The Melodic Cussing of Bad Luck

   Things hadn't been all bad though, the woman who found him was slowly helping him figure out what words were, even if he still struggled with those sparrow-trills that filled this new language. The guttural rumbles made his lungs and throat whine in protest of their agony, while the long melodic tones gave some reprieve for his pained voice. He hadn't walked around much since that day, mostly keeping himself to inside his savior's home, but he knew he'd need to step out, the impending eventuality of the act weighing on his mind.

   Then again, it wasn't exactly that daunting compared to the thing that had chased him that day. The sheer wrongness with which it moved; like a puppet with its strings cut - metal bending and twisting like fabric and skin, all the while that ever-present sound grated against the mind. He still shuddered whenever he remembered it, which was quite often, since his ceaseless nightmares of fire were now filled by that thing's shadow.

   Speaking of his savior, she was just walking in the door right now, carrying a sack of… he couldn't exactly place the fruit, or vegetable. It was long and purple, a grey-green stem coming from the top. He had refused to acknowledge the fact that she wasn't human, and it was easy enough to ignore, since it was only her ears that stood out. It was harder to ignore that the other villagers were not human, their long reptilian tails hanging to the ground, tipped in long spikes. Their hands and feet were clawed, with two pairs of horns pointing backwards on their scalp.

   He had tried to figure out what they were earlier, but they usually pointed their tails at him if he stared too long. He hadn't meant to stare so much, a blush creeping to his face whenever he was caught looking, he was just rather hypnotized by the way their tails and legs moved in such perfect synchronicity. He'd even been caught staring at his savior's ears once, just watching them flick around as she emoted and spoke to the others around town.

   That was why he was rather intimidated when she walked in with that ‘definitely not a real smile’ smile, eyes gleaming straight at him. She placed the fruit on one of her tables, her long strides bringing her closer and closer, right until she crouched so that they were at eye level. With a short inhale to fill her lungs, she began to belt off word after word in that strange language, her ears flicking up and down with each of her words as her mood shifted from one phrase to the next.

   Ao could do nothing but sit quietly, his shoulders stock still as he got chastised by the woman who was definitely taller than him. Not that he really knew, he'd always been sitting down when she was around. She did stop, at some point, still staring at him like he was some kind of madman. To which he could only scratch his cheek with barely hidden embarrassment.

   She loomed over him a moment longer, content to just watch him squirm, but eventually let out a sigh of resignation. She looked at him with annoyed eyes, her mouth sparking out a trill that could only mean 'You understood absolutely none of that, didn't you?', her already weary shoulder drooping even further as she placed a fruit on the table, calling it by it's name. She seemed rather insistent that he at least attempt to repeat after her, looking at him almost expectantly.

...

   'Why do I always get stuck with the strange ones?' Was all Ashela could think to herself as she peered down at the boy who simply could not speak. He looked so clueless, so stupid, as though he couldn't understand even a word she said. He had tried repeating words she had said before, but his failures had been worse than even a baby, a baby! Most children were able to pick up the  way to make vocal sounds within a year or two. And yet this young boy - she had been so rudely informed while treating his wounds three days ago - couldn't even understand how to pronounce even simple vowels.

   It was starting to grate on her nerves, which was even more unnerving, since the boy himself seemed to know how to speak, from how he let out those hollow yawning sounds separated by the staccato of his tongue, cheeks, and teeth as he spoke. He had made some effort yesterday, but seeing him suddenly cough up blood and faint was becoming all too common a sight. She had just shown him an adetlone again, waiting for him to repeat the word after her. He looked hesitant, but she kept up her stern gaze, boring into those unnatural pink eyes of his.

   "Adeth-lllone?" The boy said as he slurred out the word clumsily, eyes focused on her face, looking for her approval. He seemed almost hopeful, like his pitiful excuse of speech was worth anything.

   'At least he's at the starting line for being intelligent.' She cheered inwardly, glad that this might not take as long as she thought. She reached down to her bag of groceries again, pulling out a grotrasa. "Grotrasa, repeat after me again." She tried to say in her most commanding voice.

   His pause at her command puzzled Ashela, it should have been an easy command, yes? She looked at him almost like he was stupid again, and he seemed to catch onto the que to repeat her words. "Grota-a, re-at af-er me ag-n."

   'Oh.... this will be a long time, won't it?' She sighed, stood up, and walked to the door. Her rage was already beginning to build between her brows. Ashela was a reasonable woman, she knew what it was like to learn a new language, even she had struggled when travelling for the past 70 solar cycles. But never had she had to teach a child with the speech capability of a newborn babe how to pronounce words.

   To take out her anger on something, that would help things along, that would help her calm down enough to have the patience to make sure this foolish child wouldn't continue being an embarrassment. He wasn't even a noble child! There was no reward waiting for her at the end of this, except maybe to not be seen as an uncaring, long-lived other by the rest of this tiny village she'd decided to settle down in.

   With a whisper of her own anger, her fingers snapped as she thrust her hand out in the first bit of the dance necessary to cast her majicks. Her hands tracing graceful runes in the air, elbows and shoulders making sharper, more sinister runes, all while her gaze lingered on a tree she'd been considering removing for the past solar cycle. She felt the energy within her pulse, singing it's ephemeral song alongside her, before bursting out as a blast of wind and thunder.

   With a deafening crack, the tree fell over, and Ashela breathed a sigh of relief. She turned around to head back inside, when she realized she'd been followed, the boy was right there behind her. He'd watched her take out her anger using majicks. He had watched her cast a spell. 

   With unnerving speed, she shot her hand out, grabbing him by the neck and looking him in the eye. "You saw none of this, you will speak of it to nobody, understood?" She said threateningly, ears perked up and folded back in anger. He had tried to step back, and despite not understanding her, he nodded frantically. 

   "Good. We will continue your lessons inside, follow me." She said dropping him, heading back inside the house to try and figure out how to teach someone who couldn't even talk.

...

   Ao was partially in shock, hands still clutching his throat even as he watched his savior's retreating figure. He had just seen magic, real, true magic. He'd been saved by a honest to gods wizard, one who clearly didn't like to use magic publicly, but definitely could if she wanted to. Rubbing his throat one last time, he stood up and ran after her, wry smile plastered on his face.

   What was there to say? He just needed to learn how to speak, maybe then he could ask about magic too! The reality of magic being real only cemented one thing in his heart, he really had died.  He had truly been burned alive in that fire, and his loss of consciousness only cemented that.

   He popped his head in the door, looking around for where his savior was. Her threats, while indeed scaring him, weren't too serious in his mind. Especially considering the fact that he couldn't tell anyone what he saw, what he knew, even if he wanted to, Ao supposed she would come around eventually. That is, until he saw that she was currently reaching around one of her tables, trying to find something under her mess of papers, books, and strange looking objects.

   Ao could hear her voice rising in intensity and volume, her utter rage and bafflement superseded any any barrier to communication he could fathom. He took one hesitant step into the house, and then another. When he finally closed the door, the obnoxiously loud click echoed without a care.

   She wheeled on him, eyes containing a barely hidden fury and contempt, narrowing at the sight of him sneakily and bashfully standing before the closed door.