Per 
Pain.
That was the first thing I felt.
Pain. Physical pain. Pain so violent I had to scream.
I had no mouth.
Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain.
It stopped.
My eyes opened. My beaks sucked in, then I sighed. My maws clutched at the ground, red hunks of meat slithering out and tasting the ground.
"Where… where am… I?" Those were my first words.
My answer was the weeping behind me. I turned to see my mother being violated by a massive, red thing. For a brief moment, our eyes met. I saw, in him, so much. Pain, death, destruction, violence. Hate. Pure hate and a desire to destroy all. Even me.
Then I looked at my mother, my sister, my aunt, his daughter. Her eyes were pleading for a respite for this torture. They pleaded for me, her nephew, her brother, her son, to do something, anything, to save her.
I glanced back at my father while holding my mother's gaze. Then, I spoke for the second time.
"Faster."
My father stopped. He tilted his head to the side, curious. My mother's eyes widened in shock as my beak twisted into a grimace.
"Go. Faster."
My father did as I asked, and my mother wept all the harder.
When he finished, he took me aside. Father and son, together. "Do you know who I am?" he asked me.
"No," I replied, "I've just come into this world and… I don't know what it is, but I know you are my father." I paused, and both heads turned to him. "What does that make me?"
My father pondered for a while, then smiled. "My prince," he said, "my prince of scarlet rape. Melalo."
"Melalo." I tasted my name with all four mouths, and all four smiled. "Melalo."
I kneeled before my king. "How may I serve you?"
