Calamity's Survival

2. Master

Disclaimer: I do not own Amphibia

He walks through the swamp. Living in the place has always been quiet. He garnered a certain air with the more violent and larger denizens of the swampy forest. They leave him alone and he leaves them alone.

The quiet though has been broken after years of relative silence.

Screaming.

Yelling.

Shouting.

Screeching.

It was distant, but it was definitely different than the normal ambiance that he was accustomed to. Frankly, he should have just ignored it and left the poor unfortunate frog, toad, or newt that wandered into the place as they were of no concern to him.

However a weird gut feeling of his tells him this time… this time is different.

So here he goes, grumbling as he does, trekking his way through the mud and mossy water to head in the general direction of the commotion.

He mumbles as he walks, idly chatting to himself and wondering why he is bothering to go out and check. Several occasions he's heard different individuals make their way into the swamp only to be succumbed to the more vicious creatures that dwell in it. Nothing he could do for them really as it's just what happens in nature.

This time it felt different, from the different sounding yells to the overall anger and shouting that came with it. Not something he's ever heard happen in the swamp before.

*SHICK*SHICK*SHICK*

The slick sounds of something flesh being mashed around. He makes it to a large brush of shrubbery where the noises were emanating from. He grunts at the obstacle but simply reaches with his right hand towards the left side of his hip. Grasping the handle, with a heave his sword comes out of his sheathe, flaring out his coat and cutting the shrubbery down with one fell swoop.

The scene that he finds before him is one for the books for him. In all his years of being a fighter, mercenary, assassin, and protector, never has he seen something like this.

The location and landscape has been ripped and torn to shreds. Deep gouges have been placed into the muddy ground, rocks and some boulders chipped and shattered, bits of it littering the area. Trees are shattered and splintered about, fallen on the ground with whole trunks of the trees laying on their side with some of the stumps of the trees staying stuck in the ground. Small specks of red blood can be seen along with even larger splatters of green blood. He takes a small whiff and snarls his lips, taking note of the smell of burnt flesh along the air.

The sounds can be heard still and he carefully scans the area. Just past a fallen tree he sees movement. Taking careful steps he maneuvers around until he sees who or what happened.

A creature can be seen, stepping next to the felled body of a massive red mantis. His eyes widen at the dead beast, but also at the strange creature standing over it.

It's tall, lanky, spindly arms and legs, wearing weird clothes, has a head of black hair, has tannish skin that looks nothing like an amphibians, which also has splotches of red on different parts of his body and clothes. Currently it is stabbing repeatedly with a makeshift spear into the head of the mantis. The rest of the mantis body is covered in splinters of wood, puncture marks along its body and its limbs just barely look held together, torn wings with the membranes almost sheered off, the ones that are still attached, limbs and wings. The squelching sound of the spear stabbing into the head can be heard over and over again, the creature reducing the head into punctured mush soon after. With one final stab, it stays still, a deep, low but haggard breathing can be heard emanating from the creature. Slowly it stands up to its full height and slowly takes a step to the side, leaving the spear into it.

He tightens his grip on his swords handle, ready just in case if the creature is hostile. To him at least.

The creature though takes a few steps to the side, making his way to the burnt out remains of what was once a campfire, having been snuffed out and smoldering remains scattered about. The creature takes a few steps before with a grunt it collapses onto its knees with a frustrated grunt. "Damnit." It speaks in a male tone. He struggles to get to his feet but find his legs shaking to do so, even more so as he slams his hands into the ground. He lets out a grunt of pain as he cradles his left hand. It's revealed that the burnt smell of flesh is coming from his hand. He clenches his eyes in pain before sucking in a pained breath and trying to crawl forward on one hand and his knees. "C'mon Jack. Not now. Not here. Keep going. You have to… keep going." He begins to struggle to talk and even move as red begins to stream down his right arm and right leg. "You have to… you have to…" He almost faceplants onto the ground as he tries to make it to his former campfire, reaching for a backpack laying there. He lets out several strained coughs as his body begins to shake and he collapses. Even so, his uninjured right hand clenches tightly into the mud, making him grit his teeth in anger and tries in one last effort to push himself forward. "Get up, damn you… you have to… find them. Find… Them!" His tone begins to increase in slight volume as his teeth grit tightly. It's all for naught though as his body weakens considerably, the anger and adrenaline he was feeling fade away, replaced with a tired expression as his eyes droop. "Find them… find…"

*…Thud*

Finally, he collapses completely to unconscious, revealing the large cut gash on his back streaming blood.

"…" All is silent in the swamp now. The observer purses his lips as he stares at the creature. His mind is a wonder of curiosity at the moment from what he's seen. Not much can be seen about the strange creature, no discerning marks, claws or anything about it that looks like it has any natural defenses. He looks around at the devastation this section of the swampy forest is in. Obviously most of it seems to have been done by the giant red mantis itself but the fact that the strange creature itself has only several cuts, gashes and bruises amidst it's body and the mantis is dead, surprise and respect are the main things on his mind.

His eyes shift towards the creatures body. He sheathes his sword and walks over to him. As he steps close the body, he crouches low to the ground and listens. Very faintly he hears the heavy ragged breathing of the creature.

'Not dead…' He mutters in his mind. He purses his lips as he stares at the creature, then to the destruction around, then to the dead mantis laying still on the ground.

"Hmmmm…" He lets out a long hum of contemplation, before letting out a sigh and shrugging his shoulders. "This might be stupid." He mutters in a deep gravely voice. Unceremoniously he grabs the strange creatures body and hurls him over his shoulder, not even bothering to be careful. He only lets out a small groan at the manhandling but stays unconscious. As they begin moving away, the observer takes a look at the destroyed campsite and noticing the black bag on the ground. With another groan, he reaches down and picks it up with one hand from the strap and walks off to his home, carrying his new guest as he does.

The building is silent. The only silence that can be heard is the small crackling of fire in fireplace stone area, the owner idly stocking the fire with a metal rod. On the couch nearby is Jackson, unconscious but stirring as nightmares plague him. He grunts and groans a little for a moment or two before his body stills for a second.

"Gh!" He jerks awake, his eyes shooting open and his body twitching on reflex. He freezes as the onset of pain racks his whole body. His wounds from before are now coming at him in almost full force now that the adrenaline and anger have surpassed. He clenches both his eyes closed and his mouth to avoid making too much noise as through his haze he barely manages to make out the new unfamiliar environment he is in. Well, actually for the last several days he has been in an unfamiliar environment but this is still something new. When he calms down, his eyes carefully trail the contours of the room he is in without too much movement on his part. The room is of a dark wood type, although a bit shaggy it is still well kept with tiny bits of moss mostly at the corners of the room. Painted pictures of various types from landscapes to unknown creatures and metal plated knights, from what he can tell through the darkness, are the subjects of the pictures. A few weapons line the walls, with shields, flails, longswords, broadswords and even axes can be seen attached to the walls. Old slightly ragged drapes cover the windows with a large slightly rotted and moldy wooden front door.

The sound of crackling fire gets his attention. Looking to the side, its night time and he sees the fireplace bright and lit up… with someone sitting right next to it poking at the fire. Jack can't tell who or what it is due to the cloak they are wearing that obscures their character. Subtly he slowly starts to move his hands to the side of the couch he is laying on and tries to put pressure as carefully as he can. His efforts are in vain though as his wounds act up harshly, forcing him to stop less he let out a strangled cry and give away the fact that he's—

"Good. Your awake."

… That.

He looks up, stunned at the gruff voice coming directly from the person in front of the fire. The person slowly gets up and slowly turns around with a small stick with the end on fire as he walk up to him. Jack's eyes widen as quickly pulls himself up to a sitting position, not caring at the pained groan he gives. His breathing starts to get heavy and fast as the mysterious figure gets closer and closer to him carrying the fiery stick. His eyes shift all over the place trying to see if he can find or use anything to try and defend himself. Unfortunately he finds nothing of use and can only stare at the figure approaching, mentally preparing himself for a fight as his fists clench tightly at his sides. The figure stops a little bit in front of him.

"…"

"…"

They stare at each other for a few seconds, neither one saying anything but Jack can tell that the person in front of him is not human but beyond that he's not sure. Suddenly the figure raises the stick, making Jack's breath hitch as he holds it up. Then the figure raises it forward not to Jack, but to the side. Jack follows the stick and to his surprise, he lights a candle on the small end table next to him. The figure does the same thing to the other side, adding more light and illuminating the room even more. After the candles are lit, the figure pulls the stick up to his mouth and blows air onto it, snuffing out the flame before nonchalantly tossing the stick backwards and landing inside the fireplace perfectly. Jack can only stare at the fireplace for a second at the impressive accuracy before staring back up at his… host. The figure takes off his gloves, depositing on the table nearby and revealing red with big white spots amphibian-like hands before reaching up to the hood covering his face, pulling said hood back and finally giving Jackson the opportunity to see his first sentient living creature that hasn't tried to straight up kill him… yet.

The figure is a dark red salamander-like creature with white spots dotting his body but leaving the facial area entirely dark red. He has green eyes, and a few scars lining his face, a cut on the left side of his lips, a jagged scar going through his right eyebrow above his eye, and a large star-like splotch on the top left side of his forehead like his head impacted something hard. A black cloak of some kind covers his entire body except since he pulled the hood back it parted open in the front to reveal the clothing he is wearing. A small silver moon brooch locks his cloak around his neck onto his body. A dark gray undershirt covers his torso with a dark brown scaled-typed of armor with straps on it and pouches cover his chest. A leather belt of a sort wraps around his waist with the sheathe of a sword on one side with a small sheathe of knife on the other side and pouches line it. Black pants with leather-like boots cover the lower parts of him. Dark brown gloves with small metal studs lining the parts of his knuckles cover his hands.

"That's better. Getting a little dark here." The salamander comments before he grabs a chair and moves it close so he can sit and stare at Jackson. He lets out a groan as he sits down and settles in. "Now that your awake, I'm sure you have some questions." He surmises.

Jack stares at the person for a few seconds, unsure of many things at the moment before he swallows and decides to go for the gamble, since he doesn't really have much else he can do at the moment that won't result in further bodily harm.

"… What's… going on? Why am I here? And who are you?" He carefully asks.

The salamander lets out a chuckle as he settles into his chair a little more. "Hm, I can imagine your quite confused. In the order of your questions, you were injured so I brought you here to stitch up your wounds. I have to say if most frogs, toads or newts got the same injuries you had, most would not have survived."

"I feel so lucky." Jack deadpans as he suppresses a his of pain as he flexes his burned hand. However he also takes note of the other creatures he mentions. 'Frogs and toads? What, is every Amphibian from Earth suddenly sentient and bipedal here?' This is the first moment since he's came to this world and found more information about the world he found himself in. Having been suddenly dropped in the middle of a dark treacherous swampy forest, it was hard for him to try to navigate his way out of it so his focus after an unsuccessful couple days of searching, survival was his main focus for a week. This sentient creature in front of him is the first actual conversation he's had since waking up. He's grateful, but he's still wary.

"As for why you are here, as I said you were injured so I brought you here to make sure you didn't die from your wounds. I have to admit, I've traveled a lot over the years and I have NEVER… seen a creature quite like you before. So safe to say my curiosity for you saved your life. How about that." He says with a chuckle.

"Hmm." Jack hums indignantly.

"And for who I am…" He gets real quiet and seems to think on the answer for a moment before letting out a sigh. "Well, I'm just a simple hermit living out the remainder of his days. You can call me Mordan."

"… Jack."

"I didn't ask for your name."

"You gave me yours, and you saved me. It's the least I could do considering."

"Hm." Mordan smirks before leaning back in his chair. "Well, your not stupid, that's for sure."

Jack scoffs as his wounds make themselves known, reminding him of how he got them in the first place. "I don't know about that. Staying and fighting that giant bug probably wasn't high up on the smartness scale."

Mordan lets outs a small laugh at that, finding it amusing that the creature in front of him is able to joke albeit just a little bit despite the fact he came very close to dying not earlier in the day. His chuckles fade away though as he gets a very grim look on his face. "That's another thing I took note of." This makes Jack be on edge at the new tone his caretaker has suddenly gotten. "That creature you took down, the Red Praying Mantis…" He leans forward a little, laying one arm on his knee and the other laying closer to his cloak. "It did a number on you. Left you on deaths door by the end of it."

"Feels like it." Jack answers in an even tone.

"So much so that you were quite delirious. Talking just before you passed out."

"Don't know what you're talking about." It's that where his memory is a little fuzzy. Jackson remembers the fight, vaguely, remembers the injuries he sustained and the injuries he gave to his enemy… but he felt like he was running on pure adrenaline and when the monster was dead at his feet, he can't remember exactly what happened afterwards, just passing out.

"Oh but I think you have some idea. Afterall, you weren't fighting just for yourself…" Mordan proceeds to pull something out of his cloak and hold it up. Jackson's eyes widen at the item in his hand. "Your fighting for them, aren't you?"

Jackson narrows his eyes and menacingly growls as he stares at the picture in Mordan's hands. An old picture, but a picture he treasured nonetheless. "Give that back." He outright demands, not making any effort to hide the anger in his voice.

Mordan simply smiles as he continues to hold the photo. "You must care for them very much don't you? Not many would have survived as long as you have," He then waves the photo a little to emphasize the point, making Jackson's eyes widen, "Not unless they are very determined by something… or… someon—"

"RAAHH!" Jackson pushes off the couch and makes a grab for the photo. Mordan was expecting that as he pulls the photo up and out of his reach. Jackson grunts as falls forward onto the ground but he rolls on the ground and goes into a crouch. He winces as his wounds ache from the sudden movement but his anger is at high levels again now and that's what he's focusing on now: getting what's his. Jackson lets out another yell as he charges Mordan again. The amphibian makes no effort to move until just before Jackson is within arm's length of him. He steps out of the way of the charging human and dodges the attempt of an attack, tapping his back and forcing him to slam into the small table against the wall. He grunts as he slams into it, using the table to keep himself stable for a second as he catches his breath.

"Is that all your going to do?" Jackson grips the table tightly in anger at the salamanders voice behind him. "Just charge like some rabid animal?"

"SHUT UP!" Jackson screams and pulls the small table up and throws it towards Mordan. He ducks under the table throw before standing back up, unable to dodge the charging human again. However the difference in strength is obvious as he simply musters his body to the side, pushing Jackson's momentum in another direction and making the human stumble a bit before he slams into one of the far walls. The human grunts as he braces himself face first against the wall, the weapons and decorations rattling a little from slamming into the wall.

"Your not going to win like this." Mordan continues to speak, almost taunting Jackson as he speaks, making the human look up and stare at the weapons on the wall. "Your going to have to do something different if you want to get back what's yours."

Jackson growls darkly before grabbing something off the wall, ripping it off its holding and swinging the weapon in a wide arc.

Mordan is unfazed by the sudden use of the weapon as he steps back out of the arc of the weapons swing. The spear that Jackson uses, a simple wooden shafted weapon with the metal spade head tied into the wood, is griped tightly by Jacksons hands, back on his feet and glaring daggers at the Amphibian. Mordan for his part though, simply gives a chuckle and even gives Jackson a 'come hither' gesture with his hands to the boy.

"That's more like."

Rage soars in Jackson as with a yell of anger he tries to stab, slash and hit him, intent to get back what's his.

Mordan steps back again and again, staying just out of reach of Jackson's spear thrusts and slashes. He lets out a frustrated yell and with only his right hand holding close to the backend of the spear he thrusts it forward, adding just a bit more reach to his attack and it works. Mordan makes no move to jump back again.

He dodges it instead. He leans his head to his right, making the point of the spear pass just where his head was before he moved it out of the way. Mordan clicks his tongue at the overreaching attack that Jackson did, leaving the majority of his weapon open to be grabbed as he can't pull it back in time. Mordan reaches up to enclose his fingers around the shaft of the spear until he notices the odd movement that Jackson is doing. He pushes himself forward, hand still clenching the spear in his right hand but in addition he presses his left shoulder into the shaft of the spear, rolling his body along the shaft while pulling the spear against him.

Using his own body as a leverage point, he essentially adds more leverage strength on his side than Mordan's as evident by the spear being ripped from his hand and still staying in Jackson's.

Oh but he's not done yet. With adding the spin to his move, he does a complete 360 degree turn around and brings his spear back around one-handed still, barely clipping the wall of the house before with a yell he attacks Mordan. The salamanders eyes widen as he steps back but isn't fast enough still. The tip of the spear catching the front of his armor and creating a deep gash in the material. He lets out a deep grunt at the hit before he takes a few steps back. Seeing his opportunity, Jack grabs his spear with both hands again and charges, a fierce war cry leaving his mouth as intends to get back what's his, savior be damned.

Mordan for his part quickly collects himself from the momentary surprise before regarding Jackson with an impartial look for a second.

He smirks as he reaches to his side.

*SHIIII-CRACK*

"Arhhhh!" Jackson shouts as he's thrown back through the air. His attempt to finish the fight ended in disaster. Mordan in almost the blink of an eye finally pulls his sword from his sheathe, forcing Jackson to pull his spear up to defend but it was a failed defense. The sword breaks his spear into two, wood pieces falling away and around him as he goes sailing through the air from the force of the impact. When he impacts the ground though, his eyes shoot open as white dwarfs his vision, a single barely audible cry leaves his body as his body tenses up and lurches horribly. Landing directly on his back injury, the pain he was feeling through the fight was magnified ten times than what he was feeling before. The pain of the landing, the soreness and stinging sensation of his hands, even more so on his burned one, the flare up of his weakened body's pain paralyzes his body in excruciating pain. His back arches harshly before he stops moving and lets out pained ragged breaths. With a grunt of frustration mixed with pain he tries to sit up.

He freezes as cold steel touches the bottom of his chin. He lets out a growl of anger as he follows the scuffed and dirty blades length up to the person. Mordan stares down at him, a firm impassive look on his face, a far cry from the murderous look Jackson is giving him. A few tense moments pass as they stare at one another. After a time, Mordan takes his sword away from Jackson's throat. The boy himself grunts as the blade is taken away and he reflexively rubs his throat. As he does this, Mordan takes a step forward and moves to Jackson's right. He stabs the sword into the floor uncomfortably close Jacks hand as Mordan leans in close. Jack's anger turns to caution as he studies Mordan's unreadable expression. The salamander though, keeps his hand firmly on the handle of the sword and the other holding the photo still. For a moment, Jackson's anger returns.

The photo is let go.

Now he's confused as Jackson looks at the photo now laying on his chest. Looking back up at Mordan, the salamander still keeps his looks about him. Jackson grabs the photo and looks at it closely, the memories of the photo coming back to him as he calms down. The photo shows the four friends when they were together back on earth. From the left of the photo shows Anne, eyes closed with a peace sign and smiling as can be towards the camera. Next to her on left, the photo's right, is Sasha giving a carefree smile as she has her arms wrapped around the shoulders of the two people next to her. One hand is gripping Anne's shoulder, the other to her left. Jackson smiles as he sees himself standing next to her, his right hand in the pocket of his black pants as he gives a closed lips smile at the camera. His left arm is placed on the shoulder of the last person in the photo. Marcy smiles at her friends next to her, her hands placed inside the pockets of the gray jacket she's wearing. All of them have their school clothes on with the crest of their school emblazoned on some part of them. For Anne and Sasha their shirts, for Jackson and Marcy its their black and gray jackets respectively.

"You won't survive out there." Mordan's blunt tone snaps Jackson from his reminiscing. "Not how you are now. These woods are too treacherous the further you go out and the fact you survived the time you've been here is no short of a miracle."

"There a reason you're telling me this?" Jackson bluntly asks in return, the hostility in his tone returning. This doesn't piss off Mordan though, he simply chuckles and leans in a little closer.

"The red mantis you killed is a strong fearsome creature and it would have taken several very capable and strong soldiers in order to fell the creature, with casualties. You though… managed to take it out, on… your… own."

"…" Jackson just stares at the salamander, not bothering to say anything and let him continue.

Mordan stands back up to his full height with his sword in hand. "Not just anyone can do what you did, alone especially. Albeit was reckless and your anger is another problem you seem to have, having nearly gotten yourself killed by fighting two opponents that have the very real chance of killing you."

Jackson glares at him, "Is your reason for telling me just so you can admonish my attitude? Because if you want I can just leave and be out of your hands."

This gets Mordan chuckling darkly as he stares harshly at Jackson. "You could leave… but like I said, you won't survive out there. Because theirs bigger and worse things out there than that mantis. Not how you are now, not even when you are healed. At least, not without help." This gets Jackson to look at him confused, not believing what the salamander is implying. "You have potential. Potential to go far and do so much more. It would be a crying shame for you to die before you have a chance to do anything." Mordan smirks as he holds out his hands to the side. "Let me make it clear to you: Let me train you, and you can survive here, and anywhere."

"…Why?" After a moments pause does Jackson ask, still not believing him on the exact reasons for what he is proposing to him.

This time though, Mordan's smirk widens a bit more on his face. "Call me a senile old frog, wanting nothing more than to do one last thing before he croaks. You also remind me of me… an angry idiot, with the potential to be the best fighter there ever was." He grips the handle of his sword with his left hand and extends his right to Jackson. "You wanna get out of here alive and find your friends? Then you better be ready to train like your life depends on it… because it does. Stick with me I'll make you a force to be reckoned with."

The human stares at the offered hand for a few tense moments before looking back up at the person who is offering their help. Jackson never was much to just trust a random strangers supposed help, the fact remains his injuries have been patched up and he has found the first indication of any kind of civilization since coming to his new world. It's been almost hell every hour on the hour he's survived in the cursed forest swamp he's been in. It's hard to say where exactly he could go to get out of the environment without running into a plethora of hostile monsters that would want nothing more than pick the meat from his bones and use said bones as toothpicks.

He is tired from constantly being on edge and as loathe he has to admit it, he needs help.

With a sigh, not an angered growl as he's so used to doing the last few days, he grabs the hand.

Jackson grunts as he's hauled to his feet but remains standing. Mordan gives him a cursory look over before holding the sword out and flipping it around, grabbing the tip of the blade and holding the handle out towards Jack. He looks down at the handle for a second before grabbing the handle and taking it, allowing him to look closer and examine the weapon. It's not the best sword he's every seen, a simple sword with a slightly scuffed and chipped blade, bits of dirt sticking to it as he finds no sheen to the blade. He jerks a little as a scabbard is placed in his vision. Taking the item as well it's an equally as dirty hide covered sheathe but fits the sword he now has.

"Get some rest boy." Mordan speaks, walking away from Jackson as he goes to the front door. "Because when I'm done with you, you'll have everything you need in order to survive in Amphibia." With a flourish, he opens the front door, revealing the morning sun, momentarily blinding Jackson as he steps out.

With nothing to be said, Jackson stares out at the front door, the wind billowing in a little and ruffling his clothes and hair a little. His body finally relaxes. He sheathes his new sword and holds the weapon in his left hand.

He stays staring at his bandaged left hand for a few seconds, a small ache of pain can be felt but this only makes him clench his new weapon tighter in his grip He pulls the picture up so he can get another good look at it.

He stares into it, admiring the carefree and happy faces his closest friends had when the picture was taken, the memories they shared together reminding him that despite his gruff nature, they still stuck with him and never asked him to leave.

And now they are all separated from each other in this hostile world.

His grip tightens on his weapon. A new look of determination marring his face as he stares out the door.

'Hold on girls. Give me some time and I'll find you. All of you.' Pocketing the picture, he steps forward and out the door, closing the door as he passes by it, his steps of slight pain now filled with renewed purpose.

'I swear it.

I will find all of you.'

Second chapter down, looking good so far. As you can see, Jackson has now got himself into quite the situation with an old hermit in the woods. Things are going to change for him right quick. As we all know Amphibia may be bright, sunny and have some pretty great people, the wildlife is definitely not nice.

Jacksons going to need some help in order to get out of the hostile territory he's found himself in.

In a bit of explanation for himself, Jackson is kind of an angry person. A very angry person, as evident last chapter where he decided to say screw it and fight something that he should not have fought alone. He's going to have to work on that less something makes him really get himself into hot water that he can't wade himself out of.

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