Over the past week, Belch learned that she couldn’t do many things. She couldn’t fly like a bird or swim as fast as a fish in a pond; they tested many things to no avail. She couldn’t jump over mountains or harden her skin to match a boulder. Her speed and agility were above average, unchanged.

And she couldn’t read.

Yet, Pedr kept claiming she could if she tried hard enough.

How could anyone read? Twenty-six letters in the Huish alphabet, and each of them had a different pronunciation going with it. The most she could muster to read were three-letter words that ended with ‘at.’ Bat, cat, hat, rat, and pat. Pedr said that had been a good start, though, when Belch found out there were words with lengths as long as twelve letters, she doubted she could ever grasp reading. Maybe when she was as old as Corden.

How old would that be? Belch wondered. Forty years? How long did it take for one to have wrinkled skin and gray hair?

Pedr knew how to teach, however. He never fell for her tricks, trying to get him to pronounce the words for her. Everything Belch learned she grasped thanks to him, despite her struggling to do it well.

The shed she studied in, once caked in dirt, was now clean. Makeshift repairs were done with wooden boards covering up the holed walls, keeping the wind and natural light out apart from a lone window by the front door.

Belch had trouble standing still, being so close to the outside air. They had returned from an afternoon workout, and they had to begin reading again after they ate their turkey sandwiches for lunch.

Pedr gave her a children’s book. Each page had a picture with a small sentence underneath. Something Pedr claimed was easy yet overwhelmed Belch. The images hint at the words, yet Belch hadn’t known what most of these things were to begin with; “bats” looked like sticks, “pencils” looked like thinner sticks, and “candy” looked like chocolate.

She studied them before reading the word out loud, noting a dog, a hat, and a ball. “A d-dog p-p-plays wit—thh a b-ball.”

“You’re getting it,” Pedr said.

“I don’t feel like I am.” Belch sighed. Her brain fried every second she tried reading. Every letter, she had to pull from her mind to make sure the letters fit phonetically.

“What do you mean?” Pedr laughed. “You are literally reading.”

“At a slug’s pace,” Belch snorted.

“Gotta start from somewhere,” Pedr said. He flipped the page for her. “It takes practice and repetition. Think of it as a skill.”

“A skill?” Belch asked. “Like fighting?”

“Exactly like fighting,” Pedr explained. “The more you work at it, the better you’ll be. You weren’t a good fighter when you first started, right?”

Belch nodded. Exactly! She used to be garbage at fighting. Disposable trash. If she had fought with her brain and eyes, then there was no reason she couldn’t read with them either. Pedr was right!

“Reading is a challenge,” Belch smiled. “Something that can I try over and over again until I win, right?”

“Uhh,” Pedr hesitated. “If by win, you mean, be proficient, then I suppose that’s right.”

She started beaming. Her head snapped to the page. “The,” she read. “P-pin drrops in a p—”

Pile the word said in front of her. She could read up to the third letter, but that had been where she struggled. The letter ‘l’ had been in words like ball, but she didn’t know how to go about pronouncing a lone ‘l’ in the middle of a word.

She gave it a shot. “Pilehh,”

Pedr laughed.

“What?”

“Damn children’s book,” Pedr said, amused. “It’s pronounced pile.”

Belch lowered a brow. “Not pilehh? What about the e at the end?”

“That’s how you pronounce an e after an l.”

“What the hell!” Belch grimaced. “What is this language!”

Pedr slapped the top of his knee. “It’s the language you’ve been speaking since birth, only written out.”

“A stupid language,” Belch crossed her arms. She went back to the sentence. “A pin drops in a p-pile.”

“Good,” Pedr said. “Perfect.”

“It’s easy the second time,” Belch shrugged.

Pedr grinned. “Everything is easier the second time. And even easier the third time, as it is the fourth. Like any skill, you need repetition and consistency. Reading is a muscle to the brain, something that needs to be flexed and worked upon to build. Like strength or speed, you need to tear some fibers before you make any progress. It’s good that you’re struggling, so long as you struggle a little bit less the next time.”

Belch nodded, turning the page.

The sun was falling over the horizon as the light of day started to diminish throughout the sky. Exhausted—both mentally and physically—Belch barely brought herself back up the steep forested hill back up to the city. She moved in a slog, keeping pace with Pedr, who walked with prudence, assisting himself by leaning in and touching the ground with his hands, walking like one of the cats Belch learned about recently.

Belch liked the walk up the hill, despite her current drained state. The best part of a Summer day had been a Summer night, where the breeze started to settle in. Today, she wore a salmon-colored shirt since her favorite purple shirt was in the wash. White jeans as always, since she had five pairs of those. Her legs were tense, but it was her stomach that ached, desperate for food.

Every night, Lorn blessed them with his luxurious meals. He changed the courses every night, going from meat, to pasta, to other meats throughout the week. Every meal wasn’t exactly a buffet, but the food had tasted great, no matter what he served her.

Yet, Lorn had never served her human. Belch thought that beasts craved human flesh, that it took a lifetime of restraint to get them to settle eating the lesser animals. That was what they had told her growing up.

Belch couldn’t prove for sure whether or not they were wrong. How could she debate what she never experienced? If a human was served in front of her, well, what would she do? On her mind now wasn’t human flesh, but the meat of a “cow” or “pig.”

But one never knew, especially when Lorn was in the kitchen. He gave her food she never heard of before, and she would swear that had been the best meal of her life. When it came to dinner, Belch trusted—an unbeastly trait—that whatever Lorn delivered would satisfy her.

They took a break at the top of the hill, letting Pedr regain his breath. Belch scanned around, noticing the south checkpoint in sight, still open. When the sun completely fell, they would close the gate, making them run along the fence to the east entrance open every hour of the day. They hadn’t yet missed the deadline to enter the city for that to be an issue, but the thought that they might have to traverse the city walls for an hour just to enter Ryuso daunted her, especially when she was this tired.

On a better night, she would at least want to hike across the lifted ridged-edge once and see the whole city, both in and out the fenced walls. There was an adventure in the terrain; she wanted to walk everywhere. Her life this past week had been the freest she had ever been, despite having another rigorous schedule to follow. She hadn’t yet pushed the limits to her freedom, afraid that by doing so, she would have it stripped away.

All Belch wanted now was a bath, a biscuit, and a long nap. This new daily routine shouldn’t have been so taxing. Her old life had labor and fighting, and yet even at night, she had been full of energy. All she did here was read and occasionally work out and test for the power supposedly inside her. The reading… Whenever she closed her eyes, she spotted letters in purple, unable to escape their eternal wrath. There wasn’t as much excitement in reading as there had been in fighting. Yet, reading was just as challenging, which made it almost addicting to her.

Dammit, Belch thought. Now I want to read.

When Pedr recovered, they entered through the south gate, entering Ryuso, Dormoor’s capital city. With such a dark color scheme of black and silver-gray, lamp posts saved the city from total darkness as the sun finally set.

Reaching central, Pedr went off course, turning down a wide street, with tightly packed businesses stretching down the commercial block. Few roamed the streets this late at night, though the most prominent that did were called the graycoats, the Ryuso police. Each officer had a sword attached to their black trousers, and obviously with their name, gray coats over their torso hanging halfway over their thighs.

They stopped outside of a glass front, with bright, vibrant lights shining from the inside. An emblem of a tall, cylinder-shaped glass with a light brown liquid with a cloud of foam at the top, dripping down the side.

“I’m going inside for a moment,” Pedr said. “How old are you again?”

“I don’t know,” Belch shrugged. “Sixteen, maybe? I’m not sure.”

“Right,” Pedr sighed. “Well, I don’t think you can come inside with me. Can you do me a favor and stay put for a minute?”

“What are you doing?” Belch asked, worried. She hadn’t been out at night by herself before, always by Pedr’s side whenever there were stars in the sky.

“Lorn asked me to pick him up some drinks,” Pedr explained.

“Drinks? Like water?”

“No, grown-up drinks,” Pedr smiled.

“Am I grown up?” Belch asked.

Pedr hesitated. “Depends on how you define an adult. Physically, you’re close. But, mentally? Well…”

Belch frowned.

“Stay put, okay?”

Belch nodded reluctantly as Pedr entered the store. She peered through the colored glass, barely able to make his enormous figure through the tinted window. Pedr moved to the back left corner. By his pace, shuffling through the shelves, he was going to take longer than he claimed. Belch sighed, trying to distract herself with something else.

The sign, she noticed. A blue lettered sign spelled something at the top of the building—a tricky word, she could tell right away. “Brr,” she attempted. “Ew—er-ey.”

She cleared her dry throat, thirsty at the image of drink on the glass. “Brrewerey,” she said again. “Brrewerey.”

Is that right? Belch wondered. “Brrewerey brrerereyyy. Brrewerey.”

She blinked, giving up—

A metal can scrunched and rung from beside her, jumping Belch’s heart. She took a step back, looking right to the alleyway the sound came from. She cautioned forward, finding a woman flying out from inside the alleyway, crashing down to the concrete floor in front of her.

Her head turned to Belch. “Oh Gem God!” the woman shouted, her face bruised and scarred with dried scabs with traces of more recent blood. “Help me! You have to help me!”

Belch tilted her head, confused.

“My husband’s trapped under a dumpster!” she cried, getting to her feet. Her knees bruised, leaking blood down her exposed calves. She had silver hair, ragged clothes similar to what Belch wore entering Dormoor. “You have to help me lift it off of him! Please!”

Belch nodded as the young lady turned into the alleyway. Her hurried step started to slow as they got halfway through the alley. Her crying also stopped, which prompted some concern from Belch. She looked around, peeking past the battered woman’s shoulders to see a dumpster ahead, though, no signs of anybody stuck underneath.

Everything so far in the alley felt quiet. Dim, green lighting from the full moon below the dotting stars gave the atmosphere a shade of algae. Down in between the brick walls, the once crying lady stopped moving.

“Isn’t your husband supposed to be under a dumpster?” Belch asked, looking at a plain-gray dumpster with the covers flipped open. Nobody was under it. Hell, there wasn’t any trash in the bin either.

The woman sighed before continuing forward, passing the dumpster before stopping once more.

As Belch approached, a man popped out from the side, startling her. She took a few steps back, greeted with a knife in his hand, pointing at her.

“Drop your money,” the man said. He had a silver jacket with a broken zipper, exposing his hairy bare chest underneath. He pointed to the floor with the knife. “Drop it now! Or else.”

Belch tilted her head. Money? “Oh!” she realized. “The thing used to buy food and drinks, right?”

“Drop it!” the man repeated.

Pedr gave her some of this money he was talking about once when she was hungry one morning. But she had none of the shiny disks on her. “I don’t have any rocks on me, sir.”

“Don’t play dumb with me!” the man snapped. He stepped forward.

“Rnuk, don’t!” the lady behind him called out. “It’s not worth it!”

“Shut up, woman!” Rnuk scoffed. “You have to count of three to drop your coins. One… two—”

“What are you eating?” Belch asked, looking to the knife. It was a funny-looking one, too, something larger than anything Belch ever used to cut a steak, but a blade she could see someone like Pedr using since it fit his hands better.

“Huh?” Rnuk grunted. “Alright, enough!”

“Rnuk…” the lady spoke softly. “She doesn’t have any on her. Let her go before you cause a scene.”

“Look at her,” Rnuk said. “She just wants trouble. She’s not afraid of me. How dare she!”

“She might be, you know… special?”

Belch frowned at the remark.

“What’s wrong?” Rnuk said, noticing. “You hate being special? It’s alright. Someone has to be special so others can be normal.”

Her frown burrowed deeper. She felt her face growing red, but not by embarrassment but anger instead. Belch wanted to turn around before Pedr noticed she was gone in the first place. This had been a waste of her time. “Is this all you needed me for?”

Rnuk frowned. “You bitches are all the same. That stupid young face of yours… pisses me off.”

“Rnuk!” the woman shouted. “Let her go.”

“Yeah yeah,” Rnuk said. He positioned his feet, pointing his left shoulder to Belch. Rnuk snickered. “But not without ruining her a bit.”

He lunged, swinging widely with his knife. Caught off guard, Belch shuffled two steps back, moving out of the blade’s path. I’m fighting, Belch realized. I’m fighting!

Rnuk swung once across his body, missing again. He lowered his head down before charging, thrusting his knife forward.

Belch brushed his wrist away with her left hand before she sunk inward, bringing her right fist from under, up, and into Rnuk’s chin, knocking him back. Not a strong punch, though it stunned him for a second.

Rnuk spat blood, grunting before continuing forward, knife still in hand. She dodged his strokes, ducking under some while strafing away from others, keeping the blade’s edge inches apart from her body at all times.

His knife screeched of the alleyway wall, clinking behind her shoulder. Belch danced forward, jabbing Rnuk in the chest with her fingers, driving him back. Rnuk didn’t seem to understand how unmatched he truly was, as he kept pushing forward, trying to land a decisive blow. Despite his brown eyes, he still fought like a beast without a sure path to victory.

After weaving her way away from the knife, she countered with a slap to the face. Rnuk, offended, bellowed. The bang of her hand to his cheek pleased Belch, all while deeply angering Rnuk. She hopped on her feet, bouncing up and down, always ready to shift her body one way or another.

Rnuk bellowed, charging. The only difference between this fight and the ones back home was the knife Rnuk wielded. Other than that, it felt all too familiar to her. Only now, it was her life on the line.

And Belch didn’t want to be Rnuk’s steak.

She caught his right wrists with both hands, the blade’s tip a few inches from her head, stopped just in time. Rnuk swung his left fist over to punch in a panic, but by the time it could arrive, belch already drove forward, hands on his arm; she twisted and yanked down, flipping him over his stomach. She fumbled for the knife as he released it midair. With a swipe of her right hand, she caught the knife, slamming down to Rnuk’s exposed throat.

She stopped a few inches off of his throat. With the knife in hand, she saw Rnuk’s life flash before his eyes.

“Please!” Rnuk pleaded. He quivered, afraid of her like the beast she was. Only Belch started to realize something. A feeling—or a lack thereof. “Don’t kill me!”

Belch smiled. “I’m… not going to eat you!” she found herself beaming of the reflection off the side of the knife. “I’m not hungry for you!”

“W-what?”

“I have a knife to your neck,” Belch explained, amazed. Her eyes finally felt open. “And I have no desire to eat you! How can I be a beast if I’m not hungry for humans? They… lied to me!”

“You’re insane!” Rnuk mumbled from the floor.

“I’m not even sure what insane means,” she laughed. The lady beyond look at her with horror. “But I know now that I’m at least human!”

“Get off of me!” Rnuk said.

Suddenly, a light flashed in the alleyway. “What’s going on in there?”

“Shit!” Rnuk shouted. “Help me officers! She’s attacking me!”

Two officers approached. Belch got off Rnuk, knife still in her hand.

Rnuk aided himself up from the dumpster. He turned to the graycoat officers, who shone lights on the three inside the alley.

“Who are you three?” a graycoat asked. “What’s going on?”

“She lured us into this alley,” Rnuk started. “Then she threatened to attack us if we didn’t give her our gold!”

Belch frowned. It actually happened the other way around…

Before she could explain, the graycoat laughed. “You expect us to believe someone in her clothing asked for money from a couple in yours? I can spot a liar from a mile away, buddy. Don’t think you can trick me, okay?”

“It’s true!” Rnuk lied. “Look at the knife in her hand!”

Belch lifted the blade up to show them. “I took it from him.”

The graycoat frowned. “You disarmed him?”

She nodded.

“Unlikely…” he hesitated.

The other graycoat stepped forward. “Wait a second Tiyo,” he said, pointing at Belch. “She’s the girl we were briefed about, remember? Vessel.”

“Oh!” Tiyo laughed. “Where’s your swole friend… what was his name, Pedr?”

“He’s in the brrewerey.”

They frowned simultaneously before it clicked for them. “Oh, gotcha. Listen, can you go back to him? Enter the store if you have to, alright? You shouldn’t be alone at night. We’ll settle this for you.”

“Are you kidding me!” Rnuk shouted. His voice faded as Belch walked out of the alleyway and back to the sidewalk. The weight of a boulder dropped from her shoulders, and she felt suddenly confident.

If she were a beast, she would have been hungry for Rnuk, right? A knife in her hand to his throat, she could have cut him up like meat. She didn’t starve for human flesh, something they always claimed a beast did. It was another lie.

Unless I don’t like raw human meat… no, I don’t think so.

Maybe they lied to me, Belch thought. She felt herself agreeing with the idea that she had been human. While the thoughts felt traitorous, it explained a lot, if true. A part of herself deep down was reinforcing that idea.

And if she was human and not a beast, wouldn’t that make her eyes perfectly fine too? She felt that even having the thought was dangerous, questioning the wickedness of her green eyes. Though, without a tamer to put her in check, she had the freedom to believe whatever she wanted to.

And so, she started to believe in her humanity rather than deny it ever existed.

Before she could enter the store, Pedr stepped out first. He looked to Belch, patting her on the head. “Ready to go home? You must be starving.”

Belch nodded. But not for human, she smiled.

They walked side by side on the sidewalk, going forward.

“So,” Belch started. “How was the brrewerey?”

“The what? Oh!” Pedr laughed. “Good job! That’s very close! It’s pronounced brewery, though.”

“So it wasn’t right?” Belch frowned. “I was so confident too!”

“Well,” Pedr said, smiling in the cold thin air. “It was close enough.”