Chương 16: The Real Kobold

The copper-scaled kobold did not walk down the stairs as Mark expected. Instead he had squatted down on all fours leapt onto his desk and had then proceeded to leap from one desk to the next, going down each time one row of the concentric circles. It was a tremendous display of acrobatics. The humanoid dragon also decided to go down the stairs but by contrast, took the stairs at the side of the circular chamber in a slow deliberate manner.

Skarl landed on the desk row immediately above Mark and Wes and then hopped down to their level of the stone floor. He then proceeded to almost vibrate with hyperactivity once he landed. Skarl was slightly larger and more muscular than Mark. He had several scars marking his arms and face. The older ones had healed well enough that the replacement scales were only slightly discolored. However he had one extremely long and deep scar that ran from his jaw and dove below his collar which seemed far more recent.

The scales along that line were coming in smaller and seemed to not neatly fit together as well as the rest of his scales, and just in general not matching the healthy copper surrounding them. As Skarl landed, Mark's tongue instinctively flicked. The chemical sensation of dirt and moss predominated, but at this close of a range he could tell the kobold had eaten some type of fish and likely a few grasshoppers this morning. However a strange comforting feeling also washed over Mark.

It was almost like he sensed home from the kobold which disturbed Mark a bit. Underneath these smells he also caught the emotion from this kobold, which his kobold brain translated as grief. He didn't know how he could sense grief, but he could. It honestly felt as if he was invading the personal space of the kobold because it was clear he did not want to appear to be grieving. Mark had spent years learning to read grief through body language and the careful questions asked at the right time.

Apparently he still had those abilities but now had a much faster way to detect grief, but it was also far more intimate. Honestly far too intimate in Mark's mind. Chemoreception +1 Current Status: Chemoreception 5/100, Novice Yes, it is true you have been sensing emotions. Yes, this innate ability is perfect for someone with your memories. You still need eleven more points for Apprentice level. Last time Mark did not get commentary from the status deity.

Apparently this was enough of a breakthrough for the deity to take interest in Mark again.

"Hello-hello-hello!" The kobold spoke in Common but much faster than Mark's regular rhythm.

"This is Skarl Copperscale, yes-yes! You construct, yes-yes? Can tell by smell! Constructs smell like new stone and fresh magic, not like born kobolds who smell like earth and old-old warrens! Smell also rat breath. Guess rat eat-eat. What is name-name? How long live?" Mark was rather nervous about how to act around this authentic kobold. Especially since Mark still recalled Skarl calling him an it just a couple of minutes ago.

"I'm Makriss, Wes's familiar. I was just created yesterday." Skarl's eyes went wide.

"Yesterday! So new-new! Freshly-made!" Then his voice dropped and became more serious.

"And Makriss... you talk-talk. Are real-real? think-think? Makriss hollow? Going talk same over-over again-gin to Skarl?" Had Skarl been to the dimensional warren? Does he think since I'm a construct I'd be like those constructs?

"No, I'm real. I have thoughts and feelings, and I don't repeat the same line endlessly while waiting for you to say what I want you to say, if that's what you're worried about."

"Oh, thank stone and copper!" Skarl said with profound relief in his voice.

"You truly like me-me. Thought-thoughts! Feel-feel" Skarl tilted his head.

"Makriss speak odd-odd. Like human speech. Need to learn to let words spill-spill, repeat what matters! But you think! That good-good!" Code-switching? Is this kobold wanting me to code-switch with him? The humanoid dragon finally arrived after walking down all of the stairs.

"I'm Torvax Tanwen, first-year student" he said in a deep voice and was looking directly in between Wes and Mark likely intending to direct this to both of them.

"I'm Skarl's master. This is our first class, actually."

"Wes Durum," Wes said, offering his hand.

"Third-year. And this is my familiar, Makriss."

"Tessa Fairchild," Tessa added from her seat her tone friendly.

"I'm also a third-year. Welcome to the Academy."

"Thank you," Torvax said, shaking hands with Wes awkwardly. Then he studied Mark more carefully.

"Makriss. That's a Draconic name. It means fire-keeper. Did you choose that yourself?"

"Wes helped me," Mark said.

"We found it in the familiar naming registry."

"But you wanted a Draconic name specifically?"

"I... yes. It felt right somehow. I liked it better than anything else I saw" Torvax's expression shifted.

"A construct who chooses a Draconic name. Who speaks with intelligence. Who..." He turned to Skarl.

"I heard you say he talks like he has true feelings?

"Yes-yes!" Skarl said, bouncing on his toes.

"Nothing like dimensional kobolds. Nothing like at all-all!"

"Dimensional kobolds?" Tessa asked.

"Torvax bought dimensional pouch warren," Skarl explained.

"Thought good for me-me, remind me home-home. But went in and..." His enthusiasm dimmed like someone had thrown a switch.

"Was horrible. Kobolds there, yes-yes, but not real. Empty-empty. Smiled but nothing behind eyes-eyes. Skarl talk to them and say same things over-over-over. Puppets wearing kobold scales-scales. Skarl told Torvax, these not kobolds. These broken things. Thought all construct familiars like this. But you… You are real-real. Most familiars construct. Could not be familiar if all familiars like that." Skarl evidently was as distressed by the dimensional familiars as Mark was.

"Did yours pray to a Great Scaled Master?"

"Yes-yes!" Skarl said in surprise.

"Over-over.

'We exist to please, we grateful to serve, Great Scaled Master gives purpose.' Made Skarl scales itch. Wrong-wrong."

"So that isn't normal? Kobolds don't want to be slaves? They don't worship dragons like that?" Mark grinned a rather toothy smile. Skarl recoiled as if Mark had suggested something obscene, his entire body language shifting to horrified rejection.

"No! No-no-no! Not real kobold! That is construct. Real kobolds do not want to be slaves. Do not worship dragons like that-that."

"But some do, yes?" Torvax said.

"I've heard that many kobold warrens still have dragon guardians."

"Yes-yes!" Skarl admitted.

"There are warrens with dragon guardians, yes-yes. Some likely act that way-way. Worship master dragon, build shriney-shrines. Skarl heard stories. Skarl came from independent warren. Great respect for dragons, and maybe desires when around them..." He paused, considering his words.

"At least, Skarl assume. Skarl never actually seen dragon. Torvax and family are dragonkin, closest Skarl know, but Skarl no need to serve him-him. Not until became master. Where Skarl grew, no kobold build dragon shrine and pray like hollow ones. Unless fell and broke their head-head." So the praying in the warren wasn't universal kobold behavior. It was just terrible programming by a wizard's idea of what a kobold was, rather than what they actually were.

Mark was right thinking this dragon humanoid was a dragonkin. A traitorous part of him thought that he might have tolerated being called Ashfang by Wes if he had looked like a bodybuilding dragon man instead of a three-foot kobold with light sensitivity and rats on his breath.

"But familiars are supposed to like the dimensional warren," Wes said frowning.

"It's supposed to remind them of home. That's the whole point of the feature." Skarl turned to Wes with an irritated expression and showing a lot of teeth. Do I look like I'm going to bite someone every time I get mad? Geeze… I'm surprised Wes hasn't tried to put me in a muzzle yet.

"Maybe dumb construct it is like home-home, but real kobold or smart construct like Makriss?" He shook his head so strongly his whole body followed.

"No-no. Is nightmare! Is insult-insult! Things are not kobolds. They are happy pretend puppets."

"Let Torvax into warren so he could see-see. He saw how they cannot talk real, how empty puppets are. Fixed settings, made it more quiet-quiet. Less horrible. Still do not use much-much. How long Makriss in-in?

"Forty-five subjective hours."

"Forty-five?!" Skarl's copper eyes bulged.

"Forty-five hours with puppet-kobolds who cannot real talk-talk? Torture-torture! No wonder Makriss fearful when saw Skarl jumping down-down. Thought Skarl like that-that. That what Skarl feared Makriss. Glad wrong-wrong. You real kobold! Not just magic look like kobold! Just need to speak good-good!" Mark smiled despite himself. He liked Skarl, but really hoped friendship would not require adopting his style of Common.

"I like you, Skarl." He then directed his attention up to Wes.

"When we get back to your house, how about you see what I lived with? Change the settings back and you can see the glitching and hollowness all for yourself. Torvax was willing to see it for Skarl's sake. Wes's face went a bit pale.

"I... yes. I should see that." Just then Mark remembered the Draconic speech he had heard Skarl and Torvax speak with when alone.

"I heard you two speaking in the same language those puppets who were praying were chanting," Mark said to Skarl.

"When you first saw me coming through the door. I understood it. Is that…" The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement. Before Mark could finish saying the word Skarl finished his sentence.

"Draconic!" Skarl bounced again on his toes.

"Makriss speak Draconic!"

"All kobolds speak Draconic naturally," Wes said, as if this was obvious information he should have mentioned earlier.

"It's your native language. Even construct kobolds typically know it from the moment of their creation. I should have mentioned that earlier." Skarl was continuing to bounce, his enthusiasm undimmed.

"To understand already! That good-good! We can speak Draconic together!" From the front of the room, the raven's head tilted slightly toward their conversation, as if it were taking note of something interesting. Torvax was studying Mark with his reptilian gaze.

"A construct who is disturbed by seeing kobolds programmed to worship their servitude. Who chose a Draconic name. Who chose to wear clothing." He gestured to Mark's rough cloak with one clawed hand.

"You are unusual, Makriss. Very unusual."

"I just felt wrong being naked," Mark admitted.

"I couldn't explain why." Well that was a lie. He could, but not without getting himself and Wes in serious trouble.

"Most constructs do not care," Torvax said.

"They accept whatever their creator gives them." He glanced at Skarl consideringly.

"Skarl, you have old clothes, yes? From before the bond? They do not fit you anymore."

"Yes-yes," Skarl said, tugging at his formal vest with obvious discomfort.

"Since bonding, Skarl grew strength. Skarl bigger now-now. Old clothes small-small."

"Give some to Makriss," Torvax said, as if the matter were already settled.

"They'll run a little large but not excessively. He will probably grow into them over time. Kobold clothes are difficult to find in this city. That is why Skarl is dressed like he is attending a formal dinner rather than a classroom. Makriss what you are wearing works but you need more than one set of clothes." Skarl's eyes lit up with immediate enthusiasm.

"Yes! Skarl give clothes! Real kobold clothes. Makriss look city kobold now, but Skarl give warren clothes so you look real-real. Happy-happy old clothes have use-use!"

"Thank you," Mark said and meant it. Multiple sets of clothes from someone would be significantly better than wearing the same tunic and cloak every day. Although he did wonder what 'warren-clothes' would actually look like. Torvax was still staring at Mark.

"I expected that when I met construct familiars, it would be like what Skarl described. That they would be completely empty in soul, just a personality-less slave. Eventually they develop a personality over time. I am very pleasantly surprised." Then Torvax's vertical pupils went to Wes for a second before going back to Mark, and his voice dropped.

"Please tell me, little one. If you are ever treated poorly, your master and I will need to have a discussion." Torvax's suspicion of Wes felt excessive, but Mark was relieved that someone was thinking about his welfare.

"Wes has made mistakes," Mark said carefully.

"But he went out early this morning to find me clothes when he realized I would likely enjoy having them. He changed the warren settings when I told him it was miserable, and he has listened to me most of the time despite me often finding reasons to argue. I don't think he wants to mistreat me." Wes had a look of relief on his face after hearing what Mark had said.

"Makriss is everything I wanted. The last thing I'd ever want is a slave." Torvax seemed satisfied from what he heard.

"Good. Is there anything else Skarl or I can help you with, little one?"

"I don't know anything about being a kobold or acting like one. I know absolutely nothing about kobold culture here." Mark admitted, deciding honesty was the best approach here.

"Everything is confusing and I'm just trying to figure out what being a kobold even means."

"Skarl teach you!" Skarl said enthusiastically.

"How move quiet-quiet, treasure sorting, what kobold elders tell wyrmlings! But-but all customs not goody-good. Most kobold warrens don't trust other warren kobolds. Different warrens feud-feud. But that's nonsensey! We're kobolds! Should help-help each other! Skarl's warren believed not working together make all warrens weak-weak." Skarl's voice went quieter.

"Didn't help though-though. Still gone-gone."

"Gone?" Mark asked. Skarl was silent and started staring at his hands. His clawed hands flexed, opening and closing with unconscious tension. He took a breath and raised his head to continue. Skarl no longer seemed at all enthusiastic to speak but struggled to get words out and made many pauses.

"Trolls came six weeks. Skarl scouting… Came back and… Warren burning… Trolls everywhere… laughing killing kobold. So big-big, so strong-strong. Warren no chance. Skarl did try help. Got scar-scars." He pointed to the new incredibly deep scar that started on his jaw. Goldheart seemed to sense something was wrong, her tail stopping and dropped down rather than its usual enthusiastic motion.

"I am so sorry, Skarl. That is horrible. How many survived?" Mark asked.

"Twelve. Including Skarl-Skarl. Over two hundred dead... Seven of my eight clutch-kin died... My intended mate died defending hatchling chamber.

"Clutch-kin who lived, Rask, troll blade almost killed-killed. Master's father threw himself between Rask and troll. Why alive.. Tanwen dragonkin always friend of warren. Traded us for years. When trolls attacked, Master and father heard my people screams and came running. Too late for most. Not too late for some."

"I got this from troll blade." Skarl touched the jaw scar with careful fingers, and then pulled his collar aside with a shaking hand, revealing where the scar continued down his chest.

"Would die if Torvax had not found me-me." Tessa had been watching the way Skarl's hand kept returning to his collar while he talked. She quietly opened the small healer's pouch on her belt and set a small vial on the desk beside him. The vial itself looked as large as the pouch.

"Scale reformation tincture, for the regrowth. The tissue underneath needs to be healed or the new ones will come in misshapen. Apply this between the scales and this should be able to seep into the tissue."

"Skarl thanks you."

"So your clutch-kin survived?" Mark asked. He really hoped he'd be able to deduce what clutch-kin were without asking. Were they siblings?

"Yes. Barely. Rask took three weeks heal but not full-full. Couldn't stay at warren, bad memories, bring much pain. Skarl same. Rask in city now. Find work. Master Torvax father gave money for house. Ten stayed to rebuild warren. Rask and Skarl left. Cowards, other kobolds say-say." Before Mark could formulate a response, Goldheart wandered over and pressed her head against Skarl's leg, apparently unable to bear the sad voices any longer. Skarl tensed immediately.

"Friend," Goldheart said, looking up at Skarl.

"Friend sad." Skarl stared at the dog with confusion.

"You're... you're strange," Skarl said, looking slightly less tensed.

"Wolves and kobolds are natural enemies."

"FRIEND!" Goldheart insisted, obviously refusing to accept they were supposed to be natural enemies. Her tail wagged even harder.

"She was the kindest dog I ever saw before her elevation," Tessa said, watching Goldheart with a small smile.

"Elevation seemed to ramp her natural friendliness to the extreme. Perfect familiar for a healer!"

"FRIEND!" Skarl actually started petting the dog.

"Okay. Fine-fine. Friend-friend." Mark then realized that his tail was not directly behind him like he thought. Instead it had while Skarl was talking next to him migrated and was actually patting Skarl on the opposite side from Goldheart. As soon as Mark realized that his tail had been violating Skarl's personal space he quickly got control of it and was able to guide it back behind him.

"Makriss's tail shows feelings like wyrmling. It kind-kind, but need more control," Skarl said.

"Yeah, it's like having a mood ring attached to my spine."

"No understand this mood ring, but normal for wyrmling," Skarl said.

"Young kobolds, every emotion tail shows. Makriss felt Skarl sorrow wanted to help and tail tried-tried. Skarl teach Makriss control. Keep tail still-still when Makriss need to-to.."

"That would be incredibly helpful. Right now it's just broadcasting my emotional state to everyone in a twenty-meter radius." The conversation had went way away from the grief, but Mark wanted to help out in what little way he could.

"Skarl you said the ones who stayed to rebuild called you a coward for leaving?"

"Yes," Skarl whispered.

"Do you believe them?" Skarl's claws opened and closed.

"Sometimes. When it is dark-dark and I cannot sleep."

"What do you think staying would have looked like for you?"

"Skarl think-think fall apart. Every tunnel. Skarl saw death-death all in warren. Do Makriss think leaving right-right?"

"I think the ones who stayed needed to rebuild to survive, and I think you needed to leave to survive." A pause.

"Different people carry grief differently. Neither is wrong." Skarl was quiet for a while before continuing.

"Makriss sound like know this. Words good-good. Better if doubled but good-good." A sharp crackling sound interrupted before Mark could respond drawing everyone's attention upward. On a rafter above, a small red creature staring at a cobweb was perched. Small flames flickered around the creature's claws. Next to the cobweb hung a banner that probably had a reason for being there. Mark's tongue flickered out toward the rafter. Brimstone.

This familiar was what he had sensed when he had that sulfurous sensation before. Was this a demon? Below the rafter, a sandy-haired young man had his wand out before the flames left the creature's claws.

"Ember, no. Ember, that banner is likely important. Ember, you're going to get us both into trouble!" The creature suddenly chittered and sent out a small flame towards the cobweb. The young man concentrated at the flames as they hit the cobweb and suddenly a large ball of water formed at the cobweb and the flames were extinguished before they could spread. A lot of the water did end up falling down to drench the desk in front of the sandy-haired young man.

After performing this magic the student appeared even more tired. The creature stopped chittering and then flew down from the rafter in a spiral. It landed on the student's shoulder, and nuzzled against his neck with clear affection. The student's expression softened despite his obvious frustration, one hand coming up to pat the creature's head.

"That imp-imp," Skarl said, "Innate fire magic but wild-wild. Why would anyone choose familiar to be imp-imp?"

"Fire magic," Tessa said.

"Imps are powerful for fire-based ritual work."

"But they are demon," Torvax said directing his disapproval at the sandy-haired student.

"What did you expect? Use a ritual to create an innate fire-magic creature, and most outcomes are demonic. Obviously nothing demonic will be obedient. You are a foolish wizard." The sandy-haired student grimaced at the dragonkin.

"And good morning to you too, Mr. Dragonkin. I don't think of myself as foolish, but you may be right. My mother had a phoenix familiar, and my parents both recommended to get a familiar with fire magic affinity hoping I'd get lucky and get a phoenix as well. Well no phoenix but I did get this little guy instead." He glanced at the creature nuzzling his neck.

"Very different than a phoenix, but he has his charm at times. I'm Finneas Hartwick, by the way. Second-year. This little imp is Ember."

"Nice to meet you Finneas! My name is Tessa. This person next to me is Wes, and the dragonkin who called you foolish is named Torvax. How long have you had Ember?"

"Right around three weeks," Finneas said.

"Haven't slept properly since he was created, but I'm really excited for this class. Hopefully I'll finally learn how to control Ember. I really need some sleep." The way he said that made Mark wonder if he was basically in obedience school.

"Is that what this class is? For masters to be taught how to control familiars?"

"Part of it," Tessa said.

"Professor Thornwhistle teaches pretty much everything there is to know about familiars here. There is some obedience training for familiars who have trouble following instructions but I think most of that instruction is in optional classes outside of this one."

"Obedience training. Oh that is so needed." Finneas said.

"I'll definitely need extra sessions because Ember is so difficult. Hopefully he won't need much obedience magic on him." Mark was rather horrified at the thought of magical brainwashing which was yet another horror he was being confronted with.

"Please tell me if they try other non-magical things first to help with their behavior? They shouldn't just force magic to brainwash familiars to be obedient."

"Hopefully there are other things. I desperately need help though," Finneas said.

"But obedience magic is very rough. From what I've heard it can take pieces of a familiar's personality. Ember is destructive, but I don't want him hollowed out just because I need sleep." Mark looked up at Wes.

"So the class teaches you how to control your familiar. How to make them obey."

"I don't want you to always obey me, Makriss. Like I've said before it's all about partnership," Wes said.

"Learning to work together…" Learning to work together was one way to put it. Another way was that this institution had formalized the process of making sapient beings compliant. Through Knowledge, Dominion indeed.