Chapter 4
What becomes of a broken spirit? Tossed aside by fellow souls, thrown away into the sea of last resorts, saved by destiny only to find itself flowing through the river of uncertainty. Will it harbor resentment or float along in acceptance? At what point should it kick and turn? Determine its will. Find a path and run with it.
So, I run. Along the river bank, I go. All packed up, rested, and restored. Not quite sure where I am going, but going forward in a direction away from known dangers. That sarlacc was terrifying, but I do not have to face it anymore. It is far behind me, now. Though there may be more on this planet, I know what one may look like: a reddish, yellow ground and a tubular opening. Sure, it could be hidden, but even if it surprises me, I could surely find a way out. I escaped it once, I could escape again if need be. I should be careful to avoid any narrow enclosing. Keep one way forward and one way out, at least, at all times. These are my thoughts as I sprint on the sand of the river's shore. The terrain is unchanging, but the jungle wall is getting closer now. I better slow. Proceed with caution from here – my mind coaches me.
As the inlet ends its course, it is swallowed by jungle. Its fifteen meter width narrows to one meter, trickling at the roots of the trees. It does not disrupt the jungle growth, but it does seem to flow on into it, less than a foot deep. Curious, I stoop and walk closely toward it. You can hear a hollow echo of water flowing on farther than you can see. As I squat lower and lean forward stooping over this stream, a frog from behind skips past me and hops into the jungle without hesitation. Startled, I stand back up and quickly look behind me. "What," where did that come from? Before a second thought tries to answer, I find myself jumping into the ankle deep water, darting after it. The frog has a long a body, with clearly discernable shoulders, abdomen, and hind legs. Bluish-grey, uniformly colored, but shimmering a reflection where sunlight hit it. Down in this water and under these vines and trees, no light gets in and it is hard to see. But moving fast forward, hunched and stooping low, brushing hanging branches out of the way with my arms outreached ahead of me, I soon see the frog hopping along again. It is not going terribly fast, but it does not stop or slow. I can keep up with it speed, no problem, but any hesitation on my part or obstacle could make me lose track of it. The creek is still shallow and thin, and the area around is packed with brush snagging on the loose fabric of my shirt. Mud starts to cover my boots. Water splashes onto my socks and ankles. You would get wrapped in tree vines if you stand up all the way, or hit your head on a branch. I still see it hopping.
Where did it go? Oh, the water is getting deeper. It is jumping in and out of sight, disappearing for a second as it dives blow, then emerging effortlessly as it jumps forward. Yea, this creek is getting deeper. I wonder if the frog will slow. Now, it starts swimming. As I feel the water level rising above my knees, I figure to swim like the frog. I try to jump and dive in, but am stuck at the feet. Lunging forward, muscles in my leg pull and squeeze, but to no avail. I do not budge. Before a brief panic sets in, I check on the frog. It is still going, kicking its arms and legs rapidly but not swimming very fast. At its pace, considering how much space is visible ahead, I should be able to keep it in view for about a minute or two. My feet will not come out of this mud. My arms pull up on my thighs, but I still do not come unstuck. An impulse flashes to shoot the frog with my blaster, but that is just fear and frustration kicking in. I will not blast out at anything like that again. This mud has got a hold of me. My feet will not slip out of it. My legs will not rise. I sigh and lurch forward.
A deep breath of surrender relaxes me. My feet sink about an inch down. It is not the way I would like to go, but it is movement. Granted, what do I know about this jungle's marsh land? I have heard about not fighting against Tatooinian quicksand, so maybe this is the way to go. Just relax.
Shuffling forward, I sink lower and lower. The mud is just above my ankles and the water is rising past my knees. I am not sinking any deeper into the mud, but rather deeper into the water. The mud drags me with it as it slopes down lower into a mysterious murky depth. I keep sliding my feet forward. The frog is getting farther, but it is still swimming in view, its tiny, muscular legs kicking rapidly. "Where are we going?" I beg, desperately. Looking around, I see some looping vines hung above me, but they are out of reach. I am now waist deep and the blaster and vibroblade float alongside me. The water still rises; or, I still sink. The mud drags me deeper and deeper. The water level rises ever higher. Up to my chest now. My arms raise overhead as my chest twists and heaves, wading forward. Almost up to my neck, the water gets colder. Am I going under? I wonder. I look down to check and my nose nearly gets wet. Facing back up to look forward, I no longer see that frog I have been chasing. I cannot tell what is in front of me, but it is impossibly black. A dark mass. As the water touches my neck, I gasp and gulp in air for a deep breath. My chin dips into it. As I reach up again, my face gets briefly submerged and my breathe bubbles out underwater. Swelling my chest lifts my head up just enough to take one last deep breathe. My arms fall and my head is fully under. All I feel is cold water and the tight grip of mud at my ankles. What a mess. I have tried all day to get into this jungle, through rock and monster. It is no wonder that, once inside, the journey gets harder.
I trudge through the mud, which feels like it is getting looser around my feet. However, the water is getting warmer and thicker. An odd sensation, feeling as though I am floating in heavy space, only an exaggerated motion of walking propels me forward.
I am about half out of breathe and I cannot feel anything above or under. Eyes are shut. Open them? No, that will be bad. I am not going to die, I think to myself just before a rush of fear shudders every sense. Sensing no end to this morass, slogging imperceptibly forward, hysterical panic causes my chest to convulse as my lungs tighten and mind asphyxiates. In a moment of thoughtlessness while still trudging forward, my foot kicks a wall. The bump awakens me. Reaching up out above the water, my hand feels the lip of a rounded ledge, rocky and coarse to grip. I pull myself up with both hands and emerge, gasping for breath. Lifting up past the chest, I get to my knees, on all fours, dripping wet. Desperation leaves me. I crawl forward, clamoring and panting. The ground below is hard and covered with a thin layer of dirt. Turning around and falling back to sit down, I see that above the water was a thick tangled mound of earthen jungle. I sigh in relief that I have once again escaped seemingly near death. There is really now way out of this mess. I pull muddy weeds off my boots and body. This time, I do not even feel the trauma set in. I twist back around and lift myself up with both hands planted into the ground and stumble forward. Fully upright now, I take another deep breathe. Slightly leaning back, I can see all around. A half ruined dome encircles above. Behind me, its light grey stone walls bear effortlessly against the high earthen mound. Ahead, an archway stands. Are these the forewarned forlorn ruins?
Out through this dome, a clear trodden path winds through an open field, still dark and shaded completely by the vast and high jungle canopy. The air is warm and damp. I feel more relaxed. The space is quite open, but there are no more ruins. Randomly dispersed are flowers and plants. Oh, what is this? A five leafed flower of white petals shaded pink, and freckled with red dots, as wide as a dewback, with a green stem as tall as a human. The fact that it is not obviously poisonous or carnivorous relaxes me. After another harrowing experience, a moment of peace is suspiciously comforting. What is next? I do not see any traps around here, nor sense an immediate danger. Where is that frog? He almost got me killed, yet he feels like a friend.