Sostra. A grand city built atop a swamp, full of people and life. The heart of an empire.
It was to the rumbling sounds of cart traffic outside that Atzi awoke. Even in the shantytown in which she lived, she could hear their comings and goings across the distant busy streets.
“Blugeh…”
The stream of sunlight from her poorly made wooden roof told her it was the afternoon.
Atzi didn’t want to wake up yet, but just like every other day, she was forced awake by things outside her control. Stupid sun, if you weren’t so warm, she thought. But you were warmer back home.
Atzi slowly pulled herself up, dropping off the scratchy shawl that made for her blanket, and gave a big yawn. Her red hair lay limp on her face.
Scratching between her dark silver-blue scales, she thought, I should eat… no, get a drink.
She heard a clucking noise outside.
What the hells’ that noise?
Atzi rose, peering out through the tiny shack’s singular window - really more of a square hole.
It was a chicken, scratching at swampy mud, looking for worms.
She leaned out her window and hissed at it with everything she could muster. Splatters of her saliva mixed with poison went flying. The chicken ran off bawking, fleeing further into the poor muddy streets.
Annoying, she thought. She was hungry. Sleepy. Most of all, bored. Things had been so boring these past few years.
If only she had another chance-
Atzi shuffled over to the pillar of wood that supported her roof. There laid all else she owned, a single outfit and an empty coin pouch. She grabbed her fraying linen pants and stepped into them, only taking care to position her tail and stick it through the hole. The fabric strained where it met the base. Stupid clothes must have shrunk in the heat, she thought.
Then she took her shirt in her claws and threw it on. Only after she got dressed did she run her claws through her messy hair, naturally avoiding her two small horns as she styled herself into something vaguely ‘neat’.
Decent, she slinked outside. Peering left and right, the coast looked clear.
“Greetings of the Saintess, neighbor!”
Atzi groaned.
She had known this guy for as long as she’d lived in this shack. Well, known was a strong word. Mostly he just talked religion, and she didn’t even know his name. The one thing she did know about him was that he had a real job, at which he made real money, and the only reason he lived in the slums was he always donated all his money to the Saintess’s temple.
What a sucker. Who would want to live there if they could live in a nice place? Weirdo!
“Yeah, yeah, saintess.” Atzi responded, groggily.
Her neighbor smiled at her, his arms folded into his cheap robe sleeves. “Are you excited for the upcoming godscouncil?” He asked, green eyes glinting.
“The festival? Yeah, ‘course. Everyone is.” Atzi dug a clawed toe into the mud, wanting nothing more than to escape the conversation. Well, and food, and beautiful women, and-
“No no, not the festival! That’s just something people put on. The council is what matters.”
Yeah right. The gods are too scary and powerful to care about any of us. You’re just scammed by the priestesses! Even if they are pretty. “Sure.”
He leaned forward and put a hand to his mouth, as though giving a great secret. “All the gods will be here for the election. Also, I hear every god’s temple will be choosing new priests among the faithful. I hope the Saintess chooses me.”
She gave a fake smile. “Yeah, I hope she chooses you, too.” And I never need to deal with you again!
He bowed slightly. “Thank you for your kindness. May the Saintess bless you!” His smile was bright and wide as he wandered off.
“Thank the fucking Saintess,” Atzi muttered. Who could actually enjoy worshipping something so far beyond us? Haven’t done me any favors.
She slinked onward. She was still hungry, but the conversation had her wanting a drink already.
It was then she heard a frenzied clucking.
Atzi glanced over towards the direction she’d seen the chicken run. She thought, Is the stupid thing following me?
Cluck cluck cluck! A chaotic flock of chickens sprinted towards her!
Panicked, she yelped and fled down the street. “Stupid birds!”
“Damned things, get back here!” Chasing the chickens was a dark-haired man. Though he looked more like a boy, no older than his teens, and covered in dirt. An unlucky chicken farmer.
As Atzi ran, she thought, If this guy’s chasing them… maybe if I catch some he’ll let me keep one. A fresh chicken all to myself!
Atzi spun around, sliding to a halt.
She snatched her claws and coiled her tail towards the feathered beasts. Five of the six ended up in her clutches, two in each claw and one in her tail. Captured, they immediately became docile. Tamed by fear. The last one angrily pecked at her foot, painless from her scales.
This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
Atzi shouted with pride, “Stupid birds!”
The chicken farmer caught up with her, panting. “Oh thank the gods.”
Atzi looked up at him, cursing that she was shorter than even someone so young looking.
“I caught your chickens. That was really nice of me, wasn’t it?” asked Atzi.
“Yeah, yeah, real nice.” He reached towards his back and pulled off a large sack. He fluffed it open and placed the chicken still pecking at Atzi’s foot into it. “In the sack.”
You better not cheap out me! She deposited the chickens in her claws. The farmer looked up at her. Atzi swished the one still wrapped up in her tail from side to side, enticingly. “I’m really hungry… especially after catching all those chickens…”
He sighed. “Well, at least you didn’t try to extort me for them.” He dug into his pocket and flipped Atzi a single bronze coin.
Yes!
Atzi snatched the coin out of the air, grinning. She uncoiled her tail from ‘round the final chicken, and it began running away once more. “Hey!” The farmer yelled.
Atzi wasn’t listening, already dancing her way towards the market streets for a meal.
Maybe some pork chops. Or roasted beetle kebab! With beer! She salivated as she walked. When Atzi was excited, so were her poison glands, spurting through her mouth and mixing with her drool. Her purple-tinted saliva sizzled against gravel and mud.
There was a point just between the market street and the slums, where the careful stonework of most of Sostra collapsed into loose limestone chunks, embedded in the mud. Atzi stepped claw over claw up the slanted stone, traveling with all the poor people. I’m not poor, just not rich yet.
Just thirty more feet, the shortest jaunt, and she would be in the market proper.
Atzi took a ninety degree turn towards her favorite gambling hall.
Doubling my earnings is so smart. Then I can eat two hot meals! Atzi thought, confidently striding in.
The place was much nicer than the slums. Most importantly, the woodwork held together. There were only a few people present, as like most places like this, it would become more active in the evening and night.
Atzi approached the dark wooden front desk, giving a toothy grin to Sphira, mistress of the gambling hall.
Sphira smiled back politely, even as she wore the dead eyes of someone all too used to customers. Her black dress accented her curves. She looked pretty good for a middle-aged woman, in Atzi’s estimate. When I’m rich, maybe we could…
“Hello, Atzi. Come to try your luck?” Sphira asked, brushing a strand of dyed red hair behind her ear.
Is she into me?
Atzi laughed. “Of course. Is there a dice game going?”
Sphira pointed to a low corner table. Atzi appreciated the grace with which she did so.
“Thanks,” Atzi said. Maybe she is into me. Maybe this time I really go for it and try- wait, no, I haven’t bathed in ages, there’s no way. But next time, definitely next time.
Atzi stalked over to the table, glancing at the two people present. There was Frank of course, the large-in-all-senses dealer. Hate that stupid ‘Oh I’m so sorry you lost everything’ act he does. Jokes on you buddy, this time I’m winning!
He sat shaking dice in a cup for a single woman… wearing a city guard’s outfit.
Atzi froze up, inspecting the guardswoman from afar. Is she anyone important? she thought.
She had short black hair and a few scars. Retired military or adventurer, then. She was too young to have been in the war, though, looking about Atzi’s age.
Atzi continued moving so she didn’t look suspicious. It''d been years, so she doubted any regular guard would know her face. The reward wasn''t enough to sit and memorise her face from the posters, but she''d pissed off some of the higher-ups enough that she couldn''t risk being seen by them. She walked slowly as she turned over their faces in her mind.
No, she doesn''t look like anyone I know. She approached with her head low, just in case. Besides, it’s just one game. Then I’ll have one more coin and can walk away a winner.
Atzi sat down as Frank tossed two dice under the cup, shook the cup around in his hands, and then slapped the cup on the table. “Even or odds?” he asked towards the guardswoman.
“Odds!” the guardswoman shouted. She stared intently at the cup.
Atzi slid her coin across the wooden table, to place a bet of her own, but Frank held out a hand to stop her. She wiggled in her cushion impatiently. Hurry up, then!
The dealer lifted the cup. Two singular dots. Snake eyes.
“Sorry,” Frank meekly apologized to the guardswoman as he scooped up the three bronze in front of her.
“Godsdamnit!” the guardswoman cursed. Her scarred cheek twitched in annoyance.
Atzi rolled her eyes. What a sore loser.
“Odds on next,” said Atzi, sliding forward her coin again. C’mon seven, my lucky number! She saw it all the time when she played this game, so it had to be. Her tail swished behind her excitedly. She had to wipe a dribble of poison from her lip so she wouldn’t be yelled at again, smearing it against her other arm.
The guard flicked out three more bronze coins. She looked beside her, giving Atzi a scowl and stink-eye. “Odds,” she said as well.
Atzi gave an awkward, stilted laugh, avoiding the guardwoman’s gaze. She thought, Just an ordinary lizard, don’t mind me.
Frank gave a gentle smile. “Let’s see if you’re both lucky.” He tossed the dice into the cup and shook it again.
Atzi gripped the edge of the table as she trailed the motion of the cup up and down. She didn’t just want to avoid looking at the guard, she didn’t just want to win, but she wanted to be on the lookout for any tricks. She thought she knew every scam there was, and refused to fall for one herself.
Only idiots get cheated.
Frank lifted the cup. A five and one.
“Oooof.” Frank shook his head sorrily.
Atzi’s expression dropped. “M-my hot meal…”
The guardswoman grunted in annoyance.
Frank collected the coins quickly, looking pained as he swept away Atzi’s hot meal. If you’re so sorry, then give it back! I need to eat, damn it!
She couldn’t argue, though. Besides the fact she knew it wouldn’t get her anywhere, there was a scary looking private guard leaning against a distant wall. If she caused a disturbance, she could end up injured. Plus, what if this bitch tells her bosses about me? she thought about the guard next to her. With no other choice, Atzi groaned and stood up.
As she slinked away, she overheard the guardswoman say, “Great, now that my bad luck charm is gone-”
Atzi wanted to explode at her. I''m not a bad luck charm! I just got unlucky! It’s not my fault! Instead she kept silent. Now what am I gonna do for food? I guess steal something…
She barely heard Sphira wish her a good day as she walked outside.
The Sostrian Empire had nine gods. Only one was really in charge. The same stupid one Atzi’s stupid neighbor wouldn’t shut up about. The Saintess.
“Fuck you, Saintess!” Atzi shouted, middle finger lifted in the direction of her temple, the religious district raised higher than the rest of Sostra.
Passersbies pointedly ignored her. Blasphemy wasn’t illegal, just taboo. Most wouldn’t tempt fate. Atzi wouldn’t either on a usual day, but today… she was sick of it all.
I’m grabbing the biggest coin pouch I see.