“Wake up, we here.”
A rough three bangs on her door and Nathaira’s amber eyes snapped open. It was dark in her room, the only light coming from the tiny porthole in the wall that let a meager beam on sunlight in. She pulled back the thin, rough blanket a set a flurry of dust into air, swinging her legs around to stand in the tiny room. It was damp and dark, and her bed had been just a few crates pushed together, but it was more than she needed. Passage was all she wanted.
She squinted against the light as she climbed above deck, rustling up her thick, dreadlocked hair with her fingers and tasting the salty air with a flicker of her forked tongue. The deckhands, as always, looked on her with disgust and fear. Nathaira didn’t notice, she was too awestruck from what she saw ahead of her: the great pyramids of Samskaya, golden in the morning light.
It was grand, and it was terrible. The shapes cut intimidating silhouettes, perhaps because she knew the beings that lived among them. Naga were not known for their art, nor their architecture. They were known for savagery, hostility, and mercilessness. Even bearing an invitation from the so-called “scaled king,” Nathaira found herself feeling uneasy.
Not many ships were permitted passage to Nagai. Few even sought it, but for the brave there were a few avenues to wealth. The Naga, while primitive, dealt in valuable things. Slaves, gold, and the odd trinket or novelty that some noble in Alliria would find amusing on their dining table.
The dock was tense. Giant serpentine guards with polearms slithered aboard the moment the gangway was lowered. Crates and goods were delivered to the dock, which was similarly lined with guards, and the crew went no further. At first it seemed inhospitable, but Nathaira soon realized, peering past the shining blades and into the snakes beyond, that the guards were there to protect the crew from the citizens, and not the other way around.
“Stay close. Don’t speak unless spoken to.” The captain spoke from her side, guiding her down the walkway. She had explained her purpose to him, as much as he’d needed to know, and paid him well for privacy.
Nathaira felt naked. The eyes of the guards lingered on her questioningly. She was not human, but she was far from a true naga. Her skin was lightly scaled and her blood ran cold, but her eyes were far softer than the vipers who looked back at her, and she suspected her fangs would similarly pale in comparison.
The captain brought her to a large blue naga. He was not carrying a polearm like the others, but there was a massive curved sword at his side, and each one of his arms looked like it could squeeze the life from a man with barely a thought.
“Sinschal, my deepest gratitude for receiving my humble vessel once again,” the captain bowed deep, and pushed Nathaira hard on the back so that she would do the same. She stared at the naga’s tail from beneath her messy hair.
The naga did not answer, but continued to stare at the two of them, mostly at Nathaira. She was disappointed to note that the naga seemed to view her with the same confused revulsion as humans did. Always a monster.
The captain continued after it was clear he would get no reply. “This is a passenger. She…” He seemed uncertain how to continue beneath the glare that Sinschal gave him.
”I wass invited,” Nathaira continued for him, meeting the venomous gaze of the dockmaster.
He sighed, and that sigh turned into a hiss and the hiss into a cold rasping sound of… laughter. The guards at his sides curled their lips and whispered chuckles of their own. ”Invited?” his voice was the sound of scales rushing on reeds. ”By whom?” he moved forwards like water and circled Nathaira and the captain, his tail so long that by the time he reached the front of them again they were completely surrounded. ”Who would invite you?” his eyes surveyed her, ”What are you?” Contempt had entered his voice.
”Ixcuiname,” Nathaira blurted out, ”And the Scaled King. They… spoke to me in a dream.”
At this Sinschal reared back, elevating himself higher on his tail and looking both incredulous and incensed. ”How do you know thiss name?” he demanded. ”How does a… a slansharr speak of dreamss with kingss?”
Nathaira did not know what a slansharr was, but she understood its meaning from the way it was said. The guards nearest them had begun to move inwards, and Sinschal had rested a hand on his sword. The captain took a step back, but found himself trapped against the coiling blue tail. ”You lie, outsssider.”
Nathaira could feel her daggers against her sides beneath the twists of cloth that hid them. She was ready to use them, but had hoped it would not come to violence, at least not this soon. If she could kill this snake, could she kill his guards, too? Could she kill the snakes on the ship and escape? Her trip would be wasted, but she need not die...
”Enough, Sinschal,” the dockmaster rose and turned, and the guards parted to show a smaller naga, this one the color of coral and wearing a loose silk robe of sorts over their shoulders. ”She is expected.”
Sinchal looked back at Nathaira, and she could almost feel the heat off his eyes. He hissed with a short flare of his tongue in her face, and moved back. ”Get the cargo and get this ship out of my harbor!” he barked to the naga, who began hurrying along the crewmen.
The robed naga approached Nathaira and the captain slowly. ”My apologies. Sinschal is ever-vigilant for smugglers and stowaways. We do not get many outside visitors in Samskaya.” Nathaira did not answer. She was relieved, but had no idea how this newcomer knew about her. Ixcuiname must have told them, or maybe the King himself? Adrenaline still filled her, and even with the dockmaster’s retreat she was overwhelmed. She had thought, hoped, she might feel at home here, but it was more alien to her than anywhere. The naga were not her family, they hated her just as much as the Anirians did so far.
”Thank you for delivering our guest safely, Captain,” he passed a silk bag that jangled heavily as the captain took it. After a hard stare from the naga, the captain realized that his job was over.
“Ah, thank you, sir. I’ll just… help with the unloading.” The naga nodded.
The pair stood in silence for a time, each one scrutinizing the other. Nathaira did not fear this one, but she remained wary.
”Do you have belongings to gather?” they asked suddenly.
”No.”
”Good.” They turned, and without another word began to slither away from the docks. Nathaira followed quickly, not wanting to spend another moment on that dock.
For a long time neither of them spoke. Nathaira had drawn her hood up, but found this did little to deter the stares. She was, after all, the only one around with legs.
The city itself was impressive.. They passed through meat markets, or what appeared to be, and more than a few ornate and decorated buildings. Nothing could compare to the looming pyramids on the horizon, though, and the more they moved, the more it became clear that the grand pyramid was in fact her destination.
They passed through the ornate doors, passed the leering guards, and entered a grand and terrifying throne room.
“The Scaled King comes and goes as he pleases,” her guide intoned. “But we will wait here so he may make an appearance, if he so wishes.”
Nathaira nodded, unsure of what to say. The images of great serpents and bloodshed on the walls were… intriguing.
Tir'Coatl
A rough three bangs on her door and Nathaira’s amber eyes snapped open. It was dark in her room, the only light coming from the tiny porthole in the wall that let a meager beam on sunlight in. She pulled back the thin, rough blanket a set a flurry of dust into air, swinging her legs around to stand in the tiny room. It was damp and dark, and her bed had been just a few crates pushed together, but it was more than she needed. Passage was all she wanted.
She squinted against the light as she climbed above deck, rustling up her thick, dreadlocked hair with her fingers and tasting the salty air with a flicker of her forked tongue. The deckhands, as always, looked on her with disgust and fear. Nathaira didn’t notice, she was too awestruck from what she saw ahead of her: the great pyramids of Samskaya, golden in the morning light.
It was grand, and it was terrible. The shapes cut intimidating silhouettes, perhaps because she knew the beings that lived among them. Naga were not known for their art, nor their architecture. They were known for savagery, hostility, and mercilessness. Even bearing an invitation from the so-called “scaled king,” Nathaira found herself feeling uneasy.
Not many ships were permitted passage to Nagai. Few even sought it, but for the brave there were a few avenues to wealth. The Naga, while primitive, dealt in valuable things. Slaves, gold, and the odd trinket or novelty that some noble in Alliria would find amusing on their dining table.
The dock was tense. Giant serpentine guards with polearms slithered aboard the moment the gangway was lowered. Crates and goods were delivered to the dock, which was similarly lined with guards, and the crew went no further. At first it seemed inhospitable, but Nathaira soon realized, peering past the shining blades and into the snakes beyond, that the guards were there to protect the crew from the citizens, and not the other way around.
“Stay close. Don’t speak unless spoken to.” The captain spoke from her side, guiding her down the walkway. She had explained her purpose to him, as much as he’d needed to know, and paid him well for privacy.
Nathaira felt naked. The eyes of the guards lingered on her questioningly. She was not human, but she was far from a true naga. Her skin was lightly scaled and her blood ran cold, but her eyes were far softer than the vipers who looked back at her, and she suspected her fangs would similarly pale in comparison.
The captain brought her to a large blue naga. He was not carrying a polearm like the others, but there was a massive curved sword at his side, and each one of his arms looked like it could squeeze the life from a man with barely a thought.
“Sinschal, my deepest gratitude for receiving my humble vessel once again,” the captain bowed deep, and pushed Nathaira hard on the back so that she would do the same. She stared at the naga’s tail from beneath her messy hair.
The naga did not answer, but continued to stare at the two of them, mostly at Nathaira. She was disappointed to note that the naga seemed to view her with the same confused revulsion as humans did. Always a monster.
The captain continued after it was clear he would get no reply. “This is a passenger. She…” He seemed uncertain how to continue beneath the glare that Sinschal gave him.
”I wass invited,” Nathaira continued for him, meeting the venomous gaze of the dockmaster.
He sighed, and that sigh turned into a hiss and the hiss into a cold rasping sound of… laughter. The guards at his sides curled their lips and whispered chuckles of their own. ”Invited?” his voice was the sound of scales rushing on reeds. ”By whom?” he moved forwards like water and circled Nathaira and the captain, his tail so long that by the time he reached the front of them again they were completely surrounded. ”Who would invite you?” his eyes surveyed her, ”What are you?” Contempt had entered his voice.
”Ixcuiname,” Nathaira blurted out, ”And the Scaled King. They… spoke to me in a dream.”
At this Sinschal reared back, elevating himself higher on his tail and looking both incredulous and incensed. ”How do you know thiss name?” he demanded. ”How does a… a slansharr speak of dreamss with kingss?”
Nathaira did not know what a slansharr was, but she understood its meaning from the way it was said. The guards nearest them had begun to move inwards, and Sinschal had rested a hand on his sword. The captain took a step back, but found himself trapped against the coiling blue tail. ”You lie, outsssider.”
Nathaira could feel her daggers against her sides beneath the twists of cloth that hid them. She was ready to use them, but had hoped it would not come to violence, at least not this soon. If she could kill this snake, could she kill his guards, too? Could she kill the snakes on the ship and escape? Her trip would be wasted, but she need not die...
”Enough, Sinschal,” the dockmaster rose and turned, and the guards parted to show a smaller naga, this one the color of coral and wearing a loose silk robe of sorts over their shoulders. ”She is expected.”
Sinchal looked back at Nathaira, and she could almost feel the heat off his eyes. He hissed with a short flare of his tongue in her face, and moved back. ”Get the cargo and get this ship out of my harbor!” he barked to the naga, who began hurrying along the crewmen.
The robed naga approached Nathaira and the captain slowly. ”My apologies. Sinschal is ever-vigilant for smugglers and stowaways. We do not get many outside visitors in Samskaya.” Nathaira did not answer. She was relieved, but had no idea how this newcomer knew about her. Ixcuiname must have told them, or maybe the King himself? Adrenaline still filled her, and even with the dockmaster’s retreat she was overwhelmed. She had thought, hoped, she might feel at home here, but it was more alien to her than anywhere. The naga were not her family, they hated her just as much as the Anirians did so far.
”Thank you for delivering our guest safely, Captain,” he passed a silk bag that jangled heavily as the captain took it. After a hard stare from the naga, the captain realized that his job was over.
“Ah, thank you, sir. I’ll just… help with the unloading.” The naga nodded.
The pair stood in silence for a time, each one scrutinizing the other. Nathaira did not fear this one, but she remained wary.
”Do you have belongings to gather?” they asked suddenly.
”No.”
”Good.” They turned, and without another word began to slither away from the docks. Nathaira followed quickly, not wanting to spend another moment on that dock.
For a long time neither of them spoke. Nathaira had drawn her hood up, but found this did little to deter the stares. She was, after all, the only one around with legs.
The city itself was impressive.. They passed through meat markets, or what appeared to be, and more than a few ornate and decorated buildings. Nothing could compare to the looming pyramids on the horizon, though, and the more they moved, the more it became clear that the grand pyramid was in fact her destination.
They passed through the ornate doors, passed the leering guards, and entered a grand and terrifying throne room.
“The Scaled King comes and goes as he pleases,” her guide intoned. “But we will wait here so he may make an appearance, if he so wishes.”
Nathaira nodded, unsure of what to say. The images of great serpents and bloodshed on the walls were… intriguing.
Tir'Coatl
