Lily's story

“The first important thing to know is, where the beast people come from.” Lily started her tale, staring forlornly into the empty space of the ice cave.

“About four hundred years ago a disease emerged in the lands south of the Midlansea, probably coming from the jungles of Ghrûne. It only targeted humans and many died a painful and agonizing death. But those who survived were struck by a fate even more cruel than that: The disease painfully and agonizingly twisted and transmorphed their bodies into a new shape, the shape of the beastkin.”

She fell silent and I was at a loss of words too. But I could now suspect at least some part of her tragic backstory.

“The disease is called ‘Wildeath’, because it kills humans regardless of their survival: either through death by organic failure, or by transforming them into beasts who don’t resemble humans anymore. To most humans they are dead either way.”

She paused again before continuing.

“Wildeath is apparently transmitted through bodily fluids and highly contagious. It spread quickly and unstoppably through the human lands, leading to severe collapses of several kingdoms in its wake. Of course society adapted, countermeasures were applied, but the disease never lost its grip of fear on people. It spread slower, sure, and outbreaks got contained quicker, but nobody could, and to this day nobody can cure this horrific plague. Once you are infected, it is a certain ‘death’ sentence in the eyes of the public, even if you survive.”

The last word she spoke with special bitterness.

“I once was the heiress of a noble family in the kingdom of Quan.” she continued.

“We had a castle on the edge of the central highlands, although the sea of Quan was often visible on the horizon. Our lands were extensive, but sparsely populated and consisted mostly of wilderness and bare rock. Just a few small villages clung to the edge of the highlands and some scattered settlements and farms further up in the mountains. And in one of these small settlements deep in the wilderness occurred a severe outbreak of Wildeath when I was young.”

She now addressed me more directly.

“You have to understand, an outbreak of Wildeath is not like an outbreak of the flu or lung fever, that comes and goes with the seasons. Wildeath is slower, first not recognizable with only a few victims, but once it gets a hold, it clungs viscously. The only really effective countermeasure is to isolate its victims as consistently as possible.”

I nodded and shuddered at the same time. ‘Social distancing’ was a dreadful term during the pandemic I had experienced (for me, I have to admit, it was like heaven!), but I read how rigorous the quarantine was handled for instance during the plague in the middle ages, where the sick were sometimes literally walled in!

“Despite the fear it induced in most people, there were still some who overcame it, tended to the ill and helped them to survive the dangerous high fever phase where most infected succumb to the illness. I was one of them, foolish and idealistic at my age of seventeen.”

I knew what had to come next.

“Of course I got infected, although not in the same way as most other nurses. Usually they come into contact with saliva or blood from their charges, but I was cautious and escaped that fate. My downfall was my inexperience with politics. I tried to mediate between the humans in the settlement and the small colony of beast people in the forests - you may have guessed by now that it consisted of the former, now transformed settlers. The two groups heavily antagonized each other, but I saw - foolishly! - the potential for a friendly collaboration. Because you see: once the disease has run its course and the victim survives transformed, it's no longer contagious. And beast people can’t be infected anew or infect other people, so they’d be the best nurses you could dream of.”

She drew a heavy breath.

“But the uninfected settlers were unbelievably stupid and only ruled by fear! And the beast people were bitter to no end to have been treated by their next friends, neighbours, families, with such hostility and banned to tend and survive for themselves in the wild. I tried what I could, but failed miserably.”

She closed her eyes for a moment.

“I will not recount all my efforts to negotiate and to build a mutual understanding. Because you see: I understood both parties, their behaviour, their fears, their anger, their disappointment, their reluctance. At least I thought I did. What I didn’t take into account was their endless stubbornness that was impervious to all arguments and reasons. And I paid a heavy price.”

Her eyes were open again, glassy, looking deep into a long gone and buried past.

“There was a battle. The beast people from the forest attacked the village and I was heavily wounded. That’s where I must’ve been infected. I got transported back to my home castle in shame, having failed where I boasted I would succeed. I succumbed to a high fever, got delirious, and when I came back to my senses I found myself in a cell in the deepest dungeon under the castle, the first changes already underway.”

Her eyes got a haunted look when she again addressed me directly.

“Do you know what it means to feel your humanity slowly slipping away? Do you know how it feels, the raging fire of change deep in your flesh down to the core of your bones? Do you know how it feels, seeing your limbs slowly growing, twisting and contorting, your skin becoming coarse, getting covered by hair and fur, your teeth coming loose, falling out and being painfully replaced by the fangs of a predatory beast? Can you imagine feeling your nails coming loose, underneath the deadly claws of a monster already underway, pushing through your flesh and replacing all signs of civilisation and culture? But that’s still not the worst!”

Her gaze swung back to the forlorn, unfocused stare into a dark void.

“Your senses sharpen, and with that comes the awakening, or better reawakening of animal instincts you never knew you ever possessed. A deep hunger is gnawing at you, because the change needs a lot of energy and you are growing your fare share. Can you imagine I once was just a petite five foot seven? Now I’m over seven feet!”

She looked at me again.

“I never knew hunger can get so …primal! And that’s where my father sinned in an unforgivable way, but I sinned too.”

A deep, deep sigh.

“I got enough to drink, but nothing to eat, until some day,” she closed her eyes, and for the first time her voice quivered, “they pushed another poor soul, a delinquent into my cell. I was starved beyond imagination, and the beast in me took over. I killed the man and …ate him…”

She paused and I tried to comprehend what I was hearing. She was right. I couldn’t even begin to imagine what she had been going through! Timidly I laid my hand on her furry arm in hope it might feel at least a little bit comforting for her. She didn’t seem to mind.

“When I came back to my senses I was beyond devastation,” she continued in a flat voice, “and I felt a rage and hatred beyond anything I thought I would ever be capable of. My father not only acted like a monster, he forced this role onto me too, his youngest child, his earlier sunshine, his most beloved he could never deny any wish! I couldn’t understand how the same person, a parent, my father, was capable of the most love and the most cruelty against the very same person!”

She closed her eyes again.

“There were times I wanted to die, where I hoped to die from the disease, where I was willing to take my life. But I don’t know if it was defiance or cowardice that let me live. I could never bring myself to lay hands on me, even in the darkest moments.”

She paused shortly, but I didn’t dare to interrupt.

“Time went by and the change continued. I don’t know how many sidehs or randas I was imprisoned, just that my father regularly sent prisoners down there for me to devour. I ate them all, except for the last one. This one was lucky, because my change was finished and I wasn’t starved anymore. I also had better control over my instincts, but the hatred against humankind and its unkindness burned in me like a bonfire. It took all my willpower not to snap his neck just because he was human. Only the thought that I would not do the dirty work for my father anymore saved him.”

For the first time she smiled, but it was not a happy smile.

“Despite my ‘good intentions’ I don’t know if the hunger, once it was growing again, wouldn’t have gotten the better of me. But again he was in luck, no, we both were: a miracle happened.”

Her smile deepened.

“A volcano nearby erupted catastrophically. A fire cloud engulfed the castle, burning everything flammable to cinders, knocking down walls and killing everybody inside except for two people: me and my cellmate. The deep, damp dungeon protected us just enough from the infernal heat to survive. And without the guards spying on us we could slowly and painfully dig ourselves out.”

When she opened her eyes they were clear and focused again.

“My cellmate was a scholar, a wise man, unfortunately a victim of shortsighted politics. We left the kingdom of Quan never to look back or to return. We went north to try our luck in the Tóràya and, well, that’s it! Here I am.”

“What happened to your former cellmate?” I asked, feeling uneasy about this question.

Lily shook her head, sadly.

“He didn’t survive very long. He went mad from all his suffering from before and I had to bury him, before we even arrived in Tóràbun.”

“How were you treated there?”

“I had luck again.” she admitted. “I helped some adventurers who were cornered by a horde of wilderbeasts, and they in turn helped me to gain access to the adventurers guild. Many beast people actually land there, because that's where their talents are most appreciated and prejudice is at its lowest. In human lands that is.”

I nodded, still processing what I’ve heard.

“Well, thank you for trusting me so much.” I finally said. “I will treat your story with the utmost discretion.”

“Thank you for listening, Vilém. And thank you for understanding!” she answered hoarsely and took my hand into her giant paw.

“Please, call me Vilko.” I simply replied.