Page 37 of Prey It By Ear

These, too, did not remain apart. As they rose, they joined with those who carried the touch of magic, and from them came further branching, the tree of life set firm between two realms. Those nearer to animalia, and those nearer to what would become human, found simpler paths. The magical kind who could pass among humankind learned to dwell unseen, veiling themselves in plain sight. This, in time, gave them quiet advantage. Yet, with long years of hidden living, a divide took root. It widened between the ancient ones of the Veil and those born of mingling blood.

What humankind would later call myth, legend, and godhood were but faint tellings of these varied forms. Yet humankind grew at a slower turning than the others, and in that difference fear found fertile ground. Where they could not understand, they cast blame. Where they saw difference, they named it fault. Thus did the first peoples and all their branches withdraw from sight, and the old stories fell into disuse, then into silence, then into taboo.

When the break came—between what was seen and what was believed, between knowing and denial—those who were not human were gathered in thought into a single despised host. Under such weight, old divisions sharpened. Kinds once unbound to one another turned to strife. There were wars, and slaughters, and contests for land, for dominion, for survival. Often these were laid at the feet of humankind, whose hand was visible and whose understanding was slight. The magical kind took greatest care to conceal themselves, for the beings now named mythical had long been hunted under the guise of fear. The shifter animalia, whether hunter or hunted by nature, fared no better beneath the eyes of those who did not know them. So were accords forged in secret, shaped by magic, that the troublesome gaze of humankind might be turned aside.

In time, those who bore the blending of animal, magic, and human nature came to share likeness of mind as well as form. Long had the shifters walked in disguise, and in that nearness they learned the ways of power. Among the predator animalia arose families who took hold of councils and seats of rule. Years gathered, and with them came whispers—low, fearful—of a hidden order. It was said that wealth and dominion had bound them together, predator and prey alike among their number, and that they had set their will upon a single design: that the magical beings be sent back beyond the Veil, that their absence might swell the strength and riches of those who remained.

It began in quiet places, with infiltration in [section in another language and not translated]. From there it spread to [section not translated], and from thence it reached across the breadth of the world.

[Entire three-paragraph section not translated]

After the Treaty, betrayal followed swift and certain. The predators turned upon their prey-kin once the magicals were gone and humankind remained blind. The Society stood rooted, deep and unyielding, its grasp upon all that sustained life. Food, water, medicine—these lay within its hand, to grant or to withhold. Thus were the prey leaders brought low, pressed into submission beneath the weight of need. Those magical beings who had not passed through the closing Veil went to ground, hiding themselves from the hunters set upon them—hunters bound by contract to the Society, sent to seek and demand fealty from the shifter mythical kind who had long lived beyond their reach.

So was the world remade, and none were left unmarked by the change. Yet victory did not belong to all. It rested solely with those who had shaped the Society in its earliest shadow. By design and by deed, they subdued, cast out, destroyed, and claimed dominion over what had been before the Great Wars. Magic was lost from this plane, its presence driven away or sealed beyond return. What pacts were sworn, what acts were done to bring this end to pass, remain hidden still—kept within the guarded archives of those who now hold rule over all.

Bì jiāng xuè liú chénghé, dāng miànshā de hòuyì zhōng dànshēng yī wèi chúnjié wúxiá de xīn shēngmìng shí, tǒngzhì biàn huì zhōngjié. Zhè háizǐ shì zhǐzhào; dāng tā chéngnián zhī shí, shēngmìng jiāng chóng fǎn rénjiān.

Yǒngyǒu miànshā zhī lì de rénmen, zuò hǎo zhǔnbèi ba, fùchóu zhōng jiāng jiànglín yú nǐmen.

The room is silent when the dragon stops reading, even though some of us have heard it before. It’s hard not to be shocked by the information, especially when the provenance of this scroll was a vampire-controlled museum and the translation was helped by a prey shaman. As before, I’m eager to find out what the redacted sections say; Dolly wasn’t joking about them being important for us to know. However, I’m pleased to note that her friends, the crew, and even the hillbilly lawyer are looking surprised enough to catch flies in their mouths.

Finally, Felix rakes his hand through his hair and says, “Thoughts?”

“It is much closer to the lore we were all taught as children,” Banjo says, and his triplet brothers nod in agreement. “Not any easier to hear out loud, especially in a room full of the… animalia who were involved.”

“Not now, of course!” Raina cuts in hastily. “Or… not you. You are all our friends and family. We do not blame you for the past or the actions of your ancestors, King Felix. Please do not mistake his words for disrespect.”

Chuckling, I wait for the elder Khan to reply. I know he is humoring them by allowing the King and Queen thing, as is Dolly. Neither of them are arrogant enough to really want titles; Felix only pursued being Raj to help his ambush, not to be lauded by them. However, the discomfort they’re trying to hide when the prey crew bestow the honorifics is hysterical, so I say nothing.

“Er… thank you, Raina. But I promise, we know how shitty our families are.” The tiger pauses for a moment and then adds, “except for Chess and Ren, as we now know. We know that unlike the Fae attacking, you are not holding us responsible for their bad actions, both present and past.”

Always the diplomat, that’s our exiled Raj.

“Okay, so if I’m understandin’ this namby-pamby folklore right…” Farley interrupts before anyone else jumps in, crossing his arms over his chest as he looks over his reading glasses. “That means we’re all a smidgen descended from those varmints, but mythical shifters are the closest. And if that’s speakin’ true, mythicals pulled a neutral Swiss-coward thing in the big wars while prey sided with the animalia… Why the damned hell are those Fae rebels coming after everyone? And how do the humans figure in that mutant bull hockey?”

Cori bounces in her seat as she waves her hand wildly. “Ooh! Ooh! I know. This is related to stuff Ru-Ru, and I were looking into in Paris, remember?”

“Like what, Cococabana?” Fitz asks curiously. “I don’t see how you two could find anything, if you didn’t know this until just now.”

Rufus snorts, rolling his eyes. “The pieces just fell into place, psycho. What my bestie is trying to tell you is that we were researching a lot of shit to do with the supposed vampires and Fae and what not in the big and small museums and libraries and universities nearby. The humans getting it on with magicals or even diluted magicals created vampires and a bunch of the more human-looking shit in their myths; weren’t you listening to the big guy?”

That earns another enormous silence until Renard breaks it. “The three groups were allowed to mingle until the war-torn years, I assume. My dalliance with the princess must have been in the years when it was becoming taboo, but not outright illegal. My parents did what they did to keep our clutch safe—despite it meaning they had to sacrifice their heir. Many of the mythical species probably had to make hard choices in that timeframe, so it’s unlikely I am the only one.”

“Why aren't there more griffins…” my angel mutters as she frowns. “I think there are things the Society families depend on the cooperating mythical families for. I remember several times recently and possibly in the past, where Lucille commented on the decline of certain ‘rare’ species breeding. Griffins is one I definitely recall, but it could have been more and I tuned it out. I had to tune out a lot of her shit to stay sane, especially when I was younger.”

Aubrey harrumphs as he puts his phone down and looks around. “Our list of suspected Society families includes my own, the Kavarits, and possibly others who have mixed long enough ago that it’s a well-kept secret. We also do not know how many shadowy families of mythicals could be hiding within the umbrella of large ones, such as the Shirdals. Their continued existence without being ruled by the current system likely depends on being quietly accepting of this reality.”

“You said we weren’t going to be able to avoid your clash, and I suppose that’s true,” I murmur as I look at the frustrated lizard empathetically. “I’ll add looking at when a visit might be possible to the list. Certainly, the largest dragon clash in the world will have information we need—whether they want to give it up or not.”

Rising to his feet, Ren walks over and joins his mate in the chair, sighing as he looks at our ragtag assembly. “Let us continue the meeting. The hour is growing late, and this much emotion will be tiring for everyone.”

It’s an accurate statement, but I don’t think any of the others will sleep well after this—it’s a complete flip of our worldview, and that’s gonna take some time to settle.

Come Together

Delores

I’m not a fan of all this… ugliness.