The journey of my life had been a strange one.

I blinked, feeling my eyes beginning to water from the strain. None of the tears welling up spilled out. It wasn't that I was suddenly developing emotions. The blinding, artificial light above me was scorching my retinas. I'd resolved to stare at the dark silhouettes hovering around my vision in my dying moments. A form of defiance, perhaps.

My arms were stretched up over my head, metal shackles around my wrists and ankles, all working to hold me down to a cold operating table.

My life had begun and ended in a [Scientist's] operating room. There was irony in that, but I didn't laugh. Maybe a Human would have found it funny, but I didn't. I couldn't.

Now that I was lying on an operating table at the end of it all, I had nothing better to do than reflect, but I'd never been the type of person to pray to a God or higher forces.

Would it have been better for me to do that? To try and worship something I couldn't hear or see? To beg my way into a great kingdom in the afterlife in seeking happiness? I'd read the history books. I knew that the Gods had existed, even if they've gone 'dormant'. Would they even listen to something like me? I was no child of theirs. I was a creation of monsters, not of man or God.

I'd never given much thought to the concept of destiny. It had always seemed like such a stupid, illogical thing. One of many irrational systems Humanoids used as an attempt to justify their actions and make sense of the world around them. The world was just too massive for any single being to distill and comprehend.

There was no destiny, no karma, no intrinsic morality that governed the world, and no inherent punishment for going against the will of the masses. I'd always pitied that aspect of the Humanoid mind. The thought that Humanoids always tried to make sense out of concepts that were chaotic by their very nature.

There was no simple answer to magic, or destiny, or even the cycle of life and death. Yet they had always searched for one without stopping to think, even for a single moment, that they were chasing an impossible dream. Seeking to understand a system beyond understanding. A road without an end. Chaos.

False forces, models and systems couldn't be trusted, but people could. Instead of speculation, hard facts, cooperation and understanding were the key to progress.

Even as a small, cold blade pierced the skin of my chest, I felt so, so little. [Pain Resistance]. [Cold Resistance]. A complete lack of emotional response.

In moments like these, I was glad for this strength. I'd seen the hysteria of Humanoids on the operating table. The fear as needles injecting unknown substances into the body. The panic at the sight of their own blood as they slowly realised what was truly happening to them. The finality. I didn't experience any of it. I couldn't.

Having had my fill of [Scientists] examining me, I closed my eyes for the last time.

Instead of praying to the Primordial Gods, the Sacred Six or any number of local Patron Gods and Goddesses I'd heard of throughout my life, I looked to the past.

I wouldn't find any answers in faith. Not in Gods. There was only a single being I was willing to put any amount of faith in, but they were long gone.

And soon, so was I.

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I'd heard that Humans don't remember their birth. That their minds aren't developed enough as newborns, and that memories are faint at best, at least in the conscious mind.

My kind was different. I remembered the first moments of my life.

My eyes snapped open, seeing the world around me for the very first time, everything cast in a deep emerald hue. My mind, already prepared and eager to learn, had quickly grasped that I needed air to survive. Instinct took hold.

I didn't know how to swim, so I flapped my limbs ineffectually. Nothing. I struggled in that emerald pool, slowly drowning in the liquid prison. I felt no panic. No fear. Only a desire to learn and survive. My limbs pushed more, adapting to the movements of my own body and the reactions of the world around me. In the moments after my birth, I learned how to swim.

I wasn't a good swimmer, but I was good enough to survive my formative day. I still remember the moment my head broke the surface of the liquid. My first gasp of the stale air within the jar I'd been stored in. I remember my eyes staring directly upwards, looking up at a dark, brown cork. The one thing keeping me trapped beyond the hold of gravity. My eyes turned down, staring into the glass of the jar as I relaxed, beginning to float in the thick liquid. Adjusting.

I saw my own face for the first time. Pale skin. Pink eyes. White, empty hair. Then, I saw double. A mimicry of my own face, with a slightly higher cheekbone. I swam close to the walls surrounding me, shivering once I first made contact with the cold glass of the jar. My face pressed against it, relishing the feeling of touch, the sensation of stability against my first solid surface.

My eyes stared out at the world, and at the creature in the jar next to me. Strikingly similar to my reflection, but fractionally different. It had taken me the better part of an hour to realise the reflection wasn't just a distorted mirror. That I wasn't alone in this place.

When I was certain I wouldn't drown, I explored the jar that was my home. I saw others, just like me. Some lacked the genitalia between my legs, with slimmer bodies and larger chests. Others were like me, but larger, or smaller, or fatter, or thinner. We were all different, if only in tiny, insignificant ways. No matter how we looked, we all shared those bright pink eyes and empty white hair. United, yet apart, staring at one another within our own personal prisons.

None of us were alone.

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I still remember my first time operating on a Human.

Over the course of the first week, we'd grown. Our size had expanded from the height of an apple to that of an adolescent Human. It hadn't been an easy transition, but those that had survived the growth process and consumed enough to survive had been brought into the chambers further below the caves we'd been born in.

I was born to a batch of one hundred. It was a larger batch than our creators usually worked with, but they'd had the resources to spare. We needed more food and water than a real Human, but they'd supplied that, too.

Now, we were being tested. My body was similar to how it is today. We didn't age like Humanoids usually did, or so we'd been told. The Human was blindfolded, strapped down to the table like I was now, even if they were more heavily sedated. Numbed in a very different way. I was with nine of the others, all of us wearing face masks, goggles, gloves, and aprons.

With [Insight] active, we observed the sleeping Human. The Cyclops next to us cast a shadow over their sleeping form, her single deep red eye glowing much like ours were. With a meaty finger, she pointed to points on the sleeping body, explaining the flow of Aera and its place in a living creature's system. She'd explained the various aspects of the Soul. How they connected and were interwoven with one another. How the balance between them allowed for a safe, stable Soul. A safe, stable identity.

We hadn't made any incisions or verbal contact with the Humans. Not on the first day.

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Months passed, and I learned more and more. I skimmed through the days and nights of my early life. Learning about the army and the island. Helping our creators and caretakers with work. Eating, sleeping, and growing.

I could remember it all. Not as clear as a 'recording', like some of the others could, but clear enough. The one day I remembered vividly was the most important of all. The best day.

I'd been eating with some of the others. Calling our space a 'cafeteria' might have been fitting, but although the meaning of the word fit, I saw it as something more important than that. It wasn't just a hall for food, but for communication, interaction and consolidation.

Our cafeteria was surrounded on all sides by brown cave walls, carved to a smooth perfection through magic. We ate from real metal trays, and the food was cooked. The sound of swift, efficient eating filled the hall as we stuffed meats, vegetables and pastes into our mouths, keeping ourselves just quiet enough to hear our peers over the racket.

The [Raiders] and [Scientists] further above had better quarters, but the order of things made sense. They were more important to our kingdom, while we were merely assistants. If nothing else, we had far better quarters than the slaves and subjects further down.

While all of us stayed together, we had all formed cliques. Smaller groups designed to share information. Then, we rotated people between the various groups throughout the hall to share and pass on things we'd learned, taking turns each day to be the one to visit the rest of our people. Our kin.

On that day, I'd been with my original group. The ones I'd first spoken with after leaving the jars and given the rudimentaries of language. I could remember the twins speaking. They called themselves the 'twins', even though they'd grown up in separate containers. We'd all been jar neighbours. They enjoyed each other's company, and stuck close to one another since birth. Unlike many of us, they'd even chosen names for themselves already.

'Cherry and Cream'. The others speculated that they had a greater aptitude for magic because they were 'gifted', but I suspected it was just because they'd found a label for themselves. The building blocks of an identity. The cornerstone of all magic. I hadn't found a name that fit me. I was still just 'Fifty Seven'.

"Some of 'em have taken a shine to little old me!" Cherry chirped, her voice loud with a hollow, mimicked emotion. She was just like the rest of us. She didn't have emotions anywhere near as expressive as she was putting on, even if she liked to believe as much. "They just get so, so excited when they hear me comin', bumpin' around and squealin' with joy!"

She spoke strangely, with an accent that none of us had ever spoken with. I suspected she'd picked it up from one of the bound subjects she'd been speaking with. She was more talkative with them than most, and had gotten something from them in return. I desired something akin to that.

"Have you learned anything of interest?" Nineteen asked. He was a quieter sort, with a single physical defect. His right eye was entirely black and blind. Alongside Eighteen, he was a 'true' twin. They'd grown up in the same jar. While his sister had a black left eye, one completely devoid of colour and design, her right eye worked fine.

"We've heard the creators speaking about our [King]," Cream told us, his arms crossed. He smiled, much like his 'twin' did, but wasn't nearly as expressive. His body was larger, more imposing and well built than many of ours.

Everyone at the table looked up from their food, ears perked and ready to receive. We didn't know much about our leaders, or the world beyond our caverns, and the idea of learning about them had greater importance to us. The idea was intoxicating. Nobody spoke, but our eyes were expectant. He hesitated before responding. I believe it was because he savoured the attention.

"We have learned that our [King] is a Lich."

"Lich?" I asked, my voice slipping out between a mouthful of half-chewed Cow meat.

"A type of Undead," he clarified, moving to eat his own food.

"The things we clear out of the slave's quarters when our creators haven't cleaned the floors below?" asked another at our table.

"Smarter than them. More powerful, capable of magic and thought," Cream informed us.

The only Undead I'd ever seen were Zombies. The dead below had never been left alone long enough to become Skeletons, and Spirits were rare. The imbalances in the aspects of the Soul after death caused them, the creators told us. The consequences of failed experiments.

"I just hope he doesn't stink," Cherry grinned. I hadn't thought much of it back then, but her grin was too wide, too forced, even for a Human. "We wouldn't want it to distract us from work or nothin'! The Undead make the Humans all jittery, too!"

I'd filed the information away. I knew our kingdom was ruled by a [King] and a [Queen]. Both of them were said to be as strong as a council of [Demon Lords] in the land to the west. It wasn't until much later that I'd learned they were speaking of Zeradonia.

I was surprised at Cherry's additional comment. I suspected she was trying to practice her humor for the Humans, even if we didn't make for a very enthusiastic or receptive audience, the sounds of our frantic gobbling drowning out the joke. We needed to eat for energy. If we didn't have that energy, we would falter and be punished like the slaves. None of us wanted that. It diminished the value of the pecking order, to be treated like them.

We ate in silence, waiting for another of our kind to rotate to our table.

It was then that a bulbous blue-skinned Humanoid larger than even the greatest of us filled the doorway to our cafeteria, a monster with three scowling heads dressed in foreign furs from creatures none of us had even heard of.

"Come!" the Troll roared, the noise causing the sound of eating to shrivel up and die. "You are to attend the meeting. All of you."

Without another word, he stepped away from the entrance, his heavy footfalls echoing through the silent cafeteria as he plodded down the corridor.

That was new. Unusual. None of us had been called for 'meetings' before. We exchanged looks, but said nothing, quietly rising from our tables as we left the food behind. Some of us took the trays with us or stuffed food into the pockets of our simple clothes, but they were few and far between.

Our entire batch followed the Troll through the halls, walking up the staircase after a moment of apprehension. We'd never been permitted to go above our designated floor before. The halls above were formed of smooth stone, all crafted through the use of Earth Magic. We tracked dirt through those halls as we followed the Troll, hearing the sounds of footsteps echo around us.

We saw others like us, even if they too were different. Other batches from other sectors. We'd all been eager to converse and learn from those that were alien to us, but we had no time. The most we shared were longing, curious glances.

We congregated in a massive hall of black stone. The only seats I'd seen were a row of carved pews at the front, all occupied by monsters carrying weapons or tools stained with blood. None of our kind dared sit in those seats. At the front of the hall, lit with soft blue lighting from above, was a stage, complete with an altar.

Standing behind that altar was an enchanting creature, the most beautiful and perfect thing I'd ever laid my eyes on.

The figure was a woman, roughly our height, yet not of a kind I'd ever seen before. Her skin was a deep, dark blue. Gills lined her neck, with fins on the sides of her head and elbows. Her body was covered in glittering scales, a flowing platinum white toga covering just enough for modesty. Before then, I had only ever seen furs being worn. The clothes she wore were otherworldly to us. A feather coat hung over her clothes, a pristine white with long hair spilling over it, the colour of an ocean I'd never seen. Her eyes glowed bright blue like polished sapphires, both surrounded by sclera black as night, and with every pair of eyes she met, another Soul was enraptured.

I didn't know how long I'd been staring. How long we'd all been staring. It had simultaneously felt like an eternity, and nowhere near enough. If we'd been commanded to stand there and stare into those eyes until our legs collapsed or we starved to death, I was certain none of us would have given a single word of complaint.

When she raised her arms and revealed her slender, perfect hands, the spell broke for just a moment. The space around me was warm, muggy and crowded. Bodies pressed together as the hall was full to bursting, not just with our kind, but the monsters that led us.

"People of Ocean's Hold," the woman spoke, her voice clear and resonant. The sound cut deeply into me, became a part of me that I would cherish. I knew in that moment that I'd never forget her voice, or anything she ever said. Years later, I felt a measure of pride to know I'd been right. "I am Ligeia Mare, the Lady of Rain, the Siren Queen. I come bearing news from your ruler, the Lich King."

She was one of our two leaders. A Siren as our [Queen], and a Lich as our [King]. Yet how could an Undead ever hope to equal this? Her introduction and position among our kind was crystal clear. It clicked. She was our [Queen].

"The Humans have found a [Hero] to rally behind. They raise arms against our rule and seek to rebel. When our armies emerge victorious and crush the rebellion plaguing our island, you will be given far more work. You will stockpile resources and raise the number of experiments you perform. It is imperative that you gain as much Experience in your fields as possible to prepare for that eventuality."

I had felt myself nod, even without the conscious decision to do so. If the [Queen] commanded it, I would have done anything. That voice and those eyes had owned me. They still did.

Next to me, I heard a giggle. Cherry grinned, her eyes locked on the same heavenly figure that held all of our undivided attention.

"A [Hero] fighting our army? Guess the Humans got tired of being captured and just decided to give themselves up!"

She was right. I'd never heard of the Humans winning a single battle against our forces. Our creators had used them for their experiments, as was their design. Humans made for excellent test subjects in researching the Soul.

My eyes never once tore from the Siren Queen's own. Her eyes were a pair of glowing sapphires. A colour that drew me in and lit a fire in my chest.

I saw the fingers of my trembling hand rise, poking up into my vision. I'd wanted to look at my hand, but I couldn't look away from her. My hand glowed pink with [Mantle], and something deep within me had told me I'd changed.

I tried to twist the Aera within me, and felt it change. Much like Cherry and Cream, I had found an identity. An idea to which I'd dedicate myself to and grow. I could become stronger.

My magic was born in her eyes. It was yet another thing to thank her for. Another thing to fill myself with and dedicate myself to.

It was all for her.

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On the worst day of my life, I was practicing magic.

I'd been practicing for a while since the day of the speech. For her. The pink light I'd crafted was something I could give a sort of 'hardness', turning it from mere light into something tangible. I didn't know what to do with it, so I'd been experimenting every morning before the first meal.

That morning, I'd been trying to craft a blade. I hadn't seen many, but I'd based it off the spears and polearms some of the [Raiders] carried with them. I didn't have the opportunity to mold the light around a physical blade for practice, so I'd been trying to form it from memory. It had been difficult. Wrong. The 'blade' didn't feel right, even if the 'edge' had, but I'd been experimenting regardless.

Some shapes 'stuck' better than others. I'd been fiddling with the shape and position of the hard light I'd crafted, trying to figure out what the underlying pattern was. There had to be a unifying trait for my abilities, and I was determined to find out what it was.

I didn't know why I'd been having issues with my magic. I'd learned the Luster Arts, but transforming my Aera into something different was harder for me than merely moving and intensifying it. Others like Cherry and Cream had already started getting their abilities, but I was having trouble finding mine.

That morning, I'd been wondering about those abilities of theirs. I knew they had an aptitude for Emotion Magic. They were able to alter the emotions of the slaves and subjects, despite having almost none themselves. It was impressive, if not a little disheartening. If they could alter emotions without a reference, why couldn't I make a blade?

That train of thought had led me to wonder if the sounds of clashing steel above me was something I was imagining. I'd heard sounds that weren't there before, and I'd assumed this was more of the same. Yet those sounds didn't go away. The sound of shouting, blades banging against each other and scraping against stone only intensified.

I rose to my feet, as did others of my kind, stepping out of our rest area, the cave we'd all been born in. We wandered the spacious, cold corridors, our bare feet unbothered by stray stones and dirt.

It was then that many of us saw our first real Human. Not a test subject strapped to a table and blindfolded for experiments and examinations, but a breathing person covered in armor and blood, weapon in hand. I felt my instincts scream at me to run once I saw the lack of a metal collar around their neck. They weren't a slave, so why were they here?

The man asked us if we were slaves. We told him we weren't, and said no more than that. We didn't dare to.

He told us to go to the surface with 'the others'. Others like us. Our creators had never told us what to do in a situation like this. We did as we had always done, and obeyed.

The feeling of blood on our bare feet wasn't an unusual one. What made the situation so alien was the sight of our creators, cut down and dead. Some had been slain by blades alone, while others had fallen to magic. Burn marks. Patches of discoloured skin. Chunks of bone and flesh twisted and rended. Death.

We met in that same smooth black hall, uniting with our kin. Not just our group, but all of us.

Our heads turned to the armed Humans hurriedly ushering us into the hall. They were our enemies, but they had mistaken us for their own. In a daze, I searched for my group. Some of the others spotted me first, beckoning me over to share any information we had about the situation, as though this was a regular meal time gathering.

I squatted with the people I'd known all my life. Even without food being shoveled into our mouths, we were silent. This situation was new to us. Nobody knew what to say. After a few minutes of silent stares and idle thoughts, one of my kin spoke.

"They said the [Hero] won," Nineteen spoke quietly. "The [King] and [Queen] are dead. The Humans are here to free the slaves."

I didn't hear what was said after that. The gaping abyss in my chest consumed all thought. All sound. All drive. The goals I'd crafted for myself crumbled, but the conversation moved on despite my turmoil.

"We need to survive," Cherry stated the obvious, the accent and words she'd adopted long gone. We all nodded in unanimous agreement.

"If they learn that we harmed the Humans, they might kill us."

Again, we nodded. I found myself wondering if that was for the best. Without our creators, what were we? It was the first time my thoughts had clashed with instinct.

"I have an idea," she told us, and all eyes turned to her. "We can pretend to be Humans until we escape, and then find a new purpose."

The nods that followed were drowned with hesitation. Uncertainty. As though we were fighting against invisible chains to complete the action.

Cherry extended her hand towards me, a soft neon pink glow emanating from her fingers. She touched my forehead, and I felt moisture spill from my eyes.

"I've been saving this up from the slaves, so use it and follow my lead."

One by one, she gave our group [Crocodile Tears]. They looked and felt out of place on our faces, but I knew their purpose. When the Humans saw our current state, we let Cherry speak. She told them our creators had 'brainwashed' us. Forced us to work for them like slaves. The Humans had not been wise. They were tired of bloodshed. They accepted anything that didn't look like our creators, and nodded.

For the first and last time, we ascended the staircase to the surface world. Tears fell from the sky, and a harsh, bright light hung high in the air. We squinted up at it until the Humans told us not to stare. We kept our eyes forward, trudging through mud as the Humans watched us with worried eyes. The cold didn't bother us like it did them. We could handle such hardships.

The sky's tears covered our own. When I heard Humans speak the name of those tears, I thought of the [Queen]. The Lady of Rain. Was the water that fell from the sky her tears? Were we all crying together for the fall of something great? The collapse of our kingdom and the loss of our purpose?

On that day, it rained.

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After days of travelling in their 'wagons', camping, seeing animals and monsters we'd never dreamed of, and sharing information collected from the Humans amongst ourselves, we saw the harbour.

The Humans had gathered in numbers we couldn't have dreamed of. They created structures of stone that were vastly different to our home. We ate their food. We conversed with their people. We watched as more of them came to our land over the largest body of water we'd ever seen. The ocean. It was an endless horizon of sparkling blue, boundless in its size.

The Humans celebrated. The fall of our kingdom was something for them to be overjoyed about. They sang, danced, and cheered. We smiled with them, playing our parts as we always had, blending in and learning how to act as Human as they did.

On our first day alone, we'd been shambling around the town like a group of Undead. None of us had ever seen a place like this. It took us time to come to terms with things these Humans had taken for granted. Businesses. Currency. Culture. Politics. Hunting. There was so much for us to learn that it had buried the loss of our kingdom, for most. Many of us fit into these new systems well, casting off our old lives in favour of this new growth. I couldn't bring myself to do the same with the fervor they had.

Humans came from afar, from a 'continent' on their sea wagons. They had received distress calls, and then the celebration grew further. The island died as the Humans came to the decision to leave it behind. In droves, people left on their boats.They wished to see the world, as many of ours did. We came with them, blending in as we 'returned to normality', as the Humans had said. While we adjusted to them, they accepted us as their own. They'd grown to understand and accept our strange quirks, because we were not 'them'. The creators. The oppressors. The monsters.

The last day was warm and bright. Bearing new clothes more comfortable than anything we'd had back in our home, I stepped up onto the wobbly, unsteady ground of their vessel. The sea air and squawking of birds was a strange mixture that grew stronger as the anchor was lifted.

I stood at the back of the ship as we left our home behind. Our kind didn't feel sadness or melancholy, but I felt hollow. I was leaving part of me behind on that island. A part of me I needed.

Humans approached me, drinking from glass bottles and wobbling with smiles on their faces. They leaned on the metal rails as they joined me in watching the island turn to a speck in the distance. Part of me wanted them to fall overboard.

They asked me if I'd lived a hard life. I nodded. They said 'my friends' were deciding to travel once they got to the mainland, and asked if I was going with them. I nodded. They asked me if I had a name, and I paused.

Others had chosen. They'd been forced to, or helped to pick one by the Humans that adopted us. Numbers were not enough for them. I hadn't been speaking much with the others, nor the Humans, but I knew I needed to choose a name.

We had all learned the importance of 'names', and how they shaped a person. I didn't know what shape I wanted to take, and by extension, I had no name.

I remembered the island, even as it vanished behind the sparkling blue horizon. I thought of the jars. The meals. The creators. The experiments. The speech. The rain.

On that last day, it had rained. It was the final connection I'd had to the dead [Queen] I'd silently devoted myself to. The last light left within me.

On that day, it had rained.

I stared down at my hand, calling forth the pink light once again, praying for a reminder. I called out to something that helped to keep that dying light within me alive. The hard light took a new form. It covered my hand with its own, growing sleeker and smoother. More comforting. Beautiful. A reminder of my drive. My goal. My shape.

I flexed my fingers, and the pink feminine hand moved in tandem with my own.

"My name is Dairen," I told them.

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We arrived on the mainland. We helped the Humans build, learning how to construct dwellings and sow seeds for farming. They wished to create a town of their own in this new land, one named after the [Hero] that had saved them. I didn't care for the [Hero's] name, nor the name of the town. I've long since cast the names of both from my memory.

One day, while I was laying bricks for an [Alchemist's] store, one of the men from the boat approached me, telling me that the time had come.

I waved the Humans goodbye as I climbed into a wagon, one that my kin had secured. Some of us had elected to stay with the Humans, but most sought to explore this vast new land. We spoke of what happened on the island during our travels. We traded information like we had during meal times long ago, which had sapped some of the weight for the hollowness within my chest. One by one, we parted from another, finding places we wished to live.

Many from my group stayed in the south. Eighteen and Nineteen, who now called themselves Jarara and Junzo, had decided to stay. Cherry and Cream remained in the south, too. Part of me wanted to stay with them. To listlessly follow them and work for their sakes, since my own drive had been stolen from me. A larger part wanted solitude. A separation from my kin and the reminders of the past. In the moments during our travels I'd spent apart from them, I'd felt that hollowness lessen. I felt more alone, but not more hollow.

I didn't have the energy or drive to travel far, and so I stopped in a place none of the others did. I stayed in a small town amidst a land of verdant trees. A settlement of Humanoids and Beastfolk. 'Addersbrook'.

Coin was important here. Unless I wanted to constantly hunt and forage for my own food and water, I needed to work. I took to it with ease. Building, hunting, farm work. I performed odd jobs throughout the town, and they treated me like any other.

I claimed to be a travelling adventurer. It was a convenient excuse, and not an uncommon one for these people. Individuals blowing in from other towns for work was an everyday occurrence. I hadn't registered with this 'Adventurer's Guild', but none of them had ever checked me for identification.

I'd worked, and worked, and worked. I'd continued shaping my magic, both for comfort and for coin. The hands I conjured were powerful, enough to cut through wood, stone and flesh with ease, like a sharpened blade. I could take jobs others found difficult and complete them with little effort.

The day I felt the light in my chest twinkle again was like any other.

With the [Queen's Hands] over mine, I carved through a writhing Bogworm like it was butter. Farm work was simple, and extermination was even easier. Splattered in blood, I bagged the dead, carved up vermin and carried it back to the [Farmer's] home.

He was speaking with one of the locals, a Beastfolk woman with Cat-like ears. She laughed and spoke like any other, but she was not the woman whose eye I had caught. Her daughter, a young woman with both fur and skin, had seen the bag on my back and the blood on my arms. She demanded to know who I was, and I told her I was an adventurer.

She was pushy. Confident and commanding. She had little of the polite distance other Humans kept from me. It was a stark change from the life I'd been living. She had strong eyes. Bright. For that reason alone, I decided to follow her on a whim. I had no goal or path anyway, so I saw no harm in listening to her and allowing her to guide me.

Among all the people who I had met, she was the most like the [Queen].

She brought me to a market square, one where a group of adventurers had killed an Undead. I heard a boisterous man introduce his team. They called themselves 'Heroes'. I was wary of them at once. If anyone would ruin this tentative path towards recovering my drive I'd found, I had decided it would be them.

The Cat-eared woman introduced me to her team.

A talking animal. A listless Human with a bow. A girl with patches of scales on her body.

They were unremarkable. But they were people that the confident woman had surrounded herself with, and so I had decided to let them surround me, too.

The sun set on an average day. I'd been cleaving apart Bogworms with my arms, the same as I had the day I'd met the woman. She was angry that day, her eyes lit with a raging fire that inspired me to follow. There was an argument, and I supported her. I wished to get her attention and earn her favour. I did not think of how wise the decision to hunt at night was, and neither did the scaled girl. It wasn't important.

We left the other two behind, and approached the wall.

We climbed it. We spoke with one another. We entered the woods.

They were impressed by my abilities. It helped to inspire a sense of camaraderie within me. More of that hollowness within my chest was filled, and I took that as a sign of progress. These people were the ones I wished to devote my existence to.

Then, we fought a monster, much like any other. We killed it, which was the fate of all monsters that met the hand of an adventurer. They were impressed, but it didn't matter in the end.

We were ambushed. We were captured. And now, I was being killed.

My kind felt no regret or palpable emotion. My life was a short one, in comparison to that of a Human. I had lost my real drive long ago, and the idea of death once again gave rise to conflicting ideas within me. I'd been living in the vain hope of finding something, someone, to fill the gap the [Queen] had left. A hollow path leading to a drive that ultimately may not have even existed.

I had failed, and now my journey had come to an end.

I died.

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My eyes opened. They shouldn't have opened. They weren't meant to open, not again.

I remembered floating in space, scattered and broken among many. Someone had put me back together.

I was submerged in liquid, staring directly into glass. Was I back in the caves? Back home, in the broken kingdom I'd left behind forever? Had I gotten a second chance?

My hands moved, exploring the space around me. I was surrounded by cold metal, smooth and immobile. My eyes stared up into the glass, and the face that stared back was different, but not in a familiar way. I was different.

My face looked older. Like that of a young Human adult. My body hadn’t 'aged' since the day I was born, and the sight of it was as jarring as being alive itself. My eyes were the same, a startling neon pink.

My expression looked different. I was staring at my reflection with an open mouth, breathing water as easily as air. I'd been stunned by the sight of my hair. It wasn't a mop of short white curls. Not anymore. In its place were long, flowing locks of deep blue. The colour, shape and length was familiar. Reassuring.

I wasn't in the same green liquid from the jar. This was different, too. I'd grown since my death, too. Why was I alive? Why was I able to breathe?

I looked to my hair, and wondered if it was a gift. I'd inherited her hair. Was the ability to breathe underwater a gift of the [Queen]? It was a strange thought, but my thoughts had grown different in a way I couldn't perceive. I felt elation in my chest, a frightening feeling that shouldn't have been there at all. Alien. As anxious as it made me, I leaned into the emotion. Any sensation was a welcome distraction from the hollowness.

The world beyond the glass was shifting in hue. I could see a white, tiled roof and set of artificial lights hanging peacefully above. The lights were marred every few seconds, turning from a calm, reassuring white to a deep, dangerous crimson, warping my reflection. On the other side of the glass, a muffled voice spoke in a foreign tongue.

I stretched my bare body as much as I could within this prison. I felt warm. Larger. Fuller.

The metal held me back. It was restrictive. I called on her to help me, to save me, and she answered. Slender pink hands came to my rescue as I reached upwards, shearing through the wall of glass with clean strokes. It parted without effort, a split through the middle followed by incisions along the edges, parting it from steel. With my legs, I pushed the two faces of my prison away, sitting up in my watery coffin.

The sounds of warning were clearer now. I didn't listen to the words, but I felt my face curl up into a smile. It was almost as though they were admonishing me for not obeying the warnings and red light. I felt no desire to do so, not anymore. That hollowness was buried beneath something else, and I felt better than I had in years.

I climbed out of the coffin, and began to retch violently. My rise became a tumble as I fell out of the container, scraping my leg off the steel as I rolled to the floor, coughing and gagging. I couldn't breathe. My eyes bulged, both locked on the white tiles beneath me, praying for stability. I felt the contents of my stomach come up, splashing against the floor.

The air finally reached my lungs, and I began to breathe. Had the gift worn off...? Had I been deserted?

Aquagen, my mind supplied. It was an unfamiliar word, one that slipped into my awareness from an unseen location, one that I chased for answers. It was a liquid substance that lungs could breathe. The transition back to air was always a painful one. Despite the lack of memories to go with the knowledge within me, I knew it to be true.

My body trembled, greedily sucking in all the air I could, but I was alive. I'd been able to free myself. Unlike my first time being born, submerged in a container brimming with liquid, I had the power and agency to leave. The choice.

I took my hands off the cold floor, leaving two clean prints on the tiles among a puddle of vomit. As they rose, bits of food sloughed off the spectral hands that had protected me of their own free will. With spotless hands and a smile on my face, I rose to my feet.

The wall was just as cold as the floor. With the red light flashing at my back, I put her hands to work. I didn't know what to do with myself anymore, but I didn't feel that same empty abyss within me, swallowing up all thought. If nothing else, that comforted me.

With flawless hands, I carved a face into the empty wall. I wasn't an [Artist] or a [Painter], but it would do. I couldn't truly capture her beauty, or even her likeness, but the sight was enough to calm me. A round face, perfect eyes, long hair and-

'Escape'

"[Queen]?!?" I breathed, head whipping around to look over my shoulder, yet finding nothing.

I'd heard her. I'd heard her voice, clear as rain. I was breathing hard now, trembling as my eyes darted around the empty space. Searching for answers. Anything. I wanted to leave. I needed to leave. She wanted me to escape.

My hand brushed through the 'aquagen' in the tank. I let her hand out, a pink silhouette superimposed over my own. I saw the slender, perfect hand shiver, and I brought it back directly towards me. She cleaved through steel to allow my hand passage through the wall of the container as I touched the bare flesh of my leg. Water spilled out of the prison, washing away the bile and covering my feet. My hand reached for clothes, a long white shirt half-concealed in a compartment beneath the spot she'd razed.

The shirt fit me, reaching down over my knees. It felt too big, and I was certain my old body would have been buried beneath the folds. It was warm, and that was enough.

"Are you there, my [Queen]?" I murmured, bringing her arms to the fore as I carved into the wall.

Her right arm was bigger than her left. Thicker. Inflated. I glanced backwards, and stepped away from the thick gashes I'd left. Lowering my arms to the ground, I pressed the pink, spectral arms into the water. She drank, and she grew. I willed her to speak to me again, but she remained silent.

I asked her to grow, and she kindly accepted my request. The hands and lower arms grew, each becoming as large as my torso as it expanded beyond the wrist. She became more detailed. More faithful. Scales formed on her wrists and arms, leaving only the bare, beautiful fingers unmarred. With gentle swings, I let her tear the wall apart, ripping through stone and concrete as though moving through water.

I wasn't cold. I still had my Skills. Idly hoping she would speak to me again, I carved out a long, dark tunnel, moving further from the refreshing artificial light. I continued to burrow, and then her arms flickered and died.

I heard myself scream. An alien sound. It was the first time I'd ever heard anything like it leave my lips.

She wasn't gone for good. I could bring her back, perfect as ever. For a moment, I put her away, exploring with my own hands, not wanting to expose her to danger. I pressed my fingers against a pure black stone. Touching it made the hollowness come back. The emptiness. The lack of agency.

I tore my hand away from it, clutching it to my chest. I needed to escape.

I continued to dig, bringing her back to the fore as I tore around the black stone, careful not to touch the surface. I didn't know how long I'd been burrowing, and I didn't care. I was happy to move. Happy to be with her, even if she wasn't speaking to me.

When my hands touched dirt, I knew I'd gone too far. Once again, I redirected my course. Even in this dark, empty tunnel, the illumination of her hands gave me light. They kept me company as time trickled past me and the air grew stale. I found stone again, and felt relieved.

My exploration continued. I started to dig upwards, rather than forwards. Carving a slope of stone and gravel into my path. The black stone was completely gone now, left far behind, and I heard myself laugh. I was strong, now. Blessed. Gifted.

I scraped away a layer of dirt above me as snow spilled down from above onto her hands. I let them vanish as the snow fell to the tunnel floor. Light poured in through the hole. Not artificial, calming light, but a foreign, blistering glow. The same light I'd first seen on the worst day.

I wanted to turn back, but I remembered the [Queen's] guidance. I climbed out of the cold, shivering despite myself. The snow had never fallen this heavily back in the Human settlement. This was extreme.

'Walk'

The joy returned to drown out the hollow despair. Without a single moment of hesitation, I took the first step forward, away from the stone walls beneath the earth and into an open forest. She gave me strength, and she hadn't deserted me.

A small, traitorous, detestable part of me had wondered if the first word she'd whispered to me had been something I'd imagined. That it was fake guidance, rather than an authentic word of support.

Now, I was certain. She was here.

When thorns and stones pricked my legs and feet, I asked her for support. Her beautiful toga extended over me, a neon pink shield to protect me from the elements. I thanked her, and minutes later, I found the Humans.

Men and women wearing thickly furred outfits, all holding weapons. Swords, spears, bows. [Hunters], but still Humans.

I was still smiling when the Humans shouted at me, weapons drawn and pointed. A smile was the right thing to do when trying to blend in with Humans, wasn't it? A smile, a handshake, a kind word and an introduction.

That was what my mind told me to do, but my gut rumbled like thunder, spitting on the idea. I'd learned how to blend in with the Humans by necessity, not choice. The Human in front shouted at me again, the edge of his weapon glinting in the sunlight. I was still smiling.

They pointed blades at me as though I wasn't a Human. Could they tell? They looked shorter than me now. Smaller. I didn't need to listen or obey them. I wasn't one of their kind. I was like my creators. Like the [Queen]. A monster. The thought that I'd ever had to play the part of a 'Human' disgusted me. My skin rolled at the thought and the cold.

'Conquer'

I leapt forward, conjured limbs whirling in a frenzied dance. I'd never had to kill a Human before. These hands had only ever killed Bogworms and Direwolves. This felt more natural. Proper. These were the things that had killed the Lady of Rain. My [Queen]. She shielded me from blades and arrows, guiding my hand through flesh and bone.

When the snow was as red as the cave floor on the worst day of my life, I stepped forward, making the constructs disappear and reappear once again, cleaning the blood from her hands. I was happy that she was helping me, but she didn't deserve to be dirtied like that. She deserved better.

I trudged through the damp snow and over severed limbs, reaching down to pick up the last living Human. It wouldn't have been 'conquering' without taking a slave. It was what she wanted.

I spoke to him, a choked gargle that didn't sound like words at all. I worked up a ball of phlegm and blood, spitting to clear my mouth and throat. Then, I smiled.

"Where did you come from?"

Weeping like a newborn, the Human gave me directions. They pleaded for their life as I walked, carrying them under one arm. I felt calmer now that they'd obeyed me. Was this what being royalty felt like? To have people want to hear your every word, eager to fulfill their duties? The security? I didn't deserve it, but that too was part of her blessing. Her gift to me, for keeping her memory alive. Perhaps I did truly deserve it, and my place in the pecking order had changed.

I was breathing hard now. Starving and parched. The Human led me to a wall. A dark, towering structure. I was reminded of the walls of man I'd seen before. That of the Human settlement on the island, and the wall I'd climbed on my last day as a free man. The wall of Addersbrook.

Even though I needed slaves, I couldn't carry him over the wall with me. I left his warm body behind in the snow, my shoulders feeling lighter as she dug her hands in the stone, giving me handholds with which to rise. More and more gifts.

'Climb'

I was moving before the word had even appeared in my mind. I was loyal, and was beginning to understand what she wanted of me. I could obey before the order had even been spoken.

The climb was slow, but relaxing. I was starving, and sore, and tired, but relieved. I had a purpose again. A drive. I felt better after killing the Humans. I didn't feel any resentment towards them for what they'd done, but she had. The [Queen] was still alive within me. I had no reason to hate them, but the dance we'd shared had been liberating.

I stared upwards as I climbed, the wind whipping at my near-bare body and long hair. The cold tried to reach me, but she appeared as a shield, tearing through the biting gale before it touched my flesh. The snow tried to blind me, but she protected me. I could see through the shield she'd formed above my face, casting the word in a bright, beautiful pink. I felt myself smile.

I thought of the last wall I'd climbed. I thought of the confident girl with the sunset fur, and the scaled girl with arms clad in metal.

They had appreciated my abilities. Been impressed by the work of her hands. I'd worked hard to become an adventurer, and had finally found people that had accepted me, ones that I had almost felt ready to accept in turn. But now, I suspected they were dead, like I had been. It felt like a waste.

Her hands guided me up the wall until the ground below was invisible, hidden beneath the cover of night.

Were they killed like I was? Torn open or burned alive? Had they changed like I had? Been reborn and blessed? I found that I didn't feel too bothered either way. If they were alive again, that was their business. I didn't need their approval anymore. I'd gotten her guidance back.

I arrived at the top of the wall. I saw buildings larger than any I'd seen before. They dwarfed the measly Human structures in every other town. Impressive. Worthy of conquering. Her body shielded me, preventing the raging winds from shoving me off my perch. I was crouched down, and if I wasn't careful, I would fall. I was stronger than a Human, but I wouldn't survive a drop like-

'Jump'

I leapt, spreading my arms and legs wide as I entered the Human city. The city with massive walls and a ceiling of sky. Inferior to the protection and comfort of a claimed cave.

I felt her form around me, and knew what she wanted me to do. I curled up into a ball as her arms and clothes formed a sphere around my form. Wind whistled in my ears as the snow-covered stone below drew closer. I'd never felt safer.

We tore through the snow and stone, leaving a deep depression in the pavement. She unfurled, obliterating debris while letting me rise to my feet with a smile. Even that had been nothing for her.

I was in a dump. A Human slum of empty, ruined buildings. I felt a bitter hollowness at the sight. Was our cave like this, now? Reduced to barren corridors and lonely halls? The snow changed to rain, pelting down against the world around me.

She swelled and grew, drinking from the falling tears as more spilled down my face. I offered them to her as a hand brushed over my cheeks, feeding her. I stared upwards as she expanded, whole again. A beautiful visage stared back, a face no [Artist] could ever hope to capture. I was no [Artist] either, but she had chosen me. She was alive, and so was I. If I had nothing else, I still had her.

'Alive'

The word echoed my thoughts. She was listening to me, too. The tears streaming down my face intensified, an offering she greedily accepted without hesitation.

She'd been with me all along, and I'd inherited her will. I would live up to her legacy, to her expectations, and rebuild her kingdom. I was here to support her, and she was here to guide me. I would do anything she needed. Anything she requested. Deep in my heart, I felt joy watching her grow, becoming a replica of her flesh and blood self in deep pink light, standing twice my size.

She was my [Queen], and I was the man she'd chosen to inherit her will. The one she would guide and bless to conquer this new kingdom. Her dutiful servant. Her child.

Her Prince.