The nymph of the stream,

Aerth,

who had called to Shadow-Thing

with her airy melodies,

watched him intently

as he sated himself

with her waters.

What sort of creature was this?

From what strange union

did he spring forth?

His skin was a splotchy, bile-like

gray color,

with haphazard patches of

curled, oily hair.

He was beastly, tall,

with shoulders like a felled tree,

sturdy, though unsteady, legs,

and thick, powerful hands

that seemed astonished

by themselves.

The nymph smiled to herself,

amused

with the peculiar man.

She could have him,

if she so wanted.

He was spectacularly ugly,

in a way that was arousing

to her,

and it was such a lovely day —

but she was already nursing

a human child

begotten

from another wandering

stranger.

But what a marvel!

She had never seen

such a man before.

Shadow-Thing had his fill

of the water.

He wiped his mouth

with the back of his wrist,

and then watched the sun

shimmer

on the rocks and pebbles

under the water

as he caught his breath.

The water had been satisfying,

but the emptiness in his belly

seemed to have grown more

gigantic,

and Shadow-Thing

was confused.

While so elated

a moment ago,

now he was reminded

of his discomfort

and longing for something

he could not identify.

He felt lost.

Shadow-Thing got to his feet.

He lifted his head

and saw tree branches crowding

above him.

He missed the open sky

from before.

But he did not remember

which way he had come.

He picked a direction

that felt natural,

and started moving through

the wood,

his feet stepping across twigs

and grasses,

his legs scraped and brushed

by the foliage.

The forest appeared

endless

in all directions.

Beautiful, tweeting melodies

came out of the rustling leaves

above him,

and coins of sunlight dropped through

openings in the canopy,

illuminating patches of underbrush

in columns of golden light.

Shadow-Thing made his way

through the trees,

starting to become

disheartened,

for he was still hungry,

and he was tired,

his head buzzed,

he had countless cuts and scrapes

from the foliage,

and mud squished between his toes.

He wished an answer

would come to him,

but he also was afraid

to change direction

after coming so far.

Shadow-Thing pushed through the forest

for quite some time.

After a while,

his despair having grown

to colossal heights,

he started to smell something

in the air,

a scent so intoxicating,

his eyes widened,

his mouth filled with saliva,

and his muscles became ecstatic

and desperate.

He followed the scent, buoyant,

until he heard strange voices,

and could see

pungent smoke

drifting through the air.

Shadow-Thing came to

a small lizardman village

nestled in the trees,

its inhabitants

cooking a boar on a spit.

Shadow-Thing

rushed towards the lizardmen,

joyously,

his eyes wide in excitement,

his smile impetuously large

for

he had found men,

like him,

fellow beings,

he was not alone.

But

when the lizardmen saw him,

their brows clenched and

they exploded in their hissing, snarling

language,

hurling threats and curses

at Shadow-Thing.

Shadow-Thing did not

understand them,

and when he tried to speak,

only mushed sound came out of his lips.

The lizardmen spat

and threw rocks

and cow manure

at Shadow-Thing.

One of them drew a knife.

Shadow-Thing lifted his hands

to protect himself,

his monstrous face

in fright.

He heard someone shout,

and a half-breed woman,

both reptilian and human,

entered the fray.

She was middle-aged,

with her green hair braided down her back,

and her voluptuous but scaled

body

covered in a cheap brown tunic.

The woman shook her fist

at the men,

who cowered angrily in her presence.

Shadow-Thing didn’t understand her.

The half-breed woman

looked at him, puzzled.

She grabbed his wrist

and tugged him away.

“Come with me,” she said,

in human language.

The men called out threats

but did not follow.

“You must be stupid,

or cursed in the head,”

the half-breed told him

as she dragged him away.

“They smell your fear,

but they do not smell

your ferocity,

like I do.

There is too much trouble

for more trouble.

I will help you.

I am Nasha the Serious.”

to be continued...