:0 sorry for short chapter mylife has been busy T^T
Armour: Aerospec Armour (Ranger)
Weapon: Galeforce (Ichor Arrows); Arkhalis
Acc(11/11): Charm of Myths, Ankh Shield, Terraspark Boots, Luxor's Gift, Deific Amulet, Counter Scarf, Crown Jewel, MOAB, Harpy Ring, Aero Stone, Skyline Wings
Health: (400/400)
For as much as he liked to explore, and for as courageous as he claimed to be, The Terrarian had never dared descend down the shaft he'd blown into The Underworld.
It wasn't because he feared being hurt by the lava; neither was he scared of the creatures he might find there. He'd had plenty of close encounters with all sorts of underground dangers, but none of them elicited the kind of dread The Underworld ran through his bones. That place, that smell, it simply unsettled him. It struck his heart with an uncertain fear. It made his blood run ice cold.
And it didn't scare him because it stank especially badly, although it did - of ash and flame and the hint of burning flesh. It scared him because that smell was somehow familiar. In the past, when he had first evacuated this tunnel, he'd caught wind of it, but wasn't exactly sure what it was. It was faint back then too, only a faraway whiff in the dark depths. But now, with each passing moment, it grew clearer and more overwhelming as if it were approaching through the depths beneath. The Terrarian had sat here an entire evening with nothing to do but try to discern the various smells in the cavern, and now he was never so sure of anything in his life.
The stink of that thing in The Underworld... it was the same as The Guide's.
...
So, (The Terrarian put his poorly exercised brain to work) what exactly did this mean? What were the implications of this oddity? He stared at the entrance of that deep hole as if it were the maw of death itself. There was a time he was curious about what creatures he might see swimming in the sea of lava, or what the molten cavern looked like... but he was put off by the smell. Now that it had come near, and the smell grew more potent, his apprehension bloomed until he was nearly panicking. What sort of monster was down there!? Why did it smell like The Guide!? The Terrarian had never mistaken a smell before. These things were always very distinct to him, and he was certain this signature scent was not merely a coincidence.
How can that be? Surely they cannot be the same being...Is it The Guide's true form?
That pit... it descended straight into The Underworld. If he hopped down, would he come face to face with this 'Wall'? What would it look like?! The Terrarian didn't often imagine things, so he couldn't picture what horrors awaited him. Regardless, his curiosity was entirely overcome with terror. For the life of him, he couldn't even muster the courage to look into at that deep hole, much less approach it.
...
Because he was scared.
Absolutely terrified.
He wasn't afraid for his own life, nor bodily harm, nor a difficult battle, nor the threat of defeat... no, his fear lay somewhere else entirely. His own senses were telling him that The Monster below and the Guide were one and the same. The man himself made no mention of such thing, but what if that monster really was The Guide? If he descended and killed The Wall of Flesh - and his abberant nature would demand he kill it - would The Guide die as well?!
No. No. That's impossible.
Surely not...The Guide wouldn't do that to him. The Guide wouldn't leave him alone like this! That would be far too cruel. The man was well aware how dearly The Terrarian treasured him, so why wound him in such a ridiculous fashion? Why would he use The Terrarian to kill himself when he could so easily accomplish this on his own? Stupidity. The very idea made him want to vomit. The thought of such a thing filled his belly with ice.
... it won't happen... right?
Because he needed The Guide.
If The Guide was here, if The Guide directed his steps, everything would be fine. He would have nothing to fear. The complexities of the outside the world did not bother him because The Guide knew everything and The Guide would not steer him wrong. How easy it had been for The Terrarian to place his life in the hands of his parent. Perhaps it was the human part of him (if, indeed, there was any part in him that was human) that compelled him to cast himself utterly upon the man, to place his faith in him and cling to him despite any doubts and detractions.
It was the easy thing to do.
It was simple.
It was fake and idiotic and utterly dangerous.
He had allowed himself to grow complacent because The Guide took care of everything. He had made himself utterly vulnerable. If The Guide disappeared, his entire world would come crashing down on his head. He had thrown all of his lots in with his companion, and he could no longer withdraw his hand. If The Guide fell, so would he - for he had come to rely on the man so heavily, his absence would leave him completely lost.
...
And if The Terrarian feared anything, it was exactly that. Being lost and alone in this wide, cruel world.
*squeak*
A cave bat screeched from outside. The slow dripping of water counted the seconds like a metronome. The stones were groaned songs of despair. The slow slough of lava rumbled desolation. Outside, the silence and the darkness lay over the cavern like a thick velvet blanket, leaving him alone and floundering in his thoughts. In the past, he had succeeded in busying himself with enough distractions to keep from really thinking, but now - here, in the silence, all the uncomfortable questions he had suppressed for many weeks assaulted him all at once.
Just who is The Guide!? Is he human? Perhaps, but why do all the townspeople fear him? Why was The Guide alone back then? Has he always been alone? What is his motivation for raising me? Why did he name me The Slayer? Is that normal? Why does he smell like the underworld if he fears descending so much? Why was he crying so much last night, apologizing and apologizing, but would not say what he'd done? Is he harboring some terrible secret? Is he about to do something dreadful?
Was The Guide about-...
...no.
The thought was terrible. He shouldn't even think it.
*creak... tap, tap, tap*
The door from the adjoining room opened and The Guide stepped out, changed and ready for travel. His expression was very odd. He was wearing a well practiced smile, but his eyes were red and puffy as if he'd been shedding tears just moments before. His voice was cheerful, but tremulous - like something else would break through the veneer at any moment. In the flickering firelight, his eyes glittered with a resigned hardness. He fidgeted with his backpack straps as if terrifically anxious, yet despite his outward appearance of 'excitement', The Terrarian could see the lines of bitterness turning the corners of his mouth. Something was wrong. As The Terrarian watched him approach, the dread in his guts became palpable.
"Hey buddy. Ready to go? Let's hurry and head down. There's monsters to fight!"
The Guide's familiar voice split the silence. He was feigning nervous enthusiasm, but was doing it so badly - even he could tell it was a farce. Not that The Terrarian was paying much attention to The Guide anyways. Beneath, he could sense The Wall rumbling in the depths. It had come to a stop... It was watching, waiting at the bottom of the pit.
This wasn't going to be like any other monster they've fought before.
This was going to somehow be far more awful.
More personal.
More destructive...
I ...don't want to go.
"...you okay?"
The Guide's tone dropped into concern. He furrowed his brow and knelt to peer at him curiously. The adobe was small and the space was quite cramped, but The Guide never seemed to mind close quarters. In fact, he had become far more tactile than usual as of late, and had no reservations when reaching out to pinch his cheek. The Terrarian didn't necessarily enjoy being manhandled, (The Guide liked to stretch his face in ways it wasn't supposed to stretch) but tolerated it - understanding this strange ritual as some odd form of endearment.
"What's wrong? Why is all your armour over there?" The Guide tilted his head towards the pile of feathered armour in the corner of the adobe. "Does your stomach hurt? Did you run off and eat something strange while I was sleeping?"
It was a joke. He laughed, but there was neither cheer nor real amusement in his voice. The sound rang in the room like silver bells, but The Terrarian watched those hard glittering eyes and knew that The Guide was stressed beyond belief. There was no joy in him. Just a cold sadness and a sharp resolve.
A long silence.
When The Guide spoke again, his tone had changed. His voice was quiet, worry mixed with disappointment.
"Slayer...You're not scared, are you?"
"..."
"You will win. I can ensure it. Just perform as usual. If I recall correctly, you were quite enthusiastic about doing this last night. Have you gotten cold feet? It doesn't seem like you."
The Guide offered a pathetic half smile, as if he were trying his best to keep his hopes up. The Terrarian simply stared at him, unable to formulate the words needed to express his thoughts in arguments. He curled up and wrapped his elbows around his knees, his lips pressed together in a thin, silent line.
"..."
The Guide's fake smile faded and he dropped his hand to his side. Another dreadful silence stretched between them. The Terrarian felt his companion's eyes piercing through him, was he reading his thoughts at this very moment? Did he know he had grown terrified of... some odd conspiricy theory he had hatched from smell alone? How embarrassing, but every fibre in his being was telling him that being laughed at or scolded was leagues better than whatever waited for him at the bottom of that pit.
*Shuffle... thud*
The Guide slumped down beside him and let out a great sigh. He cast his eyes to the ceiling, then to the floor, and finally to the hole. After a while, he spoke again, his voice low and gentle.
"What's wrong, Slayer? Is something bothering you? Something must have changed since last night. What is it? I need to know to... after all, I'm going down there with you."
The Guide nodded at the hole. The Terrarian glared at it, watching as the firelight disappeared down the deep shaft. From the ground came low, nearly imperceptible groanings. Groanings that The Guide seemed to be unable to hear. The bellowing of charred lungs, the gnashing of molten teeth... even the faint howl of mindless screams tickled his ears and raised in him both dread and bloodlust. He could feel his aberrant nature stirring in his bones. That monster... no matter who or what it was, the moment he laid eyes on it, he would be compelled to kill it.
He was unable to resist his own savage blood.
So, he trembled as he spoke, his voice low and scraping like sandpaper on glass.
"Guide... it smells like you. Whatever is down there, You and The Wall have the very same scent."
There was a momentary pause as The Guide blinked and gave him an incredulous look. After a moment he yawned and shifted to lean against his shoulder, falling into his signature lecture voice. But unlike before, there was a certain hardness in the way he spoke.
"Well... that's a weird piece of trivia; I don't quite see why that's important, though. Are you getting all worked up because we smell similar? It'd be amusing if the situation weren't so dire. Why don't we focus on more important things, Slayer?"
"Wh-..."
The Terrarian blinked, stunned into silence at this sudden and uncharacteristic disregard. The Guide... never dismissed him like this. For as long as he's known him (as far as he could remember, anyways), The Guide always considered his warnings very carefully since his senses were far sharper than what he was equipped with.
Does he think I'm out of my mind?
But suddenly, The Guide was treating him as if his concerns were not valid at all! What an offense! The Terrarian's first instinct was to simply clam up and leave the conversation at that, but he decided to explain himself once more. To be honest, he was rather miffed, but did his best not to filter the aggression from his tone.
"Guide... Your scents, your signatures, they are the same. You must be one and the same. Nobody has the same scent as another. Not even the revived clones of The Merchant had the same smell as the original. If I destroy The Wall, what will become of you?"
"..."
The Guide's expression seemed to shift impossibly quickly between four or five sets of wildly different emotions. Did his face really grow so fierce? or was it merely a trick of the firelight? In retrospect, he would know the truth - but at the moment, he was simply too annoyed to carefully consider these things. After a brief moment, The Guide made his decision. He pouted and spoke as if he were hurt.
"You don't trust me?"
"Guide...I'm afrai-"
"Afraid of what? That I'm sending you down there to kill me? You really think I'd try to kill myself?" Now, The Guide was becoming angry. His voice echoed loudly in the cavern and his expression was wroth. The Guide seized him by the front of his linen shirt and pressed against his collarbones to accentuate his points.
"What sort of nonsense is that? That's ridiculous. Slayer! Is that what you think of me?! That not only am I suicidal, but I'd make you kill me? I know I'm not technically your parent, but I did raise you! I cared for you. I never left you alone and I never intend to! I've made mistakes in the past, but surely you don't think everything between us was just some cruel elaborate prank, right?"
The Guide's voice became a shrill, mocking falsetto.
"Befriend The Terrarian, Build a home with him, Fight monsters together, Save each other's lives, shower him with love... then make him fucking kill you and watch him cry from Hell... Really? Is that what you think I'd do? If I wanted to die, I'd just bleed out in the bath or something! Who the fuck wants to burn alive!?"
"..."
The Terrarian had no words with which to respond to such a flurry of words. Maybe hearing it out loud was enough to ease his fears. It... really was a ridiculous notion. Of course The Guide wouldn't do something so terrible. In fact, the very idea was so shocking to the man, he was even offended! Even if they smelled similar, or that... odd, misty memory of a massive flower insisting The Guide would try and commit suicide (what an oddity) plagued his thoughts, it was nothing in comparison to the argument The Guide so angrily put forth.
It stung to be yelled at, but The Terrarian was more comforted by The Guide's indignation than he was cowed.
"Tch... and I can promise you that I won't be dying when The Wall does. Fight The Wall. Don't worry about me. I can swear it too, what do you want me to swear on? 'I Solemnly swear on my life that I won't die after The Wall does' how's that?! What else do you want me to do? Blood Oath?"
"N-no, it's okay."
"You sure? Pinky Promise?"
"I said it's fine."
The Guide panted and glared at him before shaking his head and slumping back against the adobe wall. He muttered something beneath his breath before slowly climbing to his feet. Clearly, this outburst had taken a lot out of him. The Guide pointed to the pile of armour and, tired, spoke once more.
"Good. Then put your fucking armour on and jump into the hole. Let's get this over with."
Guide: It'd be stupid if I did this, right?
Slayer: Yeah, that'd be horrible.
G: Lmao, watch this.
Slayer isn't actually that dumb, he just has low self esteem.
Does The Guide count as a villain yet?