FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

A/N: Last revised 3/11/2023; mild grammatical edits, nothing major.

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Sleepiness and boredom lingered in the air of the Athenaeum like a fog, making the eyelids of all patrons and staff heavy as they inhaled the noxious air. The lack of work to do was mind-numbing to the point a few of the workers resigned to napping on the couches. I could have joined them, but something told me to stay awake, as something would soon occur. I could not place my finger on what this something would be, but I waited patiently behind drooping eyes.

The only way I could avoid a nap was by keeping as busy as possible. I had gone through a stack of requests from other libraries, then absorbed myself in my latest romance-novel-in progress. I managed to get rather lost in my work until the telltale wind from the open front door and the vibrations in the webbing meshed into the floorboards indicated someone had walked in.

The energy that filled the building was much larger than what I was used to. Occasionally, Greater Demons visited the shop, but this was far larger than anything they could dream of becoming. I knew exactly who it was, as their aura was always rather specific, smelling of blood and ash and tasting of dread: Sethira the Blood-Cloaked, Demon Queen of War and Rebellion, Wielder of the Midnight Blade, Wife of Queen Phaedra.

Sethira was not the Demon Queen of my people; though her wife was the Creator of my kind, Sethira Created the aptly-named Sethirans. They're hyena-like warrior monsters, bipedal creatures with the fur, ears, and tails of hyenas just like their creator, Sethira herself. They value strength and glory in combat above all else, fittingly embodying the values of a war Demon. They referred to Sethira as the Matriarch of Matriarchs, showing just how important she was in their matriarchal society. It was common for Sethirans to even dye their mohawks red to match her Demonfire mohawk, showing their high status.

Needless to say, being in the presence of Sethira was intimidating. Heart hammering and ears ringing, I hid my work in progress under the desk and tried to tidy up the space as Sethira approached. My familiar, a large jumping spider named Eva, stepped out from underneath my desk, eyeing the Queen before returning to her prior place.

She's scary, Eva said in my head. Be careful.

I nodded to Eva before returning my attention back to Sethira. Eva was a rather skittish, anxious creature, and though normally, I'd try to brush off her worries, they were warranted today.

Sethira pointed at me, and I pointed back at myself, wondering what she was getting at. She did not explain, clearly wanting me to somehow psychically decipher her intent.

I grabbed my quill and my special scroll for communication, but when I started writing, Sethira slammed a furry hand on the parchment, blocking the quill's path. I paused and looked up. She shook her head at me, her rounded ears twitching thoughtfully, portraying what appeared to be some sort of excitement.

Then she signed, "You don't need to use your voice. I can understand this fine."

"You can sign?" I signed back to her, incredulous. Then I remembered who I was talking to and added a hasty, "Sorry."

Sethira's wife was Phaedra, Queen of Fate, the Mother of my kind and therefore a spider. Some called her the Original Spider, but there are legends that spoke of an older Spider before her--one that she killed. Spiders, Monster or animal, could not hear or speak like many other Monsters, Elves, Orcs, or Humans. We communicated through our many hands and vibrations in our webs. Though others have reported that our webs make songs, they did not produce sound to us, but tactile waves with messages. More complex conversation was with Handspeak.

Needless to say, it was natural that Sethira, who was married to a Spider, would know how to sign.

Sethira waved me off. "Don't apologize. Apologies are for the weak."

"Right. Sorry. I mean." This was going terribly. My heart hammered in my chest. "Anyway. Are you looking for something?"

She chuckled. "What are you so afraid of, Little Spider? We have met before."

This was a baited question. If I said I wasn't afraid, Sethira would mock me, or worse. If I said what I was afraid of, she would call me weak, so I simply repeated my question, which made her laugh harder. It was better than being destroyed. I managed a weak smile.

"I have something for you. A proposal of sorts." She reached into the ether and pulled out a nondescript leather bound journal, which she tossed in front of me.

Curious, I flipped through it. At first, the pages seemed blank, until I traced my finger along the pages. My touch revealed lines upon lines of Demonic characters-not the language I used, but a distant ancestor of my mother tongue

I flipped to the first page, which read The Pillow Book of Sethira.

I looked up, alarmed. "Why are you giving me this?" I signed frantically. I didn't know the amount of power that hid between the pages, but I knew they would attract many interested parties, especially Sethira's faithful. I wasn't even a Sethira worshiper, though I respected her, so the offer made no sense.

"Many reasons, most of which are none of your business. But to put your mind at ease, one of them is that I trust you'll keep the original copy safe while copies for the mortals are being made."

I tilted my head. "Copies for the mortals? Are you planning something?"

"Astute. I am, but I will not explain it. I will, however, explain your role, should you accept it."

"Naturally," I agreed. I would never expect Sethira of all people to explain her plots. I was curious as to what it was and why, but I was even more curious about the pillow book. "What are you wanting me to do?"

"Phaedra tells me you're a linguist. Is this true?"

I nodded, then shook my head, deciding I wasn't fit for the actual title. "I study languages, but it isn't my life's mission to know them all, and it isn't my profession." I gestured around the library, as though that sufficiently explained what my profession was. "I suppose I could say I'm a hobbyist linguist, but not a scholar."

"That's good enough for me. I wrote the contents of this book. They tell stories of a certain period of my life, eras ago, hidden between lines of cryptic messages. Some of the stories may not make sense. Some may be inaccurate, clouded by the lies of self-perception. But what matters is that they were my thoughts."

I nodded slowly, pondering the amount of precious information I held within the book. Once I read it, I would know so much more about the world around us. It was an opportunity I could never pass up, no matter the cost.

"Nothing grand or cosmic, of course. Don't get too excited," she said with a laugh. "That's boring. But I like the mortals to think it is. The more mysterious they think I am, the better. I'm sure you know how they are."

"I am aware." My hands were still shaking when I signed, and I wished I could still them. My other hands fiddled with my cardigan and hangnails in my clawbeds. If Sethira was inviting me to participate in a plot of hers, it would be shameful to appear nervous or uncertain about it. I tried not to think about what Sethira thought of my nervousness and instead pretended I was talking to any other Monster. This became difficult, though, as whenever I'd open my eyes, I'd see Sethira themself staring intently back, dissecting me with her glowing red eyes.

I decided to just keep talking. "So you want me to translate the pillow book?"

"I would, but not exactly. I would like three versions. One should simply be a translation of the messages I left upon first glance. The other two should be polarizing accounts of what occurred in the book. Add in details here and there that change the events. Make one literal, and make one some fluffy poetic nonsense. Mortals love that shit. They erect temples to whatever they can't understand, claiming to know the 'real truth.' Know what I mean?"

I nodded, because I did.

She continued, "The difference between the translations should be dissonant. I'd adore anything that would cause discourse and argument."

"So people can disagree about the true message of Sethira and fight each other over it?" It seemed about on par with any request Sethira would have. She was the embodiment of war and discord, after all.

"Precisely. Having mortals fluttering about arguing over the true meaning of contraband literature written by their world's forbidden god? Or better, Sethiran Matriarchs at war over who understands the Word of Sethira the best? Absolute chaos. It'll be great fun."

"I'm interested," I replied, partially because I agreed that it would be interesting to witness, but also because one couldn't simply say no to a god. "Is there anything else I should know?" I didn't bother asking about payment. Having the arsenal of secrets within Sethira's pillow book was reward enough.

Sethira paused to think for a moment. "Nope, that's pretty much it. Should I think of anything else, I'll bother you."

I looked back down at the pillow book, flipping through the weather-worn pages, hands shaking with excitement. It was such an honor to be trusted with such a task, though I'd be lying if I said I wasn't terrified. Not just because it was Sethira, but because I wasn't sure of what I would find inside the book.

I looked up to thank Sethira, but she had disappeared. Her energy couldn't be felt anywhere in the building. Eva peered around, then ran about the Athenaeum, searching.

When she returned, she said in my mind, She has gone.

I immediately had the impulse to tell my wife all about the meeting with Sethira, but she wasn't here at the moment. I had a duty to the Athenaeum for the next few hours, sleepy as it might be, so I thought it might be a good idea to use the down time to make a dent in translating the pillow book. I left the desk to pull a few books on ancient Demonic languages, set out all my writing supplies on my desk, and got to work.

I was glad I had chosen to stay awake.

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Translator's Note:

The following chapters are a literal translation, with some added literary flourish for flow, of Sethira's Pillow Book. Entities may be anthropomorphized for better understanding of events for mortals. Some stories may be entirely lies, or simple partial truths. Read carefully, and decide for yourself what you believe.

I implore you to read the following with respect for the entity who originally penned the words, her partner, and other respected "family" members. Though it may be difficult to agree with all of Sethira's actions, upon reading, they can at least be better understood.

Esme Elora