Chapter 8 No Man Is an Island
Datu
“How are you feeling, my brother?”
I cannot see, but I know Sateva is guarded. Watchful. She knows I will never hurt nor harm her. She thinks I will hurt the humans she brought to me. She may think me heartless, but I will never kill anyone who has kept me alive.
“I am reflecting on everything that has occurred.” I reply.
I hear her shift closer toward me. “It has been chaotic, yes?”
I almost chuckle at this. The irony of it.
It is no exaggeration at all. I cannot remember how long it has been since the humans first found Esoterra and ruined the peace.
A peace I have built to protect my sister and her people alone.
I can never understand humans and their earthly impulses to dismantle everything they encounter.
“I know chaos. This is not it. This is needless, greedy destruction—one I can immediately put an end to.”
“Datu, please,” she sighs. “Sometimes I cannot tell what is truth or jest with you anymore.”
Though unable to see clearly, the ring of light in the sky—the one they call sun—is completely gone. Xiaoyu and I had reveled in the majestic sight of the blanket of stars I cannot see in this form.
Crickets, cicadas begin to sing their song—sounds most-soothing to me, but it is nothing compared to Xiaoyu’s voice. For some reason, I found her telling me the story of a creature named Chiron very endearing.
“I do not know what you see in these humans, Sateva.”
“They are not all bad. They are just like us—”
“Do not compare me to humans.” My voice comes like a whip.
“You. You say as if you are much different than us. Better than us.” I hear the mocking tone in her voice.
A feeling of disappointment settles in my gut, heavy. I do not regret my words since they are true. I am different. I could have stated it in a less aggressive manner.
Something trembles inside me, the emptiness snarling louder. My tongue runs over my sharp teeth. I am dreading what this change in body means. It is the price for a corporeal form, to subject myself to constant change along with the others.
This change, however, feels…distinct. Purposeful. It makes me grind my new set of teeth together.
“I apologize, but the fact still remains…” I do not know how to say it without sounding egotistical—a very human trait I despise.
“The fact still remains that you are a good brother, and you will do anything for me.” Her hand sweeps over my arm. “And what I ask is to not harm the humans.”
“You cared not for the humans before. You have changed, Sateva.”
“I have evolved, yes. You should do the same.”
I prick my thumb with my teeth, seeing it ooze with a bright violet liquid. I know because the wind tells me. “I already have.” My entrapment must have forced this body to shift.
“Not just your physical form. What good is a sound mind if it cannot comprehend alternate beliefs?”
I smile lightly and nod my head, not because I agree, but because I just want the conversation to be over.
“Where is Lin?”
It is Sateva’s human, Ingar. Lin, he calls her. He had just walked back from digging up my land and was looking for Xiaoyu. Something in my skin bristles, alert. I cannot believe she had slipped my mind. The woman is so quiet that it’s so easy to miss her absence.
“Xiaoyu,” I called out but realized she cannot hear me.
Apprehension leaks through my pores as I stand and survey the clearing.
I’m frustrated at my limited sight in this form, but the leaves tell me she has slipped into the woods.
Night has fallen, and the dark here leaves humans vulnerable to the things in the forest.
Sateva groans as I see her shadow fall to the ground.
“Teva!” Ingar drops everything he carries to scramble toward my sister.
She is starving once again. I can hear her stomach bellow for sustenance. I feel utterly helpless to Sateva’s affliction.
“Datu, find her. Please.” She pleads.
“He’s fucking blind, Teva.”
“No, he’s not…” Hysteria makes her scream and cackle. “Please, I just want to be okay.”
She is right. I can see if I want. I cannot stand hearing my sister slowly succumbing to a madness caused by me.
“I will find her and make things better. I swear.”
Without another sound, I slip into the shadows, embracing my original form.
If this form could talk, it’s a snarling beast clamoring to be fed.
It has always been like this, an endless pit of insatiability.
The trees become the crown of my head. I do not need eyes, I see everything in me.
On me. I know them to the very atom of their being.
My mouths, millions of them, lick the air for the human. Through this distorted reality, I cannot remember her name. I only know she is the one who can end the people’s suffering.
There’s a rattle in my hair, a follicle, a nit. A gecko insane, lonely enough to mate someone who is not meant for them. My gut shudders, and I open my mouths, inhaling him before it can molest the anomaly he chased.
In my gullet, it fights its way down, but my throat constricts. It breaks the gecko like a twig, the rows of carnassials rolling over the corpse like sharp chains. It plunges into my chasm, curdling, melting as soon as it hits the acid.
The anomaly runs, but she keeps tripping over my roots. I am attempting to catch her, to keep her still before she hurts herself, but she only fights harder. She slashes my vines with a knife, falling backwards until an ankle snaps. She howls in pain but continues to evade my hold.
I am…impressed. Not even the human males acted, protected themselves as efficiently as she did. She doesn’t scream. In fact, she barely makes a sound as she fights me off in my original form.
It takes me a while to realize that she thinks of me as a threat right now. She needs a familiar form. A familiar face. As soon as I change, she falls into my arms, babbling incoherently. I cannot see her right now, but I know her eyes spill with tears. I sweep them away with my thumbs.
“You shouldn’t be here, Xiaoyu.”
She curls herself around me. “Please, get me out of here.”
Something is inside my chest. A weight, a presence pushing down hearing her weak, raspy voice.
Without another sound, I pick her up and her broken glasses.
The trees tell me she is hurt—her legs bent at an irregular angle.
My vines seek to comfort her, curling themselves around her limbs.
They cradle her as the solid ground purrs in displeasure.
It is unusual to me—for the earth to be so tender to somebody.
The night envelopes us, and starflies light our way to my abode. I am being led by my creatures. The journey is fraught with constrictors, panthers hunting for prey. After seeing what I did to the gecko, they knew better than to touch Xiaoyu.
She shivers in my arms, oblivious to the detached vine that wrapped itself around her broken ankle—holding it in place. The trees give way and before I know it, we have arrived.
The grass meet the soles of my feet, its dew absent.
It cracks under my weight and it is painful to hear.
All is dry. From the soil, barks decaying and peeling to the thinning canopy of leaves.
They scream of thirst, of sustenance I can barely provide.
I have been imprisoned so long that I have abandoned my dwelling.
My vision is gradually returning, and I see enough to know my platform is swathed with yellowing moss and vines. Like me, their only reprieve from the heat is the night. At least now, they can rest.
Xiaoyu makes a noise in my arms. For a moment, I am unsure how to ensconce her. I have never brought a woman here—let alone a human. I must have gone temporarily insane for bringing her here. Gently, I lay her in a patch of moss and move the dark curtain of hair away from her face.
They are thousands of ebony silk, and I cannot help it.
I rub the tips of my fingers across them, through them.
It feels cool until it begins to spark with static.
With a mind of its own, my hand cups the back of her head.
I cannot fathom how small she is when my fingers far extend the crown of her head like a grotesque headdress.
Xiaoyu. Zhao-yoo. Her name is the whisper in the air.
A breeze that kisses and caresses. The wind learns her name, praises her, thanks her.
Xiaoyu’s touch is another. Soft and healing, but painfully quizzical of my form.
If I had not found it so amusing, I would have been disturbed at the way the trees giggled at her scrutiny of my slit earlier.
As she slumbers, I build her a large hammock. It is a bed of weaved petals suspended in the air by four Cinder trees. It is short enough that Xiaoyu can climb up without a problem. Although I am uncertain why I make it terribly wide and spacious for one as small as her.
Do I plan on laying with a human?
I shudder. Certainly not. Just the thought alone upsets my belly. My gums are sore from the growth—a result of rehydration, most likely. I lift Xiaoyu into my arms and secure her on the bedding. Though my vision is blurry, I know she looks exquisite against all the violet petals.
She groans again, rolling over and scratching at the vine wrapped around her ankle. It reminds me that I need to see to her injury. I sigh once more as I extract the vine. Running my hands over her skin, the wind tells me it will heal well as long as I restrict her ankle’s movements.
It is hard to give her a proper wrap with her pants in the way, so I slice them off.
Throwing them far away from the swinging bed.
I am already sweeping her skin before I realize my mistake.
I cannot remember if there is a custom for this.
Terra rarely wore coverings, so I am unfamiliar.
When I undress her, I react differently.
Like I have done something gravely wrong.
Shaking off the feeling, I dust off her spectacles and position them at the bridge of her nose.
I notice that she has tiny hairs covering all over her body.
Her legs are light, perhaps too thin at the way I can feel her jutting hipbones.
I remove another piece of cloth covering the crux of her legs.
As I set her bones in place and wrap it with thicker, less abrasive vines, I focus my foggy vision elsewhere.
My body hums with trepidation. I feel a trickle of sweat run down my temple.
For a split second, I cave. My gaze flutters between her legs.
I am not ignorant. I know the bodily functions of humans.
During my trips across dreams, I’ve seen many fuck. I just haven’t seen one this up close.
Like a doomed sailor, I am drawn closer by curiosity. This, I am sure, is not allowed. Human customs would vilify this. Careful with my claws, I slide the fluff of hair up and find her slit. I almost gawk at how tiny it is. I must be mistaken.
And yet, the more I probe, the slicker she gets. I cannot explain how it feels. She is warm, wet, and welcoming. One knuckle slides into her, and she makes a noise deep in her throat. A sigh. A moan.
She adjusts and crosses her legs, shutting me away. Stiffly, I back away and lift my fingers that have been in her to my nose. Her musk lingers thickly in my veins, clogging me with nothing but greed. My tongue licks away the remnants of her wetness as I stare at her half-naked on the bed.
There it is again, that forbidden thrumming against my slit. They are pounding painfully, the cilia holding it together close to snapping. Out of six of them, one snaps loose.
My breath stops as her eyes flutter open.