Heart of the Resonant- the Soldier's Tale

by B. C. Handler

  The snake-woman tossed the shaft away, the metal arrowhead pinging as it bounced off the stone floor. Turning her eyes to my leg, she summoned a deep breath and coiled the serpent half under herself. She took my leg and carefully propped it onto her… lap? Stomach? She rested my leg on her coils.

  My pants leg had been cut away. After inspecting and prodding the arrow still lodged in the back of my calf, the snake-woman said something to Meriel, who gulped audibly and gave me a somber look. She said something to the person behind me, and then hands settled on my shoulders. The elf sat next to me and took a firm hold of my hand. Smiling, and her eyes never leaving mine, she said something quickly.

  The snake-women waiting on either side swept in and braced my leg in place, and the person waiting behind me got me in a headlock.

  Oh, fuck.

  The raven-haired woman propping my leg up seized the shaft, and began driving it deeper. Roaring, I managed to lift my butt off of whatever bench I was sitting on, then the person behind wrapped me up tighter. The snake-women bounding me grunted in effort and really worked their muscles, locking me in place. With nothing left to do, I crushed Meriel’s hand and watched my tormentor drive the shift deeper, the sharpened broadhead parting and slicing flesh. The head poked through the skin on my shin, and I bawled, “You fucking slithering whore!”

  With the head out, the woman calmly pulled the arrow the rest of the way through, the shaft slipping out easily from the bloody and widened wound. The women holding me released their hold, and I sagged against Meriel. Ears ringing, and heart hammering, I couldn’t find any strength to leap across the short distance and knock out the pink-eyed lady’s lights out.

  Two heavy breaths later, my lights went out.

  ✽✽✽

  Consciousness came to me slowly as I blinked my bleary eyes from the heavy stupor. As the cogs started turning, memories caught up, and a surge of panic coursed down my spine. The panic died down as the rest of my senses came to, which was when I felt something pressed into side. Turning a fraction to the right, I saw Meriel balled up next to me, sleeping soundly with a large blanket of colorful tribal patterns covering us.

  I sat up for a better look of the room. The walls, ceiling, and floor were all the same kind of grey stone that looked like there were chipped away and shaped with a hammer and chisel, the place more like a cave than a room. There was a doorway on the far end, the faint light showing that it led to an adjacent hallway. The only thing in the spacious cave was more beds and a sconce in each corner, providing soft yellow light.

  A moment of confusion passed until I remembered my injuries.

  “What the fuck?” I whispered, more confused than ever at the sight of my scabbed-over wounds. There was one on my bicep, and another in my chest, exactly as I remembered it last. Shucking the cover to the side, I furrowed my brow at the realization that all I had on was my underwear. No vest, pants, boots, and, even worse, no guns. Not even my knife.

  Pushing aside that alarming evidence, I checked my lower body. The gash in my thigh was closed up, the same true for my shin.

  Have I been in a coma for a couple of weeks?

  Everything felt sore, especially my left side, but considering getting skewered like a cocktail sausage, I felt okay.

  “Al-Leever?”

  Meriel watched me closely as she propped herself on her side. She sat on her knees, her eyes boring at the scabbed hole in my chest for a while before they flicked up, deep worry carved into her face.

  “I’m okay,” I said, being sure to give a thumbs up to convey the point. “Or at least I think. Where in the actual hell am I?” I asked, giving the doorway a weary look.

  “We’re in the mountains,” Meriel responded.

  Freezing in place, I contemplated what I just heard. Slowly, I turned my head towards the elf, staring at her like she just sprouted a second head. “D-did you just… talk?”

  She breathed a sigh of relief, her lips curling into a wide smile. “Oh, it worked. Finally.” Not wasting a beat, she drew me into a tight hug, her body trembling from the strain of her strong squeeze. “Thank you.” She broke away and pressed her forehead into mine. “Thank you for saving my dear Fell, and thank you for taking care of me. For the burden you imposed upon yourself, even after everything, I am forever grateful.”

  I blinked a few times, staring at her. “You’re talking? Have you just been screwing with me this whole time?”

  Meriel chuckled and then ran her fingers along my neck, where I felt an unfamiliar tug. “The Isusi were fortunate enough to have an Oratum Stone, to fix out language barrier.”

  Reaching up, I felt something smooth tied off tightly against my neck. The necklace came off with a yank, and in my hand was a flat, diamond-shaped gemstone of what looked like jade.

  “This lets me talk to you?” I asked, holding up the stone to the light.

  Meriel gave a playful shake of her head and took the stone to tie back around my neck.

  “It’ll allow you to understand others in the tongue you know, but it has to be pressed against your throat if you want others to understand you.”

  “But… That’s impossible,” I said in a quiet voice, running my finger along the stone. Maybe I got an infection, and this was a fever dream.

  “Al-Leever?” she asked. With my throat locked up, I merely looked at her. “Can you hear me?” I nodded once. “Then it’s not impossible,” she reasoned. “The Oratum Stone is a common tool for the civilized species that cannot communicate verbally.”

  My mouth opened and closed a few times, but there was so much casually mentioned that I had no idea where to start asking questions.

  “Al-Leever?” she asked with a worried frown. “You’re shaking; what’s wrong?” She reached for me, but I scrambled off the matt and onto the cold floor. “Please, I can get—”

  “Just give me a second,” I snapped. I got to my feet without too much trouble, my shin feeling a little tight but manageable. Focusing on my breath, I started pacing across the floor.

  She was speaking elf before I woke up in a cave. I woke up in a cave after having snake-people ripping arrows out of me after they shot me with said arrows. Wait. Did she say mountain? In a mountain. Wha—this is—

  “Ah, good sign to see the native walking about,” a voice called from the entrance.

  Slithering in was a snake-woman, an entourage of three more flanking her sides and rear. Swallowing harshly, I shuffled into a corner, giving them a scorching eyeful of murderous intent. I felt naked without my rifle, even more so without my pants, but my fists still worked. Just have to get in a good shot on the human parts.

  The female creature leading the small party broke away and slithered forth, making my muscles strain with tension, but she stopped at a respectful ten feet.

  “You’re among friends, Al-Leever,” she softly, a proud undertone giving it an added depth of calming clarity.

  “Oliver,” I said curtly. “My name is Oliver, not Al-Leever. And who the actual fuck—What the actual fuck are you?” I was already breathing hard at the end of that, my heart pounding a thousand miles a minute.

  One snake-woman from the entourage snaked forward, her face scrunched up with a bitter scowl. “You’ll show respect, lest your tongue be splayed.”

  I took in the strange woman with equal parts concern and fascination. There were all sorts of red flags, but I’d be lying if she wasn’t drop-dead gorgeous. Her short, black hair was done up in a sloppy ponytail that left her bangs hanging, framing her face like a portrait done by one of those dead French artists. Her eyes were a very intense shade of purple, which were amplified by the burning intensity of hate that only a person ready to kill another could possess. The only thing covering the sizeable swells of her chest was a tied off band of pink silk, and covering the section where her human and snake portion met was a matching pink skirt.

  The only thing of interest, other than the snake portion of alternating scale bands of cobalt-blue and black, was the bl
oody bandage around her left arm.

  Oh. At least she’s not being a bitch for no reason.

  Her glare lasted two seconds longer when the snake lady who liked like the leader yanked hard on the younger one’s ponytail.

  “Your tongue will be splayed if you do not learn to mind it, Nuna,” she said in a matron, yet vehement tone to the other squirming in her grasp. “He repaid in blood threefold to your one; bury that ill will and conduct yourself with respect.” The cool collection of humbleness returned to her face once she returned her gaze to mine. “My daughter has much growing to do. Please don’t take her quibble to heart.”

  I didn’t respond and just kept my eyes locked on her. Sensing my obvious unease, she released the hair of the woman who was supposedly her daughter and slithered closer a few more feet. She held her arms out wide and stopped.

  Now that she mentioned it, I do see a likeness between the two. This woman had similar features: midnight hair stopping past her shoulders and done in a rough ponytail. Eyes like Concord grapes, and having similar scales of alternating bands of black and blue.

  The only real difference was that this woman was more mature, more developed, actually. She had breasts like two cantaloupes, being covered and supported by white silk crossed over her chest in an X, the straps being tied off around her neck. The effect gave her a valley of cleavage one could fall to death in. Secured around her impressively toned waist was a white skirt with intricate stitching of black thread, beads, and colorful stones adorning the hem and belt.

  “Calm, Oliver,” she said in a smooth, assured voice. “My name is Nolala Isusi, Chieftain of the Isusi. My people heed my word as law. No harm is to come to you.” Nolala gestured to Meriel, who had approached but gave me space. “Your friends have shared your distressing tale, so I understand your fear.” She shuffled closer a few feet and held out her hand. “All that I ask for is your trust; feel safe in our company.”

  Nolala smiled, and it had the same glory of a clear summer day. Meriel urged me on with a hopeful smile of her own.

  Various ulterior motives the snake-woman may have played out in my head, even if most of them didn’t make sense. Well, them keeping me as feeding stock seemed like a likely scenario considering snakes can eat thing easily twice their mass ratio.

  God. Why the fuck do I have to know that?

  The human portion looked like some sort of Amazonian milf, but the long, scaly lower portion couldn’t be ignored. She wasn’t human. None of them were. Still, even though they looked like monsters, they were acting human.

  Sighing once, I took her hand and shook. “May I have some pants, please?”

  Nolala closed her eyes and chuckled once. She waved over someone from her entourage. The approaching snake-lady had a similar scale scheme of a python and what looked like the common tribal attire of a tube top and skirt. And while she wasn’t as ethereal as the Chieftain, she was still painfully beautiful. Comparing them would be like comparing gold and silver.

  In her hands were my familiar shades of green and grey from my uniform. The woman dipped her head as she handed off my clothes, and then backed away.

  “We’ve taken the liberty of cleaning your clothes,” Nolala informed. “Your other pants are still being mended, however. Wren had to cut them away to treat your leg; we’ll let you know when they are finished.”

  I looked down at the mention, and then felt enraged when I remembered their treatment.

  “I’ve seen better treatment in the third world,” I grumbled while dressing. Once my jacket was on, I checked the flag patch on my right, then I ran a finger over my division patch on the left—fifty-first armored. “How many days was I out?”

  “You’ve been asleep for only a few hours,” Meriel answered.

  “A few hours?” I repeated, then got agitated. “Don’t jerk me around! Flesh wounds like that don’t heal in a few hours.

  “Calm,” Nolala intoned as she rested her hand on my shoulder. “I understand you’re distressed and confused, given your circumstances. But ease your heart. Food will be served shortly. Care to sit down to eat with us?”

  I looked from the elf, to the snake-women, and then rubbed the stone around my neck. I turned away to gather my thoughts, wondering where to even start.

  Facing Nolala again, I asked, “What do you mean circumstances?”

  Her fingers tightened for a second before she withdrew her hand. “I’m sure you’re very hungry. Eat, then we’ll talk. Is that suitable?”

  Anger, worry, and confusion percolated incessantly, but hunger was stealing the show with its angry roar. Relenting, I nodded and waited for the Chieftain to lead the way. She was the first to walk— slither out, followed by Nuna. Not before giving me venomous eyeful. Meriel drew in close to my side and guided me out of the cave. The other two attendants waited until we passed and then followed on our rear.

  The dim light in the corridor was provided by what looked like little bulbs embedded in the ceiling in regular ten-foot intervals. Shooting a glance over my shoulder, I could see the corridor’s lights went on for a great distance, up until petered out into darkness.

  While the light was scant, I could make out the same details on the walls and ceiling like I did in that room: obvious tooling marks left in a consistent pattern. Marks like those were only responsible from hand tools, the subtle imperfections only possible from a person’s hands. The only thing that was perfectly smooth was the cool stone under my feet. And after listening to the snake-women’s scales brushing against the ground as they weaved forward, I understood why it was so smooth.

  It was then that I noticed Meriel walking without a limp. Unlike me, she had her boots on, so I couldn’t tell what her swelling looked like. However, her strides didn’t show a hint of discomfort.

  As we traveled along, we passed more rooms carved out from stone on either side of the corridor, all carbon copies of the space I awoke in. Some were lit and contained beds or mats; others were either dark or empty. So far, everything was cold and incredibly sparse.

  Nearing the bend at the end of the great corridor, the hum of many voices could be heard, and more prominent light spilled out. The smell of incense grew even stronger, making my nose twitch, but the ambient warmth in the air was welcomed.

  Following Nolala and Nuna, we stepped around the bend and crossed into an incredibly spacious room, filled with thirty or forty snake-women. A large portion of them circled around a sunken hearth, where a cauldron big enough to take a bath hung from a triangular frame. The other miscellaneous bodies huddled around little braziers scattered throughout the wide space. The murmuring hushed as soon as Nolala was noticed. She and Nuna continued onward, the others shuffling back respectfully; the two behind Meriel and I broke off and joined the gathering.

  I was about to follow when I caught something in the corner of my eye.

  “Hey! That’s my stuff!” I yelled at one of the women on the other side of the hearth, going through my rucksack.

  The snake-woman hastily withdrew her hand and gave me a started look. I marched over, stepping past to other women and their ever prying eyes. Mostly everything was laid out on the floor, the scene looking like a kid who got into their dad’s toolbox. I opened my mouth to give the one who was elbow-deep in my bad an earful when I looked over to the side and grew tremendously livid.

  One woman just kept flipping through Heath’s Bible like it was a pop-up book, truing the book over and sniffing it like a fucking savage.

  “Don't touch that!” I roared, reaching a high enough volume to cause an echo.

  She jumped in alarm, managing to fling the bible right onto the hot coals of the hearth. I scrambled forward and reached into the hot pit. A couple of my fingers brushed to coals, but I got the Bible out quickly before it caught fire. The cover has some melted craters, and the corner of some pages were singed, but it was still whole.

  “I’m… I’m terribly sorry,” the woman said.

  I looked up. She appeared a lot younger t
han the other snake-women I’ve seen; maybe late twenties as opposed to everyone looking in their late twenties. The human half was pale and lean. She had short mud-colored hair with beads and stones braided into her bangs that hung in front of her panicked brown eyes.

  Nolala had slithered over and placed a calming arm over my trembling shoulder. “Is that of great value to you?” she asked.

  After a long pause, I answered, “Yes.”

  “Remy,” the Chieftain uttered heavily, making the younger snake-woman shrink. “You burned something of value. You must pay in kind.”

  Nolala looked down into the hearth, Remy following, her eyes glimmering. Swallowing hard, Remy reached her hand towards the glowing coals. The veil of angered lifted from my eyes once I realized what was implied. Before I could speak out, someone did it for me.

  “Wait, Nolala,” called a raucous voice.

  I turned toward the call, and I couldn’t help but glare at the snake-woman slithering around the crowd. In her hands was my M4, and she even dared to wear my vest. It took a moment, but then I recalled that she was the one who almost lanced me with a spear.

  When she approached, she gave a wide smile, ignoring my peeved expression. Her face went to business and she addressed the Chieftain.

  “Remy is under my guidance,” she said, giving the younger one a smirk. “Her punishment becomes my punishment since I failed to instill proper manners. Please, allow me to take the burn.”

  “If you insist, Sanvi,” Nolala accepted easily.

  “Whoa, hey,” I interjected. “Look, I’m really pissed at Remy, but no one should be burned.”

  Sanvi gave me an odd look, tilting her head to the side. “She wronged you and you’re upset. Here.” She held out my rifle, which I took, feeling a little confused by the curious response.

  Without a hint of hesitation, Sanvi reached into the hearth and pressed her right palm onto the coals, where she held it for a solid three seconds. She didn’t scream or cry, the only semblance of pain being the shallow breath she sucked in.