[AtD] Don't Follow the Lights - Printable Version

Taking the opportunity to explore Hydra was something that Wilder jumped for immediately in the mission the Merchant had set out for the gembound. She had watched a couple of the others head towards the cliffs, so she turned to the darker, shadier part of Hydra - intimidating, but reminding her of Cetus, which she didn't actually mind all that much, all things considered. But as she wandered into the Dead Marsh, she realized that this was nothing like Cetus.

Her paws were sinking into thick wet sand and she struggled to plow her way forwards, trying to find safe passage through the treacherous wetland. The trees provided no shade from the brutal light, not even the memory of leaves anywhere to be found. She was glad that she'd sent Vaati back to the entrance of Hydra for now - she did not want him here, in danger with her, where he would quickly panic and sink or be picked off by the eyehooks she could see high in the sky.

Well...she was exploring, sure, but she was here for a job. Searching her way through quicksand pits and boggy mud, she eventually dug up a smooth orange spessartite, which she flipped over in her paw. It wasn't magical, but it was quite pretty! Realizing that she needed something to hold all of these in, she sat down and quickly pulled off the cape she'd received from Naskital and tied it around her body in such a way that it formed a small pouch under her belly. Don't ask how she did this. It looked silly, but it would work to keep her findings out of the way, even if it might get uncomfortable the more she collected.

She moved further through the marshes until she found another spot that seemed promising. A pool of mixed mud and quicksand that didn't look fun to search through, but, well, she'd dug her own grave with this one. She crouched at the edge and pawed through scooping out clumps of sand and mud until she felt her paw bump into something hard. Using her claws to extract it, she pulled onto the hard sand in front of her a little piece of charoite, lovely purples and black and white.

A quick cast and yes! Magic thrummed through it, alive and strong. She tucked it away into her makeshift pouch, noting mentally for later which ones were which.

Her next stop was at the base of one of the dead trees - this one was a little bigger then the others with roots that stuck out of the ground in places. She clawed around the sand sticking to it, creating a hollow towards its center until she hit a dry, dead tangle that impeded her way. She then turned and started another one in a different spot. This time, her claws scraped more rock - pulling it free, it was a dull green-brown gem, that reminded her strongly of swamp water. It wasn't exactly pretty, but it was a fascinating specimen that, with a quick cast, showed magical potential inside. Noting that one as well, she tucked it next to her other two finds.

The next gemstone she found she actually spotted laying in the mud from a ways away. It wasn't exactly hard to spot - a bright yellow cat's eye peeking through what was otherwise mud-caked rock. She bounded over and extracted it, wiping away most of the mud and holding it up to the light, moving it back and forth and admiring the unique gleam that gave the stones their name. As she did, she sensed for its magic and found a weak thrum within.

It was then that she wondered how...ethical this was. Had these gemstones not been, at one point, living beings? At least the ones that held remains of magicka within them. Doubt crossed her mind for a moment. Was she killing people, or potential people by offering these to the Merchant? Was she wiping potential out of existence with this?

But were there not hundreds, maybe thousands or even millions of these gemstones scattered across origin cave? And were more not being infused with life as she thought about this? How many of them would ever get the chance to live again besides the special, chosen few?

She would mourn them, each one, but she tucked it away with the others, mood dampened, as she continued on her way.

It was beginning to grow dark - the lights overhead were beginning to dim into the night cycle and Wilder was beginning to notice strange lights appearing all over the marshlands. For a moment, she admired them, a small beauty among such a dark, hostile environment. And she almost went to go follow one of them. But then sense took hold of her - there would be no beauty out here without reason, would there? Hydra had been inhospitable until recently, and still dangerous now. She was not taking that chance.

Moving more quiet and away from the lights, she continued her trek, digging up another gemstone - a smoky quartz point that gave off a strong magical glow. She tucked it into the pouch with the others and continued slinking through shadows.

In a small pit of mud that smelled like death, Wilder picked through, scooping out large pawfuls until she noticed something white. For a moment, she thought it was a bone, but upon wiping the rest of the muck off, out tumbled a white crystal, similar to quartz but with a milky sheen and a pink hue. Petalite, came the name, and when she reached out to test for magic, the response that came back was strong.

She paused, tilting her head at it and nosing it curiously. Somebody powerful had once had this stone. Or somebody that was otherwise brimming with life. For the first time since her hunt started, she found herself curious to know more. She wondered who they had been, what they looked like. What powers they had that made them so powerful.

She pulled her way away from the mud pit and found a dead tree with relatively dry ground to rest upon. Sitting herself down, she set the petalite in front of her and reached forward to nose it carefully. She closed her eyes as she focused, thinking of life. Begging her magic, first, to work here and, second, to direct her vision to the life of the one who had held this stone last. Just a glimpse of their life would be enough. Perhaps a glimpse of them. These focuses had never...really worked before, but it didn't stop her from trying.

Feeling ready, she activated the spell and felt her magic tug, sweeping her away like a branch in the surf to visions of the past and what had once been.

The light faded around Wilder, dimming as if she were viewing a theater stage at the very start of a play.

Nightfall. Just past that touch of evening, when the last of the orb-lights above dimmed to dusky blue. Two shapes pushed through the muck: one small, panting, but moving with frenetic energy. The other large, sliding over rather than through the muck. The smaller was almost reminiscent of a very small dog: stick-thin legs, rapid movements, a snarl of focus on its alien face, a hunk of amethyst on its forehead. 'This is bullshit,' the smaller one complained, four ears pinning to its neck in irritation.

The larger creature curled almost serpentine around it, seeming to exert no energy in its own traversal of the marsh. A large, webbed wing--like a fin--curled protectively over the far smaller beast. Hooked, badger-like claws settled only gently on the mud. 'It is not a Trial.' Its rumble was reassuring. The vision shifted, a little, so that Wilder could fully see this beast: thick-limbed and long-bodied, as though panther and whale, snake and mustelid, had all been combined. A blunt skull and thick, carnivorous teeth flashed in contrast to its dark blue pelt as it spoke; the weasel nose twitched at the scents around it. Small, tufted ears turned, and the two black goat-like horns that curled back from its skull gleamed dully. Behind it, a long, thick tail swayed carefully. It was remarkably graceful for all its enormous size.

The smaller creature huffed. 'I know. I know. We don't need to rush. But this place is ass.' Just then, it stumbled. A trip. A yelp. A scramble, as the mud began to suck it down. In an instant it was chest-deep and vertical, its entire lower body tugged beneath the surface-

-and then the larger beast reached in, pulling it out. And fell. A sideways tumble as the mud gave way underfoot. An instant's poor luck, and it was crashing into the quicksand, sinking, sinking-

The smaller creature turned, alarmed, terror in its gaze and for a moment, their eyes met. The blue beast threw the smaller one to shore, in its last instant--to safety--and then sank out of sight. 'No--NO! No!' cried the little one, anguish in its voice.

As the vision faded, a last, broken few words reached Wilder's mind, every syllable cracked with grief. 'I love you.'

Wilder came softly out of the vision and felt dampness on her cheeks - tears that had spilled out partway through the vision. Concerns for 'power' or whatever she'd been looking for were behind and lost. What was important was that this gemstone was once loved, cherished. And it had fallen to misfortune, a moment of bad luck, that had left one other grieving in its absence. It hadn't been a grand spectacle, not like the last time she had done this, searching for and finding the lost stone of an old king betrayed by his friend, but not every life had to be like that. A simpler life or a simpler death did not make it any less or more worth then any other.

Clutching the petalite close for a moment more, she found her taste for this...activity completely gone. How could she collect more stones to be destroyed, when any one of them could have this kind of story underneath? Could have been loved by another, could have had family? She thought of the three gemstones growing in Andromeda. What if she died and her stone used for such a purpose? They would never know, they would know nothing but that she was gone. And forgotten.

Well...not everything has to be forgotten, then. She tucked the petalite into her pouch with the others, intending on holding onto that one. She would hand the rest over...but she would collect no more for this purpose. Ever.

She turned from the place and opened those shimmering magnolet wings, not wanting to take another step through this cursed swam, and taking off back towards the Merchant, a new thought beginning to unfurl in her mind.