The Old One

Stories at the Watering Hole – What I told my people

“So, apparently, they have this little appendage between their legs that they use to insert sperm into the bodies of females.”

The crowd audibly groaned in disgust. The normally noisy watering hole was abnormally focused as the crowd listened intently to every word. One of the patrons ran out of the building, presumably to vomit.

“Inside?” a brave soul asked.

“Yes! When she took my clothes off she was surprised not to find it. She was disappointed and accused me of being a female. I was so confused. The males of her species are often tall like we are. So, she just assumed I was male. I told her I wasn’t female either. She just got mad.”

“How did you even get in that situation?”

“Honestly, the whole thing was so shocking, I don’t remember. I didn’t even understand she wanted me to put sperm inside her. That never entered my mind, obviously. She just seemed interested in seeing my body and kept rubbing me.”

“Is it true that they are warm?”

“Yes. That’s why I liked it. She was warm. Oh! Now I remember. We were all sleeping in the camp and I ended up sleeping very close to her because she was warm and she thought I wanted to do that thing they do. You know – sex without death.”

Everyone became very quiet at the mention of sex and death. There was a question on everyone’s mind, but they didn’t want to ask. It was too loaded. It would ruin everyone’s fun.

“So, did you meet the old woman?” an elder who was sitting in the back asked. Judgement spit from his lips. “I heard that you met the old woman.”

Talk Around the Camp – The story I told my friend

When I first started out from the village, I was excited. I had never been outside of it. Most people hadn’t. We all heard stories since we were young about adventurers leaving for far-off lands only to dry-up in the sun or get eaten.

I was different. I did not cling to my life the way other old-ones did. To be quite honest, I wanted to die. I never thought I’d be an old-one. I thought I would have died long ago. Don’t tell anyone. It’s our secret.

There was also a legend of a woman who didn’t want to die – a woman that did not die. Depending on who you ask, either she simply refused to go to the spawning pool to give her life for her children or she did but, by some fluke of nature, survived. Nobody knew for sure.

I wanted to find her. I wanted to kill her.

I traveled light. I followed the river. I didn’t want to dry up. What a horrible way to die. I want to die giving life. Dying to become a desiccated corps is my only fear, so I stayed by the water.

The land became different. The wet areas were no longer part of a marsh. The river and the land were now extremely distinct. Where the land stopped and the river began was a definite line. The water was void and empty. It was so clear! I could see the fish near the bottom. The bottom was sand, just like the ocean. It was so dry on land that I needed to submerge myself in water regularly for my skin not to itch. If I was outside of water for too long, it was hard to breath. It was so dry.

Eventually, I came to a valley where the river stretched out into a lake. The banks were full of tall grass, moss, and pitcher plants. The ground was soft. It felt wonderful and wet.

Then, I saw her house. The old woman’s house was a cobble of reeds made into a dome. It looked like a house of an old-one. I suspected she took the same route as I did. She must have. It was the only route she could have taken to become as old as she did, to become the insult to nature that she is.

I didn’t see her. She hid from me. Then I felt a thin line of pressure at my throat. It was a blade. “Have you come to murder me?” I heard her whisper into my ear. “You’ve come a long way for nothing.”

I gasped. I realized that she was going to kill me. She was going to kill me. I was so happy. I anticipated the knife penetrating my throat. My body would fall dead in the fertile lands of this swamp, full of bugs and fish, and I would be eaten. My death would give life. You know, the way her body should have given life to her young. My body would not dry up into nothing but give life.

I waited and waited. She did nothing. She didn’t strike. Why? Why didn’t she?

After what seemed like an eternity, I couldn’t contain my anticipation. “Please.” I begged her. “Kill me.”

She took the knife away and spun me around to look me in the face. I fell to my knees. “Please?” she asked me. Certainly, she was confused by my reaction to her threat.

I did not look her in the eye. I did not want to see an old woman. What a horror she must have been. She cared for her life. She acted like an old-one. Disgusting.

“An old-one who wants to die?” She looked at me with pity. “My god.”

“You should be dead!” I screamed at her. “Why aren’t you dead? How could you?” I finally looked up to see her. She was as I always imagined her to be. She was shorter than me, but taller and bigger than a male. Her color was dull and grey like a woman, but her fins and skin were worn. She was a bit paler. She was a bit larger. She was an old woman.

“Die.” I leapt onto her. She fell. I don’t even know what I did. I don’t. I was in a blind rage. I was going to kill her and throw her body into the swamp. Somehow in our struggle, she put her hand on the side of my face. I was screaming, “I will rip your head off. Die. Die. Die.”

It took me a long time to realize, over the sound of my own voice, what she was saying to me. “My child. My child. It will be okay. I’m so sorry.” I felt her arms around me. She was holding me close. I wasn’t actually fighting her and she was comforting me. “There. There. It will be alright. Shh…”

“How could you?” I sobbed. “How could you care for me? You’re a woman.”

“The same reason you were willing to throw away your life, old-one,” she answered me.

Back at the Watering Hole – What my people wanted to hear

“So, did you meet the old woman? I heard that you met the old woman. Did you kill her?” the elder barked.

“Of course I did. She was begging me not to. How could I not kill a woman who begs not to die?”

The watering hole erupted in laughter. The tension was alleviated.

“Tell us more about the warm-blooded people!” Someone yelled. “Where do they lay their eggs?”

“They don’t lay eggs. They only have one young at a time and get this, it grows inside the female.”

“What? Inside her? Then how does she survive? Doesn’t the baby eat her?”

“No, she is never eaten. The baby gets big somehow, and then she pushes it through a hole between her legs. Sometimes this does kill her, but most of the time she survives. Then she feeds the child with liquid that comes from bags on her chest.”

“You are making this up,” another patron claimed, laughing. “No way.”

“What about their old-ones? What are they like? Are they short and fat!” someone else asked. The room erupted in laughter again.

“They aren’t tall and thin like us either. They don’t have old-ones.”

“What?” several in the crowd muttered in disbelief.

“I tell you, they don’t have old-ones.”

“How is that possible? Who takes care of the young?”

“Since neither the male nor female die to give life to their children, the males and females take care of the young. Yes. The males and females take care of the young, not old-ones. The males are often taller and stronger, but not always. They sometimes learn how to fight to protect the women. The females are usually the ones who do most of the work taking care of the children, but they both take care of them.”

The room was full of blank stares.

“That’s why that warm woman at the camp reacted so poorly when I told her that I wasn’t male or female. She had no idea that old-ones even existed.”

Someone dropped their mug.

“And get this – they have ceremonies where the male and female earnestly promise to bond with one another, have sex over and over again, and attempt to have children more than once.”

“Did the warm woman want to do that with you? I mean, you said she wanted you to put sperm in her.”

“Bond and make babies? How would that work? I had to explain to her how inappropriate her intention was. She eventually apologized and we became friends.”

“You became friends with a warm creature?” someone asked accusingly.

“Traveling companions. We were traveling companions.”

Back at the Camp – Saying goodbye to my friend

So, I stayed with the old woman for a while. She may not have looked like an old-one, but she bonded with me. She was the first one I was ever honest with. I don’t think you understand what would happen to me if one of my people finds out. You must keep my secret. The old woman and I, we are abominations. Our very existence is sacrilegious. You must not speak of this to anyone.

The old woman took care of me. She took care of me like I was a child. Eventually, my disgust faded, but sometimes when I looked at her, I still felt this rage. How could she be so selfish? How dare she still be alive? She was a reminder of how broken I was, how wrong we both were and how much I despised my life.

I had to go. If I did not leave, I would end up following through on my promises. I would have murdered her. It was only a matter of time before I would eventually find my resolve.

You humans. Your most sacred relationship is between mother and child. Right? You likely think my relationship with the old woman is a beautiful thing. To us, it is as repulsive as any deviant human behavior you can think of. I’d be hacked to pieces and set on fire. At times, I thought that is what I deserved. It was what we both deserved.

I found out that she had refused. She didn’t swim into the spawning pool. Her fear of death was too strong. She just wanted to take care of people. She wanted to be like me – like I’m supposed to be. She refused to give life. Her eggs were simply reabsorbed into her body. The very thought of her body committing such slaughter still horrifies me.

So, I left and continued on my adventures. I met you. My life has been interesting. Thank you. I guess I’m telling you this, because I want someone to know. Anyone. I just want to say it out loud for some reason. Don’t ask me why.

I’m going to go back home now. I’m going to tell them she’s dead, so that nobody tries to kill her. The spawn is happening soon. I’m so excited. I’ve made a decision. I’m going to jump into the pool and finally, finally give life.

So, I’m saying good-bye. Don’t be sad. Be happy for me.