Chapter 12 - Primogenitor

Orange flames rise from large clay pots, lining streets of neatly tiled red brick. Cozy homes of artfully masoned stone are packed side by side, narrow alleys between them. Most every surface is covered in runes, chiseled into the bricks and walls.

When I look up, I see black metal, high, high above, barely visible through the sparse smoke that lingers in the air. Thick girders are crisscrossing in a triangular pattern to support a cavernous domed ceiling.

There are Marmothi everywhere, and I smell food, roasting vegetables, spices, something else.

“It’s amazing!” I exclaim.

“Ai!” Ruby says.

“Come! I’ll show you my home!” Lara says.

“Lara, shouldn’t you report to your brother and the high priest about the attack?” Arvel says.

“Oh! You’re right. That takes priority.”

Lara leads us down the street, and everyone stares, murmuring amongst themselves. My ears pick up their words easily enough.

“Priestess Lara is back early. Did something happen in Southrift Burrow?”

“Who is that Catkin girl in the glowing dress?”

“That baby, it has horns!”

“Shh!”

In the distance, a tall palace made of black metal rises high into the haze. As we move closer, the buildings gradually transition from simple residences to more industrial establishments. There is an ever present clamor from many blacksmith hammers slamming into anvils. A huge crucible pours liquid metal into a mold. Wheelbarrows of ore in various colors are heaved up from a big hole in the ground. There is a farm of tightly packed boxes growing big mushrooms, and a courtyard where piles of bright purple root vegetables are being mashed into paste by hammer-wielding children.

We walk up a long and steep set of stone stairs leading up to the palace, and then we reach the front gates. A Marmothi bows to Lara and opens the door, eyeing me and Ruby curiously.

As we step inside, I am struck by a sense of vertigo. The floor is thick, clear glass. Far below, there is a deep quarry where the earth is being excavated in a spiral pattern. It is all illuminated by a warm light from above, hundreds of fire pots arrayed on a balcony in a big circle.

Meditating on a cushion in the center of the room, there is an ancient Marmothi, who I presume must be the high priest, Gorentus. His fur is ashy grey, and his large body is covered in deep layered wrinkles. His eyes are open ever so slightly. He barely reacts to our entrance, tilting his head up ever so slightly.

Suddenly, a marmothi with rust red fur comes running towards us.

“Priestess Lara? What is the meaning of this?! Who are these strays? Why have you brought them into the sacred enclave?!” He shouts.

“I have no business with you, Priest Varg,” Lara says.

Varg looks at me and ruby, then he notices Ruby’s horns. “A devil!”

“Bu!” Ruby says, waving her hands at Varg.

I hold ruby close, staying close to Lara.

“I’ll have you know these strays saved our lives. Southrift Burrow has fallen,” Lara says.

Varg winces. He takes a breath, and closes his eyes for a long moment. When he opens them, there is a deep pain within. “Were there any survivors?”

“I do not know. We were being hunted. We left the area as soon as possible.”

“I’m sorry. It is good that you made it back safely. That being said, you have brought outsiders into our midst, one of whom carries the blood of he Old Gods. I expect an explanation.”

“She—”

Suddenly, Gorentus speaks. His voice is quiet and rumbling. It silences the room.

“Primogenitor,” he says.

He gives me a slow, respectful nod.

Lara and Varg share a surprised glance. Arvel looks stunned, and Yosh seems about as confused as I am.

“Me?” I ask. “What does he mean?”

“Ayla,” Lara says cautiously. “You said that you were from Englevard, didn’t you? I thought it was strange. There aren’t many beastkin there. Were you by chance born a human?”

The painful memory of Luna’s sacrifice prickles my heart. “Is that a bad thing?”

“No,” Lara says breathlessly. She laughs. “A new lineage of beastkin is a momentous occasion! You have to tell us how it happened!”

“Is it really that amazing?” I ask, an uncomfortable knot tightening inside me.

“It’s the stuff of legends, Ayla!” Lara says.

“I do not believe it! Are you truly saying this girl is the ilk of the supreme ancestors?” Varg says.

“I did not say it. The high priest did,” Lara says. “Unlike you, he has actually met one of the supreme ancestors. He would know.”

Varg now looks at me with a completely different expression. It’s shock and disbelief mostly, and perhaps a little guilt.

“You said she saved your lives?” Varg asks.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

“We were surrounded by hundreds of chimera, and Arvel had fallen to the bite of a black viper. She descended from the heavens and rescued us from certain death! In the moment I saw her, I truly believed she was the promised hero, though she wasn’t sent from Lorencia.”

“Is she truly a primogenitor?” Varg asks the high priest.

The high priest nods.

“How did it happen?” Lara asks. “Did the gods descend upon you? Were you rewarded for an act of great heroism?”

“No.” I gulp. “None of those things.”

“You must tell us!” Lara says.

“Lara,” Gorentus says. “Some things are best unspoken.”

I let out a breath. “Thank you,” I say.

He nods to me.

Lara stares at me, mouth gaping. She seems a bit surprised, and more than a bit disappointed.

“Sorry. Maybe I’ll tell you one day. Not today,” I say.

She suddenly bows to me. “I apologize! I shouldn’t have pressed for your secrets!”

“Stop! It’s not like that! It’s just a painful thing to talk about is all.”

I glance at the high priest. He knows, I’m sure of it. Does that mean all the beastkin primogenitors had to lose a beloved friend, in the same awful way I did?

“Oh,” Lara says, eyes wide. “I see. I understand. I won’t bother you about it anymore, okay?”

“Thanks.”

“So you really are a primogenitor,” Varg says.

“If by that you mean I was born a human and am now a cat, then yes,” I say.

Varg bows to me. “I sincerely apologize for the rude treatment earlier. You are welcome here. As is your…” He trails off, looking at Ruby.

“Sister,” I say.

His eyes widen. “I see. A beastkin primogenitor and a devil, sisters. Opposite, yet the same.”

“What do you mean when you say she’s a devil? Are there others like her?” I ask.

“Occasionally, when a human eats the flesh of a monster, they manage to retain their sapience by some means or another. That is a devil. Most of them are violent and ruthless, without a shred of love or empathy in their hearts,” Varg explains.

“Ai!” Ruby says, excited because everyone is staring at her.

“Ruby has plenty of love and empathy though.” I boop her little nose.

“Such a thing is not unheard of. However, perhaps it will be wise to mentally prepare yourself. Raising her might be difficult. There might be nothing you can do to prevent her from falling into depravity. The influence of the Old Gods is insidious. Whether she can resist is up to her.”

“What are the Old Gods? I heard the harpies talking about them. They worshipped them.”

“Come,” Varg says. “It will be best if I simply show you. Leave your sister behind.”

I hesitantly hand Ruby off to Lara, she nods at me, and I follow Varg.

He leads me to a metal door in the back of the palace, pulls out a heavy key, and unlocks it. Within, there are various artifacts, gnarled skulls, a dagger the color of blood, a jar of white shimmering sand, and books, tons and tons of books.

“This is the forbidden archive. Only the priests are supposed to enter, but I will make a special exception for you today. As a primogenitor, it is critical that you understand.”

He pulls one of the books off the shelves, old and dusty, with a brown leather cover.

“I can’t read,” I say.

He raises his eyebrows. “We will certainly need to correct that tragedy, but you don’t need to be able to read for this. There is a picture.”

He opens the book, and slowly flips through it until he finds a specific page. Then he lays it open on the table.

Between the letters, there is an illustration. A horde of distorted bestial heads, all of which have ram horns, are devouring themselves in a circle. They are all burning in black fire.

“Belzebourous the Star Devourer,” Varg says quietly. “There are many Old Gods, each of whom is responsible for some of the monsters that infest the world. They each have a distinctive smell. Your sister smells like this one.”

A shiver goes down my spine.

“How are they different from the spirits?” I ask. “Aside from looking scarier.”

Varg clears his throat. “At the beginning, in an era before time, they were indeed all the same. That changed when the spirits created the world. They created the earth, the sun, the moon and the stars. And in order to achieve this, they made the ultimate sacrifice.”

I think of Luna. “What sacrifice?”

“Their free will. Spirits have no choice but to follow the rules they have set for themselves. When the sun rises, when the wind blows, when fire burns, and when stones fall, they do so by the magic of the spirits. The rules of the world that you take for granted, even the most simple and mundane of everyday facts, are rules the spirits have chosen, and can never revoke.”

My eyes go wide. “Wait, if the spirits are working everywhere, doing everything, why aren’t they more common? I’ve only ever met one of them.”

“And you are very lucky indeed. Spirits almost never take on a corporeal form. Almost always, they remain invisible and intangible, their existence not tied to any one physical location.”

“Are the Old Gods invisible as well?”

“Yes, and I hope by now you understand the difference between them and the spirits.”

“Oh.” My stomach drops. “They have free will.”

“Yes. Many are indifferent to the world the spirits have made. Some are not.”

I gulp. “What about this one? Belzebourous.”

“He is pure evil,” Varg says. “He seeks to devour the world.”

His blood runs through Ruby’s veins. He has an influence over her. I don’t like this at all.

“Now do you understand why I am concerned for your sister?”

“Yeah, I do,” I say. “But still, Ruby is strong. She won’t let some dumb little Old God win.”

Varg smiles. “I hope you’re right, for both your sakes.”

“I want to get back to her.”

We return to the main chamber of the palace, and I take Ruby from Lara.

“Ayla!” She says.

My heart flutters. “You just said my name. You said my name!” I jump up and down. “Did you hear that? She said my name!”

Lara smiles, ruffling my hair. “She did!”

I giggle with joy, and cuddle Ruby some more.

Anyway, Lara says. “We’re almost done here. We should find my—”

The doors of the palace burst open. A tall and muscular Marmothi strolls in. He is wearing a very nice suit of armor made of silvery-blue metal.

“Sister!” He runs to Lara and hugs her. “I just got out of the council meeting. I heard that you came back early. What happened? Are you hurt?”

“Oof! I am now,” Lara says from within his crushing vice grip of a hug.

He lets go of her, and looks her up and down, seemingly satisfied that she is unharmed.

Then he notices me. “Who’s the cat?”

“That’s Ayla, a new Catkin primogenitor. She saved my life at Southrift,” Lara says.

Pumar does a double take, looking at me with wide eyes. Then he drops to one knee and takes my hand in his. I realize the Marmothi have surprisingly small hands for their size.

“Ayla. I will ask for all the details in a moment. But for now, thank you.”

I smile. “Of course! Lara saved me too. She promised to feed me yamba!”

After that, Lara and Arvel give their report to Pumar. They go into painstaking detail about the attack on Southrift Burrow, how the frost giants smashed through the metal walls with a huge battering ram, and monsters swarmed in. Lara and her bodyguards were able to escape because they knew about a secret passage out of the burrow, but the wolves were able to follow their smell. After explaining all that, Lara tells him about me, our trip back, and that we just found out that I am a primogenitor.

“While I would love to get to know you better later, I have some serious matters to attend to right now,” Pumar says to me.

“You left the council meeting early, didn’t you,” Lara says,

“I may or may not have done something similar to that,” Pumar says.

“Get out of here! Do you think being strong is an excuse for neglecting your duties?”

“No ma’am.” Pumar runs out of the palace.

Then, it’s finally time for me to go to Lara’s home and eat yamba.

Her house is attached to the palace, and has a nice view overlooking the city. The inside is warm and cozy, with fluffy carpets on the floor, and cushy furniture.

“Here we are! You and Ruby can stay with me for as long as you like.”

There are tears in my eyes. “It’s wonderful.”

“Here. While you were talking to Varg, I asked the temple acolytes to stock my pantry. We have seven different kinds of yamba for you to try!”

She gives me a tray with seven purple loafs of various shapes and sizes. It looks to be made from the pulp of those root vegetables that I saw the children smashing.

It smells amazing, very different from bread. Sweeter. I grab one and bite in.

“Mmm!”

I’m so happy. I’m crying. I eat bite after bite. I almost cough. It’s so good.

Ruby sees me eating. She climbs up onto the table, excitedly grabs a bun, and chomps it.