Brightest Gold

Chapter 1-2

The light only I could see surfaced in other objects and people. Often ring fingers sparkled in my eyes, other times a locket or a handkerchief. Flowers, stones, scraps of parchment. I took what could be missed and soon I had pockets full of glowing trinkets.

It became a game; watching the humans for the telltale signs. Stolen glances, flushed cheeks. Shy smiles and the ache of longing haunting their steps. The glow would surface and grow and grow. I was hungry for it. I went hungry for it. My true form was large enough that rats would not sate my hunger, but still I lingered in settlements, leaving their animals untouched. Until it was time to leave with my new trophy, that is.

My collection was a jumble of jars and pouches. Small items in even smaller containers. Love notes carelessly left on a shelf, smooth stones kept under a pillow. The rings were difficult to obtain. Most wore their bands through the day and night. But they shone to regular eyes with metal and gems, and gleamed like fairy lights in mine. My desire ate at me.

The easiest way to obtain the glowing favors was stealing. Another way was through deception, as I could shift into one of the lovers’ forms. This way tarnished the light, I learned. Humans were surprisingly insightful towards those they held affection for. They could tell I was not quite right and the item would dim with their suspicions. Disappointment colored the tokens a sickly hue. I quit this technique after a handful of ugly trinkets made their way into my collection.

My favorite method was difficult to perform, but satisfying to a fault. I was a little in love with all humans, and infatuated with their shimmering emotions. It would bathe me for days, weeks at a time, distracting me from the empty rumbling of my belly. I’d play to their emotions until a brilliant keepsake was bequeathed upon me of their own free will.

The first freely given gift is one of my favorites. I had been snacking on a pair of serpopards when he rode by on a jet black mare. With his waves of raven hair, black eyes, and rich chestnut skin, my interest sparked instantly. Finishing my meal, I slunk after him to an oasis city rich in trade.

Wearing Kiera’s visage, I followed the man to a manor. I no longer sported the rogue claw or horn. I had perfected transforming into humans after years of practice. His name was Fadil, I learned, and he was the fourth son of a wealthy nobleman. Unlike his older brothers, who spent their time squabbling over land and preening before their father, Fadil spent his time riding his horse through the desert, listening to the tales bards spun, and practicing swordsmanship with the guards.

Fadil was beautiful to me. His face was so full of yearning, it made me fluttery just thinking about how any tokens he gave out would be brighter than any I’d seen before. He was cordial with me as Kiera, but no light sparked. Simmering lights popped when he fought with certain guardsmen, though. It was curious, so curious how particular humans could be.

Rather than use my true name, Jorrah, I adopted the name Chisisi. Using creative liberty, I combined and complemented the unique features of Fadil’s favored guardsmen. All I had to do was learn how to use a sword so I could spar with Fadil. I approached the guards’ training area, greeting them as I had seen Fadil do a dozen times before.

“Who’s this slip?” one man said. He leaned on the hilt of his longsword, the tip digging into the packed dirt.

“I am Chisisi,” I said, bowing.

Another guard grabbed my chin and forced me up. His lip curled. “This is an area for men,” he said, spitting on the ground beside me.

The other man pinched my arm. His fingers didn’t catch much; this guise was lean and lithe. “He’s not soft, at least.”

The guard holding my chin sneered. “I don’t like the look of him. Looks like one of them dancers.”

“I don’t know how to dance,” I said. I hoped this was a useful tidbit of information. I did enjoy watching humans dance, however. “But I’d like to learn how to swordfight.”

“I’m sure you would,” the man said, releasing my chin.

“Sekani…” the other guard said, a wary look in his eyes.

“Well?” Sekani said. “Pick a sword, twig.”

I looked from Sekani to the other guard, wondering what it was the unnamed man was trying to convey without words. “Chisisi,” I said, picking a wooden practice sword with a nice heft. It had a center of lead, I saw. “My name is not twig.”

Sekani laughed, drawing his sword. I eyed the naked blade, understanding now why the other guard looked uneasy. Sekani was trying to scare me off without teaching me how to swordfight. Indignant, I raised the hunk of wood in my hands.

With a forceful thwack, Sekani hit the practice sword from my grasp. Scowling, I picked it back up and rounded on him. I had to jump back to avoid another swipe. “Knock this sword to the ground and we’ll teach you swordcraft,” Sekani said.

I lunged and earned a knee to the stomach. Coughing, I hopped back, bent double. “You can always give up, twig.”

Frustration welled up in my gut. If I was in my true form, I’d roast him and devour the charred remains. I had half the mind to do so, too. I swung the practice sword at him, only to be parried back several steps. “Is that the best you got?” Sekani asked.

I charged him, fury flaring in my stomach. White linen flashed by and Sekani was swept from his feet. Landing on his rump, Sekani glowered at the man standing over him. I sucked in a breath; before me was Fadil. He had knocked Sekani down with a practice sword.

“Is this any way to treat a newcomer?” Fadil asked. “Why didn’t you stop him, Kaden?”

The first guard, Kaden, fumbled with the ties on his sandals. “She doesn’t like me to get bruised,” he mumbled.

Sekani picked himself up, wiping dirt from his seat. “His girl wants to keep him pretty,” he said. “Are you going to introduce her?” Sekani nodded towards the gate, where a woman waited. She was pale like the peoples of the south, with piercing black eyes and a veil protecting her skin from the sun’s harsh rays. I could tell at a glance that she didn’t care about Kaden, but he hummed with brightness.

Sekani and Kaden began bickering, and Fadil turned to me, a hand outstretched. I took it, realizing in retrospect he was probably expecting me to hand over my practice sword. Fadil’s gaze wandered to our hands, then back up to my face. I dropped his hand. “Hi. Thanks,” I said, feeling warm under the light burning in Fadil.

“My name’s Fadil,” he said, voice soft.