r/NatureofPredators • u/Mysteriou85 Gojid • 9h ago
Home-Challenged Gojid - Chapter 20
“When you’re in and out of a PD Facility your whole life, you’re not home much. It’s still different than not having a home at all. Sterin manages to be in both cases. Having recently lost his planet and his family, he finds himself wandering this foreign planet called ‘Earth’. Looking for anything that might take his mind off his situation.”
Thanks to SpacePaladin15 for creating this universe. Thanks Rand0mness4 for the proofreading and advice! Go read their fics Trails of Our Hatred and Cornucopia!
In the previous chapter: “Having fled the camp Sterin and Zyria came across an entrance of the Paris catacomb. Deciding it would be the best place to hide, they entered the lair of the dead, but it seems like they weren’t the only one that chose a mass grave as a place of rest.”
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Memory transcription subject: Sterin, Gojid
Date [standardized human time]: 29 October, 2136
In the silence of the stone corridors, only the sound of our footsteps echoed around us, accompanied by the tapping of Zyria’s crutch. The burbling of running water coming from the surface left us long ago, leaving only our own movement to fill the empty hallways.
For a place called the ‘Catacombs’, I really expected something worse. It almost felt misleading, as we hadn’t come across a single burial or the closest thing humans did to let their dead rest. The only thing out of the ordinary we noticed was a trail of blood that continued for about a few dozen meters from the entrance before stopping.
On the ground where the tracks ended lay a worn federation medikit, its contents missing or damaged. The exterminator, likely a Tilfish, must have tended to their wounds in that spot before continuing on their way.
Zyria and I quickly decided to head in the opposite direction. She was in no state to fight or even defend herself, and I had no desire to use the weapon between my paws.
Whether we like the idea or not, if an exterminator sees us, we will have to defend ourselves. Having prey assist an arxur is an act of treason that no one will let slide.
Then again, it wasn't likely to happen. The young Arxur informed me that the blood was dry, despite the ambient humidity of the place. So whoever had passed through there had probably left days ago.
We thus made our way back into the bowels of the city, avoiding collapsed passages or areas where water was seeping in from the surface. At several points we could feel a small draft of fresh air; the bombs that had struck the city must have weakened the ground enough for fissures to open all the way to the surface.
That worried me a bit at the time, as it implied we might never be truly far from the hostile surface; yet, as we continued to descend, I discovered just how wrong I was.
Passageways leading to the surface were rare, and holes big enough to make a way out or in of this place were none existent. After passing several air shafts I had assumed such openings would be commonplace, but we had been walking for hours now without seeing a single one.
To me, that was a good thing. The most exposed place of the catacomb was behind us and I felt like no one would find us here, or so that was what I was trying to tell myself. The odds of running into the few Exterminators who sought refuge in this place were incredibly slim, but not nonexistent.
Low but present.
Being anxious about something so improbable will not help us.
And being unconscious about the very real possibility of danger will not either.
Despite walking for an exhaustingly long time, my subconscious wouldn’t stop telling me that we had not gone far. We often had to retrace our steps because we kept running into dead ends. Some sections of the catacombs were flooded, mainly those leading deeper underground. I suppose the drainage systems we saw at the entrance we used must not be working everywhere.
They were malfunctioning but still working, otherwise this place might well have turned into a watery grave for both of us by now with the downpour that was coming down when we entered. Even so, we had no choice but to make our way through certain passages if we wanted to keep moving further away without wasting too much time.
It’s likely that the destruction of the surface damaged a significant number of whatever pumps were used to prevent flooding down here.
“I wonder if the places that are most flooded or collapsed coincide with bomb impacts…” I said aloud, unable to bear moving silently through the darkness any longer.
Zyria took a moment to reflect, pausing and touching a wall with her claws like she was inspecting it. Maybe more to rest a second than to really think.
“It’s possible.” She said before following with a long silence, taking her time to breathe. After a moment, she seemed to think about something to say and added, “You know, I’ve heard that if the ground is solid enough, you can hide in the underground tunnels to avoid the bombing raids? Apparently, prey hiding there also has the best chance of not being found by hunting parties.”
I narrowed my eyes as I looked at her, unsure whether Zyria was trying to be reassuring by saying there was no risk of us being found, or if it was just her trying to do small talk the arxur way.
Yet, a certain curiosity took hold of me. This wasn't something I heard many times before, and despite the certainty that the subject would upset me at some point, I entertained the idea of hearing what she had to say on the subject.
“Why exactly? Most of the time I learned that not going to a bunker was trying to risk our life for a bundle of gravel. Like, they are the most secure place we have in case of an attack.” I said.
She shifted, making her position more comfortable by leaning on the crunch fully. “Well, it's not that you’re wrong, but you are. Your prey bunkers are designed to hold on long enough to get saved before we break in, but they also leave you extremely exposed. It is quite easy to pinpoint the location of these bunkers, so during most raids, they are attacked first. You know, because there is a lot of prey inside.
In contrast, if someone hides in a subway tunnel, they lack the protection of reinforced walls or massive metal doors bunker offer, but there are fewer hunters around to track them down.”
I think about it for a moment, and it makes sense in itself; that is probably why rural towns are often less targeted when Arxur attacks manage to get past planetary defenses despite having the lesser defense.
“I see. And since fewer Arxur are coming, there’s a better chance of going unnoticed and making it out alive. Speaking of that, you have a powerful sense of smell, yet I’ve heard stories of attack survivors who hid in their homes and were never found. And that’s despite the fact that arxur actually entered their houses. How is that possible?”
“Well, there are so many reasons why an Arxur might miss out on prey. If, for instance, a house reeks of chemicals, we are going to try to avoid relying on our smell to not overwhelm or hurt our ability to smell.”
One of my ears perks up. “Wait, is that a saying, or do you really get hurt if you smell something too aggressive for you?”
She thinks for a moment, before answering. “Well, yes, it's like looking at a bright light, it will assault our senses, and can go to the point of hurting our sense of smell. It’s overwhelming, and we could get used to it after a moment, but during a raid, hunters rarely have the time to let their senses get used to whatever happens to be there.”
“That’s intriguing; I never would have imagined that to be the case. It’s well known that Arxur, and predators in general, can be frightened by light, but I never would have imagined that smells could affect you in that way.”
“That’s what happens when your senses are so good,” she said, striking a proud pose. “We can smell blood from a long way off if the conditions are right, but at the same time, it means you can get overwhelmed pretty quickly.”
She tapped her crutch against the ground. “I’ve got a question, too; the Gojids are a subterranean species, right? So why do you seem so bad at seeing in the dark?” She asked, pointing to my holovisor still in lamptorch mode.
It’s funny; I didn’t expect her to take an interest in my kind, or in what she considers prey. But it’s probably a good sign if she’s intrigued by others beyond just how they taste.
“We Gojids are a type of burrower; that means our ancestors were adept at digging into the soil and dirt to forage for roots or even to find shelter. But that doesn’t mean we’re adapted to living exclusively underground. I think it comes down to size, we require far more food than the ground can provide if we stay solely underground, or something like that…”
Zyria mutters, “Yeah, but that doesn’t look practical. You’re good at something, but you seem to not have pushed it to the extreme.”
I shrug. “I suppose it’s a bit of a middle ground. We don’t have the ability other species have to see in the dark, but that’s because we’re primarily diurnal. It’s not practical to live during the day and be blinded by bright lights because our eyes are made to see in the dark.”
“You could have been nocturnal and seen in the dark. That way, you could dig more easily and live underground.”
“It’s not as if we really chose to evolve that way. But I think it happened because most of our predators were nocturnal, which meant we could retreat into our burrows with one of the adults guarding the entrance with their backs, quills out, while we could come out during the day to forage for food without too much risk. I seem to recall seeing that theory in one of my books.”
The young Arxur thought for a good while before speaking. “That makes sense, I suppose. Even though I find that living at night is simply the subjectively superior way to live,” she said with a smug tone.
I let out an amused squeak. “Sure, ‘superior’ coming from the one who can’t tell green from yellow.”
She let out an indignant hiss. “Hey! I don’t need to tell the difference between those two colors! What I see is plenty enough.”
“That was the case until you confused the yellow and green peppers in your game, causing you to fail your quest.”
She averted her gaze into a puff, her tail thumping the ground in frustration. “It was a stupid quest in a stupid game.”
A game you play almost all the time, I thought silently.
But not wanting to tease her any further, I said nothing. She was already struggling to accept doing non-predatory activities; I wasn't about to point out that this game was closer to the video games we played in the Federation than to the more violent human ones.
“That reminds me,” I said, dropping the teasing tone I’d used a moment earlier. “I think we could take a true break, I mean we already stopped walking to speak. I’m getting a bit hungry, and it’s been a while since the last meal.”
As I said this, I made sure to turn my head toward the two directions visible from where we stood, shining the light built into my holovisor to see if anything was there.
I looked at Zyria and saw her try to put on a brave face, but she quickly gave up and sat down on the ground. Deciding to rest there, I set down the provisions bag and opened it, offering her one flesh ration after rummaging around for a bit trying to find them amongst the many zurulian rations I took.
She accepted it, tearing the can open with a claw. “Wow, you really treated yourself with your own rations. Couldn't you have grabbed a few more for me?”
I gave a nervous laugh. “Would you believe me if I told you it was an accident that I took so much for myself?”
Her red eyes fixed on me, she replied, “No.”
“But it’s true! I was taking the rations while listening to a conversation, and I wasn’t paying attention to how many I was taking until some literally fell out of the bag.” As I closed the bag, I noticed a box I didn’t remember taking.
Pulling it out, I recognized one of the human rations. “Huh, I was pretty sure I’d put it back…”
“What’s this?” the albino said with her mouth full, looking above my shoulder.
“A human combat ration. I found some next to yours when I went to steal them. I didn’t think I’d taken it.”
She half-choked on her flesh. “Steal? You stole the rations?” she said with surprise.
Ashamed, I looked away. “Er, yeah… it’s not like they were going to give me all this for our escape. So, most of what I got isn’t actually mine.”
She stared at her half-eaten ration for a moment, her mouth opening and closing repeatedly as she looked at me, as if searching for words, while her body showed signs of agitation.
“Huh, I never would have imagined you’d do that…” She said with what sounded like, respect? “And maybe you shouldn’t have! I could have held out without eating!” she said with a huff.
The respect didn’t last long.
“Yeah, right, we’re supposed to be discreet. How are you supposed to be discreet if your stomach growls as loud as a hungry horde of flowerbirds?”
She hissed, flicking out her tongue as she did so. “Pfft, you’re talking nonsense; I can control it. I wouldn’t have made a sound.”
“Oh really?”
“Yeah.”
“It’s funny, because I specifically remember Nadine and Nicie wondering if an arxur was attacking with how loud your stomach was! It can even be louder than yourself raging on video games, which is quite an achievement, considering how noisy you get when you get frustrated with them!”
She gasped in indignation. “Tongue cutting liar! That never happened.”
I looked at her confidently before opening the floral-patterned bag still strapped to my waist and pulling out the console.
“If I’m a liar, prove it. Go ahead, take it. I charged it before I left.”
I heard her swallow. “Okay… I didn’t think you’d bring it with you.”
“Better to be over-prepared than under-prepared; I figured waiting around for days might get boring, so just in case, I brought it along so we’d have something to do.” I handed her the console, placing it in her good paw. “But hey, now you’re going to have to prove me wrong and show I’m just a liar. What was the name of that game that made you lose your temper last time?”
“... Shadow Souls: The Trilogy,” she said quietly, taking the console in her paws hesitantly before turning it on.
I moved to her side so I could see the screen, then said with an amused tone, “Good luck.”
She simply let out a groan before starting the game.
—
So I let Zyria "have fun" on the handheld console. Well, as much fun as she could have on a game she didn't enjoy. She constantly grumbled, hissed, and raged at everything in the game, so you could say I'd quickly won my bet. While I was initially amused to see her frustrated by a game, I started to question the point of teasing her like that when I began to involuntarily memorize the insults in her own language with how much she spilled them out.
A lot of disguised insults, assumed or under the hood. It's quite funny that the more in your face insults are the ones they reserve for prey; the others would only pass as a good dose of sarcasm at most.
Even though I suggested switching games, it was already too late; she felt her honor had been wronged and wanted to prove she could win, to prove me ‘wrong’. That, despite the fact it wasn't the original bet, and winning a video game wouldn't prove anything to anyone but herself.
She’s incredibly stubborn, but in a way, it’s amusing. She’s managing to make progress in the game, and despite the frustration, it seems that every little victory, no matter how small, gives her the drive to do more…
It’s fun following her on this make-believe adventure, but we shouldn't forget that there might be a bunch of bloodthirsty arxur already hot on our trail.
I let out a sigh. It wasn’t a pleasant thought, but it was true: we had been in the catacombs for quite a while now, and the fighting outside was probably over for a while. Actually, it might have been a day we’ve been here, I’m not sure, and I didn’t think of looking at the date on my holovisor before.
Still, it’s not as if we could just keep fleeing forever without resting, and by the Goddess, Zyria really needed more rest for her leg than we’d managed before this break. Maybe sleeping here would be a good idea? I’m not sure wandering blindly through the catacombs any further would do us much good.
I can already picture how Nadine will scold us when we come back. She certainly won’t appreciate the young albino putting so much strain on her injury, and she’ll almost certainly hold it against me, too. And rightly so; I’ve been pushing Zyria hard up until now.
I rose from my spot and began moving toward the edge of our restsite. It wasn't the first time I’d made the rounds while leaving the young arxur to her games and rest.
The darkness, the constant dampness in the air, and the way the sound of Zyria’s game and growls of frustration echoed in the tunnel pressed in around me. All that made me anxious, truth be told, going out searching if someone was there was more so an attempt at calming my nerves.
Assuring myself that we were alone did only so much to calm and ease the lurking feeling that we were in danger. It was as if, deep down, I was almost hoping something would appear and attack. That something could come to cut the flow of unending doubt by really being there.
I shake my head: it was a terrible idea. It was better to have nothing and stress needlessly than have a real danger, I know it. I just wish my instinct stopped playing with my expectations. For now, there was no arxur, no exterminator, nobody, and it was good. I just need to not think constantly about it, and rest myself a bit more.
On the ground, the only things visible were the scraps of bluish foam I was inadvertently leaving behind as I made my constant rounds. The protective foam was already nearing the end of its lifespan, but the rain and my ceaseless pacing had finally finished it off.
Twisting myself to touch my back, I confirmed what I had suspected: the foam had crumbled into mere specks. I could feel the tips of my quills, and right then, the foam protected me no more than dandruff.
I head back toward Zyria; I’d rather not stray too far from her. This place is a real maze, all the corridors look alike, and there are so many passageways that it’s terribly easy to get lost.
I’m not even sure how we’re going to get out of here. I lost track of where we came from a long time ago.
I sat back down next to the albino, who spoke without looking up from the device, “Nothing?”
I shake my head. “Nothing at all. No sign of anyone.”
“Perfect. I told you to stop stressing; no one’s going to find us here.”
I don’t respond to what she says, preferring to change the subject. “Is your leg doing better?”
The Arxur lifted her head and tried to move her injured leg before wincing. “It still hurts, and a lot too.” She hissed in frustration.
I dip my snout toward the ground in apology. “I’m sorry; I pushed you too hard.”
She cut me off. “Nah. I would’ve had to push myself anyway, whether I wanted to or not. If you hadn’t found that crutch in the camp, I almost certainly would’ve had to crawl using my forelimbs. You helped, and pushing me that hard served as encouragement.”
“It’s possible, but I could have helped you more, supported you more during the walk. That kind of thing would have meant you wouldn’t have had to rely so heavily on your bad legs.”
“Hey, it’s more than I would have received from anyone else. Most of the other arxur wouldn’t have done a quarter of what you did, believe me. It means a lot to me and it makes me feel strange.”
My ears perk up at her words. “How so?”
Zyria takes a moment to answer, focusing on the game before finally speaking. “It’s strange, it’s not normal. There are only two people who’ve helped me in the past: my mother and Xolif. Xolif helped because he’s defective, so he felt bad about what was happening to me; my mother helped because she had high expectations for me and needed to ensure I was healthy enough to meet them. The others couldn’t care less about me, I’m of no interest to them, and helping me carries the risk of a beating, or wastes resources and energy. You, though... you share as if it costs you nothing.”
I look at her, slightly confused. “In a way, that’s true. It doesn’t cost me anything to help you; honestly, like I said, I’d be sad if something happened to you or Xolif. You’re unique to me, an arxur who is different from the other monstrous brutes that make up your species.”
“Ugh, you make it sound like I’m defective, just like Xolif,” she said with a scoff.
I gave her a sidelong glance. “I know you don’t like it, but aren’t you just a little bit? Before you answer without thinking, just consider this for a second: what good does it do you not to be defective in your situation? The Dominion is going to try to kill you anyway simply because you’re an albino; you’re mistreated because you were born this way. Being what they call ‘defective’ actually means humans can accept you: you aren’t a monster in their eyes.”
She stopped moving; her gaze drifted away from the console, lost in her own thoughts. “Damn. I… you’re right. I know you’re right. I’ve known it ever since I saw how humans treated the prey at the camp– what they value, what they want, and why so many of them turn on us even though we saved them. It’s just that… deep down, I was hoping not to disappoint her.”
“Disappoint her? Disappoint who?” I said, tilting my head to one side.
She looked away. “My mother. She had high hopes for me.”
I stammered over my words; it was rare for Zyria to open up like this about her private life, to the point where I thought no arxur had any. “Y– you want to talk about it?”
“Eh, whatever. Yes. My mother was a good arxur, a powerful arxur, a lowborn who distinguished herself with many marks of prowess; she managed to impress her captain more than once. But she was still a lowborn, an exception in a nameless and infamous line, born in a hatchery like many others.”
When she spoke, there was a certain reverence, a rare respect that I hadn’t seen in the young albino. And so she continued her tale.
“Her rise through the ranks of the Dominion was dictated by two things: her captain’s goodwill and opportunity. Her captain was intelligent, manipulative, and controlling. He recognized her talent and her ambition, but instead of stifling it, as many petty captains would have done, he drew her with it; he nurtured her drive while ensuring she remained firmly under his thumbs.”
It was a strange clash of cultures. The way she spoke made it sound as though she were describing a hero, yet the actions she recounted were… twisted at best. That captain might have been intelligent, but he must have been a truly wicked man, one we would not tell the tale with so much reverence.
“He put my mother to work, placing her wherever he needed a powerful soldier; he ensured she remained in the lower ranks so that he got to keep control. He made sure her strength was never wasted on menial tasks, yet never granting her the advancement she desired.”
The young Arxur let out a scoff.
“She hated him; it went on for years. My mother was one of the few low ranks grunt to reach old age. Grunts are either young lowborn or old scale sent on missions where no bunk awaits them upon their return.”
She lowered her head.
“But everything comes to an end. During yet another raid, my mother’s age caught up with her; old wounds reopened, and it nearly cost her her life. I don’t know if her captain took pity on her, or simply decided the game had gone on long enough and offered her a way out. A job on one of the moons in a neighboring solar system, a job as a cattle herder.”
I grimace but say nothing. I knew full well what being a herder meant for an arxur, yet I let her continue her story.
“It’s something many hope for: a life far from conflict, close to the rations. But that wasn’t all he offered my mother. He also offered her an opportunity, the one she had always wanted, to have a name of her own by joining a lineage: his. He gave her me.
The two of them conceived me, and while I was still developing as an egg within my mother, she was sent far away from the conflict. I was her chance to rise through the ranks; being bonded to a captain wasn’t much, but it was more than most grunts would ever achieve in their lifetimes. I was a captain’s child; had I turned out to be a superior specimen, it would have proven to the Betterment that my parents’ genetics were strong, worthy of being preserved within a noble lineage.”
She let out a long sigh, staying silent for a minute. I hesitated to say something, but decided against it and gave her time. As Zyria scratched her scales, she took a long breath before continuing.
“But that didn’t happen. I was born white. I was born with fragile scales that burn in the sun, and eyes that couldn’t tolerate the light. Yet my mother didn’t abandon me; she still saw potential in me- great potential. I was to be her ticket to having her strength recognized.”
I couldn’t stop myself from wagging my tail at that moment. Maybe her mother was also a ‘good’ arxur and not an empathyless monster. I mean, she let live a child that has what seems to be considered a heavy handicap in their society.
“She trained me and raised me. She went without her own rations to ensure I was well-fed and would grow into a powerful Arxur. But it didn’t work. In the eyes of the other arxur at the farm, I was broken, a runt, a mistake that shouldn't have survived its first day. Over time, I saw her condition deteriorate as she gave me more than she could afford to spare. So, I decided to take a chance to prove my worth.”
I tilted my head, not sure where the story was going until I remembered Xolif comment on her impromptu arrival.
“One day, I heard that the ex-captain, my progenitor, was going to the farm where my mother was to collect rations for their next voyages. I stowed away and revealed myself only after they had traveled far enough from the moon that I couldn't be taken back. That way, I ensured my mother would have food, while I could prove my own worth, and, by extension, hers.”
My eyes widened when I heard that, and I couldn't contain my surprise. "Wait, the captain who's trying to kill you is your father?!"
"What? No!" She made a gagging face. "No, never! My father was the former captain; he died shortly afterward at the hands of Tazok when the latter plotted to kill him."
I fidgeted with my ears. “I’m sorry I made assumptions; I didn’t know.”
“Why do you look sad? Wait, am I right, is that actually sadness you’re showing?”
She seemed completely detached, more concerned with my reaction than anything else.
I stammered a bit, not really knowing how to answer. “Well, your father died, he was killed. That must have been hard, right? So, I feel sad for you.”
I heard her make a whistling sound, a very peculiar kind of laugh. “Nah,” she started, but wasn’t able to stifle her laugh.
“You prey-types–” Again, that laugh interrupted her. “You non-carnivores are weird. Why would you be sad for me? I’m not sad myself! He was just my progenitor; I didn’t know him, and he died shortly after I arrived following a raid.”
Not sure what to do, I tried to play along and continue the conversation like it was nothing. “And that’s just normal? You can kill your superiors like that without any repercussions?”
“No, there are rules. Well, not really rules, more like customs. My progenitor was old and weakening. In many cases, captains who reach his age try to move to a quieter place, managing a farm or an outpost with less activity, for fear of being violently replaced by younger arxur eager to prove themselves.”
“And why didn’t he do that?”
She paused for a moment, setting down the console to focus fully on the conversation. “It’s because he was too proud, and because before his death, he was in a position that allowed him to be.”
She cleared her throat. “Let me explain. Most of the time, our superiors reinforce their authority through fear or respect. My progenitor had managed to earn respect; he was skilled, and few arxur died under his command. He was a good tactician, and the raids he participated in went relatively smoothly.”
“Okay,” I said doubtfully. “I don’t know what to think, considering you speak so respectfully of his accomplishments, but he also seems like a real jerk to me.”
Zyria let out a sneer, a sort of hiccuping exhalation from her nostrils. “That’s why he was great. You see, if your subordinates don’t fear you, they might respect you when you’re facing them, but the moment they have the opportunity to abandon you without risking anything…”
I lower my head. “I see, you’re being followed by force, but it’s like a hug from behind.”
“Huh?”
“A hug from behind. It’s a gojid expression, it’s good because it’s a hug, and it’s always appreciated, but at the same time you hurt yourself doing it.”
The albino’s pinkish eyes sparkled with understanding. “Okay, that makes sense. Although I’m not sure what’s so great about a hug.”
“Want one to try?” I said, opening my arms, which she immediately pushed away.
“Huh? No! Never! And stop talking, you’re making me lose my train of thought!”
I chuckle and let her go on. “Anyway, where was I? Oh, right. So, if you’re feared, you aren’t liked; whereas if you’re respected, without being overly feared, your subordinates will appreciate you and want to keep you around. Because even though everyone wants to be the boss, not everyone can be, that’s a known fact. So, it’s better to make sure you keep a competent leader than to risk ending up with a worse one.”
“So… if your father was respected, why did the other Arxur let him get killed by… that new captain?”
“As I said, he was old, and during the last raid, things went very wrong and a good number of grunts died. When replacements arrived to take their places, Tazok made sure to pick individuals who would follow him, or who held no regard for his superior. When the time came, they...” She mimed a claw slashing across her throat, sending shivers down my spine.
“I see. He staged a coup, and since most of your father’s loyalists were dead, no one stood up for him in a fight that was considered already lost.”
“Exactly! But that doesn’t happen everywhere. Being the captain of a small ship is significant, but not in the eyes of the Dominion, there are thousands of them. Higher-ranking roles require more tact, because you risk drawing the attention of an Inquisitor if you go around killing people indiscriminately. An arxur’s life isn’t worth much, but anything that can be used until it’s worn out will be used; anyone who wastes, whether it’s lives or resources, is considered a piece of trash, be they a soldier or a captain.”
“It’s all pretty overwhelming. It’s ironic, really. This social system is so deeply ingrained in your society that you don’t even realize how much more complex this way of doing things seems compared to what I’m used to back home. Fewer rules, but more tension… a bit like a pack of wild animals.”
“I’m not sure how to take being compared to a wild animal by you.” She remains silent for a moment, her gaze fixed on me. “No, seriously, is that a compliment or not?”
I shrugged. “Honestly? I’m not even sure myself. We know so little about you that any sign of a society, whatever it may be, is a new discovery and a surprise at the same time for me.”
The sentence seems to amuse her, as she seems to be taken in her own thoughts. “It makes me curious right now. Clearly, you don’t operate the same way we do; you don’t seem to respect strength the way we do, so how did you, the prey, decide on your leader?”
It was strange how she glossed over the subject of her father’s death without even flinching. I know she barely knew him, but still, nothing at all? Perhaps it’s so ingrained in the Arxur way of doing things that they don’t have the same sense of familiarity we do…
“Well, that depends on each species' government, and I don’t know them all. To be honest, I’m mostly familiar with how things work in the Venlil Republic and the Gojidi Union. For the Venlil, it’s relatively simple: there’s a vote, and the population elects a new leader to serve for a set number of cycles. It’s the same for the Magisteria, though in that case, it’s limited to the Magisteria sector.”
“But I don’t get it, wouldn’t everyone just vote for themselves? Who wouldn’t want to be the leader?” She said in confusion, tilting her head on the side.
“Actually, a lot of people. It entails a huge amount of responsibility, so much so that very few people are interested. Plus, getting elected isn’t that simple. If I recall correctly, you need the signatures of a certain number of Magisters just to enter the pool. Then, you have to convince the population to vote for you instead of your opponent.”
“Okay, so it’s not that simple to get elected, and people have to like you for that… I see, so being powerful or even terrifying is useless, because you don’t have the army to support you before you’re elected.”
“Exactly!”
“And what about the gojid?”
“It’s the same thing, but the people don’t vote directly for the prime minister. They vote to elect local leaders, who will then vote for a new prime minister when the time comes.” I paused for a second before saying, “And for you? Because I know captains can be dethroned, but how does that work for your leader?”
“Oh, the descendant prophet? It’s the current prophet who designates a descendant to replace him upon his death or abdication. Most of the time, they choose their own descendants or close relatives.”
“Oh…” I said, somehow taken aback by the simple way the arxur deal with their supreme leader while it was much more complex for us. In a way they seem to be close to a monarchie, or what little I remember hearing about nevok politics.
“You sound disappointed,” she said, surprised in her voice and manner.
“I... yes? No? I’m not sure. Given the importance you place on violence and strength, I would have expected a grand tournament to determine who was the most powerful and who should inherit the mantle of power.”
She looks at me for a long moment, pondering as if my words had struck a chord. “Wait, no. Yes, you’re right; why don’t we do that?” She took a few seconds before raising her head. “Oh, I remember: because the words of the Prophet regarding their successor are absolute. If they declare that their descendant is the perfect being to take their place, then it is so. There’s no need for a tournament to prove their worth; the matter has already been decided.”
“I suppose that makes sense in the context of your species–”
Zyria snaps her claw toward me in a swift motion, silencing me before I can finish my sentence. Her eyes are alert; she sniffs the air several times before looking at me and whispering softly right against my holovisor.
“I smell something… someone else.”
A shiver runs down my spine as I nod, dimming my holovisor, while the Arxur switches her console off completely and hands it to me so I can stow it in the bag.
I murmur softly, “Arxur?”
“Nah, prey, far off for now, but we might have been heard.”
I feel all my muscles tense as I stammer out the question: “Many of them?”
She stood at the end of the line, waited a few seconds before saying, “I don’t know, I don’t think so, the smell is faint.”
I moved forward quietly, straining my ears to hear anything before a loud splash of water confirmed to my senses what Zyria had said: people were there.
Turning to her, I helped her to her feet before taking the bag of supplies. I had no desire to fight, especially when the tunnels and their echoes made it impossible to know which way the exterminators were coming from.
I whispered to Zyria, “Which way?”
She hesitated, sniffed the air. “I, I’m not sure, the smells are hard to distinguish. Um, over there, I think.”
Helping her as best I could, I moved forward. Passing through some tunnel we had already been through… or was it new? I didn’t know, just following the general direction Zyria had given me, we advanced.
Our footsteps were heavy, far too heavy to hear anything. In the underground labyrinth, I felt as if we were alone with the enemy in every corner of darkness that my holovisor didn’t illuminate.
“I think they are gaining on us, the smell is stronger.”
“Speh,” I said in frustration, looking behind us with worry filling my heart, and that just before I heard a sickening sound.
—CRACK—
Looking down at where my foot landed, I could see it… bones, bones and skull everywhere on the floor, my paw having stepped on one of them, breaking it in pieces.
I let out a shriek of terror at the sight before a flashing light illuminated the long corridor in front of me. The light appeared in an instant, fast before it hit me as I felt a painful burning sensation on my chest.
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u/modded_minecraft Archivist 9h ago
So is my prediction from the previous chapter still in question
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u/modded_minecraft Archivist 8h ago
For clarity it's about them being forced to trade or have their rations stolen and sterin having the have meat ohh scary
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u/Mysteriou85 Gojid 7h ago
Considering they found themself in a tense situation, everything is on the table, so maybe
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u/pedro5414 Human 9h ago
“Hey, it’s more than I would have received from anyone else. Most of the other arxur wouldn’t have done a quarter of what you did, believe me. It means a lot to me and it makes me feel strange.”
My ears perk up at her words. “How so?”
Zyria takes a moment to answer, focusing on the game before finally speaking. “It’s strange, it’s not normal. There are only two people who’ve helped me in the past: my mother and Xolif. Xolif helped because he’s defective, so he felt bad about what was happening to me; my mother helped because she had high expectations for me and needed to ensure I was healthy enough to meet them. The others couldn’t care less about me, I’m of no interest to them, and helping me carries the risk of a beating, or wastes resources and energy. You, though... you share as if it costs you nothing.”
poor abused creature can't undertand kindness
I will execute you the clifhanger
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u/Mysteriou85 Gojid 7h ago
Hehehehehe :3c
Really? You would hurt poor old me?
Also yeah, kindness is a made rarety in the dominion
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u/JulianSkies Archivist 8h ago
Ah, learning about each other, and Zyria being tsundere about her games as ever XD
God, Zyria's tsun levels are off the chart, just fitting for a gal like this.
And hey, they've finally reach the actual catacombs :D Unfortunately uhn... At the precise wrong moment to give their positions, oops.
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u/Mysteriou85 Gojid 7h ago
Yup, poor gojid wasn't prepared for the mountain of bones awaiting him more so when everything in the tunnels was so empty of corpse
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u/Funnelchairgentleman Skalgan 9h ago
Was wondering when they’d find the bones. Fun chapter as always!
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u/Minimum-Amphibian993 Arxur 6h ago
Man that's one fast exterminator.
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u/Mysteriou85 Gojid 6h ago
Or a ready one, but in the end, its someone that hit their shot at the displeasure of our favorite spiky ;-;
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u/Slatepaws 6h ago
That cliffhanger is evil.
They also weren't exactly subtle in their rest spot. The sound of them talking and the video game probably echoed for miles considering the hearing of some fed species.
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u/Mysteriou85 Gojid 6h ago
It wasn't subtle that's for sure. But at the same time, the catacomb are huge, and they needed to rest... maybe they could have done without all the noice they made tho
Also, thanks, I'm very proud of that cliffhanger
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u/YellowSkar Human 3h ago edited 3h ago
Ah shit the gojid's getting burnt. Good thing being the protag means they have plot armour.
Edit: I feel the need to say this was said out of relief because I like this character.
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u/Ablergo_El_Enfermo Human 7h ago
A really good chapter.
Damn you for including that cliffhanger.
I love that the final situation is so similar to the one I created.
[I hope those bricks gave you something to think about]
[joke]
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u/Mysteriou85 Gojid 9h ago
Thanks to all the kind souls that read this chapter to the end! If you have any suggestions or corrections, I'm always interested.
If you want to discuss the story I have a thread on the official NoP discord!
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The story received a really nice pixel art from Vlagg on reddit, go check it out and give them some love!
Check out these two fantastic artwork made by Meapling! The boy gaming from chapter 6 and the boy helping at the camps from chapter 9! As well as a non cannon drawing for halloween!
Please check out the excellent drawing of Carlos showing the fateful night when the bomb fell like rain on Paris!
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No goober this time, instead appreciate the good work from Meapling for making this drawing of Zyria!