Catgirl Isekai Gone Wrong

[JHMV]

Well, that's somewhat terrifying. I can only assume that the gods, or something impersonating them, ate the souls of everyone who accepted their deal. And it almost certainly wasn't just the people on the ship. It sounds like roughly 5% of people who heard the call refused it (everyone who rolled a nat 20), which means it's a post-apocalypse out there.

Click to shrink...

Half of them refused, most of the rest died to sickness and giant monster... which is probably also true in the rest of the world.

A few years ago with COVID, we saw how devastating a sickness that puts a fraction of the population down and has a 1,6% mortality rate can be. Something that straight up kills half the population is going to destroy any and all society.

 

[Doomsought]

Half of them refused, most of the rest died to sickness and giant monster... which is probably also true in the rest of the world.

A few years ago with COVID, we saw how devastating a sickness that puts a fraction of the population down and has a 1,6% mortality rate can be. Something that straight up kills half the population is going to destroy any and all society.

Click to shrink...

The panic was worse than the disease. The Spanish Flu was far worse as plagues go, and people pushed through to keep WWI running despite it. The knowledge that the gods are gone would have done far more damage than the deaths.

 

[JHMV]

The panic was worse than the disease. The Spanish Flu was far worse as plagues go, and people pushed through to keep WWI running despite it. The knowledge that the gods are gone would have done far more damage than the deaths.

Click to shrink...

More damage than half of everyone dying? If half the population dies, that's half of every job you need to keep society going, dead. And now you have one corpse for every person. How are you burying everyone? So you have people rotting in the streets while you find out which vital roles in society have no one alive that knows how to do it.

We don't know how their society is like, but if they have battleships, they probably have an industrial economy. That comes hand in hand trading. Half of everyone dying on the ship killed the rest of the ship, and that definitely happened in all the other ships. So sea shipping is gone, even if the gods were still around, even if there was no panick at all. That's more than enough for a generalized economic colapse, famine, all that good stuff.
Panic is going to make any crisis worse, but there's no worse than "There's so many people dead that we don't have a society anymore".

 

[HiddenMaster]

More damage than half of everyone dying? If half the population dies, that's half of every job you need to keep society going, dead. And now you have one corpse for every person. How are you burying everyone? So you have people rotting in the streets while you find out which vital roles in society have no one alive that knows how to do it.

We don't know how their society is like, but if they have battleships, they probably have an industrial economy. That comes hand in hand trading. Half of everyone dying on the ship killed the rest of the ship, and that definitely happened in all the other ships. So sea shipping is gone, even if the gods were still around, even if there was no panick at all. That's more than enough for a generalized economic colapse, famine, all that good stuff.
Panic is going to make any crisis worse, but there's no worse than "There's so many people dead that we don't have a society anymore".

Click to shrink...

Don't forget the gods having polite and cordial disagreements with each other.

 

[The Radiance's Follower]

Lot of lore. I don't know what they expected to do seeing as their own gods we're losing that fight.

But maybe not totally as the world is still standing.

Heck maybe they are not dead at all, just having to guard the monster with all their might or they die.

Still. This is quite the pickle all around. Hope they can reach safe ground.

Wth will the people even think after finding their long lost captain if they are alive that is.

 

[vladspellbinder]

I didn't expect the reason for "no one to answer" to be something somewhat known. Real interested to know just what was going on there but unless golden pawprint thing wants to answer some questions we'll probably never really know what happened.

And I'm guessing that the rice is something more important than just being a food staple. Probably some sort of magic rice that has a critical nutrient in it they can't get from some other food.

Thanks for the chapter.

 

[HiddenMaster]

I didn't expect the reason for "no one to answer" to be something somewhat known. Real interested to know just what was going on there but unless golden pawprint thing wants to answer some questions we'll probably never really know what happened.

And I'm guessing that the rice is something more important than just being a food staple. Probably some sort of magic rice that has a critical nutrient in it they can't get from some other food.

Thanks for the chapter.

Click to shrink...

It's more that the island forage is terrible and stores are running pretty low. That said, the blue rice is somewhat similar to golden rice in that it was engineered to have extra nutrients compared to its more mundane counterpart, so you're not wrong, either.

 

[HiddenMaster]

Chapter 14: Celia

Mom placed another rock in the pile we'd made in the field facing the island's interior behind the citadel. With a slight huff, she planted a crude stake with a bit of white cloth tied to one end amidst the rock cluster. The rocky soil resisted, but Mom was strong. That, and she had a hammer.

Mom stepped back with a sigh to survey her work.

Already, the white cloth had begun to drift slightly with the Fall breeze. At her gesture, I placed the last rock at the stake's base. The final addition gave a slight contrast for its notable blue tint compared to the gray shale that formed the rest of the pile.

"It's not ideal. Devoted talismans blessed by a priest would be better, but it's what we have." Mom rose, dusting her claws off. I stepped a bit closer, still watching the flag while I clutched my own basket. "Alright, Gwen, repeat after me."

She bowed her head. "Rest well, unknown friend. May you find peace as you venture through the Dark Paths once more." Her words were difficult to follow, far more grammatically complex than I was used to. My ears perked fully up as I strained to listen and drink in the new grammar. I was able to get their meaning for the most part, but I think I missed some of the modifiers she used. It seemed like just in my old life, formal language could get complicated, if not even more so, kinda like that eastern language all those animated shows were in. German? I think it was German.

Following Mom's example, I bowed my head and recited her word for word with only a mild butchery of the finer grammar used. We held a moment of silence as we stood around before slowly leaving the final resting point. I fell in close to Mom as we walked, our feet crunching in the gravel rich soil along the way.

"When people die, Kitten, they enter the Dark Paths," Mom said, stroking my hair from the tip of my head to my ears. Under other circumstances, I might have purred, but it wasn't right for what we were doing, so I simply took comfort in her touch.

"You don't need to know the specifics just yet but think of them as a place beneath the realm, kind of like a…a reverse mirror of our world, a labyrinth of unseen places and people's memories. Before you ask, no, you can't dig there," Mom said with a wry little smile before her tone became serious once more. "Everyone enters the Dark Paths, and everyone will one day leave the Dark Paths. Even you and I were there, once upon a time," Mom said with an odd, bitter little smile.

"I was?" I asked as my thoughts raced. Was this some form of reincarnation? Was it real, or just her beliefs? Life in the old world suggested a lot, and I really do mean a lot, of potential beliefs, but the mere fact that I remembered an old life suggested the possibilities were out there. Plus, I knew beings like Mr. Muscles existed given I was here.

Regardless, I couldn't know; not right now at least.

"I said everyone, didn't I?" Mom said with a touch of snark to her words. "One day, hopefully when you're much, much older and after a full life, you will go there too and make your way out again to be reborn once more. Death doesn't have to be a bad thing, Kitten. Sometimes, it's just a chance for new beginnings."

Mom trailed off, looking back at the grave. "Sometimes, though, people can get confused, lost even, maybe even leave the Dark Paths before they're ready. That's why everyone deserves a proper burial, so that they can always have a beacon to get their bearings." Mom stared off into the distance with a familiar look I knew. She was seeing things I'd never known, people I couldn't know, but had been her whole world. Her gaze finally came back to me as she focused on our environment.

I hummed and followed her gaze. "So many," I said, softly.

The grave marker we'd made was only the latest of many. Graves surrounded us in rough rows, filling this section of the old fort. Every grave was slightly different and built by painstaking hand. Each had a bit of cloth tied onto the marker stake. Most had green cloth, a few had blue. Some were significantly older than the others and the cloth no longer blew in the wind but hung stiffly to their stakes, the elements having taken their toll.

I knew Mom had dug most one of them despite how horrible the soil was. I'd only seen them long after burial. I'd tried digging at one point in another part of the island and exhausted myself in short order because it was so rocky.

Yet, Mom had dug without complaint with a collapsible shovel.

I gripped Mom's hand tightly as we stood, observing the graves.

Once, when I was supposed to be napping, I counted the graves. Fortunately, basic math skills hadn't forsaken me, and I'd come to 98. In some sense, the number seemed mundane. In others, it felt unreal, but I knew they were here and close enough to touch.

99 graves were placed here long, long after the fort had been built and abandoned. I knew none of them. Today, Mom had added one more to that number.

Mom rarely talked about the graves, or what had happened to cause them, yet I knew it had to affect her. I wasn't just a sheltered little girl who would look at these without realizing something was wrong. Each and every single one of these graves represented someone Mom must have known. Yet, there was nothing I could do to help.

The pain Mom faced was deep inside her where I couldn't reach.

Mom squeezed my shoulder. "Indeed," she said sadly. We stayed quiet for a minute before Mom shook herself and hefted her basket. "Come, we have one more to see."

It didn't take long. At the very end of the rows laid one more grave, similar to all the others, except for the extra care given to it. The stake held a yellow ribbon like cloth tied to it. It was rough, like all the others, but care had been given to make it thinner and longer. Stylish, even, like something a child might wear in their hair. Piled in a bowl were dried purple wildflowers taken from the island's interior. It always surprised me to see them still here, but Mom had made the bowl deep to protect against the wind.

Mom smiled bitterly and reached into her basket to pull out two items: a small wreath of flowers, and an effigy made of twine bound twigs and a stick. Both looked so small in her hands. Despite being understandably rough, both were lovingly made.

"Hi, Celia. It's been a little while, hasn't it, baby-girl? We brought you a few things." Mom first gently laid the effigy down to lean against the stake in a recess between it and the rocks. Then, she slid the wreath down over the stake.

"I know your journey's a long way from its end, but hopefully you can play with these along the way, you know? Least I can do for you," Mom said. Her voice didn't break but sounded like she wanted to. Bitterness, sadness, and more infused her tone.

I tried to think of something to say. I failed. Instead, I stared as the breeze slightly shook the wreath's purple flowers. It wouldn't last long out in the elements, but I think Mom knew that.

When I first woke up here and realized I'd been reincarnated, I'd assumed I'd been Mom's only child. After all, I'd had no other reason to think there were others. It got a bit weird when Mom was the only person I ever saw in the nursery, but that could be a culture thing. "Only the mother may see her child in its first year" or something along those lines, I had thought. I had nothing to base that thought on, but it sounded reasonable at the time.

Then I was brought outside to see the sun and feel grass for the first time and immediately saw the graves.

I liked to think I wasn't stupid. Impulsive, perhaps, prone to sticking my foot not so much as in my mouth but as jamming it down my throat, but I could put two and two together.

Mom was the last, a remnant. I'd had a sister, once upon a time. I'd survived. Celia hadn't. My sister, my very own twin in this world, hadn't made it even a month according to Mom.

"My little miracle," she sometimes called me. I'd been sick too, apparently, in those first days after being born. I'd survived. Celia didn't.

I felt as if unraveling that feeling born from this realization would take a lifetime. Yet, I think the worst part was that I didn't feel grief like Mom did.

I wanted to. God, gods, Mr. Muscles, whatever higher being was out there, I wanted to. I wanted to be in tune with Mom, to feel as she did.

I knew Mom cried at night when she thought I was asleep. I knew she got faraway looks when we passed the markers or sometimes lost herself looking out over the horizon in quiet moments. Yet, even with my own sister's grave, I struggled to feel as she did.

Mom could recite names for each of the graves. Sometimes, she'd step in front of a grave to adjust a marker and softly say a name, "Iskan, Conor, Aoife," and so many more. She'd known everyone, an entire crew.

She'd known so many people, or at least, enough to make even my previous life's social circles feel pitifully small. Yet, I just didn't. The only person I knew in this world was my Mom and, only just recently, Sandy, although it would be a stretch to say I knew her. Even my sister was an abstract, not terribly different from saying "I have in the past century had at least one dead ancestor".

Ever since I could walk, Mom would at times take me out here to this part of the fort. Mom liked coming out here, even if she didn't talk much about the others. Sometimes, we would sit near Celia's grave, and she would talk about her old hometown, the crystal lake with fish as wide as an arm span, the glittering woods, and endless misty rains.

I'd come to realize being out here wasn't for me. I could see the loss, but it was a phantom feeling, almost like realizing I had a chance to make a friend but the chance is gone now. Sad, but my heart shrugged it off without difficulty like a thin shroud. Instead, I hurt for Mom and hated how I couldn't do anything to make her feel better.

I couldn't feel for everyone, not in a true sense, at least. Yet, my mom did, and that's why I made the effort. "Here you go, Celia. I hope you like it," I said, quietly.

I fumbled my offering out of my basket. It was a necklace. Rough twine threaded through vibrant clam shells on a string. Most clam shells weren't very pretty, but some, once in a while, were almost pearlescent. This necklace represented a year of gathering as I only found a few pretty shells every now and then buried deep in the sand.

I put the necklace at the base of the grave's stake with a small tinkle of rainbow shells.

Mom's breath hitched. I stood back up but otherwise remained morosely tranquil. I found myself not so much held as clutched to her side with a desperate strength. I did nothing but lean into her hold as she held me to her side and silently shook in the fading twilight.

​

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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.

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Chapter Fourteen: Author's Note

Man, this one took a while. Entire time I was writing all of these more emotionally tense and melancholy scenes like the ending to LOTR: Return of the King was playing on loop rent free in my head and not in a good way.

From fairly early on in Catgirl Isekai, I'd intended Gwen and Eliza to be survivors of a shipwreck, and happenstance to have decided their survival more than anything else. Gwen could just as easily have taken her sister's place, and that sort of thing just gets to me.

Not only the potential for the end to one's life so unexpectedly, but the idea of having someone so close, someone who by all rights should have been one of the pinnacle figures in your life, but losing them before you'd ever met them…

It's like knowing with near certainty when joining up with a group that an old member, someone who died before you ever got to meet with them, could've been a best friend.

Well, the premise both intrigues and saddens me, and likely made it onto the page.


Also I had art commissioned of this chapter! One of my favorite pieces I've ever commissioned, frankly, and by the wonderful YoruAlice.

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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 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

Also I have a discord now! Check it out. I would love to chat with fans. :3

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[The Radiance's Follower]

That picture is so cute.

You know. I hate when the re-incarnated person tells their entourage about them being re-incarnated. But this is the first time where I would actually be in favor since there is an in-story reason. I would donate for the art alone if only I wasn't broke

 

[HiddenMaster]

That picture is so cute.

You know. I hate when the re-incarnated person tells their entourage about them being re-incarnated. But this is the first time where I would actually be in favor since there is an in-story reason. I would donate for the art alone if only I wasn't broke

Click to shrink...

Hey, glad you like the art, and entirely fair. I wish I had enough money to commission way more art, frankly, as there is so much that could be captured in visuals, but alas.

And it's appreciated that you are following along. Donations are welcome, but so are comments. I feed off them derive insightful joy and feedback on my critical works from them.

 

[Jon0278955]

This is a great story I keep a tab for this one lol

 

[dj84722]

Why do they have squiggly whiskers, is there a reason for that?
It reminds me of some infected enemy in a game, like there is something showing in their veins

 

[HiddenMaster]

Why do they have squiggly whiskers, is there a reason for that?
It reminds me of some infected enemy in a game, like there is something showing in their veins

Click to shrink...

It's relating to their specific tribe, or race in this instance, and is just a phenotypic trait. Some cat folk have full on whiskers and more fur, some less. Eliza's people, the Illanans, typically were on the lower side of such things.

 

[vladspellbinder]

That shell necklace made me teary eyed a little, which was unexpected. I guess it hit just right.

Looking forward to how things play out with the escape attempt, I hope all three of them make it without too much pain along the way.

Thanks for the chapter.

 

[HiddenMaster]

Chapter 15: Grammar Lessons and Anxiety oh My

Life continued after we tended the graves.

It wasn't that we forgot. Mom certainly didn't with how often she stopped to stare off into space. A simple glance outside often showed the graves and Celia's in particular. Sadness and a feeling of loss like I'd stepped before a gaping hole lingered, but, well, we still had things to do. We needed to eat and sleep eventually, so we did, and fell back into routine.

We ate, we slept, bathed, we checked and harvested from the garden, we played Mom, did repairs, and I had more lessons.

Sometimes there were basic lessons in math I probably knew too well for a kitten my age, other times there were more lessons in writing and grammar.

I stared at the tea green paper and chewed my bottom lip as I thought.

Today, Mom had me working on my letters. Letters here were loosely similar mechanically to the alphabet from my old life, but they had more quirks, particularly context sensitive moments that added extra meaning instead of just sounds. We hadn't quite touched on these yet, but if my old life's logic held true, then a sentence structure might flow similarly enough. "I think…" My hand moved through the letters, drawing the curves out just right to finish each syllable off. "Like this?" I showed Mom the paper.

Mom stopped her own project-tinkering with a big grayish box with a clockwork exterior-to look. Her expression was blank for a moment before abruptly smiling. "That's not quite right, kitten, but you're definitely on the right track. Here, let me show you."

As it turned out, I was not as clever as I thought I had been. In fact, it wasn't even entertainingly wrong like I'd accidentally declared myself "Princess Floppy of the Doodle Kingdom".

Instead, it was just plain old boring. I'd kept the structure and order of verbs from English and applied the same thing here and wrote something out that, in the English equivalent, would be "Are my I Gwen name?"

I will forever deny making growling noises. Perhaps I made some refined noises indicative of a disgruntled mood, but I did not growl.

Mom stretched with audible creaks. "You know, Kitten, I think I need to brush your hair."

"Just a minute, I've almost got this." I never took my eyes off the paper or my charcoal pencil as I tried to better understand sentence structure. It could not be that difficult. It simply couldn't.

Mom hummed. "No," she sang.

Before I knew it, I felt strong claws grab me. I shrieked as we flew across the room in a spin. Then, somehow, I was seated in her lap and she had a brush from somewhere in her soft, fuzzy paws. I had just a few seconds to protest before she went to work and my mind promptly melted in bliss as the brush's stiff bristles did their work.

By the time I regained any awareness that emerged from a state of syrupy happiness, we were sitting by the hearth, and I was cuddled up to Mom. The flames burned steadily, neither too hot nor too cold, giving the entire room a wonderfully cozy feeling.

This coziness, combined with being so close to Mom, feeling both her warmth and her scent, and my instincts were screaming I was in an ideal place for a catnap.

Cold, Mom was so cold, heartbeat so slow, the hearth fading, the wind howling louder and louder, nothing I could do, nothing I could do but sit and wait to…

I didn't quite jolt, but the memory did make eyes shoot open to confirm I was in Mom's lap, the hearth was merrily burning, and everything was fine. I sighed and leaned into Mom's touch as she stroked my hair. Fortunately, she didn't seem to notice my moment as she spoke up.

"Gwen, have you ever thought about things off this island? Places beyond our… home." She placed an odd emphasis on home, as if the word had caught her up for a second.

I wiggled to get a better look at her, and saw she wasn't looking at me, but rather into the gentle flames in the hearth. I tilted my head, ears perked up in interest.

"Back in my homeland, in Illiana, we had great, sweeping forests all around misty mountains on our islands. Trees so big you could have entire homes carved into them and they'd hardly notice. Mountain springs with water so pure it's unbelievable, sometimes water that's already as warm it's like you could take a bath it even when everything else was covered in ice and snow. Winding valleys so green and thick with trees you could wander them for a thousand years and not find every secret they held." As Mom spoke, melancholy seeped into her tone, turning beloved memories into something bitter I could see through her tone alone.

I patted Mom's arm and she smiled.

"But, all that is far away from here. Gwen, this island is so, so tiny, it's unbelievable. It's no place for a girl your age to live, or grow up in. That's why—"

"We're leaving on Sandy soon?" It took considerable effort to keep my tone entirely and obscenely innocent.

Mom's hanging mouth and gobsmacked expression — and smooth furred red ears pointed straight up — told me everything I needed to know.

"How did you know?" Mom finally asked.

I started ticking off my fingers. "You keep sneaking off to talk to Sandy when you think I'm asleep. We've been working on Sandy almost every day for a week. We've stopped foraging almost entirely except for sweet grass from the garden. You've been staring out to sea more and more often. The last time we were onboard you fixed something and did a happy dance saying, 'Yes yes yes thank you yes!'"

I hopped off and proceeded to emulate Mom's happy dance. It involved lots and lots of feet tapping and bouncing in place. I broke into giggles half way through as she had been really, really happy and silly looking.

Mom flushed. "You are far too clever for your own good, you know that?" Despite the situation, she didn't hide the fondness in her voice. "But yes. We are leaving soon. I have been too complacent. You shouldn't have had to grow up so long and nearly alone with only me for company." Mom reached out and hugged me close.

"But aren't you enough?" Memories of another life flitted through my mind.

I couldn't say I had ever been totally alone there. In some ways it was even similar then. I'd lived with my dad, and he'd done his best with mixed results. My mother here in this life didn't blow him out of the water, but I didn't think they could meaningfully compare. They filled different roles in different lives when I'd needed them. Yet, I couldn't deny that my mother in this world fulfilled a closeness I'd never known from him, or really, anyone in my old world.

Mom laughed, but she shook her head. "It's not that. I… things aren't right. I'm not sure they ever will be. There's so much I should be able to give you, but can't. However, the one thing I know for certain is that this island, for all that it has sheltered us, is not a permanent home. We need to get out and find other people. There's no future here." Her words felt oddly grim, near the end.

I listened and understood. Her words made sense. From my old life, I knew the potential here was minute, to say the least. There was no school to learn from, no friends outside my Mom to be made, and few adventures to experience. Chances are even if we could live our whole lives here, the day-to-day experiences would not significantly change outside what I'd already experienced in the five short years I'd been alive. We'd continue until we couldn't, and it was as simple as that.

Yet, for all of that awareness, for all of my understanding of the logic of her words, I couldn't suppress the upwelling of trepidation in me. It began slowly in the tips of my fingers and spread up and down my back, like a swarm of icy beetles crawling in my skin. For all that this place was so, so unbearably small even to me, this was still a home, and all I'd known in this world.

Something in my expression must've given away my thoughts as Mom spoke up. "We'll be fine, Kitten." There was a long pause. "Probably."

"Mama!" I shouted. Her smirk was pure evil.

"Just kidding," she said. Something in her voice caught my attention, but I wasn't quite sure what it was. "Think of it like a new adventure. New land to see, new plants, and hopefully new people, too. Maybe even some girls your age to play with. Doesn't that sound nice?"

I really don't think my look fooled her on the last bit, but to be fair, I didn't try very hard.

Frankly, the last bit sounded awful. I was not remotely certain how to even begin categorizing myself given my memories of another world and another life, but I was fairly certain said memories had well and truly poisoned the well on any patience I might have with other kids my age. Everything else could be okay. That's what I told myself, at least.

Wait, how would adult strangers even view me? I know I didn't act like a normal five-year-old nor did I think I could fake it for any extended length of time. Would I be like one of those creepy kids in fiction who moved and acted nothing like kids should?

I was suddenly struck by the image of myself in a blood stained dress wandering an abandoned hospital and…

Yeah, that was definitely something that'd have unsettled me in my old life. It unsettled me now. I should probably stick to my normal clothes and avoid formal wear.

Still, the possibility of just interacting with other adults other than my mom, heck, just people in general, sunk its hooks into my brain and wouldn't let go. I had Mom to go off of, but what would we even find out there? Would we find Mom's own civilization and move into her ancestral home? Would we be taken in by someone else? Would we find wizards and witches? Grim faced technological barbarians? Peaceful monks seeking enlightenment? Weirdoes in colorful clothes posing against each other?

I had absolutely no idea what was out there. Suddenly, the horizon across the sea felt like a Pandora's Box and I couldn't suppress a burst of anxiety at the idea.

Which…huh, that was nothing new. Anxiety went hand in hand with my old life. I was really wishing it hadn't made the trip here.

Despite my best efforts, my mind raced at the possibilities. I really, really wanted to believe the best, that whatever we did encounter out there, that they'd be nice and welcoming, but that was not how anxiety worked. It only cared for the bad things.

A number of things could easily go wrong. I didn't know exactly what the state of the world was, but the very existence of a warship like Sandy implied a conflict of some scale, or at a minimum threat of war. We could make it landside and immediately be arrested as prisoners of war and thrown in a camp to rot. Maybe Mom's home kingdom of Illiana had lost and a new regime had taken hold and it wouldn't be happy to welcome an old veteran like Mom back. Hell, it could be we make it back and end up in a bureaucratic nightmare as Mom is registered as dead and she legally can't be a person, meaning just getting food might be near impossible in society nevertheless shelter, clothing, and other necessities of life. Just living out of a dirty and poorly insulated shack might be among the better outcomes in this scenario.

I wished my brain would stop. It didn't.

I'd only jokingly broached the very thought of technological barbarians, but what if that wasn't the case? What if we were all that were left and the moment, we made it to land we discovered we had violated sacred laws regarding technology and they executed Mom before dragging me away to be reeducated?

I couldn't help it, the possibilities kept coming to me, seemingly faster and faster, and—

Mom flicked my nose.

I blinked, briefly going cross eyed before glaring at her.

"It'll be fine, sweetie. I'll make sure of it." She said, hugging me close.

For a moment, an utterly glorious moment, my brain shut up and let me believe in her.

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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.

________________________________________

Chapter Fifteen: Author's Note

It's kinda odd to be at this point, well over the tipping point of arc one. Mild spoilers, but we are on the downhill slope here.

Makes me weirdly melancholy. Then again, so do a lot of things in writing, so nothing new there.

---

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

Also I have a discord now! Check it out. I would love to chat with fans. :3

 

[Keksimus]

"It'll be fine, sweetie. I'll make sure of it." She said, hugging me close.

Click to shrink...

oh no

Mild spoilers, but we are on the downhill slope here.

Click to shrink...

Oh no.

 

[MemeKing]

Well the ending of that chapter sounded like foreshadowing.

Besides that, I wonder if Gwen will grow up to be a thicc and/or busty catgirl like she wished from Mr. Muscles.

 

[The Radiance's Follower]

but we are on the downhill slope here.

Click to shrink...

Is society cooked ?

 

[HiddenMaster]

Is society cooked ?

Click to shrink...

i was more referring to the end of arc one.

 

[HiddenMaster]

Chapter 16: Proof We Were Here

The days continued inexorably. Work continued on the ship. I didn't see all of it. I couldn't see all of it. When I woke, Mom was already up tending to her tools for our now daily trip to Sandy. When I went to bed, Mom stayed up later tinkering with parts, reading dizzying technical manuals and more. Sometimes we stayed so late I fell asleep onboard and Mom carried me home in the dark.

When we were awake, Mom worked. When I was asleep, Mom worked. When I ate, Mom worked. When I was let out to play and run around to make my own fun chasing bugs and stuff in the nearby dead woods, Mom worked. Bags grew under her eyes like purple flowers. I wanted to help more, but I couldn't.

I just couldn't keep up. I was too slow and too small. For every step I took, Mom could take four. For every little thing I could carry and help her with, Mom could do thrice or more.

In some ways, it was like Mom was always waiting for me, held up as she tried to do the work of a hundred trained sailors all on her own while caring for me.

Not for the first time, I wondered if Mom thought I was a normal five year old, or if my old life's knowledge shined through? Did she ever wonder if something was genuinely wrong with me?

I found myself wondering if she ever had any resentment over me slowing her down or being different, but I strangled that thought in its crib for the nonsense it was.

It was moot. In my old life, I knew nothing about ships and engineering. The most I could do here was sit and draw on an old water damaged notebook with a charcoal pencil while she sat and tried to work on a machine that I knew for damn certain would be easier to work on in a workshop on Sandy with a proper clamp.

Maybe, at best, I could hold tools and hand them to her. That was it.

Mom was never going to admit I was a liability, so it came down to me. Mom never left me alone unless I was solidly asleep behind reinforced stonework and steel, but I'd be deluding myself if I thought I was helping at this point.


I set my pencil down with a loud clack and wiped my smudged fingers on my worn out pants, mind made up.

When she looked up, I pounced. Metaphorically, anyways. "Mama? I can stay here," I finally suggested. "I won't leave. I'll do my chores."

Mom stared at me with perked ears and surprised eyes. "Why would you say that? I love having you with me." Despite her words, I noticed a small twitch as she said that. It wasn't a lie at all, but I could tell something in her had turned over my offer with interest.

"But you'd do more if I wasn't there, right? You gotta fix Sandy. I'm sure she'd like that," I said.

Mom was quiet for a long time. Her tail was still. A month ago, I don't think she would have said yes. But, things were different now, and Mom was in a hurry. I didn't know why we had to leave now, just that she thought we had to.

Time stretched on as she thought it over. It got to the point I thought she was going to tell me no, she spoke. "I — do you promise to stay here? Don't mess with the stove or anything? Just, work on your letters and words, or draw on the old notebooks?"

"I promise." It was an easy promise, if one that left me feeling as if a weight had been strapped to my shoulders.

I wanted to be there. Life with Mom here was something I'd never expected, but it was wholly new to me. The mere act of having a mother was novel, something I'd only dreamed of in my life before. To be able to enjoy it now…

This wasn't even to say the new part of my brain that always, always wanted to be nearby mom, to hide in her shadow where it was safe.

I would give so, so very much to keep this life going. Yet, I was still too young. In some ways, nothing had changed from when I first woke up in this world. I was still a powerless little kitten whose saving grace was that I could at least walk now compared to the literal infant I'd started as.

Eventually, and only reluctantly after much reassurances, promises, reminders of safety, and informing me of where the food was for snacks that we both already knew the location of, Mom left, gently closing the door behind her.

The quiet that settled over our home was oddly mundane. I listened, but even with my improved hearing I couldn't pick up much, if anything, past the thick door. At some point, I got tired of listening to nothing. I laid on the floor and stared at the ceiling for a long while, thinking and holding my tail.

At some point, I stood, letting my arms dangle by my sides as I pivoted.

I walked into a side room deeper in the citadel. It was a place we barely used, and to my knowledge, hadn't even been used when there were people here all that much. It had ancient crates lining the walls. All were empty or full of dust. I pushed a few out of the way until I cleared a nice, smooth section of wall, and pulled out a piece of flint I grabbed on our last foraging trip. I then set to work.

The sketch took a while. I was out of practice for this level of detail Or had I ever been in practice in this life? My claws were only just getting used to the motions of drawing, so it was rough. I had to stop and start over a few times, on a different patch of wall. Still, I managed with a more stylized look than pure realism.

Soon enough, I had Mom drawn. Her curly hair was a challenge. I also cheated by not drawing hands. I then added myself next to her. Then, on her other side, I drew a girl I'd never met. She had hair like me, and a slightly different outfit, red instead of my blue. I gave her a matching clamshell necklace, just like mine.

I like to imagine we'd have been good friends. Maybe we'd have run through the woods chasing birds and daring each other higher and higher up the tallest trees. We'd have learned our first letters together, our first runes, together. Perhaps we'd have competed and tried to see who was faster, stronger, smarter. Running up and down the halls of the Sea Fort, down the beaches, darting between the old gray trunks of the dead woods as we played tag. Maybe we'd have been in eternal harmony, always supportive. Or constantly bickering over small things but instantly at each other's side when someone tried to mess with us.

When we left this tiny, tiny island, we'd have gone on a new adventure in a new land with Mom there to guide us, teach us to sail, to hunt, to play, to do every one of a few thousand little things expected in any society. We could've grown up together, made best friends, always supported one another. Maybe I'd have been the cool aunt to her kids and vice versa.

I saw a thousand and one different ways our lives could have intertwined. Yet, it would never happen. All those possibilities snuffed out before I'd even become aware.

I lived. She didn't.

Above the tallest one, I wrote Mama. Above my sketch, I wrote Gwen. And above the other girl who I never got to meet, I wrote Celia.

On the side, I left a message in English. It was funny how simultaneously difficult yet easily the words came. It felt less like I was out of practice and more I was drawing them from a deep well the words stubbornly clung to. Sometimes my grasp on the written words slipped and the bucket went down below, but I was patient and never stopped pulling.

Eventually, they came back to me, like old friends. I wrote my message to the side. I didn't bother providing a translation. Just someone seeing it would be enough for me.

Proof that we were here.

Once I was done, I pushed boxes back into place around the room. These were old even before I'd lived here. Some sagged or broke apart, weakened by time, but that was fine. I doubted Mom would even think to check in here, but even if she did, it was fine. I could just say I wanted to draw and I'd be telling the truth. Besides, she'd said so herself: we were leaving soon.

By the time Mom came back hours later absolutely covered in grease and stumbling with exhaustion, I had filled out another twenty pages of odd doodles and sketches. Mom made dinner, then collapsed in exhaustion. But this was not before bodily grabbing me as she stumbled to bed. I was okay being a teddy bear, just this once.

Three days and nights later, I woke up to morning light to see Mom packing.

"It's time to go."

~~~
​

Actually leaving was shockingly mundane. It wasn't an exact match given the very different locales, but ultimately was similar to what my old life said moving entailed. I.e., it involved lots of boxes and walking back and forth for hours. Mom did most of the heavy lifting, but at some point Sandy got involved and started lowering and raising a crane that still worked which made things far easier.

Somehow, I was a bit disappointed.

"I think that's it," Mom said, putting our things and remaining food onboard. While Sandy had space belowdecks aplenty and likely intended spaces, we had put almost everything in or near the bridge. I guessed Mom wanted to keep things simple for when we left.

Nearby, a tube extending from the deck along the wall of the island suddenly sputtered and hissed with static. I yowled and jumped straight up, hair on end. A multifaceted gem lit up with a flickering light that slowly stabilized into Sandy's eye.

"And got it! Um, excuse me, can you hear me?"

Mom laughed as I huffed in embarrassment before staring at the tube suspiciously. "Loud and clear, Sandy. Seems you've been busy too?"

"To the extent I can. There's far too much damage for me to fix even with optimal power and regenerative feedback, particularly in hard components. My body would need a full overhaul in drydock, but I was able to reroute a few things to get the voice tubes working again." Sandy's voice was morose as she described the damage, but brightened at the end to the point her voice made me think of sunshine and daisies.

A thought occurred to me. "Does it hurt?"

"P-pardon?"

"Being damaged like, well, this." I gestured everywhere to the signs of rust, gouges in metal, and more scattered everywhere. I know it was everywhere too, not just the upper levels, and there was probably more damage on the hull, although maybe it was okay?

"Wouldn't all these scratches be like the time I scraped my arm up reaching for a crab in a crevice?" That had been an utterly nasty experience, too. Big bastard had fought me tooth and claw in his little sea side hole and my arm got caught on coral, resulting in me pulling too hard and scraping off chunks of skin. Mom had been aghast and instantly babied me, but we ate well that night.

"Gwen, that's-" Mom began, only for Sandy to interrupt.

"It's okay, Eliza. She's curious and I have nothing to hide from her." Sandy's tone was chiding, yet rapidly shifted to a more thoughtful voice as her eye focused on me. " I wouldn't call my state comfortable, but it's tolerable. I don't feel pain like you do — not normally, at any rate, and while the damage is unpleasant and... upsetting, to put it mildly, I can hold it together until we reach the mainland."


"I see." I pretended to nod while wondering if Sandy was lying because I was five and telling a child "my body is wrapped in the flames of agony" is generally just not done.

Mom clapped her hands. "Okay, Gwen? Come with me to the bridge. Don't touch anything without my permission, got it?"

"Yes, Mama." I dutifully followed, intending to be obedient this time around. There was a time for play, and a time for serious Gwen Face. This was serious Gwen Face Time.

Outside a ship's wheel, the bridge was dominated by consoles and walls utterly covered in buttons, dials, and far more gear whose function I had no idea. Heck, some had been installed or replaced by Mom with me watching and I still had no idea what they did beyond "assist in ship navigation".

There was no way I was going to touch anything there. For all I knew, twisting even one dial slightly to the left out of place would cause the ship to explode. It probably wouldn't as that'd be a very strange dial function, but I couldn't know for certain.

From up in the bridge, I…couldn't actually see much. I was too short. Mom snorted as I pouted at the cracked windows and gestured to a nearby chair bolted before a console that gave a view of the cracked windows I hadn't considered.

I had just turned to hop on the chair when a tube to my right hissed with static. I yelped.

Again.

"Apologies, Gwen. I'm still working on the static," Sandy said to me. I tried to be mad at her and just couldn't. How the hell did a 2000 ton ship managed to be cheerful butterflies and sunshine, I had no idea, but it melted any attempts to be huffy with her. "Eliza, I have finished my diagnostic of the engines and I believe I can get the ship running at 20% power. For a short time, at least."

"Good to hear. How's the rest of your control over the ship?"

Sandy's staticky voice was filled with unhappiness. "Marginal. I understand given the circumstances it's amazing, but I am far behind optimal performance and without — well, a crew to take up most tasks, my focus will be primarily on maintaining the mana reactor and engine systems. I can assist you in aiming south, but that is about all."

"That's all we can do, Sandy," Mom said, patting a console consolingly. "Go ahead and fire up the engines to what power you can manage, propeller in reverse. We're getting out of here."

"Very well, Captain Mor."

"I told you, just call me Eliza" Mom didn't look up, already trained on the navigation equipment. She handed me a pair of binoculars. "Once we're out to sea, you'll help by looking into the distance. Remember what I said about binoculars and the sky?"

"Never ever look at the sun', I know, Mama." My old life had avoided that pitfall nicely despite a surprising amount of eye strain, and I was not eager to break the trend of functional eyes in this life.

Sandy cleared her non-existent throat. I had to blink. "Do you even have to do that?"

Sandy's eye zeroed on me and glanced to the side. Was she emoting? If so, it was appreciated. "Er, no, not technically, but I have found it helps put people at ease sometimes and I like to?" Sandy said awkwardly. "Anyway, Eliza, I was going to ask. I can detect the ship's bow is still lightly encased in sediment. When were you intending to clear that out? It might take some time and cause further strain if we try to dislodge purely using ship propulsion."

"Oh, I have that handled. Gwen, cover your ears." Mom took out a small, dull metal and rune encrusted switch.

Panic overtook me as I managed to recognize the symbols. The "never ever touch these" symbols. I ducked and shoved my hands over my folded ears. Mom ran a finger along the runes and they lit up before a sigil rapidly counting down.

"Wha—"

Thunder rocked the ship and air roared. The entire ship lurched backwards.

My ears rang.

"What the bloody abyss was that?" Sandy screamed over the voice tube, hissing with static and pops.

"A small amount of explosives to dislodge your bow."

"Are you insane? You could have damaged my hull, and any amount of labor could have—"

"I'd calculated everything out. Besides, you were really stuck there in the sediment pretty deep. I wouldn't have been able to break you out without a lot more effort."

Sandy was quiet for a moment before she finally broke the silence.

"Oh dear gods you are actually my acting captain."

________________________________________
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.

________________________________________

Chapter 16 Author's Note

Bit melancholy, but the moment of departure has finally arrived. Also Eliza is an absolute gremlin.

Also, the scene of Gwen drawing on the sea fort wall is another one I think I might commission one of these days when I have the time. Even have a name for it:

"What Could Have Been".

---

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
Also I have a discord now! Check it out. I would love to chat with fans. :3

 

[The Radiance's Follower]

Time to leave. The explosion probably attracted the monster lurking in these waters. It's going to be a race against time or hoping for another miracle.

 

[vladspellbinder]

Sorry Sandy, but I don't think there are any gods to hear your plea. The vote is still out on what Golden Pawprints is. Deities are not the only thing that will respond to prayer after all.

I wish them as smooth sailing as they can have on a damaged ship. Looking forward to seeing what the rest of the world is like after The Event and all this time.

Thanks for the chapter.

 

[HiddenMaster]

Chapter 17: Departure

Mom's only response to Sandy's irate remarks was to smile and continue adjusting the controls. Deep from within the ship, I didn't hear so much as felt Sandy's body came to life. Machinery I'd never once heard or seen active came to life with a brief, sluggish pause that soon turned into a dull rumbling like the deep breathing of a giant I sniffed the air, and the faint oddly minty smell of the magic I now knew was Sandy intensified. Slowly, ever so slowly, the ship began to move.

I decided not to overly question Mom's use of explosives for the moment, mostly because I wanted her to teach me about them later. Instead, I voiced a different thought.

"Mama? How were you going to turn the ship and get the engines started if we hadn't woken Sandy up?"

"Yes, Captain Mor. How were you planning that?" Sandy's voice was cutting with a slight sarcastic edge which I found entirely reasonable. Mom had after all used explosives without her permission to free her.

Mom didn't say anything. If anything, her smile became fixed as she stared out over the bridge windows.

"...were you going to run down to the engine room and then run back up and go back and forth sprinting until we were already going?" I asked.

"Wow, I can't believe we're finally leaving, huh Gwen?"

I rolled my eyes as hard as I could at Mom's honestly sad dodging.

The ship shuddered as the engines deep below coughed but soon smoothed out, rumbling through the deck.

I stood, suddenly anxious. The ship was slow to exit the estuary as Mom guided it delicately out to sea. The motion of the ship was weird to my sense of balance but not unpleasant. Mom and Sandy talked, mostly concerning engine output and adjustments to the ship navigation that went over my head, although I could tell progress was being made.

Despite myself, I found myself twitchy and hyper alert. Every motion of the ship had my ears twitching and tail flicking. The ship's machinery that had once been inert 95% of the time I was on board was on and humming, chugging, and groaning throughout the hull. Although humming might have been a stretch, given some of the machinery sounded like it was in pain.

"Gwen? Would you like to watch from my shoulders?" Mom asked.

I shook my head. Behind us was the only home I'd known in this world. In my old life, I'd have been teary and whimsical at leaving a beloved family home, but here? I'd said goodbye already.

I didn't have all of the pieces yet. I'm sure Mom didn't think I was old enough, but I knew enough to say with certainty the island had saved both our lives. For that, it had my thanks, but it was time to leave and not look back.

Mom dabbed my eyes with a dry rag and I once more cursed my rebellious body. I was then hoisted up in Mom's arms. "Sandy? Can you keep the ship on a southward heading?"

"Of course," Sandy chirped. "You will need to return for some finer course corrections, but I can manage at least this much."

We stepped out onto the ship bow. I was taken aback at the sight. The island, a lumpy mix of browns and greens albeit mostly browns stretched out like a long C, already looked so, so small. It'd always felt big to me, but here there was just so… little, to it now. I could still see the citadel, but it was little more than a whitish yellow blur in the distance.

"It's okay to be sad, Gwen. You say goodbye to every home eventually. It's a chance for a new start," Mom said.

I didn't respond. Instead, we watched the island fade away until it became barely visible, little more than a speck. All the while, I felt odd, a mix of sadness, nostalgia, and relief going through me as the island retreated from sight. Yet, there was another feeling building up as well.

"Feel better?" Mom asked.

"Mama, I'm—"

Whatever I was going to say died as I promptly threw up all over Mom's clothes.

There was a long, awkward silence.

"You're seasick, aren't you?"

I nodded, feeling queasy.

Mom sighed. "Let's get you cleaned up. I think I have some medicine for this…"

~~~
​

As it turned out, Mom did have medication, and it was the good stuff.

I giggled and swung in my chair. The rusted shrieks it made as it spun me made it even better until Mom forcibly stopped the spinning screaming chair ride. I pouted but got distracted by my hands. I marveled at how human like they were but the fine fuzz all over them that I just couldn't resist rubbing all over my face. Mom looked up and sighed before going back to the steering.

It'd just been half a little green pill. Mom had even said the dosage should be fine. And it so, so was. I felt great! Like I was flying!

"I swear, it was just half a pill? Is it because she's so young?"

"Acting Captain Mor—"

"It's Eliza."

"Yes Captain Mor," Sandy said in a scratchy voice that just made me want to head pat her orb and put it to bed. "I suspect giving a child even that much of the cure-all tablets was not a good idea. I am hardly an expert in medicine, but I believe, given the state of production at the time of our departure, the cure-all pill may not have been alchemically imbued with as much moon root extract as intended."

"Oh—" Mom proceeded to try to launch into what I recognized as her favorite curse word she'd never translated for me, only to at the last second glance at my utterly focused gaze and finish with a lame "drat" instead.

That was disappointing. It was disappointing enough that I decided to take action. "[Fucking shit!]" I giggled, causing Mom's ears to swivel to me in confusion, which only made me giggle more. If she only knew the utter treasure trove of curse worlds I knew from my memories of another life.

There was a long silence.

"What fascinating vocabulary to teach your daughter, Captain Mor."

"Shut it," Mom said, holding her face. Interestingly, I noticed she didn't take her eyes off the controls or stop scanning the horizon.

Sandy cleared her non-existent throat again. What a silly ship girl thing. "As I was saying, I suspect reallocation of resources and wartime quotas may have resulted in, shall we say, adulterations to the standard issued medication given the shortage of moon root extract and instead substituted a common and unrestricted mind-altering substance to supplement its otherwise lackluster effects. It's possible such an adulterated pill slipped quality control when brought into the infirmary in routine shipments at our last port stop."

"...I just gave my daughter her first taste of nip."

"Quite. Fortunately, nothing too dangerous, so this is probably the best result. She just feels really happy right now. And, if I may add, is utterly adorable."

I puffed up my cheeks at Sandy's voice tube. I was not adorable! I threw an empty little box at her tube. It made it about halfway across the room. I pretended not to hear the stifled giggles from the ship.

Mom let out an explosive sigh. "Wonderful. Just wonderful."

"If it makes you feel better, I imagine she probably would have had some notable reaction regardless, given the pills are not meant for children."

"I get it, just… I didn't even think sea sickness would be a problem. I haven't been seasick in years, but I remember the ship's medicine solving that issue fast. Honestly, I guess it makes sense. She's never even been on anything more than a swim in the estuary. Being out at sea probably did a number on her stomach."

I was suddenly annoyed by how tall Mom was. I wanted to head pat her ears!

I made vague grabby hands in the air, eventually prompting Mom to reach down for me. Ha, she activated my trap card!

I tried to pull her down and miserably failed. So I responded by leaping up and rapidly crawled up her back like a real cat! But not a monkey. I was no stinky human anymore!

I saw Mom tilting her head with a bemused smile. "And what do you think you're doing back there, young lady?"

"Pets!" I proceeded to try petting Mom's hair with one hand. I nearly fell off, and she caught me easily. I was then sat down in the chair again.

"Stay there, sweetie. We will be at this for a little while."

"Okaaay," I said, kicking my feet.

I stayed there for a while or seconds, plotting ways to head pat Mom and figure out how to head pat Sandy for being a silly ship girl thing. Then my thoughts wandered to trains and how I really wanted to ride one because I never got a chance to in my old life and choo choo sounded fun. Then I was distracted by a cloud.

Oh, I was up now? That's neat. I didn't even notice the back and forth of the ship at this point. Ha, this sea thing made total sense.

It occurred to me that I would probably be mortified at my behavior later, but that was Future Me's problem, so I'd let her deal with that. Mom and Sandy started talking and it was stuff I felt I should be interested in about the sea conditions and distance they had to go, but it seemed so utterly boring and my hands were very fuzzy.

I was fascinated by my fuzzy fingers for a long while as I slowly touched the fuzz on my hand, touched my face, giggled, and repeated.

Suddenly, I remembered I had a tail! It must be chased.

After an appropriate amount of chasing, I found myself on the deck. Not too far from the bridge, so Mom probably wouldn't be too mad about it.

I didn't quite skip to the railing as that would be undignified and I don't think I was coordinated enough to manage that right now. But I did put in an effort!

I leaned over, staring at the waves below jostled by Sandy's wake cutting through the water, and-

There was a woman in the water.

It was so incongruous at first that I blinked thinking I'd imagined it. Yet, the more I looked at it, the more real it became. A woman's face — and a beautiful woman at that — was in the water, eyes serenely closed and hair spreading out behind her. I then noticed her ears. They weren't feline. They were much more human-like, elfin even.

I couldn't see the rest of her body in the water below; just her face, strangely at peace with the world.

Her eyes opened. Lovely deep blue orbs latched onto mine.

For a brief moment that came and went like lightning, I felt unease with the situation for a reason I couldn't quite pinpoint, but like a flash the worry was lost in a sea of curiosity. I needed…

She mouthed words, but I couldn't make out what she said, nor read her lips. Yet, I felt as if it was important and that meaning was just at the edge of understanding Moreover, I knew I could trust her, that everything would be alright. If I was just closer, past the railing, I could—

I needed to get closer.

Mechanically, I began climbing over the railing. It was a bit difficult given my body didn't quite want to obey and the railing was made with adults in mind. Something about the whole situation really seemed off to me, but I had to get closer so I could understand her. I finally managed to climb over it as I heard a muffled…something, in the distance.

Probably not too important, but it sounded an awful lot like Mom, and…

I sniffed the air. What…when had Sandy's scent gotten so… fishy and sweet? Disgustingly sweet, like the worst candies with a chemical taste in my old life?

I blinked, twice for good measure. What was I doing? It was at that moment that I truly saw.

Below, a mass of shadows shifted in the water. Multiple long, and sinuous armored limbs that reminded me of a great spider rising from the depths around the woman's unchanging and suddenly far colder face.

I screamed.

The spikes moved. The ship jerked sharply. I teetered on the edge and fell back.

An armored spike rocketed through the space I'd been moments before. Thick as a great oak's main branch, this close I could see the hard plates interlaced rather than formed a uniform whole, grown over some fleshy, gray limb. It moved with a strange, organic sound, muscles shifting beneath the carapace.

I wanted to run.

I couldn't.

I wanted to scream again.

I couldn't.

Warmth bloomed and trickled down my leg for the first time in over a year.

Then Mom was there and I was in her arms.

I didn't know how. This must've been seconds. She dived beneath the searching thing and then we were moving. I felt the wind howl passed my hair. An explosion rang out from the sea. Something roared, a surprisingly high pitched, near feminine sound that I only belatedly realized wasn't one voice, but many echoing in unison. A hatch opened, closed, and we were in Sandy's body as the ship swallowed the light. I was placed down in a room full of heavy vests. I clung to her, but she let me go.

"Kitten, stay here. Hide under the armor vests. Mama has to go fight now, but I will be back." Her voice was worried but comforting before finishing in a snarl. I saw her fangs were all fully bared, perhaps even grown more than I had ever seen. Anger in her visibly burned as veins slowly lit up in her arms with a soft blue light that pulsed in time with her heartbeat.

I felt afraid of her for the first time. I still tried to cling to her. Her expression broke, and she looked away. She didn't say anything, gripping her orange fuzzed hands into tight fists. Blood dripped past her knuckles as claw-like tips dug in and dripped below to the deck. "I'm sorry." The hatch slammed shut behind her, leaving me alone in the room.

I stared at the shut door illuminated only by dim red light strips on the ceiling. Overhead, tremendous impacts rang out and the sea roared before settling out into an unnatural stillness only broken by Sandy's gentle hum of machinery below decks. A strange, indescribable scent filtered into my awareness that had my hair stand up.

Something in the corner of my eye moved.

"Please, no." My voice was barely a whisper. I shut my eyes tight and shuddered. I pretended everything was fine. I pretended I was fine.

I wasn't.

---

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.

---

Chapter 17 Author's Note

Oh dear, there's been something lurking in the sea all this time. Wonder how that got there?

Won't lie, that thing went through a lot of basic designs and just kept getting more creepy with each iteration. Same with this chapter overall, really. Lots of things I had to figure out or adjust, particularly with the catnip scene.

On broader isekai things, I've seen a lot of isekai novels and even intended deconstructions/parodies jump straight into life threatening situations. Setups where Jonh McNormal Dude suddenly kills his first goblin, or survives a monster attack that serves to inform him the setting is dangerous but it's treated more as a "Shit" moment in the same vein as, "Shit, my tire's flat".

Not, "oh my god something is genuinely trying to kill me". This is absolutely not to say some fics don't handle the psychological impacts of life threatening danger on someone who's never experienced it, it's just a lot seem to be so eager to get to the plot that they forget the small things-just the potential of danger-can do a lot to a person.

So, the latter half of this chapter was written with that hovering in the back of my head.

---

Obligatory author's plug because I'd love to write more but society sadly says I need monies to keep living:

Support me on Patreon, Ko Fi, or Subscribe Star. Check them out for advance chapters including the entire remainder of Arc One!. Or check out my website for links to my other author accounts, contact, socials, etc.

Also I have a discord now! Check it out. I would love to chat with fans. :3

---

 

[Roncy4]

Very spooktacular!

 

[Jon0278955]

Great story

 

[The Radiance's Follower]

"...I just gave my daughter her first taste of nip."

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Let's give cat daughter some drugs. That will help her. :3

I know Catnip is not addictive to cats. but I wonder if cat people can get psychologically addicted to it.

That boat is cooked. they couldn't killed it with a full team. This is how the story ends. cats made into fish food :c

 

[HiddenMaster]

Let's give cat daughter some drugs. That will help her. :3

I know Catnip is not addictive to cats. but I wonder if cat people can get psychologically addicted to it.

That boat is cooked. they couldn't killed it with a full team. This is how the story ends. cats made into fish food :c

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Everything in arc two is just lengthy fish descriptions. Maybe an occasional crab.