Kreet lay awake in her cell for a long time that morning before finally succumbing to nervous exhaustion. Becoming an officially recognized Acolyte was reason enough. Knowing the Abbot supported that decision was even more inspiring. But for all that her mind kept straying back to that kiss. She realized that, as much as she had learned from Ka'Plo and her time here in the Monastery about humans, she knew shockingly little about their social life outside of the Cloister. Being raised in what was essentially an all-male institution certainly didn’t help. There were certainly other boys here besides Brand and Karl, but she didn’t spend much time with them. There was a sort of bonding between the three of them since they’d all been outsiders. But they were all too young to really care much. Their lives were essentially tied up around avoiding getting punished and unbridled play when they could get away.

But now she realized just how much of an outsider she really was. She looked down at herself. She’d never given much thought to just how different she really was from everyone around her. She’d seen pictures of kobolds and knew her body would start changing soon. Her hips would widen to the ridiculous proportions she had seen of the female kobold shape. Her tail would lengthen. Her horns would continue growing. She would lose the inherent cuteness of her youth. Standing only 3 feet tall, at best she might grow another foot. The boys were already much bigger than she was, and that difference would only increase.

Why had he kissed her? The hug was clear enough. It was a comforting touch, meant to reassure her that she was important to him. But she had never been kissed before, by anyone! Sure it was just a peck. Insignificant really. Just an expansion of the hug, she felt sure. It wasn’t even a gesture that was universal. Only humans and others with similar facial structures kissed. Her kind certainly didn’t! But she had read enough to know it was a significant action for them. It both bothered and delighted her in ways that she couldn’t understand. But she did understand one thing, the Cleric and the Abbot were going well beyond their Rule in allowing her to become an Acolyte. They saw potential in her, potential worth breaking that Rule for. She swore to Pelor that she would do her utmost to see that the potential would not be wasted. She would do her very best to become a true Cleric.

—————-

The days after that were hectic. She didn’t spend much time with Karl and Brand, though she did go with Brand to visit Karl as he was recovering. But she poured herself into her studies. During her formal class time with the Cleric she remained focused and only rarely did she find herself looking at his eyes and beard rather than the topic at hand. She also learned that being a Cleric was more than healing spells and magical wards. The purpose of a Cleric was to go out into the world and assist Pelor in bringing Light. She understood now that Light was a euphemism for Good, and that she could support wholeheartedly. But the Cleric also pointed out that she had another goal as a Cleric. She would also be an ambassador for her race. Her diminutive size would never inspire fear, but if she kept herself on the right path and did Pelor’s will, she could show the world above that the kobold was not necessarily a creature of evil.

As part of the training to be a Cleric, she must also become proficient in Martial Arts though. Experience with blunt weapons was assumed of a true Cleric, but she found the training difficult. Her mind was keen, but her body just didn’t fit the regimens that were ascribed to the human cleric. In this area both her and her tutor were treading new ground. Weeks went by, but try as she might she simply could not muster the power or finesse of wielding a weapon more complex than a solid shaft.

The scaled skin of a kobold did not reveal bruising like human skin did, but she certainly felt them anyway as she trudged to the training area where the Cleric awaited after breakfast one morning. This was the day dedicated to physical training and she was not looking forward to it. She felt sore in a dozen places since the last training. Worse yet, she still was only training against a straw dummy. She had not dared to spar with Brand yet, and Karl was still limping from his fall. As she passed within the low stone wall that defined the training ground, she saw the Cleric sitting and meditating within. She headed to the weapon rack and took down her shortened stave, sighed, and began stretching exercises.

“Kreet, I’ve been thinking…” her Master said through closed eyes.

She halted her exercises and walked over to him. “Sir?”

“Do you know why we practice in the Martial Arts, Kreet?” he asked, opening his eyes.

“To defend ourselves and others when we begin our Apostlate,” she said, practically quoting from one of the handbooks.

“That’s right. We could do little good in the world if we got ourselves killed the minute something attacked us. And things will attack us. Besides the minions of Darkness, simple wild beasts, marauders and bandits are everywhere out there in the wider world.”

“And they would kill me on sight,” she muttered, looking down at her clawed feet.

“Kreet, I’m not going to lie to you. They would. You will always be well-advised to stay with a group out there. You need to know how to handle some weapons anyway. But I think maybe we’ve been going about this all wrong. I’ve been trying to teach you human tactics which work well for humans. But they are perhaps not the best for a kobold like yourself. Perhaps we should try to learn kobold tactics instead. What do you know about kobold fighting?”

Kreet had brightened up until that last question. “I’m sorry, Sir, but I was very young when I was taken out of the caverns. I never learned anything about fighting. I’ve read all I could find about kobolds in the library, and Master Ka'Plo’s books of course. But they don’t say much about actual fighting. They go into great detail about some of the kobold traps, but it seems like when it got down to actual fighting, kobolds are just berserkers.”

The Cleric nodded agreement. “Which isn’t a very good tactic when your biggest fighters are only four feet tall. Nevertheless, Kreet, your Creator gave you some pretty impressive weapons given your size. Those teeth are not just for chewing up potatoes and beef. I notice you’ve been filing down your claws too. Stop doing that. You’re not a human and those are superior weapons you should keep honed. I’ve seen how nimble you are with them, and I notice they are partially retractable too. I’ve no fear you’ll accidentally hurt someone with them.”

“No Sir. I just… I didn’t want to stand out too much I guess,” Kreet explained sheepishly.

The Cleric put a hand on her shoulder, “Sorry Kreet. But… you will stand out whether or not your claws are filed. And then there’s your foot-claws. Kreet, those are deadly if you learn to use them.”

Kreet, who had been sitting before her Master, lifted a foot and looked at it. The modified sandal had been cut away to make room for her claws. “My feet?” she said, contemplating the massive claws there.

“Obviously. Let those claws grow back out again too. Kreet, those are your best weapons. With them and your massive legs behind them, you could eviscerate the most powerful wild animal. They won’t pierce armor, but there’s always a weakness somewhere you can exploit if you need to get physical with an opponent. Primarily you should avoid that, but you won’t always be able to. Today we’re going to work on ways you can best use those weapons. And I’m going to armor myself because once you’ve gotten good at their use, and let the grow back to their normal size, you could really cause damage.”

Kreet looked back at her foot and wiggled her massive ‘toes’. She smiled, just a little.

—————————–

From that day on, she no longer dreaded the Martial Arts training. After a few months her claws on her hands and feet had recovered their natural shape and sharpness. For his part the Cleric took his knowledge of the hand-to-hand Martial Arts techniques and tried to expand it to accommodate both the benefit of a strong tail and the detriment of short stature. He also implemented some moves the Dwarves had perfected, which turned shortness into a benefit. The training was still tough, but now Kreet felt it was a type she was comfortable with. Her legs and tail grew ever stronger.

However, her friend Karl had not grown stronger. As days became months it became clear that the limp that he had gained since the fall was not going away. The other boys had begun to call him Karl the Gimp behind his back and, on occasion, to his face. Not Brand of course, but neither Brand nor Kreet could be around to defend their friend at all times of course, and boys can be hurtful at that age.

“Why didn’t you just let me die?” Karl confessed one day when they were alone in their secret treehouse. Brand had been unable to join them that day so it was just Karl and Kreet this day.

“Karl, they’re just saying that to bug you. You know that, don’t you?”

Karl turned to her, tears in his eyes. “I know it, but it works damn it.”

Kreet scooted closer to her friend and wrapped an arm around him. “They call me Gator you know,” she said, trying to comfort him.

Karl snorted and looked down at his friend. “Kreet, We call you Gator too!”

“I know. But you are my friends. It’s different.”

“I don’t think I’m going to be a Cleric, Gator,” Karl said, laying back against the wooden floor. “I’ll never pass the Physicals now.”

“Of course you will Kay,” Kreet responded, using their nickname for him. “You’re the best Acolyte of us all!”

“Except for the Martial Arts. I saw you the other day in the Training Ground. Kreet, you’re incredible!”

“Aww, you’re just saying that because you love me,” Kreet teased.

“No, really. That high kick you did with your tail. That was really something!”

“Well, thank you Kay. But I hear you can do the Guiding Bolt already!”

Karl wiped the tears out of his eyes, which suddenly sparkled with Mischief. “I can! Wanna see?”

“Really! You really can?”

Karl nodded triumphantly.

“Prove it!” she challenged him and he stood up and walked to the door. Kreet crawled beside him, head between his legs and looking out to see the fabled Guiding Bolt spell. Outside the only thing visible was the leaves and branches of the trees around them. Their treehouse was very well placed, deep in the woods that grew beside the Monastery and as of yet had not been discovered by anyone besides the three who built it.

“What should I hit?” he asked, looking down at the snout poking out between his legs.

“See that black tree towards the left? Hit that!”

“You got something against that tree Gator?” he snickered.

“Sure, it’s a Guiding Bolt magnet! I hate that tree. Kill it Kay!”

The boy closed his eyes and concentrated, then he opened them again, serenity on his face.

Nothing happened.

“Wait, wait… I gotta get my head straight. Gator, could you move your head. You’re distracting me.”

Kreet moved to his right and poked her head out between his knee and the door edge.

“Now, let me try again.”

He repeated the ritual, hands outstretched towards the tree. When he opened them, a blinding flash of light leapt instantly from him to the tree, breaking the trunk with it’s force halfway up it’s length and parallel to their treehouse.

“WHOA! Did you see that?” Karl asked, impressed by his own magic.

But Kreet did not see it. Kreet was completely blind.

“Kreet! Are you alright?”

“Karl, I can’t see! Are my glasses still on?”

“No, they came off when you fell back. Here,” the boy said, putting her glasses in her hands, his beginning to shake. She put the dark glasses back on, but she was still completely blind.

“Oh shit,” she said.

“Oh shit is right! Maybe it will come back after a while.”

“Sure it will. Let’s just… wait here a while.”

They waited as the afternoon wore on.

“No, it’s alright, I’m not really a girl anyway. Not like you mean.” Kreet was saying. She was keeping her eyes closed, hoping that would help them recover. It also let her forget about her blindness for a while and not panic.

“Yeah, I guess that’s true. Anyway I was taking my clothes to the laundry and she was in that side room - you know, the one with the bath?”

Kreet nodded. Of course they all knew every inch of the Monastery and it’s grounds by now.

“Anyway, she was in the bath with the door wide open!”

“Oh wow! Did she see you?”

“I think so, Gator. I think she left it open on purpose!”

“So…” Kreet led him on, “…go on! What did you see?”

Karl held his hands under his breasts, but then realized Kreet couldn’t see him.

“Her jugs! I’m telling you those things were as big as melons, all bouncy and stuff!”

“Wow! Did you see the nipples!?” Kreet asked, every bit as interested as the boy.

He nodded, but again remembered she couldn’t see him. “Yeah! One anyway. Pink as your tongue!”

Kreet sighed. “I’ll never have nipples. I wonder what it’s like?”

“You’ll never have a dick either,” he said.

She estimated where he was and slapped him hard with her tail. “Guess what you’ll never have?” she snickered.

“OW!” he cried.

“It’s getting late. They’re going to start wondering where we are,” she said.

“Want to try it again?” Karl asked hesitantly.

She nodded and put the sunglasses on. This time she also covered her eyes with her hands. Then she slowly opened her eyes.

She saw nothing.

She looked up at Karl, or at least where she thought he probably was. “Nothing. Karl, I’m scared,” she admitted.

“Me too, Kreet. I’m so, so sorry! I didn’t think about your eyes!” he cried.

“I didn’t either,” she cried along with him.

They hugged and cried together, Karl repeating “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” while Kreet tried to comfort him, but it was hard to comfort someone else when you’re panicking yourself.

Finally, though, they had to get down. Karl guided her and held her hand as they found their way back to the Monastery.