DesdemonaDeBlake

Alone, in the sunlight, I watched the waves create yellow reflections over the sea while seafoam washed onto the sands. With all the Night People asleep, my only sort of company was the distant Servants—working and seeming to occasionally stare at me—from the distant peninsula. It didn’t take long before boredom took over, so I stopped and began to search for pieces of driftwood. When I'd found a few pieces, I began to toss them, one at a time, into the air and trying to punch them as they fell. I missed … and then missed again, and many more times. If these were my fighting skills, I was in serious trouble. I continued this practice—trying to punch driftwood, throwing stones at stuff, and doing clumsy kicks—for a couple more hours. Eventually, however, I also quickly grew tired of this. The exercises seemed pointless; I felt like nothing I could do could possibly prepare me for fighting a monster. I fell into lonesome sulking, trying not to think too much as I sat on the

When Krogallo’s story was over, the Night People gathered to socialize for a bit—talking excitedly in the moonlight. Even the younger bats, who had been perched on me, left to play. I stood and watched as they all gradually dispersed. Since Krogallo, Camolla, and Romalla weren’t around, I guessed that they went to eat as well. It made sense … I was sure they had to be hungry after spending so much time helping me out of the cave and then answering my questions. I decided to walk along the Wall, occasionally finding some Night People staring but not knowing how to interact with them. It wasn’t as if I could go up to them like, ‘Hey—Larry, Tina! You two try out the bloodbags on South Beach recently? Oh, it’s the hottest place to eat since Central Beach.’ No, I would have had no idea what to say. It was probably better to just let the ones who wanted to talk to me do so on their own terms. I left the clearing where the storytelling had taken place—entering a part of the island that

Dusk soon became night—the moon and stars shone brightly above. As I stood on the sand, I looked up at the clear sky and then down at the many celestial lights reflected by the calm sea. For a moment, I allowed myself to be distracted by the many evening activities of the bats who had welcomed me. As the Night People darted through the sky, some would soar over the ocean, occasionally dive beneath waves, and then fly back up. It took me a few minutes to understand what they were doing—I only figured it out when one emerged from the water with something glistening in its mouth. I was pretty sure they were the scales of a fish. It occurred to me that maybe all this island nightlife should have been a little more difficult to see in the dark. However, between the moonlight and the quality of whatever I was using for eyes, it wasn’t a problem. I didn’t have traditional night vision or thermal vision … and it wasn’t like looking at things in the sunlight either. My eyes just seemed

Taking a brief break from digging through the ceiling above me, I looked through the hole I had made. I saw the sky—albeit periodically obscured by the faces of the Night People working on the other end of the tunnel. By the pinkish hues beyond, I guessed that it was evening (unless I was on some kind of cotton-candy, alien world with perpetually pink skies). There was a smell of salt water in the air above, and I could hear the splash of waves over the soft scratching sounds of claws digging through sand. “Are you sure this is … alright?” I called out. “I feel kind of bad for digging out your cave.” “Of course, Sleeping God,” said Krogallo, sticking his head through the hole to look at me. He ignored the jostling movement of the other bats still digging around him. “We cannot leave you prisoner here, after all.” I nodded and got back to work. I had to stand on my toes and awkwardly dug one-handed over the top of the pod. While my body did not seem specifically designed for

Chapter 1 My Awakening as God of the Bats It’s difficult to describe what it feels like to gradually wake from nonexistence. I had no idea how long I floated in a black and semi-conscious haze. For me, there were no thoughts, no lights, no dreams. Only with the unknowable progression of time did I eventually begin to sense more. The haze took shape, with blurred edges, beginnings and ends. Still, I could not actively think to make sense of anything. There eventually came a point at which the haze started to subside. That was when I began to realize that there was a “me.” Not that I knew who I was. All I knew—my only memories—were fleeting images. It was like I was receiving input from two sources fighting for dominance. The first was a place beyond a window, which seemed somehow separate from me. The second was a dreamlike state I existed within—chaotic, changing, and ethereal. I tried to focus on the window as I floated in darkness, hearing voices, and witnessing dreams play