Chapter 2 - Gift

It took May a single leap to reach the bastard, her reformed legs making her tall and lithe like a panther with fragments of porcelain covering her body 一 the dress she wore, that her master had given her, was only rags at her feet 一 except for her joints, that were now made of black sinew and nothing else beneath.

No bones, no blood, no veins and arteries to slice. Only porcelain and wet muscle. Of that she was certain.

By the time she had reached George, arms and legs open wide like a starfish, she coiled around the man, crossing her ankles around his waist and shoving her sharp claws into his shoulders for a better grip.

But it wasn’t enough, the lack of skill in combat showing itself, for now her hands were deep into his skin and lodged there. For only a moment she stared into the man’s eyes, the terror May saw sparking a feeling in her chest she thought was reserved for the praises Hector had once given her when finishing a successful playtime.

Assured that what she’s doing was right 一 for what bad thing would be pleasurable? 一 May chose viciousness over finesse in her attacks and opened her mouth wide, wider than should be possible as the flesh stretched, causing the porcelain covering her chin to almost hit the base of her neck, May bit the man.

The scream that tore through George’s throat was a wailing May would remember forever, loaded with terror and instinctual knowledge that he wouldn’t live to see the sunrise; and that made a part of her purr in contentment. Still, the pain he must’ve felt when her fangs closed on his jaw cleared his mind enough to fight back.

Punch after punch hit May’s chest, but they found no purchase against the rubbery flesh. With every jet of blood from the artery she must have nicked with her fangs 一 May was fairly certain humans had the same veins on their necks as the rats and other animals she killed, quite the fragile anatomy in her opinion 一 George got weaker and weaker, his hands no longer having the strength to remain clenched, making him retort to uncoordinated slaps as a form of attack.

That soon stopped too, as George became too lightheaded to hold his and May’s weight, making the man fall on his knees and end up lying down on top of her. May had to maneuver herself from below the bleeding man, unhooking her ankles from around his waist and pulling her claws from his shoulders with a wet plop, certain that he was no longer a threat to Hect一

To his daughter.

Rest. Change. Hide. The voices chided on her mind, unsolicited advice that grounded her after the violence ensued. It cleared her mind long enough to ignore them as she stood up, long arms making her torso lean forward. She had to check on the girl first, make sure she was all right.

The cracking sound she heard before didn’t mean much, right? She heard the stories men told in the taverns of wars and battles and carnage, surely a punch isn’t enough to really harm a human.

The girl remained where she had hit the wall first, head against the wall with the rest of her body lying on the dirty floor. May could see the outfit on her, a cream-colored blouse and a pair of darker pants. The cuffs of her shirt had sunflowers stitched on them in an amateurish display of embroidery. It looked incredible on her.

Her face was bruised from the hit, but May could still see the beauty in her expressions. Skin the color of chestnuts, a light brown that was greatly complemented by her dark hair, braided behind her head. Pale lips were turned down as if she were tired and simply decided to sleep a little.

But the stillness was too much. No matter how much May willed the girl to move or wished for her chest to rise and fall like every other human.

A cautious hand tried to cup one of the girl’s cheeks, but the sharp claws she had used to kill her assailant left a cut on the skin. May quickly retracted her hand, too scared of harming the girl further.

The blood from the cut, however, looked wrong to her. From the way it had flowed out of George, it should have been more… intense. Instead, it dripped slowly, like breakfast syrup.

May stared and thought it looked similar to when the butchers left pigs upside-down to bleed.

Settling her focus on the girl, the nightmarish form of May stood in front of the child waiting for anything. A breath, a word, a movement. But nothing came.

May spent so long silently willing the girl to live 一 unsure of what to do 一 that she didn’t even realize the whispers were silent as well. They seemed to be waiting for her to reach a decision, or perhaps, to initiate a dialogue with them. To make the question she dreaded. However, she had never initiated contact, they always were the intrusive ones.

Still, if there was ever a moment that she needed their guidance, it was now. And so, May raised her head to the night sky, and with eyes lost in the moonless darkness, she formed whatever connection tied her to the voices on her own.

The exertion was enough to make May feel her mind shifting, taking her consciousness to somewhere unknown. It made her stomach rebel for a while 一 the shifting guiding her for a moment through the darkness of her mind and beyond 一 until it settled in a place that seemed to be built with night itself.

Land, sky and horizon lost meaning in this new location. All there was, was darkness, her and the constant feeling of something else.

It was a weight that permeated the place, a presence that May had never felt before and still felt familiar to her.

“Are you-” May called to the void, only to be interrupted by the same voices that followed her everywhere.

Here? Always. They answered in a dissonant choir.

May was somewhat reassured at the answer. The whispers were annoying, but they were always useful. When they weren’t speaking in riddles, of course.

Mustering courage to make the question she needed, she stared at the beyond again. “Is the girl… lost?”

Lost. Dead. Gone. Far.

“Is there anything I can do?”

Yes. No. They mumbled for a while, discussing what May assumed was the correct way to answer her question.

Maybe. Costly. Different. Unknown.

“How then? How can I save her?!” May asked, black flesh and porcelain displaying her distress.

No. Lost. The voices infatuated every word, carrying it with an eldritch meaning that went beyond her simple mind, but made May sure that she wouldn’t save the girl, at least not in the way that mattered.

Opportunity. Change. Claim. Gift.

The last word made May pause, the power and knowledge behind it washing over her mind, leaving her consciousness aching in a way she had never felt before.

Still, May persevered in her questions, memories from the conversation she had heard at the tavern early on resurfacing. “You want me to claim a Gift? Like Hector’s?”

Claim. Take. Awaken. Yours. Discover. Truth.

“How would that help?!” May said, tired and in pain.

Possibility. Gamble.

May heard that and understood much. The result of awakening her Gift 一 whatever it was 一 was uncertain, probably useless as a solution, and incapable of helping the girl return. Still, she couldn’t help but want to risk it. After all, If there was a chance to get something, wouldn’t it be worth it? If Hector already had his Gift, wouldn’t reaching for her own make them closer? She was certain that he wouldn’t abandon her, but May still wanted to be useful. And if it only took talking to the voices beyond, it was a small price to pay.

“All right,” May said, fingers clenching. “What do I do?”

Simple. We/I. Assistance. You. Survival.

Hearing the answer, May could swear that for a moment, there was some mirth in the final words. But before she could question the voices, darkness swallowed her whole.

***

When the darkness vanished, May could no longer feel the presence the whispers carried. Instead, she was alert as her mind adjusted to the brightness of wherever she was.

It didn’t take long for her blindness to recede, and what she saw left her even more confused. May seemed to be sitting at a tiny chair, in front of an also tiny table, both made of reddish and well-polished wood.

On top of the table, a set of porcelain teacups, saucers and plates were on display, the painting of different flowers in each piece making for an impressive show of craftsmanship. The tableware was complemented by sets of tiny forks, knives and spoons, all made of silver and decorated with filigrees that resembled vines.

On the other side of where she sat, May watched blond curls sway left and right as Hector set the table, her mind freezing at the sight and the understanding that she was back at the palace.

Hector’s tiny arms carried a basket of fake grapes and apples with a fake kettle on top. Putting it on the table, May saw him smile silently while she stared for as long as she could, committing every movement of his to memory.

When Hector seemed satisfied enough with the setting, his emerald eyes darted to her and cranked up with a smile, the thin lines around them showing up with his expression. It left May ecstatic at the vision, not even minding when her Little Prince came over to her and adjusted her body on the chair.

Hands over her lap, posture straight and porcelain head held high May felt perfectly at home. Except for a nagging sensation of wrongness. It wasn’t until Hector sat across from her that she realized her body didn’t respond to her thoughts. She was a doll again.

“I don’t think Mama liked the flower that much,” Hector said across from her, the slight smile on his face straining for a second. “She made that weird face again.”

That took May out of her thoughts, focusing now on the boy in front of her. It felt… right to give all her attention to him.

“Grace even helped me choose it from the garden,” Hector mumbled in a low voice, enough to make May almost unable to hear him.

Frustration showed its ugly head inside her chest. The desire to say something to Hector 一 to comfort him 一 and being unable makes her feel hollow. It is her job to serve, to ensure his well-being and lessen every burden he carried, but this cursed mouth just. Did. Not. Move!

Hector still talked, unaware of her problem. “Oh, I heard Mr. Zizos saying a priestess is coming.”

His hand diverted to the basket, diving deep between the fake fruits and bringing what seemed to be a wrapped sandwich from the bottom, causing memories to spark in May’s mind like they usually do when related to her time before.

A maid comes to bring Hector snacks. She announces she had hidden something and lets the Prince search for it. She never repeated the same hidden place or the snack.

A year later she hid him when they came.

The new information made May lose herself for the time of a blink before she could refocus, now certain that wherever she was, it had better access to her memories than she did.

“Do you think they are that dangerous?” Hector said, taking a small enough bite that no crumbs fell. “Papa says we shouldn’t get too involved with them, and Mr. Zizos agrees. He said…”

His voice grew deeper in an attempt to imitate his tutor, even petting a fake beard. “Our queendom chose Creation over the Gods.”

As he finished the imitation with a laugh, May saw his young face distort a little, the sight of him playing with an air beard and his laughter almost colliding 一 like two images, one over the other 一 and just now May realized she couldn’t tell what age he was. Hector looked young, but the vision changed time and time again every time she focused, going from the day he found her to the one where they were separated when he was 10.

Only his green eyes remained still.

“I don’t really get why you would welcome someone you fear into your home.” He took another bite, but this time the bread fell entirely through his jaw, staining his white shirt with sauce and remnants of lettuce. No meat.

May watched this and thought of the voices. Maybe this was their assistance, making sure she didn’t get too lost in the vision that she would be unable to return. Still, that was but a passing thought soon eclipsed by the frustration of paralysis.

Hector continued talking through different topics all the while, going from “How Grace tried to teach him the spear, but he wasn’t strong enough to even lift it” or “Mr. Zizos started new lessons about actual sorcery, but his talent seemed to not be that high”. In the end, May was certain this version of Hector could never be real.

The boy in front of her talked like him, acted like him, looked like him, but her Master was never flawed. How could his talent in anything be less than prodigious? How could his manners be anything less than perfect?

No, this was wrong. She knew Hector. May had lived with him for four years. He was sunshine and laughter and tenderness, none of this self-criticizing bullshit. And definitely not weak!

But in her locked state, a sliver of doubt grew. Not from within, for she was unworthy of doubting her master, but from somewhere else. A whisper that grew like thorny vines around her heart. Hector was perfect now, but what if he… what if he failed one day? What would she do?

Tuning out the boy, whose grin she never noticed, May delved back into her mind and kept thinking.

Even if he failed… then it was not her who should judge him, right? It’s just not something a servant would do. And that’s what she was. Maybe that’s her truth. Service.

The word resonated in part inside the porcelain that made her, but May could feel in her chest that it was still… hollow. It was a word that could define her, but that was when she hadn’t experienced the world. She wanted to stay with Hector, but not always be under him.

May looked at the table and how they sat in equal standing, chairs of the same height, the memory of him talking to her in such a relaxed stance guiding her through it until she understood. She didn’t want to be a servant forever, but a companion. Someone who had their voice heard and could stand beside, not behind.

Wasn’t that why she was trying so hard to grow? Learning how to read, Awakening her Gift, spending days studying the others around town. It was all so that she could one day return to the palace and be valuable, be wanted.

A moment passed after the thought went through her consciousness and May could feel her grip on the word loosening. It was not her Truth 一 the word now ringing with more meaning than before. It didn’t resonate with… something inside her in the way that it should.

The weirdness of knowing these things almost instinctively made her guts twist a little, but May ignored it to the best of her ability. It wasn’t the time to question that, and if the knowledge was going to keep helping her like now, then she would be thankful for it. And that was that.

She returned to the conversation, asking herself what her Truth would be when the door of Henry’s bedroom blasted open. She could see his small body fly from the impact, a smile turning into a scream as the pain settled in when he hit the wall. The force behind being great enough to blow the wall around the entrance and cause a small cloud of dust and debris to rise.

Entering the room were two lions made of silver, their fur shiny as it refracted the light from the crystals illuminating the room. Their bodies were as tall as a man, their fangs ivory white as the creatures snarled and growled, a deep sound that shook May’s core and made her more scared than she would ever admit.

They sauntered in with unhurried steps, their claws tinkling as they hit the stone floor. The left one raised their head and smelled the air, eyes suddenly focusing on Hector’s bleeding form at the corner.

May, now paralyzed on the floor after being hit by the wave of force, watched the predators move towards her liege and despaired. Her frozen body did not allow a single movement out of her.

Mind going as fast as she could to find a solution, every step they took made her heart clench. To the voices beyond, she screamed to make them stop, to take her out, to help him. But nothing changed.

So at the next tinkling of claws hitting stone, she reigned her despair with a force of will unknown to her. Hector needed her, and she could help.

She could save him.

Choosing to believe her Gift would be the best bet she could make, as the voices remained silent, May tried to remember the small feeling of resonance that came with Service.

If her truth wasn’t to serve then was it to Attack, to let no enemy ever get close to her liege? No resonance.

Then was it Destruction, to eliminate threats so thoroughly they could never rise again? No resonance and another step of the lions.

C’mon, just give me something! She screamed at the void of her head, but nothing answered.

May stared at the scene in front of her and saw the lions approaching, silver tongue licking their fangs. If her truth didn’t lie in offense then she had to try the other side.

Is it Salvation, to help others in their time of need? A little resonance sparked inside her, and May could feel her Truth closer.

Maybe Assistance, to help others constantly? The same amount of resonance and the beasts were now almost on top of Hector.

Please, just tell me already! I will do anything I swear. May promised the void, kneeling at the inky blackness, porcelain face cracked to reveal dark tears flowing from her eyes. But silence reigned again. I know you’re there! Please, please don’t let him be hurt!!

The resonance surprised with a strike that resembled a gust of air, sending her back to her physical body to watch her liege get hunted. Now, however, a little hope was held in her heart.

Possible things that could resonate with the sentence sprung into her mind until she settled.

Her Truth is Defense. The word resonated but wasn’t quite there yet. Frustrated, May persevered.

It’s Protection? Again, lacking.

Guarding? Not quite.

The lions now had Hector pinned under them, sharp claws making his skinny arms bleed on the floor and fangs aligned with his throat. The sight of blood was enough to send May into overdrive.

Shield? No. Resistance? Also no. Maybe Safety? No resonan-

The squelching sound of ripping meat made her mind silent, for she could see one of the lions biting into Hector’s neck, blood pooling and muscle stretching as it shook his head. May froze.

This… this is WRONG! NO, PLEASE HECTOR! STOP IT, PLEASE, STOP THIS! Terror gripped her as she saw the lion take another bite, now deeper. STOP THIS! THIS ISN’T SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN! WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT?

NO, NO NO NO NO NO! THIS SHOULD HAVE NEVER HAPPENED, THEY SHOULD HAVE NEVER BEEN ABLE TO GET CLOSE TO HIM! Resonance flowed in her, but fear had turned into all-consuming wrath that made May ignore the power of her words.

THEY SHOULD HAVE NEVER COME! WHERE ARE THE GUARDS? THE MAGES? WHY IS NO ONE HERE? And with that last question, it dawned on her. An otherworldly sense of understanding that quenched her burning hatred. No one would ever come to help. It was her job to do it, to protect him, to never let anything even get close to Hector. A job that today, she failed.

She was the one supposed to make sure everything that involved him happened perfectly. No risks, no bad consequences, only unending success. She would bear the weight of it all, the sins and the mistakes of others around Hector.

May would fix things, set them right, and make everything he dreams of become true.

Make herself perfect.

Make everything perfect.

And for that to happen…

May had to be in Control.

The world shattered.