Always yourself, Part I

Two years ago.

Betta's smile glistened over the light of the campfire.

"That's an adorable Triple Jelly, Cory." With a slick motion, she tossed her cards face-up on the sand. "But my Shark Quartet finds that a tasty snack, gah ha ha!"

And she wins yet another round…

"Wow, Betta, you're on a roll tonight. It's hard to believe you're playing fair."

She eyed Oscar. "So what? You implying I'm cheating or something?"

"Eh? No? What gave you that idea?"

A snicker escaped her. "Nevermind. I forgot who I was talking with. Anyway, you two had enough ass-whoopings or you wanna go for another round?"

"One more," I said. "You can't keep getting away with this. Your luck has to run out eventually."

"That's what I like to hear."

"Ehem." At some point, Jacks had sneaked up next to me. "Sorry to interrupt your fun, kids, but it's getting late. Need I remind you we're going to be fighting the world's strongest Cursed tomorrow?"

"Well, the bar isn't that high." Oscar's remark made me smile—yet another innocently offensive comment.

"We were just about to have our last game. Wanna play?"

"Really, Betta? You're asking me to join you in a gambling game?" Jacks cracked his knuckles. "You better be ready because I'm going to drink at your expense for a month."

"Hah, you wish. Tonight's my best roll in years. If you beat me you'd have wasted all the luck for the rest of your life, old man."

ᗢ᠃ ⚘ ˚ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ 𖦹 ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘᠃ ♡

The next day.

Betta was crying.

The nigh-invincible and borderline savage woman—the firmest person I knew—trembled, wailed and thrashed like a newborn. Her right arm hung limp at her side and the blood running down her brow mixed with the tears.

Those wounds weren't the source of her agony; they weren't even a factor.

Her other hand squeezed the fabric of his clothes under the broken shards of armor. From time to time she'd shake him, trying to wake him up—and mutely beg for him to do so.

But Jacks wouldn't heed her plea.

The veteran who had answers for any question, a solution for every conflict and was the only man I knew who could make Betta smile on a daily basis, now lay down unmoving.

My tears had dried a while ago, and even Oscar had calmed down and started helping me treat my wounds the traditional way.

She continued sobbing uncontrollably. Every glance I took her way threatened to collapse me into a weep. I was done crying for Jacks for now, yet felt a need—almost a responsibility—to cry for her too. It was debilitating to see Betta of all people break down like this.

Jacks…

His face was peaceful, as if he was taking a nap—his wounds didn't even look that serious.

Because they weren't. Normally I could've stopped the bleeding and delayed the death for several hours, more than enough to recover my strength and properly heal him. If only I hadn't panicked about Oscar and saved some stamina for Jacks.

This was my fault—not only because I failed at my one task—but because Jacks wouldn't have even gotten hurt if I…

If I had done my one job.

I'd wavered when I had the chance to lock the Cursed King for Oscar to give the finishing blow. Instead, his attack failed because of me, leaving Oscar himself wide open. Jacks protected him with his body and both got pierced by the same weapon: a stone spear formed from the ground itself.

Because the Cursed King could use magic. Her species were the only non-human creatures who could.

Yes, it was so so dumb of me to hesitate in a fight against such a powerful being.

But she'd hesitated too. Right after her strike on Oscar and Jacks, when Betta screamed her lungs out and I collapsed on my knees. My stupor was such that I didn't see the claw until it was right next to my face.

I was dead. I knew it for certain. My head should've flown off right then and there.

But it didn't. The armored limb stopped and I saw my tear-smeared face reflected on it. Then Betta crashed into the Cursed King, landing the finishing blow through the cracks we'd made in her shell.

Two deaths, perhaps both of them avoidable.

In the dimly lit cave, during the gaps between Betta's weepings, a thin streak of water echoed—dripping from the cracked ceiling. The sound came from the drops spattering on the corpse of a creature everyone feared more than a natural disaster.

A creature that didn't look horrifying enough to be called a monster. She was bigger than any person, though not by an insane amount—perhaps slightly smaller than a medium-tier Cursed.

Her lower half had only two pairs of legs instead of the usual four, above which grew a torso with two limbs resembling arms. Each of them ended in a pincer, yes, but they were split in three parts that could move independently to join the single lower claw, like a group of fingers and a thumb.

Then there was her head, which extended from what looked like shoulders and a neck. Her jaw was sectioned in multiple mouthparts, but she had a pointy nose, round ears and her eyes were socketed inside the face instead of sticking out like antennae. And the look of those eyes… the luster they had included a hint of blue rather than the pure blackness of other Cursed. It was such a human shine.

Was her species trying to resemble humans? Or were they distant ancestors of ours? Perhaps the Divines themselves had made them similar to us for a reason.

Whatever the explanation, I'd likely never get to know it.

I stood up.

"Dori? Where are you going?"

"A walk."

"I'll come with you," he tried to get up but fell under his own weight.

"You rest. I'll be fine. There are no other Cursed near the King's territory."

"O-okay, but don't wander far."

With a nod, I proceeded down one of the paths that led deeper, rather than head outside for fresh air.

During my sluggish saunter, the Cursed King… the Cursed Queen, plagued my thoughts like a dream I couldn't wake out of. She'd killed Jacks and almost got all of us too—yet I couldn't find in myself even a hint of resentment.

There were just so many details that were off; so many hints that had we just approached this situation differently, violence could've easily been avoided.

Had I been more adamant about not fighting her, perhaps—no, surely—Jacks would've been alive right now.

A few rays of light illuminated the cave through openings in the ceiling, tinting this section with a warm hue, unlike the blacker entrance where we'd battled—which looked as gloomy as one would expect from the lair of something evil.

This section, by contrast, could even be called cozy. I sat on a nearby rock and observed the ways the light reflected on the strata in the walls. Most of it was a dull grey or brown, but by looking keenly, it was possible to distinguish some hints of purple or green, set in a wave-like pattern.

… No, those weren't layers of minerals.

I walked closer to that particular wall and examined it. Some substance had been spread over it. Plants? Maybe those spiky ones that grew around the desert.

But why are they smeared over the wall in random patterns? It's almost as if…

As if the wall had been painted, decorated, by someone.

I looked down—at the foot of this colorful wall sat a tiny pond of water. It didn't drip from anywhere, so it was hard to believe this could be a natural formation.

Half submerged in it lay a fist-sized egg.

A single one.

Not the hundreds regular Cursed laid according to the White Crab Kin. Just one. Similar to how humans had few offspring at a time.

And something told me that, like human babies, this one wouldn't survive if left alone.

…

What am I even thinking?

Am I really considering this?

It was just another Cursed. I'd seen thousands of them die, some of them killed by my own hand.

This one shouldn't be any different.

The best thing to do would be to raise my foot and crush it with a stomp. It would be over in an instant. The unborn creature wouldn't even know it got denied its chance at life.

ᗢ᠃ ⚘ ˚ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ 𖦹 ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘᠃ ♡

We spent the night outside the cave. Black sky above and white sand below. Betta skipped dinner; Oscar and I ate in silence—and the egg was hidden in a sack next to me. Half full of water but open to the air. I had to stay aware of it and subtly prevent Oscar or Betta from noticing.

Even with what the White Crab Kin had told me about the way they cared for their Cursed, I barely had any idea of what I was doing.

Supposedly, lesser and medium Cursed needed to be incubated in the sea with a constant flow of new water. Greater ones were more resilient and could do without any water at all, but required warmth and high humidity. This one on the other hand was in a pond of stagnant freshwater and only half sunken, so I couldn't know for sure how similar this species' care would be. For now, I did my best to keep it in conditions similar to the state I found it in.

Hopefully at least its diet would be similar to regular Cursed.

Which was to say they could eat just about anything, be it plant or animal.

If I was lucky, its needs might even turn out to be more similar to humans than Cursed. I wasn't an expert in that field either, but I at least had better points of reference.

We killed your mother, little one.

I know it doesn't make sense to apologize for something that we… that I did willingly.

But I'm sorry.

And I hope that you can at least live a more peaceful life than her, even though I know that's wishful thinking.