Interesting points. Back on earth she caused maximum chaos by turning a functional (ie a normal amount of corrupt) system into a completely disfunctional and utterly corrupt system. Here she would probably cause more chaos if she could fix the system and force the gods to play on an even playing field for a change. Fun!
The True Confessions of a Nine-Tailed Fox
- Thread starter arianedartagnan
- Start date
To Cassius, with love from Piri
Chapter 8: Catfish, Still
Chapter 8: Catfish, Still
My next life as a catfish, I swam until I passed a dark, curved object that my Piri-self recognized as a roof tile. Then I split off from my siblings, staked out that stretch of river as my territory, and measured myself every day. It took a few years, but when I reached one tile in length, I swam off in search of a fishing boat.
This time, Flicker informed me with some asperity, I did indeed grow big enough to provide sufficient monetary value to the fisherman who caught me, and nutritional value to the family that ate me. However – "Piri, you're defeating the point of the karma system. You're not supposed to gain positive karma unless you become a better person!"
I debated arguing that I was becoming a better person – but only for a second. Are you going to report me? I asked instead.
He hesitated for so long that I was about to start panicking when he answered, "No" in a defeated voice. He exhaled and his shoulders slumped. "No, I'm not."
I really appreciate that –
"It's not for your sake, Piri!" he burst out. "It's because there's no point! Yes, I could spend hours filling out paperwork to report that a soul is transgressing the rules, and then spend weeks filling out supplemental paperwork to document my observations, and responding to inquiries from my superiors as aforementioned paperwork makes its way up through the hierarchy…but I already know that in the end, Glitter will conclude that you haven't actually broken any rules and hence can't be punished – but by then she'll have wasted so many departmental resources on this investigation that she'll have to punish someone – and that someone will be me!" He broke off, breathing hard.
His skin flared and dimmed with his breathing rhythm, I noticed. Must be something star sprites did when they got upset. I gave him a moment to return to a steady glow.
Who's Glitter? Have I met her?
Dropping his head into his hands, he muttered something that sounded like "Self-centered as ever" before replying curtly, "Superintendent of Reincarnation. The one who oversees day-to-day operations here."
Oh.
"And you have met her. She was at the front desk in the audience chamber."
Her?! Her name was Glitter???
I remembered that doorwoman clerk – mostly because she'd been the one who revealed Flicker's name – and a less glittery personality I could not imagine. She'd been withered and white-haired, with thin lips and pinched cheeks and fierce eyes, the exact opposite of the Goddess of Life. But the clerks around Glitter had treated her like a queen. In fact, Flicker had addressed her as "honored one," while he saluted gods with a less-exalted-sounding "my lord" or "my lady." Honestly, I was surprised the gods weren't offended.
Most likely because they hadn't noticed yet.
Oh yeah, that reminds me. Your name is Flicker, hers is Glitter, and that clerk in the stairwell was Wink. How are star sprites named anyway?
"How are we named?" Flicker stared at me blankly, as if the question had never occurred to him. "We're not. We…just come into existence knowing our names. How do you know yours?"
Fair enough. Fox spirits all had elegant, poetic names, in keeping with our elegant, poetic natures. When I'd first awakened as a fox, even before I'd learned how to transform into a human, I'd done so with the full knowledge that I was Piri. Flos Piri, or Pear Blossom, to be precise, in reference to the image of a delicate, weeping maiden whose tears resembled the raindrops on the petals of a pure white pear blossom.
I would admit, it didn't exactly fit my personality. But it did conjure up all sorts of fantasies that I aspired to fulfill, which was the point.
Maybe star sprites were born cheerful, twinkling characters. Paperwork could, after all, crush the playfulness out of anyone.
Just look at Marcius.
Hey, how's Marcius anyway? What kind of animal did he reincarnate as? What's he up to on Earth?
I'd already seen the "Green" stamp on my document, so I knew that I'd reincarnate as an aquatic creature again. If Marcius happened to live near water, I could make my way to his river or lake and spy, er, check on him. Just to see how he was doing, of course. And maybe to mess with him. Messing with him would be entertaining. And free – since he wasn't human.
"Oh, no no no. I can't tell you that. That is absolutely forbidden."
But what if I run into him? I coaxed. I won't even know it's him.
"That's the reason we suppress your memories before reincarnation. So you can start fresh on Earth without all the baggage from your previous lives."
Oh. Since Flicker seemed determined to stick to this rule, I turned to a more immediate concern. Soooo, what am I going to be this time?
In answer, he slapped my file shut to show me the rune for "catfish" on the front.
Agaaaaain? I put a whine into my tone for Glitter's benefit, in case she monitored her underlings. She'd looked like the type who kept her beady eyes on everyone all the time so she could maintain constant control over her domain. Fliiiicker, why do you keep assigning me as a catfish?
He bought the pretense. "As I have told you over and over, I do not make decisions as to the details of reincarnation. I merely carry it out. You'd have to ask Glitter how she assigns souls – and I do not recommend doing that."
Okaaaaay, fiiiiine.
He studied me for a long moment, opened his mouth, and then shut it again, rather like a fish. I waited for him to ask if I were positive I didn't want to use the Tea of Forgetfulness this time, but all he said was, "Are you ready?"
Yep. Hit me.
And he did.
My third life as a catfish, I swam downstream as far as I could, mapping the riverbed and identifying the types of water spirits here. I saw catfish and loaches, gobies and mussels, softshell turtles and crabs, water snakes and shrimp, all of whom answered to the local dragon king.
Steering clear of them, I followed a school of silvery baby salmon who were migrating to the sea. They were so tiny and weak that they hid during the day and only came out at night, when they'd point their tails downstream and let the currents carry them along. At first, they eyeballed me warily and darted away if I got too close, but after a week, they grew used to my broad, dark form. The bolder ones even flashed forward to nibble my whiskers. They were pretty cute, I had to confess.
Even if I did occasionally get an urge to eat one.
My fish brain kept calling them food, while my Piri-self was curious about how a catfish's perception of flavor differed from a human's. Salmon had been served in the palace, after all. And I'd eaten it as a fox.
However, if I attacked even one baby salmon, the rest would never trust me again. So I amused myself by playing tag with them and refrained from eating any kind of fish in front of them, just in case. For the duration of our trip, I fed on insects, water snails, and plants, noting the change in species as the fresh river water gradually turned brackish. Eventually it grew too salty for me, and I waved a flipper at the baby salmon as they vanished into the sea.
See you next year, I called, even though they couldn't understand me.
Then I swam back upstream towards that roof tile.
"That was an encouraging life," Flicker praised the next time I saw him. For some reason, his lips were twitching towards an attempt at a smile. "You showed flashes of altruism, Piri."
I did?
I hadn't thought that leaping into a fishing net so I could gain karma so I could advance to a higher Tier counted as altruism, but hey, if that were how the Bureau of Reincarnation defined it, I wasn't going to argue.
I mean, of course I did! The cycle of reincarnation is helping me become a better person, just as it was designed to! I'm learning to view my past lives through fresh eyes – literally; one fresh set per life – and I am so, so ashamed of the person I used to be –
Flicker was groaning and massaging his temples again. "No need to lay it on so thick," he muttered. His eyes flicked towards a grate on the wall. His hands, I noted, hid his lips from anyone who might be spying through it.
At the image of Cassius hunched over on the other side with his ear pressed to the metal, I let out a happy chime.
Rearranging his face into sober lines, Flicker straightened. "I was referring to those salmon fry, Piri. You could have grown faster by eating them. Instead, you chose to shepherd them to the sea. I was…pleasantly surprised."
I, on the other hand, was appalled.
Of course I could have grown faster from devouring those baby salmon than from scrounging for bugs and plants on the river bottom. So why hadn't I done it? The reincarnation cycle wasn't erasing my personality, was it?
Did I get extra karma for it? I blurted out before remembering that a truly altruistic person wouldn't have asked that. Probably wouldn't even have dreamed of asking that.
Good. That meant I was still me.
"A token amount, for the extremely circuitously indirect benefit to humankind. Less than what you earned as an oyster for ecosystem engineering, I'm afraid. But don't focus on that," Flicker urged. "Focus on the sense of satisfaction you feel when you help others."
Mmmm, yes. I feel very satisfied when I help others. So how much did I help others by turning into their dinner this time?
The poor clerk sighed. "Why do I get the impression that telling you would be a mistake?"
Because it was one. But you're still going to tell me, riiiiiiight?
He sighed again. "I have no idea why…but yes."
I never made the baby salmon mistake again.
Instead, I spent my next dozen lives experimenting with my size at capture. Humans valued catfish primarily in terms of weight, i.e., the heavier, the better. Obviously, I had no way to weigh myself, but I could use length as a proxy. Since Glitter kept reincarnating me in the same river, probably to replenish its catfish population, I'd just swim until I found my roof tile ruler. As the lives passed, it broke apart and crumbled away, but by then I'd learned my growth rate.
After my seventh life, when I spent forty years growing to four feet, Flicker told me that the fisherwoman who caught me won special praise for hooking the largest catfish in local history. Accompanied by her fellow fisherfolk, she paraded up to the castle and presented me to the baron. That night, I was steamed and served whole in the great hall so everyone could admire my magnificence. The joy this banquet brought the baron and his vassals earned me a windfall of karma – but was it worth the decades I'd invested?
Since he was in a hurry, Flicker refused to tell me exact numbers. However, from the thickness of my curriculum vitae, I estimated that I'd gained more karma from that single life than what I could have earned from living two or three times in the same time span. Still, nobles didn't throw a party every time a peasant brought them a big fish, so after some thought, I opted for shorter lives. Humans seemed sufficiently happy with two-feet-long catfish, which also gave me more opportunities to experiment with where and how I was caught. Of course, every time Flicker showed me the "catfish" rune on my file, I wailed about how boring its life was, how intolerably ugly it was, and so on.
It worked. I continued to reincarnate as a catfish.
"You're accumulating karma very…efficiently," Flicker commented after my fourteenth life, his pause conveying deep irony.
I ignored it. I had the measure of him by now: a lonely, bitter, overworked clerk whose social circle consisted of the souls he processed and the colleagues he nodded at in passing in the stairwell. I probably counted as his best friend.
So, how close am I to Black Tier? I chimed, expecting him to confess after much hemming and hawing and hedging that even though he really shouldn't be telling me this, a couple more lives should suffice….
"Not even close." His answer came with no hesitation whatsoever.
What? I nearly tumbled out of the air in shock. Catching myself, I yelped, Wait! I didn't spend that long in White Tier, did I?
Admittedly, after a few centuries, the lives had begun to blur together, but I could swear that I'd already spent longer in Green Tier than I had in White. How could I possibly not be on the cusp of Black?
But Flicker was shaking his head. His chin lifted slightly and his gaze drifted past me to focus on nothing, telltale signs that he was about to start reciting some manual. "The Earth requires significantly larger populations of lower lifeforms than it does higher ones. Have you heard of apex predators?"
Let's pretend I have.
Miracle of miracles, he skipped the natural philosophy lecture and cut to the relevant bit. "Simply put, the amount of karma that you need to advance increases with each Tier."
Increases? That's not fair! Pulsing fiercely, I demanded, How many more lives before I reach Black?
"It's not that simple. There's a very complicated function with many parameters that the Accountants have developed in order to calculate karma per life."
There was one obvious follow-up question: And is that function constant over time, or do they change it whenever they feel like it?
The clerks, as I'd seen, harbored an awe for Accountants second only to their reverence for Glitter. Flicker fixed me with a hard stare. "The Accountants are selected for their personal integrity, Piri. Don't assume that they operate under the same principles – or lack thereof – as you."
Ouch.
I didn't really care, though. He'd revealed enough for me to realize that I had to stop living normal catfish lives.
I had to get creative.
Thanks to my awesome Patreon backers, BananaBobert, Charlotte, Hookshyu, Voligne, and Anonymous! And thanks to everyone for reading!
My next life as a catfish, I swam until I passed a dark, curved object that my Piri-self recognized as a roof tile. Then I split off from my siblings, staked out that stretch of river as my territory, and measured myself every day. It took a few years, but when I reached one tile in length, I swam off in search of a fishing boat.
This time, Flicker informed me with some asperity, I did indeed grow big enough to provide sufficient monetary value to the fisherman who caught me, and nutritional value to the family that ate me. However – "Piri, you're defeating the point of the karma system. You're not supposed to gain positive karma unless you become a better person!"
I debated arguing that I was becoming a better person – but only for a second. Are you going to report me? I asked instead.
He hesitated for so long that I was about to start panicking when he answered, "No" in a defeated voice. He exhaled and his shoulders slumped. "No, I'm not."
I really appreciate that –
"It's not for your sake, Piri!" he burst out. "It's because there's no point! Yes, I could spend hours filling out paperwork to report that a soul is transgressing the rules, and then spend weeks filling out supplemental paperwork to document my observations, and responding to inquiries from my superiors as aforementioned paperwork makes its way up through the hierarchy…but I already know that in the end, Glitter will conclude that you haven't actually broken any rules and hence can't be punished – but by then she'll have wasted so many departmental resources on this investigation that she'll have to punish someone – and that someone will be me!" He broke off, breathing hard.
His skin flared and dimmed with his breathing rhythm, I noticed. Must be something star sprites did when they got upset. I gave him a moment to return to a steady glow.
Who's Glitter? Have I met her?
Dropping his head into his hands, he muttered something that sounded like "Self-centered as ever" before replying curtly, "Superintendent of Reincarnation. The one who oversees day-to-day operations here."
Oh.
"And you have met her. She was at the front desk in the audience chamber."
Her?! Her name was Glitter???
I remembered that doorwoman clerk – mostly because she'd been the one who revealed Flicker's name – and a less glittery personality I could not imagine. She'd been withered and white-haired, with thin lips and pinched cheeks and fierce eyes, the exact opposite of the Goddess of Life. But the clerks around Glitter had treated her like a queen. In fact, Flicker had addressed her as "honored one," while he saluted gods with a less-exalted-sounding "my lord" or "my lady." Honestly, I was surprised the gods weren't offended.
Most likely because they hadn't noticed yet.
Oh yeah, that reminds me. Your name is Flicker, hers is Glitter, and that clerk in the stairwell was Wink. How are star sprites named anyway?
"How are we named?" Flicker stared at me blankly, as if the question had never occurred to him. "We're not. We…just come into existence knowing our names. How do you know yours?"
Fair enough. Fox spirits all had elegant, poetic names, in keeping with our elegant, poetic natures. When I'd first awakened as a fox, even before I'd learned how to transform into a human, I'd done so with the full knowledge that I was Piri. Flos Piri, or Pear Blossom, to be precise, in reference to the image of a delicate, weeping maiden whose tears resembled the raindrops on the petals of a pure white pear blossom.
I would admit, it didn't exactly fit my personality. But it did conjure up all sorts of fantasies that I aspired to fulfill, which was the point.
Maybe star sprites were born cheerful, twinkling characters. Paperwork could, after all, crush the playfulness out of anyone.
Just look at Marcius.
Hey, how's Marcius anyway? What kind of animal did he reincarnate as? What's he up to on Earth?
I'd already seen the "Green" stamp on my document, so I knew that I'd reincarnate as an aquatic creature again. If Marcius happened to live near water, I could make my way to his river or lake and spy, er, check on him. Just to see how he was doing, of course. And maybe to mess with him. Messing with him would be entertaining. And free – since he wasn't human.
"Oh, no no no. I can't tell you that. That is absolutely forbidden."
But what if I run into him? I coaxed. I won't even know it's him.
"That's the reason we suppress your memories before reincarnation. So you can start fresh on Earth without all the baggage from your previous lives."
Oh. Since Flicker seemed determined to stick to this rule, I turned to a more immediate concern. Soooo, what am I going to be this time?
In answer, he slapped my file shut to show me the rune for "catfish" on the front.
Agaaaaain? I put a whine into my tone for Glitter's benefit, in case she monitored her underlings. She'd looked like the type who kept her beady eyes on everyone all the time so she could maintain constant control over her domain. Fliiiicker, why do you keep assigning me as a catfish?
He bought the pretense. "As I have told you over and over, I do not make decisions as to the details of reincarnation. I merely carry it out. You'd have to ask Glitter how she assigns souls – and I do not recommend doing that."
Okaaaaay, fiiiiine.
He studied me for a long moment, opened his mouth, and then shut it again, rather like a fish. I waited for him to ask if I were positive I didn't want to use the Tea of Forgetfulness this time, but all he said was, "Are you ready?"
Yep. Hit me.
And he did.
My third life as a catfish, I swam downstream as far as I could, mapping the riverbed and identifying the types of water spirits here. I saw catfish and loaches, gobies and mussels, softshell turtles and crabs, water snakes and shrimp, all of whom answered to the local dragon king.
Steering clear of them, I followed a school of silvery baby salmon who were migrating to the sea. They were so tiny and weak that they hid during the day and only came out at night, when they'd point their tails downstream and let the currents carry them along. At first, they eyeballed me warily and darted away if I got too close, but after a week, they grew used to my broad, dark form. The bolder ones even flashed forward to nibble my whiskers. They were pretty cute, I had to confess.
Even if I did occasionally get an urge to eat one.
My fish brain kept calling them food, while my Piri-self was curious about how a catfish's perception of flavor differed from a human's. Salmon had been served in the palace, after all. And I'd eaten it as a fox.
However, if I attacked even one baby salmon, the rest would never trust me again. So I amused myself by playing tag with them and refrained from eating any kind of fish in front of them, just in case. For the duration of our trip, I fed on insects, water snails, and plants, noting the change in species as the fresh river water gradually turned brackish. Eventually it grew too salty for me, and I waved a flipper at the baby salmon as they vanished into the sea.
See you next year, I called, even though they couldn't understand me.
Then I swam back upstream towards that roof tile.
"That was an encouraging life," Flicker praised the next time I saw him. For some reason, his lips were twitching towards an attempt at a smile. "You showed flashes of altruism, Piri."
I did?
I hadn't thought that leaping into a fishing net so I could gain karma so I could advance to a higher Tier counted as altruism, but hey, if that were how the Bureau of Reincarnation defined it, I wasn't going to argue.
I mean, of course I did! The cycle of reincarnation is helping me become a better person, just as it was designed to! I'm learning to view my past lives through fresh eyes – literally; one fresh set per life – and I am so, so ashamed of the person I used to be –
Flicker was groaning and massaging his temples again. "No need to lay it on so thick," he muttered. His eyes flicked towards a grate on the wall. His hands, I noted, hid his lips from anyone who might be spying through it.
At the image of Cassius hunched over on the other side with his ear pressed to the metal, I let out a happy chime.
Rearranging his face into sober lines, Flicker straightened. "I was referring to those salmon fry, Piri. You could have grown faster by eating them. Instead, you chose to shepherd them to the sea. I was…pleasantly surprised."
I, on the other hand, was appalled.
Of course I could have grown faster from devouring those baby salmon than from scrounging for bugs and plants on the river bottom. So why hadn't I done it? The reincarnation cycle wasn't erasing my personality, was it?
Did I get extra karma for it? I blurted out before remembering that a truly altruistic person wouldn't have asked that. Probably wouldn't even have dreamed of asking that.
Good. That meant I was still me.
"A token amount, for the extremely circuitously indirect benefit to humankind. Less than what you earned as an oyster for ecosystem engineering, I'm afraid. But don't focus on that," Flicker urged. "Focus on the sense of satisfaction you feel when you help others."
Mmmm, yes. I feel very satisfied when I help others. So how much did I help others by turning into their dinner this time?
The poor clerk sighed. "Why do I get the impression that telling you would be a mistake?"
Because it was one. But you're still going to tell me, riiiiiiight?
He sighed again. "I have no idea why…but yes."
I never made the baby salmon mistake again.
Instead, I spent my next dozen lives experimenting with my size at capture. Humans valued catfish primarily in terms of weight, i.e., the heavier, the better. Obviously, I had no way to weigh myself, but I could use length as a proxy. Since Glitter kept reincarnating me in the same river, probably to replenish its catfish population, I'd just swim until I found my roof tile ruler. As the lives passed, it broke apart and crumbled away, but by then I'd learned my growth rate.
After my seventh life, when I spent forty years growing to four feet, Flicker told me that the fisherwoman who caught me won special praise for hooking the largest catfish in local history. Accompanied by her fellow fisherfolk, she paraded up to the castle and presented me to the baron. That night, I was steamed and served whole in the great hall so everyone could admire my magnificence. The joy this banquet brought the baron and his vassals earned me a windfall of karma – but was it worth the decades I'd invested?
Since he was in a hurry, Flicker refused to tell me exact numbers. However, from the thickness of my curriculum vitae, I estimated that I'd gained more karma from that single life than what I could have earned from living two or three times in the same time span. Still, nobles didn't throw a party every time a peasant brought them a big fish, so after some thought, I opted for shorter lives. Humans seemed sufficiently happy with two-feet-long catfish, which also gave me more opportunities to experiment with where and how I was caught. Of course, every time Flicker showed me the "catfish" rune on my file, I wailed about how boring its life was, how intolerably ugly it was, and so on.
It worked. I continued to reincarnate as a catfish.
"You're accumulating karma very…efficiently," Flicker commented after my fourteenth life, his pause conveying deep irony.
I ignored it. I had the measure of him by now: a lonely, bitter, overworked clerk whose social circle consisted of the souls he processed and the colleagues he nodded at in passing in the stairwell. I probably counted as his best friend.
So, how close am I to Black Tier? I chimed, expecting him to confess after much hemming and hawing and hedging that even though he really shouldn't be telling me this, a couple more lives should suffice….
"Not even close." His answer came with no hesitation whatsoever.
What? I nearly tumbled out of the air in shock. Catching myself, I yelped, Wait! I didn't spend that long in White Tier, did I?
Admittedly, after a few centuries, the lives had begun to blur together, but I could swear that I'd already spent longer in Green Tier than I had in White. How could I possibly not be on the cusp of Black?
But Flicker was shaking his head. His chin lifted slightly and his gaze drifted past me to focus on nothing, telltale signs that he was about to start reciting some manual. "The Earth requires significantly larger populations of lower lifeforms than it does higher ones. Have you heard of apex predators?"
Let's pretend I have.
Miracle of miracles, he skipped the natural philosophy lecture and cut to the relevant bit. "Simply put, the amount of karma that you need to advance increases with each Tier."
Increases? That's not fair! Pulsing fiercely, I demanded, How many more lives before I reach Black?
"It's not that simple. There's a very complicated function with many parameters that the Accountants have developed in order to calculate karma per life."
There was one obvious follow-up question: And is that function constant over time, or do they change it whenever they feel like it?
The clerks, as I'd seen, harbored an awe for Accountants second only to their reverence for Glitter. Flicker fixed me with a hard stare. "The Accountants are selected for their personal integrity, Piri. Don't assume that they operate under the same principles – or lack thereof – as you."
Ouch.
I didn't really care, though. He'd revealed enough for me to realize that I had to stop living normal catfish lives.
I had to get creative.
Thanks to my awesome Patreon backers, BananaBobert, Charlotte, Hookshyu, Voligne, and Anonymous! And thanks to everyone for reading!
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Let the heavens tremble.
Oh, they will. Although not soon enough for Piri.
The kind of catfish Piri wants to look like
Presenting...the Piri-catfish! I still don't recommend trusting her, though.
Here is the direct link.
Here is the direct link.
I know, right? Doesn't she look so happy?
For some reason, I can picture Piri saying:
"The Karma system is a perfectly ballanced system, with absolutely NO exploits"
"The Karma system is a perfectly ballanced system, with absolutely NO exploits"
Of course. Exploits? What exploits? Never heard of such of thing!
Cassius does not like this painting by Jaertin
That's not the only thing that mocks you, Cass, but let's not split hairs.
That's not the only thing that mocks you, Cass, but let's not split hairs.
That's amazing! Mind if I threadmark it for the media section?
Sure, if you'd like to? But that meme took like a literal minute to make.
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But it's awesome and I want to be able to find it again in the future!
Well there's no accounting for taste
I'm kind of imagining the painting being hung up in the Dept. of Reincarnation somewhere, after Piri sets a record for karma points in one lifetime. Sort of like one of those Employee of the Month things. Reincarnee of the Century? Something like that.
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Well there's no accounting for taste
I'm kind of imagining the painting being hung up in the Dept. of Reincarnation somewhere, after Piri sets a record for karma points in one lifetime. Sort of like one of those Employee of the Month things. Reincarnee of the Century? Something like that.
That would be hilarious! And they probably hang it right next to the bureau head's office...except he's never around to see it.
Aww, thanks!
Chapter 9: The Water Court of Black Sand Creek
Chapter 9: The Water Court of Black Sand Creek
Flicker, of course, had no intention of letting me brainstorm in his office before he shuffled me off to my new life. He, as he'd informed me so many times, was a busy clerk who had an actual schedule that he had to stick to unless he wanted to pull unpaid overtime, which he didn't. But did all the time anyway. Usually thanks to me.
Since I only saw him every twenty years or so, I considered that a gross exaggeration. Still, he seemed disinclined to help concoct ideas for catfish charity work, meaning that loitering was pointless.
Okay, okay, fine, fine, let's get this over with.
His expression said that we were in complete agreement for once – and he didn't like it nearly as much as he'd thought he would.
As soon as I woke in my egg, I started thinking furiously. How in the world could a regular old catfish perform services for humanity, apart from letting humans eat it? What did humans even do with catfish, besides eat them?
Keep them for pets? That seemed wildly unlikely. Anyone who had the spare change for a private fishpond would prefer koi, while anyone who lacked aforementioned spare change would rather steam me or stir-fry me than lounge on a bench under a willow gazing languidly in my general direction.
Did humans study catfish? Some eccentric scholar might happen to come across, capture, and keep me for research purposes…but that also seemed unlikely in the extreme. Serican rivers were packed with catfish. They weren't some rare, prized species like that butterfly I'd reincarnated as back in White Tier, after I kept pestering Flicker about what kind of caterpillar I was.
After I kept pestering Flicker…. Now I was positive that Glitter spied on her clerks. Knowledge to file away for later. Right now, I needed altruistic activities to pad out my curriculum vitae.
As I glared at the watery world around me, I finally admitted that the obvious place to start was the local Water Court, because dragons controlled the rain that was critical to human agriculture. The most important of them ruled from crystal palaces deep under the Four Seas, lakes, and major rivers, served by mermaids, fish, crabs, shrimp, and other aquatic creatures that had awakened. (Guess those spirits were never advancing past Green Tier, poor things.) Lesser dragons oversaw creeks, inlets, marshes, swamps, ponds, and so on. Although we called all of them "dragon kings," in most cases, the title "king" was about as appropriate for one of these glorified water snakes as it was for a human bandit-turned-warlord on the fringes of the Serican Empire. The dragon king of this particular river dwelled in a humble grotto that I'd seen many times in my many lives.
I'd always swum straight past it.
Whenever I thought of dragons, I saw the hard, unblinking stares of the Dragon Kings of the Four Seas as they watched my trial. Not a single one of them had spoken up for me.
I hated dragons. All dragons.
And now I was going to ask one for help? Go as a supplicant into his court, kneel and kowtow before him, and beseech him for meaningful work?
At the image, I recoiled so hard that I knocked my egg into my siblings'. All around me, their thin, silvery forms twitched and wiggled around their yolk sacs until dozens of pairs of eyes were glaring at me.
Those eyes, those blank, black eyes –
In a flash, I was back in the Hall of Purple Mists, watching as Lady Fate's Three Cadavers handed her the documents she needed to condemn me. They'd stared at me afterwards, knowing what would happen to me, not caring.
A shudder convulsed me all the way down the length of my body. Don't stare! I shrieked. Don't you dare stare at me!
The eyes continued to regard me with no emotion whatsoever. No pity, no mercy, no remorse.
I had to rip them out – rip all of them out! Now! I thrashed as hard as I could, and my egg bounced and jerked crazily, but I was trapped between my egg sac and my egg membrane and I couldn't break free. I couldn't break free!
Stop staring at me! Stop staring at me! Stop staring at me!
Eventually, as the eggs bobbed and rotated, the eyes turned away, and I came back to my senses. Curved around my yolk sac, I floated, limp and worn out.
This must have been what Flicker meant when he said that erasing souls' memories allowed us a fresh start. After all, these eyes belonged to tiny, harmless baby catfish that hadn't even hatched yet. Plus the dragon king of this river probably hadn't attended my trial. Probably hadn't even gotten invited to my trial. I should go talk to him, see if he needed an odd-job fish in the rain department. Maybe he'd be the reasonable, helpful, generous sort.
Yeah, and maybe the Goddess of Life would be content once she got her own department. Somehow, I doubted it.
Still, it couldn't hurt to scout out the Water Court. It wasn't like I had to go inside. All I had to do was hang around the entrance, observe the dragon's visitors and vassals, and extrapolate his personality and potential usefulness. I didn't even have to see him if I didn't want to.
Yes. I could do that. That was what I would do.
As soon as I hatched, I split off from my siblings and swam for the grotto.
"Are you looking for something? Are you lost?" asked a voice.
I pretended not to understand. I was drifting around the dragon king's front gate, acting like a normal catfish fry. The opening was flanked by two posts that I hoped were decorative – if they were required for structural support, then the grotto was in big trouble – and topped by a small, curved roof whose tiles might once have been not-mud-brown. Below it swayed a driftwood board that said in crooked characters, as if it weren't sure how much pride to take in the proclamation either, "Black Sand Creek Water Court."
A pair of shrimp spirits was patrolling this stretch of riverbed, but they'd ignored me since I wasn't a spirit. Not the sharpest of guards, those two. But it did mean that up until now, no one had harassed me –
Something cold and scaly nudged my side.
I jerked. Click click click flapped my fin. Danger danger danger!
Ugh, idiot fish brain. In dangerous situations, never show fear. True fear, anyway.
When I'd wrested back control of the fin and clamped it to my side, I turned. Two feet away floated an amused-looking water snake spirit, one that hadn't lived enough centuries to sprout legs and horns and a mane and transform into a dragon yet. Under her chin dangled a seed pearl, a sign that she held some sort of minor post in the Water Court. "Are you looking for something?" she repeated. "I'm sure you can understand me."
Oh great, a competent spirit who'd actually figured out that I wasn't a normal fish. Time for some flattery.
N-no, I stuttered, feigning shyness. I arched my body forward in a clumsy bow. I – I just hatched today and – I was wondering what the ruler of this river is like…. Are you…the ruler, by any chance…? I made a show of gawking at her seed pearl.
It was irregular. Lumpy. Off-white. Barely larger than a grain of sand. Back in my Prime Minister days, I wouldn't even have threaded it onto a string for a tassel.
The water snake preened, tossing her head to make the pearl gleam. (It didn't.) "No, I am the Prime Minister of the Dragon King of Black Sand Creek," she announced, making it sound like the highest honor achievable. Maybe it was, in this river. "He is served by two carp captains, a company of shrimp guards, and a company of frog guards."
That…didn't sound particularly impressive to me. In fact, it sounded as if she were the only minister in the Black Sand Creek Water Court, which meant that she was basically a glorified clerk.
Still, I nodded along and opened and shut my mouth like a goldfish. Wow! Prime Minister? Two captains? Two whole companies of guards? What a glorious court!
She arched her long, skinny neck even more. If she weren't careful, she was going to tie it into a knot. "Isn't it just? Come, let me take you on a tour."
On instinct, I recoiled. My answer was an immediate, curt, Oh no, that won't be necessary. When she looked taken aback, I hastily tacked on an insincere, I couldn't possibly take up so much of your time, my lady. I know that as Prime Minister, you must be so busy….
"Oh no, it's no trouble at all. Come, come," she insisted, from which I inferred that she appreciated the chance to show off. "If you're lucky, you might even catch a glimpse of His Majesty Himself."
Oh, yay. Just what I'd wanted. But at this point, what else could I say besides a weak, Uh, sure, if you're sure it's not too much trouble?
"Excellent. This way, please." And she curved her tail around me and swept me through the gate.
The further down the tunnel we swam, the darker it got, until my mortal eyes could no longer distinguish where the water ended and the walls began. In my newborn fish body, I couldn't keep pace with the water snake, and she didn't bother to slow down. Soon I was gasping and splashing weakly. Good thing catfish had good hearing, so at least I could swim after her swishing sounds.
After an eternity, a yellow glow began to light the tunnel, and the water snake finally stopped in front of a dull red door. Above the lintel bobbed a lotus-shaped lantern, similar to the votive lamps that humans floated down the rivers during the Moon of Hungry Ghosts. (Supposedly, their light guided the spirits of those who had drowned to reincarnation as humans. Pure superstition, as I now knew – reincarnating as a human depended partially on your curriculum vitae and entirely on the whims of the gods.) Was this dragon king so poor that he had to repurpose votive lamps as lighting fixtures?
"Behold, the audience chamber," announced the water snake when I caught up.
Audience…chamber? I wheezed. My muscles were floppy. My fins sagged. My whiskers drooped. Tired. So, so tired.
"Yes. Through this portal." She waved her tail at the door.
What a…beautiful door…. If I kept praising it, could we stay here longer? I could barely move. Love…the color…..
"Isn't it a resplendent shade of red? His Majesty selected it personally." She made a show of pressing the side of her head to the door and listening hard. Then she stage-whispered, "You're in luck. His Majesty isn't holding court right now. Let me show you the audience chamber." With a flick of her tail, she flung the door open – or tried to.
It stuck.
Bunching up her coils, she shoved it again (well, that explained the scratches on the paint). This time, the door creaked open. "Behold, the audience chamber of the Black Sand Creek Water Court!"
Across the room, a scraggly black dragon that was nodding off on a driftwood throne bolted upright. "What the – !"
"Your Majesty!" cried the water snake, throwing herself to the packed-earth floor so violently that the water currents tumbled me back out the door. As I fought to right myself, I heard her screech, "Forgive me! Your humble servant failed to realize that she was in Your August Presence!"
I swear, I could hear the capitalization.
"Oh, calm down, Nagi," groused the dragon, slouching back down. His scales made horrible scraping noises across the wood. "You're giving me a headache."
"A headache, Your Most August Majesty! Shall I send for the Royal Physician?"
"What royal physician? Nagi, I just got rid of Captain Carpio, and before you know it, Captain Carpa is going to be here, pestering me about which one of them outranks the other when she knows I couldn't care less. Also, it's irrelevant. So, unless you're here to tell me that you plan to sort out that mess, please let me have some peace and quiet."
Nagi the water snake hissed. "Your Majesty, we have a visitor," she scolded, sounding like a nanny or governess. "Do try to make an effort to act regal in front of outsiders."
"A visitor? I don't see anyone."
Straightening, she looked around, which I took as my cue to paddle back in. "Ah, here it is. Behold, Your Majesty! The rarest of rarities – an unawakened fish that can talk!"
"Oh? A talking fish?" Curiosity piqued, the dragon raised his head. His shaggy, stringy mane parted to reveal the pearl under his chin that granted him authority over Black Sand Creek. It wasn't a particularly impressive pearl. I'd worn much better.
I curved my body into a deep bow but didn't speak.
"Come closer," commanded the dragon. "Say something."
I was tempted to parrot "something" right back at him, but thought better of it. Instead, I swam forward until I was a few feet away and inquired, What would Your Majesty like this humble servant to say?
"You're right! It does talk!" he marveled, making Nagi arch her neck proudly. "But how?" Pig-like nostrils flaring, he scrutinized me from head to tail. "It looks like a normal catfish fry."
"That is what I thought too initially. It is why I brought it to Your Majesty, in hopes of providing some amusement that can lighten the burden of ruling Black Sand Creek."
Yeah. Sure. That was very much not the truth, and the dragon knew it too.
"Oh, drop the act, Nagi," he complained. "It's just a fish. You don't have to show off for it."
The water snake's long body tensed. "It may be 'just a fish,' but if you get into the habit of vulgar speech, it will be that much harder to remember to speak properly in front of your peers. Do you want to humiliate yourself again this year at the Meeting of the Dragon Host?"
Whatever happened last year must have been devastating, because the dragon slunk down in his chair, ears and even horns drooping. Fascinated, I watched their exchange. The dynamics reminded me of my own interactions with Cassius, even if I'd been a lot more subtle.
"No…," the dragon mumbled.
"Then practice!"
At that, he shot back up. "Silence! You go too far, vassal."
"Well, I never – !" began Nagi, indignant, before she realized that he was behaving precisely the way she'd badgered him to. She sank into a pile of coils on the floor. "Forgive me, Your Majesty, if in my zeal to serve you, I have overstepped."
Over-slithered? Over-swum?
"Just this once, in light of your many decades of devoted service, We will overlook it," proclaimed the dragon. "See that you do not forget yourself again."
That wasn't half-bad, actually.
Nagi's eyes gleamed with approval. "Your Majesty is ever gracious."
He accepted that with a slow, arrogant nod. "Now, as for this tribute that you have brought Us – "
Before I could react, his hands flashed forward. Four long claws closed around me, forming a cage.
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Flicker, of course, had no intention of letting me brainstorm in his office before he shuffled me off to my new life. He, as he'd informed me so many times, was a busy clerk who had an actual schedule that he had to stick to unless he wanted to pull unpaid overtime, which he didn't. But did all the time anyway. Usually thanks to me.
Since I only saw him every twenty years or so, I considered that a gross exaggeration. Still, he seemed disinclined to help concoct ideas for catfish charity work, meaning that loitering was pointless.
Okay, okay, fine, fine, let's get this over with.
His expression said that we were in complete agreement for once – and he didn't like it nearly as much as he'd thought he would.
As soon as I woke in my egg, I started thinking furiously. How in the world could a regular old catfish perform services for humanity, apart from letting humans eat it? What did humans even do with catfish, besides eat them?
Keep them for pets? That seemed wildly unlikely. Anyone who had the spare change for a private fishpond would prefer koi, while anyone who lacked aforementioned spare change would rather steam me or stir-fry me than lounge on a bench under a willow gazing languidly in my general direction.
Did humans study catfish? Some eccentric scholar might happen to come across, capture, and keep me for research purposes…but that also seemed unlikely in the extreme. Serican rivers were packed with catfish. They weren't some rare, prized species like that butterfly I'd reincarnated as back in White Tier, after I kept pestering Flicker about what kind of caterpillar I was.
After I kept pestering Flicker…. Now I was positive that Glitter spied on her clerks. Knowledge to file away for later. Right now, I needed altruistic activities to pad out my curriculum vitae.
As I glared at the watery world around me, I finally admitted that the obvious place to start was the local Water Court, because dragons controlled the rain that was critical to human agriculture. The most important of them ruled from crystal palaces deep under the Four Seas, lakes, and major rivers, served by mermaids, fish, crabs, shrimp, and other aquatic creatures that had awakened. (Guess those spirits were never advancing past Green Tier, poor things.) Lesser dragons oversaw creeks, inlets, marshes, swamps, ponds, and so on. Although we called all of them "dragon kings," in most cases, the title "king" was about as appropriate for one of these glorified water snakes as it was for a human bandit-turned-warlord on the fringes of the Serican Empire. The dragon king of this particular river dwelled in a humble grotto that I'd seen many times in my many lives.
I'd always swum straight past it.
Whenever I thought of dragons, I saw the hard, unblinking stares of the Dragon Kings of the Four Seas as they watched my trial. Not a single one of them had spoken up for me.
I hated dragons. All dragons.
And now I was going to ask one for help? Go as a supplicant into his court, kneel and kowtow before him, and beseech him for meaningful work?
At the image, I recoiled so hard that I knocked my egg into my siblings'. All around me, their thin, silvery forms twitched and wiggled around their yolk sacs until dozens of pairs of eyes were glaring at me.
Those eyes, those blank, black eyes –
In a flash, I was back in the Hall of Purple Mists, watching as Lady Fate's Three Cadavers handed her the documents she needed to condemn me. They'd stared at me afterwards, knowing what would happen to me, not caring.
A shudder convulsed me all the way down the length of my body. Don't stare! I shrieked. Don't you dare stare at me!
The eyes continued to regard me with no emotion whatsoever. No pity, no mercy, no remorse.
I had to rip them out – rip all of them out! Now! I thrashed as hard as I could, and my egg bounced and jerked crazily, but I was trapped between my egg sac and my egg membrane and I couldn't break free. I couldn't break free!
Stop staring at me! Stop staring at me! Stop staring at me!
Eventually, as the eggs bobbed and rotated, the eyes turned away, and I came back to my senses. Curved around my yolk sac, I floated, limp and worn out.
This must have been what Flicker meant when he said that erasing souls' memories allowed us a fresh start. After all, these eyes belonged to tiny, harmless baby catfish that hadn't even hatched yet. Plus the dragon king of this river probably hadn't attended my trial. Probably hadn't even gotten invited to my trial. I should go talk to him, see if he needed an odd-job fish in the rain department. Maybe he'd be the reasonable, helpful, generous sort.
Yeah, and maybe the Goddess of Life would be content once she got her own department. Somehow, I doubted it.
Still, it couldn't hurt to scout out the Water Court. It wasn't like I had to go inside. All I had to do was hang around the entrance, observe the dragon's visitors and vassals, and extrapolate his personality and potential usefulness. I didn't even have to see him if I didn't want to.
Yes. I could do that. That was what I would do.
As soon as I hatched, I split off from my siblings and swam for the grotto.
"Are you looking for something? Are you lost?" asked a voice.
I pretended not to understand. I was drifting around the dragon king's front gate, acting like a normal catfish fry. The opening was flanked by two posts that I hoped were decorative – if they were required for structural support, then the grotto was in big trouble – and topped by a small, curved roof whose tiles might once have been not-mud-brown. Below it swayed a driftwood board that said in crooked characters, as if it weren't sure how much pride to take in the proclamation either, "Black Sand Creek Water Court."
A pair of shrimp spirits was patrolling this stretch of riverbed, but they'd ignored me since I wasn't a spirit. Not the sharpest of guards, those two. But it did mean that up until now, no one had harassed me –
Something cold and scaly nudged my side.
I jerked. Click click click flapped my fin. Danger danger danger!
Ugh, idiot fish brain. In dangerous situations, never show fear. True fear, anyway.
When I'd wrested back control of the fin and clamped it to my side, I turned. Two feet away floated an amused-looking water snake spirit, one that hadn't lived enough centuries to sprout legs and horns and a mane and transform into a dragon yet. Under her chin dangled a seed pearl, a sign that she held some sort of minor post in the Water Court. "Are you looking for something?" she repeated. "I'm sure you can understand me."
Oh great, a competent spirit who'd actually figured out that I wasn't a normal fish. Time for some flattery.
N-no, I stuttered, feigning shyness. I arched my body forward in a clumsy bow. I – I just hatched today and – I was wondering what the ruler of this river is like…. Are you…the ruler, by any chance…? I made a show of gawking at her seed pearl.
It was irregular. Lumpy. Off-white. Barely larger than a grain of sand. Back in my Prime Minister days, I wouldn't even have threaded it onto a string for a tassel.
The water snake preened, tossing her head to make the pearl gleam. (It didn't.) "No, I am the Prime Minister of the Dragon King of Black Sand Creek," she announced, making it sound like the highest honor achievable. Maybe it was, in this river. "He is served by two carp captains, a company of shrimp guards, and a company of frog guards."
That…didn't sound particularly impressive to me. In fact, it sounded as if she were the only minister in the Black Sand Creek Water Court, which meant that she was basically a glorified clerk.
Still, I nodded along and opened and shut my mouth like a goldfish. Wow! Prime Minister? Two captains? Two whole companies of guards? What a glorious court!
She arched her long, skinny neck even more. If she weren't careful, she was going to tie it into a knot. "Isn't it just? Come, let me take you on a tour."
On instinct, I recoiled. My answer was an immediate, curt, Oh no, that won't be necessary. When she looked taken aback, I hastily tacked on an insincere, I couldn't possibly take up so much of your time, my lady. I know that as Prime Minister, you must be so busy….
"Oh no, it's no trouble at all. Come, come," she insisted, from which I inferred that she appreciated the chance to show off. "If you're lucky, you might even catch a glimpse of His Majesty Himself."
Oh, yay. Just what I'd wanted. But at this point, what else could I say besides a weak, Uh, sure, if you're sure it's not too much trouble?
"Excellent. This way, please." And she curved her tail around me and swept me through the gate.
The further down the tunnel we swam, the darker it got, until my mortal eyes could no longer distinguish where the water ended and the walls began. In my newborn fish body, I couldn't keep pace with the water snake, and she didn't bother to slow down. Soon I was gasping and splashing weakly. Good thing catfish had good hearing, so at least I could swim after her swishing sounds.
After an eternity, a yellow glow began to light the tunnel, and the water snake finally stopped in front of a dull red door. Above the lintel bobbed a lotus-shaped lantern, similar to the votive lamps that humans floated down the rivers during the Moon of Hungry Ghosts. (Supposedly, their light guided the spirits of those who had drowned to reincarnation as humans. Pure superstition, as I now knew – reincarnating as a human depended partially on your curriculum vitae and entirely on the whims of the gods.) Was this dragon king so poor that he had to repurpose votive lamps as lighting fixtures?
"Behold, the audience chamber," announced the water snake when I caught up.
Audience…chamber? I wheezed. My muscles were floppy. My fins sagged. My whiskers drooped. Tired. So, so tired.
"Yes. Through this portal." She waved her tail at the door.
What a…beautiful door…. If I kept praising it, could we stay here longer? I could barely move. Love…the color…..
"Isn't it a resplendent shade of red? His Majesty selected it personally." She made a show of pressing the side of her head to the door and listening hard. Then she stage-whispered, "You're in luck. His Majesty isn't holding court right now. Let me show you the audience chamber." With a flick of her tail, she flung the door open – or tried to.
It stuck.
Bunching up her coils, she shoved it again (well, that explained the scratches on the paint). This time, the door creaked open. "Behold, the audience chamber of the Black Sand Creek Water Court!"
Across the room, a scraggly black dragon that was nodding off on a driftwood throne bolted upright. "What the – !"
"Your Majesty!" cried the water snake, throwing herself to the packed-earth floor so violently that the water currents tumbled me back out the door. As I fought to right myself, I heard her screech, "Forgive me! Your humble servant failed to realize that she was in Your August Presence!"
I swear, I could hear the capitalization.
"Oh, calm down, Nagi," groused the dragon, slouching back down. His scales made horrible scraping noises across the wood. "You're giving me a headache."
"A headache, Your Most August Majesty! Shall I send for the Royal Physician?"
"What royal physician? Nagi, I just got rid of Captain Carpio, and before you know it, Captain Carpa is going to be here, pestering me about which one of them outranks the other when she knows I couldn't care less. Also, it's irrelevant. So, unless you're here to tell me that you plan to sort out that mess, please let me have some peace and quiet."
Nagi the water snake hissed. "Your Majesty, we have a visitor," she scolded, sounding like a nanny or governess. "Do try to make an effort to act regal in front of outsiders."
"A visitor? I don't see anyone."
Straightening, she looked around, which I took as my cue to paddle back in. "Ah, here it is. Behold, Your Majesty! The rarest of rarities – an unawakened fish that can talk!"
"Oh? A talking fish?" Curiosity piqued, the dragon raised his head. His shaggy, stringy mane parted to reveal the pearl under his chin that granted him authority over Black Sand Creek. It wasn't a particularly impressive pearl. I'd worn much better.
I curved my body into a deep bow but didn't speak.
"Come closer," commanded the dragon. "Say something."
I was tempted to parrot "something" right back at him, but thought better of it. Instead, I swam forward until I was a few feet away and inquired, What would Your Majesty like this humble servant to say?
"You're right! It does talk!" he marveled, making Nagi arch her neck proudly. "But how?" Pig-like nostrils flaring, he scrutinized me from head to tail. "It looks like a normal catfish fry."
"That is what I thought too initially. It is why I brought it to Your Majesty, in hopes of providing some amusement that can lighten the burden of ruling Black Sand Creek."
Yeah. Sure. That was very much not the truth, and the dragon knew it too.
"Oh, drop the act, Nagi," he complained. "It's just a fish. You don't have to show off for it."
The water snake's long body tensed. "It may be 'just a fish,' but if you get into the habit of vulgar speech, it will be that much harder to remember to speak properly in front of your peers. Do you want to humiliate yourself again this year at the Meeting of the Dragon Host?"
Whatever happened last year must have been devastating, because the dragon slunk down in his chair, ears and even horns drooping. Fascinated, I watched their exchange. The dynamics reminded me of my own interactions with Cassius, even if I'd been a lot more subtle.
"No…," the dragon mumbled.
"Then practice!"
At that, he shot back up. "Silence! You go too far, vassal."
"Well, I never – !" began Nagi, indignant, before she realized that he was behaving precisely the way she'd badgered him to. She sank into a pile of coils on the floor. "Forgive me, Your Majesty, if in my zeal to serve you, I have overstepped."
Over-slithered? Over-swum?
"Just this once, in light of your many decades of devoted service, We will overlook it," proclaimed the dragon. "See that you do not forget yourself again."
That wasn't half-bad, actually.
Nagi's eyes gleamed with approval. "Your Majesty is ever gracious."
He accepted that with a slow, arrogant nod. "Now, as for this tribute that you have brought Us – "
Before I could react, his hands flashed forward. Four long claws closed around me, forming a cage.
Thanks to my awesome Patreon backers, BananaBobert, Charlotte, Hookshyu, Voligne, and Anonymous! And thanks to everyone for reading!
- Location
- PA
Hrrrm. Methinks this was a questionable idea the fox had. Though at the same time...Uhh...
I'm gonna be honest, I feel like if I had a company of shrimp and frogs at my command I wouldn't know what to do with them. Not even a question of their power and expertise, I'd have to ask those two squabbling carp captains what sort of tasks they would consider to be within their capabilities and it'd just be a mess and a half.
I'm gonna be honest, I feel like if I had a company of shrimp and frogs at my command I wouldn't know what to do with them. Not even a question of their power and expertise, I'd have to ask those two squabbling carp captains what sort of tasks they would consider to be within their capabilities and it'd just be a mess and a half.
Yeah, this did not go the way Piri was expecting. She clearly needs to work on her spy skills.
Heh, everything is a mess and a half where those carp captains are involved! You'll get to see them in all their glory later.
Definitely! This maaaay be a case of her getting what she needs rather than what she wants.
Chapter 10: The Dragon King's Pet
Chapter 10: The Dragon King's Pet
I couldn't help it. I squeaked.
"It's all right, little fishy. Dooooon't worry. Everything's all right," singsonged the dragon. So much for his regal act. Raising me to eye level, he studied me through his claws. "Aren't you a pweedy weedle fish?"
No, no, I really wasn't. I was scrawny and had bulbous eyes and an oversized jaw, and on top of that, I was still stuck to a yolk sac. But then again, the dragon was on the weedy side himself, with bulging eyes and gnarled, yellowish horns like a hag's fingernails. His scales weren't the gleaming black of polished jade, either, but the dull, greasy shade of a peasant's unwashed hair.
"It really does look like a completely normal catfish fry," he mused. Still coiled up on the ground, Nagi practically quivered for him to solicit her opinion, but instead, he asked me, "Do you have a name, little fishy?"
Well, I certainly wasn't telling him "Piri." Even if the Goddess of Life hadn't banned me from discussing her boon, I couldn't see any advantage in letting other spirits know who I was. I was, after all, notorious. No, Your Majesty. It would be an honor if You were to bestow one upon me.
His eyes lit up. Up close, the rings of red and blue around the black pupils reminded me of archery targets. "Awww, who's a cute weedle fishy? Who's a cute weedle fishy? Yes you are!"
Great.
"Hmmmm, what should I name you? What's a good name for a fish?" He gazed across the audience chamber as he consulted his mental archives. "Fishy? No, no, that's too boring." (But appropriate. There was something odd about me.) "You're a catfish so…Cat? Catty? Kitty?"
Well, I supposed I had eaten my fair share of fish.
Unable to contain herself any longer, Nagi spoke up. "Perhaps a name that is more dignified, Your Majesty? A name that is worthy of the Dragon King of Black Sand Creek?"
The dragon blinked. "A dignified name. Uh…. Let's see…. Are there any good poems about Black Sand Creek?"
Poems, almost certainly. Good ones, most likely not. As I'd seen in Cassius' court, humans loved to attend garden-viewing parties where they would compose poems on the sunset over the mountains or the wind that rustled the willows or other such worn-out imagery. And then they'd recite them to one another. For hours.
I'd banned these parties on and off, mostly for the sake of my ears, but also because reform-minded scholars sometimes hid political protests in their verses. Inconsistent censorship kept them in a useful state of ferment.
Anyway, Flicker had mentioned a baron in a castle on the banks of Black Sand Creek, which meant that the local nobles would have generated their fair share of "poetry." I'd bet a lot of it centered on the moon's reflection in the river.
And indeed, the next sentence that came out of the dragon's mouth was: "Isn't there that one poem about the moon breaking through the clouds and reflecting on the river?" Clearing his throat and lifting his chin, he declaimed, "A strip of moonlight breaks through the clouds/And spreads across the surface of the water/Half the river is silver, the other half black/I love the fifteenth of the Harvest Moon."
Oh, this kept getting better. This wasn't just a bad poem – it was a bad plagiarism of one of Marcius' poems. The dragon, however, did not seem to be aware of that.
"Moonlight…clouds…. Got it! Mooncloud! Your name will be Mooncloud!"
Shockingly, that wasn't such a bad name. I bobbed my head before he could come up with something worse. I love it, Your Majesty.
"Mooncloud it is. Mooncloud the Talking Catfish. Nagi, make it a nametag and find a nice cage for it, will you?"
A cage? I recoiled, banging into his claws.
At my distress, the dragon brought me close to his face again. "Don't worry, little Mooncloud, it will be the nicest, prettiest, comfortable-est cage a fish could want. It will be so much better than living on your own in the wild. Here, you'll get as much food as you can eat – well, as long as you don't become overweight, because that's unhealthy – and you'll be safe from predators and fishermen. You'll like it here, won't you?" Without waiting for my response, he crooned, "Yes, you will."
I didn't.
Oh, it wasn't that I lacked for food or care or even entertainment. Delighted with his new pet, the dragon had his crab servants carry my cage everywhere he went. At night, he slept with it hanging from a stand by his bed. In the morning, he ate breakfast with it next to him on the table. While he sucked the spiritual essence from a bowl of seed pearls, I crunched through my own dish of plump water bugs. Afterwards, when he headed to the audience chamber, which apparently doubled as his study, the crabs set my cage on a little table next to his throne, so he could glance at me whenever he needed a break. And, of course, so he could show off this amazing, talking, unawakened fish to all his visitors. That was annoying, but once we got the obligatory oohing and aahing out of the way, I got to hear about Black Sand Creek politics, which was surprisingly dramatic. I didn't even mind being caged all the time, since as I grew, the crabs kept transferring me into bigger cages so I always had room to stretch my fins.
No, what I really couldn't stand was the way the dragon treated me as if I were an ignorant fox kit. Sometimes it reached truly humiliating proportions, such as the time the Black Sand Creek Pearl Farm's superintendent came to petition for relief from bandits.
"The duck demons are back," complained the freshwater pearl mussel spirit. "They keep diving down to dig out the mussels. We've confirmed that they're selling them to humans both for the pearls and as food. But every time the frog guards give chase, the ducks just flap across the border into Baron Claymouth's fief, and then we can't do anything!"
Donning a grave expression, the dragon intoned, "That is serious indeed, Nacre."
Coiled on his right, Nagi hissed. "This is an outrage! Your Majesty, we must act quickly and decisively. Shall I send for the captains?"
"Do so," ordered the dragon.
She waved her tail at a young crab messenger, who scuttled off down the tunnel.
By now, I'd learned that pearls played a critical role in the underwater economy. Not only did their essence provide food for water spirits, but, once drained, the larger pearls served as emblems of authority and the tiny ones as currency. That meant that the duck demons' actions were the equivalent of human bandits attacking gold mines. How would the dragon king deal with this situation? How would I deal with this situation? As I ran through options in my head, Captain Carpa arrived and made her bow.
The dragon frowned. "Where is Captain Carpio?" he asked the crab.
"Apologies, Your Majesty," she chirped, clicking her claws together. "I was unable to find him."
Straightening, Captain Carpa spoke up. "It is regrettable, Your Majesty, but my colleague is often difficult to locate when there are urgent matters at stake." Her tone insinuated that he spent his shifts frolicking on the surface or carousing in underwater pubs.
Nagi hissed again, and Captain Carpa's thick lips curved into a smug grin.
"Well," fretted the dragon. "Well, I suppose that can't be helped. Find him and tell him to come here at once," he ordered the crab. As it scurried off, he turned back to the carp. "Captain, the duck demons are robbing the pearl farm again. I thought I told you to double the guard. Why is it still happening?"
Hmm, yes, doubling the guard was a good first step. That's what I would do too, just for a few weeks. After that, I'd report to Cassius that our splendid show of force had driven off the bandits like the cowards they were, so now it was safe to decrease the guard. Paying them was so expensive, and we mustn't waste money, isn't that right, Imperial Treasurer…? The Imperial Treasurer would glare at me but swallow his counterarguments, Cassius would agree, we'd transfer the guards elsewhere, and then of course the bandits would return and we'd repeat the whole cycle. Fiscal uncertainty worked wonders for the economy.
Oh, wait. The goal here wasn't to destroy the Water Court. Right.
Captain Carpa was sweeping another bow. "Regrettably, recruitment has been down this moon. Perhaps if we offer additional inducements – a salary increase, for example – we might be able to make the position more attractive to young spirits."
Nagi reproved her, "That's what you said last moon too, when you requested extra funding. A request that we granted, may I remind you."
Captain Carpa waved her fin in a helpless gesture. "Alas, it appears that the inducements were insufficient."
I had my own suspicions about why that had been the case. Captain Carpa was exactly the sort of oily, corrupt creature that I used to employ.
Nagi was about to interrogate her further when loud, swooshing sounds from the tunnel interrupted. An agitated Captain Carpio burst into the audience chamber. Catching sight of his colleague, who looked as if she'd already been here for some time and was deeply involved in a very important conference, he blustered, "Your Majesty! I was escorting the courier down to the Eastern Sea. I came as soon as I heard!"
Him, I actually believed.
"Nacre informed us that the duck demons are robbing the pearl farm again," Nagi summarized for him. "Captain Carpa reports that she has had trouble with recruitment and hence cannot double the guard. What do you know of the matter?"
Captain Carpio spat a stream of bubbles at Captain Carpa. "Prime Minister, I've warned you over and over that Carpa is incompetent. Plus everyone and their unawakened cousins know that she embezzles."
"Says the bully who swaggers into pubs and expects free food and drink 'for his service'," she snorted. She even managed to make air quotes (water quotes?) with her fins.
"You – !" Captain Carpio flung himself at her, biting at her sides with his pointy teeth.
Whirling, she whacked him away with her tail, then lunged for his fins.
The dragon and Nagi didn't even look startled, although Nacre did burrow partway into the floor.
What kind of court was this? No matter how much Marcius and his allies had hated me, none of them would ever have punched me in the throne room. And I would never have bitten them either. Not in the throne room, anyway.
I found myself swimming around and around my cage in tight, agitated circles and forced myself to stop. How about mercenaries? I suggested.
No one heard. The dragon was rubbing his temples, Nagi was flicking her tongue in irritation, and each captain was trying to maim the other into retirement.
Thrusting my head through the bars, I yelled, How about hiring mercenaries!
A shocked silence fell over the audience chamber. The two carp broke apart, fins torn, teeth bared. Nacre stopped burrowing and poked the lip of his shell out of his hole. The dragon and Nagi gaped at me. Had these water spirits never heard of mercenaries?
Umm, you know, they're professional guards you can hire for money?
They kept staring.
Hmm, maybe it wasn't because they'd never heard of mercenaries. Maybe it was the opposite. Clearing my throat, I elaborated, It sounds like Black Sand Creek has a cash flow problem, but surely this expense is a good investment for preventing future raids. Even if the presence of mercenaries tends to cause other problems, I'd still say it's a reasonable stopgap measure, and I urge Your Majesty to – eek!
The dragon had swept up my cage. Cradling it in the crook of one foreleg, he stuck a claw through the bars and stroked my forehead. "Aren't you cute!" he cried. "Aren't you just the cutest, smartest, prettiest little catfish in the world!"
Uhhhh…. Did that mean he intended to implement my proposal?
He held up the cage so Nacre could get a good look at me. "Isn't she just the smartest?"
"Yes, Your Majesty," agreed the mussel obediently.
"Mercenaries are a terrible idea," Captain Carpio told the dragon without a glance in my direction. "They're overpriced to start with, and they always demand more and more pay. And then they raid you if you don't cave in."
Not always – I tried to defend my idea, but the dragon cut me off by thumping my cage back onto the table.
Ignoring me, he turned to Captain Carpa. "And you? What are your thoughts?"
She hesitated for so long that I thought she was genuinely considering it. At last, she squeezed out a reluctant, "I agree with my colleague."
Oh. She just didn't want to go on record as agreeing with her rival on anything.
Wait, Your Majesty, I think you should –
He talked right over me. "Nagi? Thoughts?"
I stuck my fins between the bars and flapped them, trying to catch her eye, but the snake didn't look at me either. "I agree with the captains. Mercenaries are too expensive and too risky. It would be more advisable to increase the recruitment budget for the next moon."
If they were going to funnel more money into Captain Carpa's metaphorical pockets anyway, then why not at least try to negotiate with a mercenary captain? It might be cheaper. And it definitely would be more effective. Your Majesty –
The dragon lifted his chin, letting the other spirits see his pearl. "Then it is decided. Thank you for bringing this matter to Our attention," he told Nacre. "We shall see to the better defense of Our pearl farm."
"Thank you, Your Majesty." Crawling out of his hole, the mussel galumphed out of the audience chamber on his one foot.
"Come up with a recruitment plan and present it to us tomorrow," Nagi ordered the captains, who glared at each other. "You are dismissed."
On the way out, Captain Carpio shoved ahead of Captain Carpa, who made a show of wincing and clapping a fin to her side.
As soon as the door closed behind them, I threw myself against the bars of my cage. Look, Your Majesty, I still think you should consider at least contacting a mercenary captain and getting a sense of their rates –
Sticking out a claw, the dragon tickled me under the chin. "Isn't she so smart?" he marveled to Nagi. "How did she get so smart?"
She puffed up with pride. "I am glad that my humble gift is so pleasing to Your Majesty."
The dragon scooped up the cage again and admired me through the bars. "So pretty too. Such a pretty catfish. Aren't you the prettiest little catfish in the world? Yes you are!"
I gave up. At least I was earning karma for all the happiness I was bringing him, right?
A/N 1: If anyone is wondering about the poem, it's a bad adaption of this one by Bai Juyi.
A/N 2: Thanks to my awesome Patreon backers, BananaBobert, Charlotte, Hookshyu, Voligne, and Anonymous! And thanks to everyone for reading!
I couldn't help it. I squeaked.
"It's all right, little fishy. Dooooon't worry. Everything's all right," singsonged the dragon. So much for his regal act. Raising me to eye level, he studied me through his claws. "Aren't you a pweedy weedle fish?"
No, no, I really wasn't. I was scrawny and had bulbous eyes and an oversized jaw, and on top of that, I was still stuck to a yolk sac. But then again, the dragon was on the weedy side himself, with bulging eyes and gnarled, yellowish horns like a hag's fingernails. His scales weren't the gleaming black of polished jade, either, but the dull, greasy shade of a peasant's unwashed hair.
"It really does look like a completely normal catfish fry," he mused. Still coiled up on the ground, Nagi practically quivered for him to solicit her opinion, but instead, he asked me, "Do you have a name, little fishy?"
Well, I certainly wasn't telling him "Piri." Even if the Goddess of Life hadn't banned me from discussing her boon, I couldn't see any advantage in letting other spirits know who I was. I was, after all, notorious. No, Your Majesty. It would be an honor if You were to bestow one upon me.
His eyes lit up. Up close, the rings of red and blue around the black pupils reminded me of archery targets. "Awww, who's a cute weedle fishy? Who's a cute weedle fishy? Yes you are!"
Great.
"Hmmmm, what should I name you? What's a good name for a fish?" He gazed across the audience chamber as he consulted his mental archives. "Fishy? No, no, that's too boring." (But appropriate. There was something odd about me.) "You're a catfish so…Cat? Catty? Kitty?"
Well, I supposed I had eaten my fair share of fish.
Unable to contain herself any longer, Nagi spoke up. "Perhaps a name that is more dignified, Your Majesty? A name that is worthy of the Dragon King of Black Sand Creek?"
The dragon blinked. "A dignified name. Uh…. Let's see…. Are there any good poems about Black Sand Creek?"
Poems, almost certainly. Good ones, most likely not. As I'd seen in Cassius' court, humans loved to attend garden-viewing parties where they would compose poems on the sunset over the mountains or the wind that rustled the willows or other such worn-out imagery. And then they'd recite them to one another. For hours.
I'd banned these parties on and off, mostly for the sake of my ears, but also because reform-minded scholars sometimes hid political protests in their verses. Inconsistent censorship kept them in a useful state of ferment.
Anyway, Flicker had mentioned a baron in a castle on the banks of Black Sand Creek, which meant that the local nobles would have generated their fair share of "poetry." I'd bet a lot of it centered on the moon's reflection in the river.
And indeed, the next sentence that came out of the dragon's mouth was: "Isn't there that one poem about the moon breaking through the clouds and reflecting on the river?" Clearing his throat and lifting his chin, he declaimed, "A strip of moonlight breaks through the clouds/And spreads across the surface of the water/Half the river is silver, the other half black/I love the fifteenth of the Harvest Moon."
Oh, this kept getting better. This wasn't just a bad poem – it was a bad plagiarism of one of Marcius' poems. The dragon, however, did not seem to be aware of that.
"Moonlight…clouds…. Got it! Mooncloud! Your name will be Mooncloud!"
Shockingly, that wasn't such a bad name. I bobbed my head before he could come up with something worse. I love it, Your Majesty.
"Mooncloud it is. Mooncloud the Talking Catfish. Nagi, make it a nametag and find a nice cage for it, will you?"
A cage? I recoiled, banging into his claws.
At my distress, the dragon brought me close to his face again. "Don't worry, little Mooncloud, it will be the nicest, prettiest, comfortable-est cage a fish could want. It will be so much better than living on your own in the wild. Here, you'll get as much food as you can eat – well, as long as you don't become overweight, because that's unhealthy – and you'll be safe from predators and fishermen. You'll like it here, won't you?" Without waiting for my response, he crooned, "Yes, you will."
I didn't.
Oh, it wasn't that I lacked for food or care or even entertainment. Delighted with his new pet, the dragon had his crab servants carry my cage everywhere he went. At night, he slept with it hanging from a stand by his bed. In the morning, he ate breakfast with it next to him on the table. While he sucked the spiritual essence from a bowl of seed pearls, I crunched through my own dish of plump water bugs. Afterwards, when he headed to the audience chamber, which apparently doubled as his study, the crabs set my cage on a little table next to his throne, so he could glance at me whenever he needed a break. And, of course, so he could show off this amazing, talking, unawakened fish to all his visitors. That was annoying, but once we got the obligatory oohing and aahing out of the way, I got to hear about Black Sand Creek politics, which was surprisingly dramatic. I didn't even mind being caged all the time, since as I grew, the crabs kept transferring me into bigger cages so I always had room to stretch my fins.
No, what I really couldn't stand was the way the dragon treated me as if I were an ignorant fox kit. Sometimes it reached truly humiliating proportions, such as the time the Black Sand Creek Pearl Farm's superintendent came to petition for relief from bandits.
"The duck demons are back," complained the freshwater pearl mussel spirit. "They keep diving down to dig out the mussels. We've confirmed that they're selling them to humans both for the pearls and as food. But every time the frog guards give chase, the ducks just flap across the border into Baron Claymouth's fief, and then we can't do anything!"
Donning a grave expression, the dragon intoned, "That is serious indeed, Nacre."
Coiled on his right, Nagi hissed. "This is an outrage! Your Majesty, we must act quickly and decisively. Shall I send for the captains?"
"Do so," ordered the dragon.
She waved her tail at a young crab messenger, who scuttled off down the tunnel.
By now, I'd learned that pearls played a critical role in the underwater economy. Not only did their essence provide food for water spirits, but, once drained, the larger pearls served as emblems of authority and the tiny ones as currency. That meant that the duck demons' actions were the equivalent of human bandits attacking gold mines. How would the dragon king deal with this situation? How would I deal with this situation? As I ran through options in my head, Captain Carpa arrived and made her bow.
The dragon frowned. "Where is Captain Carpio?" he asked the crab.
"Apologies, Your Majesty," she chirped, clicking her claws together. "I was unable to find him."
Straightening, Captain Carpa spoke up. "It is regrettable, Your Majesty, but my colleague is often difficult to locate when there are urgent matters at stake." Her tone insinuated that he spent his shifts frolicking on the surface or carousing in underwater pubs.
Nagi hissed again, and Captain Carpa's thick lips curved into a smug grin.
"Well," fretted the dragon. "Well, I suppose that can't be helped. Find him and tell him to come here at once," he ordered the crab. As it scurried off, he turned back to the carp. "Captain, the duck demons are robbing the pearl farm again. I thought I told you to double the guard. Why is it still happening?"
Hmm, yes, doubling the guard was a good first step. That's what I would do too, just for a few weeks. After that, I'd report to Cassius that our splendid show of force had driven off the bandits like the cowards they were, so now it was safe to decrease the guard. Paying them was so expensive, and we mustn't waste money, isn't that right, Imperial Treasurer…? The Imperial Treasurer would glare at me but swallow his counterarguments, Cassius would agree, we'd transfer the guards elsewhere, and then of course the bandits would return and we'd repeat the whole cycle. Fiscal uncertainty worked wonders for the economy.
Oh, wait. The goal here wasn't to destroy the Water Court. Right.
Captain Carpa was sweeping another bow. "Regrettably, recruitment has been down this moon. Perhaps if we offer additional inducements – a salary increase, for example – we might be able to make the position more attractive to young spirits."
Nagi reproved her, "That's what you said last moon too, when you requested extra funding. A request that we granted, may I remind you."
Captain Carpa waved her fin in a helpless gesture. "Alas, it appears that the inducements were insufficient."
I had my own suspicions about why that had been the case. Captain Carpa was exactly the sort of oily, corrupt creature that I used to employ.
Nagi was about to interrogate her further when loud, swooshing sounds from the tunnel interrupted. An agitated Captain Carpio burst into the audience chamber. Catching sight of his colleague, who looked as if she'd already been here for some time and was deeply involved in a very important conference, he blustered, "Your Majesty! I was escorting the courier down to the Eastern Sea. I came as soon as I heard!"
Him, I actually believed.
"Nacre informed us that the duck demons are robbing the pearl farm again," Nagi summarized for him. "Captain Carpa reports that she has had trouble with recruitment and hence cannot double the guard. What do you know of the matter?"
Captain Carpio spat a stream of bubbles at Captain Carpa. "Prime Minister, I've warned you over and over that Carpa is incompetent. Plus everyone and their unawakened cousins know that she embezzles."
"Says the bully who swaggers into pubs and expects free food and drink 'for his service'," she snorted. She even managed to make air quotes (water quotes?) with her fins.
"You – !" Captain Carpio flung himself at her, biting at her sides with his pointy teeth.
Whirling, she whacked him away with her tail, then lunged for his fins.
The dragon and Nagi didn't even look startled, although Nacre did burrow partway into the floor.
What kind of court was this? No matter how much Marcius and his allies had hated me, none of them would ever have punched me in the throne room. And I would never have bitten them either. Not in the throne room, anyway.
I found myself swimming around and around my cage in tight, agitated circles and forced myself to stop. How about mercenaries? I suggested.
No one heard. The dragon was rubbing his temples, Nagi was flicking her tongue in irritation, and each captain was trying to maim the other into retirement.
Thrusting my head through the bars, I yelled, How about hiring mercenaries!
A shocked silence fell over the audience chamber. The two carp broke apart, fins torn, teeth bared. Nacre stopped burrowing and poked the lip of his shell out of his hole. The dragon and Nagi gaped at me. Had these water spirits never heard of mercenaries?
Umm, you know, they're professional guards you can hire for money?
They kept staring.
Hmm, maybe it wasn't because they'd never heard of mercenaries. Maybe it was the opposite. Clearing my throat, I elaborated, It sounds like Black Sand Creek has a cash flow problem, but surely this expense is a good investment for preventing future raids. Even if the presence of mercenaries tends to cause other problems, I'd still say it's a reasonable stopgap measure, and I urge Your Majesty to – eek!
The dragon had swept up my cage. Cradling it in the crook of one foreleg, he stuck a claw through the bars and stroked my forehead. "Aren't you cute!" he cried. "Aren't you just the cutest, smartest, prettiest little catfish in the world!"
Uhhhh…. Did that mean he intended to implement my proposal?
He held up the cage so Nacre could get a good look at me. "Isn't she just the smartest?"
"Yes, Your Majesty," agreed the mussel obediently.
"Mercenaries are a terrible idea," Captain Carpio told the dragon without a glance in my direction. "They're overpriced to start with, and they always demand more and more pay. And then they raid you if you don't cave in."
Not always – I tried to defend my idea, but the dragon cut me off by thumping my cage back onto the table.
Ignoring me, he turned to Captain Carpa. "And you? What are your thoughts?"
She hesitated for so long that I thought she was genuinely considering it. At last, she squeezed out a reluctant, "I agree with my colleague."
Oh. She just didn't want to go on record as agreeing with her rival on anything.
Wait, Your Majesty, I think you should –
He talked right over me. "Nagi? Thoughts?"
I stuck my fins between the bars and flapped them, trying to catch her eye, but the snake didn't look at me either. "I agree with the captains. Mercenaries are too expensive and too risky. It would be more advisable to increase the recruitment budget for the next moon."
If they were going to funnel more money into Captain Carpa's metaphorical pockets anyway, then why not at least try to negotiate with a mercenary captain? It might be cheaper. And it definitely would be more effective. Your Majesty –
The dragon lifted his chin, letting the other spirits see his pearl. "Then it is decided. Thank you for bringing this matter to Our attention," he told Nacre. "We shall see to the better defense of Our pearl farm."
"Thank you, Your Majesty." Crawling out of his hole, the mussel galumphed out of the audience chamber on his one foot.
"Come up with a recruitment plan and present it to us tomorrow," Nagi ordered the captains, who glared at each other. "You are dismissed."
On the way out, Captain Carpio shoved ahead of Captain Carpa, who made a show of wincing and clapping a fin to her side.
As soon as the door closed behind them, I threw myself against the bars of my cage. Look, Your Majesty, I still think you should consider at least contacting a mercenary captain and getting a sense of their rates –
Sticking out a claw, the dragon tickled me under the chin. "Isn't she so smart?" he marveled to Nagi. "How did she get so smart?"
She puffed up with pride. "I am glad that my humble gift is so pleasing to Your Majesty."
The dragon scooped up the cage again and admired me through the bars. "So pretty too. Such a pretty catfish. Aren't you the prettiest little catfish in the world? Yes you are!"
I gave up. At least I was earning karma for all the happiness I was bringing him, right?
A/N 1: If anyone is wondering about the poem, it's a bad adaption of this one by Bai Juyi.
A/N 2: Thanks to my awesome Patreon backers, BananaBobert, Charlotte, Hookshyu, Voligne, and Anonymous! And thanks to everyone for reading!
- Location
- PA
...Piri's complaints about poetry made me wonder what she could come up with...Could she come up with something mocking my intellect and also gloating how I'm standing right next to a nine-tailed fox that could eat me? Maybe? Dunno if she'd have the patience to think about it long enough as opposed to threatening my funding or something (Assuming I'm there as one of those writers/poet types.)
As for Carpa and Carpio, wellp. They're exactly as useful as I guessed, which is useful as court jesters and little else!
Now, as far as Piri's thoughts on Mercenaries...? Eh, I guess? Kind of feel like she's assuming there actually ARE Mercenaries to hire, but IDK for sure. She seems better suited to breaking down structures of power then building them up, in terms of her knowledge and skills...
As for Carpa and Carpio, wellp. They're exactly as useful as I guessed, which is useful as court jesters and little else!
Now, as far as Piri's thoughts on Mercenaries...? Eh, I guess? Kind of feel like she's assuming there actually ARE Mercenaries to hire, but IDK for sure. She seems better suited to breaking down structures of power then building them up, in terms of her knowledge and skills...
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Yeah, I can't really see Piri having the patience to sit quietly and write poetry. She'd probably give up after a few words and threaten your funding or your life.
Every court needs a good jester, right?
Piri is very much better at breaking things than building them...but Flicker would say that the reincarnation system is designed to help her learn and improve!