Tales of the Many-Tailed - 1 - It wasn't me (Patreon)

A pair of lights filled Edith’s vision when someone smacked into her from behind, and they tumbled across the ground. The screech of the truck’s air brakes tore at her hearing, and a moment later the world turned white.

A white so bright she squinted and lifted a hand to shield her eyes. Her dark blue cardigan sleeve caught her eye, and Edith looked herself up and down. The grey wide-leg trousers and white silk blouse weren’t what she’d worn to the library that day, but along with her black loafers, they were her current work favourites.

“Huh?” Edith cleared her throat and turned on the spot. The whiteness didn’t ease; gleaming iceberg-white surrounded her. It was so clean it was hard to make out the seams where the walls, ceiling, and floor joined.

A click sounded, and Edith spun around, ready to leap away. Only to find that a full-figured woman in a figure-hugging dress had pushed open a door that had been a seamless section of the wall moments earlier. One look at her gleaming smile and old urges crawled forth; Edith wanted to curl up in a ball at the woman’s feet.

Edith squinted so hard her face hurt, but she could make out only the faintest details of the woman’s features through the glow. Her thoughts skittered sideways as the newcomer's features kept changing, each hotter than the last, her lips making Edith bite her own as her breathing quickened.

How can she be so beautiful? Is this alien mind control?

A new fanfic idea bloomed for The X-Files; fingers twitched for a notebook that wasn’t there.

“I’m so sorry to have kept you waiting; everyone is so swamped right now that I got drafted in to help.”

“Help with what? What am I doing here, and who are you?”

“I’m here to help with your reincarnation process, Edith. My condolences on your death.” The woman put a dainty, gloved hand to her breast; the white-on-white glow made it hard to tell whether the glove was cloth or flesh. “I’m a cupid, not a placement agent, so please bear with me as I don’t normally handle this paperwork.”

“The truck missed me,” Edith protested. “Wait, someone pushed me, and it missed us both.”

“Nope, you died. Usually, we would let you recycle in the normal way, but since a hero summoning took place, the procedure requires manual placement in a timely fashion. One can’t hold up summoning rituals; that’s just not done.”

An image of the intersection near Queen Victoria’s statue flashed in her mind. The peak-hour rush, umbrellas bumping as people struggled through the downpour, and then the white truck with a black grill like a potato masher appeared out of nowhere. Denial fought in her mind; the lack of detail made it feel like an elaborate prank.

“How am I dead? Someone pushed me out of the way.”

"I answered that question. Please pay attention, as we’re quite busy. Do you really want me to go into the minutiae of how dozens died? That's just gruesome! We removed the memory to eliminate the trauma. Let’s proceed with your reincarnation options."

A scroll with silvery letters unfurled between them, listing dozens of species, and Edith groaned at all the fantasy tropes. Fantasy didn’t inspire her, but she'd studied comparative mythology throughout her career.

Elves, dwarves, please! What about a Klingon? There isn’t a single sci-fi species on that list… Well, at least a Kitsune could have a real mythological basis. Wait… what did she say? Something in her voice is slippery.

A desperate grab for the cupid’s recent words came almost too late.

“What do you mean dozens died?!” Edith yelped.

The cupid rubbed her forehead, her lips pursing in a way that made Edith groan. “This is why you don’t remember. I’m so not getting a promotion.”

“You said hero summoning. The truck was heading straight for me,” Edith panted, her heart pounding in her chest. “I’m no hero.”

“Edith, it was a packed intersection. Hold your breath, and that will prove you’re dead, as you don’t need to breathe. You’re hyperventilating from the memory of panic.”

A sharp inhalation brought no pressure to Edith’s chest, and after long seconds, there was no pressure to exhale, no dots before her eyes, and no urge to breathe.

“You murdered dozens of people,” Edith said.

The cupid waved a hand, and Edith felt her anger get plucked away. “Let’s move along; it was necessary, and now thousands won’t die. My briefing indicated that the woman who pushed you out of the way is the actual hero. The summoning manifestation also missed her and took an emergency option to avoid falling behind schedule. There is no tolerance for delaying a summons.”

“Do the summoners know they ended people’s lives?” Without anger to fuel them, Edith’s words came out cold, but the cupid’s benign beauty didn’t shift.

“Of course, their nation has done it multiple times throughout its history. They’re fully aware they’re yanking people from their lives and loved ones. Now choose a species, as we’ve got a schedule to keep.”

I’m going to make someone pay.

The desire to strangle the bureaucracy that had ended her life stirred in Edith’s chest, and a possibility for one species came to mind. “And you allow it?”

“We’re on a time limit. Shall we move along, or would you like me to default you to a species? Perhaps Orc or goblin?”

Edith parked her outrage at those who summoned them in the back of her mind. “Kitsune. Do they match Earth mythology?”

“Yes.” The cupid drew another scroll from a sleeve and read from it in a monotone. “Oh, you really don’t want Kitsune. Their tails number caps their power growth. Do you really want to struggle against a blockage that won’t shift for fifty years?”

“They match earth, so nine tails and a golden Kitsune stage after the ninth tail?”

I’ll need time to bring this nation down. Killing people for the state's needs. Why don’t they train their own people instead of yanking us from our lives?

“Yes.”

“And they live until someone kills them?”

“Yes.”

“Then why would fifty years bother me? How many tails can I start with?”

“The manual says it’s the administrator's decision, so let’s say three.”

“Can we roll for it?”

“Why not three?”

“Why not nine?” Edith pressed. “That obliterates your blockage concern.”

“Nine-tailed Kitsune are the epitome of wisdom,” the cupid declared. “The locals will have many expectations if they discover you. Best to avoid the pressure—”

Edith tapped her foot, deliberately interrupting. “You killed me, and I’m going to have to adapt to a new world. For that, three tails isn’t enough. However, I can compromise. How about we roll for it? A ten-sided die with each point a tail.”

“A one in ten chance of being a near-divine figure? I don’t think so, young lady.”

I earned my grey hairs, but what does a celestial care about a mortal’s age? This one doesn’t seem to care that this summoning killed me. It seems like a chance at a promotion for her. Is she standing in to help someone with more rank?

“Then what about two ten-sided dice? They give one to a hundred, and we can divide by ten to determine the result. You murdered me, and killing is bad. If you’re actually the good guys, I should at least get a chance at an upgrade.”

The cupid's mouth tightened, and she tapped Edith’s brow before drawing back. On her palm sat a pair of gold dice with white numbers; one had all its numbers underlined. “Roll. No warm-ups. We’re rounding down, minimum one tail.”

Dice gods, be good to me.

Rattling them in her cupped hands, Edith cast them across the floor to bounce in the corner. The first quickly settled on a zero, and the other kept spinning, then tipped to one. Edith’s stomach dropped at the thought of being stuck in fox shape for a hundred years. The die suddenly hopped, flopped, and bounced twice more, as if an invisible hand had turned it over.

The cupid eyed her suspiciously. “Did you invoke a deity?”

Technically, I invoked multiple, but I didn't name any.

“No.”

“I hope you didn’t for your sake. The deities that favour Kitsune are pranksters.” She sighed. “That means you got the gold Kitsune. I think I need to run this by my boss before we move on to class selection.”

“That’s fine. Can I look at my class options while you get approval?” Edith reached for the still hovering scroll, but her fingers passed right through it.

“No, as your class option depends on species, I need to get it confirmed. I don’t know how long it will take.”

“I’m dead, so I’m not in a rush. It will give me a chance to study the possibilities.”

“But the summons—”

Edith’s fingers snapped at the cupid’s face. “Listen. You stole my life. You said I’m not the hero, so we’re not delaying the summoning.”

Cupid whimpered. “You’re all supposed to arrive in the summoning chamber at the same time. We use it as a beacon to determine where to create your new bodies.”

“I’m happy to arrive afterwards, and then I can sneak out. Or not even show up near the people who got me killed.”

The frown deepened, yet the beauty still made the details hard to absorb without stealing Edith’s breath. “You’d fit in with the rest of the tricksters. I’ll return as soon as I can, and we’ll pick a suitable class.”

“What gear will I have?”

“It’s determined by class selection.” With that, she stepped away, and the room door clicked shut behind the cupid.

“Let’s confirm the species before she gets back.”

A warm breath across the back of Edith’s neck carried the words, and as she spun around to find who spoke, fur flowed. Her clothes vanished, and she found herself on all fours as an electrifying energy rushed from her snout to the tips of her nine tails. A glance at her paws revealed legs sheathed in golden fur, with snowy white tips forming streaks along her limbs. Despite having spun around, the breath still caressed her neck and made her new pointed ears twitch.

“A little gift from the Chaos Gods to help you survive. These runes are only a start, but for the greatest strength, you’ll need to endow classes and forms into your tails to carry them.”

“I’m not a hero,” Edith protested.

“You’re not there as the hero, and nothing is black and white as victors always write history,” the voice yipped in her ear. “You were the last, so let's get you set to depart.”

“But my class.”

The warm breath had already vanished, and dozens of symbols blazed before her eyes, then swirled around her as Edith tried to focus. They were a strange mix of Japanese katakana and Norse runes. In each character, the sharp lines favoured by Old Norse runes replaced the Katakana's smooth curves.

As they rushed by, Edith caught only four, but with some straight lines swapped for curves, the runes made sense.

Shadow Meld, Shapeshift, Fox’s Kiss, and Shadow Dance.

With a wiggle, the runes planted themselves at the base of her tails, then disappeared into flesh.

The floor turned into a star-filled night sky, and Edith fell.

Before she could react, her body turned into streamers of light. Stars raced by in a blur of solid beams, and a moment later she materialised. Though hundreds of scents pressed into her nostrils, only fifty of the people who owned them stood with her in the blinding glow of the circle. Beneath the sweat, incense, and aromas of varied races, a metallic odour of blood coated the inside of her nose. Without her prompting, the rune for shadow meld hummed against Edith’s spine, and she literally sank into the shadow of a massive armoured stranger before the blinding light faded. As the shadow swallowed her, all the scents cut off, leaving a strange, itching void in her nostrils.

Peeking up from ground level, she could make out mostly a sea of legs. Those around her wore garb reminiscent of a Renaissance fair: armour, colourful robes, and various weapons. She could make out quarterstaffs, a range of short blades at hips, and one sheathed flamberge resting point down against the stones near a red-scaled fellow.

They get clothing and gear, and I’m naked except for my fur.

With the crowd blocking her view, only the painted ceiling hundreds of metres overhead gave her a clue to the chamber's size.

Cries of surprise came from beyond their tightly packed gathering, and a body thumped to the ground.

As some voices called for a healer, a melodic male voice called out. “Welcome, heroes. Please accept our apologies for drawing you from your homes, but our need is dire. The forces of the demonic nations have broken the accords, and we need heroes in this dark time.”

Yet you’ve done this repeatedly over the centuries, so when exactly did needing a hero for your nation become a surprise?