02-28-2019, 07:25 PM
For the fourth time in his short life, the whole world hinged on a simple, spur of the moment decision. This time it boiled down to left or right, exploring strange landforms or making his search on an empty beach. They were teaching their lesson well; small choices could have untold consequences. He ambled along the beach, silver eyes on the lookout for any shells at all, skipping the smooth sand of the shoreline and sticking to the line of debris that marked the last high tide. Odds were if he was to find any shells, they’d be somewhere the waves hadn’t been licking and pulling them back into the water, right? Somewhere just out of reach?
He didn’t get far before the ground beneath his feet rumbled angrily, the island shaking and quaking and kicking up a strange swirling storm that swept up and devoured those who had chosen to head the other way. All he could do was silently wish them the best and keep moving, because a sandstorm tore its way toward them, kicking up particles of sand and winging their way. Eyes wide with fear, Nocturne picked up his pace, launching into a gallop, eyes still on the ground searching for shells they so desperately needed. This time, he wouldn’t fail. Three shells, he could find three. You know. While running from a sandstorm that wanted to eat him up.
No big deal.
The first shell* he spotted was grey and white, the dark grey forming a crescent moon as it curved outward toward the edge of the shell. He lowered his head and snatched it up, still running and working to wrap ice around it and freeze it into his scruffy little mane to carry back up the Mountain. He made the mistake of glancing back, only to see the sandstorm getting bigger and rushing closer. Fuck. Running out of time, two more to find. Okay.
On he ran, scouring the beach for any sign of shells that were inexplicably few and far between. Rock, rock, seaweed, more damn rocks, that was two quests ago and not this beach! Aha! There! A flash of brown in between the...well, the other brown and white and sandy hues and the piles of random not-shells, but this one looked like a shell, okay, spiky little edges that weren’t rock, so he got excited. Sue him. He reached down to snatch this one up too and--ow! Fuck! Nope! Owwwww still occupied, that was definitely a crab, not a shell. Fuck, dammit, ow! He shook his head, dislodging the crab, staring after it for a second as it flew through the air, wondering if that counted as a shell?
Best not to risk it, he couldn’t fuck this one up.
So he ran on, until he spotted a little white oval that he was prettyyyy sure was actually a shell this time? He dipped his head to pick it up, a nervous little jolt running through him as he made contact. Oh good, this one didn’t hurt though, just a shell** this time, a flattened oval with white and a soft sort of uhhh sandyish off-white beige color? Look, he didn’t have a whole lot of time to analyze and describe it, the sandstorm was closing in and if that debris started burying shells or kicking them up too he’d be good and screwed! He’d leave the critiquing to the fairies, thanks. Ice wrapped around this shell too and gently pulled it up to his mane to join its buddy as he kept right on running.
Sand was starting to obscure his vision, filling the air and getting in his eyes and clinging to his coat and his nostrils, but he still had to find one more. He couldn’t really see much by way of the soft, quiet colors anymore, but as he ran, a tiny flash of deep red caught his eye, almost blood or cherry red that bled into white stripes, leaving the low points a reddish-pink color, look, it was bright and pretty and he saw it, and that had to be good enough. He ground to a halt, letting the sandstorm swallow him down as he picked up the tiny shell***, wrapping ice around it as he reached for it so he wouldn’t break it. Eyes scrunching closed against the sand, he guided the ice-encased treasure to his mane to join the other two shells.
Blinded by the sand, he turned left and ran for the shore, choking on the tiny, clinging particles that made their way into his nose with every breath. He snorted, shaking his head to try and dislodge some of the sand, and dashed into the water, relief washing over him as it splashed up his chest and his belly and washed away some of the sand that clung to his moonlight pale coat. The deeper into the water he got, the farther he’d leave the sandstorm behind, right? So he kept powering on, dunking his head under the water and shaking it to get some of the damn sand off his face, blowing again to get it out of his nose. Shit, and focusing on the ice, keeping it nice and cold even though it was stuck to his warm body and risking melting into the sea and all. No big deal. Got this.
From there it was honestly a matter of routine at this point. It was the fourth time he’d attempted to gather ingredients for the cure, and he was getting well acquainted with the trek back to the Mountain from anywhere on the continent. He swam back to the mainland, raced through the volcanic paradise of Tephra and along the border between two clashing forests, one evergreen and the other ever autumnal. Over the hilly scape of the land beyond, followed another border between forest and rugged foothills, over the river that felt like nothing next to the swims he’d taken across the sea. And then back up the Mountain once again, back to the fairies. Once again, he collapsed in an exhausted heap as he reached them, letting the ice melt to reveal the three small treasures he’d gathered for them.
Hopefully it would make a difference. He tried not to think too hard about what would come next, when his whole life so far had been this, one quest after another to try and gather the ingredients they needed for a cure. If this was the last one, maybe he’d have to face the nightmares and the loneliness, the empty days that had only been offset once by a girl with fire in her eyes that helped melt the stone his body had become in the belly of an ancient beast. She must be out there still, maybe even back at Silver Cove. If the fairies didn’t need him anymore...maybe it was time to see what else life could hold in a world he’d helped make safe again.
If it worked, of course. Shit. He really hoped it’d work. “Is there anything else you need of me?” he asked, panting and staring up at the fairy who had sent them on this quest. “Anything else you need for the cure, any other way I can help?”
*Decatopecten noduliferum, grey and white sunrise shell, also called moonrise shell when found in the darker colors like this, (ring finger) with a pattern that looks like a dark crescent moon
**Patella vulgata, limpet shell, oval and looks like a flattened volcano, white and a sort of soft beige.
***Muricopsis (Risomurex) rosea, pink drupe/rose murex, paralectotype
He didn’t get far before the ground beneath his feet rumbled angrily, the island shaking and quaking and kicking up a strange swirling storm that swept up and devoured those who had chosen to head the other way. All he could do was silently wish them the best and keep moving, because a sandstorm tore its way toward them, kicking up particles of sand and winging their way. Eyes wide with fear, Nocturne picked up his pace, launching into a gallop, eyes still on the ground searching for shells they so desperately needed. This time, he wouldn’t fail. Three shells, he could find three. You know. While running from a sandstorm that wanted to eat him up.
No big deal.
The first shell* he spotted was grey and white, the dark grey forming a crescent moon as it curved outward toward the edge of the shell. He lowered his head and snatched it up, still running and working to wrap ice around it and freeze it into his scruffy little mane to carry back up the Mountain. He made the mistake of glancing back, only to see the sandstorm getting bigger and rushing closer. Fuck. Running out of time, two more to find. Okay.
On he ran, scouring the beach for any sign of shells that were inexplicably few and far between. Rock, rock, seaweed, more damn rocks, that was two quests ago and not this beach! Aha! There! A flash of brown in between the...well, the other brown and white and sandy hues and the piles of random not-shells, but this one looked like a shell, okay, spiky little edges that weren’t rock, so he got excited. Sue him. He reached down to snatch this one up too and--ow! Fuck! Nope! Owwwww still occupied, that was definitely a crab, not a shell. Fuck, dammit, ow! He shook his head, dislodging the crab, staring after it for a second as it flew through the air, wondering if that counted as a shell?
Best not to risk it, he couldn’t fuck this one up.
So he ran on, until he spotted a little white oval that he was prettyyyy sure was actually a shell this time? He dipped his head to pick it up, a nervous little jolt running through him as he made contact. Oh good, this one didn’t hurt though, just a shell** this time, a flattened oval with white and a soft sort of uhhh sandyish off-white beige color? Look, he didn’t have a whole lot of time to analyze and describe it, the sandstorm was closing in and if that debris started burying shells or kicking them up too he’d be good and screwed! He’d leave the critiquing to the fairies, thanks. Ice wrapped around this shell too and gently pulled it up to his mane to join its buddy as he kept right on running.
Sand was starting to obscure his vision, filling the air and getting in his eyes and clinging to his coat and his nostrils, but he still had to find one more. He couldn’t really see much by way of the soft, quiet colors anymore, but as he ran, a tiny flash of deep red caught his eye, almost blood or cherry red that bled into white stripes, leaving the low points a reddish-pink color, look, it was bright and pretty and he saw it, and that had to be good enough. He ground to a halt, letting the sandstorm swallow him down as he picked up the tiny shell***, wrapping ice around it as he reached for it so he wouldn’t break it. Eyes scrunching closed against the sand, he guided the ice-encased treasure to his mane to join the other two shells.
Blinded by the sand, he turned left and ran for the shore, choking on the tiny, clinging particles that made their way into his nose with every breath. He snorted, shaking his head to try and dislodge some of the sand, and dashed into the water, relief washing over him as it splashed up his chest and his belly and washed away some of the sand that clung to his moonlight pale coat. The deeper into the water he got, the farther he’d leave the sandstorm behind, right? So he kept powering on, dunking his head under the water and shaking it to get some of the damn sand off his face, blowing again to get it out of his nose. Shit, and focusing on the ice, keeping it nice and cold even though it was stuck to his warm body and risking melting into the sea and all. No big deal. Got this.
From there it was honestly a matter of routine at this point. It was the fourth time he’d attempted to gather ingredients for the cure, and he was getting well acquainted with the trek back to the Mountain from anywhere on the continent. He swam back to the mainland, raced through the volcanic paradise of Tephra and along the border between two clashing forests, one evergreen and the other ever autumnal. Over the hilly scape of the land beyond, followed another border between forest and rugged foothills, over the river that felt like nothing next to the swims he’d taken across the sea. And then back up the Mountain once again, back to the fairies. Once again, he collapsed in an exhausted heap as he reached them, letting the ice melt to reveal the three small treasures he’d gathered for them.
Hopefully it would make a difference. He tried not to think too hard about what would come next, when his whole life so far had been this, one quest after another to try and gather the ingredients they needed for a cure. If this was the last one, maybe he’d have to face the nightmares and the loneliness, the empty days that had only been offset once by a girl with fire in her eyes that helped melt the stone his body had become in the belly of an ancient beast. She must be out there still, maybe even back at Silver Cove. If the fairies didn’t need him anymore...maybe it was time to see what else life could hold in a world he’d helped make safe again.
If it worked, of course. Shit. He really hoped it’d work. “Is there anything else you need of me?” he asked, panting and staring up at the fairy who had sent them on this quest. “Anything else you need for the cure, any other way I can help?”
*Decatopecten noduliferum, grey and white sunrise shell, also called moonrise shell when found in the darker colors like this, (ring finger) with a pattern that looks like a dark crescent moon
**Patella vulgata, limpet shell, oval and looks like a flattened volcano, white and a sort of soft beige.
***Muricopsis (Risomurex) rosea, pink drupe/rose murex, paralectotype
