Kinverse: Volume One

PATH OF THE EMERALD MAIDEN

A naive young monster’s tale by Moros, aka KinverseWriter

Legal Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise herein mentioned. No copyright infringement is intended. All characters and events in this story are entirely fictional. Any similarity to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events, is purely coincidental. This work of fiction contains disturbing content.

Reader discretion is advised.

Description:

A young woman from a pre-neolithic society is accidentally whisked away to another world entirely during a raid on a research lab run by alien invaders. Stranded with no friends, badly injured, and no idea where home even is, she’s forced to live off the land and learn how to survive in this strange and hostile world.

There’s only one slight problem, though.

She’s not trapped in this world with them. They’re trapped in this world with her.

Categories:

Adventure, Coming-of-Age, Isekai, Erotica.

Disclaimers:

This story contains sexual elements and disturbing themes. The contents aren’t purely intended to be pornographic, but some scenes objectively are. This is about a giant monster that eats people, so reader discretion is advised. This story contains vorarephilic themes.

This story will have a very slow and intermittent pace to begin with. True stakes don’t really show up until halfway through, though the build-up is always there in the background. This is ultimately not a story of grand adventure and defeating one’s enemies to rise to the top, it is the tale of a lost and naive young woman growing as a person and learning new things. It is a personal one concerning her, and thus this story will be told in present-tense first-person.

Chapter 22: What’s in a Name?

---

The alien stares down at me.

“You. My name?”

Um... its name?

It wants me to guess? Or... what, give it one?

“Um... I... don’t know,” I reply in confusion.

It keeps staring but something shifts in its expression. Is that look disappointment? I think so.

“You no me name?”

Either it’s saying that I know its name--which we’ve established I don’t--or it is asking me to name it.

“I can name you, if you want a name?” I ask.

“Yes. Name. I want name. A name.”

Maybe it really is young then, to not have a name... but for a creature this big? That doesn’t make any sense, it’s gotta be fully grown!

"Let me, uh... let me look at you. I need to look at you." I point to my eyes and then gesture to it. "I want to look at you. I need to look at you."

It knew 'want' so hopefully it correctly conflates need. I point away. "Let me up? Up is not-down. I am down, you are down."

Our eyes meet. Brilliant green to my own blue. After a moment, the arms around me shift.

It releases me, and I gratefully leave its hard yet warm lap. I'm not done though so I turn back to its dark form.

"You, up. I need to look at you. Look," I say while repeating the eyes gesture.

What must be a look of comprehension marks its face and it begins to shift. As it does, I use the flashlight to get a better look at it.

The entire being is covered in chitinous plates of various sizes. Some cover much of their body while others might as well be scales--they probably are, actually. For some of the mid-sized ones I can’t help but think of a pangolin.

Its face is mainly covered by a few of these larger plates but their lips are mobile. The scales around their eyes and lips seem able to convey a decent amount of body language for something which otherwise appears quite brutal upon first impressions--something which further reinforces my belief that it must be intelligent. Humans evolved facial expressions as a method of communication, after all.

This creature does not look like it could emote as much as a human’s face otherwise could, but it’s still something.

They stand up, and up, only to bonk their head on the ceiling, and... fall to the side with a massive whumpf.

They don’t seem the steadiest while upright, apparently. That’s good to know... here’s hoping that I won’t need to make use of that information.

The alien stumbles to its feet awkwardly while rubbing its head and turns to face me, a wide smile splitting its head as it sits on its rear. It’s a happy critter, whatever it is--assuming they are smiling. This situation has only gotten weirder and weirder. One moment I’m on a nice walk, the next I’m running for my life. Then I crash into a tree, play peek-a-boo with an alien and a blanket, and promptly get into fisticuffs with said alien. Finally, I’m stuck in a cave, thrown around, and cuddled.

To top all of that off, I now have to give a name to the world’s largest ‘puppy.’

Okay. Let’s just ignore the weird for a moment and go with things I suppose.

It’s quite sharp. Spike? Nah, that’s too much of a puppy name. Why not a human name then?

Ah. Slight issue with that...

I don’t know what sex it is. If it’s a he, I can’t name him ‘Catherine’ after my aunt. If it’s a she, I can’t name her ‘Rex,’ which is admittedly still a bit too much of a dog’s name but would be passable. Marley is a nice name but that would just be weird. A thought inches from the back of my mind that brings blood to my cheeks.

I, uhm... suppose I’ll have to check. It’s naked anyway, this isn’t the time for modesty. And it’s not like I could ask.

Embarrassed, I point at its seated form. “Up, please.”

At first they begin to rise upright again, but they quickly think better of it and simply raise their rear legs, tail swishing. As I walk around to get a look, their head and eyes follow me. That longer neck is pretty odd--they’re like a wingless dragon with big plates. It’s not that long, perhaps a bit over half the length of one of its legs, but it’s still an odd feature to have on a creature of its configuration.

Smaug? Saphira? Toothless? The first might fit, the second... also might, the third wouldn’t at all--too many teeth. Speaking of teeth, that neck is even weirder on what is clearly at least a carnivore.

Its tail swishes back and forth, either agitated or excited. Continuing to use its legs as measurements, the tail is a bit longer than a leg and twice the length of the neck, as well as about a half as thick. It’s covered with interlocking plates presumably serving to both keep weight better distributed while still providing protection. No wonder it’s not very stable upright, it clearly can stand, but it’s just not built for it. On the end is the sword-like tail I saw in the shadows, which I’m careful to avoid. Once again keeping an eye out for disapproval I reach out to touch the tail.

The plates softly click as it shifts. It doesn’t have anywhere near as much range of motion that a furred tail would have but it makes up for that with its weight. It’s almost like the sharp end is an afterthought, and it’s simply a tail; a counterweight. Feeling it, the texture itself is rough and pitted--much like the rest of the creature--except for one of the rear legs for whatever reason. The leg in question looks much smoother and is a slightly lighter shade. An idea as to why that could be springs to mind, but I dismiss it as ludicrous.

Okay. Enough procrastinating. Moment of truth.

I push the tail aside without resistance. Curious eyes bore into me, likely wondering what I’m up to. Turning away and shining my light to its rear, I find...

I blush again. Female. That’s a gash, alright. For a moment I’m lost in the increasing weirdness of my situation before I release her tail and stand back up.

“Ahk-!”

Looking back up I jump in surprise! How did I not hear her move? She’s curled in a bit and her head is far closer, still eternally staring right at me with her large green eyes. Her face is simply that ever-present look of what I hope and believe is curiosity. No growling, and no bared teeth more than the usual.

And speaking of her eyes... hm. They are pretty vibrant. She’s female, and I’m not about to her name her Saphira, so how about...

“Emerald?” I say as I point to her. “Name?”

She tilts her head. “Emeral’?” she attempts to repeat, struggling with the ‘d’ sound.

“Emerald. Yes? No?”

“Emeral. Emeralll. Emeralduh. Emeral...duh.” Her smile disappears. Not a frown--it would be a cosmic miracle if that expression carried over too, but whatever her new expression is I can’t identify it. She doesn’t seem ‘happy’ like before.

Ah, what the hell. You work with what you’ve got.

“What about... Emeral, then? Yes? Emeral?”

She grins again. “Emeral. Emeral. Name. My name...”

A moment passes.

“Yes. My name. I Emeral. Thank you Carey.”

Well. That was easy.

‘Emerald’ is a beautiful name. She’s beautiful in a natural way as well. It’s probably for the best that she struggled with the ‘d’ a bit; this way the name is more... personal, I suppose. I return her ‘smile.’

“You are welcome, Emeral.”

My stomach rumbles, and her ears perk up. She stares at my belly, and quickly turns to leave.

Before she reaches the entrance, she turns her head back to me. “Down, Carey. No... up. You down.”

She wants me to stay here while she’s gone? The language barrier is a problem, but it’s amazing how much we can communicate with less than ten words. Despite kidnapping me she so far hasn’t given me much reason to doubt her intentions, so as she leaves, I remain and make no attempt to rush past her again.

The rock seals me in once more, alone.

---

Emeral.

I am Emeral.

And I have a name!

There’s a reason why the Kin use actions and events as names; not only is it because these things allow us to individualize ourselves, but it is also because they are simple. The tall intruders and... hm, Carey’s kin, use sounds. I suppose I should probably stop thinking of them as tall intruders. They are tall, but they are not the same tall intruder, and I do not even know if they are ‘intruders.’

I’ll ponder this later. Maybe I can pry what they call themselves out of her.

So: names. ‘Boundless’ is... two ‘scents.’ Boundless-Energy Unending-Hunter is four... parts, I suppose, adding up to six scents. Six thoughts. Six portions to the communication. To communicate ‘Emeral’ in our speech would require communicating the sound translated to smell. ‘Eh-mu-ra-l.’ Emeral.

Mother is Mother because it is who she is, and because it is one rather than four. Boundless is Boundless because it is two rather than six. But Emeral is four, and you could not refer to me without referring to the entire name.

Most names are either two parts together--like Mother’s name of Magmaseeker, kind of--or more like Boundless’ with only the first referred to, though that one is also technically two. This new one is a good name for a sound speaker, but a somewhat subpar one for a Kin. I still like it, though! It sounds nice! Except for that... duh. Bad. Do not like. Thus, I am Emeral. Not Emerald.

Technically, Mother’s name is four components, but they are two major with a modifier on each: stone (which is hot) and subject (looking for). Scentspeech is many minor variations on the same rough pheromone encoding into smell, with modifiers to explain slightly more advanced concepts like that.

In the end, it really doesn’t matter right now. What does matter is keeping my new... something, alive! What she is to me is yet to be determined. She was prey. She is not food, yet. She is not free and she is not Kin so she cannot be a friend. The closest concept that I know of is, well... livestock. But she is more than that. She is not a spoil of war to be dumped in a hole with food and water given occasionally to keep them alive for later consumption. She is useful in other ways!

I... think I feel something towards her. Not what I felt towards my prior female prey, despite her ogling. It’s something else. Something familiar and yet new.

Something... hiding beneath a root. She may not be food, but you are, small creature.

Something to take and do with as I will. Mine.

---

As the rock grinds out of the way, I consider not bothering with sealing it. So far this idea has worked a lot better than my old one for asserting dominance, but that could be because I removed her weapons successfully. I shift it back into place anyways.

Carey rises from a dark corner. Right where I left her! Good girl!

“Hrrlr, Rrr’ree!” I greet her, mouth occupied. I step over to her, and plop the live mouse at her feet. It squeaks in fear and runs behind her feet, perhaps thinking that she is a tree.

“Ahh! Emeral, [what the hell?]” she squeals.

“You,” I say while pointing to her belly. “You.”

“I [can’t eat that,] Emeral! [It’s a mouse! And it’s still alive, too!]”

I can’t understand most of that. ‘I,’ something something something, Emeral, something something word with emphasis that is perhaps a name, something something something something something. It might as well be the keening of a distraught broodling; it would have conveyed the same message.

I lift a foreclaw to point to my ear. “No... I, you.”

The mouse has since fled deeper into the cave’s darkness to hide amongst rocks. My first prey earlier today may have been a well-established and competent hunter but it seems that my second is wholly incompetent. How does she feed herself? Fruits and plants only? The hunter ate meat.

“No, I... Emeral, agh, [right.] You [can’t understand] me,” she replies. “You,” she continues while pointing to me, “no [can,]” she shakes her head, “[understand,]” now she points to her ears with both hands, “me.”

It’s rough, but it works. I no can [understand] her. Can must be ability to do. Understand while pointing to ear. I can hear her perfectly fine--just not understand what she’s saying, so she must be referring to that.

This is quite easy, actually. All I needed was a few objects for reference, words that describe said objects, and I’m learning rapidly!

“Carey no...” I reply before stopping to think. “Carey no...” I continue, this time gnashing my teeth. ‘Carey no eat?’ She should understand that. But how do I word it?

I sit staring in confusion for a moment before she herself speaks up.

“Carey no can... [eat.] ‘Can’t’ is ‘no can.’ I can’t eat [that,] Emeral,” she says, pointing in the direction of her hiding meal. She already referred to it as a mouse I think, so ‘that’ might be either another name for it or a general thing.

I point to a rock. “Carey can’t... eat... that?”

She looks to the rock, and back to me. She looks to the rock, and back to me again.

“I can’t eat that, Emeral. That is [a rock.]”

Well there’s confirmation. ‘A?’ A sound that modifies? A ‘rock?’ This is complicated! My people are lucky to be able to just intuitively understand each other no matter what!

So: she is unable to eat the mouse I brought her--and probably not because it got away since her first reaction was to recoil from it. My mind flashes back to the fire-tamer. Hm.

Things are done for a reason, aren’t they? Picky, picky Carey. They can eat meat, but that meat was not-burnt.

“I you-” gnash gnash gnash “-you no eat,” I say before turning my back to her. Oh, wait, she might take that the wrong way. It’s too early for that. Maybe. We’ll see.

She’s kind of growing on me, to be honest.

I stop and correct myself. “I no eat you, I eat that,” I say, and continue towards the rocks.

“Um... that’s... [good. Go ahead,] Emeral. That’s [fine.]”

Good. Fine. What are they? Positive or negative? She doesn’t seem to be trying to stop me, so I pick up a rock, grab the mouse hidden behind it, and throw the poor creature into my mouth, swallowing quickly. I turn back to her again.

“...[Oh.] I [thought] you [meant the rock].”

There’s that word ‘rock’ again, this time with something else in front. So it’s one word, perhaps the rock the mouse hid behind?

Whatever. I’ll fix this problem.

“Carey down, I up. I you no mouze, that not eat,” I order.

Her sounds are so flowing and beautiful while mine are poorly strung together. My voice was initially hoarse and gravelly from lack of use but it has steadily improved. There is still a deep hissing undercurrent tinging every word that will likely never disappear. Regardless, I am getting better. I want to be strong with words like she is! For now, different food. Picky picky picky! Even broodlings will eat whatever you put in front of them, and then the rocks underneath!

As I leave I take my bag with me. I know just what to grab for her! If she won’t eat meat, surely she will eat fruits?

Scrrrrape. Out I go. Scrrrrrape.

There’s a bush with many tiny fruits near the cave: berries. I pick it clean, and search for more. I pick two more bushes clean before returning.

Scrrrrraaape. In I come. Scrrrrrape.

Me and my muscles are getting really sick of this. With the bag’s strap in my mouth, I drop it at her feet now. She picks it up, unzips the top, and shines my borrowed light-projector within. She reaches in and takes one out, studying it under the light.

“[These are] fine, Emeral, thank you,” she says.

She accepts them, so ‘fine’ and therefore the earlier ‘good’ must be positive. I am learning! ‘These’ and ‘are,’ while referring to the berries. ‘These’ has that slight hissing sound like ‘that,’ so maybe it is similar, and maybe ‘are’ is like ‘is?’ However, that can’t be right--‘are’ sounds nothing like ‘is...’

Why do they have so many words that mean such similar things? What is different between them?

She stops for a moment and speaks to me again.

“‘Are’ is ‘is,’ ‘these’ is ‘that.’”

Wow, she read my mind! She may be bad at hunting but she’s strong in other ways I suppose. She would be a bad Kin, but perhaps a good Carey.

We sit across from each other in the cave, my bag in her lap while I lounge. She retrieves yet another water container, and from her coverings... something crackly that shines in the light. Oh? New thing? Its colorful appearance reminds me of the bad-drink container and yet it shifts like a bag. It is... soft sharp-rock, a seeming impossibility.

She peels it back and a new smell emerges: one slightly fruity and foreign. I was right to bring her the fruits then, clearly. In her hands is a strange tan, brown, and red bar. She takes a bite and washes it down with water before stuffing her face with a handful of berries. As she does this I eye the bar in her hand. I do quite like fruits, and this smells sweet. These berries are tiny and bitter, so what sort of fruit is this?

She bites, chews, and swallows before finally noticing my fascination. Looking down at the bar she stops for a moment in thought before sighing.

“Emeral... want it?”

“Want yes!” I quickly respond, ever curious of new foods.

She holds it out to me. “[Savor] it, that’s the [only one] I [have.]”

Delicately I reach out and take it from her hands. The Kin part of my mind screams to dart down and take it--perhaps hand and all--but I suppress my inner urges. There will always be time to taste her later. For now, I must study this new snack, and if she keeps feeding me, then that works too!

Sniff sniff, I smell as I bring it past my nose. It smells of sweet and plants unknown. It is slightly sticky in my claws, perhaps coated in the juice of berries. Unlike any berry I have ever seen or heard of it is oddly hard and yet soft at the same time. Compressible. Some berries have a hard shell and others are dense and firm, but never like this. It is as if it is many small berries pressed together, each an individual piece. I’ve seen some of the less offensive birds back home eating these odd bits before.

I pop it in my mouth much like the mouse before. Unlike the mouse, this is a new taste so I swish it around, tasting it all over before lightly biting down with a molar. It gives and crunches, and the lack of juices flowing out confirms it: this is no fruit, it is many become one. A created-fruit. It is dense, and has an interesting taste. It is like fruit in many ways and yet just isn’t in all the ways that matter. It is sweet, but not soft nor pulpy. Once I’m done, I swallow.

I finish our meal by taking my bag back and emptying the water containers from it before turning it over above my mouth. Berries pour in--though a few miss and bounce off of my snout. Swallowing my bounty I smile and return the bag to her. Removed from the plant, the berries will go bad, so seeing as she is done she won’t mind, right?

She gives me a look, one that I have yet to see before, let alone identify. Did she want more?

“You yes eat? You no want I eat?” I ask.

The look drops a bit. “No, I no want. That [isn’t] it. [It’s]--um, it is fine,”

She turns away but figuratively side-eyes me as I think.

Isn’t. ‘Can’t’ is ‘no can,’ er, ‘can no,’ so maybe isn’t is... ‘is no’? I’ll assume so. And her correction... ‘it’s.’ A word to pay attention to the context of. It’s like the word ‘it,’ but with a ‘s’ sound.

We sit in silence for a time. Carey simply stares into the darkness with the light-projector off, presumably to save the light for later. But all of sudden, she perks up; has she thought of something?

“Hey, Emeral. I [have an idea.] Want to [play] a [game?] she asks.

An. A? I’m sensing a theme.

“Playh gaym?”

But what is play and what is a game?

“Yeah. It’s [something] you can [do to pass the time.]”

I stare blankly at her before she realizes.

“Oh. [Right.] Um... it is a... hm. I’ll [just show] you.”

The benefit to her speaking in words that I do not know is that I can perhaps know them. One day I will understand her.

For now, she takes out her small sight-sound rectangle she had at first used for light. It is a very strange device, being a miniature mixing of two creations. She makes it release light, sets my bag down, and places the device upon it pointing its beam up. The light spreads out through the cave, allowing her to see.

“This is rock [paper scissors.] You rock, [paper, or scissor. Only one.]”

‘Only one,’ she says. I don’t have enough context for that--maybe this will allow me to learn. That’s smart, if it’s her intention.

Without further explanation, she begins making strange gestures with her dextrous hands.

“Rock-” with her hand clenched in a fist somewhat resembling a rock, “[-paper-]” with her fingers extended out flat together, “[-and scissors,]” she finishes, having retracted two fingers and her thumb. After demonstrating, she balls up her hand again and shakes it thrice while reciting the ‘name:’ “Rock, paper, scissors.”

On the third shake she opens her hand into the second gesture: ‘paper.’

I point at it. “Payhpuw?” I ask.

“Yes. Paper. Paper [beats] rock, [but scissors beat paper,]” she explains before yet again taking a moment to think before continuing. “Paper eat rock, rock eat scissors, scissors eat paper.”

Ohhhh. I get it. One bests the other in a triangular food chain! Also interestingly, ‘beat’ and ‘eat’ sound pretty similar and she used them interchangeably. They must mean similar things then!

“You rock paper scissor, Emeral.”

Okay, this could be interesting. I ball up my claw and recite the phrase. “Wock, payhpuw, sizzows,” I say while shaking it and ending with two claws out: “Scizzorrrs. Scissssooors.”

“Good! Now do it again.”

This time, she prepares her own hand too. This is cooperative?

“Rrrrock, payperr, scizsors,” and this time I extend all of my claws out. Carey keeps her own hand bunched, having shaken it too and joined in with reciting the phrase. This is strange but intriguing.

“Huh, I’m [surprised] you [changed.] Paper eats rock, you [win.]”

I ‘win’? What does this mean? Does it mean I’m supposed to... eat a rock? Why would she ask me to eat a rock? Do I eat her? Why a rock of all things? I stare at her clenched hand.

“Rock is that, Emeral,” she interjects, pointing to a stone in the corner.

Okay, she definitely has to have figured out my facial expressions, she keeps chiming in whenever I’m confused. I’d already figured that out, so she definitely isn’t able to read my mind.

“I not want eat rock.”

She simply sighs in response.

---

A/N:

Emeral.

Coming up with a name was a pain--I’m not good with names. It wasn’t until a few days prior to writing this chapter--which was about a month and a half in of writing this project--that I finally settled on a name for the other aliens as seen in chapter 19. This is also the meta reason behind why the Kin call themselves the Kin in the first place, even if there’s a logical in-story explanation. Many cultures’ names for ‘human’ are their term for ‘people’ after all, and the Kin don’t even have a language like we do, so rather than conlang... it’s just Kin.

Anyways. Emerald Maiden. It’s a name that doesn’t really seem tied to anything until now, but in retrospect is exactly on-point. This is the story of Emeral, a young and naive Kin lost in a strange place on her maiden voyage into adulthood. ‘Maiden’ is a Kin term for exactly what she is: an uncoupled female.

Also, her eyes are green.

I didn’t have any better names, to be honest.

Now then, some specifics on what exactly scentspeech is. Get ready for a world-building info-dump, or feel free to skip this. The only reason I am giving you this information is because it is deeplore; it does not factor into the first book of the planned series whatsoever. The only times it is ever referenced are this chapter and chapter 19. It will play a substantially larger part in the second part, though a lesser one in the third and fourth.

Scentspeech is composed of what is effectively many binary strings in pheromone format to convey the idea of emotions, sounds, and concepts. The more complicated a concept, the more components are required to convey it. Words come with modifiers that can further change the meaning. In a way, it’s pretty much English but more convoluted and you smell it.

In Kinverse, concepts already generally understood to the Kin are simply referred to by their actual English name rather than the broken-down explanation. For concepts that are discovered and eventually fully understood, their English name will get phased in when it makes sense for it to be, such as how bag has entered Emeral’s internal vernacular.

Further distinguishing it from a spoken vocabulary is that scentspeech isn’t one-and-done--while it does require being close enough to receive it, the actual speech ‘echoes’ and can remain until it breaks down or disperses, depending on a few factors such as complexity and intention.

Kin can strengthen or weaken their scentspeech, influencing how long it will be understandable and therefore how far it can also spread. Especially strong scents are a visible misting spray. When a Kin dies and it isn't instant, they often death-rattle everything into a very long-lasting speech--this turns sites of mass Kin death into morbid graveyards, at least until it rains.

The longer the speech, the faster it decays, making long-term scents infeasible for more than a few components unless very regularly refreshed. Kin mark their territories in this manner with a simple affiliation scent.

Finally, a question answered: why is Boundless’ name so long? And what’s with the hyphens? Well, two simple answers: the hyphens are because ‘Boundless’ and ‘Unending’ are modified by ‘less’ and ‘ing’ respectively, and because it isn’t actually all one name, it’s two. Boundless-Energy is her first and later informal name, whereas Unending-Hunter is her second and formal name.

Simply put, she has the first name as a result of her frenetic boundless wellspring of energy and seemingly always wanting to be the center of attention. She has the second one out of earned respect from stamina during long hunts. The first is an acknowledgement and literal name based on a characteristic of her, but the second is an acknowledgement of her actions. Kin such as this are a bit rare, but both names are proper to use.

The name of their mother, Magmaseeker, is a name born from acknowledged action so it is her only name as she lacks physical distinguishing characteristics. Using both the informal and formal names at once isn’t done unless explaining her names to others. It’s basically all about context.

And one final bit to this very long author’s note: facial expressions. The Kin facial expression for happiness is to smile, with the more teeth showing, the happier they are--this originates from an open mouth indicating a readiness to converse. The Kin facial expression for sadness is to scrunch up their lips--this originates from an unwillingness to converse.