The Creature Chronicles I

"Of Fins and Misfortune"

By: Princess Sassafras

Notes: This is pure fantasy! A magic potion and even more magical results. Quatre-centric, with Duo and Wufei as bystanders. Be surprised!

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The blue vial lay conspicuously by a pot, in which a small flowering cactus plant was blooming. The hot white light from the window cut a prism through it and made it sparkle like some rare gem. The cork was topped with a sterling fish's fin.

"It is especially potent to the Deep drinker," said the dark, squat saleslady from whom he had purchased it. Well…not purchased, really, she had given it to him for free.

"What do you mean by 'deep drinker?'" Quatre inquired, feeling the vial bite his fingers like ice. It was unnaturally cold to have been stored in a tent in desert clime.

"I mean, my darling," the woman ran one long white finger across his cheek, "that those whose spirits are deeper than most may find that this…" she tapped the vial in his hand, "works especially well."

"Well," he said tentatively, "I hope that you do not think I am rude, but I do not believe in such things. And I do not take gifts from strangers." He tried to thrust it back into her hand, only to have her step nimbly backward, evading him.

"Well, I am strange," said the woman with a definite note of pride and a swelling of her large bosom, "but as for such things, my dear, they are as real as you want them to be. And you may do with it as you will."

She smiled and kissed her fingertips and placed them on his brow, ignoring his outstretched hands and the vial, and then fluttered back behind the many scarves hanging from the top of the tent. He could hear her rummaging once more among her cluttered crates of oddities.

There it was, now, glinting in the sun. To take it with me…

He was leaving with Duo on a ship in two hours. They were bound for the Blue Islands, from which Wufei had signaled to them four days ago. There was said to be storage of Gundanium Alloy on the northwest side of the island, buried deep within the sand. Sensors could detect it, but they had not yet unearthed it at over two hundred feet down. They needed it for battle reconstruction of the Gundams, and for spare parts.

It would take them two days and two nights to reach the islands by boat. Gundams travel wasn't an option, or someone might figure out what they were up to.

Quatre finished packing his things quietly, with the forefront of his mind on his task, but his subconscious never straying from thoughts of the blue vial.

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Night on the boat made him ill. It bucked and spurred and he had already vomited up his scallops. Quatre loved the sea. Perhaps it was his overexcitement that was making him so queasy, the ever present question in the back of his mind: what was he to do with it? A large part of him couldn't keep from wanting it, and that was what frightened him.

Nothing will happen! It is a fun faerie tale, nothing more! I'll drink it by the railing, and laugh when nothing happens. Unless it makes me sicker…but I can't get much sicker than this…

The cold spray hit him as he crossed the deck to the weather-peeled white rail. He clenched the metal in his hands, and breathing the clean cold air he felt a bit better. He took the blue vial from his chest pocket. It was dark and bitingly cold against his palm. He twisted the silver fish fin and popped the cork, and leaned over it to sniff the contents of the vial. It smelled like the sea, only stronger: very salty and with a hint of something distinctly fishy. He was unsure of his choice now. But if it tasted ugly, he could always just spit it out. He decided.

He threw the liquid down his throat all at once. It burned immediately, like hot sulfur. He futilely tried to spit the remainder out, but it gelled to his throat and would not come up. He tried to make a sound, but his throat was closing, tighter and tighter as if… He wanted to cry out, but when he couldn't he began stumbling towards Duo's end of the cabin on deck. He was still clutching his hot throat when he felt a searing pain on either side of his neck, just below his ears. He pulled his hands away and saw blood. Oh god…

His legs no longer worked properly; they felt wobbly as if they had no bones, but thick like tire rubber. He collapsed onto the dark planks, trying to draw a single breath. His neck pained him even more than his legs, but not nearly as much as his lungs. The overwhelming need to breathe cut through him like a knife. He saw tiny flecks of light like starts crowd his vision. He felt weak. He tried to raise himself up to his knees…only to discover that he had none. He stared in silent alarm at what were once his legs, then higher…he had no crotch.

From navel to toe he was glistening slime in the crude shape of a fin. It looked as though he had just flopped out of the primordial ooze. He reached down to touch this new alien part of his body, then stared in shock at his arm. His skin was tinted blue, as if from frostbite. But he didn't feel chill anymore, he felt like he was on fire. It was because he couldn't breath, right? Didn't have any air, right?

Every so often the sea spray would hit the back of his aching neck, and he would feel momentary relief. Oh, no, it's the sea…!

He turned to look at it, and suddenly it seemed to him a vast oasis. He craved it with an unchaste longing, one that felt only natural. It offered him the only comfort there was.

He propelled himself toward the edge of the ship by his arms, and slid himself beneath the lowest railing and into the blissful brine. It slid up and over his body like a cool sheet over fevered skin. He took a gasp, and found that he could breathe. At least…oxygen was getting to his lungs somehow. He felt a tickling sensation much like peeling off dead skin from healing sunburn. He looked down and saw the slimy encasement rolling off his fin, much like a discarded snake's skin, and drifting slowly towards the black bottom like a pale ghost.

He flicked his tail. He sailed fifteen feet in mere seconds before coming to a halt. He gave his new tool a more powerful wave, and flew twice as far and twice as fast. He passed several strange fish, but did not care. His heart was beating madly as he flew just beneath the tossing waves, the ship far above and behind him. His tail was a powerhouse of motion and jetted him in whichever direction he pleased, his pale arms streamlining to his torso. He stopped, not even breathless, to examine himself just beneath the surface and in the pure moonlight. There were tiny webbed increments between each set of blue-tinted fingers. His arms and his chest—his entire upper half—were devoid of hair. His tail was the most stunning aquamarine, with glistening angelfish fins that tapered into long curved tips.

He laughed at his own beauty, and swam far for hours, peering every once and a while at the night-sea creatures through his blue haze of pleasure.

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Dawn came, and stretched around the island like warm arms. The tide rolled in and out.

The ship had docked with no sign of Quatre Winner, though Duo and Wufei searched frantically from deck to deck. While they were exploring the water line, they spotted a pale form being bolstered up against the shore by the pressing tide. They began to run.

It was Quatre, naked and pale, curled among some rock and weed. They turned him over and listened for a heart beat. When they found one, they frantically began to administer CPR. Quatre choked up no water, only moaned occasionally, and tossed his fair head from side to side. He had the smallest of smiles on his white lips.

"Quatre! Quatre, man, answer me!" Duo's warm voice, concerned.

He awoke later, wrapped in towels and leaning against the base of a tree, and Duo and Wufei were beside him. The ship's medic and a few members of the crew stood several paces back, looking on anxiously. Duo had Quatre's face in his hands, and Quatre was surprised at how much he had missed warm human touch.

"…Duo?" The sun was too bright, and it hurt to see.

"Oh, God…oh, God Quatre, we thought…"

"We thought you were dead." It was Wufei's cool voice. "We thought you had been thrown into the sea."

I didn't get thrown…

Duo's voice again, and his hands on Quatre's shoulders. "I heard a noise up top in the early morning while it was still dark. I climbed out to look, and saw your shoes lying on deck. I looked over the railing, but…God, you weren't there! I thought you were gone!"

"No," said Quatre, squinting up at their faces in the light. "No, I wasn't dead. But I think I might have been dreaming."

No one knew what to say to this, so they wrapped him up and helped him back aboard the ship, and he sailed back across the sea to his home to rest. They sent him periodic word of the operation. It went smoothly, and he was glad to hear of it.

He spent the next few weeks in a dreamlike state, sleeping during the daytime, and taking very long showers at night.

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