An egg has been laid. It is not a good egg. It is a bad egg. It is shameful; it will bring disaster and regret. So it was given to a mysterious man who said that he would break it, so that good people wouldn't have to get their hands dirty.
The mysterious man has not broken the egg. Instead, he has placed it gently under a bush in a public park. It is warm and safe.
It hatches, and bad and shameful things happen.
The inhabitant of the egg, a bad and shameful creature, gnaws on a stick, unaware of her nature or her crimes. Her wings, bright red and still damp from her hatching, drag behind her over the ground like a bloody flag.
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shren (n) bad and shameful creature
Anastasia Koskin
power-in-motion
A silver-haired woman in a state of some distress finds her.
A few ticks later, her discoverer scoops her up and teleports her to the bottom of the world, where she hands the baby to her husband and teleports away again.
A few ticks later, her discoverer scoops her up and teleports her to the bottom of the world, where she hands the baby to her husband and teleports away again.
Now he has two little scaly babies to hold, one silver, one...
"Garnet, aren't you?" he murmurs to the hatchling.
"Garnet, aren't you?" he murmurs to the hatchling.
The hatchling focuses mainly on protecting her stick, but takes a moment to see if the other scaly baby can be nibbled.
Nibbling the other scaly baby is a successful venture. It produces a meep.
(Karindal watches, ready to separate them if this turns into a non-playful altercation.)
(Karindal watches, ready to separate them if this turns into a non-playful altercation.)
This one will keep things playful as long as the other one does; if he decides to escalate, she will retaliate accordingly. She is familiar with the works of Sun Tzu, thank you very much. (No she is not.)
Meeping is not a form of escalation, so she retaliates with meeping of her own. This is fun, these mouth-noises she can make now. They are good mouth-noises.
Meeping is not a form of escalation, so she retaliates with meeping of her own. This is fun, these mouth-noises she can make now. They are good mouth-noises.
The silver baby makes more mouth-noises at her. Meep meep burble.
The silver baby's father smiles.
The silver baby's father smiles.
...Meeping is fun, but it loses its nonviolent shine fairly quickly. She whacks her new friend with one of those weird useless appendages she has.
This produces an affronted meep. (The silver baby excels at affrontedness. It is one of her specialties.)
Affront is irrelevant! Meeping is insufficiently interesting! The hatchling strikes again, nipping with somewhat increased force.
The silver baby climbs her father in search of escape from this strange rude creature.
The red baby takes a considering look at the large creature before her, and concludes that she should not antagonize it, because it could probably punt her across the room.
She nips at it anyway. Bad and shameful she may be, but let it never be said that this small violent creature is cowardly.
She nips at it anyway. Bad and shameful she may be, but let it never be said that this small violent creature is cowardly.
The large creature does not appear antagonized. He allows the red baby to nibble him and the silver baby to perch on his head.
Meanwhile:
Alesricandelrevinal and Solsaharelvizanemlikalrat sit quietly at home. They are not quite in mourning, but they are rather disheartened. They have not yet tried for another egg; they may, in a few more months, but at the moment they're mostly just sitting about.
"Did you see the scores from the scoot race the other day?" ventures Solsa.
"Yes," replies Ales. "It's nice to see that halfling girl making her way up the rankings, isn't it?"
"Oh, she seems like a lovely girl. I'm sure her parents must be-" She breaks off. "Well, she's a lovely girl."
Ales sighs and pats her gently on the arm. "We'll get it right, some day. We've got hundreds of years to try."
Alesrican gets a call from her line rep.
It seems the dragon council wants to know if anyone has misplaced a garnet striped egg recently.
"Someone left a striped garnet egg lying in a public park. A baby parunia was infected. The council will want to know everything you can remember about this... individual."
There is the quiet sound of a woman fainting dead away.
Alesrican, in a very small voice, says "I can tell you whatever you need to know."
Alesrican, in a very small voice, says "I can tell you whatever you need to know."
Her rep extracts all available information, which isn't much, and passes it on to the council. The council requests a few clarifications and elaborations, then leaves them alone.
Anastasia Koskin
power-in-motion
Althra finally makes it back down to the bottom of the world.
"We're going to need somewhere to live," says Karindal.
"I..." Althra looks at the babies, and looks at her husband, and sighs. "Yes. Of course. I'm sorry."
"And... what did you find out, about the garnet's parents...?"
"They were going to smash the egg, but instead gave it to a stranger. I can hardly think of a more contemptible—" She breaks off and shakes her head. "Out of my hands, I suppose."
"And into mine," Karindal says wryly, with a half-shrug that serves to highlight the presence of a pair of scaly babies in his arms.
Althra... pauses.
"I wouldn't give up our daughter, of course, that doesn't begin to be a question," says Karindal. "There... is a question about what will become of this poor lost creature. If she had relatives who wanted her, of course I'd give her to them. But since she doesn't..."
"I can only imagine what Father will think," says Althra, shaking her head slowly.
Karindal half-smiles. "Is that implicit agreement I hear?"
"Dear Magister," Althra sighs. "You really want to adopt this... weaponized shren?"
"Yes."
"...She can stay with us for the time being, and when I have time to think about this properly, I'll, well, I'll think about it."
"Thank you," says Karindal.
"And if you wouldn't mind staying here while I see about living arrangements...?"
"Not at all."
Althra gives her husband a distracted peck on the cheek and teleports away, already mentally organizing lists of possibilities.
"We're going to need somewhere to live," says Karindal.
"I..." Althra looks at the babies, and looks at her husband, and sighs. "Yes. Of course. I'm sorry."
"And... what did you find out, about the garnet's parents...?"
"They were going to smash the egg, but instead gave it to a stranger. I can hardly think of a more contemptible—" She breaks off and shakes her head. "Out of my hands, I suppose."
"And into mine," Karindal says wryly, with a half-shrug that serves to highlight the presence of a pair of scaly babies in his arms.
Althra... pauses.
"I wouldn't give up our daughter, of course, that doesn't begin to be a question," says Karindal. "There... is a question about what will become of this poor lost creature. If she had relatives who wanted her, of course I'd give her to them. But since she doesn't..."
"I can only imagine what Father will think," says Althra, shaking her head slowly.
Karindal half-smiles. "Is that implicit agreement I hear?"
"Dear Magister," Althra sighs. "You really want to adopt this... weaponized shren?"
"Yes."
"...She can stay with us for the time being, and when I have time to think about this properly, I'll, well, I'll think about it."
"Thank you," says Karindal.
"And if you wouldn't mind staying here while I see about living arrangements...?"
"Not at all."
Althra gives her husband a distracted peck on the cheek and teleports away, already mentally organizing lists of possibilities.
And the bad and shameful creature curls up around his leg and snuffles her way to sleep.
Anastasia Koskin
power-in-motion
It turns out that moving on short notice to a place that fits a narrow set of specifications is a little difficult.
Althra has some possibilities picked out pretty quickly, but what she doesn't have is the money to convince a seller to part with their property right now, not quite.
She considers whether her father might help. She decides it's worth the time to find out. Goodness knows he can afford to; it's only his willingness that's in question.
Althra has some possibilities picked out pretty quickly, but what she doesn't have is the money to convince a seller to part with their property right now, not quite.
She considers whether her father might help. She decides it's worth the time to find out. Goodness knows he can afford to; it's only his willingness that's in question.
Piotr Pierre Vorkosigan
adapt-again
Pirodeynan is not in a helpful mood, it turns out.
"I won't hear of it. Dispose of them however you want, but I'm not funding a miniature shren house to please that elf's sensibilities."
"I won't hear of it. Dispose of them however you want, but I'm not funding a miniature shren house to please that elf's sensibilities."
Anastasia Koskin
power-in-motion
"If people were less eager to dispose of their children, maybe your granddaughter would still be a dragon," she snaps.
Piotr Pierre Vorkosigan
adapt-again
"Get out of my sight."
Anastasia Koskin
power-in-motion
"Gladly."
So, Piro isn't going to help.
She relaxes her standards a little, double-checks some things, confirms with her husband, and buys them a house in the least populated region of Esmaar. Then she calls Piro again and brusquely informs him that she is registering her new address as a shren hazard location.
So, Piro isn't going to help.
She relaxes her standards a little, double-checks some things, confirms with her husband, and buys them a house in the least populated region of Esmaar. Then she calls Piro again and brusquely informs him that she is registering her new address as a shren hazard location.
And time passes. Almost a month. This is a milestone, for hideously unpleasant reasons which are, as a sort of silver lining, no longer relevant.
The milestone, however, is still relevant. Dragonets are to be named; shrens may not be dragons in any way, shape, or form, but they still need at least that much.
The silver shren, with much meeping and parent-climbing, graciously accepts the name Marrainvaila.
And, a few weeks later, with less meeping and more people-biting, the garnet shren ungraciously accepts the name Saandenalthra.
Right on schedule, the little garnet shren learns her first words, and then all of the rest of her words. Some of them are confusing, though.
One day, she runs up to Marrain (she never moves much slower than that, really) and flaps one limp, tissue-paper wing. "What are these? You're older. Why this?"
Right on schedule, the little garnet shren learns her first words, and then all of the rest of her words. Some of them are confusing, though.
One day, she runs up to Marrain (she never moves much slower than that, really) and flaps one limp, tissue-paper wing. "What are these? You're older. Why this?"
"Wings," diagnoses Marrain. "I dunno."
She gives her foster sister a look as withering as a very small reptile can manage, which is fairly. "I know they're wings, I'm not a stupid. But- they're supposed to be able to fly, right? You got that bit too, right? They're supposed to fly and they don't. And when I try and think about that part all I get is something in my head yelling at me an' I start burning stuff 'cause I'm mad."
She appears to remember something. "Also I burned my sticks. We need more sticks."
She appears to remember something. "Also I burned my sticks. We need more sticks."
"...Wait, which sticks," says Marrain.
"My sticks! I had a bunch of cool sticks. But I burned them. I was mad."
"Okay. We can get you more sticks. Mom or Dad can. Mom and Dad know things like where to find cool sticks," says Marrain.
"You're tryin' to distract me," accuses Saanden.
"What?" blinks Marrain.
"Wings! What's with that! What the heck is a shren and why- is that word- ggRAH!" She shakes her head violently and gnaws on the end of her tail. "Fuck!" she mutters around a mouthful of scales.
She subsides after a moment. "Gleh. That's a fun word though. But what's up with wings, seriously."
She subsides after a moment. "Gleh. That's a fun word though. But what's up with wings, seriously."
"I don't know," says Marrain. "They're just like that." She shakes hers out and prods one with her nose. "I could climb way more things if I could use them properly."
"But- the shren thing! Why that! Why is that word awful! Shren shren shren shren shren shren shren!" She hisses at nothing in particular.
"I don't know that either." She considers. "Maybe Mom and Dad know."
"Good point!"
She speeds off to find Mom, whom she regards as the appropriate parent to harass with uncomfortable and inappropriate questions.
"Hey! Hey! Mom! Shiny hair lady! Mom!"
She speeds off to find Mom, whom she regards as the appropriate parent to harass with uncomfortable and inappropriate questions.
"Hey! Hey! Mom! Shiny hair lady! Mom!"
Anastasia Koskin
power-in-motion
"Yes, love?"
"What's a shren and why do I hate that word and why don't my wings- wings! "
While asking these questions, Saan neglects to control her velocity and smashes herself into a doorframe. She rears herself back in mild alarm, pokes the door reprovingly, and turns to regard her namesake expectantly.
While asking these questions, Saan neglects to control her velocity and smashes herself into a doorframe. She rears herself back in mild alarm, pokes the door reprovingly, and turns to regard her namesake expectantly.
Anastasia Koskin
power-in-motion
"A shren is... similar to a dragon," says Althra, "except that, as you've observed, your wings don't wings." She crouches down to scoop up Saanden for transport.
"I got that, thanks," Saan grumbles. "But it's- I can poke at all these words and learn about them and it's interesting, and then I poke at shren shren shren and it- just, it's garbage!" She squirms uncomfortably, stymied from her standard coping mechanisms of "burn things" and "start biting" by the fact she doesn't want to hurt Mom.
Anastasia Koskin
power-in-motion
"That part I'm afraid I can't explain."
She carries Saanden to Karindal's office.
She carries Saanden to Karindal's office.
Claude Travers
thehigherachievement
"What's the trouble?"