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Story: A Soul to Protect
I would like to give a big shoutout to the wonderfulsensitivity readerswho helped to make this book a safe place for those I am trying to positively represent. As you all know, representation is a big part of what I want to do, but I want to do so in a way that isn’t harmful.
Thank you to Susan, Marcella, Emily, Sue, Charna, and Amanda for your contribution towards Asian sensitivity.
Thank you to Rosie, Jonah, Kay, and Rebecca for your contribution towards disability sensitivity.
I would also like to give a special thank you to Crystal for your contribution towards BIPOC, disability, and overall sensitivity.
I appreciate all the time and effort you put into helping me with this book. You will forever have a place in my heart.
Curled up at the bottom of his lake, Nathair attempted to ignore his creator’s bellowing.Leave me be.
The gills on both sides of his neck opened and closed, yet he couldn’t perceive the comforting flow of water easing in and out of them. His lungs, which usually expanded and compressed on land, were still as oxygen entered his bloodstream from the capillaries connected to his gills.
Then again, if he so chose it, his lungs could have remained still within Tenebris. Much like missing the comforting flow of water, he breathed on the land within the afterworld to attempt a sense of normality.
Normality he was never given – until the abnormality had become life. Until it was all he knew.
“Nathair!” Weldir yelled once more, likely standing next to Nathair’s flat lazing rock.
He just rolled his head before burrowing beneath the coil of his tail even further to block him out. Hopefully Weldir didn’t come to stand under the water as if it didn’t exist, since he’d done that a few times with his hands on his hips to showvexation at Nathair’s antics.
Why must he insist on speaking with me when it is obvious I do not wish to?Were those not the actions of a foolishly insane being? To repeatedly do something, to persist over centuries, despite the result never changing?
Nathair was tired of repeated conversations. He was exhausted of learning about the outside world beyond Weldir’s soul-confining stomach. What use was there in sharing with Nathair the new thing the deity had discovered?
The world suddenly came out from under him as he was sucked to the surface against his will. Nathair clawed at the dirt to keep himself beneath the surface, only to be dumped on land seconds later. Droplets didn’t stick to his scales, but rather dragged off him when he was unwillingly forced from the lake.
In a rapid strike, he orientated himself, spun to Weldir, and hissed. Two fangs, long and once deadly, fell from the roof of his maw. His lower jaw segments split in the middle, revealing the patch of flesh that kept them together.
Weldir, the little shit, bashed the bottom of his chalky fist against the top of Nathair’s skull so hard he was sent hurdling to the ground.
“Don’t hiss at me, you ill-mannered snake,” Weldir growled.
Opening and closing his maw, Nathair mocked him by pretending to speak as he lifted himself on straightened arms. With his orbs an angry crimson, his tail slithered underneath his body until he was able to support his humanoid torso. Then Nathair threw his arms to the side, silently asking what he wanted.
All the while, Nathair ignored the chatter in the back of his mind – dozens of voices that refused to relent. The cause of his lack of voice, the screams that overshadowed his own. The mess of memories that tangled with the few he knew belonged to him.
Some moments, his will to hold them back was strong. If he went without a long rest, they broke through the metaphorical barrier of his will, and ate him alive. Which, given the fact he rarely slept, was quite often.
He’d been suffering a sleepless life for what felt like eons.
Weldir, a cloudy version of himself with a chalky centre, glared at him. Nearing Weldir’s usual eight-foot height, they saw eye to orb. Staring into Weldir’s black eyes, that didn’t show a single bit of white nor iris, had once been daunting. They were like voids, an abyss that stared back at him, threatening to suck Nathair into their dark depths.
Now, they just irked him.
“Good,” Weldir stated, nodding his head in approval. “I can see you’re lucid today.”
Lucid? Rarely. His mind was never stable, and even now it threatened to weakly collapse.I wish he would hurry. I need more rest.
After teasing Aleron, his silly sibling, he’d used up his rare lucidity to...playwith him. He chuckled every time he remembered. Although he was sure Aleron would be rather annoyed for quite some time, it was one of the few new memories he’d obtained in Tenebris that wasn’t soaked in boredom or a haze.
He’d forever cherish it.
An image flashed within Nathair’s grip on his sight, and he winced at the blur of it speeding past. Once quiet, a scream bombarded his senses. He managed to swiftly wrangle it back where it belonged – in his subconscious.
Noticing some kind of tell, even though Nathair hadn’t moved a muscle, Weldir sighed.
“I wish I could give you back your voice,” Weldir grumbled, remaining unmoving as well. He didn’t often move, as if theurge only came consciously, rather than an instinctual muscle reaction like every other living creature.
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