The Eighth Self: Episode 1 (raw)

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The Eighth Self: Episode 1 (raw)
Source: collected/041-the-eighth-self-episode-1-raw.mp3
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Model: scribe_v2 | Transcribed: 2026-10-10T18:18:13.975741+00:00
Machine transcript — uncorrected. Speaker labels are local to this recording and do not identify people.

[00:00:00.100] Speaker 1: The Eighth Self. Chapter One. Kitsari. Meeting Place.

[00:00:35.720] Speaker 1: Catrilla followed her father behind the stage of the Kitsari, wondering if this was the night they would kill him. The seating area was filled, which was usual. The standing areas were also filled, which was not. If the Torrents were going to have him killed, this would be the easiest opportunity. The standing area was closest to the stage and put him in close proximity to an assassin. Her father, the servant prime, the supposed lowest point of society, a man who only served the servants, the people who served all of society. If he

[00:01:10.660] Speaker 1: was beneath everyone in the city district, then why were people trying to kill him? Could he really be so unimportant? No, it made sense, Catrilla thought. He's beneath everyone in the sense that he supports them all, like the supporting pillar of a building. A pillar is not less than the roof, merely beneath it. She pulled her mirror array out of her pocket and fanned out the six color-tinted mirrors. The seventh silver mirror got caught and had to be forced into view. The seven selves looked back at her. Catrilla could hear the distant sounds of the Kitsari

[00:01:45.420] Speaker 1: crowd. She continued to follow her father on his slow march to the podium, but fell back about a dozen feet in order to look at the mirrors. Am I thinking too much? I feel like I'm thinking too much. She whispered to the seven selves. Absolutely. Stop thinking about paying attention and actually pay attention instead, Violet told her. This matters. It's worth some thinking, Red shot back. It wasn't unusual for those two to be in opposition, though. But what did the

[00:02:20.420] Speaker 1: moderates think? Yellow merely smiled and shrugged. Orange wasn't really paying attention. I don't think you should be consulting us now, Blue said, indifferent. Just make sure you and everyone you meet remembers your name, Green said. Catrilla started to close the mirror array. Her tinted green reflection danced around urgently in its little mirror frame. And make sure you meet everyone. Your name. Say your name.

[00:02:56.060] Speaker 1: And then the voice was cut off as the mirrors were folded closed and the reflection disappeared. That had been less than helpful. Blue was right. She didn't like it when Catrilla wasted time talking to herself. They were nearly to the back of the stage now, so she had to jog to catch up to her father. She wasn't security. Technically, the prime servant didn't have any security. He couldn't, as he was the servant to everyone else. Practically speaking, people gave him clothes, kept him fed, gave him a place to sleep, and kept him

[00:03:31.120] Speaker 1: alive without being asked to do so. He never asked for these things, but in an unspoken rule, it was made clear they were given to him in trade for his service to everyone. He wasn't allowed to demand service of others, so everything had to be given to him. In theory, that meant he was the only person who could be trusted to speak honestly on behalf of his district's people, since he was the only one with absolutely both everything to lose and nothing to gain by betraying them. Strangely, this elevated him again to a sort of figurehead position, a voice for everyone.

[00:04:06.840] Speaker 1: And there was no shortage of people who wanted the voice of everyone silenced. Catrilla tapped Violet, then walked out ahead of her father and scanned the crowd with the emotionless, unashamed precision the task demanded. There were no known dissidents in the first few rows. No one that looked overly suspicious, anyway. She was pleased to see that most of the first few rows were filled out by volunteers that she'd asked to be there, people she trusted and would be watching her for any signs of problems. She released Violet and tapped both Yellow and Green at the same time. A

[00:04:41.860] Speaker 1: flood of thoughts and emotions hit her so hard she nearly fell to the floor. She released them immediately. Bad idea. Catrilla steadied herself, then paced along the edge of the stage, looking down the few feet to the ground. It would at least slow anyone trying to get to him. The Prime Servant had suggested on multiple occasions, very loudly to empty rooms, that he wished the stage would be lowered beneath the height of the standing crowd. So far, though, no one seemed to have taken up his pleas. That was the trouble with being beneath everyone. When they

[00:05:16.880] Speaker 1: thought you were being stupid, they were welcome to ignore you. And no one ignored Tiyango more than Catrilla, the only daughter of the man who served everyone but could ask nothing of anyone. If Tiyango was the voice of the people, Catrilla was the maid, cook, secretary, and chamber pot cleaner of the people. As it turned out, a lot of people were willing to shake the Prime Servant's hand, but not many were willing to wash his sheets or apply balm to his aching feet. The standing crowd of the Katari

[00:05:51.820] Speaker 1: erupt into cheers as Tiyango walked onto the stage. On the sitting level above, a negligible portion of the crowd clapped politely. Hello. Hello. Tiongco folded his hands and bowed to the crowd before him. They hushed almost immediately. Her father was known to tell stories before speaking on current events. The stories always seemed deliberately frustrating, though. Long, winding fables that seemed to end without any obvious lesson to them. Tonight, I plan to share the story of the

[00:06:26.696] Speaker 1: ivy and the eucalyptus. Katriella tapped violet again, then tapped as much blue as she could handle. She felt the world slow around her, her father's words slurred into slow motion. She scanned the crowd, the blue in her drawing her eyes to the oddities. A woman with a strange hat. No, just a foreign fashion. Two men with arms crossed and sour looks on their faces. Mm, potential threats, but far enough from the stage to handle. Keep an eye on them. She saw a man with decorative

[00:07:01.216] Speaker 1: eyeglasses, a woman with only one arm, a man with no shirt and gang tattoos. Katriella saw them all. She saw everything so fast that she wasted most of her time simply waiting for her eyeballs to move around the room. A man with a large scarf faced the wrong direction, a servant in the seating area that she didn't recognize. She had time to survey the entire room as time crawled by for everyone else. Katriella felt her thinking grow sluggish, her train of thought winding in odd circles. That was the trouble with blue, the side effects built

[00:07:36.296] Speaker 1: up quickly. If she didn't release the blue soon... A bald man with painted fingernails just ten feet from the stage. She released the blue and the world sped up and zoomed out at the same time. She braced herself. The backlash pounded her brain like a drum. Nausea and pain washed over her in a wave. Katriella fought the seizure, forcing her hand out as she fell to the stage. She pointed at the bald man before collapsing to the stage, breathing in huge, ragged breaths. Tapping blue sped up your mind, but your mind needed air to

[00:08:11.336] Speaker 1: function. It needed pumping blood to clean it out. In those ways, tapping blue was a lot like holding your breath. It wasn't the store of blue potential that would hold you back. Usually, it was how awful it felt to hold it. Her father stopped speaking and helped Katriella to her feet. Her legs didn't work yet. They would come back soon, probably. Katriella hated interrupting him, but she knew something was wrong. A dozen people with a rainbow of colors in their hair moved casually from the front rows through the crowd, converging on

[00:08:46.316] Speaker 1: the place where Katriella had pointed. The bald man was already pushing his way to the exit. Unfortunately, he'd seen them coming. Kat, breathe. You need to breathe. Satsun. She was standing again, but still leaning heavily on him for support. Tiongco looked out at the crowd. They were muttering, concerned about... About what? Oh, they thought she was hurt. Katriella made a few pitiful groans and put a hand to her forehead. Might as well play it up.

[00:09:21.336] Speaker 1: At the same time, she watched the bald man make for the front door just before her security could intercept. Katriella scowled. This was going to hurt. She tapped blue again. The world zoomed in and slowed down at the same time. She watched the bald man with painted fingernails glance once at her on the stage, then slip out the front door onto the crowded street. Katriella tried to memorize every detail of his face. He could be a killer. He could be a spy. He could... She really needed air. Katriella released the blue and

[00:09:55.876] Speaker 1: screamed in agony. She took a single gasping breath, then immediately tapped red. The flood of painkillers hit the searing agony and relief billowed through her. Katriella limped off the stage and waved a thanks to her father, who looked genuinely concerned but stayed at the podium. The red made it easy to make a show of actually feeling okay. Don't worry about me. I'm just the idiot who blue-burned themselves in front of three hundred people. Nothing to see here. Flashes of red pulsed behind her eyes with each new step like little red

[00:10:30.916] Speaker 1: bolts of lightning. Katriella doubled the red she was tapping. Not good, not good. She was about to take a floor nap. Too much. Too much blue. She was nearly off the stage by the time she realized her mistake. The woman with one arm had unrolled her empty sleeve. She had a throwing knife in one hand. She was bringing her hand back for a throw. Tiongco was already addressing the crowd. No one else had seen. It was a ruse. The bald man with painted fingernails,

[00:11:06.076] Speaker 1: just a distraction from the real... A silver blur spun through the air toward her father. The world went black as Katriella tried to scream. Chapter two. Undura. Shadow. Lenau sat at the end of her bed. He didn't try to open the shutters and let the light in, like Auntie Mota. He didn't try to tell her a story about

[00:11:41.096] Speaker 1: the good times, like Otafu had. He simply sat at the end of the bed, soaking in the same misery that she'd steeped in for three days. Lenau rolled his head to face Katriella. Kat, there's been something I've been meaning to ask you. Don't want to talk. Please. It's important. I don't want to talk Please, just hear me out. Fine. Lanau cleared his throat. You, uh, got any dream leaf? I'm really tired of feeling normal. Catrilla threw a

[00:12:15.976] Speaker 1: pillow at him. Then, because he deflected it, she kicked him in the chest. She kicked him again. Seriously? That's what you're gonna ask me? [laughs] I just thought, you know, you'd had some. Me? He shrugged. Uh, guessed I really wasted my time here. Well, see you later. Catrilla kicked him again, more playful this time. Get out of here. You're supposed to take this seriously. Lanau put his hands up in surrender, then walked out of the room, leaving her in the gloom,

[00:12:51.336] Speaker 1: steeping in the malaise of failure. For three days she'd moped about failing to save her father from an attack, and in the end, Lanau had known exactly what to do to cheer her up. He'd also been considerate enough to let her suffer for three days before stepping in. That pain was important to her. If anyone understood her insane little life, it was him. Catrilla left her room and walked to the common area of the servant building. Servants bowed to her as she passed them. She never liked that. Unlike everyone else

[00:13:26.316] Speaker 1: in the hovel, Catrilla wasn't a servant. Technically, this was their home. Most servants were only home long enough to get a brief moment's rest before returning to work. Lately, many of them had only been coming home every other day. Times were hard in their district of Aruntu. Times were hard in all of Catala, and the servants responded how they always did, by working harder. It felt wrong making them bow to her in their own homes. Catrilla nodded politely and hurried off to the clinic. She paused outside the door and

[00:14:01.396] Speaker 1: took a deep breath. She flipped open her pocket mirror array for the first time since that night. A flood of voices hit her all at once. You poor thing, Yellow said. What were you thinking? Green screamed at her. Lack of self-control, Blue muttered. I have to agree, Violet said. I don't like how you fell asleep. You gave up and you know it. I'm withdrawing support, Orange said. Hold on, hold on. One at

[00:14:36.436] Speaker 1: a time. And don't withdraw until I've at least explained myself. I don't need an explanation. You fell over like a sad, floppy little fish. That pitiful display was all I needed to see. Her orange reflection jumped around, overly animated in her tiny mirror frame. Catrilla flipped a few locks of her hair around to the front. The orange locks quickly faded to black. She groaned. Orange was easily lost, but easily won back too. Once this next task was done, she could probably just run the district blocks

[00:15:11.436] Speaker 1: to win her over again. Orange respected enthusiasm, determination. Red hadn't spoken yet. She looked to the right, a worried look on her face. Catrilla followed her gaze, in the real world, down the hall. It was just an empty hall. Could her red reflection see something different in there? And what do you think, Red? Am I a complete failure of a daughter? Are you going to tell me what a weakling I am for passing out from a little blue? Orange nodded enthusiastically at that last part. Red glanced back at Catrilla,

[00:15:46.416] Speaker 1: distracted. Oh, what? No, it wasn't your fault. Not really. Learn from this mistake. It could have been worse. Then she went back to looking off to the right, searching for something. What are you looking for, Red? I keep hearing something. Wait, did we do Dreamleaf? Orange said. I think we would remember that, right? Yellow asked. Catrilla ignored their banter and watched Red curiously. It wasn't like her to be so quiet. What do you hear? It's a... It's like a

[00:16:21.296] Speaker 1: scratching sound. Mm, never mind. Listen, Catrilla, just get back on our feet. Time stops for no one. Training starts again today. Personally, I think you need to practice holding Blue. Great. That was exactly what she wanted more of. Splitting headaches and seizures. Fine. She wanted to tell herself to eat dirt. She wanted to go back to her room and just lay in the gloom again. But that's not how you improve, so it was fine. You just do that in the

[00:16:56.136] Speaker 1: hallway, huh? Ahem. You just do that in the hallway, huh? Catrilla looked up from herself. A nurse was standing there, hand on one hip, disgust written on her face. The other woman wouldn't be able to hear the voices or see her distinct moving impressions. But it was pretty obvious that she was reflecting. Some people considered that a private thing. And so what? What did Catrilla care if other people saw her reflecting? It was a natural thing to

[00:17:30.916] Speaker 1: do. It was a beautiful thing to do. We were a sad, floppy little fish, Orange said. She made fish lips at Catrilla and crossed her eyes. Catrilla fanned the mirror array closed and put it back in her pocket. She couldn't help but notice the nurse had a plain, dark hair. And the green eyes and light skin that marked her as a foreigner. A Torrentian foreigner, too. That explained it, then. It also explained her attitude. Oh, I don't mind reflecting anywhere. I have to keep my hair pretty. You

[00:18:05.356] Speaker 1: understand. Well, at least the others do it behind closed doors. Seems the sensible thing to do. That was all Katrilla needed to hear. She clenched a fist and stepped up to the nurse with her chin up. She tapped enough red to make veins bulge on her arms. She felt her neck swell and stiffen. You might be able to get away with word daggers where you come from, but in Fatala we treat a dagger like a dagger. If you want to strike me, strike me. She said, spreading her arms. They felt as light as balsa

[00:18:40.404] Speaker 1: wood, but strong. She would enjoy throwing this woman across the room if it came to that. The nurse looked completely bewildered. Being called out on her sly attacks must be a novel experience. Torinchan's weren't used to this level of directness. She skittered away down the hall and Katrilla released the red. Her father's door was left open. Tiango was awake and sitting up in bed. He watched her, his face unreadable. Great. So far, she'd been able to make her daily visits while he was asleep.

[00:19:15.584] Speaker 1: Until now. Katrilla knew she should be happy he was recovering, but couldn't quite shake the shadow of guilt. You showed that person exactly who she expected to see. Is that what you intended? The bandages around his neck were no longer stained red, but he still looked pained. The knife hadn't missed him after all. It just hadn't killed him. But it had gotten close. Far, far too close. Katrilla grimaced and turned away from him. She looked out the window instead. There were so many flower wreaths piled up

[00:19:50.204] Speaker 1: outside the window that she could barely see out. We can't let them push us around. Tolerance is permission, father. This is still our city. True. But our country must change. Adapt if it is to survive this revolution. Katrilla started to speak, but her father folded his hands and closed his eyes. The surgeon had told him not to bow until his wound healed. Our culture must change too. So we should just throw away our traditions then? Live like the Torrents and worship coins? Or

[00:20:24.904] Speaker 1: perhaps we should skip all that and just burn and destroy like the Badlands nomads? Tiango tapped the side of his neck and his eyes watered. She was pushing him too hard. But what this man thought mattered. If he was caving to foreign influence, others would follow. Katrilla needed to stamp out this madness before he spread it. Each person has something to teach. Each culture. Refusing to change does not insulate us from it.

[00:21:00.084] Speaker 1: A little trail of blood ran down his neck and Katrilla winced. This was going too far. Let me get you a pencil instead. Hear me. If we choose to change, we can shape it. If we fight change, we will lose that choice. Tiango collapsed back to the pillows. Tears flowed from his scrunched up face. That is not the will of the people. What would those who clothe you think? Those who feed you? Those who treated your wounds?

[00:21:35.324] Speaker 1: Do you really think they are interested in compromise with the Torrents? Tiango kept his eyes shut and grimaced. It's what they need. Katrilla was fuming. The Prime Servant's role was not to decide what their district needed, but to interpret and understand the views of its people. The world was changing, true, but it didn't have to. If everyone in every district of Aruntu, if every city in the entire country of Katala would just force the foreigners out, this could all be solved in a

[00:22:10.284] Speaker 1: day. Without bloodshed, without endless argument. Someone tapped her on the shoulder. She spun around. The Torinchian nurse stood there flanked by three large Torinchian men in a uniform she didn't recognize. Once the nurse had led them in to Katrilla, she walked off in a hurry. Thank you, Ria. One of the men stepped forward and put a firm hand on Katrilla's shoulder. You need to leave the building immediately. Then he forcefully turned her around and shoved her a few steps down the hallway. The other two men stepped up on either side of her

[00:22:45.224] Speaker 1: while they forced her to march down the hallway. You can't make me leave. This isn't your building. Last night we were authorized to keep the peace in the White Leaf District during civil unrest. Civil unrest? What was this green eye talking about? We'll keep watch over the Prime Servant. Keep walking. Yeah, like she was really going to leave her father with the very people who'd tried to murder him. Where was the rest of her security? She'd been out of touch for a while. While she'd been pouting, basically.

[00:23:20.884] Speaker 1: Katrilla turned around and planted her feet. If they wanted a fight, let them throw the first punch. Make me. She tapped green. The man on the right was going to take her arm and twist it, hopefully pinning her to the wall. The man on the left would wait for orders. The man in the middle Well, he was trying to do something she didn't understand. Katrilla easily stepped away from the first man's grab, having seen it coming. It looked so casual he might have assumed that she'd dodged it by accident. She tapped orange and Nothing happened. Crap. She'd forgotten that orange was

[00:23:55.664] Speaker 1: upset with her. The man who missed his first grab intended to sweep her legs next, so she tapped enough red to make her eyes bulge. When the kick connected with the back of her knees, it stopped. The Torinchian grunted in pain and stumbled away, rubbing at his shin as if he'd kicked a wall. She released the red for a moment, waiting for the next attack. The red backlash hit her, but tried to look as if nothing were wrong. She'd only been standing there, after all, while they attacked her. The man who'd hesitated intended to move in for a bear hug. Catrilla tapped blue. She felt the world

[00:24:30.668] Speaker 1: slow and zoom in. While the man was still spreading his arms, Catrilla began to duck and spin. It took forever for her body to respond. She got to see her assailant's surprise in slow motion as she preempted his next lunge. He tried to correct for her dodge, but it was easy to pivot away when everything moved so slowly. Catrilla released the blue before it was too late. It burned fast, and she didn't need a repeat of the last incident. The world sped up, and the man fell to the floor beside Catrilla, losing his balance as she completed the dodge.

[00:25:05.968] Speaker 1: The backlash hit her immediately. She had to prop herself up against the wall while the worst of it subsided. She couldn't understand why their leader had simply sat there watching his friends be made fools of. She still had green tapped. All her green could tell her was that he intended to peel her? What did that mean? Catrilla glanced down at her fingernails. One of the red fingernails had changed back to skin tone, but the other two were still bright red. Plenty of potential, then, to deal with this guy. She wouldn't even need orange. Their leader stepped forward for a strike. She

[00:25:40.988] Speaker 1: tapped as much red as she could, lifted her chin, and stood there defiantly to take the blow. His hand came down on her head as an open-handed slap. A bizarre fighting technique, she thought. His hand bounced right off her head. And then she fell out of her body. Catrilla lay on the floor, looking up at the three men who held her limp body in their hands. That That was her. She watched their leader lift her up over his shoulder and start walking down the hall. This wasn't

[00:26:15.608] Speaker 1: possible. It wasn't You should follow us, he said without looking back. It may be a few hours until you can re-enter your body. I don't know if it will be moved and I don't want you to lose it. Catrilla watched the four of them go down the hall. It wasn't real. She looked down at her hands. They were still there, but translucent. When she walked, no sound came out. When she screamed, no sound came out. So she chased after the men who stole her body. Just before she got

[00:26:50.568] Speaker 1: to the door, she turned around. There was a sensation of being followed and an odd sound in the distance. No matter how she turned her head, it always seemed to come from the same direction. A fixed point and yet nowhere at all. A faint scratching sound, like something small clawing at a door. As she jogged after her body, questions flooded her mind. She wondered if this was what it was like to go insane and if she could stop it somehow. How would she know what was

[00:27:25.368] Speaker 1: real and what wasn't? And most important of all, how soon would she be able to get back into her body, find the people who'd done this, and kick them between the legs?