Chapter 198: Double Standard

“That’s my friend, Opal, please don’t bite their head off,” I request.

Instantly, the horrible dread in the tunnel retreats a bit. There’s a terrifying crunching sound, like that of bones breaking. “They look so tasty, though,” the girl hums sadly.

Opal grins brightly. “I’ve been told I’m a snack, but I only let my friends bite me,” they say. 

“Can we be friends?” the thing in the dark asks hopefully.

Shrugging, Opal replies calmly. “Not biting-friends, sadly. But talking-friends, definitely,” they say.

The monster pouts at that. “Okay,” it says. “Talking-friends, then.”

“We might meet more people in the tunnels. Please ask before trying to eat them,” I tell her.

“But I want to eat them.”

“What if they don’t want to be eaten?” I ask. “I want to see you but you don’t want to be seen. So, I’m nice and don’t even try, right? You should be nice to other people.”

For a long moment, my logic stuns the thing in the dark. Then, carefully, it tries a question. “Why should I be nice?” it asks.

I tilt my head. It’s a good question, right? Why should one be nice, after all? “If you’re nice to people, they’re more likely to be nice to you. And their friends, people who are nice to them, will also probably be nicer to you.”

She thinks for a moment. “I don’t understand,” the girl says.

“If you bit my friend, my other friend might try to look at you,” I say.

“What?!” the girl asks, outraged. “Why?!” It feels like ice in my veins.

“Because you were rude. If you’re not nice to people, they won’t be nice to you,” I reply simply.

“So I should always be nice first?” she asks, quietly, as if thinking it over carefully.

I shrug. “Most of the time. If people are rude, you don’t owe them anything. But some people are rude at the start, then turn nice when they understand you. Some people look nice, but turn rude when you ask them small favours.”

“That’s complicated,” it complains with a pout.

Standing in deep blackness, I have the urge to ruffle her hair, but hold back. I’m pretty sure my hand might get bitten off if I try that. “It sure is,” I admit. “That’s why you should be nice first, and if you think people suck, then you stop being nice.”

For another long moment, she lets the simplification sink in. I can feel Opal staring at me with a lot of amusement. And they know I’m glaring at them with my deadpan “say nothing” expression. Eventually, the thing in the dark gives a short nod, with the sound of fresh snow crunching. And then, she moves further into the darkness.

- - -

We end up collecting Inu as well at some point. And the empathetic girl, of course, instantly hits it off with the thing that lurks in the darkness. “Awww, aren’t you a precious critter?” she coos happily.

The monster preens at the praise. “Yes,” it says. “This one is precious. Very precious.”

“Yes you are!” Inu praises happily. Despite that, she just clasps her hands to her face. Somehow, she instinctively understands that the creature doesn’t want to be seen or touched. At best, heard. “Would you like to hum a song for us as we walk?” she asks.

“Yes, I would greatly enjoy humming.”

“Would you like me to hum along?” Inu asks.

“Please do,” the girl asks, excitedly. Her excitement feels like icicles stabbing under my fingernails, the darkness growing dense and cold. The monster begins to hum a song as it walks again, faint footsteps in the darkness.

And Inu hums along. I take a moment, then gently join in as well. No one says anything, their voices remaining perfectly quiet at my contribution. And so, we walk further into the dark.

- - -

A sickening snapping and crunching fills my ears. It’s the sound of bones breaking and flesh tearing. Of things dying voicelessly, their screams drowned out in the ghostly hum that surrounds us.

“Were you hungry?” Inu asks kindly.

“Very,” the monster says. 

“What did you eat?” the kind girl asks.

There’s a long pause. Then a small rustling. It sounds like a little girl wiping her mouth. “I don’t know,” she says quietly.

I look down at myself, and cast a healing spell. “That’s alright,” I reply. “I never liked that leg anyway.”

The silence is chilling. The girl tilts her head at me with the sound of crackling leaves. “Can I have the rest of it?”

“No thank you, I’m very attached to my knee.”

“Okay!” she replies cheerily, then rises from the floor. She turns to me for a second. “Sorry for touching you.”

“It’s okay,” I lie. And we walk on, though I lean on Opal’s shoulder as I hop with the rest of them. Blood drip-drops into the darkness of Kuro, wrapping around my stump. The pain burns. Lances of ice shoot upwards through my veins, and there’s a thin sheen of necrosis around where it bit off my leg. 

[The Fleshsmith mocks your feeble form. It recommends that you grow many limbs, then you may not feel their absence as much.]

[Respitia the Pure averts her gaze at the rot infesting you.]

Pessimists, I chide mentally. Yes, I may be missing my left foot and shin, now, but there’s a positive to this. I can feel the corrosive mana flooding through my veins from the bite, the way it eats at my insides. And I push my own mana against it with [Deconstruction]. Quietly, sneakily, releasing only the tiniest wisp of magic from my vessel. Just enough to learn.

And I add the root of the rot to my archive.

- - -

“I’m hungry,” the girl says quietly. 

Richard nods in understanding. “Do not worry,” our chef says. “I will prepare a meal for you.”

And then, the little hiy’ht opens her mouth and regurgitates something she’s eaten. Like a mother feeding a baby bird, she feeds a meal to the thing that lurks in the dark.

“Delicious!” the little girl says, descending on the meal with enthusiasm. Half-digested, runed bones snap under her teeth, faint flashes of gold piercing the darkness. I hold my eyes shut, making sure not to open them until the flashes subside. “Thank you. I love you,” the girl says to Richard.

The hiy’ht just nods in silence, and we continue on through the dark.

- - -

“We’re there,” the girl says, and her voice shakes a little. Her humming has died off, but mine still continues. In fact, I smile gently, and nod at Inu. She can’t see it, but I know she’ll get it. And the kind girl does, of course.

“Are you tired?” she asks the thing in the dark.

There’s a pause, then the sound of crunching snow. A nod. “I am, just a little,” it says. 

“Would you like a lullaby?” I ask. “The others can go ahead, I’ll sit with you.”

“Mommy needs to sit as well!” the girl protests, focusing on Richard. Apparently, feeding her qualified the hiy’ht for being her mom. 

Gracefully as always, Richard accepts the notion. Her calm is incredible, even in situations like this. Perhaps, one day, I’ll ask her what makes her so fearless. “Of course I’ll stay,” she says. “For a little while.”

“Good,” the girl hums, and it’s a deep snarl. “I get lonely. So very lonely.”

And then, gently, I hum. The others instantly press forward, into the room that’s ahead. I can hear as Thatch feels for the latch on a wooden door, his knuckles scraping softly across the material. I hum, and the monster that lurks in the darkness grows drowsy. The door opens, and there’s a lightbulb in the room.

My eyes are closed, and so are those of Richard. Gentle illumination spills into the tunnel, but it just falls onto my eyelids. The others don’t look back. Not even Jean - if only because Inu has her hands over his eyes. They quickly shuffle into the room, and I continue my lullaby.

I hear more scraping, moving, things getting louder, but I ignore them. There’s the noise of fighting, of bones breaking, of weapons clattering. I feel mana brush by me, but my eyes stay closed, and I remain seated, with only Richard and Kuro by my side.

And I hum a lullaby. The most gentle sound I could ever have made. The monster calms, its breathing slowly, and in the end, it is nothing but a little girl that curls up alone in the dark, on a bed of moss, sung to sleep by a stranger. The darkness slumbers. Slowly but surely, it falls asleep.

Poison creeps through my veins, and I feel myself rotting from the inside out. And yet, my voice remains even, my injured lung providing what air it can. The girl even reaches out for me, laying her head in my lap. I brush my fingers through her hair calmly.

Fear bubbles in my heart. At any moment, she might wake up and kill me. And yet, all I do is hum, calmly, gently. My friends fight for their life just one room ahead, and I worry for them, too. But I don’t show it. I let it fall into my apathy. I let myself stop caring.

And then, second by second, the noise disappears. Steps approach us, and someone lays a hand on my shoulder. I nod, silently.

Kuro coats my lap, manifesting shadows over it, and I [Solidify] them, creating a facsimile of what the cute little girl slept on. Then, slowly, I shuffle back quietly, still humming my lullaby. Still luring the monster to sleep. 

Very quietly, I get up, hopping on my single foot and leaning on Inu for support. Richard rises to her feet. I infuse the shadows with mana, to make them stay solid. And I keep humming my lullaby. 

We walk away, slowly, gently. My foot touches down quietly on moss and stone as we reach into the bright room. There’s bodies of shadow-crawlers strewn about. Skeletons of dark fire. And, in the middle of the room, there’s a black orb. As I still hum, Kuro wraps around it, devouring the treasure.

[You have found a Treasure-Shadow.] 

Behind us, there’s a quiet yawn. Inu hisses in fear, and we stumble ahead, further up, up to the portal that leads away from this hell of hungry dark.

“Mommy?” the girl asks from behind us, rubbing her doll-eyes. The hungry monster turns to us. I don’t look. “Are you leaving?”

“I must,” Richard says.

“I’ll be all alone again,” she says.

Tilting my head, I stare ahead, not looking at the girl. “You have a piece of me with you,” I say.

“I want more,” it whispers.

And then, I sigh. I wasn’t even mad it bit off my leg. I can forgive that. I can forgive it for poisoning me, for afflicting me with rot, for all the pain. I was even being polite about her touching me. Twice. But there’s one thing I’m annoyed at. The double standard.

“That’s not nice,” I say quietly.

“Maybe I don’t want to be nice,” the monsters hums greedily.

I make a sign with my hand. A simple one. “Leave.” 

Inu steps through the portal with Jean. So do Thatch, Opal, and Sylves. Richard gives me one more glance, then steps into the safe zone as well.

I turn around, my eyes closed as I stare at the monster, balancing myself using a cane of solidified mana. “Well,” I say. “If you’re gonna be rude, I will too.”

Then I open my eyes, and stare at the thing that lurks in the dark.

[Observation 24 > 25]

It screams and lunges.