The Goat Demanded It (Solo)

[Maya Frostfawn]

Timestamp: Fall 41, 523 AV A faint breeze brushed over the earth, scooping the dry soil into the air in a dusty cloud that ensnared Maya's limbs with each of her steady steps toward the dawn of a new day. The day was young, the sun just rising, and the city was quieter than she had grown accustomed to during her brief stay there. The air was cool, but not cold. The soil beneath her feet, dry and hard-packed. She barely left a mark of her step in her wake. There were no cries of the dying. No call of birds. Nothing but the sound of her footsteps against the earth, and she found it strange despite the hour. She walked in silence for quite some time. Saying nothing, thinking nothing, as she ventured into a dustier part of town that she hadn't tread often during her stay within the city. Not because she had not wanted to or anything of the sort, as much as she had not the time, despite the nature of her being, given the fact that she had to work to ensure that she could buy the clothes and other supplies she would need to survive. Although she no longer required food and drink, she still needed supplies for her work, among other things, like fresh clothes, materials for her hobbies that helped pass the endless amount of time that stretched before her feet, pretty things to make her world more beautiful. The graves of fallen mines hung in the distance. An abandoned shack by an entrance to a hole within the earth. A waterfall of large stones and dirt in front of what would have been a cave mouth. A broken wheelbarrow, a shattered wooden wheel that jut out of the earth at an awkward angle, while another piece rested against it in relative peace. A few cleanly-picked bones of the fallen whose bodies she could no longer use. Men, both young and old from what she could see as she walked by. What a waste, she thought, as she kept on walking toward a destination she could not name, could not so much as picture within her mind's eye. For she knew not where she was going, only what she wished to accomplish during the course of her travels. As she continued moving at a relatively steady pace, her boots scraped over the earth, dragging the dry dirt beneath the soles of her shoes, as she studied the ground with eyes that never blinked and had no need of sleep, never truly grew tired or in need of rest. Heavy or weary, rarely so much as itchy. There was nothing but dirt and rocks beneath her feet, by them, all around them. And of course, a boat load of soil. Not a plant, not a sign of life. Not even a bloody worm wiggling over the surface of the earth, struggling through its very existence. Maya kicked a stone across the earth, watched it skip over the soil, raising tiny dust clouds as she walked. Her mind suddenly skipping toward her memories. She couldn't remember the last time she had seen them. Either of her parents. It would have been a long time ago, back when she was still living in Avanthal, for as far as she knew, neither of them had left the place. She couldn't remember their touch against her skin, not truly. Only that their bodies were larger than hers, and warmer, even back then, before she joined the ranks of undead. She knew their hair must have been black, but she couldn't quite remember how dark a black. Was it faded with age. Dark as a raven's feathers? And their eyes. What color were their eyes? What a stupid question. They were both Vantha, so they always changed with her moods. They were never anything for more than a few hours, sometimes, the color didn't last more than a few seconds. She thought she remembered a beautiful emerald on her mother's eyes. Within them. But maybe that was merely because she wanted to remember her as a Vanthan queen. Something regal, rare and beautiful as a jewel. She thought she could remember her father referring to her mother as his "gem" once. But maybe that was a false memory too. It became difficult to tell the older you got. And she was getting older, with bodies that merely decayed and broke down, before forcing her to move into another. It was for that reason that she was out now, away from the heart of Sunberth's civilization, away from prying eyes. She was looking for another, now that her body was getting old and starting to break down. Now that she had made the mistake of allowing it to gain an injury the previous day. Now that she had made the mistake of wounding her hand, which was something she would need for her everyday life. Especially in the course of her work, which required that she work carefully and deftly alongside the good doctor to mend the broken and injured bodies of the patients that came to see them at the Clinic. And there were quite a great deal of those of late; perhaps it was something in the air. Or maybe it was just Sunberth. It was probably just Sunberth, all things considered. But in any case, the nuit definitely needed a new body, for the rate at which it broke down would quicken with the injury. That was simply the nature of nuit bodies, and another of the many signs that pointed to their overall physical frailty. At least she had staunched the flow of ichor the day before, cleaned it and redressed it when she returned home with some supplies she had found both in her pack and strewn about her run-down flat. She thought she could feel it stinging now, the wound in her hand, but maybe that was only a phantom. A conjuring of her mind. The memory of pain and injury and nothing more. Her footsteps scraped against the earth, drawing the dirt along with each of her small steps toward a place she could not name. Maybe having to continue walking when everyone else had returned to the earth was the real pain, the true suffering. Word Count: 1,050 Words

[Maya Frostfawn]

She had always felt that there were benefits to being alive, just as there were benefits to walking the realm between the world of the living and the dead. When she was alive, no one feared her simply for who she was. She didn't have to worry about acquiring new bodies. Or what would happen if she became even mildly injured. She had friends and family and could be open about who and what she was. She didn't have a smell that frightened animals away and made them uneasy, the mere sight of her true nature didn't make others uneasy. She could eat and drink and enjoy the taste of both of those things... or not. She could exercise and fight and do dangerous things she couldn't think twice about now. And she could sleep, and dream, and love. And she was in touch with emotions that she was currently beginning to forget. As a nuit, however, she didn't have to spend time eating, or drinking, or sleeping. She didn't have to worry about not having enough. About that kind of poverty. She didn't have to worry about most illnesses or poison. But everyone feared her simply because of what she was, despite the frailty of her body. Because she might snatch their bodies some day... when they were already dead, and freshly so. Old bodies weren't any good, after all. She had to disguise herself just to go out. To see the sun, to feel the air on her skin. Darkness and shadows were the things she should bathe in, simply because she always had to hide what she was. At least, when she was outside of Sahova, anyway. Where most everyone was just like her, holed up in their own corner of the world, doing who knew what. Maya could not say that she truly enjoyed being one of the undead. But from what she could recall, she had not truly enjoyed being alive either. At least, not all of the time. It was difficult, dangerous, hard. There were so many emotions toying with your heart. So many times that you were disappointed in yourself for disappointing someone you loved. So many times you were simply disappointed with others for letting you down for one reason or another. So many times that someone broke your heart because they did not feel the same way that you felt about them. So many times when you were frustrated about one little thing or another, someone forgetting something they should have known about you, like one of your parents forgetting your favorite food or your favorite toy. Misplacing your favorite toy. Someone taking something that was yours, or lying to your face. There was the pain of loss, but that was something of both worlds, and in some ways, worse as an undead being, for you watched almost everything die around you while you continued on, you just weren't as connected to the emotions that would arise from the situation as you would be were you still alive. In a way, it was as though nothing shocked you, nothing quite hit you as a nuit. Like you built up a strange mental fortitude that couldn't exist in life. Like your physical frailty paid for its strength, and in life, the strength of your body lent you a mental frailty that did not exist when you were caught between worlds. Amongst the ranks of the undead. Maya had been wondering about that for quite some time, what about the nuit made them so different than they had been when they were still alive. She hoped to one day find an answer, but imagined it was a long way off. But as long as she found bodies to pass her consciousness into, she had all the time in the world. And she thought, deep inside, very very very very deep inside, she could feel a sense of excitement at the possibility. The possibility of knowing, of finding an answer, or a series of answers no one had found before. Maya's feet shuffled over the earth as a delicate smile spread across her lips. She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear as she continued walking, caught in her own thoughts. The vibrant and curious world they created. For a moment, her mind wandered and she wondered whether or not anyone had found the answers to the questions she had been posing for quite some time before. Or if she would be the first to find the answers. That would be exciting, if she could find them. But also strange, considering how many people had come before her. Surely, there must have been someone who had found at least one of the answers to her many questions before she was even born, before she even had the chance to pose them. But she had never heard of such a thing. Maybe the information had been buried. The answer, lost with time, or with the death of the one who had found them. It was impossible to tell, the world being as great and vast as it was. Filled with violence and fire, and people who did not exactly get along. She did not even know all of their names--the races who could not bring themselves to get along, any more than she knew all of the reasons for their fighting. For their conflict. She knew of course, being a member of their race, that most did not like and feared the nuit because of how they lived. How they extended their lives, taking the vacated vessels of others. With the exception of the pycon race. But other than that, she was essentially clueless, for in life, she'd really only encountered other humans. Some the garden variety, or even Svefra, but mainly, just other Vantha. She thought the most interesting things she had ever met were Kelvics, Konti, and Ethaefal, but she hadn't seen any of them, as far as she knew, for many, many, many years, which was not surprising in the least, considering their numbers in comparison to those of humans, who seemed to rule the earth upon which they all tread. Word Count: 1,031

[Maya Frostfawn]

As she kept on walking, the nuit's mind continued to wander. As did her eyes, her gaze. And that's when she noticed shadows rising from the earth, no, not shadows. Things. They weren't moving, but they were entities resting against the earth. Something in a shape she had not seen previously during the course of her travels. Maya narrowed her eyes, and drawn to the sight of these outlines against the earth, marginally quickened her pace toward whatever they were. After roughly a quarter of a bell, maybe a few minutes less, she happened upon the shapes. They were a small group of bodies. A woman and two children, whom Maya assumed was their mother. They looked to be freshly dead. Maya bent beside the bodies, studying them. She could probably transfer her consciousness into one of them. The children were a girl and a boy. The girl looked to be about five years old. She was covered in a mixture of dirt and grime. She had flaxen hair in a loose braid that had come undone in the wind's deft hands, and unseeing, green eyes. Her brother looked to be a tad older than she was. He might have been seven or eight. His eyes, unlike those of his sister, were a pale blue, clouded over with death. His skin was pale and scratched. A mixture of blood and grime marred his skin. Both their clothes also looked old and tattered. Their mother, on the other hand, had short blonde hair. It was relatively straight, but there was a gentle wave to it in the center. It was cut nearly to the shoulder. Her eyes were a sort of grey-green color, from what Maya could discern in the current light. Her skin was quite pale, her nose a bit long and pointed, and her lips a pale pink. Whether they were quite as pale in life was difficult to tell, but their edges were a bit blue now. There were no marks on her skin, aside from what was cast by a mixture of dirt and grime, perhaps from slipping into death? Maya could not tell. But all of their bodies were slender, their skin sunken toward their bone. Perhaps they had died of starvation. Judging from the state of their clothes, how ripped and old and worn they looked, it would not be out of the question. Maya gently eased the children's bodies away from their mother, closed their unseeing eyes before moving her hands back to the mother, continuing to study her. She looks like someone I might be able to use, she thought, as she set her bag down beside her, pulled out her embalming kit, and her waterkin. She set both on top of her bag, opened her waterskin, and poured some water over the woman's face. Watched the beads trail over the side of her skin, before she moved in and wiped both it and the grime carefully away from the woman's flesh with the back of her sleeve. She might once have been beautiful, had her body not wasted away, Maya thought, as she began to carefully undress the woman before her. Revealing a slender frame, skin that had not been exposed to the elements and wasn't so grimy. It looked like she had died of starvation, she was so skinny. So this body may not last particularly long, even though it otherwise appeared to be in good shape. There were no major injures either. Just a bruise on her knee, as though she had bumped into something. Yes, this should work, if only for a time, Maya thought as she continued to carefully clean the body. Doing this inside would have been ideal, but she lacked the strength to carry such a body back to a safe space. And people would question why she was doing it and probably come and kill her. Sunberth wasn't exactly the nicest town, after all. So, she would have to settle for this dusty, uninhabited place. Or this place she thought was uninhabited, anyway. She opened her kit and prepared herself for the long bit of work that was to come next, passing her consciousness from one body into another, as she had done so many times before. Word Count: 716 Words

[Maya Frostfawn]

OOC: Not for the squeamish, dissection takes place. The first thing Maya pulled from her kit was a tiny metal, scalpel. It gleamed ominously in the pale morning light. After adjusting her grip so it was comfortable, she made an incision down the center of the woman's body from between her breasts to her navel. The line was jagged, diagonal. Not straight at all. Shallower in some areas than others, to the point where she had to go over the line a few times to make it better. Then, she reached into her kit and pulled out a vial of salt. She sprinkled some over the wound as though she were seasoning chicken. And then proceeded to look inside the body. She drew out the intestines, which were a deep red. They slapped onto the ground wetly, in a coil that reminded her of a snake. First the large, and then the small, until there was nothing left. When she was done with that, she sprinkled more salt into the body, again as though she were seasoning the thing for dinner, later. When that was done, she looked for the stomach. She knew it was shaped like a ladle, more or less. When she located it, she realized how fresh the body was, for it hadn't changed much yet in death. At least on the inside. It was still a faintly pink color on one side, and a reddish-brown color in others. After carefully removing it, getting a mixture of icky fluids all over her hands, Maya quickly wiped her hands on the woman's discarded clothes, before sprinkling more salt onto the body. Not wanting to be outside where she could be caught much longer, she decided to keep from removing the woman's remaining organs and simply seal her back up after the last of her preparations. She quickly put her scalpel away after cleaning it on the woman's clothes as well, before sprinkling some more salt in the incision and sealing the vial up and putting it away. Then, she rifled through her kit until she found needle and thread. After taking a moment, she managed to get the thread through the eye and knotted it at the bottom. From there, she bent over the body, and beginning at the lower end of the incision, began to sew the woman back up. While pinching her skin together with her fingers, on her free hand, she put the needle into flesh, drew it through and across to the other side of the incision, pulling through until the knot snagged on skin. Stopped the progression of the thread. Then she wove over and under, into the other side of the flesh, over and over again until she reached the top of the cut she had made. Her stitches were uneven, some straight, others diagonal, some running over and under the other stitches she had made, but it should do, at least for now. When she was done stitching the woman up, she carefully tied off the thread, and put her supplies away. She closed up her kit and set it in her bag. At this point, had she still been alive, she might have taken a deep breath, but she was no longer alive. So, she simply prepared herself, and transferred her consciousness into the new body after a time. Dressed in her old clothes, gathered her things, and made her way back into the city with a brand new body and face. Her hood pulled high over her head. Word Count: 581 Words