“Remember, I cannot marry the Queen. I have to fulfill a prophecy,” I muttered to Old Fang as the Queen and her entourage made their way up from the beach. It seemed like half the village was there. No pressure.

  Certainly not when it came to telling a Queen ‘no.’

  Worse. ‘I take it back.’ With an audience. I was essentially doing that. My chest heaved with a deep breath, and I sat up straight again. Calm was key. She could probably taste fear. Reptiles did that.

  … Was that racist? Fuck.

  I stood up when she breezed in, having handed off a net with a large catch of sea creatures still flopping, tangled within the press of woven ropes. She glided to me, her arms out for an embrace, her cold, still wet body snuggling up against my armor. Thank Tan’Fukshan I wore that. A burbling trill echoed in her throat as she looked up at me.

  She was pretty, in a way. And sweet. This body of mine was mildly interested, much as it had been for Ashwynn. Never in a million years would I have imagined this moment, or any conflict I might have felt in the face of it. The System was to blame for my identity crisis.

  Nope.

  My laser focus wouldn’t be deterred, not even for the charms of district lords. My HUD displayed her HP, and it was a warning, in a way. Let her down easy.

  I patted her very muscular back and flinched a grin, dipping my head in a polite half-bow. I gestured to Old Fang, and introduced him in orcish. “This is my grandfather,

  Old Fang.”

  Old Fang wiped his mouth with the ragged sleeve of his robe and squinted at Queen Hythsaa.

  “This her? I would,” Old Fang said with a crooked, broke-toothed grin.

  “Then you can,” I smiled a warning, keeping my tone pleasant. “After you tell her I can’t.”

  With a huff, Old Fang got to his feet, dragging his cane up with him. He jabbed me with it and shook his head. Hythsaa’s head tilted, and she glanced from him to me, confused. Old Fang leaned his cane on his hip and held his arms in a bix ‘X’ in front of him.

  He yelled, next, as if a language barrier could be crossed by volume alone.

  “HE CAN’T MARRY YOU! HE HAS VASH’ORA!”

  “Vassh—orrra?” Hythsaa tried, then glanced around at the others. To the last, reptilian faces mirrored confusion. One rubbed its chin and gurgled a few words. It pointed at me, but low. At my groin.

  “There’s nothing wrong with that,” I snapped, indignant.

  Old Fang grinned like a fiend and nodded, making the X shape with his arms again. “HE HAS THE CLAP!”

  “Old man,” I murmured, scowling at him.

  He turned around to face me and jabbed my chest with his cane. “You wanted to get out of this. Looks like this’ll do.”

  My lip curled at him. And yet, he was right. Venereal disease it would be, then. Though some of that stuff didn’t cross species—what the hell was I thinking? I threw up my hands and rubbed my forehead.

  “HE’S DYING! WE ARE VERY SAD. VASH’ORA WILL KILL HIM ONE DAY!” Old Fang yelled and even had the audacity to look sad while he patted my arm. As if he cared. Asshole. He just torched my reputation in the district. It’s not like I was trying to get with anyone, but… Damn.

  Queen Hythsaa covered her mouth with her hands, shaking her head. Probably imagining me slutting around Convergent City, collecting diseases like trading cards. Fuck my life.

  Without words to express my apology, I put my hands together in her direction. I bowed deeply, hair falling around my face to hide the burning sensation in my cheeks. I watched her long, clawed feet stagger back a step, then turn and rush out the door. The others pivoted to watch her, turning away from me.

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  A strange mix of feelings overflowed, relief and sadness braided together. I was sorry. Sorry to have hurt her. Probably the only way I could possibly have done her any harm. Her heart. Also glad as hell she didn’t kill me. I had to be more careful next time. No more smiling and nodding as a habitual response.

  “I probably just ruined her Tidesong,” I murmured, standing up straight. To Old Fang, I said, “Let’s go.”

  He held it in until we were back on the path toward the mountain, at which point he started cackling like a madman. He stumbled and leaned on his cane, folding over it with laughter. “Dathai got the c-c-lap! Heeheehaww!”

  “Shut up. You sound like a demented donkey,” I grumbled, stalking up the path, fists clenched.

  Maybe in a year I’d find this funny.

  I reached out to the team in party chat and let them know Voj’Kasak had been able to return me to single status and I was not staying in Shardshore for Tidesong. I did not share the details. The only questions I did answer was about how Queen Hythsaa took it.

  Not well. Not staying for Tidesong.

  When Old Fang lagged behind, I stopped to carry him. He was still chuckling randomly as I hiked the mountain pass, this time on the lookout for nature’s—the System’s—hazards. The glittering waters of Shardshore vanished when I rounded a bend, along with a broken promise accidentally made and a heart that I hoped would heal soon. I checked my rep. No longer Respected, but not hated. Better than bad.

  Naturally, when we got back to Fist’s Home, the old man hobbled in and dramatically told the story. Alga roared with laughter. Tears of mirth trickled down her cheeks.

  I left them to it and went to find Greelanch.

  I traded her a new knife for blood to feed Loogie. In the shade of a baobab, I sat as the little blue sun eased down towards the horizon and drew Looogie out of inventory. I hadn’t taken it out to play in the morning, since I had the long hike to Shardshore, and as it rolled in the dust, I counted the days.

  If the lore was correct, and the System was as metered as I imagined, Loogie would make itself a cocoon the next day and sleep. I watched the furry little caterpillar scrabble in the dirt with its tiny nubbins, its little turtlish face dusty enough to draw out a squeaky sneeze.

  “What will you be when you emerge, little guy?” I asked, tickling under its chin with the tip of my finger.

  One day, the fury of thunder. Wind Chaser.

  I had a lot in my imagination, but no one could tell me anything more. I looked out over the savannah where grasses bent in the wind, beckoning to the fake horizon. The city wall was real. Invisible.

  One day, I’d find a way out. My old intentions rose, stirring my blood. Break the System. Force it to take us all back. Never accept the platitude of false life it had given.

  I pulled up my aspect screen and stared at my stats.

  I’d hit Tier 3, Level 9 Berserkr. I had a +1 to DAM from [Battle Rage] when engaging. That was a prerequisite for [Dauntless Rage], which gave me a buff against CCs and gave me a further 10% increase to damage output. When I hit level 9, I got [Fury Guard] that served me up a nice heling of +25 to strength. Seemed my Photosynthetic healing topped out at a 10% increase, but I felt pretty near invincible—until I thought about Urda, who casually punched me right in the soul.

  My armor buff hadn’t meant much to her.

  Speed, agility: that’s where I had to spend vitality points next. My class juiced me up with some great abilities, mostly in strength and attacks but I had a lot left to build.

  Loogie crawled up my leg and sat on my knee, rising up to wobble on its back legs. I’d been staring at my HUD when I saw the little worm in the background. I refocused, closing the aspect screen. I bent closer, holding my hands around it, so if it tumbled, I’d catch it.

  “Whatcha doin’ lil guy?”

  Loogie eeped and yawned, its teensy teeth glittering in the late afternoon sun. I nodded. “Yeah, my guess is you’re going for a long sleep pretty soon.”

  I frowned. There’d be no feeding it or playing with it for a while. Stupid to feel sad about it. Loogie wouldn’t sleep in its cocoon forever. I slowly cupped my hands around it. It crawled onto my arm, slipping between my palms, and slinkied up along my shoulder to hide in my hair. I could feel it chewing, tugging, twisting around to wind itself up in the thick strands. Still playing.

  The sun eased lower. Weariness pulled at me. It had been a long day. I got up and went back to Fist’s Home, where Alga served up a dish as soon as I walked in the door. Her calm demeanor was back to usual, until I sat down. Then she was cracking a grin in my direction, going about her work, glancing at me and chuckling to herself. I bore it with my usual flat stoicism. This too, would pass. Eventually.

  When I reached around to find Loogie at bedtime, I didn’t find a little furry critter. Instead, I discovered a hard knot in the hair at my nape. A jolt of panic hit, and then simmered down into mild annoyance. Yeah. It spun itself a cocoon, alright. Out of my damn hair.

  With a sigh of acceptance, I tromped down the stairs.

  “Alga,” I called as I pushed through the flap of lizard skin, “Can you look at this?”

  -ARCHIVE-