Paul

Traveling through the Wilderness felt eerie. Something terrible could appear ahead or behind at any time, but they found no serious trouble after twenty-four days and seventeen worlds. Slow going, but caution was king. Waiting a minute might clear a faster path of danger, or they could spend fruitless hours avoiding a detour. Double watches at night and three buddies for bathroom breaks. Nothing happened.

Nothing except they ran out of TV. Cassie could put on reruns, but they’d never see the last episode of Top Rock or the new season premiere of Outlast. People started accepting Daniel’s offers for a game of chess. Well, not everyone, but Lea surprised everyone the first time she beat him, and Kenta traded wins with Daniel in chess and Go.

Today their path ended in a purple bubble leading outside. Two working nodes waited nearby, to two separate worlds.

The others looked to Paul, waiting for his say. After a moment of concentration, he came up with the answer, “The right path is faster and more dangerous.”

Cassie shrugged, “So we go the safe way.”

“There’s no guarantee the other path reconnects,” Kenta agreed.

“Which is why we have to be patient,” Daniel replied, “Use trial and error.”

Lea creased her brow, “Cassie should at least Listen. One path being ‘more’ dangerous than the other is meaningless if both are safe. If she hears nothing, we take the direct path.”

The way was silent.

They continued for another hour when they spotted something ahead. Rain long since washed away most of the evidence, but the ash in the soil told the story of an old campfire. Its coals were worn to dust over the years, its stones scattered, with new green coming through. Paul registered the others’ discussion with half a mind as he plodded along in a singular fixed direction, drawn by an irresistible impulse.

The pit in his stomach which accompanied their arrival continued to grow. A slight sway in his compass-like sense of direction indicated he was near. Disturbingly near. So near, his inner candle flame wavered in time with the shifting weight of his walking gait. Left, right, left, right, left, right.

A stiff, crumpled form poked out of a patch of fresh grass. Hands trembling, Paul picked it up. Holding it up, he let gravity unfold it. Paul saw everyone staring. In his hands, wind swayed the weather-beaten flag of the Traveling Orphanage.

“Paul, what’s going on?” Daniel asked. The others had caught on.

…never…

He dropped the flag like a venomous snake and started backing away from it, “L-living things are hard,” he began, “T-to find, you see? They’re c-changing all the time, and three years is a long…”

“Months wasted on a cold trail!” Kenta yelled, “How could you do this, Paul?”

You… never…

“Living th-things are h-hard, I w-was trying to be clever—”

“—I trusted you!” Kenta’s hair whipped itself into a writhing storm cloud of lashing tendrils. Paul tried to look very small.

You will never…

Daniel stepped between them, “He was doing what he thought best. It can’t be easy, and remember what Cassie said, ‘He should understand his ability better than anybody?’”

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

You will never understand…

Shut up! Paul told the voice inside, You’re only a memory!

“But he’s obviously bad at it; I still don’t Hear any danger!” Cassie turned to him with a look of disappointment that hurt worse than the anger or cutting words and shook her head, “We’re looking for people, Paul. You know, people—You remember what those look like, right?”

Kenta shouted, “He had one job and months to get it right!”

“In any case, we should not tarry long,” Lea said, too exhausted by the letdown to be really angry, “And prepare ourselves for a journey more arduous than first expected.”

You will never understand your magic!

From the corner of his eye, Paul saw Wendi pick up the flag and hold it open to better look at the symbols. She shook all over, and the light of comprehension dawned on her face. Paul’s tongue lay dull and unresponsive as he stumbled to sound the alarm as she shapeshifted into her lean, deadly blue alter-ego, “W-W-Wendigo!”

His eyes must have said enough because the others turned quickly—but not in time. The Wendigo’s claws dug furrows in the dirt and rocks as she threw herself at them. They’d have been torn to shreds had Rana not come from the side in a flying drop-kick. Instead, the attack sent the Wendigo flailing away, but she grazed the ground with a claw to stabilize and land on cloven hooves.

Obsidian orbs shot by, expanding rapidly in flight. The Wendigo smacked them aside one after another with her claws and a thick shark tail.

Cassie took off as he raised the alarm and now screamed a cone of disorienting sound. While attempting to dodge the attack, the Wendigo found her feet glued to the ground by sticky green slime. The blue devil pulled away in time through raw strength, skittering forward on scrabbling claws and dragging her legs behind.

Paul, Daniel, and Kenta stood together as she came. Kenta made a bunker with his hair coiled around them. Daniel had a line of sight but held his fire, his face showing a turmoil of traumatized fear and affection for the dormant red devil inside. Paul located the best place to defend from. By shifting his weight, he triangulated the distance—two kilometers north. He scrapped that idea; it would take too long to untangle how to ask for what he wanted.

Paul looked for where he could find a way to change Wendi back. The candle flame in his mind pointed unwaveringly to himself. He had everything he needed to fix this, but he couldn’t find the words to help her.

You will never understand!

Crushed by that echoing voice of doubt, Paul switched tactics. He made candles. They were simple to summon and shape. The forming wax followed his eyes and took whatever shape his imagination decreed—but his speed needed work. Besides, she sliced any barrier he put in the Wendigo’s way like butter.

The Wendigo was upon them when Rana slammed feet-first between her shoulder blades this time, pressing the blue devil into the ground. The whiplash forced the Wendigo’s arms back, allowing Rana to grab both wrists and glue them together. Then Rana bent the Wendigo’s legs back and hogtied them to the claws, hopping away as the blue devil thrashed about with her tail. As Wendigo strained the sticky bonds, heavy black caramboles landed with a crash.

Lea’s orbs shrank to marbles, revealing an unharmed Wendi.

The red devil girl looked about in confusion, “Now, how did I get over here?”

Rana, who stood nearby, helped her up. The frog girl presented the flag to confirm the danger passed, yielding further confusion from Wendi—who no longer recognized it. That fact made Paul feel even worse.

Battle with one of their own sapped the others of anger. They weren’t berating Paul, but they wouldn’t look at him directly either. He wasn’t certain which he preferred.

“Paul, we are going to try this again,” Lea said, not wishing to remain here any longer than necessary, “This time, we are looking for a person. And be careful choosing someone who would not leave the group in our absence.”

“I can do that.”

“Paul didn’t mean for any of this to happen!” Daniel tried again to come to his aid, “He just—”

“—Enough, Daniel.” Paul stared his friend in the eyes. There were scenes of confusion and anxiety in the Angel’s soul, waves crashing, a crowd of people on the verge of fleeing, a school of fish scattered by a shark of doubt. Daniel’s emotional landscape showed plain as day in his eyes, tinted by the lens of his magic. “This was my mistake. I have to own up. I have to try harder.”

Lea nodded and started the long walk onward. The others followed without a word. Paul and Daniel were last in line. “Thanks,” the candle boy finally said when he thought the others were far enough ahead. He gave a weak smile.

Daniel smiled back, pained but glad, and Paul saw a cactus flower blooming in the desert.

On the road, their solution for dealing with the day’s events was to ignore them completely. Doubts were buried, further criticism left unspoken. After they set camp, they watched reruns of their favorite shows and played simple games.

Paul understood. Nobody wanted to confront the implications of what happened. In a couple days, they’d recapture their rhythm. They’d proceed and hope everything worked out for the best.

There wasn’t much they could do, anyway.

They were already deep in the Wilderness.