Disclaimer: I don't own TMNT, so you can't sue me. I'm just borrowing them
for a bit. But all the original creations are mine, so if you want to use
them, please just ask. Thank you.
Chapter 8: Looking back
I had only one plan in mind when I returned to my quarters. First, find the strongest painkiller that I could in the stash that I kept handy and get rid of my headache. Second, take a long soak in one of the hot springs littered around Furlough. Last, go to bed and sleep for the rest of the day. Preferably all in that order.
Well, at least that's the way that I would have liked it to go. The farthest I got was to my quarters, finding the painkiller, and thus getting rid of my headache. The brunt of it at least. The rest sort of just fell away somehow and I found myself sitting on my bunk trying to meditate instead.
As a child, there was nothing that I hated more than meditation. It was so boring to me then. All you could do was sit in one spot for hours on end and just think. Who would want to do that when there was so many other interesting things to be done? Like, playing hide and seek or pouncing on one of my brothers when they weren't looking. That was definitely more fun than just 'reflecting on the lessons of the day' as Splinter often said.
But that was what life was like. No matter how much I might have wanted it to be then, life couldn't be all fun and games. There were other things that had to be done, lessons to be learned and tasks to be mastered. Meditation just happened to be part of the package.
One thing that has changed is the frequency on which I do many of those old habits. Meditating used to be a daily event for me, usually happening in early evening or late afternoon just after training. Now though, it's become more of a monthly thing. I still meditate, but only when I feel it's absolutely necessary or I do it subconsciously when I'm upset about something.
Like now. Though not as bad as before, I'm still a bit tense from earlier and that's making it hard to concentrate. I keeping attempting to calm myself down and reach the point where I can reflect successively but it keeps slipping. Every time I come close to settling down the thought of what happened rises up in my mind and my aggravation just flares up again. Then I'm stuck back at square one again. And that's more or less how the last hour has been, with me attempting to meditate and continuously failing.
That's right. It's been more than an hour since the incident with Talceryn and I'm still trying to sort through it all. I still can't believe that he dared to come at me like that, telling me who I should be mated to and what I should do with my life. No one's told me how to live my life, ever. Even Splinter never tried that and he was my father and Master. He may have kept me line during my early years and set rules for me to follow, but he never tried to determine my every move. Master Splinter always understood that we were each individuals and that the time would one day come when we would have to make our own choices in life. So he gave his children guidelines to follow but no set path. That was up to us to decide.
Maybe in Rancor they came close to running my life but not in the sense I'm thinking of. With a place like that, they don't give you a choice in the matter. They just flat out tell you what to do and there's no argument about it. Go against what they say and you'll find yourself on the wrong end of a blaster.
No, what I mean is the personal freedom that we're all born with. The right to choose what we do with our lives and how we go about getting our goals done. It's something that most take for granted, including me, until someone violates that right and we retaliate. Which is what happened today.
Talceryn trespassed on my rights and I fought back. Maybe it wasn't the smartest thing to break his nose like I did, but I don't think I would go back on it if I could. From my first days in Dimension X, I had dealt with bullies like him in worse situations and sometimes the only thing that they understand is to smash something in their face.
Unbidden, memories of those early days started to rise to the surface when I lost concentration again. It made me shiver to have these things in mind and I tried to force them down again. I had too much on my mind and right now these old images weren't helping. But it did me little good. My memories, stubborn as the one who carried them, refused my attempts and continued to rise.
What I remember isn't pleasant and I hate it when they drift into conscious thought like this. Normally I keep these memories buried in some corner of my mind and let stand at that. Sometimes though, when my guard is down, they force their way out and I can't help but recall the disturbing images of those times and how I felt then.
The foremost among these images are always the darkness and chill of the world where I woke up just after being transported. It was a deadly world that I now know is called Krystalli and it is a place where there were more cutthroats and hoods than the whole of New York combined. But back then, I knew it only it as the beginning of a living nightmare that I still want out of.
It was a very confusing time for me then. I had no idea where I was or what was going on. Everything around me was strange. I was surrounded by people who hurt me and in a place where I soon found myself nearly starving on a daily basis.
I cried more in those first weeks than I ever had in my life. Cried for someone to wake me up from the impossible nightmare I was in. Cried for my father and brothers to be there to help me. Cried for everything that I had walked away from and instinctively knew that I would never see again. Cried for the loneliness I was now in to come to an end. Cried for a thousand other reasons that I don't even remember now or care to.
Crying was all I seemed to do then and back then, I didn't know any better about doing that. I was just too upset about losing my former life that I didn't understand that it was actually crying that was making my new life even worse than it had to be. The ones that I encountered in my early travels were not the friendliest of people and they were willing to take advantage of any weakness they found, especially if it meant something for them to gain. They saw my crying as such and thus felt that I was an easy mark. So more than once I found myself fending off someone who was either trying to steal what little that I carried or trying to get rid of what they saw as competition.
This happened on a daily basis and I soon found myself hiding away from everyone else in whatever corner I could find. I knew that it was beneath me, skulking in holes from the likes of those scoundrels. I had been raised to stand up for myself and not to let others bully me. But most here were bigger than me and often traveled in groups. I was alone and puny compared to them. In a fight, I might have been able to handle one at the time if I had to. But against a larger force like the ones I was often up against, I had no choice but to run and hide, whether I liked it or not.
After nearly three months of this continually happening, I finally came to a realization. All the crying in the world wasn't going to help me get home again or bring back the ones that I loved. If anything, it was only causing me more trouble than I needed. So, I made a decision that I've kept to this day.
I promised myself that I wasn't going to cry anymore, no matter what. I decided that it was time that I stopped being such a baby and grow up. If I wanted to survive, then I had to be tougher than I was acting and prove that I could handle anything that came my way.
So the next time that someone tried to steal from me, I was going to be ready. I would fight them if I had to and show them that regardless of size or number that I wouldn't back down from a threat. If only I had known that when the next theft did occur, that it would include none other than my newest 'student' and headache, Zenith.
That's right. I first met Zenith during another robbery attempt. He wasn't the thief in question of course, but he got caught up in the action of it all. I guess you could say that he was in the wrong place in the wrong time.
It all happened during my fourth month of living in Dimension X. By then, I had managed to find a way off Krystalli and was now on a world called Gidd. There were fewer problems than on Krystalli and so I didn't have to worry as much about being robbed. That didn't mean it was totally crime-free. There's no place like that except in a dream. Still, any change is better than nothing and I was willing to take any that I could find.
I had been sleeping in an abandoned storeroom that I had found earlier that week. It was small, only about the size of a large closet and half cluttered with old junk that I couldn't even begin to identify. But it was dry and no one else bothered with it but me. That meant that it was safe and so I felt that I could sleep there without having to worry about being bothered.
Boy was I wrong. About the fifth night I had spent in the storeroom, I had a visitor. I don't know who it was or what they were after exactly, but in the middle of the night, someone came while I slept.
They snuck in through a hole in the wall, the only possible entrance to the room that wasn't locked or blocked by debris. It was just big enough for me to fit through, which meant that unless someone ripped out the wall, they would have to be my size in order to follow.
That made me feel a bit safer in a way. I was small for my age and always had been. Though I had been growing in the last six months, I was still under five feet. Since most of those I had come across were usually twice my size and had to use brute force to get into enclosed areas, I wasn't really worried. Unless they were really bored, no one would waste their time trying to get to me in here.
Again, there was still so much that I had to learn. Like so many other things in life, size isn't always an issue. Doesn't matter if they're bigger than me or my size, a person can turn out to be major trouble if they can find just the right time to strike.
I found this out when I was grabbed in my sleep by just such a person. One hand clamped over my mouth and the other held my hands fast. Their owner then dragged me from the storeroom. It was a tight fit, as they had to first get themselves out and then pull me after them. I was struggling the entire time, which certainly didn't help my captor any. Somehow or another, they did manage the operation and I soon found myself out in the night air of Gidd.
Still holding me fast, a voice that could only be male hissed in my ear," Stop squirming, whelp. You're making this harder on yourself than it has to be, whelp. Just give me what I want and I'll promise it will only hurt a day or so after I leave."
I had no idea what he wanted or why, but I certainly knew that I wasn't going to give him anything. So I continued to struggle, increasing my efforts with every ounce of strength that I could muster. It wasn't an easy task though, since my attacker may have been my size but he was stronger and was refusing to budge.
Still, if there's one thing that I will admit about myself it's that I'm stubborn and once I set my mind to something I won't stop until I'm done. So while I was held, I squirmed and struggled intensely, silently praying that it would be enough. As a side effort, I kicked backward when I could, hoping to hit something.
One kick proved to be true. The claws on my feet, unsheathed and sharper than those on my hands, had managed to slice into the skin of attacker's leg. I don't know how deep they went, but it was enough.
I heard an instant yowl of surprise and pain from behind. The hand, which I could now see was a scaled gray-blue, loosened its grip and was lowered ever so slightly. This was all that I needed.
It wasn't much, but there was enough room for me to maneuver my mouth over a thumb. Biting down as hard as I could, I sank my teeth into it. Like any cat, my teeth are sharp and made for the art of biting and tearing. An act such as this one and for which I received immediate reward.
The grip that held me disappeared entirely and with it my own. My teeth, now filling my mouth with a foul taste of scale and blood, came loose as I was thrown aside by my former captor. I'm guessing that I flew a half a dozen feet or more, since I remember passing by the wall of my storeroom hideout. It's not for certain, but I know that I landed near there.
To be more precise, I landed on someone near there. Unnoticed by either myself or my attacker, someone else had been passing by while we fought. They may or may not have noticed us either, I don't know. I can only say that they were certainly surprised when I was dropped onto them. I know that I was.
We both landed in a heap, with me on top and the stranger on the bottom. I can't speak for the latter, but I know that the wind was definitely knocked out of me. For a few seconds, we just stayed there, trying to collect our wits.
Behind us, I could hear the unmistakable sound of metal being unsheathed. Instinctively, I knew that could only mean a blade, large or small, was about to be aimed at me. In a rush of movement, I acted.
Pushing away from the stranger, I leapt forward again, hissing and snarling as I went. Startled by my actions, what was a vaguely lizard- shaped shadow stopped and backed away a few paces. They stared at me from the darkness, blade drawn. I snarled again, still crouched on all fours and settled into an old battle stance I hadn't used in months.
"Still want to try?" I hissed.
Now if there's one thing that I know, it's that all bullies are really cowards at heart and often run at the first sign of retaliation. When I snarled again and flexed my claws, the shadow seemed to think better about attacking me again. His blade, what I can now see as a dagger-size, gleamed in the little bit of moonlight that had seeped through the clouds overhead, swaying experimentally, while he stood there, debating whether or not to lunge at me.
I remained where I was, tense and ready to strike back if I had to. There was no way I was about to back down now. Not after this. I would keep my promise to myself, no matter what happened. It turned out to be unnecessary. Probably having a fill of me already, the shadow withdrew. I think he glared at me and held his dagger in warning before leaving, but that was it.
I stayed where I was for a few seconds more, just to be sure that he was gone. No sense in letting my guard down just because he had given up. When I was certain he was gone, I relaxed a little bit and stood up again. A sound behind me drew my attention and I turned to see what it was.
I saw that the one I had fallen into was now rising as well. Their back was to me at first, so I wasn't exactly sure what they were. They were brushing off and seemed to be ignoring me for the moment. I waited, thinking it better to let them be instead of interrupting or offering to help. Some people were known to be touchy when I did that so I had learned that sometimes it was better to just keep my distance.
When they, or he rather as I soon learned, finally turned around, I found myself staring into two sets of blue-green fire. The flame was lodged in the eyes of a Katrian male who couldn't have been much older than me. He was possibly the one creature that I had ever met who looked more torn and skinnier than I was. His fur, a coal black covered in grime and muck, was a tangled mess that not even an industrial strength comb and shampoo set could ever hope to unravel. Clothing was only a tattered vest and pants that were as dirty as their owner. It was hard to tell just what color they had once been but at this point, they were almost the same shade as he was.
It was really a surprise for me to see him at all. Except for myself, Katrians weren't known to frequent the backwater worlds. They were rare and private creatures who kept to other places, only spotted occasionally among war parties or as mercenaries.
I had only recently learned what I was by then. For the first fourteen years of my life, I had thought that I was a mutant. That was because all my adopted family were mutants. When they found me, they could only assume that I was one as well and that was how they raised me.
It was also the reason why I first ran away from home. When I was younger, I readily agreed with what everyone said. I truly believed that I was a mutant. What reason did I have to believe that I wasn't? My family was, so that meant that I as too. But as I grew older, a feeling of doubt begin to creep over me.
I began to feel as if there was something wrong about that idea. It felt as if I were something else, only I didn't know what. So I questioned those around me, trying to find answers to the questions raging inside of me. Unfortunately, there were none.
No one had the answers that I sought. They could only give me speculations and things that I already knew. It was very frustrating for me and over time, this built up. Finally, it came to a point where I was lashing out at everyone and ended up fighting with the one person who could've helped me if I had let him: Splinter. The argument was one of the worst that I've ever gone through. I know that we both said things that we didn't mean and more than anything, I wish there was a way to take them back. But then, I didn't care. All that mattered to me then was finding the answers to my questions. Anything else could just take second string as far as I was concerned, even my family.
It was after that I left home. I left a note in my room, taking with me what few things that I felt I would need and snuck out during the night when everyone was busy. Then, I had no intention of ever returning. Not until I found what I was looking for, even if that took me a lifetime.
My journey took a dramatic twist when it was only a few hours old. On the surface, far from any known aid, the Foot ambushed me. They hadn't been much trouble for us in the last year but there were still rumors that they were still around and looking for a chance at the Turtles and their allies. So finding me, the Turtles' little sister alone and supposedly vulnerable, could have been nothing short of a miracle to them. If only they would learn that not being a Turtle didn't mean I was unable to fight back.
And fight back I did. There were maybe about six of them, more than I could really handle on my own. But not too many that I couldn't at least take down a few before they finally got me.
I don't know how long we fought. That information was and is forever beyond me. Then it felt like an eternity, though it could have only been a few moments to an hour. I don't know. I just know that it was during this fight that I was started on a path that leads to where what I have now become.
The battle had been going badly for me from the start. Though I had managed to knock out at least one of my opponents and sent the others back a few paces, they were still coming. As soon as I knocked them down, they were back on their feet again, pressing the attack.
Soon things were taking their toll on me. I wasn't used to fighting so many at once and it was very confusing to have to divide my attention in several directions at once. I was constantly getting knocked around and each new blow seemed to increase what I'd already received.
Other problems began while I dealt with what I already had. It was nothing at first. Just a small pinpoint in the air that just appeared and which steadily grew. None of us noticed it at first. We were too caught up in the battle to bother. It was only after it grew to the size of a large dog and flared violently that we took notice.
For a moment, we all stopped and watched as what we now saw was a light continued to grow. It was no single color, but several at once and then none at all. I say it like this because it was constantly changing. When it seemed like it was green, it would turn blue and when it seemed blue, it was black.
Whatever the color, both I and the Foot soldiers could sense that it was strange. There didn't seem to be any logical reason for it existing. But it did and there was no changing that.
The strangest thing, at least for me, was how looking at this light made me feel. Something instinctive drew me toward it and that feeling urged me to flee toward it. Desperate as I was for an escape, part of me resisted that idea. It wanted me to stand and fight, to stand my ground, as I knew that my brothers would. I sometimes wonder what would have happened if I had listened to that side of me. If maybe, I could have gotten away from that fight and back to the others again. Or if I would have lost and been captured, possibly used as bait to lure the Turtles into a fight then later killed.
I wonder all of this but it's one of those things that I'll never know. For once, I followed my instincts and while everyone else was staring at it, I ran toward the light. When they saw what I was doing, the braver of my attackers tried to follow me while their fellows fled. That only lasted a few seconds. For once I was close enough, the light enveloped me and I knew nothing else until I awoke on Krystalli, with only the tattered remains of my bag at my side.
In the months that followed, in the midst of surviving and running, I tried to find that light again. I knew that if I could, then there was a good chance that I could get back to Earth again. The only problem was, I had no idea what had caused it to begin with or where I could find the means to do so even if I did. No one I talked to ever said that they had seen anything like that before let alone heard about it.
Finally, I had given up searching on Krystalli and taken to looking on other worlds. It was always possible that if the people in one place didn't know something, there was a good chance that others in a separate location might. So, after stowing away on the first freighter I could find, I was off and gone until I reached Gidd and my present troubles.
I stared at the young male with uncertainty. He was still breathing heavily and shooting daggers in my direction with each blink. Neither one of us spoke for a moment and I was desperately hoping that he would be the first to speak and not me. I've never liked starting a conversation and in this case, it could mean either the start of another fight or a possible resolution.
See when I was growing up, I never talked verbally like those around me. I used my hands instead. Using a complex language of signs and gestures developed over many years, I used this to tell others what I wanted them to know. It wasn't easy for just anyone to understand and only Splinter and the Turtles, who had been around since I first started using my gestures, ever really understood it completely. There were many times when they had to be called when Casey or April needed a translation.
I suppose one might find it strange that I never talked as a child since I do all the time now. Well, maybe it is to some but not to me. Back then, I could understand and maybe even speak the words of my family and friends if I wanted. I can now, since sometimes I still curse in both Japanese and English without thinking about it. But I never did when I was on Earth.
There were two simple reasons for this. One, I just didn't want to talk and two, I was obeying my Sensei's teachings to a level he never thought I would take it to. They both sound stupid I know, but these are the reasons behind a silence that I held for the first fourteen years of my life.
If I go deeper into this, I suppose even I would have to admit to not knowing why I didn't want to talk as a child. Maybe I just didn't have anything to say or I could have been taking Splinter's teachings on ninja silence a bit too literally.
Which explains my second reason. For as long as I could remember, I was always taught that silence and stealth were key to being a ninja. If I wanted to be a warrior and go unseen by my enemies, I had to develop these skills to the fullest. I did that, though maybe not the way that anyone would have expected.
Coming to Dimension X meant not only did I have to learn what language to speak all over again but that I had to do it fast and several times over. With so many people roaming around the galaxy, languages get mixed more than once and sometimes it's hard to tell just what word can mean from one to the next.
Most of it I picked up pretty much the same way I learned things at home; I watched and I listened. Nothing else to it. I sat there, listening to the conversations and brawls around me, piecing each word together until I finally got a rudimentary of what they meant. When I could understand enough, I then worked on saying them myself and using them in what had become my day-to-day life. Those that I talked with understood what I was saying for the most part and usually answered me in terms I could figure out. Those that didn't answer did one of two things. They either ignored me or tried to punched me. I preferred it when they did the former and learned quick to duck when they did the latter.
So when I tried to speak with Zenith, I knew that I had to be careful what I said. I was still trying to get the hang of certain things and I wasn't sure whether or not he understood this universe's equivalent of a common language. Lucky for me, he did. For the most part anyhow.
"Scum-brain," he muttered as he brushed himself off.
To my relief, it was the common tongue. Something that I knew better than any other language here. Which meant that I wouldn't have much trouble talking to him after all.
"I am sorry," I said slowly.
"Sorry?" he snarled," You're sorry for knocking me into the dirt and making me drop my food? You're just sorry?"
He gestured toward the ground in emphasis. It was really too dark to see what was there, but if I squinted hard enough, I could just make out shapes. There were lumps littering the ground that could have well been his food.
"I didn't mean to," I said," Someone attacked me. I can't help that."
"Maybe," the male snorted," But you still could have been more careful. I spent all day looking for that food and now it's ruined, all thanks to you."
It took a few seconds for all this to sink in. What was this guy's problem? I mean, I could understand why he would be upset. I knew what it was like trying to find enough to eat. There was hardly any on a backwater world like Gidd and anything you found could be the deciding factor between life and death.
So I could see why he was upset about his food being somewhat spoiled now. That still didn't give him the right to act like I had meant to do it on purpose. I had told him that I was sorry and it wasn't like I knew that he was going to be there. It's not my fault he was passing by when this happened.
Still, I wasn't about to tell him all this. I had enough problems without him and I didn't want to add another enemy to the list that I already had. So, for the moment, I was willing just to let him rant and just smile so he would hopefully calm down.
"Yes. I am sorry for that. Didn't mean to get you drawn in," I nodded.
"Well, you did," he retorted, glaring at me," Just who are you anyway? I've never seen you around here before."
"Magnolia," I had answered," My name Magnolia. Who you?"
He fell silent after I spoke, looking at me in what can only be described as wariness and speculation. I can easily see why he was like this and it didn't take me long to figure out what he was thinking. He was probably wondering if I was playing a joke on him with my name. Well, he wasn't the first to think so.
"It's not your business but I'm Zenith," he answered finally," And what in the world did you say your name was?"
"Magnolia," I repeated," My name Magnolia. Called Maggie too."
"Ma-gi? Mag. Mag-noo?" Zenith tried to copy," How is anyone supposed to pronounce something that weird?"
I sighed, seeing no reason to keep this up. It wasn't the first time that someone here had tried saying my Earth name and ended up failing miserably. So I was stuck using the alternative that had slowly but surely become my identity in the minds of those that I encountered in this universe.
"Call me Lia," I corrected," Lia is also my name."
This I knew that Zenith would be able to pronounce. At this point, all the other inhabitants had been able to, which meant he should be able to as well. I'd probably end up kicking him if he couldn't.
"Well Lia or whatever your name is," Zenith spat acidly," I've got only one thing to say to you about what happened."
"What?" I asked.
"You cost me a lot of trouble and I won't forgive that. I have enough problems without some scrawny little furball giving me more. So if you ever come near me again, I swear that I'll kill you, Lia," he swore.
Taken aback by his words, I protested," I said that I was sorry. You don't have to act like that."
Zenith only scowled at me, baring his teeth a little. I wasn't impressed with his attitude nor was I stupid about it. From years of living with a hothead like Raph, I knew when someone was just nearing their breaking point.
"I can help you find more food," I suggested," Would that help?"
Snorting, Zenith sneered," Are you serious? You actually expect me to believe that you want to help me. How gullible do you think I am?"
"It's the truth," I insisted," I will help you."
"No," Zenith said flatly," Even if you owe it to me, I don't want your help. You'll just get in the way."
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"Being around others is a liability. It slows you down. The only one you can depend on is yourself," he snarled," Now get away from me or I'll kill you now instead of later."
His eyes shined fiercely as he glared at me, the promise of his words in them. I glared back, a bit unsettled by what he said but refusing to back down. Our eyes remained locked that way for a few seconds, and then, like a shadow, he was gone. Disappeared into the night and to who knows where.
I stood there for a long time after he was gone. It was only the second time that I had ever met another Katrian and both times it had been very unsettling. The first had been a female whose name I never knew and who had been dying when we met. Someone had attacked and stabbed her at some point and then dumped her in a junkyard after what I could only assume was torture.
I say this because the poor creature was insane by the time I came across her. Not only from the pain, but from the things that had been done to her by her attackers. I never knew the exact details and I don't think that I want to. Just looking at her wounds was enough to ward me off of that subject.
Not that I think she would have answered if I asked. She was too delirious and sick with fever by then. The only thing that came out of her mouth besides cries of pain were strange babblings that only she could understand.
When I found her, I was moved by pity for another worse off than myself and so tried to help her. I soon found it a lost cause. Every time I or anyone else attempted to come near her, the Katrian would lash out with weak but deadly accuracy, snarling and spitting incoherent warnings. The only thing that could be done was to watch her waste away until she finally died, leaving only a broken shell of a body behind.
It still makes me shiver when I think about her. That poor creature had been a lot like me, alone and forgotten in a world where no one seemed to care whether you lived or died. I had tried to move her to somewhere more comfortable while she was still alive but I didn't make it very far with that idea. She was so deep in her delirium that any attempts to move her were met with hostile retaliation. So I could only stand by and watch as her life finally seeped away.
This second time had gone no better. Not only had I caused trouble for a fellow Katrian but I had made an enemy of him as well. It made me wonder if I would ever get on the good side of another Katrian. At the rate I was going, I seriously doubted it.
It was soon after I parted ways with Zenith I was captured and taken to Rancor for the first time. It was there that I truly had to fight for my survival, since everyone there really is out to kill everyone else. Meaning that like everything else I'd dealt with up to that point, even one mistake could be lethal. And it was there that I remained for more than a year until my subsequent rescue by Kale, Zenith and the others.
So that's about everything in a nutshell. By my calculations, I'm almost seventeen and that means that I've been in this godforsaken war zone nearly three years. The first seven months spent trying to find my footing and learning about where I been brought to. The next fifteen months being captured and sent to a penal colony where I was expected to rot for the rest of my life. And the last seven months of this ordeal being rescued and assimilated into a band of rebels that can sometimes be more trouble than it's worth. Today as an example of such. Yeah, that's just about the whole story.
Oh man. If there is such a thing as reincarnation or an afterlife, I'm seriously hoping that it's better than this. I could definitely use a change from the one that I'm living now.
Chapter 8: Looking back
I had only one plan in mind when I returned to my quarters. First, find the strongest painkiller that I could in the stash that I kept handy and get rid of my headache. Second, take a long soak in one of the hot springs littered around Furlough. Last, go to bed and sleep for the rest of the day. Preferably all in that order.
Well, at least that's the way that I would have liked it to go. The farthest I got was to my quarters, finding the painkiller, and thus getting rid of my headache. The brunt of it at least. The rest sort of just fell away somehow and I found myself sitting on my bunk trying to meditate instead.
As a child, there was nothing that I hated more than meditation. It was so boring to me then. All you could do was sit in one spot for hours on end and just think. Who would want to do that when there was so many other interesting things to be done? Like, playing hide and seek or pouncing on one of my brothers when they weren't looking. That was definitely more fun than just 'reflecting on the lessons of the day' as Splinter often said.
But that was what life was like. No matter how much I might have wanted it to be then, life couldn't be all fun and games. There were other things that had to be done, lessons to be learned and tasks to be mastered. Meditation just happened to be part of the package.
One thing that has changed is the frequency on which I do many of those old habits. Meditating used to be a daily event for me, usually happening in early evening or late afternoon just after training. Now though, it's become more of a monthly thing. I still meditate, but only when I feel it's absolutely necessary or I do it subconsciously when I'm upset about something.
Like now. Though not as bad as before, I'm still a bit tense from earlier and that's making it hard to concentrate. I keeping attempting to calm myself down and reach the point where I can reflect successively but it keeps slipping. Every time I come close to settling down the thought of what happened rises up in my mind and my aggravation just flares up again. Then I'm stuck back at square one again. And that's more or less how the last hour has been, with me attempting to meditate and continuously failing.
That's right. It's been more than an hour since the incident with Talceryn and I'm still trying to sort through it all. I still can't believe that he dared to come at me like that, telling me who I should be mated to and what I should do with my life. No one's told me how to live my life, ever. Even Splinter never tried that and he was my father and Master. He may have kept me line during my early years and set rules for me to follow, but he never tried to determine my every move. Master Splinter always understood that we were each individuals and that the time would one day come when we would have to make our own choices in life. So he gave his children guidelines to follow but no set path. That was up to us to decide.
Maybe in Rancor they came close to running my life but not in the sense I'm thinking of. With a place like that, they don't give you a choice in the matter. They just flat out tell you what to do and there's no argument about it. Go against what they say and you'll find yourself on the wrong end of a blaster.
No, what I mean is the personal freedom that we're all born with. The right to choose what we do with our lives and how we go about getting our goals done. It's something that most take for granted, including me, until someone violates that right and we retaliate. Which is what happened today.
Talceryn trespassed on my rights and I fought back. Maybe it wasn't the smartest thing to break his nose like I did, but I don't think I would go back on it if I could. From my first days in Dimension X, I had dealt with bullies like him in worse situations and sometimes the only thing that they understand is to smash something in their face.
Unbidden, memories of those early days started to rise to the surface when I lost concentration again. It made me shiver to have these things in mind and I tried to force them down again. I had too much on my mind and right now these old images weren't helping. But it did me little good. My memories, stubborn as the one who carried them, refused my attempts and continued to rise.
What I remember isn't pleasant and I hate it when they drift into conscious thought like this. Normally I keep these memories buried in some corner of my mind and let stand at that. Sometimes though, when my guard is down, they force their way out and I can't help but recall the disturbing images of those times and how I felt then.
The foremost among these images are always the darkness and chill of the world where I woke up just after being transported. It was a deadly world that I now know is called Krystalli and it is a place where there were more cutthroats and hoods than the whole of New York combined. But back then, I knew it only it as the beginning of a living nightmare that I still want out of.
It was a very confusing time for me then. I had no idea where I was or what was going on. Everything around me was strange. I was surrounded by people who hurt me and in a place where I soon found myself nearly starving on a daily basis.
I cried more in those first weeks than I ever had in my life. Cried for someone to wake me up from the impossible nightmare I was in. Cried for my father and brothers to be there to help me. Cried for everything that I had walked away from and instinctively knew that I would never see again. Cried for the loneliness I was now in to come to an end. Cried for a thousand other reasons that I don't even remember now or care to.
Crying was all I seemed to do then and back then, I didn't know any better about doing that. I was just too upset about losing my former life that I didn't understand that it was actually crying that was making my new life even worse than it had to be. The ones that I encountered in my early travels were not the friendliest of people and they were willing to take advantage of any weakness they found, especially if it meant something for them to gain. They saw my crying as such and thus felt that I was an easy mark. So more than once I found myself fending off someone who was either trying to steal what little that I carried or trying to get rid of what they saw as competition.
This happened on a daily basis and I soon found myself hiding away from everyone else in whatever corner I could find. I knew that it was beneath me, skulking in holes from the likes of those scoundrels. I had been raised to stand up for myself and not to let others bully me. But most here were bigger than me and often traveled in groups. I was alone and puny compared to them. In a fight, I might have been able to handle one at the time if I had to. But against a larger force like the ones I was often up against, I had no choice but to run and hide, whether I liked it or not.
After nearly three months of this continually happening, I finally came to a realization. All the crying in the world wasn't going to help me get home again or bring back the ones that I loved. If anything, it was only causing me more trouble than I needed. So, I made a decision that I've kept to this day.
I promised myself that I wasn't going to cry anymore, no matter what. I decided that it was time that I stopped being such a baby and grow up. If I wanted to survive, then I had to be tougher than I was acting and prove that I could handle anything that came my way.
So the next time that someone tried to steal from me, I was going to be ready. I would fight them if I had to and show them that regardless of size or number that I wouldn't back down from a threat. If only I had known that when the next theft did occur, that it would include none other than my newest 'student' and headache, Zenith.
That's right. I first met Zenith during another robbery attempt. He wasn't the thief in question of course, but he got caught up in the action of it all. I guess you could say that he was in the wrong place in the wrong time.
It all happened during my fourth month of living in Dimension X. By then, I had managed to find a way off Krystalli and was now on a world called Gidd. There were fewer problems than on Krystalli and so I didn't have to worry as much about being robbed. That didn't mean it was totally crime-free. There's no place like that except in a dream. Still, any change is better than nothing and I was willing to take any that I could find.
I had been sleeping in an abandoned storeroom that I had found earlier that week. It was small, only about the size of a large closet and half cluttered with old junk that I couldn't even begin to identify. But it was dry and no one else bothered with it but me. That meant that it was safe and so I felt that I could sleep there without having to worry about being bothered.
Boy was I wrong. About the fifth night I had spent in the storeroom, I had a visitor. I don't know who it was or what they were after exactly, but in the middle of the night, someone came while I slept.
They snuck in through a hole in the wall, the only possible entrance to the room that wasn't locked or blocked by debris. It was just big enough for me to fit through, which meant that unless someone ripped out the wall, they would have to be my size in order to follow.
That made me feel a bit safer in a way. I was small for my age and always had been. Though I had been growing in the last six months, I was still under five feet. Since most of those I had come across were usually twice my size and had to use brute force to get into enclosed areas, I wasn't really worried. Unless they were really bored, no one would waste their time trying to get to me in here.
Again, there was still so much that I had to learn. Like so many other things in life, size isn't always an issue. Doesn't matter if they're bigger than me or my size, a person can turn out to be major trouble if they can find just the right time to strike.
I found this out when I was grabbed in my sleep by just such a person. One hand clamped over my mouth and the other held my hands fast. Their owner then dragged me from the storeroom. It was a tight fit, as they had to first get themselves out and then pull me after them. I was struggling the entire time, which certainly didn't help my captor any. Somehow or another, they did manage the operation and I soon found myself out in the night air of Gidd.
Still holding me fast, a voice that could only be male hissed in my ear," Stop squirming, whelp. You're making this harder on yourself than it has to be, whelp. Just give me what I want and I'll promise it will only hurt a day or so after I leave."
I had no idea what he wanted or why, but I certainly knew that I wasn't going to give him anything. So I continued to struggle, increasing my efforts with every ounce of strength that I could muster. It wasn't an easy task though, since my attacker may have been my size but he was stronger and was refusing to budge.
Still, if there's one thing that I will admit about myself it's that I'm stubborn and once I set my mind to something I won't stop until I'm done. So while I was held, I squirmed and struggled intensely, silently praying that it would be enough. As a side effort, I kicked backward when I could, hoping to hit something.
One kick proved to be true. The claws on my feet, unsheathed and sharper than those on my hands, had managed to slice into the skin of attacker's leg. I don't know how deep they went, but it was enough.
I heard an instant yowl of surprise and pain from behind. The hand, which I could now see was a scaled gray-blue, loosened its grip and was lowered ever so slightly. This was all that I needed.
It wasn't much, but there was enough room for me to maneuver my mouth over a thumb. Biting down as hard as I could, I sank my teeth into it. Like any cat, my teeth are sharp and made for the art of biting and tearing. An act such as this one and for which I received immediate reward.
The grip that held me disappeared entirely and with it my own. My teeth, now filling my mouth with a foul taste of scale and blood, came loose as I was thrown aside by my former captor. I'm guessing that I flew a half a dozen feet or more, since I remember passing by the wall of my storeroom hideout. It's not for certain, but I know that I landed near there.
To be more precise, I landed on someone near there. Unnoticed by either myself or my attacker, someone else had been passing by while we fought. They may or may not have noticed us either, I don't know. I can only say that they were certainly surprised when I was dropped onto them. I know that I was.
We both landed in a heap, with me on top and the stranger on the bottom. I can't speak for the latter, but I know that the wind was definitely knocked out of me. For a few seconds, we just stayed there, trying to collect our wits.
Behind us, I could hear the unmistakable sound of metal being unsheathed. Instinctively, I knew that could only mean a blade, large or small, was about to be aimed at me. In a rush of movement, I acted.
Pushing away from the stranger, I leapt forward again, hissing and snarling as I went. Startled by my actions, what was a vaguely lizard- shaped shadow stopped and backed away a few paces. They stared at me from the darkness, blade drawn. I snarled again, still crouched on all fours and settled into an old battle stance I hadn't used in months.
"Still want to try?" I hissed.
Now if there's one thing that I know, it's that all bullies are really cowards at heart and often run at the first sign of retaliation. When I snarled again and flexed my claws, the shadow seemed to think better about attacking me again. His blade, what I can now see as a dagger-size, gleamed in the little bit of moonlight that had seeped through the clouds overhead, swaying experimentally, while he stood there, debating whether or not to lunge at me.
I remained where I was, tense and ready to strike back if I had to. There was no way I was about to back down now. Not after this. I would keep my promise to myself, no matter what happened. It turned out to be unnecessary. Probably having a fill of me already, the shadow withdrew. I think he glared at me and held his dagger in warning before leaving, but that was it.
I stayed where I was for a few seconds more, just to be sure that he was gone. No sense in letting my guard down just because he had given up. When I was certain he was gone, I relaxed a little bit and stood up again. A sound behind me drew my attention and I turned to see what it was.
I saw that the one I had fallen into was now rising as well. Their back was to me at first, so I wasn't exactly sure what they were. They were brushing off and seemed to be ignoring me for the moment. I waited, thinking it better to let them be instead of interrupting or offering to help. Some people were known to be touchy when I did that so I had learned that sometimes it was better to just keep my distance.
When they, or he rather as I soon learned, finally turned around, I found myself staring into two sets of blue-green fire. The flame was lodged in the eyes of a Katrian male who couldn't have been much older than me. He was possibly the one creature that I had ever met who looked more torn and skinnier than I was. His fur, a coal black covered in grime and muck, was a tangled mess that not even an industrial strength comb and shampoo set could ever hope to unravel. Clothing was only a tattered vest and pants that were as dirty as their owner. It was hard to tell just what color they had once been but at this point, they were almost the same shade as he was.
It was really a surprise for me to see him at all. Except for myself, Katrians weren't known to frequent the backwater worlds. They were rare and private creatures who kept to other places, only spotted occasionally among war parties or as mercenaries.
I had only recently learned what I was by then. For the first fourteen years of my life, I had thought that I was a mutant. That was because all my adopted family were mutants. When they found me, they could only assume that I was one as well and that was how they raised me.
It was also the reason why I first ran away from home. When I was younger, I readily agreed with what everyone said. I truly believed that I was a mutant. What reason did I have to believe that I wasn't? My family was, so that meant that I as too. But as I grew older, a feeling of doubt begin to creep over me.
I began to feel as if there was something wrong about that idea. It felt as if I were something else, only I didn't know what. So I questioned those around me, trying to find answers to the questions raging inside of me. Unfortunately, there were none.
No one had the answers that I sought. They could only give me speculations and things that I already knew. It was very frustrating for me and over time, this built up. Finally, it came to a point where I was lashing out at everyone and ended up fighting with the one person who could've helped me if I had let him: Splinter. The argument was one of the worst that I've ever gone through. I know that we both said things that we didn't mean and more than anything, I wish there was a way to take them back. But then, I didn't care. All that mattered to me then was finding the answers to my questions. Anything else could just take second string as far as I was concerned, even my family.
It was after that I left home. I left a note in my room, taking with me what few things that I felt I would need and snuck out during the night when everyone was busy. Then, I had no intention of ever returning. Not until I found what I was looking for, even if that took me a lifetime.
My journey took a dramatic twist when it was only a few hours old. On the surface, far from any known aid, the Foot ambushed me. They hadn't been much trouble for us in the last year but there were still rumors that they were still around and looking for a chance at the Turtles and their allies. So finding me, the Turtles' little sister alone and supposedly vulnerable, could have been nothing short of a miracle to them. If only they would learn that not being a Turtle didn't mean I was unable to fight back.
And fight back I did. There were maybe about six of them, more than I could really handle on my own. But not too many that I couldn't at least take down a few before they finally got me.
I don't know how long we fought. That information was and is forever beyond me. Then it felt like an eternity, though it could have only been a few moments to an hour. I don't know. I just know that it was during this fight that I was started on a path that leads to where what I have now become.
The battle had been going badly for me from the start. Though I had managed to knock out at least one of my opponents and sent the others back a few paces, they were still coming. As soon as I knocked them down, they were back on their feet again, pressing the attack.
Soon things were taking their toll on me. I wasn't used to fighting so many at once and it was very confusing to have to divide my attention in several directions at once. I was constantly getting knocked around and each new blow seemed to increase what I'd already received.
Other problems began while I dealt with what I already had. It was nothing at first. Just a small pinpoint in the air that just appeared and which steadily grew. None of us noticed it at first. We were too caught up in the battle to bother. It was only after it grew to the size of a large dog and flared violently that we took notice.
For a moment, we all stopped and watched as what we now saw was a light continued to grow. It was no single color, but several at once and then none at all. I say it like this because it was constantly changing. When it seemed like it was green, it would turn blue and when it seemed blue, it was black.
Whatever the color, both I and the Foot soldiers could sense that it was strange. There didn't seem to be any logical reason for it existing. But it did and there was no changing that.
The strangest thing, at least for me, was how looking at this light made me feel. Something instinctive drew me toward it and that feeling urged me to flee toward it. Desperate as I was for an escape, part of me resisted that idea. It wanted me to stand and fight, to stand my ground, as I knew that my brothers would. I sometimes wonder what would have happened if I had listened to that side of me. If maybe, I could have gotten away from that fight and back to the others again. Or if I would have lost and been captured, possibly used as bait to lure the Turtles into a fight then later killed.
I wonder all of this but it's one of those things that I'll never know. For once, I followed my instincts and while everyone else was staring at it, I ran toward the light. When they saw what I was doing, the braver of my attackers tried to follow me while their fellows fled. That only lasted a few seconds. For once I was close enough, the light enveloped me and I knew nothing else until I awoke on Krystalli, with only the tattered remains of my bag at my side.
In the months that followed, in the midst of surviving and running, I tried to find that light again. I knew that if I could, then there was a good chance that I could get back to Earth again. The only problem was, I had no idea what had caused it to begin with or where I could find the means to do so even if I did. No one I talked to ever said that they had seen anything like that before let alone heard about it.
Finally, I had given up searching on Krystalli and taken to looking on other worlds. It was always possible that if the people in one place didn't know something, there was a good chance that others in a separate location might. So, after stowing away on the first freighter I could find, I was off and gone until I reached Gidd and my present troubles.
I stared at the young male with uncertainty. He was still breathing heavily and shooting daggers in my direction with each blink. Neither one of us spoke for a moment and I was desperately hoping that he would be the first to speak and not me. I've never liked starting a conversation and in this case, it could mean either the start of another fight or a possible resolution.
See when I was growing up, I never talked verbally like those around me. I used my hands instead. Using a complex language of signs and gestures developed over many years, I used this to tell others what I wanted them to know. It wasn't easy for just anyone to understand and only Splinter and the Turtles, who had been around since I first started using my gestures, ever really understood it completely. There were many times when they had to be called when Casey or April needed a translation.
I suppose one might find it strange that I never talked as a child since I do all the time now. Well, maybe it is to some but not to me. Back then, I could understand and maybe even speak the words of my family and friends if I wanted. I can now, since sometimes I still curse in both Japanese and English without thinking about it. But I never did when I was on Earth.
There were two simple reasons for this. One, I just didn't want to talk and two, I was obeying my Sensei's teachings to a level he never thought I would take it to. They both sound stupid I know, but these are the reasons behind a silence that I held for the first fourteen years of my life.
If I go deeper into this, I suppose even I would have to admit to not knowing why I didn't want to talk as a child. Maybe I just didn't have anything to say or I could have been taking Splinter's teachings on ninja silence a bit too literally.
Which explains my second reason. For as long as I could remember, I was always taught that silence and stealth were key to being a ninja. If I wanted to be a warrior and go unseen by my enemies, I had to develop these skills to the fullest. I did that, though maybe not the way that anyone would have expected.
Coming to Dimension X meant not only did I have to learn what language to speak all over again but that I had to do it fast and several times over. With so many people roaming around the galaxy, languages get mixed more than once and sometimes it's hard to tell just what word can mean from one to the next.
Most of it I picked up pretty much the same way I learned things at home; I watched and I listened. Nothing else to it. I sat there, listening to the conversations and brawls around me, piecing each word together until I finally got a rudimentary of what they meant. When I could understand enough, I then worked on saying them myself and using them in what had become my day-to-day life. Those that I talked with understood what I was saying for the most part and usually answered me in terms I could figure out. Those that didn't answer did one of two things. They either ignored me or tried to punched me. I preferred it when they did the former and learned quick to duck when they did the latter.
So when I tried to speak with Zenith, I knew that I had to be careful what I said. I was still trying to get the hang of certain things and I wasn't sure whether or not he understood this universe's equivalent of a common language. Lucky for me, he did. For the most part anyhow.
"Scum-brain," he muttered as he brushed himself off.
To my relief, it was the common tongue. Something that I knew better than any other language here. Which meant that I wouldn't have much trouble talking to him after all.
"I am sorry," I said slowly.
"Sorry?" he snarled," You're sorry for knocking me into the dirt and making me drop my food? You're just sorry?"
He gestured toward the ground in emphasis. It was really too dark to see what was there, but if I squinted hard enough, I could just make out shapes. There were lumps littering the ground that could have well been his food.
"I didn't mean to," I said," Someone attacked me. I can't help that."
"Maybe," the male snorted," But you still could have been more careful. I spent all day looking for that food and now it's ruined, all thanks to you."
It took a few seconds for all this to sink in. What was this guy's problem? I mean, I could understand why he would be upset. I knew what it was like trying to find enough to eat. There was hardly any on a backwater world like Gidd and anything you found could be the deciding factor between life and death.
So I could see why he was upset about his food being somewhat spoiled now. That still didn't give him the right to act like I had meant to do it on purpose. I had told him that I was sorry and it wasn't like I knew that he was going to be there. It's not my fault he was passing by when this happened.
Still, I wasn't about to tell him all this. I had enough problems without him and I didn't want to add another enemy to the list that I already had. So, for the moment, I was willing just to let him rant and just smile so he would hopefully calm down.
"Yes. I am sorry for that. Didn't mean to get you drawn in," I nodded.
"Well, you did," he retorted, glaring at me," Just who are you anyway? I've never seen you around here before."
"Magnolia," I had answered," My name Magnolia. Who you?"
He fell silent after I spoke, looking at me in what can only be described as wariness and speculation. I can easily see why he was like this and it didn't take me long to figure out what he was thinking. He was probably wondering if I was playing a joke on him with my name. Well, he wasn't the first to think so.
"It's not your business but I'm Zenith," he answered finally," And what in the world did you say your name was?"
"Magnolia," I repeated," My name Magnolia. Called Maggie too."
"Ma-gi? Mag. Mag-noo?" Zenith tried to copy," How is anyone supposed to pronounce something that weird?"
I sighed, seeing no reason to keep this up. It wasn't the first time that someone here had tried saying my Earth name and ended up failing miserably. So I was stuck using the alternative that had slowly but surely become my identity in the minds of those that I encountered in this universe.
"Call me Lia," I corrected," Lia is also my name."
This I knew that Zenith would be able to pronounce. At this point, all the other inhabitants had been able to, which meant he should be able to as well. I'd probably end up kicking him if he couldn't.
"Well Lia or whatever your name is," Zenith spat acidly," I've got only one thing to say to you about what happened."
"What?" I asked.
"You cost me a lot of trouble and I won't forgive that. I have enough problems without some scrawny little furball giving me more. So if you ever come near me again, I swear that I'll kill you, Lia," he swore.
Taken aback by his words, I protested," I said that I was sorry. You don't have to act like that."
Zenith only scowled at me, baring his teeth a little. I wasn't impressed with his attitude nor was I stupid about it. From years of living with a hothead like Raph, I knew when someone was just nearing their breaking point.
"I can help you find more food," I suggested," Would that help?"
Snorting, Zenith sneered," Are you serious? You actually expect me to believe that you want to help me. How gullible do you think I am?"
"It's the truth," I insisted," I will help you."
"No," Zenith said flatly," Even if you owe it to me, I don't want your help. You'll just get in the way."
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"Being around others is a liability. It slows you down. The only one you can depend on is yourself," he snarled," Now get away from me or I'll kill you now instead of later."
His eyes shined fiercely as he glared at me, the promise of his words in them. I glared back, a bit unsettled by what he said but refusing to back down. Our eyes remained locked that way for a few seconds, and then, like a shadow, he was gone. Disappeared into the night and to who knows where.
I stood there for a long time after he was gone. It was only the second time that I had ever met another Katrian and both times it had been very unsettling. The first had been a female whose name I never knew and who had been dying when we met. Someone had attacked and stabbed her at some point and then dumped her in a junkyard after what I could only assume was torture.
I say this because the poor creature was insane by the time I came across her. Not only from the pain, but from the things that had been done to her by her attackers. I never knew the exact details and I don't think that I want to. Just looking at her wounds was enough to ward me off of that subject.
Not that I think she would have answered if I asked. She was too delirious and sick with fever by then. The only thing that came out of her mouth besides cries of pain were strange babblings that only she could understand.
When I found her, I was moved by pity for another worse off than myself and so tried to help her. I soon found it a lost cause. Every time I or anyone else attempted to come near her, the Katrian would lash out with weak but deadly accuracy, snarling and spitting incoherent warnings. The only thing that could be done was to watch her waste away until she finally died, leaving only a broken shell of a body behind.
It still makes me shiver when I think about her. That poor creature had been a lot like me, alone and forgotten in a world where no one seemed to care whether you lived or died. I had tried to move her to somewhere more comfortable while she was still alive but I didn't make it very far with that idea. She was so deep in her delirium that any attempts to move her were met with hostile retaliation. So I could only stand by and watch as her life finally seeped away.
This second time had gone no better. Not only had I caused trouble for a fellow Katrian but I had made an enemy of him as well. It made me wonder if I would ever get on the good side of another Katrian. At the rate I was going, I seriously doubted it.
It was soon after I parted ways with Zenith I was captured and taken to Rancor for the first time. It was there that I truly had to fight for my survival, since everyone there really is out to kill everyone else. Meaning that like everything else I'd dealt with up to that point, even one mistake could be lethal. And it was there that I remained for more than a year until my subsequent rescue by Kale, Zenith and the others.
So that's about everything in a nutshell. By my calculations, I'm almost seventeen and that means that I've been in this godforsaken war zone nearly three years. The first seven months spent trying to find my footing and learning about where I been brought to. The next fifteen months being captured and sent to a penal colony where I was expected to rot for the rest of my life. And the last seven months of this ordeal being rescued and assimilated into a band of rebels that can sometimes be more trouble than it's worth. Today as an example of such. Yeah, that's just about the whole story.
Oh man. If there is such a thing as reincarnation or an afterlife, I'm seriously hoping that it's better than this. I could definitely use a change from the one that I'm living now.
