“Alright, so here's the pn. Me and Boriss are going to head to the s, or at least as far as he take me until I o go in alone. While we’re gone, I need both of you to gather information while staying out of sight as much as possible.”

  I g Cillian. “You should also try to figure out how that skill of yours works. It could be useful to us ter.”

  “I will give you a week,” Irmgard excims. “If you do not return by then, I will go my own way.”

  I nod. “I should be back by tomorrow night if I rush. This isnd isn’t nearly as big as you think it is.”

  Cillian sigh. “Don't die. I don't fancy my odds surviving on my own.”

  “Don't worry,” I wave my paw at him, “My death tends to cide with the end of the world. Anything that kills me will shortly kill you too.”

  Cillian rolls his eyes as though I’m joking.

  I tap my mount, “Now, Borris, you ready to head out?”

  “Da. We go make corruption into suka.”

  …Sigh?

  “You 't make corruption into- you know what. Nevermind. sidering how everything is going, said corruption may be a woman that needs a firm paw.”

  The oaf ughs boisterously at my ent and then jogs into the forest.

  Fauna abound within the forest foliage. Bright, colorful, plump birds flit from branch to branch. Tasty chipmunk analogues chitter and scold from their arbors. Delectable mice rustle the grass along their hidden paths. My new feline instinct to hunt pairs with my slightly less new fenris instinct to sughter, and I subsciously flex my cws as I watch the birds.

  “sidering the diversity of the bird species, this isnd must either not have many predators or it’s a major stop over on migration routes..”

  “Many pretty birds.”

  “They are, but they also don't look local. Many of these birds have a rather vibrant plumage that doesn't fit with the current enviro.”

  “Birds not normal?” Boriss asks.

  “Probably not. Too much biodiversity of colors and types that would be more on in a tropical rai. We’re currently in a temperate forest- which shouldn’t have such evolutionary pressures to produce such coloration. My only guess is that the birds traveled from elsewhere or this isnd used to have a different enviro.”

  My eyes roam the treetops, sing for predators, and find basically her than rger bird species.

  However, everything ges as we get closer to the isnd’s ter. The trees start looking less healthy and the number of animals takes a nosedive. The smell of decay fills my nostrils which urge me to gag. I don't, of course, aher does my mount.

  “rade Quasi, smell is stinky, yes? Like Russian shoe after training.”

  “Yea, stinky is a euphemistic way to describe it. You’re lucky you don't have a strong sense of smell.”

  The animals and is disappear altogether when we reach the edge of a barren s. Dead trees jut from the water without a single sign of decay. Violet water, transparent and sterile, without a single scrap of algae or trace of leeches, ps softly around the gaunt tree roots. Bleached bones litter the bottom of the pond.

  We stop he edge. I dismount and nd a foot away from the thick, violet water.

  “Take out some of that jerky and dip it into the liquid. I want to see what happens.”

  He does as I ask arieves a piece from a ration. He dips it in the liquid and then pulls it back out. The jerky is starting to already dissolve.

  Fast ag acid of some kind that ’t dissolve bark or bone? Odd.

  “Now, how do I adapt to this enviro? Boriss, do you think I should take a lick?”

  Boriss raises an eyebrow. “Is not you already adapting?” he points at me, “You are purple, yes?”

  Purple?

  I twist my head and look at my fur. Indeed, my coat is a resple violet.

  “Huh. Alright. Let’s test this further.”

  I move closer to the water and dip a little bit of my fur. I stare at my fur and watch as it does not dissolve. Then, I dip my entire paw. It gets distastefully wet with purple ichor, but remains my trustworthy paw.

  “Final test. Lower that test jerky to me.”

  He does and I take a bite. The fvor is atrociously bad, but I feel no pain of any kind.

  “Looks like I’m immune. Good. Boriss, set up a quick camp a me eat my fill.”

  As he nods, I feel a rumble extend through the ey of the isnd. It feels like ahquake, albeit a weak one.

  “Huh. Weird.”

  “Is not normal?”

  I tilt my head away from the water. “Dunno, first time here. Other worlds have a tendency to fuck with biomes, and sometimes even physics. God I hate when physics is ged. It makes things so needlessly uable.”

  I grimace at the liquid for a moment. Then, I walk into the murky violet water. I feel no pain, but the water is thicker than expected. With a sigh, I doggy paddle my way deeper into the s.

  I tilt my head back. “Boriss, make camp further away from the s. Keep a fire burning so I find you on my return.”

  “Roger, rade,” he salutes.

  ____________________________________________________________________

  Though the s looks like death took a bony, purple diarrhea shit into the water, it’s actually perfectly safe. No monsters or beasts roam the waters or skies, no deadly is or se pnts, no gnarly parasites or strange diseases. There is nothing that would endanger my life here.

  “This’d be kind of tranquil if not for the gloomy fog.”

  As I waded and paddled deeper, I entered a violet fog. Boats floated there, mostly small paddle boats and oes, plete with the bony remains of their crew. At length, I did cross a rger craft without oars or mast, floating in the murk. Sensing a jackpot, I climb aboard. My intuition proves perspicacious. Among the bones of the loed crew lie their wood aal belongings: several well crafted knives, a couple swords, a fancy hammer with Germanies on the head, and the s from their generous purses. Ah! Cruel Irony that my perfe has her opposable thumbs nor pockets, I could not cat paddle with all those s.

  Or the hammer.

  Which I tried, mind you. I’m no pussy, but a five pound feline only carry so much.

  I tihe tour of my new vessel and lo! The ship’s suspicious ck of obvious propulsion turns auspicious. I find the boat’s magical eact, plete with fancy glowing crystal. I climb up to the pilot box aally bless the shipwright for installing cat patible trols. May Loki never leave a fming bag of shit on his doorstep.

  veyance secured, I tinued on my way. I find even more boats with humaons, but unlike my first find, these are crewed by the siderably less wealthy.

  But, ohing I do note from my high vantage is that some of the corpses aren't human, which means that other se species exist.

  As I he ter of the s, the fog bees thicker and thicker, till I barely see past the prow of Neko 1. Then, all at ohe fog clears. Before me, a monstrous, house sized head lies half buried in a hill surrounded by sy water.

  The head, at least what I see of it, has signs of decay and even damage. One side of the monstrous head looks heavily ied.

  I hop off my boat and spsh my the muddy hill. I climb up to the head and stop. Under my feet thrums a sta, a tinuous thumping vibration that raises my tail.

  A single, slitted eye, rge as I am, opens and gazes upon me.

  “A sn?” a voice speaks directly into my mind, “Here?” the eye blinks. “No, only a child.”

  “Well, hello to you too.” I call out to the head. “Are you by ce the proprietor of this sy demesne?”

  Mortal speech? At su age? Impossible!”

  The eye blinks and seems to foe. “Who are you?” it asks.

  “Who?” I tilt my head. “Who is but the form following the fun of what and what I am is a man transformed into an adorably cute kitten.”

  The eye blinks slowly as though it finally realizes something.

  “Your form is ged.”

  “Twice ged, actually, it’s hard to find a form to express my awesome. Once, I was aremely sexy human, to put Adonis to shame. Then I experimented being a preposterously puissant werewolf monster demon, and now I am in God’s first form, an adorable kitten.” I nod to the eye. “It’s been a wild st few days. Not lucky for me at all.”

  “Anyways,” I stretch my limbs. “The name’s Quasi Eludo, summoned hero extraordi's a pleasure to meet you, giant, monstrous, psionic talking head.”

  The eye blinks.

  “Curious. I sense wariness, but not fear. Your mind is old. Older than my own. You are… an enigma.”

  “Yea, I get that a lot.” I y on the ground. “So, you got a name or something or am I going to keep thinking of you as a ‘giant head’?”

  A moment passes as the eye blinks several times. I feel the mental pressure probing me, not reading my thoughts, but more so my emotions.

  “I am known as Tawih, prime matriarch of decay.”

  “Tawih. That's a niame. I was expeg something a bit more plicated and longer.” I roll onto my back. “So, Tawih, what are you doing here?”

  “Dying.” she answers simply.

  “Right. You just turhis versation into something rather morbid. Why are you dying?”

  “The st battle has wounded me beyond my ability to heal. I will eventually die.”

  “Anything I do to help?”

  “No. Only my power over decay deys my death, but even that will soon expire. As of today, I am down to my st heart. I will perish in the decade.”

  “I see. That's unfortunate. But, death happens and all. Been there, dohat several times. I hope you’ve lived a good life? As?”

  “Only my stolen children. They were taken from me. Even now, I sehem alive, captured, and suffering.”

  Wow. You’re dying with the full knowledge that your children are suffering. Now that is fug torture.

  “Alright. You’ve hit my heartstrings. So, maybe I help you out for a little quid to the pro quo. I o get rid of all this decay so the isnd start healing. If you help me, then I give you my word that I’ll find your children and free them.”

  I feel the psioniergy from Tawih swell expoially with a great deal of i and hope.

  “You speak the truth!” Tawih excims.

  The eye blinks rapidly and I feel signifit movement under my feet.

  “I accept this deal, Quasi Eludo. I charge you now with my children, Kawlphe and Tur.”

  I feel a psioniergy sm into my noggin. A mark of some kind. A psionic mark.

  Then the rumbles begin. I watch, mesmerized as the fog clears and the s drains. I watinutes on end as violet liquid flows away, leaving mud and bohe Neko 1 settles into the muever to move again. The stench of decay returns, and this time I do retch.

  “It is dohe forest will heal and I no longer have the energy to tinue living.”

  The eye blinks slowly. The stant thrumming of the ground slows.

  “My core is within my head. When I die, take it and use it as you will. Just… please…”

  The ground shakes o time and the thrumming stops.

  “Save my children.”

  The eye closes permaly.

  As the psioniergy disappears with her death, only a single question is on my mind.

  Does this t as making corruption my bitch or did it just happeher way around?