Inside & Out Ch 2: A Dirty Destiny, A Morning with Tiny Helpers!

(Kael) My eyes burned. Stung, really, like someone had taken a handful of sand and just shoved it right in there for fun. Probably a side ef

(Kael)

My eyes burned. Stung, really, like someone had taken a handful of sand and just shoved it right in there for fun. Probably a side effect of standing knee-deep in dried excrement, hacking away at the crusted-over filth that caked the flesh-like ground beneath me. Just another Zypharae, just another Luthraesday morning.

Oh, what, you don't know what Luthraesday is? Yeah, back when we still lived on ships, we had a thing called a "week." We don't really do that anymore, since time works a little differently inside a living being the size of a small moon, but the old customs stuck. Luthraesday is basically what you would call a "Monday." And yes, it sucks just as much.

"Hope you're not slacking off."

I wiped the sweat from my forehead with the back of my glove before turning to see Jaleth, my closest friend and world-class pain in the ass, standing there with his usual lopsided grin. He leaned on his shovel like he hadn't just started barely five minutes ago.

"Hey, I'm not like you," I shot back, tossing another dried shard of excrement into my bucket with a thunk. "I actually finish my quota."

Jaleth snorted. "Wow, you filled three buckets already? Overachiever."

"Unlike some people, I like to get my work done before the Goddess wakes up and accidentally sweats me out of existence."

"Well, either way, I think it's time for a break," Jaleth said, stretching dramatically, as if he had been doing the most back-breaking labor of his life. "The host'll be waking up soon, anyway. Let's turn in our work before the floor starts shifting."

I sighed and hoisted my bucket over my shoulder. The stench had long since become part of the background of my life, but it didn't make it any less disgusting. Jaleth and I walked along the soft, warm surface of the Divine Flesh, our boots making slight indents in the porous ground.

"I wish things were different," I muttered, kicking a loose chunk of dried excrement off to the side. "I wish I could do more."

Jaleth glanced at me, and I could already tell what he was going to say.

"This is how it is, Kael. The ones who do the important things are the Reds and the Yellows. We do what we can."

I clenched my jaw. That was the answer every Blue got, the same line we were told since childhood. You're a Blue, you do the jobs no one else wants. Accept it.

"Shoveling shit? That's really all we're good for?" I growled.

Jaleth smirked and counted on his fingers. "Shoveling shit, food extraction from those massive teeth, dead skin removal from her toes and fingers, hollowing out hair follicles for new housing, snot removal from that colossal nose—"

"Okay, please stop." I groaned, rubbing my temples as we approached the drop-off point. Just ahead of us, the ground sloped downward toward the Great Maw, the dark, cavernous anus where waste was repurposed into biofuel. Even with the artificial barriers set up, the stench was unreal.

Jaleth nudged my shoulder. "Look, I know you want more. But this is what we do. This is what Blues have always done. And hey—our work is important! The Goddess's, uh... bodily processes are a vital energy source for our people! Take pride in that."

"Yeah, I guess," I muttered.

And then the world began to shake.

The Goddess was waking up.

A deep, rhythmic tremor pulsed through the ground, a sensation I had felt every morning of my life. The heat around us intensified as her vast, incomprehensible body stirred from its slumber. From the distant expanse of flesh and bone that stretched endlessly in all directions, a low, almost imperceptible rumble vibrated through the air.

Jaleth straightened, then placed his right fist over his left chest.

"Glory to Charlotte!"

Around us, the other Zypharae stopped their work and followed suit, fists pressed to chests in solemn salute. I did the same, my heart pounding as the tremors grew stronger.

Above us, the sky—the inner sky, a vast dome of soft pink luminescence—flushed with new warmth as our living world awakened. I took a deep breath, pushing down the restless longing in my chest.

This was life.

This was our destiny.

But I still couldn't shake the feeling that I was meant for more.

***

(Charlotte)

I woke up to the familiar, unwelcome sensation of itching.

Not the soft, tolerable kind you get from a stray hair tickling your skin—no, this was asshole itching. Deep, persistent, and entirely too specific for first thing in the morning.

I groaned, shifting in bed, trying my best not to clench.

"Well, good morning, little ones," I mumbled, rubbing the sleep from my eyes as I sat up.

This was the routine. It had always been like this, for as long as I could remember. The Zeyvaris—tiny, hardworking, way-too-dedicated for their own good—were already up, already doing their daily maintenance, already deep in their work. Unfortunately for me, that meant their little housekeeping duties sometimes happened in places that were... private.

Like, very private.

I let out a slow breath, forcing myself to relax as the tickling continued. I knew they weren't trying to be intrusive, but seriously—why there?

"I mean, what could you possibly want with my shit?" I muttered, shifting again. "I really hope it's not too stinky for you."

Not that it mattered. The Zeyvaris had some crazy technology that let them convert anything from my body into usable energy or resources. Hair, sweat, dead skin, and—yes—poop. Nothing went to waste.

Still, I was never going to be used to it.

Thankfully, after another few seconds, the tickling sensation stopped. I let out a relieved sigh.

"Alright, mission complete, I guess," I mumbled before tossing off my blankets and swinging my legs over the bed. The floor was cool against my feet as I stretched, already feeling a thousand percent better now that my butt wasn't under siege.

I padded over to the bathroom, yawning as I grabbed my toothbrush. Technically, I didn't need to brush my teeth. The Zeyvaris were really good at cleaning my body—every part of it. But still, I liked to put in a little effort. Felt weird letting them do everything.

As I scrubbed my teeth, I glanced down at my arm, focusing my vision.

And there they were.

At first, they just looked like tiny specks, barely noticeable against my skin. But as I focused harder, I could actually see them—my little Zeyvaris—working between my arm hairs, moving with precision, carrying out whatever task they had lined up for today.

They always knew when I was watching them.

Immediately, they froze.

I couldn't see their faces—not at this size—but from the way they reacted, I could tell they were afraid. Like they thought at any moment I'd suddenly smash them, or blow them off my skin in some cruel act of boredom.

I quickly averted my gaze. "Oh! Sorry."

They always ran when I looked at them. I wasn't sure why. I mean, no Elytharian hated them. Why would we? Because of the Zeyvaris, our bodies were stronger, healthier—hell, we could even live longer. Some Elytharians had been alive for thousands of years. Some might even be immortal. And it was all because of them.

They were incredible.

I lowered my arm and finished brushing my teeth. Even though I knew I could move however I wanted and never crush them, I still tried to be careful sometimes. Like right now—it was almost time for my morning shower.

I glanced over at my shower, waiting for my body to stop tingling.

That was the signal.

Elytharian senses were naturally heightened, and thanks to our little friends, we could always feel them at work. As long as my skin tickled or itched, it meant they were still finishing up their morning tasks.

But now?

Nothing.

No tickling. No itching. No sensation at all.

"Alright," I said with a grin, stepping toward the shower. "Guess it's shower time."