large stick with a bit of red cloth. I think it was cloth from his shirt or his tunic. I wasn't sure. I stood with Mom. Zenn was still on my side and Jonas hadn't had the spirit to try more than once to pry her off.



The refugees took turns speaking. The woman who'd screamed was still crying. I didn't know if it was progress from her sobbing earlier or if her voice had just grown so hoarse as to be unable to keep up. I wondered if her ears would ever perk again.



I couldn't keep track of more than one word in fifteen. I didn't really try. Sandy was whispering to Mom, but otherwise I was excluded. I was fine with that. This wasn't for me.



Another death, another person I didn't know whose loss I struggled to feel for. It was shocking, but I hadn't even known his name before tonight.



It was Brian.



Something about it was shockingly mundane sounding.



I think what shocked me most wasn't the fact he was dead. I didn't know him. But it was seeing the reality of death laid out for me. I'd seen graves before. Even a skull before. But that was a bobble, something barely real. Never a body. Never a mortal wound, no matter how hazy and indistinct it might've been at a distance.



This world wasn't safe.



I listened for a while longer. There were tears shed. Some laughs. I think they were telling stories of his life. I couldn't keep up more than scattered words. Sandy whispered to me and Mom to help, but even there I felt a bit lost after a while…



I was disappointed in an odd sense. In myself? Or was it sadness in I wouldn't even have one story of this stranger to take with me in life?



The speaker changed. Jonas spoke this time. I think I understood him more than most. Something about comfort and being born again. Like what Mom said about the graves back on the island. Like Celia.



I listened as I could.



Then the crying woman stood to begin speaking. …



An acrid scent burned my nostrils.



I blinked and made a face. It was that unpleasant.



It wasn't a fart. I knew that much. Besides, I imagine there'd have been reactions to that.



It was oddly musky. Like a wet rag left out too long and had gotten moldy. But it was mixed with something else. Sea salt and something animal-like. I didn't know how else to describe it, it was something I could only define as animal.



The scent was getting stronger.



Still, no one reacted. I started swiveling my head around. Mom noticed with a frown and tapped my shoulder. I barely paid attention as I focused on the scent.



The musky, animal scent was pungent, stricken with something distinctly earthly and oily, but this wasn't like Sandy's faint scent of machine oils and mint. This felt cruder, almost pungent, sulfurous.



The scent spiked, grew far stronger in seconds.



I gagged. I felt like the scent had become tangible and coated my throat.



I staggered to my feet, swirling as I faced a certain hill. My hair rose.



My eyes shot open. I hissed.



Some of the funeral goers looked at me confused; one or two a bit angrily. They didn't know.



Something was coming.



Tha-thump.



Words died on assorted lips in the twilight as an arm crested the hill. I say arm. I didn't know what else to call it. It looked like it might have been a flipper, once, but the webbing had shredded to nothing but scraps of flesh leaving only long, bloodied bone-fingers behind. Bones it used like claws to rip into the rocky soil to pull itself forwards.



I'd seen pictures of seals in one or two of the survival manuals Mom had. I'd seen their bodies. Mom brought one back, after all, plus hunters had been bringing in one or two a day for a week now. Meat to dry and smoke, and hides to do something with, I wasn't sure. They were kinda weird; they looked like seals from my first life, but with a distinctive ridge line over their skulls that almost gave them a mohawk look.



This thing was orders of magnitude bigger than even the largest specimen they'd hauled back. Its left flipper dragged alongside it, utterly withered. So was the back tail flipper, too, from what I could see. It compensated with extreme muscles in its front body and right flipper. Or what was left of it, skin shredded and exposed bone to make long claws I just knew could rip and impale flesh with ease. It paused on seeing us and reared up. Its mouth opened. But it wasn't like a normal seal's mouth.



Teeth.



I did not wet myself.



…



Maybe a little.



It was like a lamprey. What looked like thousands of teeth interlocking teeth. Drool continuously dripped below. It was grotesque. And huge.



Big enough to swallow me whole.



I wish it had roared. That, at least, would be expected.



Instead, after observing everyone and tilting its head to eye us with one split eye that looked directly at me, it slammed back to the ground and started undulating its whole, grotesque body forward with the help of its ruined flipper claw.



There was no fear. Just prey.



Tha-thump.



Someone shouted. Mom was in front of me.



It kept coming.



Tha-thump. Tha-thump.



Everyone burst into action as it sped toward us.



Many cat folk went for their set improvised weaponry. Those with tridents or knife spears out in front, clubs on the side or behind. A line quickly formed, weapons levied as it approached in near silence save for the sound of its hide scraping on the rocky soil and its claw digging in periodically to drag itself forward.



The crying woman from earlier, the one whose name I still didn't know, rushes to take place behind the line. She raised her rifle.



Thunder split the wind. Red and black oil tore out of its muscular body with a spray and chunks of gray flesh. It flinched, but only from the impact. It whirled on the cat woman who'd shot it even as black smoke filled the air.



This prompted a change. The refugees turned hunters all, nearly in some pack or pride like unison, began to growl and hiss. They spread out around it, prowling. It remained silent and sized up its opponents. At no point did it show fear.



Then I was taken away. So was Zenn. Mom grabbed us both as she rushed us away. I looked over her shoulder as the hunters tore into it.



Tha-thump. Tha-thump. Tha-thump.

…



I'd been wondering what that frantic beat was. But that was silly of me. It was me. My heart.



I had been hyperventilating this whole time. Neat. Hahaha.



I didn't see the rest of the fight. Mom deposited me and Zenn at the shack. Ran back out with her shard thrower. I heard it fire three times with its soft but distinctive whoosh; the black powder gun thundered twice more. Zenn covered her face.



"Nid eto nid eto nid eto."



Her voice was small. It took a second for me to realize she was saying, "Not again" over and over.



I hugged her. It took her a bit to realize I was there, then she was back to holding a death grip on me. That's fine, I was doing the same to her.



~~~~



Later that night, we were packing. Jonas spoke to us. Sandy translated. A fire burned behind him.



"We've stayed too long. It's no longer safe. We're leaving. Tonight."



Mom didn't argue.



I didn't.



I really didn't want to be here anymore. I was just glad to leave.



As we left the campsite and the shack behind, I couldn't help but feel an odd itch in the back of my throat.

---

Chapter 23 Author's Note

And that's a wrap. I decided to drop this chapter a little bit early because Christmas, might as well give people a bit of an early treat. I don't think I can give another chapter on Saturday given my difficulty writing lately, so just one chapter this week.



Wildlife got a little testy with their continued presence, eh?



But no, seriously. That thing would eat leopard seals for lunch. I call it a false seal. They've become endemic. :3

---

Obligatory author plug because I'd love to write more but society sadly says I need monies to keep living (and support my growing addiction to commissioning catgirl art).



Support me on Patreon, Ko Fi, or Subscribe Star. Check them advance chapters uploaded every weekend, too. Or check out my website for links to my other author accounts, contact, socials, etc. Anything is appreciated :3



I am also hosting writing commissions at $0.10 USD (10 cent) per word, but offer discounts on memberships on my Ko-Fi, so be sure to check it out if you'd like me to take a crack at a fic of yours, eh?

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---

If you've paid to read this anywhere outside of Patreon, SubscribeStar, or Ko-Fi, then you've been scammed and someone is ripping you off as it is stolen.



If you're reading this on any other site than RoyalRoad, SufficientVelocity,Spacebattles, QuestionableQuesting, MZNovel, Wattpad, or Scribblehub or it's by anyone other than HiddenMaster, it's been plagiarized and stolen.

 

[Karispyro]

Interesting that Gwen noticed it long before anyone else. Not a nice world she ended up in, huh?

 

[HiddenMaster]

Interesting that Gwen noticed it long before anyone else. Not a nice world she ended up in, huh?

Click to shrink...

I may need to overhaul that bit. She smelled not for its physical scent although it has that, but more for the arcane energies it has, aka its 'magic' smell. But noticing a number of people are coming to different conclusions, or even she forgot about her ability to smell magic (to be clear, that's not on this site, it's on others)

 

[vladspellbinder]

Fell a bit behind but caught up now.

Yeah, I was expecting some sort of time differential, with the "language drift" and all.

I was sat about it

Click to shrink...

"sad"

Mom said nothing. I saw Sandy light up a few times, but no words came out of her. Instead, slowly Mom just crossed her arms around me and we sat, all three of us, together in the twilight.

Click to shrink...

Aaaaaawwwwww.

I, as an author, am doing that now as well, but I'm fully committed at this point.

Click to shrink...

There are MANY reasons for "translation convenience", the author just not wanting to bother with a second (or third, or fourth) language being one of them.

And Gwen forgets his special ability. Not that she's had cause to use it all that often but she even thinks about Sandy's scent!

And yeah, time to get a move on. To a new location and more people!

Thanks for the chapters.

 

[HiddenMaster]

Fell a bit behind but caught up now.

Yeah, I was expecting some sort of time differential, with the "language drift" and all.


"sad"


Aaaaaawwwwww.


There are MANY reasons for "translation convenience", the author just not wanting to bother with a second (or third, or fourth) language being one of them.

And Gwen forgets his special ability. Not that she's had cause to use it all that often but she even thinks about Sandy's scent!

And yeah, time to get a move on. To a new location and more people!

Thanks for the chapters.

Click to shrink...

I really need to reword this as I did not think that would be the implication. You aren't the first person to mention her forgetting that when, at least as a write, I did not mean she forgot she can smell magic. She perceives magic as a scent. I thought the description and her directly comparing it to Sandy would be implication enough, but seems I do need to rework it.

 

[vladspellbinder]

I really need to reword this as I did not think that would be the implication. You aren't the first person to mention her forgetting that when, at least as a write, I did not mean she forgot she can smell magic. She perceives magic as a scent. I thought the description and her directly comparing it to Sandy would be implication enough, but seems I do need to rework it.

Click to shrink...

The problem is that she doesn't directly think that is what is going on.
She smells something. OK, fine, it's a bit odd but she smells things all the time. It is a very foul odor that no one else is reacting to, now that is odd.

Suggested simple fix:

Still, no one reacted. I started swiveling my head around. Mom noticed with a frown and tapped my shoulder. I barely paid attention as I focused on the scent.

The musky, animal scent was pungent, stricken with something distinctly earthly and oily, but this wasn't like Sandy's faint scent of machine oils and mint. This felt cruder, almost pungent, sulfurous. Was I smelling something's magical aura?

Click to shrink...

Just say it directly, because the way things are it sounds like she's confused what is going on even though she directly thinks about Sandy's scent. It's sort of like how you can think of all of the synonyms of the one word you actually want but can't think of that one word. So it comes across as if she's fogotten she can smell magic. At least to me it does.