Chapter Sixty-Two: Silver Linings
Cruz Arevalo was fishing for silver linings, at the moment.
As a person who had a very positive outlook on life, Cruz rarely found himself fishing for silver linings. No matter how dire the situation, there were always silver linings to be found, usually in the form of joints. But now, it seemed even a joint might not be able to do the trick.
The iguana-consorts of the Land of Lights and Smoke were slaughtering each other, and all Cruz could do was watch from a nearby clifftop.
Cruz knew very little about his consorts to begin with - due in no small part to a useless sprite guide. Santasprite's usefulness encompassed any and all questions that could be answered with a cheerful 'Ho Ho Ho!'. Unfortunately, this seemed to be the extent of the strange spirit guide's vocabulary, and it did not help Cruz very much when he asked Santasprite about his consorts.
For over a week, now, Cruz had traveled all over LOLAS, and he had learned a few things. He learned that the vast majority of his planet was a giant ocean. He learned that his house had arrived on LOLAS's only landmass - a giant island, about the size of Australia, home to the iguana-consorts. He learned that the consorts lived as two separate tribes. He learned that these two tribes, having developed technology reminiscent of the Renaissance-era Ottoman Empire, had long since grown past the myths and legends of older times.
They cared nothing for the coming of the Sage. Cruz's attempts to contact both tribes had been met with hostility, primitive gunfire, and hails of arrows. Even a few thrown spears, just for good measure. Needless to say, Cruz quickly learned to avoid his consorts like the plague. Ironically enough, it was not his own consorts whom Cruz quickly befriended...but, rather, the underlings.
Cruz took another hit from his most recent joint, gestured down to the battle that was raging in the valley below, two separate armies of iguana-consorts colliding into each other in a mess of sabers, bayonets, and cannon. Smoke was beginning to fill the valley - acrid, bloody smog that smelled of death; not the fragrant, smoky vapours that were given off by LOLAS's natural hot vents and geysers.
"Just look at all that shit, Cheech," he said to the imp perched on the edge of the cliff to his left. "Fuckin' fools, man, every one of 'em. Why won't they listen to me?"
Cheech extended a claw and tapped Cruz politely on the elbow.
"Hm? What's up, little man?"
The imp gave a quiet giggle and mimicked the act of smoking with one hand, pointing to the weed with the other.
"Oh shit, bro, sorry!" Cruz passed the joint over to Cheech. "My bad, sometimes I just start talkin' and tokin', tokin' and talkin', and I forget to pass!"
Cheech took a long hit off the joint, purring with pleasure as he exhaled. It always made Cruz smile when he heard the imps purr - none of his friends ever believed him when he told them that imps purr. His little secret, then.
"You forgive me, little man?" Cruz asked.
Cheech bared his sharp white teeth in a wolfish grin, nodding rapidly several times. He then flicked the joint high into the air. It arced up over Cruz and was elegantly caught by the imp lying to the teenager's right. Cruz glanced over to his right, raising an eyebrow at his second imp companion. "How 'bout you, Chong, you forgive me too?"
Chong took his own hit off the joint, blowing an appreciative puff of smoke gently into Cruz's face.
Cruz's smile widened. "Thought so. I love you guys, you understand. Maybe if the lizard-boys down there paid more attention to you, they'd learn a thing or two."
Chong handed the joint back to Cruz. By now, the joint had burned down to a roach, forcing Cruz to handle it gingerly.
"'Course…'course, you guys were actually pretty damn bloodthirsty before I introduced you to my friend Mary Jane, here…keep forgettin' that..." Cruz murmured, recognizing some of the absurdity in his last statement. "You probs woulda tried to turn 'em into munchies if you weren't high as shit...heh… That sounded ironic… Yo, Cheech, was that ironic?"
Cheech could only shrug.
"Yeah, I'm not sure, either...have to look 'ironic' up in the encyclopictionary...eh, who cares, I thought it was funny…" Cruz shrugged, turning his attention back to the battle raging in the valley below. "Still doesn't help me with my squabbling consorts issue, though. Any ideas, guys?"
Suddenly, Cheech and Chong sprang up to their feet, baring their claws, their purring turning into harsh hissing.
"Aw, no, guys, chill out!" Cruz frowned in confusion, unsure as to why his two companions were acting up, not wanting to have to defend himself from them. He turned away from the cliff edge, getting up to his knees. "C'mon, whats wrong? Don't worry, I got a whole fuckin' pound of Mary in my sylladex! And besides, this place has fields full of weed, we're not in any danger of running out."
Cruz's words did not alleviate the imps' fears. No sooner had he finished speaking did the imps bound forward, sprinting straight towards one of the larger bushes that sat behind where Cruz had been watching the battle. Their hisses had turned into full-on growls.
"Wait, guys, wait!" Cruz sprang to his feet, moving to pursue his friends. "Was it something I said? C'mon, amigos, I don't want to be alone again-"
The bush gave a slight rustle. Something shot out of the shrubbery, and Chong suddenly stopped dead in his tracks, falling over backward. There was a small knife embedded in his chest, blood already beginning to stream from the wound. The imp was quite dead.
Cheech gave a furious scream and leaped towards the bush...only to have his scream abruptly cut off when a second throwing knife caught him directly between the eyes with a sickening thuck. The imp's body thudded to the ground without any further noise.
Cruz was stunned, speechless, as he gazed at the corpses of his dead companions.
The bush parted to reveal a short figure dressed in a creased, wrinkled black suit. The figure's skin was hard, glossy, and black - a Dersite. He had angular white eyes, sharp teeth, and an expression of pure grouchiness. In his hand, the Dersite held a third knife, this one larger than the first two.
Anger surged through Cruz, knotting in his gut. "Hijo de puta, cabron, no! They were my fucking friends! Why'd you kill them?"
The Dersite rolled his eyes. "Shut up, meatbag," he said. Then, without any warning, he threw his third knife, impaling Cruz right through the throat.
Gwen Twymann stood balanced on the larboard-bow railing, steadying herself by grabbing hold of a line. She'd seen sailors do this all the time in movies, and it was a lot harder than it looked! Between the salty spray whipping across her face, the breeze plucking at her limbs and clothing, and the rising/falling of the waves, keeping one's balance on the railing was a challenge.
But it was a fun challenge.
Gwen was trying to enjoy the view of the sunset reflecting off the sparkling green waters of the cove, though it was difficult to ignore the tension that was abound among the crew of the Viridian Wind. That was because they were making port in the Metropolis, the capital city of the Land of Shores and Prisms. The night before had been spent in total darkness and silence as the corsairs slipped through the patrols of the Metropolis Fleet.
The ramification of this was that the Metropolis was home to the Assembly, which had been described to Gwen as the ruling body of the turtle-consorts. A more powerful and centralized equivalent of the United Nations, if you will. Corsairs were not necessarily welcome, there. But the Viridian Wind had something that would be of supreme interest to the Assembly...the Witch of Light.
"Quite a sight, isn't it?"
Gwen didn't need to glance over her shoulder to know that it had been Aristophanes who'd just spoken. The first mate of the Viridian Wind spent most of his time with the teenager. They enjoyed playing chess together at night, for example, after the crew went belowdecks. "It's a beautiful city…" Gwen murmured in agreement.
The docks of the Metropolis hugged the coast of the mostly-enclosed cove that the Viridian Wind had sailed into. It was the only part of the city's coastline that was accessible by sea - all the rest had been built along the sheer sea cliffs, or were completely walled off. Gwen could see stone rooftops glittering in the brilliant light of Skaia as it dipped down into the west. Gulls circled round and round in the skies above the harbor.
Yes, it was a beautiful city. It was too bad, Gwen thought, that the harbor smelled like feces.
"Shame about the smell, but some things can't be helped," Aristophanes chuckled, sensing what Gwen was thinking. "I suppose one gets used to it, over time, especially if you lived here. I barely notice it."
Gwen looked at the one-eyed turtle-consort, now. "You lived here?"
Aristophanes nodded. "A lifetime ago, yes. My hope is that you will be able to make the Assembly listen."
"Doesn't sound like they're too keen on listening to corsairs, if half the things I've heard about them are true," Gwen remarked.
"We are not the only corsairs who roam the oceans, Gwen," Aristophanes reminded the teenage girl. "Many of us have done much to tarnish our reputation - the Assembly's prejudices are not entirely unjustified. But I have...connections...with the current Assembly Prefect. And they will not be hearing the rabblings of grungy, windblown, salt-encrusted corsairs, heavens no! They will instead be listening to the Witch of Light, in the flesh, blood, and bone. A Hero is a tad more difficult to ignore, would you not agree?"
"Sure," Gwen conceded. "But when you say 'make the Assembly listen', what exactly am I supposed to be telling them?"
"Convincing them that you are the Witch of Light will be enough," Aristophanes assured her.
A seagull swooped down low, gliding past Gwen's head. It was likely searching for food of some sort. Finding none, it settled for taking a quick poop, splattering the mainmast with white. Several of the nearest consorts hollered curses and swears after the gull as it flew away, knowing that they'd have to clean up the excrement later.
Aristophanes clicked his tongue in irritation as he watched this happen. "Bloody gulls…"
Gwen gave a grunt of agreement, lowering herself down from the railing.
The Viridian Wind dropped anchor in the middle of the cove. Gwen and Aristophanes were then met by the ship's captain, who prepared a skiff for their departure. After bidding the captain farewell, Aristophanes climbed into the skiff with Gwen, lowered them down the side of the ship into the water, and cast off.
The trip to the shore took about half an hour. Gwen was nearly lulled to sleep at one point by the gentle, rhythmic rocking of the tiny boat as it bobbed through the waves. But any traces of sleepiness lurking about in her body were dispelled by the time they reached the harbor of the Metropolis. This was due mostly to the troupe of twenty or so armed guards who had assembled on the dock to greet them.
"You stink of corsair shite!" the guard captain hollered down to the skiff as Aristophanes tied off the mooring lines, going about his work slowly and calmly, paying the armed guards no heed. "State your business in the Metropolis, One-Eye!"
"You obviously have no idea who I am." Aristophanes finished his work, straightening up and stepping out onto the dock. The one-eyed turtle-consort leaned down and extended a hand to Gwen, helping her out of the skiff before turning back to address the guards. "That is a forgivable offense - I can hardly fault you for lacking telepathy. Not asking for my name, however, was very rude of you. One thing you can do to return yourself fully into my good graces is to run along and tell the Assembly that I wish to speak with them. I would very much appreciate that."
"Oh you would, would you?" The guard captain gave a snort of amusement. "Get off my dock, sea-dog, before I have my lads throw you back to the ocean."
Aristophanes dropped a hand to his pistol, drumming a finger on weapon's wooden handle. "I should warn you, my trigger finger grows twitchy when my patience is tested. Tell the Assembly that the first mate of the Viridian Wind requests an audience. And make sure the Prefect hears it."
"Um...could you not threaten the large group of turtles with swords? Not helping," Gwen whispered to the one-eyed consort, quietly enough for the guards to not hear. Her own fingers were twitching as she fought the urge to retrieve her Walther handgun from her strife specibus.
"Hush, Witch," Aristophanes murmured right back, maintaining eye contact with the guard captain.
Many of the assembled guards murmured amongst themselves, discord spreading through their ranks. The name 'Viridian Wind' had struck a chord with them. Gwen recalled Aristophanes explaining to her, several days ago, that the Viridian Wind was one of the more infamous vessels of the corsair fleet. He did not appear to have been lying, judging by the guards' reaction.
The guard captain's scaly cheeks blossomed emerald-green in anger. He did not like having his men spooked by a lone opponent. "I don't give a gull's shite what ship you hail from! Get off my dock and leave this harbor at once! I won't warn you again!"
"Then tell the Assembly that the Witch of Light requests audience with them!"
"That's it, you've done it…" the guard captain was already screaming before Aristophanes's last declaration rang in his ears. His voice faltered. "...come again?"
"Thought that might grab your attention," Aristophanes muttered. He stepped aside, gesturing with both hands to Gwen, as if he were showcasing her. Which he was, in a way. "You heard me correctly! This creature is the Witch of Light, the second coming of the Ancient One! And she would very much like to speak to the Assembly." When the guard captain still seemed unsure, Aristophanes pressed further. "Think on this, boys. When the Assembly finds out that the Witch of Light stood upon the docks of the Metropolis - and they will find out - you lot are the ones who will take the blame for barring her entry!"
"How can I be sure she is really the Witch?" the guard captain asked. Gwen hid a smile - the guard captain was actually entertaining the notion that she was a figure of legend in the consorts' mythology. He was no longer telling them to leave. Aristophanes had already won.
"That is for the Assembly to decide," the first mate of the Viridian Wind replied.
The guard captain hesitated for another few moments, but then ordered his men to relax once a decision had been made. "It'll be your death if you are lying, sea-dog."
"My death, not yours."
The guard captain blinked once. "Fair enough. Accompany us, then."
Turtle-consorts started coming out of the woodworks as Gwen and Aristophanes were led through the city, heading towards the inner districts. People watched from upper-floor windows, members of the gentry peeked out from the insides of carriages, beggars blinked and murmured amongst themselves and their fellows in the alleyways.
Already, Gwen's presence had an effect.
Aristophanes said nothing during the walk through the harbor district of the Metropolis, leaving Gwen to her own thoughts. Curiously enough, her thoughts did not wander in the directions they usually wandered. There were no surges of foreign knowledge sweeping into her mind, no questioning commentary, no more analyses…
One of the giant floating prism-rocks drifted across Skaia's position in the sky, causing the daylight to refract. The Metropolis was bathed in a brilliant haze of rainbow. The green waters of the harbor seemed to pop even more. The gulls' frantic aerial circles grew lazy and relaxed.
Gwen inhaled through her nose, found - much to her surprise - that she could smell rain. She could hear it, too, ever so slightly...a noise in the back of her mind. Without trying too hard, Gwen found herself visualizing the Ruins, out in the middle of the lake near Cruz's house. She was with her friends, again…
How very much she missed her friends, Gwen realized. Going out to the mall with Anna, rolling her eyes as her usually-inebriated friend flirted with all the good-looking guys who worked in the food court. Anna would always get free lattes from the Starbucks. Or breaking into the practice rooms at school with Tami Abramov and playing impromptu Mozart duets on the orchestra instruments - they were always kept locked away, the strings instruments, but Tami had a way with politely asking locks to open when they did not want to. She missed Cruz, his goofy smiles, and his laugh, which could easily be picked out in an entire room full of laughing people.
Gwen did not know Cass or Adam very well, but she'd joined in on her friends' betting pool on how long it would take Adam to ask his longtime crush out on a date. She knew Theo had hijacked Adam's phone and set the date up without his knowledge...but what had come of it? Anna had told Gwen that she was going to try and get Adam to convince Cass to skip class and go out to lunch...but had he succeeded? Had they actually gone out? Would Gwen ever find out?
And Gino… Gwen's spine tingled as Gino Caiazzo entered into her imagination, his yellow eyes that he tried so hard to hide from the world, and his-
"Something wrong, Gwen?"
Gwen blinked once, realized that her face was wet. She had been crying quietly, and Aristophanes had noticed. The older, one-eyed turtle-consort was looking at her, concern etched across his face. "Sorry, um…" Gwen wiped the tears from her face, regaining her composure. "Yeah, everything's fine."
"It is common for the emotions to be stirred and tugged during a Total Refraction," Aristophanes explained to Gwen, gesturing with his head to the sky, specifically to the colossal chunk of prism that was passing in front of Skaia. "Tell me, if you do not mind sharing...where did your mind just go?"
Gwen looked surprised at the turtle-consort's question. "What does it matter to you?"
"You could say I am a 'sap' for the softer aspects of life. Life spent constantly on the sea is what I chose, but there are times when it grows difficult."
"Well…" Gwen did not see much harm in sharing with Aristophanes what she'd experienced, though she would much rather have done it without having a whole troop of guards so closeby. So she did not go into too much detail, but shared what she was comfortable sharing.
Aristophanes could tell she was holding back, but it did not matter to him. He was grateful, nonetheless. "Adam, Cass, Gino...who are they? Friends of yours? From your own home?"
"Sort of...well…" Gwen swallowed painfully. "Yes, they're my friends. All I've got left, really. Everyone else from back home is…"
"I understand." Aristophanes nodded, knowing when to ease off. "I apologize if pain was caused from giving voice to these memories, but in my experience I find that 'silence' honors nothing. Your friends...they are the other seven Heroes, I assume?"
"Yeah."
"I would very much like to hear more about them, sometime when you are in a divulgatory mood," Aristophanes said. "And about you, as well. All the legends surrounding the Witch of Light are very fascinating...but they do not, for example, tell me what the Witch's favorite color is. There is much that can only be gleaned through good conversation."
The Assembly chambers were located in a building in the center of the city. The building was actually rather small - very geometric architecture, lots of triangles and columns. It looked like a miniature Parthenon. At least, that's what Gwen was reminded of. She felt like voicing this opinion, but ultimately decided not to bother.
None of the turtle-consorts would know what the Parthenon was. Gwen was the only one on the planet who knew what the Parthenon was. Now, there was a lonely thought.
It took nearly ten minutes for the guard captain to re-emerge from the chambers, but when he did, he signalled for Aristophanes and Gwen to enter. "Good fortune, sea-dog," he leered at the one-eyed consort. "You'll need it."
"It never left me, slave," Aristophanes glibly replied. And with that, he and Gwen ducked inside before they could catch the guard captain's explosive reaction. They were intercepted by four more guards who wore a different uniform and had their shells painted with a different pattern from the members of the Guard from the docks. These guards said nothing, merely accompanied Aristophanes as he led the way down the entrance corridor straight to the opposite doorway.
Through the doorway, there was a garden - one of the most beautiful Gwen had ever seen. There were flowers and plants of all different colors, trees bearing fruit that smelled even better than peaches, Gwen's favorite. The procession walked through the garden and into another corridor, at the end of which lay the Assembly's central chambers.
Gwen was sensing an overall theme of centrism going on, here. How very like light, it all seemed - the most important part of something being located directly in the center, its influence radiating outward like a sun. Everything in the Metropolis seemed to follow this order. Gwen was starting to see how tempting the freedom offered by the ocean would be to those consorts who'd chosen the life of the corsair.
The main chamber was actually nothing too special. It contained muraled walls depicting important events in the history of these turtle-consorts - or so Gwen assumed. There was a mural showing a whole bunch of consorts raising a crude, much older version of what appeared to be this very building. There was another showing a handful of naval vessels holding a staunch defensive line at the mouth of the harbor against a much larger force of marauder ships.
But there were two murals that caught Gwen's attention the most. One was a depiction of a corsair ship arriving in the Metropolis - a one-eyed corsair bearing a human infant in his arms while all the other consorts in the mural bowed. And the other showed presumably that same human - a boy, now in his adolescence, strikingly familiar to Gwen - balancing on the foremast of a flying ship, searing white light shining from his fists even while the sky all around him grew dark and fiery.
"That one is my favorite, as well," Aristophanes whispered over to Gwen, noticing her looking at that last mural. "The boy is the Ancient One, the Noble of Light, who could be said to have been your predecessor. He is leading the old fleet against the darkness - this was called the Cataclysm. But it is a story for another time."
In the middle of the chamber was a simple, teardrop-shaped table. Seated around this table were thirteen older turtle-consorts, all of whom bore varying reactions to a corsair striding into their chambers, ranging from discontent to blatant outrage. The consort sitting at the 'tip' of the teardrop seemed to be the one in charge of the proceedings - he had fading green skin that had likely once been a vibrant emerald in his youth, a shiny burnt-orange shell that seemed to be polished to the point of appearing like lacquer, and neutral stormy-gray eyes.
"You have courage, little brother, showing your face in this city after the way you left," the head turtle-consort declared, his gaze boring straight into Aristophanes. "Though to march right into our very chambers…? Such could be construed more as an act of lunacy, rather than courage. Tell me...how do you intend on leaving this place with your head still on your shoulders?"
Gwen's stomach sank an inch or two - she'd been hoping for a greeting that was significantly less frosty. Then the significance of what the head consort had just said sank in. Her forehead creasing in a sudden frown, Gwen glanced sharply over to Aristophanes. "Did he just call you…?"
"Yes, Gwen. I would like to introduce you to Alexander, my older brother." Aristophanes gestured to the consort at the opposite end of the table, ignoring the older consort's question. "Alexander...this is the Witch of Light."
"You will refer to me as 'Prefect', little brother," the head consort, Alexander, commanded. "You gave up the right to use my birth name when you abandoned us in favor of those knowledge-stealers."
Aristophanes gave a quiet sigh, too quiet to be heard. "As you wish, Prefect. Though, much as I would love to dig up the past and have a rousing back-and-forth with you, like the old days, this is not why I have come. As I said, I would like to introduce the Witch of Light."
"So you have claimed."
"I sensed the Truth about her when we first met," Aristophanes argued. "She learned her true nature from a Sprite, just like the Ancient One. Light never lies, and she shines with it..."
Gwen started tuning the arguing brothers out. She'd been expecting this moment for a long time, actually, a moment where she would have to provide some form of proof that she was a Hero. But how to prove an intangible? Well, there was one tool Gwen had at her disposal...and so, while Aristophanes and Alexander quarreled, Gwen allowed her thoughts to wander.
Almost immediately, the knowledge began to flow.
The Assembly. Comprising of thirteen members. Twelve representatives from the six different city-states of the consorts of the Land of Shores and Prisms - two representatives from each. The thirteenth member serves as the Prefect, who holds executive power, rather than legislative. The Prefect is chosen by election from the city-states themselves, leading to many disputes and conflicts in the past involving various city-states forming tenuous alliances in order to push forward a candidate of their own choosing-
Gwen blinked once, trying to shift her focus from the inner workings of the turtle-consort government. It was all very interesting to her...but not exactly helpful, at the moment. Her ADHD served only to make things for difficult. She kept the Assembly in her thoughts, but now tried a different approach.
The Assembly. Comprising of twelve state representatives, united by the Prefect. The current Prefect of the Land of Shores and Prisms: Alexander of Kapri. Current Representatives from Cavens: Telemechon of-
Gwen blinked again. God, she wished she had her Vyvanse…this wasn't working. But then an image popped into her mind...the mural, the one with the Ancient One on the ship...
The Noble of Light. Notable in the mythologies of the turtle-consorts of the Land of Shores and Prisms. Participated in the War of the Nobles, which was prematurely ended by what consorts refer to as the 'Cataclysm'. Also notable for the creation of 'Library of All' for eventual use by future generations. Established the first Assembly and brought the turtle-consort city-states into a mutual confederation. Left the key to the location of the Library in the care of the Assembly, though did not grant them access to it. Access to the Library is meant not for the consorts, but for the Witch of Light and any other Hero who might-
Bingo.
Gwen was still a little bit surprised. She had not been expecting that to work. Knowledge was much more accessible and focused when in the presence of others, it seemed...but Gwen knew she had no time to examine this any deeper, not right now.
"Okay, turtle-boys, hold the fuck up! What's the Library of All?" Gwen interrupted, cutting both brothers off mid-argument. Silence fell over the room. Even Aristophanes gave a start of surprise.
Alexander finally cleared his throat uncomfortably and spoke. "You unearth the Assembly's sensitive secrets, little brother, and immediately you begin singing them to the winds for all to hear?" the Prefect accused Aristophanes.
"Not that secret, no." Aristophanes shook his head.
"Okay, so obviously it's super-important, this Library." Gwen quickly seized back control of the conversation. "Did you guys know that it was meant for me, not you? Huh? Was that a secret, too-"
"Silence, girl," Aristophanes growled in warning. But it was too late.
"Guards!" Alexander clamored, rising abruptly from his chair. Immediately, no less than a dozen heavily-armed soldiers poured into the chamber from adjacent doorways, spears and pistols at the ready. Aristophanes's hands twitched, aching to draw his weapons, but even he knew that he would not stand a chance against such odds. "Arrest the two outsiders, lock them in the dungeons below."
"You would imprison a Hero of Legend, brother?" Surprise was evident in Aristophanes's voice - Gwen did not think he had actually expected this to happen. "Have you taken leave of your senses? When word of this gets out-"
"Still your fucking tongue, little brother, for once in your wretched life!" Alexander snapped, cutting Aristophanes off mid-sentence. "There are other secrets, ones that even you, in your self-proclaimed infinite wisdom, do not know. Secrets that would ruin all of us if ever they were to be made known to the public. Guards, away with them!"
Gwen's first impulse was to retrieve her Walther from her strife specibus, but Aristophanes somehow knew what she was about to do before she could actually do it. He shook his head sharply, grasping Gwen's wrist. "No, Gwen. You will not win your consorts over by blowing holes in their heads. We will play the waiting game, instead."
Gwen had no response, did not even know what to think as her arms were pulled behind her, irons clapped onto her wrists. Well, no, that actually was not entirely true - she was thinking something.
I'm being arrested by turtles, the voice in Gwen's head was saying, scarcely able to believe the story being relayed to it by her eyes and ears. I am being arrested...by fucking turtles. Seriously, what the fuck? What kind of bullshit quest is this?
"Shit." Cruz could only swear as he watched his throat begin to bleed in the mirror. The pain was already beginning to blossom around his Adam's apple, a tiny point of white-hot searing fire that was beginning to consume his neck.
Cruz only had fuzzy, fleeting memories of how he'd woken up here in his dream room on Prospit's moon...but he remembered enough to know that he was in big trouble. If he remembered correctly…
But why was he feeling the same pain here? Why was his dream self suffering from the same wound his waking self had just sustained? Cruz did not know. All he knew was that this was how it worked - waking self gets stabbed, waking self dies, dream self wakes up...and eventually dream self dies from the same wound. Unless…
Cruz staggered over to the nearest window sill, gasping for breath as the pain in his neck grew worse. More blood was beginning to drip.
His corpse...yes, his corpse - there was no way he could have survived taking that knife to the throat - would need to be kissed by another Hero in order for his dream self to survive. In order for him to survive. Cruz realized that he was, in a way, no longer his dream self. His dream self had just become his only remaining body. And if he did not act fast…
Cruz's thoughts were racing. How could someone get to his body in time?
Think, man, think...c'mon… Okay, if Adam could pass through his second gate, he would end up getting transported to LOLAS. Adam could find Cruz's body and… No, stupid, stupid, no, that won't work!Adam was too far away from his house to be of any help - apparently he was traveling into a desert, or some shit, trying to unite his consorts against his Denizen...no help there.
If only he had more time…
Time.
Mierda, that's it! That last thought sent an electric jolt through Cruz's body as he realized what his last hope was. Or, rather, as he realized who his last hope was. Thank god she was a Prospit dreamer…Cruz could only hope she was in her tower, today. She disappeared so often, there was no way of telling where she went all the time, no way of contacting her...
Cruz wasted no time in leaping out his window, shooting straight forward through the sky. Good thing he'd been flying around Prospit since he was tiny - he never would've made it, otherwise.
Flying grew more and more difficult. The pain in Cruz's throat was agony, at this point. His eyes teared up, blurring his vision, but he forced himself to remain on a straight trajectory. It got to the point where he could barely even see where he was going - he was flying solely on his instinctual memory of which direction his destination lay in.
The blood was flowing freely, now. Cruz had to hold a hand to his throat to keep himself from bleeding out. It helped a little, but not much. He was sobbing from the pain by the time he reached Anna's dream tower, delirious…
Because of his blurred vision, Cruz actually missed Anna's window. He struck the side of the window, sending stars shooting through his vision. He barely felt the impact - the agony piercing through his throat was blinding out everything else. He was not sure which was worse - having a knife impale his throat, or feeling the wound be created unnaturally slowly, in excruciating detail.
He decided that the latter was much, much worse.
Fortunately, Cruz's impact sent him spinning straight into Anna's dream bedroom, where he landed in a heap on the carpet.
Anna was sitting at her desk when Cruz came barreling in. She barely had time to yelp in surprise, rescuing her bottle of Malibu Black from her bed before Cruz knocked into it. "Cruz! What the hell, you're bleeding all over my floor!"
Cruz opened his mouth to speak, but all that came out was more blood and unintelligible gurgling noises.
Anna held up a hand, shushing him, taking a quick swig of rum before saying, "Stop it, just stop. You're making an even bigger mess. What the hell happened to you? Wait, actually, no...no, don't answer that. You'll just get more blood on my floor... That is a lot of blood… Okay, you're probs here to ask me to go back in time and revive you? You realize I have to kiss your dead fucking body to do that? Isn't that just fucked? I expect you to smoke me up after this."
Anna stepped over Cruz's thrashing form, opening her desk drawer and taking out her treasured pink journal. She opened the final page, where a barely legible 'things to do' list had been scrawled.
Underneath 'START UPRISING WITH ADAMS SNAKE BUDDIEEEZ IN THE PAST', Anna wrote, 'MAKE OUT WIT CRUZS DEAD BOD EWWW'.
The relief was immediate. Cruz's throat stopped bleeding, and the pain subsided. He blinked several times, wiping the tears from his eyes, sitting upright, getting his bearings. "Ohh, fucking god, thank you Jesus sweet fucking fuck."
Anna closed her journal, putting it back in the drawer. "Saw I needed to be in my tower today, so here I come...an' then...an' then I jus' get a faceful of Cruz witha bleedin' neck. I've been better."
"Yeah, sorry 'bout that," Cruz apologized, getting back to his feet. "You were kinda my last hope, here… Sorry 'bout your carpet, didn't mean to bleed all over it."
"Don't worry about it."
"How did you manage that without even doing anything?" asked Cruz. "Did you time travel back, and I just didn't even notice?"
"Nah," Anna replied. "I mean, yeah, clearly I did travel back, but from our perspective right now, I haven't yet." She rapped a knuckle against the drawer she kept her journal in. "If I just write down everything I need to travel back for, I can trust a future version of myself to take care of it later, which means from our perspective it's already happened. It's a stable time loop. Get it?"
"Uh..." Cruz eyes had glazed over. "Sort of? I think?"
"Being a time traveler sucks. That's all you need to know," said Anna. "There's a silver lining, though-"
"Ooh, yeah, I fuckin' love silver linings."
Anna continued to speak through the interruption. "-and it's that procrastination becomes deliciously moot when time is no longer linear."
"Uh...cool…"
"Still gives me a fucking headache, though. You want a drink?"
Cruz blinked once. "I just got stabbed in the fuckin' throat. Fuck yes, I want a drink. And keep 'em coming."