ELKALI

The creature didn’t answer him, of course. 

But it extended a single claw point to the place where the dark vein began, dipping his skin ever so slightly. It followed the vein with its claw, brushing over his wrist, his bicep, trailing across his chest, all the way to his heart. 

Calen shuddered against the sensation.

It retracted its claw, drawing the same line along its own palm, arm, and chest. The hand worked from Calen to itself, gesturing back and forth with animated chirps.

“That answers nothing. You did this, yes, I know. I just-” Calen rubbed his brow. “I have no idea if this is a good thing or not. You’ve injected your own blood and biomatter directly into a human body. Look at this! Human veins aren’t supposed to be this colour.”

The whole situation was a mess. And even more of a mess than just his current predicament. He had made a lot of noise, as had the creature. And blood had been spilled. He still had no idea what this particular monster wanted. Calen frowned. He also had no idea whether or not it was being hunted by something. 

“I need to get back to other humans.”

This time, the monster didn’t snarl or growl at him. It studied his face carefully. It was a start. Presumably it had done whatever it wanted or needed to do.

He regarded it with a careful, guarded expression. “Will you let me go this time?”

Its tongue popped out of its mouth. 

Before Calen could pull away, it was roaming over his palm. It traveled up his wrist, and along his forearm, tracing the path of the black vein. The papillae investigated every bit of his arm. 

Calen closed his eyes, trying to ignore the soft, wet heat as it slipped under his sleeve. It caressed across his chest, dancing over his skin. It lingered over his heart for a long moment, neither of them moving. He could feel his heartbeat pounding in his chest, echoing in his ears. But the touch was a bit clinical. Appraising, rather than savoring.

Then the monster withdrew its tongue with a deep, satisfied sound. The arms entwining him gently set him down on the ground, but the monster watched his movements like a hawk.

He was still a little shaky, taking a moment to steady himself. His hands flew out, braced against the monster. Feeling lightheaded was to be expected; he had lost a lot of blood. It coated the floor beneath them like a bad paint job. As to whether or not his monstrous friend’s miraculous healing powers extended to replenishing his blood, well… Anything was possible at this point.

Calen took inventory of the room for the first time. 

It was larger than it had initially appeared; the sheer size of the monster had made it seem small and somewhat confined. But now that he got a good look at it, he realized it was an old parking lot. Rusted cars were melting their way into oblivion, many missing parts with shattered windows. Dust and debris coated most of the floor, with occasional patches of green moss and lichen dotting the floor.

His original purpose had been half forgotten in the chaos that followed his capture. He turned to the creature. “Are there any other monsters here?”

It gave him seven slow blinks.

“No? Yes? Are you injured?”

The monster tilted its head.

“You don’t seem injured. But you were in pain, were you not? You were howling, and I...” Calen sighed. “Can I perform an assessment? On you? It’s the whole reason I came this way in the first place.”

There was a long moment of silence. 

Calen was just about to throw in the towel and start looking for ways to scale to the upper floor when the monster shifted its large body. It clicked at him, insistent on his attention, and waited until he was fully focused on it. Then it slowly lowered itself to the floor. It placed its arms on either, stomach to the ground, and let its wings relax against the debris. It even rested its chin on the ground like a cat.

“Alright, that’s… That’s good. Very good - thank you. I’ll check you over now.”

The monster preened under his praise, mild as it was. Like an over-fluffed crow.

He only had one glove, so he tucked the other hand in his pocket. He circled the monster, giving it a cursory examination. 

God, it was big! 

There were other, bigger monsters that roamed the Earth these days, of course. But there was something about seeing distinctly human - and yet inhumane - limbs and features at the size that they were. A blue whale might unsettle for pure size alone, but the maximalist humanoid brush with which this creature had been painted… It was so unsettlingly similar that he felt himself hesitate to call the monster “it”.

As he circled around the back of the monster, he discovered that the mystery appendage was, indeed, a massive tail. It was long and adorned in gleaming feathers like the rest of the creature, streaming as if a long roll of glossy black velvet. The tip flared outwards with twin pairs of wicked looking spines. Calen was careful to give it a wide berth, though the monster kept the tail tucked close.

Calen didn’t dare reach out to touch the wings. He wanted to, of course. But he wouldn’t. They were even more beautiful than the one that he had been working with earlier. Lush and vibrant, and full of life. They twitched and puffed, filled with flexible feathers. They were perfectly healthy. No signs of some sort of secondary wings that might have been pulled off.

Powerful legs coiled underneath the monster as it rested. The claws were almost the length of his forearm. Three in total, with a smaller dewclaw on each leg. Feathers gave way to hard skin along these limbs. Upon closer inspection he recognized the glint of tiny scales across the legs, much like those on the horns. This creature was some sort of unimaginable chimera.

Finishing his rotation, finding nothing of note along the monster’s torso, he returned to face it. “I’m going to inspect your face, alright?”

The monster chirped softly in response.

Placing one hand against the monster’s cheek, he tilted its head to one side and inspected the three eyes he had struck. There was a delicate webbing that separated the primary eyes from the secondaries. Not a structural divide between the different eyes, but something more like a membrane. That, or the bone was very delicate. 

Calen gently pulled at the lid of the primary eye, visually searching for any indication that there were damages. 

The eye moved beneath his hand, watching him.

“Any pain?”

The monster yawned.

“I’ll take that as a ‘no’, then. But you did experience pain when I hit you, didn’t you?”

There was a snort, puffing out in a small cloud of dust.

Calen let the creature’s eyelid slide back into place. “That sound seems to be trying to tell me that it wasn’t much of a blow.”

The monster clicked twice at him, punctuating the clicks with a loud ‘pop’.

“Yes, well,” he flicked the monster’s nose, “In my defense, you made quite a lot of noise.”

He didn’t know what made him feel so comfortable with this creature. But he recognized his own over-familiar mannerisms only after he had made them. 

Too late. 

An obsidian hand crawled its way up to his face. The arm was long and dexterous, apparently capable of twisting in ways that defied human flexibility. A singular claw-tip dented Calen’s lips. He could feel the controlled, careful softness with which it lingered. 

He held his breath. 

The claw tapped his lips. Once, twice. Then fell back into place on the ground.

Calen swallowed. He hadn’t tried to back away from the hand as it had reached for him. He hadn’t tried to remove the claw. It wasn’t even out of some pragmatic sense, like the need to be still in case the monster lashed out. What troubled him was that he hadn’t minded. He had felt comfortable, even.

“Trying - ah,” Calen coughed, “Trying to tell me that I made more noise?”

An amicable snort.

“Yes. Well. You didn’t exactly give me a warning.” He circled the raised ridges of the monster’s cheekbones with his hand, tracing down the jaw, all the way to the monster’s throat. No signs of trauma. “I… I wonder what sort of creature you are. I’ve never seen anything quite like you. I don’t understand you, or what you are, or what has happened here. I don’t even know why you tried to help me. I…”

Calen sat back on the dirt and rubble strewn floor, next to the monster. “I promise that I’m not usually this disjointed. Today has been a very… Disjointing day. I found others, you know? Like you. I found their… I found injuries. Are you alone?”

The monster, who had been listening intently to him, gave a slow blink.

“I don’t even know if that’s a yes or a no. If you were a cat, I would say it was a yes. But you’re more of a crow, aren’t you? Or a raven.”

Pointed ears swiveled, taking in his every word. Calen gestured at them. “But those? Definite deer. And then we have those clawed feet of yours…”

It lifted one foot and splayed the toes wide and wriggled them one by one for him to see. Calen gaped. “Ha! What in the world… I’ll bet you could paint pretty pictures with toes like that.”

The monster tilted its head. Calen fought down the laughter that threatened to bubble in his throat at the prospects of this… Creature painting a Van Gogh with its toes. Or perhaps a Picass-toe piece. His cringe-inducing pun was enough to smother the laughter on its own.

Business. Focus, Calen.

"... You want to know how I ended up here?"

The creature watched him. A captive audience.

"I followed your howling. I thought you might be hurt but… Well, you don’t seem to be injured at all. I don’t know what I’m doing… I don’t even know what you think you’ve been doing. What if your “medicine” winds up killing me?” Calen closed his eyes, feeling a sudden wave of nausea.

His monster made a keening sound, clearly picking up on the distress in Calen’s voice. It moved to a seated position, wings flared ever so slightly.

“You’re an empathetic creature, aren’t you? Can you at least show me if there’s some place where you were injured? Maybe I’ll feel better if I know I didn’t come here for nothing.” He laughed humourlessly. “What even is all of this? Nevermind. You don’t understand me anyways. I’m talking at you. At a monster.”

The monster rumbled. 

He looked at it ruefully. 

It lifted a hand, and he watched without comment as a clawed finger was brought to its mouth. Checking to make sure he was watching, the monster bobbed its head. It almost looked like a nod.

The monster bit down on its finger and severed it. Like crunching a carrot.

Calen flew to his feet, eyes wide. “What the hell are you doing?!”

The monster leaned to the side and spat out the finger.

Calen’s hands were on the monster at once, but it batted him away. 

He struggled with it, trying to get a better look at the injury. But even as he did, the monster - almost indignantly - shoved the injury in his face. Before his very own eyes, muscle and bone began to fold together. He watched as flesh bubbled and swelled in the place of the stump, the injury site healing itself over and folding outwards. Within a matter of seconds, an entirely new finger flexed and wiggled in the place of the severed one. There wasn’t a single mark; the flesh was unblemished and flawless.

Calen grasped the finger in his own hands. It danced in his grip as he tried to hold it still. “How?! You - that’s! This is incredible! Gods below, I’ve heard of monsters that could regenerate, but this?!”

He looked back at the creature, and was treated to something that, somehow, was even more incredible than the instantaneous reconstruction of an entire digit.

The monster was smiling.

Calen caught himself. No, of course it wasn’t smiling. Smiles were a sign of aggression in the animal kingdom. That wouldn’t bode well for him. Perhaps it was merely imitating him. He hadn’t been smiling, had he, though? He was fairly certain his reactions had been miserably pain and distinct discomfort the entire time.

But the monster’s eyes were dancing with amusement. It was a soft, delighted expression so mesmerizing that Calen could scarcely look away. His instincts were telling him that this was not some dumb, mute animal. How could that possibly be? This was a being that was aware, with an emotional intelligence that was already superior to most of his own colleagues.

With a slow, hesitant hand, Calen reached out. He cupped the monster’s cheeks. The monster crooned softly, seven eyes closing under horizontal eyelids.

“What are you…?”

There was fear in those words. 

It wasn’t necessarily the fact that his monster was intelligent that frightened him. This was a creature that had given him every indication that gentleness and tenderness were second nature. But it was the greater implications that disturbed him. The scientific consensus had been that these were beasts. Animal level intelligence at best. The number of experiments that had been approved on that precedent alone… The number of experiments they would want to test out on this creature. To push his monster to the limits of that incredible regenerative potential. 

Hell, it was so potent that it had apparently healed him! Without long term testing there was no way to know if the tissue was fully compatible, but if it was…

His head spun. There was no doubt in his mind that Central would be frothing at the mouth for the chance to tear this monster to pieces. They’d devour it whole in ways more terrifying than simply being eaten.

“Do you… Have a name?”

The long red tongue coiled and lolled, before giving him a small lick along his cheek. A pitched, sharp sound escaped him that seemed to amuse the monster. Calen still hadn’t gotten used to the way the monster used its tongue, but it wasn’t quite as unsettling as it had been.

The monster opened its mouth and spoke.

Well, it wasn’t exactly speaking. Not in the human sense. But it indicated to him with careful, deliberate intonations. There was a popping click in the centre of the word. Calen waited. The monster repeated the sound. Then it indicated to itself with a clawed hand.

“Is that your name?”

A slow blink.

“Ah… It is your name! You have a name-” Calen caught himself, “-I mean, of course you have a name, but the implications! Do you realize…” He shook his head in disbelief. “Could you repeat it? I will try to say it as you do. But, alas, human vocal cords and their limitations…”

The monster obliged, popping its name for him yet again. Calen tried to imitate it. He could make the “popping” sound to a certain degree - though his interpretation was hardly as impressive as the sounds coming from his winged friend. He quickly found that the muscles of his throat tired of the popping, however, and it became somewhat difficult to emulate.

They eventually settled on a close approximation. ‘Elkali’. The middle half wasn’t truly an ‘Ka’ but the guttural pop that required one to jerk their chin forward to articulate.

Elkali was truly pleased by the outcome, however, crooning and chattering at him for the first while whenever he used it. Elkali seemed even more pleased to have Calen’s name once it was offered. The monster embellished every declaration of Calen’s name with an impressive “pop” of its own at the “Ca”.

Calen took to referring to Elkali as a ‘he’. It seemed crude to refer to the creature as an 'it', after all this time..

Elkali was surprisingly easy to understand, despite the natural limitations of their conversation.

At a certain point in time, Elkali began to gesture insistently towards Calen’s arm. He rumbled at Calen, his tongue flicking out in odd motions that were oddly reminiscent of a snake.

Calen frowned. “I’m not certain I understand your meaning.”

Elkali began to lick his own forearm. 

He looked pointedly back at Calen. 

Then licked his own arm again. When Calen merely watched, bemused, Elkali gently took his arm in hand. A clawed fingertip tapped on Calen’s forearm before indicating to his tongue.

“You are asking if you can… Ah… “Wash” my arm?”

Elkali chirped.

“Why in the world…” Calen trailed off as Elkali began pointing to his nose. The strange “gill” structures fluttered. He pointed back to Calen’s arm. Then to his nose again. 

“I don’t know about that…” It wasn’t even about monster saliva at this point. They were well beyond that. It was the idea of having Elkali’s tongue on his skin.

There was an impatient huff.

Calen gave Elkali a rueful smile. “Am I being unreasonable, oh Great Beast?”

Elkali gave another huff.

“You make a compelling point,” he murmured, “Elkali? Can you smell my blood?”

The monster affirmed his suspicions.

“And if - if - I allow you to - ah - lick off the blood, will it be detectable?”

When Elkali indicated that was not the case, Calen gave a defeated sigh. If Elkali could smell it, then other monsters would be able to, as well. He was weighing the prospects of the tongue against - what? Logical decisions? Somewhat reluctantly, Calen held out his arm. “Alright. You can… Lick.”

As Elkali inclined his head to get closer to Calen, the tongue latched around Calen’s pinky finger. He felt the strange papillae roving over his skin. They tickled the delicate webbing between his fingers, ghosts gliding along his arm. 

Then, surprising Calen, Elkali wrapped his tongue around Calen’s forearm. In a rope like fashion, the monster rasped his tongue up and down over Calen’s skin. Like the rest of him, the tongue was built from powerful muscles. It pressed just as much as it lathed, with Calen twitching and wincing as it stroked him.

The tongue retracted with one final caress, leaving his arm exposed and “cleaned” for him to examine. Nothing remained but the singular black line that stained his vein.

Calen cleared his throat. “Hm- thank you, Elkali. I think. We’ll see. Let’s just hope that your ‘medicine’ works for humans.”

Calen regarded his monstrous companion carefully. “Elkali?”

Elkali chattered amicably at him.

“The team of humans I was with. We found… Bits. A… Wing, an arm… Heads. Did they… Were they yours?”

Elkali gave him the slow blink that meant “yes”.

“Wait - just a moment Elkali. What about the heads? Those can’t possibly-”

Elkali affirmed his disbelieving inquiry.

Calen gaped. “Those were your heads? All of them? How?!”

Hesitating slightly, Elkali moved his hands to his head. It took Calen a moment to recognize what he was attempting. Elkali was pulling, and drawing his claws across his own neck.

“No! Elkali, no! You don’t need to show me!” Calen rushed to Elkali’s side, ripping his hands away before he could do any damage to himself. He did not need another demonstration. Especially not of a live decapitation. “I believe you! I do. Don’t hurt yourself, you understand?!”

Elkali clicked, but allowed Calen to pry his hands away.

“But why? Why did you do that to yourself?”

It was immediately apparent that the reason was a meaning that Elkali either could not - or would not - convey. He murmured softly to Calen, a tumble of avian sounds and Elkali-words that surged in rhythmic modulations. Calen was, at least, able to confirm that he had not been pursued by anything. The entire goddamn trail of bloody entrails and body parts had entirely been Elkali tearing off pieces of himself.

Calen couldn’t wrap his mind around it. He tried again and again to push Elkali to explain, but their communication fell short. Elkali seemed to dislike the topic. He pulled away from Calen every time he circled back to it.

Calen tried other topics. “You knew what my injury was. Right along here. The thorn?”

Elkali nodded - something Calen had suggested he try. He still didn’t quite have the hang of it, often tilting his head side to side instead of up and down.

“So you’ve encountered it before, yes? And you knew what to do when you sensed that I was injured.”

Elkali fluffed out his feathers. Having watched him throughout their interactions, Calen was beginning to recognize this particular “feather-fluff” as a bit of preening. He was proud of his actions. Like a puffed out crow.

Calen tucked away a small smile. “We will assume, for the moment, that your treatment is one-hundred percent successful. But how did you know what to do? Have you done something like this before?”

An affirmative chirp. Then, recalling Calen’s body language request, a clumsy up and down nod.

“Hm… Humans? You healed humans this way?”

Elkali nodded. He was getting better at it.

“Did you… Live with humans? Before you came here?”

Elkali hesitated. Instead of nodding or indicating to Calen that he was wrong on this count, Elkali vocalized at him. They’d circled right back into uncomfortable territory for Elkali.

“It’s alright, Elkali. We won’t talk about it if you dislike it. I’d just like to know what happened to you. Where you came from, how you got here…”

Leaning down, Elkali bumped his head against Calen’s shoulder. The movement was oddly comfortable - domestic, almost. Calen’s hands twitched. The ridiculous, out of place, and completely uncalled for urge to pet Elkali’s feathers rolled over him.

He bit his teeth into his cheek, staying very still instead. 

The gentle sweetness of this massive monster disarmed him. 

Getting attached to monsters - particularly giant, intelligent, instantaneously regenerating ones with razor sharp teeth and claws - certainly wasn’t what anyone would call a good idea. It was a ridiculous idea, even. Calen was letting the same impulse that had led him to seek out a hurt creature in the dangerous ruins lead his proximity to Elkali. 

A monster he neither fully understood nor fully knew.