//------------------------------// // breach the surface // Story: Fallout is Magic: Discordant Harmonia // by Ruddy Quill //------------------------------// You’re floating. Everything around you is warm. Like you’re held in a giant’s embrace, you drift through the emptiness with nary a thought in the world. You don’t know where you nor do you care. All that matters is this feeling of unimaginable comfort that you never want to end. ****... Something itches the very tip of your nose. You try to scratch it but find you don’t have the energy to move your arms. Everything is just so snug and toasty. You just want to keep lazing about. Your brain is made of cotton, your flesh made of jello, your spirit of fluff and sugar and heat. -ke up… Again, that itch. That phantom sensation that just won’t go away. It spreads up your nose and down your face, down your chest, your limbs, your torso, to the end of your fingers and toes. Like a full-body pins and needles, something tempts and taunts and teases you to arousal. ****, wa… Your eyes twitch. Go away, mysterious voice. Five more minutes. You don’t want to go to school/work/something-something yet. You snuggle further into the gooey warmth of your surroundings, pulling yourself tighter and tighter until you’re nothing more than a ball floating in fluffy nothingness. ****! Jeeze is it persistent. Why can’t it leave you alone? Something cold and moist alights on your skin, a stark contrast to the heat soaking into your core. You shudder, and that movement seems to impel it. Like ivy strangling a great oak, it digs into your flesh, piercing through your veins and nerves and digging cruelly into your heart. ****! Wake up! You can’t breathe. Suddenly reality hits you all at once as harshly as slamming into a brick wall. Water fills your throat and tries to enter your lungs, air bubbles escaping your mouth. Instinctively you flail your arms trying to find purchase on something, anything, but only the slight resistance of liquid pushes back. Your eyes snap open, only to find yourself deep underwater. For a moment, you can’t tell which way is down or up, but a weak and hazy light grabs your attention and you immediately start to make your way towards it. It’s slow going, your clothes weighing you down and your shoes making it difficult to kick and propel yourself. Your lungs burn with the need for oxygen, and your mind races at the premonition, the fear, that you won’t make it to the surface in time. For what seems like an eternity you kick and paddle, getting close and closer to the light before, finally, you breach the surface of the water. Taking deep, greedy gulps of breath, you lean back to try and float and give your body the chance to relax. Your muscles ache with the cost of exertion and your lungs feel like you lit them on fire. You cough, some water that you swallowed burbling out of your mouth. Taking a look around, you don’t recognize your surroundings at all. You appear to be in some kind of underground lake or aquifer. Far above you the domed curvature of the cave glistens with some sort of strange luminescence. It’s clearly natural; some sort of bioluminescent plant? Whatever it is, you’re glad that it was bright enough for you to see it and that it led you to fresh air rather than deeper into the lake. Your nose tingles as you sniff. Okay, so maybe not that fresh. There’s the slightly musty scent of stale air, mixed with the clear, sharp bite of cold water, the sickly sweet allure of rotting plants, and an almost coppery twang of… You’re not quite sure. Burned metal? Never mind, you don’t have time to discern what that smell is. First thing first is to get to dry land. Luckily, you quickly find a small beach within paddling distance and shakily drag yourself ashore. The dark, almost navy-blue sand shifts and distorts around you as you flop face-first onto it, feeling immeasurably soft and not-at-all grainy. Weird. You just lie there for a while, trying to take some measure of what’s happened. You woke up and were in the middle of a drowning. Not a bad start. Well, okay, it’s a terrible start but at least you have something to work off of. Time to start a mental tally. Where were you before you ended up… wherever this is? For some strange, swiftly appalling reason you draw nothing but a blank. O-okay, no need to worry, so you can’t remember where you were beforehand. Probably just an unintentional side-effect of almost dying is all. Let’s just start with something simpler and build up from there. Your name is ****. You are **** years old. You were born in **** before you **** **** **** ****… With a dull sense of surprise, you find yourself beginning to tremble and hyperventilate. Alright, so you may be in a little more trouble than waking up at the bottom of a lake. Just calm down. Once again, maybe just mild brain damage from lack of oxygen to the old noggin. It’s nothing too much to worry about, right? …AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH- Okay, you’re good. Sure, you probably didn’t have to slug yourself in the face, but your high-pitched wails of terror were getting on your nerves, and you did not need to make yourself even more anxious, not even you! Crawling to your hands and knees, you turn around to the lake. Maybe splashing some water on your face would help. Granted, you were already quite soggy and water-logged, with rivulets still running down off of you but… Why are you green? And not green around the gills but literally a uniform green all across your skin as if you had one of those strange skin diseases like the Smurf-tastic methemoglobinemia. It really matches the emerald glint of your eyes. Also you’re bald. Like shiny chrome dome bald. You extend your hand, actually looking at it for the first time. Even with the low light from the glowing plants, your eyesight is clearly good enough to make out the skin and rippling flesh underneath. It’s green from tip to end and strangely smooth and without hair. You check your other hand and arm, finding them to be the same as their counterparts. You think now is a good time to start screaming again. After several more minutes of therapeutic living night terror thrashing, you finally manage to gather enough sense to clamber to your feet. So! You have no idea where you, no idea about who or what you are, and you look like you took a dunk in a vat of industrial chemicals laced with leprechauns. Altogether, today is starting to look really sucky! …no, no, you have to keep it together. You can continue your mental breakdown at this undecipherable turn of events later. First things first, you have to find your out of this cave, find some people, find some doctors (all the doctors), and then you can worry about your most likely kidnapping and dumping of your body later. You stagger forward. Hopefully there’s a way out of this cave. The shore seems to be heading up at an incline, and you can make out a wall a good few dozen meters away, so maybe there’s a path or something? You continue for a bit, the only sounds accompanying you the intermittent drip of water droplets falling from the cave’s roof and the squelching of your shoes. Urgh, it’s going to take forever for the things to dry out, and you can only shudder at the notion of the potential shrinkage! Giving the wet articles a dirty look, you catch the possible tripwire in front before it catches you. Burrowing in and out of the rocky floor is a black twisted vine the thickness of several fingers with thorns the size of your palm. Skimming up and down, it creates loops the perfect size and height for your feet to slip into. You crouch down to give it a better look. You’re amazed you even noticed it in the first place. The plant seems to meld in perfectly with the almost obsidian appearance of the cave. Guess your vision is better than average. Good thing, too; the thorns don’t look sharp enough to cut you, but after everything that’s happened already, you don’t want to add falling flat on your face to the list of dreary woes. Still, this doesn’t look like any vine or ivy you’ve ever seen before. At least, you think so. Amnesia or not, you still appear to have a general grasp on basic biology, and this thing doesn’t seem like it would be in your general encyclopedia. Against your better judgment (which is ordering you keep moving, you slackjawed nitwit), you poke at the vine and are immediately punished for your actions. The vine twitches and shivers at your intrusion. To your ever-growing horror, it moves, burying deeper and deeper into the ground before a rumbling behind you grabs your attention. You turn around and try not to void your bowels. A vine longer than you’re tall and as thick as your waist curves into the air, twining ever higher and higher before it dips down, the very end pointed in your direction. It shakes, and a sound like a wailing banshee emerges from its trembling thorns. Now would best be spent running – quickly. You barely manage to dash away when the demon plant shoots towards you. Somehow, it misses you by the barest of margins and pierces the ground with all the difficulty of a heated knife through butter. Yes, running and screaming sounds great. So that is exactly what you do. You tear out of dodge like a dead-beat dad trying to avoid child support. The next few seconds (or minutes, you’re too scared to tell) are a bit of blur – just a lot of pants, screams, screeches, and sounds of general mayhem and destruction. What you do know is that are clearly out of shape because your lungs feel like they’re about to implode and your muscles haven’t stopped aching the entire time. Also, you may need some new pants. They’re, uh, worse the wear for now. At the very least you’re somewhat nimble and quick on your feet and your eye-sight is clearly above the norm, because it’s not long before you find a small crack in the wall only ten meters ahead of you. It’s filled with that same glowing moss, like a beacon showing you the way out, and leads into a narrow tunnel that goes anywhere but here. You grab at the opportunity with both hands. Scrambling forward, you literally dive into the crevice. Somehow, somehow, the vine just barely avoids snagging your bottom half. And for some reason, as you cower like a little baby-man, it doesn’t appear to be able to cross the threshold and continue chasing you. You aren’t about to question your good fortune and quickly shuffle down the tunnel, the moss smearing across your clothes. It takes a good several minutes before you’re convinced the killer vine isn’t hunting you anymore and your breathing finally slows down to a more normal and healthier rate. Okay, so add on botanical freaks-of-nature to the ever growing list, why not? You… you just want to go home, damn it. Wherever that might be. Not… not wherever this place is. You hold back a shuddering breath and square your shoulders. No, now is not the time for crying. Now is the time for action. Now is the time to find out more about wherever the heck you are, formulate a plan to get out of wherever you are, and figure your way out from there. You can blubber all you want later. With some cookies... and your binky (if you have one). Emboldened by the vestiges of a plan you scrabbled together, you firm up your jaw and continue to squeak down the narrow passageway. It isn’t long before you pop out into what appears to be a narrow spiraling staircase. Crafted crudely from stone and covered in moss and mushrooms, it doesn’t look like anyone has travelled it in years but it still fills you with hope and confidence. Someone has been here before, which means there’s a good chance to find your way to civilization through whatever may have been left behind. Well, onwards and upwards as it were. You follow the staircase for what feels a little less than an hour (how far underground are you) before you come to a sturdy door made of wood and cast with iron bands and rivets. Despite the rest of the hallway caked in dust and left in disrepair, the door seems to have been left in good states. The only hint that lends to its true age is that where they might have been a handle, instead there’s only a small pitted hole, bordered by rust and rot. Frowning, you place your shoulder on the door and push. It groans and gives the tiniest bit before shoving back into position. Your frown deepens. A little more force may be necessary. You back up several paces before settling into a linebacker posture. You snort and then rush forward, putting all your strength in this one tackle. With the snap of shrieking metal and thumping wood, both you and door slam into the next room. Surprised that it gave way so readily, you aren’t able to stop yourself and land right on top of the battered portal after tripping over its bottom edge. You, uh, didn’t expect it to be that easy. You may be a lot stronger than your first thought. With a wince, you rub at the shoulder that made contact with the door. But owww… You are so going to get a bruise out of that. Okay, so fairly strong but your stamina and pain tolerance is trash. Good to know…? Your mind is swiftly taken off the pain as the rest of the room comes into view. Another chamber, much smaller than the one with the underground lake. There are small pools of water scattered throughout, but none so deep that it would soak you higher than your knee. Also placed haphazardly are stalagmites that looked to be sliced off neatly near the bases, single flowers that look like a mix between tulips and roses on top of most of them. Crystals as big as you are embedded in the walls and ceilings, large amethysts that look to be expertly cut even as they protrude from the rockface. But it isn’t any of these admitted oddities that truly capture your sight, no. It’s the masterpiece that stands tall on a raised island in the middle of it all. A tree made entirely of blue and white crystal, its infinite fractal patterns splitting again and again and again as it billows out like some organic snowflake. Its appearance a hybrid between a weeping willow and oak, its strong branches and hanging tendrils combine into something otherworldly and ethereal. Just looking at it makes your heart calm and mind clear out. It’s beautiful, it’s breathtaking… Which makes the vines, those same vines that nearly killed you back at the lake, even uglier as they try to squeeze the lifeforce from it. They wrap around the crystal tree, finding a way into every nook, ever cranny, every twist and turn and dip and dodge they can find. They pulse with an energy that’s just as unworldly at the tree but something that’s… darker, less tame, more than willing to lash out. Before you even realize it you’re already at the conglomeration of life and unlife, hand reaching out. You almost didn’t notice it before but it seems like the tree is giving just as much as the vines are. The reason the vines seem like they’re almost buried in the tree is because they are. What you could only just make out like a mirage is much clearer now up close. The crystal making up the tree’s… bark(?) is actually growing over the vines like a normal tree would for a strip of metal hacked into it, like it’s trying to consume that which threatens it. For a moment, you’re almost taken aback as a feeling of… being overwhelms you, compelling you to touch the crystal. Your hands reaches out further, fingertips almost brushing upon the flawless surface of- “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” The smell of fudge and cotton candy. The gale of summertime laughter. The bite of winter on your nose. The taste of ozone and ash. “No telling what’ll happen touching such a pure concentration of chaos and harmony mixed together.” You spin around. There is nothing there. Heart thumping in your chest, you feel something slither around you and a claw trail its way up your cheek. “Over here, cutie.” You release a manly shout of rage and spin around, tripping over your own feet and falling onto your butt. Whatever it is that was on you quickly leaves it perch and glides into your field of vision. It's just as ridiculous and/or disturbing as everything else that's been shoved in your face since you woke up. In front of you stands/hovers/twists a conglomeration of piecemeal animal parts. A eagle's claw, a goat's hoof, a bear paw, the wing of a bat and eagle; each one totally out of place to each other and yet seamlessly melded. The body structure is vaguely similar to the eastern dragons of yore, a long serpentine torso with slightly stubby limbs in proportion. The... creature stays close and nearly parallel to the ground, yet somehow its front half is floating a good several inches of it, its front limbs making no effort to keep connected. Its equine muzzle is shorter than the average horse's, more streamlined like a lizard but there are enough definite soft curves to its face that you can't help but see it as feminine. Two mismatched horns poke out from its short, messy hair, a deliberate difference to its mane's almost pastel collection of early morning, rainbowish colors. There are even random sparkles that look like stars sewn throughout its mane as well as the fluffy tuft at the end of its tail. Okay, yeah, this thing is definitely female. Nothing could look this girly unintentionally. Or it could just be extremely poisonous and the colors are a warning to dumb-dumbs that come across it. ...please be the former. The most worrisome matter is its (her?) eyes. A sickening yet alluring combination of bright yellow and dark red, they glint with obvious intelligence, almost as if laughing at some personal joke. Possibly at your expense. Is this the owner of the voice? You were too shocked to really listen at first, but you think it may have been a female talking to you. The chimera examines you, eyes searching for something. Apparently they find what they seek, because the chimera's mouth curls up, single snaggletooth perking up. Swallowing back the lump in your front, you open your mouth and... "Oh, good, you’ve finally woken up!" That is clearly a girl's voice, and the most excitable, energy-filled, and bubbly one you've ever heard (you think). She grins at your gobsmacked expression. "I was wondering when you would. Allow me to introduce myself. The name’s Eris, goddess of chaos and harmony! How you do?" ...all right, let's see. You woke up at the bottom of a lake with no memory, were accosted by vines that had clearly watched too many adult cartoons, came across a sight that spit in the face of biology as you know it, and now... now, you're talking to a very girly, very peppy chimera that just introduced herself as a goddess. Clearly, this is only going to get worse and/or stupider. So... what do you do?