Salem and the beast walked back to the plain that she had begun to call home. She knew the beast had some semblance of intelligence. Otherwise, it would not be following her like this or have gone hunting for her.

Wary took her heart.

This is definitely a fantasy world… so this legendary-like beast should be able to speak human language, right?

“Can you tell me your name?” Salem mumbled partially out of coyness.

Salem could not tell because her head was downcast as she continued to walk but the wolf creature simply smiled at her. 

“Otherworlder, I have no name. Only when I am accepted as a child of one of the gods will I be given a name. But I am a Fenrir who has lived in this forest for centuries. Nearly a millennium.”

Did this giant dog just say he was a Fenrir???? Like the magical beasts of legends? Norse mythology Fenrir? I thought he was just going to say some cringy name like shadow wolf or black canine or some shit…

Salem’s heart skipped a beat. Such a magical existence any nerd or mythology geek back home would sell their soul for was walking next to her as if this was the most normal thing.

Wait… he won’t get a name unless accepted by a god?

Salem frowned, “What sort of bullshit… “

The two continued their walk back to the open field. When the pitiful earth house came into view, Salem smiled.

“Well, my name is Salem. I plan to live in this forest for a while. So, thank you in advance for your continued help.” 

Salem left the Fenrir behind as she went into her home to check on the eggs. 

***

Salem who now had proper clothes and shoes felt on top of the world. The amount of comfort she felt in the ability to wear soft clothes could not be measured. She had pajamas, she had pants, she had shirts. None of which fit her properly, but she did not care. She also took the weapons from the guards. She also had a new friend. The Fenrir was no longer hiding behind the bushes and openly resting within her compound. Salem was more of a cat person, but this large beast was the best companion she had at the moment.

“That is a grimoire.” The fenrir said nonchalantly. Salem had opened the large and heavy book and was thoroughly confused by the letters and images that greeted her.

“A rare one at that. Not many grimoires are so strong they are unclaimed.”

Salem turned to the fenrir, “What do you mean? It’s a book. Can’t you just read it and pass it on?”

The fenrir snorted and shook his large head, “Grimoires are books of magic and spells. For each page that is mastered, the page becomes blank to the current owner. When the full book is mastered, the book becomes one with the one who mastered it. And when that person dies, it is reborn somewhere in the world. Of course, there are hundreds of copies of the most basic and intermediate spells you can find at any book store, library, or that large building where many whelps gather to learn…”

Is he talking about a school? 

Salem watched the fenrir sit up to scratch its ears as if bored, “But such large books like those where every page is intact.. it must be a very rare print and a complex one at that since judging by the color it has seen less than 10 masters.”

Salem furrowed her brows in even more confusion.

The leather-bound books had turned out to be spellbooks. Two of the guards the Fenrir had killed were mages. This much she understood, but color?

“Isn’t this just a basic book with a black cover?”

“Child you truly have been taught nothing…” The fenrir shot Salem a pitiful glance. 

Salem continued to flip through the large and small books with interest. She sat cross-legged with the eggs beside her as usual.

“So, then can you read?” she asked, still not looking up from the various books before her.

“Of course, I can, child. How long do you think I have been alive for?” the large onyx Fenrir snorted at the obvious question. The Fenrir had taken a liking to speaking with Salem and often advised her on many subjects about the forest and the continent.

When Salem explained roughly how she had ended up in this world, the Fenrir held a contemplated look. He had heard her story and would not have believed it if not for her back, the soulless stare she frequently had, and her unique mana signature. This long-lived beast had seen his fair share and lived through his own trials and tribulations, but what this foreigner had to experience upon coming to a new world completely was truly unjust and inhumane.

“So, the war was a religious war… the humans always get so loud when they fight. That is what woke me up. Had you not entered the forest, I was intent on burning everything to the ground. Your presence and magical energy emission were far more interesting than taking out my frustrations on the humans.”

‘So, I inadvertently saved the continent…’

“Can you teach me to read this then?” Salem asked, handing the books to the magical beast.

The beast looked at the books in Salem’s hands before huffing. 

“Very well. Grab a stick. You will practice with the sand.”

***

They weren’t ready yet. They wouldn’t be ready for years. But they wanted to come soon. The voice they heard every day was gentle and adoring. They were worried the voice would throw them away when the voice learned they would not be dragons.

We are stronger than dragons!  They wanted to scream. But they could not. The frustration was building up more and more with each passing day. 

Father had told them someone would definitely save them a long time ago. Now, father was telling them to take their time because the voice was patient and already loved them.

They did not know what to call the voice that spoke to them routinely. They did not need to do anything, the voice cared for them. The voice wiped their shells, the voice provided mana, and the voice provided a warmth different to that of shelter. 

They liked it.

“Hmm… I wonder when you guys will start to move…” The voice wondered aloud.

A deeper voice responded, “They will start to move when they are about to hatch. They have been without nutrients for centuries. Do not expect much, child.”

Shut up! We are still here! They wanted to scream. 

We are ready! They silently cried. 

Frustration was building and what resembled a surge of mana shook their shells.

The voice gasped.

“Ha! Look at that! They moved! Mr. Fenrir, it seems my children don’t like what you just said!” The voice boasted. They could not tell, but their shells were doing a little wiggle. That movement alone made the voice’s day. They could tell.

“‘My children?’” The deeper voice questioned.

“Yes.” The voice responded resolutely, “I’m raising them. That makes me their mom.”

The deeper voice scoffed before shuffling away.

The voice did not seem to care as the voice continued to pet the eggs and whisper sweet adorations to the eggs. 

“Whatever you hatch to be, I’m sure it will work out, babies.” 

The voice seemed content at their display of consciousness and hoisted them up in their arms. They could tell this was time for what the voice called “a nap”.

Let us not call the voice, ‘the voice’ anymore.  One said first.

The other nodded, This is not a voice. 

Simultaneously they both thought:

This is our mother.