Dead. My Ushka, my sweet lover, my only reason for living, was dead. His silent, unmoving form draped over my longing arms. Never again would I kiss those lips. Never again would those strong green hands caress my flesh. Ushka was no more.
"Worthless idiot." said one of the others. "Went and got himself slaughtered on purpose, one might think."
"How dare you say such thing?" I demanded. "Ushka was loyal to master. He'd never take own life."
Another one piped up. "He let himself get killed by a stupid darkling. All he had to do was use the fire spell, but he didn't, and now the thing got away. Stupid wretch!" He kicked my lover's corpse.
"If fault was his, then he has paid for it with his life. Is that not great enough punishment for you?"
He only sneered. "At least he left us something good when he died." he chortled. "He just couldn't leave his mate behind."
I know that my eyes betrayed fear. I was petrified for only a second as they pulled me from my lover and began to sate their desires for my flesh, caring not for the pain they inflicted on me nor the harm they caused.
When they had finished, they left me naked, broken and weeping in a land where a keeper patrol would be certain to find me.
Rage overtook me. I hated my people. I hated myself for being a lutin. I got up and began walking southward, toward Metamor Keep, to be put out of my misery by the enemy.
By and by, I heard someone approaching. Whoever it was seemed to be having a one-sided conversation. He was talking quite loudly to himself about the weather and his most recent meal.
"It's nice that we were able to get these snow-plums." he said. "Usually, it's wut wut just to dangerous to go out north and pick them."
He came over a rise and I saw him. He was a keeper. Not only A keeper... he was one of the few which Nasoj desperately wanted dead. An otter-morph from the southlands, he was the single greatest threat to the project for which my mate and I had been preparing. Poetic justice, then.
He saw me and stiffened. His walking stick came up into both hands, reflexively. A tiny blue dragon lifted from his shoulder. He fixed his gaze on me and shook his head slightly.
"Do it." I said.
"Do what?" asked the otter.
"Get on with it. Kill me."
"Wut wut why?"
This took me aback. "Don't you normally kill lutins?"
"Well, yes... but I've CHP never had one volunteer before. Why do you want me to kill you?"
"I despise what I am."
The otter nodded thoughtfully. The dragon still shook his head, more emphatically, now.
"Go on!" I demanded.
"What is your name?" asked the otter.
"Vitra." I replied, spitting at the mention of my birth name.
"Vitra, I can't kill you."
"YOU MUST! I am living abomination! I not deserve to live!"
Suddenly, the dragon fell to the ground, squealing in pain and clutching his gut.
The otter ran to him. "Gornul! What's the matter?"
I saw an image superimposed over reality. In it, the dragon stood over me with a knife raised. His hand slowly came down, dropped the knife, and let me go. When the image faded, the dragon released an ear-piercing yowl.
"Oh, GREEEE! What's happening, Gornul? What is it?" The otter asked in panic.
I bent down over him. "You were eating Snow-plums. Did you swallow the pit?"
Everything flashed green.
"He says 'Yes'."
"It a tree troll." I told him. "They tiny little buggers from north, and they sometimes get into pits of snow plums. If you swallow them, they live inside stomach. They nasty, and if you do not do exactly what they say, they cause you excruciating pain. I guessing this one wanted your friend to kill me."
"We've got to get it out!"
"There is incantation. Repeat after me..."
"I can't! I can't do magic!"
I smacked myself mentally. Ushka had told me about this one. Laying my hands upon the reptile's belly, I began to chant.
"En Nomia Mungu Vargen Cuim."
The dragon screamed and clawed at my hands, but I would not be deterred. "En Nomia Mungu Vargen Cuim! En... Nomia... Mungu... Vargen... Cuim... EN! NOMIA! MUNGU! VARGEN! CUIM!"
The creature's body began to spasm as a hideous bile-covered monster phased it's way through his skin. The abomination tumbled to the ground and the dragon lay still, breathing rapidly.
Before the troll could right itself, a huge flipper came down upon it, splattering its form across the dirt.
I sat back and wiped my brow.
"Gornul?" said the otter. "How long have you been carrying that thing around?"
There was an image of eight setting suns.
"EIGHT DAYS? Gornul, why didn't you say something?"
"The troll would not let him." I explained. "It used powers of torture to remain secret while it controlled host."
The otter clutched the dragon to his chest. "Oh, Gornul! I can't bear the thought of you in pain."
Something dawned on me at that moment. Our people had always portrayed the keepers as dark-hearted, ruthless killing machines. I'd believed that, and yet here was one of the most hated showing more compassion than I had ever seen in another lutin. I wanted more. I wanted to find out for myself if all the keepers were this capable of love.
"May I... May I come to keep with you? As your prisoner?"
The otter looked at me quizzically, and I knew I had asked too much. "My dear lady, you saved Gornul from torture. You will accompany me as my guest, not my prisoner."
"They won't like having lutin present."
"Too true. Listen: My friend Jesse lives not far from here. We'll get you some clothes at his house. You'll stay there with him for a few days. He'll complain, but he'll trust me."
"But..."
"We tell everyone you're his cousin, come for a visit, but in a freak happenstance, the curse of Metamor turned you into a lutin."
I shook my head. "The curse does not do lutins."
"It does now!"
I smiled weakly. What kind of being was this who would lie on behalf of an enemy? Who would risk his position and reputation, possibly even his life, to house one such as me?
I could hardly wait to learn more.