Beta services by kzal, who has done a fantastic job of helping me.
This was written 9 months before a hiatus that saw me enter a strange period of depression of which I'm still... existing. After 6 months of attempted self-medication with cannabis and other drugs, publishing this (admittedly unfinished story) is... I guess... my way of forcing myself to reach a stable of place. Of saying 'hey! You need- you need to finish this... because it's up here. And you have to'. I'm rambling a bit, I suppose. I need to get out. I can't stay here. I feel so so stupid. Always stupid. Always stupid and pathetic. I want to go away and I don't want to wake up. But that's a stupid idea. So fucking stupid. Listen to me; aren't I pathetic? My father called me a vampire, always sucking his blood. My mum hightailed a long time ago. I can't do anything right, right? If I can't do anything then why does god make it so that I have to wake up everyday?
Chapter I
He was overseeing the revival of the Quarry Wastes when three goblins bounded up to him.
"Kingy! Kingy! We's found somethin'! Founds an Egg!"
And found an Egg they did. It was humongous, rivalling the size of a carriage and smooth, ovoid with a pristine, enamelled texture. It hummed with a static field as dust and dirt cascaded off it the second the cranes tugged it free from the rock. He stroked its surface with a gloved hand and felt the iciness radiate from the artefact even before his fingers could make contact. It was absorbing heat from its surroundings, he thought. But for what?
He pressed his lips together. "Take it to my lab."
They settled the Egg on a magnetic platform. It took a large truck and five of his personnel to transport the thing, and even then it took several days just to plan and navigate its ease through the entrance of his laboratory. Walls had to be cut, arches resized and panels shifted away. At the end, he watched seven robotic helpers wheel the curious object in and mechanically nudge it gently onto his measuring platform.
He circled it as his AI, Hoggle, read to him the reports and pre-analysis examination taken on-site. He paused at the wattage intake one of the presiding engineers had measured, and listened to speculations on the possible endothermic reactions occurring within its shell, as well as the radioactive count rate taken with a Geiger. Something very important was in it, the report concluded. Something the humans put a lot of effort into preserving.
"Or even keeping alive," Hoggle's cold voice resonated within the hangar-sized space. His head snapped to that and his eyes narrowed.
"Run an MRI and the usual. Do not open it without my clear say so," he said sternly, eying the faint indentations imprinted into the surface. He ran his gloved fingers over the cold exterior again and paused. Something lingered against his fingertips, something that curled and fluttered fragilely; like a feeble butterfly, reacting to his magic. He did not know why, but unbidden, he stroked the surface as if to comfort the thing inside it, before snatching his hand away in surprise and turning away abruptly.
"How long will it take?"
"Three weeks for a full analysis on its structure, Your Majesty. Will this be one of your projects, Sire?"
He knew what Hoggle referred to. He recalled another one of his projects, an intricate Labyrinth simulator he had worked on ever since he was a little boy, and his kin existed beneath the boundaries of the Earth's surface where the humans milled about. It was his magnum opus, stories he authored into walls and winding pathways. He had a feeling about this one, and he needed something to take his mind off the Revival efforts.
"Call it 'Egg', Hoggle." He announced resolutely. "And yes. Please notify me as soon as you're finished."
"Very well, Your Majesty."
They called him 'The Goblin King', but before the nuclear fallout he was simply called Jareth. In the age of mankind, the humans had fantasised them into medieval poetry and romantic water-colour; but the centuries of existence before humans began mashing branches together for fire meant that their civilisation was far more advanced than theirs.
They had originated as a subterranean people, and their appearances initially reflected as such. Unlike humans however, who sought to splay their reach into the stars, Fae ambition brought them through the dimensional layer. Where man worked to colonise Mars, Fae studied the expansion of inter-dimensional pockets and spatial manipulation. They were spread out now, far into another world— but Earth would always be their home.
Then war came: Mutually Assured Destruction, or M.A.D and that was assuredly what came of it. India and Pakistan came to blows, when always it had be assumed that the first to pull the trigger would be Russia, or North Korea. Allies and checkers blurred the difference through five years, and then the sickness pervaded. And nobody won.
"Do you think there are weapons inside it?" Korvia inquired one evening, wine glass between lithe fingers. Her mouth was red and welcoming, and the Goblin King had spent the period of the ball watching the lines of her lips.
"Perhaps," the Goblin King laughed. "Is that what everybody has been discussing? My recent acquisition?"
"It could be medicine they hoarded during the war, Jareth. Or why amour it so indomitably?" Duke Morqueny chose this moment to intrude, much to the Goblin King's annoyance. "Whatever it is, I'm sure it will be curious."
"Or it could be nothing." Korvia's eyes sparkled impishly. She had seen the King's eyes glide over her, and witnessed the ire of the interrupted the moment Morqueny came over. She touched his arm soothingly and led him away. "But come, let us talk of more immediate things."
Later that night, Hoggle's cold voice issued tinnily from the speakers. "Sire, there's something that requires your attention." He rubbed his eyes and got up slowly from his bed, careful not to awaken his bedmate.
"What is it?" He asked, voice husky from sleep. His bedmate shifted, red hair splayed across the sheets, and he immediately repaired to the balcony on muted footsteps.
"Sire?"
"Speak."
"There's been an issue with imaging the complete interior of the Egg, Your Majesty. We cannot compile a satisfactory scan. The exterior material is too dense and we risk interrupting the operations ongoing within the Egg." He blinked, now fully awake. "Operations?"
"Yes, Sire. Would you like to see the unfinished report?"
He looked cautiously behind his back at the figure still asleep on his bed. "Show it to me in text form," he ordered, and a holographic image promptly sprang up in front of him. Jareth's eyes scanned the words and took in the graphs before swearing softly.
"Sire?"
"I'm going to my lab," he announced, thoughts and biochemistry swirling in his brain. In his head he recalled an old human body-weight to energy intake chart, and ancient statistics he flipped through while at the now preserved human Smithsonian Museum. If his calculations were correct…
He padded into the area, still nude and long used to the iciness reverberating up into his feet from the linoleum floor. Accordingly, the lights and machinery flickered on the minute he stepped in. Immediately, he went over to the Egg.
"Sire?"
"Quiet," he ordered. The Goblin King placed a naked hand on the exterior. Immediately, he felt that swirl of energy, a faint pulse of life trickling out and caressing his palm with shy inquisitiveness. It fluttered before shying away, peeking out from a metaphorical barrier. Pulling his hand away and sitting down, stunned, he ordered Hoggle to pull up the half-finished scans.
He sucked in a deep breath and traced the monochrome outline of the blurred figure on the hologram. His suspicions were correct. "It's a human, Hoggle," he said breathlessly in awe. "A child. Female, I think." His mind whirled back to the charts and words of earlier. "And the human is still alive," he breathed in shock.
A human, still alive. Right here, breathing in his lab. His hands shook with wonder, at the possibilities and the experiments he could run; the amount of research he could gather just from this. Unconsciously, he placed his palm on the Egg.
The life force within blinked and touched it timidly, enquiringly.
He yanked his hand back as if he had touched hot coals. Pressing his hand against his chest, he breathed heavily for a moment. The energy within was clearly feminine, an iridescent green in color, and young— perhaps ten.
He extricated his palm and studied it for a moment in dazed silence.
A human child.