So Wyvern is an actual thing. It's a dragon-type thing. I'm pretty sure I knew that Wyvern was a thing when Cece was still on the Daybreak, but I must have forgotten since. The More You Know.
Window to the Past
Chapter 18: At This Moment
Tristan laid on the hospital bed, staring at the ceiling. He dared not rest his eyes; sleep would take him in an instant. The darkness lurking outside the window served as a stark reminder of what could be waiting outside for him to drift off. Sleep was out of the question. So Tristan once again found himself quite bored.
"I seem to be doing this a lot," he said to himself. "Making executive decisions."
Yes, that does prove quite true, Tristan replied back through his thoughts. You diverted the route away from that mountain.
Tristan sighed. "They ended up scaling it anyways. And from the sounds of it..." He looked at the bedside table, which held the journal. "...we almost died."
I wonder what the outcome could have been if they went your way instead?
"I'm not sure; It'd be different, to state the obvious. Better or worse, I'm not sure. But it can't get worse than almost dying."
And now you've decided for the rest of them not to sleep, he said to himself.
"I don't know about this place." Tristan tried to justify his actions. "In my opinion these people are acting way too friendly to someone they just met. Especially the white one."
She gave you a place to stay the same day she...apparently...found you collapsed in front of a well-known dangerous area, he replied. I see your point.
"But she locked the doors from the outside," Tristan recalled. "But then again, she put me in a room with a window. I can't tell what her intent is!"
Tristan's voice decided it was a good idea to change the subject. How do you think the others are taking your executive decisions?
"I don't think they know," Tristan said absently. "I don't think they know it's me, anyway. Except maybe Mia. The way she introduced herself, it makes me feel like she considers the journal as a secondary communication method."
As opposed to being omnipotent, his thoughts finished. Spying on our actions firsthand.
"Why is she so special?" Tristan said bitterly, before catching himself. He smiled weakly. "Listen to me. I'm jealous of myself."
Well, not quite yourself, his thoughts corrected. But closer than it would be if you two were separate people.
"Which makes me wonder about the ethics of this disorder," Tristan sighed. "I really want to know how it works."
Liz seems to be a doctor, his thoughts suggested. Perhaps she could help.
"Perhaps," Tristan agreed. He stole another glance out the window. It was still dark, much to his annoyance. Giving another glance to the journal, Tristan quickly berated himself for being tempted. If he were to switch, there was no telling what the others would do. Considering how tired he felt right now, they'd probably fall asleep on the spot. He couldn't risk it. Tristan turned away from the journal and pulled the covers up over his entire body.
"It's cold in here," Tristan whispered to himself, his words becoming slurred. Realizing this, he shot up to his feet on the bed, and bashed himself on the headboard. Staggering back from the front of the bed, wincing a bit from the numbing pain spreading from the front of his face to the rest of his face.
"Bad idea," he muttered. Still, he recognized grudgingly, I'm awake now.
Tristan sat back down on the bed as a sudden wave of guilt washed over him.
"Do I really have the authority to make these kinds of choices," he asked. This time, though, no natural response came.
What do you think? he asked himself, before frowning. That was manufactured and inorganic. That wasn't him. That was just the part of his brain responsible for conscious thought.
Tristan felt alone.
Hours later...
"Fifteen...sixteen...seventeen...eighteen...nineteen..." Tristan mumbled to himself, sliding under the bed. Finally, he pulled himself out from under the bed and sighed. "Nineteen plus twenty-seven is forty-six. There are forty-six corners in this room," he stated proudly, before realizing what he just did. Then he became mildly depressed. "Well...I guess it's time to count the straight edges-"
He stopped. The journal. He had to. He couldn't ignore it the entire night. It's too late for them to sleep anyway; it's nearly light out. Maybe just a bit of conversation won't hurt.
"Hello, all. In case you're wondering, we're in the clinic of one Ms. Liz (I don't know her last name or if she has one, but I plan to find out). She locked the door from the outside so nothing can come in. I woke up early from my sleep and quickly became bored. So now, I'm writing." Tristan wrote.
"Man, for having a good night's sleep, I feel pretty tired," Mia replied. "By the way, Tristan. You didn't count the corners inside the cabinets. That'll add at least sixteen more corners to the room. You've gotta consider everything when you're doing something like that."
"Wait, the guy was counting corners?" Adrian asked, trying to hold back a laugh. "How bored were you? It sounds desperate."
"May we talk about more important things than how many corners this room has?" Daphne asked the rest of them. "For instance: what are we doing here?"
"Daph, we've been over this," Alice reminded her. "We're going to find out who our family is and whether they're here."
"How are we going to do that, though?" Toby asked. "There are a lot of puffballs here, I think, and any one of them could be family."
"So we should just go out there and talk to everyone we see, then!" Mia suggested.
"Bad idea," Tristan wrote. "Very very bad idea."
"If that's why we're here, though, than why not?" David asked. "How are we gonna find out who our mom and dad are if we don't ask?"
"We might try being a mite more subtle," Daphne said. "I don't think going around grilling people about whether we're their long-lost child is a very smart approach."
"These people aren't the sharpest, Miss Priss, but I'm giving them enough credit that they wouldn't walk up to some random dude and say 'are you my mommy'," Adrian berated.
"Maybe we could ask Ash," Alice proposed. "He seemed to know about the people living in Wyvern."
"Do you just want to see him again?" Mia replied slyly. "And I quote 'And he has the cutest cowboy accent!' Somebody's in loooove!"
"Is an accent really grounds to fall in love with someone? It seems ridiculous," Toby stated.
"Can we get back on track, please?" Tristan asked. "If we're going to prance around town talking to perfect strangers, we need at least some kind of method."
"Hey, an accent is a perfectly legitimate reason to fall in love with someone!" Alice protested. "Half of love is the voice or something like that. But as for a method, I still stand by my point of going to Ash. Either Ash or Liz. But I say Ash because I don't really get the 'social' vibe from Liz."
"Didn't you say he new Vi? Mabye she's here," wrote David.
"I...completely forgot about that," Mia stated. "Although to be fair there was a lot that you wrote in that update and it's hard to keep track of it all. I guess I could've flipped back to it, but the need never really came up until now."
"So we should try to find Vi, then?" Daphne asked for confirmation.
"Her name's Fey," Toby corrected. "She tries to say Fey but her hearing makes it Vi instead."
"Does it even matter? If it looks the same when she reads your lips, why even say anything different?" Adrian pointed out.
"Well, it's light out," Mia observed, looking out the window. "I'm going to go talk to Alice's future husband about Fey."
Mia closed the journal, smirking at her latest little quip. She would never stop bothering Alice about this. The smile disappeared from her face when she remembered the exact words she wrote.
'Alice's future husband'.
I'm Alice, Mia realized. ...Shoot.
Shrugging it off, Mia walked over to the door of the room and opened it. Walking through, she was about to close the door before remembering her bag. Mia rushed back into the room and seized the sack by the neck, slinging it over the side of her body. It didn't really hold, but it felt more natural than simply dragging it on the ground. Once again she opened the door and this time, she exited through it.
A matter of moments later, Mia was shivering from the sudden drop in temperature. She was only on the doorstep and yet she felt colder than she had ever felt before. Mia decided it'd be a good idea to go back inside and warm up so that
click
Whipping around, Mia yanked at the doorknob. Liz had locked it from the outside; Mia couldn't get in. She was trapped outside in the morning chill.
It was at this moment Mia realized she had no idea where Ash lived. It was also at this moment she realized that visiting Fey was near pointless.
It was also also at this moment that Mia received a copious amount of bruises on her forehead from banging her face against the clinic door.
What felt like an eternity later, Liz finally came to the clinic, only to find Mia doing some sort of rigorous exercise to keep from freezing. Mia met her questioning eyes and stopped, panting.
"I...I...forgot...that..." Mia forced out between breaths, "...that...the door...locks...behind you..."
"How long have you been out here?" Liz asked, not sure how to take the spectacle in front of her.
Mia shook her head. "No...idea...Where does-" she paused to cough, then continued. "Where does Ash live?"
"Over there, in the residential area," Liz answered, jerking her head behind her.
"I-I could've guessed...that..." Mia forced out, still tired from her select methods of keeping warm.
"Alright, I'll be more specific," Liz relented. "Conequus Boulevard, house number 782." She turned around and pointed up a street. "Go up that street, and turn left third chance you get. That's Conequus."
"Alright thanks bye!" Mia forced out quickly, dashing off into the morning, eager to get out of the bitter cold.
One...two...three! Mia counted, zipping down the third street. Her eyes leaped from house to house, ignoring every single detail barring the three-digit numbers used to classify each one.
"Seven seven three...seven eight four...seven nine two..." Mia mumbled to herself as she sprinted along the sidewalk. Noticing a bit late she had passed her target number, Mia pivoted on the frozen sidewalk and darted off in the other direction.
Or she would've. If the sidewalk wasn't frozen. And she wasn't in such a rush.
Instead, the ice snatched away the friction she had established with the sidewalk, smashing her head against the cement and sending her pinwheeling down the rough yet icy sidewalk, earning her a sizable number of cuts.
Gingerly pushing himself up, Adrian staggered. His head was swimming and his vision was fuzzy. He quickly noted the slippery ground below him and tried futilely to regain his balance. This resulted in another smaller slip, landing him on his back. Letting out a groan, Adrian lay there for quite a long time, debating whether it was worth it to try getting up again. Feeling the thin layer of ice melt under his body heat, Adrian decided he'd rather not be soaked in literal ice-cold water, and pushed himself to his feet.
Adrian spotted the sack quite a ways away from him. He started walking towards it before getting a jarring reminder of the unstable ground he was on. Flailing his stubs to regain balance proved fruitless as Adrian fell once again to the ground he was becoming a bit too acquainted with.
"You'd think they'd salt this stupid thing," he grumbled, pushing himself up. Adrian (carefully) made his way towards his bag, before spreading the neck and retrieving the journal.
"We're going to Ash's, huh?" Adrain remarked as he read Mia's entry. "That's the guy Alice likes..." A mischievous grin spread across Adrian's face.
This was going to be fun.
It was at this moment Adrian realized he had no idea where Ash lived. It was also at this moment Adrian realized he had a respectable amount of cuts all over his body.
It was also also at this moment a cold morning breeze decided to come along and oxidize the wounds in a particularly stinging way.
Shivering from the combination of the cold and the smarting, Adrian tried to deduce in which direction Ash's house might be. The bag had slid forward down the street, and assuming Mia had slipped while walking in the direction of Ash's house...
Adrian walked further down the street, the bag dragging on the frozen sidewalk behind him. He found it strange that although the cement itself was frozen, no other wintry signs revealed themselves save the frost settled on the grass. Adrian also compared these small, cozy streets to the ones he had seen in Wayford; they had been much wider, and strange metal things had been speeding up and down the road. These smaller roads seemed safer, somehow.
And yet Adrian couldn't shake the feeling someone was watching him. Throwing a quick look behind him, he saw no one. Nothing but the row of houses behind him. Now that he got a good look at them, a lot of these houses seemed as if nobody had been living in them for what must have been a long time. Many were in a state of disrepair, or worse. It was obvious which ones held residents; these houses stood in pristine condition, in stark contrast to the shambles on either side of them.
It was at this moment Adrian realized he had no way of telling in which house Ash lived. This earned another annoyed groan.
"Ah, excuse me, sir?" a voice called from the other side of the street. Adrian turned to face whoever had spoken, and was met with a dark green puffball on the other side of the narrow street.
"What?" Adrian was not in the best of moods, so he forwent what little formalities he would have usually implemented. This seemed to put off the puffball, but he seemed to shake it off and went on.
"Are you looking for something, sir?" he asked. "If you are, I'd be glad to assist."
Adrian simply stared at him. How had he known? Could he read minds? What was-
"Say...aren't you the one who had been writing in a booklet last night at the library?" he recalled. "You left in quite a hurry."
"That, uh..." Adrian stuttered, guessing he was talking about one of the others. "That might've been me. I've got a...uh...bad memory."
"Ah, I see." Without Adrian realizing it, the dark green puffball had crossed the street and stood no more than two feet away from him. He quickly closed the gap. "My name is Linden, sir. Pleasure to meet you, sir." He stuck out his stub.
Adrian stared at it in confusion. A voice told him to grab it, and he did so. Linden gave it one light shake, then let go. He was still staring at Linden's stub when he heard Linden clear his throat. It was at this moment Adrian realized Linden was waiting for his name.
"Ah...Adrian. My name's Adrian," he said, oddly unsure of himself.
Linden nodded. "Well met, sir. Now, as to my original question. Is there anything I might be able to help you with? If I may say so, you seemed a tad lost."
"Yeah, actually," Adrian said, his brain lagging more and more as it tried to keep up with what Linden was saying. Why are you doing this? What are you even doing?! "You know where a bloke named Ash lives? I'm looking for him."
"Ash, sir?" Linden said, his eyes widening. "You've passed it, sir, assuming you've been walking in this direction for some time. And-"
Adrian inadvertently interrupted Linden's advice with yet another annoyed groan.
After a slight pause, Linden continued. "His house number is...er...forgive me, Adrian, sir. I can't quite recall it," he bowed his head apologetically. "I believe it was seven...seven...something. It should be the only refurbished house in its area."
"Alright, thanks," Adrian said quickly, eager to get away from this strange person to get a chance to process what just went on. "Bye!"
And without giving him a chance to return the sentiment, Adrian (still carefully) ran off back down Conequus Boulevard. He could've sworn Linden had said something along the lines of 'there he goes again', but he didn't want to think about it.
When he felt like he was adequately far away from Linden, Adrian allowed himself to slow to a walk. Okay, he thought. Who was that dude and why the schmuck did I get so weirded out by him!? "Well met, sir." "Pleasure to meet you, sir." WHY do I feel like that's so WEIRD?
It was almost as if Linden was speaking in a language Adrian could barely comprehend, or if he was two sentences ahead of what Adrian heard. What had happened back there? Adrain shook his head, trying to push the memory out of his mind. It hurt just thinking about it.
"Hey, Chaos. I introduced Linden, Chaos," I said, turning back to my co-author, who had his head buried in his hands on his desk. He hadn't moved for a long time.
"He's a blend of two characters from the alpha phase, Chaos," I tried, waiting for him to acknowledge what I was saying. "He's a mix of Trek and-"
I stopped. He didn't move. "Chaos? Are you okay?"
No sound.
Sighing sadly, I stopped trying and turned back to my laptop.
"Seven seven something?" Adrian repeated, counting down the decrepit house numbers nailed onto the sides of the buildings. He was currently in the seven nineties, and the number was falling. This gave Adrian a bit of time to think about what he was going to do once he got to Ash's house.
This was to figure out if we had family, here, right? he recalled. So I'm just going to waltz in there and ask him who I'm related to.
Adrian smiled wryly. "Heya, Sheriff. Mind telling me if any local families have lost a child about my age lately? Maybe you could introduce me to them and tell them I'm their long-lost son!"
"Long-lost son, huh? T' be honest, it sounds a mite far-fetched," a voice behind Adrian said in an amused tone. Adrian, caught completely off guard, reflexively jumped up and began to deliver a kick to the head of whoever was behind him.
WHACK
Toby's brain tried to comprehend what had just occurred. Forcing his eyes open, he felt a sharp pain on his side and a red puffball standing over him with a very cross expression.
"I'm thinkin' that was a bit uncalled for, wouldn't y'say-" he stated angrily, before pausing. "Er...Cece?"
"Cece's the name for the body," Toby said quietly, wincing as he tried to get up. "My name's Toby. And...are you Ash?"
A cold wind blew past the pair.
It was at this moment Toby realized he was covered in cuts. It was also at this moment these cuts began to sting for the second time that day.
"What the heck are you talking about?" Ash said in a loud confused voice.
Toby's eyes widened. Had he said too much? "Um...Alice told us she told you...sorry, forget what I said."
Ash's expression changed from one of confusion to one of recognition. "Oh, yer that orange one from last night! Though...I thought you were a lass, there. Apologies, an' all that."
Toby shook his head. "Alice is a girl. I'm a guy. At least..." He looked down at his body. "I'm pretty sure I am. I don't know what gender the actual body is."
"You change gender with yer brains?" Ash shook his head in amazement. "You jes' keep gettin' weirder and weirder...So. Mind explainin' t' me why you almost gave my head a beatin'?"
"...What?"
"You jumped up and tried to kick me."
"Ah!" Toby exclaimed, frightened. "Sorry! That wasn't me! That was...uh...I want to say Adrian, but-"
"Adrian's another one of you?" Ash clarified.
"Yeah. He's...a ruffian," Toby said slowly, searching for the right words. "What did he do?"
"He was talkin' about findin' his real family, somethin' about me goin' up t' them and sayin' 'here's yer long-lost son!'" Ash said. "Then I said somethin' behind him and next thing I knew there was a foot headed towards my face."
"Oh," Toby said, now feeling awkward. He wasn't sure where to go from here. "Sorry about that. Really. If I'd have come up earlier, I might have been able to stop him..."
"Don't go blamin' yerself, Toby," Ash said. "He's a different person, ain't he?...Ain't he?"
"That's...one way to put it," Toby said slowly. "But, um...about why I came here. Do you know if I belong to some family here?"
"I'll tell you as soon as I get inside," Ash said, looking around. "I can barely concentrate in all this cold."
"That sounds like a good idea," Toby said with a weak smile.
Toby wasn't sure what to make of it. Other than the front door, there were no entrances to any other rooms in his house. The kitchen, the living room, the bedroom...they all seemed to be in one area. Small articles and objects were scattered around the floor, but not enough to give a messy vibe. Ash's house was small. No, Toby frowned. That's not the right word. Cozy. Cozy, not small. Don't say small.
"Small place," Toby remarked.
Dang it.
"'S only as small as I feel it needs t' be," Ash said, looking around. "Y' have to consider th' fact that I'm jobless right now. If I had a ritzy house, I reckon it wouldn't be too easy t' keep it above water. B'sides, I think it's cozy."
Double dang it.
"So, uh," Toby tried changing the subject to avoid becoming any more awkward than he already was. "About family..."
"Right," Ash nodded. Without warning, he got up and headed to a cupboard. "Y'want some cocoa? I figure you spent quite some time out there in th' cold."
Toby nodded uncertainly. "Uh...sure."
As Ash made the drinks, he spoke. Since he was speaking to the wall in front of him instead of facing Toby, hearing him was slightly more difficult.
"Wyvern isn't a very big place, population-wise. Most of us know each other by name," he explained. "So I'd know iff'n someone's kid went missin'. And, unfortunately, that ain't the case."
Toby's heart fell. His family wasn't here. The entire journey had been pointless.
"But what I find strange, Toby," Ash said as he turned around with two mugs in each stub. "I don't recognize you. At all. Not even fleetin' glances of you walkin' down th' street. And I can't help feelin' yer not from here." Ash shrugged and sipped his cocoa, giving Toby the other one. Ash went and sat down on a small chair in what looked like the living room.
It was at this moment Toby realized he hadn't taken a step into the house from the front door. It was also at this moment that I realized I've been doing a lot of this sort of thing. It was also also at this moment when I changed the chapter title.
I looked back at Chaos expectantly. He was still in the same position; head buried in his hands. My heart sank. He had been like this for a while, and all I really wanted was to just have someone to talk to.
"Chaos, I broke the fourth wall. I broke the fourth wall, Chaos," I said. This usually set him off, giving me warnings of doing it too much.
No movement at all. Not even a small grunt to signal he heard me.
I felt like crying. But I didn't.
I didn't.
"But that's not possible," Ash said as he watched Toby sit on a stool across from him. "Every puffball that's ever existed on this here planet has had somethin' t' do with Wyvern, one way or another. So that begs the question: If yer not from here, where th' heck are you from?"
"I wish I could tell you," Toby said sadly. "But I just woke up on a field near-"
He stopped himself. He couldn't mention that town.
"-near Niccola Forest."
"You hesitated."
DANG IT!
"Was this field east of the forest?" Ash asked.
Toby nodded carefully. "Yeah."
"You didn't happen to see any towns or anythin' near there, didja?"
Toby couldn't breathe.
"Is an accent really grounds to fall in love with someone? It seems ridiculous," said Benedict's Cumber-patch Kids and David's Tenants and Matt's Smiths and Daniel's Radical Cliffhangers and George's Bushes and you get the idea.
Oh, Linden. There is no explaining your attributes. Well, there is, but I'm too lazy to do it right now.