Whew, took me a lot longer to finally finish this up. I'm very sorry, but it isn't my primary project right now. The pace should pick up when I get further into it, but we can probably still expect bigger pauses between chapters than with FTaBV.
Angelic:
Yep, you caught on to what he really meant. And seventeen year old Chase can be a lot more hot headed and dumber than the twenty three year old version you're used to. He's had to learn some hard lessons.
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CHAPTER 002: SALAMANDERS AND DEALS
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The world had begun to spin so abruptly that Chase had to fight the need to be sick. His deathgrip around the redhead's middle was no longer out of aggression but the instinctive reflex to cling to something for dear life. Consequently, when everything stopped just as abruptly, the redhead's legs buckled at the imbalance of weight so that they both toppled over.
"What, by Urd's weave, do you think you are doing?" he snapped, prying Chase's arm off and leaving him collapsed on the ground. While the weird stranger grumbled unintelligibly over straightening his clothes and glasses, Chase sat up, hands spread on the ground behind him to keep from just falling back and busting his head open on the floor.
He inspected the room they were in with a growing sense of bewilderment. It looked like it could have been an unused set for the Lord of the Rings films. The walls, floor, and high ceiling were made of stone, smooth but for the fantastic sculptures of people and creatures that seemed ready to pop out and walk right across the room (or fly, he added, noting some dragons and gargoyles) and maybe shake his hand. Stone pillars carved in the likeness of trees reached up to the ceiling, their branches mingling to create the impression that the ceiling was entirely a canopy of stone leaves.
And the smell of damp earth had gotten noticeably stronger, now blending pleasantly with the aromas of roasted meat, fresh bread, sweet smelling fruit and the tang of citrus, and something smoky underneath the other mouthwatering smells. Looking around, he realized most of the smells came from the remains of what looked like a feast, arranged on tables lining the edges of the massive room.
He craned his head back again, hands bracing his weight, staring in amazement at the ceiling again. He could almost swear he saw movement from wind or small animals clamoring through the branches. Woah, that must have cost a fortune...
Waitaminute, he realized, this isn't the time to be impressed! How the hell did I even get here? Did that guy drug me or something?
He scrambled, about to try and get up and demand some answers. But both actions were forgotten, leaving him on hands and knees with his mouth agape as right then a pair of butterfly-like wings appeared out of nowhere on the whackjob's back.
Drugs. Definitely must've been drugged, Chase decided as he stared at the red darkening to blue edged wings. They were opening and closing slowly, the redhead eying them critically over his shoulder.
"Seems they're unharmed," he sighed, apparently satisfied they were functioning correctly. He looked down and took a pensive stance while considering Chase, still kneeling on the floor. "Now what shall I do with you?"
"Screw that," Chase tried to stand again and then changed his mind when he realized his legs still felt wobbly. "What the hell did you do to me?"
"Do to you?" the weirdo actually sounded confused.
"Don't play dumb," Chase growled, "You knocked me out with something! How else could I not remember coming here? And if those-" he jabbed a finger at the wings, which fluttered a bit and almost made him lose his train of thought with another wave of awed disbelief, "Those better be a drug induced hallucination if they're not some sort of stage prop, cuz I don't want to have to get carted off to the looney bin!"
The redhead stared at him, at a loss for words after Chase's outburst. Then his shoulders began shaking as he hunched over slightly, one hand raised to cover his mouth. Even the hallucination wings were quivering. It took Chase a moment but he realized that the weirdo was laughing at him!
Combined outrage and humiliation was sufficient impetus for Chase to force his feet under him and stand upright. Though he still needed to borrow some support from one of the tree-pillars, leaning against the trunk next to an odd carving of a newt or something caught in mid crawl. Still, the strength was already returning to his legs. Good, he thought, better to be able to run or fight if I need to. "Har har, drugging and kidnapping someone is hilarious. Where are we?"
The man regained his composure with a nearly visible exertion of will, though a smirk still quirked the corners of his mouth. "Forgive me, it had slipped my mind for the moment that rare is the human these days who would recognize their predicament for what it is. This," he spread his arms in an expansive gesture, "is one of the halls Underhill."
"We're underground?" Chase looked around again, thinking that perhaps the stone walls, ceiling, and floor might actually be a man made underground cavern. Or a naturally formed one that had been further shaped by men. Just looking at the bill for that would probably give most people a heart attack.
"Underhill," the man corrected, "There is a distinction between the two."
"What? That we're underground under a hill?" There was a flicker at the corner of the man's mouth and a quiver to the wings, that Chase reminded himself weren't really there, that suggested that he wanted to laugh again.
"No," the redhead said instead, "'Underhill' is the name for one of the domains of the Fae."
"The what?"
That was apparently too much to be (unintentionally) funny anymore. The man sighed, removing his glasses to massage his forehead. "Honestly, are your eyes mere decorations? And your skull stuffed with air?" Putting his glasses back in place, he flung his arms wide again but more like 'can't you see these big honking wings I've got here?' "Fairies, child! Fairies, elves, goblins, selkies, powries, salamanders, brownies-" Chase lost track of the list being rattled off.
Crap, Chase tried to unobtrusively look for an exit, I've been drugged and kidnapped by a crazy man.
Who apparently realized that Chase wasn't following what was being said anymore. He shook his head and sighed, "Disappointing, but unimportant." And then he turned away, dismissing Chase as he grew absorbed in his own thoughts. Which was probably a good thing, Chase reasoned, but it still ticked him off to just be ignored like that.
Chase crept backwards while keeping a wary eye on the absently pacing redhead. If he could just reach one of the walls and follow it to find a door to sneak out of...
"Don't be on your way just yet, Master Chase Brown," the redhead spoke up suddenly without ever having looked his way. "You may have your uses yet."
"Uses?" Chase had to ask, hand gripping the strap of his backpack a bit tighter. If he needed to, he could probably hit the weirdo in the head and run for it.
The man waved a hand as if flicking something bothersome away. "You needn't worry about it, your sister and I should be able to settle matters between us. This mishap may even be good fortune in disguise..." he mused, "Miss Hayley will be more amenable to cooperate if it ensures your safe return."
Chase suddenly felt ill. "You're ransoming me?"
"Yes, it is a bit unorthodox to make such an approach," the man said, having somehow slightly misinterpreted Chase's incredulous reaction. He even seemed a bit defensive, crossing his arms in front and rocking back slightly on his heels. "Normally we would keep you until a challenger came and bargained your release. But in this case we'll have to bend traditions in the name of necessity." He sighed, not pleased with...whatever he'd been saying.
"I don't get what you're talking about," Chase tried to sound as threatening as he could, ignoring Hayley's voice in his head saying she'd seen more intimidating chihuahuas, "but leave my sister out of it!"
It was the wrong thing to say. One second the redhead was frowning at him while removing his own glasses (making them disappear with barely a twitch of the wrist, was a sleight of hand trick supposed to impress him?), the next he had grabbed Chase by the collar and hauled him clear off the ground.
Chase grabbed at the slender arm holding him up with both hands, trying to keep himself from choking. No matter how he clawed he couldn't loosen the fingers or force the arm to bend. The hell? His arm is like a tree branch! To top it off, the man was looking up into Chase's face as calmly as if they were sitting at a table playing a friendly game of cards. There wasn't even a vein standing out to betray any exertion.
The man smiled slowly, patronizingly. "Does it matter? If you can't comprehend what I am telling you now, or what I am, then our needs and reasons will be far beyond your level." He lowered Chase again until his sandals touched the stone floor. Chase staggered back out of his reach the second the grasp on his collar loosened. Not that that would make a difference, he was starting to realize, since the man could close the gap in a second at any time.
"Your sister, on the other hand," the man continued, "has a good deal of untapped talent just waiting for a bit of informed instruction so that it may be applied to the proper outlets." A red eyebrow quirked upward. "Something more productive than ouija boards and 'online' recipes for love potions."
"Sounds like stuff she'd be up to," Chase couldn't help grumbling. He'd once been roped into a seance with her. Of course nothing actually happened. 'Online love potions'...? This guy, could he be some creeper from the internet trying to stalk Hayley? Though this would be a pretty elaborate set up for that...
To play along he asked, "I don't see how that means you should be the one to, ah, instruct her." First thing he'd do once he got away would be to find a phone and call the police. But where was the door out of this Underhill place?
The redhead was shaking his head 'no' slowly, "My boy, I'm not the one who will be the teacher. My role is merely to pick her up. She'll be taught to use her dormant abilities responsibly, and then we'll have her help us."
"'Help' you? With what?"
"No reason you would need to know." The man rubbed his chin thoughtfully as something seemed to occur to him. "Ah, but humans usually prefer big sendoffs when family is leaving the home permanently. I suppose I should allow a final goodbye..."
A chill settled over Chase as the conviction that he was about to lose his little sister for good started creeping over him. A final goodbye? He's making it sound like some army recruiter about to take her away overseas. "What do you really want her for?"
"Hmm?" It seemed like the winged man had nearly forgotten Chase was there again.
"There's no way you expect me to believe the crap about 'hidden potential' and teaching," he pressed on angrily, "What do you really want Hayley for?"
"Not 'crap'," the man objected testily, "We've lost something invaluable to us, and with the proper training she can find it again. Why am I still bothering with this?" he asked himself aloud with an eyeroll of self disgust. "If nothing else it's a waste of my time."
Taking a few steps of his own back while eying Chase watchfully, the man raised his hand in preparation to snap his fingers again. Like back in the woods, when I tackled him and we ended up here. While still more than reluctant to acknowledge that the man could be a-a fairy or whatever, Chase couldn't ignore that he might be about to lose any chance of protecting his sister from the man.
"Wait!" he blurted in desperation, "I'll take her place!"
The man's hand lowered slightly as his expression registered surprise directed at Chase. "Truly?" he asked. "You truly want to replace her, when you clearly believe I'm some nefarious villain with no good intentions?"
"W-well," his stomach made an uncomfortable flip flop, but he resolved not to back down, "I can't just stand by and do nothing!"
The man stared at him intensely, but Chase refused to look away from the gray eyes studying him. Even when he realized neither of them had blinked for what felt like a painful hour when it could only have been minutes.
A flicker of the storm gray eyes was the only warning Chase had before he felt something crawling onto his shoulder. Shocked, he turned his head and discovered the little statue of a newt (or something) that had been clinging to the tree-pillar was perched on his shoulder, tail curling itself behind his neck.
The stone creature's mouth opened and it spoke in a small, thin voice, "Here now, Alastor, I'm thinking your obliged to fulfill the lad's request. Part of the rules and all."
"Sala," the man nodded in greeting, "I thought you were sleeping."
"Just resting a bit," the creature bobbed its flatish head, "Can't get any good sleep in this stuffy old place, none at all! Which is why, good friend Alastor," it made a strange hiccuping noise, maybe its own version of laughter, "I saw what happened. He caught you!"
Chase had stayed frozen in place during the entire exchange. What is this thing? How can it be alive, much less talking? He could even feel its toes gripping him through his t-shirt!
"'Caught?' Whatever do you mean 'caught?'"
"Don't be foolish, I know you too well for you to use that roguish charm of yours, that I do. The lad caught you by surprise or else you'd never have brought him here."
"Nonsense, him having gained the upper hand long enough to get carried along does not qualify."
"Sour grapes, Alastor! I'd say it's good enough, I would!"
"What," Chase interrupted, feeling more confused than ever, "in hell are you talking about?" The arguing man and...newt stopped to look at him, as if they'd again forgotten that he was there. Which was getting really annoying since they were talking about him. "Never mind, I don't give a damn anyway. I just want you," he pointed at the man and had to fight the urge to jump when he felt the newt shift around to stay balanced on his shoulder, "to leave my sister alone!"
"Single minded, now, aren't you lad?" the newt hiccuped in his ear. Chase couldn't help grimacing.
The man began to laugh, head thrown back and wings making jerking motions like abortive attempts to fly. "Oh, what an interesting one you are!" he managed to get out. "When did you last meet such a self sacrificing human, Sala?"
"Self sacrificing? Been ages," the newt said and Chase dared to peek at it when he felt it moving on his shoulder again. All he saw was its tail, and then he felt its slimy feet (how could a stone feel slimy?) on his neck. A shiver ran down his spine as it climbed on top of his head. "They're usually much quicker to sacrifice each other." It stopped moving, much to his relief.
Composed again, the man raked the fingers of one hand through his red hair while smiling in defeat. "It does not change the fact that his sister would be of more value to us, but I'll at least inform Bianca of his request. That, I'm sure, should satisfy the dubious claim you've raised."
"I'd say that would be enough," the newt agreed. "I'll watch the lad while you go have a nice chat with her."
"Much obliged," the man's attention shifted down from the living statue on Chase's head back to Chase. "A word of advice. If you're interested in ever being able to leave Underhill again, don't sample the food." And with that odd little parting shot, the man spun away and started to walk off. Er, fly off. His feet aren't touching the ground. If that wasn't real, then they did a good job hiding the wires.
"Don't forget to wear your glasses!" the newt's thin voice shrilled out, making him wince. "No need to worry, lad, none at all," the newt on his head was saying more softly. "Bianca's an odd sort, she's bound to acknowledge you. Airheaded fairy just loves your type, she does!" It hiccuped in laughter again. "I'm Sala, by the by," it said, apparently trying to be friendly. "And that rogue of a fairy goes by the name Alastor."
"Uh, Chase. Pleased to meet you." I'd be more pleased if you weren't sitting on my head. Very slowly, so as not to upset the newt, he bent down to pick up his backpack and sling it over one shoulder. Feeling more secure again, Chase started to explore the room he'd been left in. The newt, apparently perfectly happy staying where it was, had launched itself into a cheerful anecdote about how that Bianca woman had some rule where Alastor had to wear a totally unnecessary pair of glasses every time he talked to her.
Despite heading straight for one of the walls and then following it around the room, Chase couldn't find any exits. At first he thought it was just due to the size of the room, and then that the doors might be specially made to blend with the rock and statues for better effect. But a closer search turned up nothing suspiciously like a secret door or switch to open one. Well, maybe one of the statues has a clue. But... The newt on his head yawned. I don't want to take the chance that any of them might be "alive" like this guy is.
"What've you been looking for, lad, all this time?" the newt asked suddenly.
"Isn't it obvious?" Chase rubbed his stomach and wondered how long it had been since he last ate. "I'm trying to find the way out." Funny, that food must have been sitting out for hours, but I can still see steam coming off of it. Like it's fresh from the oven.
Sala laughed again, "Way out? There's no way out for you, and you should be glad, you should!"
"Do you think I'm an idiot?" Chase snorted. "What room doesn't have a way in and out? And that Alastor guy isn't here anymore, so he got out somehow." The sight of the food laid out in platters was starting to make his mouth water. Why couldn't he have some? Maybe that redhead was just being an ass. He was probably laughing at Chase wherever he was.
"I said there's no way for you. Alastor would've closed it off so none of the other nasties down here can come along to snap you up!" The newt crawled forward then, small toes gripping the hairs in Chase's bangs as it leaned down to look him in the eyes. Which also made him nearly blind as he tried to focus on the stone critter in his face. "That is, of course, just in case I decide you're too stupid and boring to be worth my time after all. Don't touch the food."
Before Chase could angrily ask 'why not' like he wanted to, there was a brief gust of wind that stirred the air around him and made the hem of his shirt flap a bit. He spun around to see what it was, forgetting for a moment that he couldn't see past Sala anyway, and the edges of his field of view were filled with red and blue.
"Still in one piece, I see," Alastor's smug voice confirmed Chase's hunch that he was back. There was movement in front of him and then Sala let go of his hair. He blinked as his vision refocused, fixing on the newt now sitting in the palm of Alastor's outstretched hand. The man was wearing his glasses again, and they gleamed as he gave Chase a winning smile. "Congratulations! You're working for me now."
"So you'll leave Hayley alone?" Chase asked warily.
"If that is your condition, then yes," the redhead's face betrayed no ill will at having lost. He seemed more amused than anything else. Sala crawled up his arm to his shoulder, then head first down his back and leg until it had reached the floor. Alastor crossed his arms and tilted his head in a way that seemed to be daring Chase to refuse after all. "So? Giving you the training we'd planned for Miss Hayley would be worthless as you'd gain nothing from it, but why don't we have you look the old fashioned way?"
"A quest! A quest!" Sala sang out, and Chase spied him making his way up another pillar. A hand landed on Chase's shoulder. He just managed to hear, "Good luck living past your first day, Chase lad!" before the sound of fingers snapping against each other filled the air and the world spun away from him again.
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Alastor sighed as he sat down heavily on a rock. With less than a thought his wings became invisible and insubstantial for both convenience and prudence's sake. Besides, the boy might overreact if he they were the first things he saw when he woke up again.
Once again he studied the boy where he leaned unconscious against yet another stone. Baggy black tunic, no, t-shirts was what humans called them now. It was embellished with a red silhouette that was presumably meant to be taken as a cobra wrapped around a skull. And the half length trousers, shorts if he remembered right, were hemmed by those metallic devices that served as more effective substitutes for buttons. Not that he'd ever care to use them in his own attire. On his feet the boy only wore sandals, made of more synthetic material than the hemp or leather Alastor would have normally imagined. Times have changed. Some of us may try to keep abreast with the human situation, and may even keep relatively up to date in modern culture, but the small things still carry surprising weight.
Yet, he smiled, change the clothes and the boy could have come from any other period of time. Sandy brown hair that looked like it had been growing out for a few months, almost long enough to be tied back. Gangling limbs not yet done growing, with less muscle than the typical country youth of the past but also lacking most of the added flab that he'd heard a large percentage of the "American" population had been putting on. Well, I suppose he's still better fed than most children were when I last left Underhill. Lighter skin, too. But he's had a soft life so far.
That would definitely be changing now that the boy had to find a way to live on Gaia.
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Sala probably knew that Al would let me have my way. I mean, he knew that Sybelle Bianca would give the green light, so Al must've known too, right? If he went to get the green light from her, he must've already decided to make good on the deal. Course, the jerks also knew that there was no way I would've been prepared for what I was getting myself into.
I don't remember exactly who told me or when, but I eventually learned some things about that day. Sala wasn't a newt exactly, but a Salamander. Capital S. Meaning if he felt like it he could have made me spontaneously combust in a pillar of flame. I will never let that amphibian sit on my head again.
And I found out that there actually is something about fairy food, and that Al wasn't just trying to be a dick by not letting me eat. Apparently if you eat or drink anything Underhill that you didn't bring yourself you'll never be able to leave again. I'm lucky they stopped me.
And that makes me wonder sometimes, if, you know, there might be other things Al's done for my sake that I didn't understand at the time.
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Done (Finally). Despite the long time it took me to finish this, I had quite a bit of fun. I had the opportunity to exercise my descriptive skills for the scenery in a way I've realized I don't do much with FTaBV. Result of having an original setting vs. a setting from a game that most of the readers would already be familiar with (more familiar than me, even). And yes, a brief change of points of view near the end. I'll be more flexible with this than in FTaBV.
Next chapter: Chase wakes up and finds out he's in FF7!