Cochlea Piscis (Screwfish): The Screwfish is a relatively peaceful species of freshwater fish. Commonly found around waterfalls or strong currents, the Screwfish uses the titular screw of bone in its midsection in order to generate mana, similar to a waterwheel. This allows it to live long lives, as it obtains the energy required to survive simply by swimming against the current. Some scholars suggest that the Screwfish may not die of old age, but this theory has yet to be proven. The Screwfish uses excess energy to conjure water in extremely high pressures, which it vents from its body in order to change directions midair. This results in a supremely maneuverable fish, both in air and water. It engages in a symbiotic relationship with Flumen Corallium (See pg. 82), in order to handle magical waste.
Warning: While the Screwfish has little in the way of offensive capabilities, be wary of a swift tail to the face.
Recommendation: Screwfish is considered a delicacy in many inland nations, as one of the most plentiful sources of freshwater seafood.
-Guide to Vendalian Biology
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Pale, green light glared through his eyelids. Nick groaned, but couldn't seem to raise his hands to block the ray. He blinked, reluctantly sitting up as he awoke. Looking around, he noticed that he was significantly closer to the waterfall that he had sprinted towards in his panic, and could now see just a sliver of a space behind it. Excitedly, he jumped up to explore it, but a familiar voice in his head stopped him.
Nicholas, before you go jumping into even more danger, I believe there is a conversation we have both been putting off. Not unkindly, the voice gently directed him to take a seat.
Nick sighed. "You're right. I... I wanted to apologize, for earlier. I was... It was... I shouldn't have yelled at you. I know you didn't have a choice, and I know that I would be dead by now without you, so, I'm sorry."
Thank you Nicholas. I understand that it was painful for you, and I regret that you had to experience it. I assure you, if I had any agency in the situation, I would not have allowed it to take place. Even still, I'm sorry that I am responsible for your suffering.
Nick let out a breath that he didn't even know he had been holding. As awful as the experience was, the raw, ragged edge of it had faded with time, to the point that was possible, if difficult, to move past it. He was fairly certain at this point that if he hadn't lost his mind, he was in another world. If he had lost his mind, then it would probably be better to not engage at all, but it was one of those philosophies that is viable by virtue of being entirely impossible to disprove. Like solipsism, the idea that everyone except you is made up. That could be true, if only because there is no real way to prove that it isn't. However, actually acting on isn't productive or helpful. If he was genuinely insane, there was infrastructure in place to stop him from hurting people. But if he wasn't, and he refused to engage, he would die. It wasn't a hard choice. This world had proved too dangerous to take lightly, a fact to which all of his half healed wounds could testify. Nick shook his head, ridding his mind of distractions. He had a voice in his head to talk to.
"Mr. ...Voice? I don't know what to call you. The way I see it, we're in this together. So I was hoping you'd be able to answer a couple of questions?"
I have had no need for a name, Nicholas, but Voice shall suffice for now. And we are, very much, in this together. As far as I can tell, we are now one entity.
"One entity? Like, we are the same person? That can't be right."
While I can not say for certain, I hypothesize that we are both occupying the same body, simultaneously. Think about it like two pilots in an airplane, if you wish.
"Wait, does that mean you can control my body?!"
Rest assured, Nicholas, I have no means of taking over your body. What little agency I have, appears to be restricted to the more arboreally inclined parts of your body.
"Alright dude, what's with the thesaurus speak? Arboreal? I've never heard anyone use that word ever in my life."
My apologies Nicholas. I am still getting used to sentience. I will endeavor to 'dumb it down' for you. My control is restricted to your wooden hands.
"You can move those?!"
I have been able to in specific circumstances, notably when you were in grave danger. I believe that I require your cooperation to exercise my autonomy.
"I thought you were gonna dumb it down?"
My apologies. I appear to have overestimated your vocabulary.
"I will find a lumberjack, don't test me" The conversation quickly devolved into bickering.
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"So, earlier you said that you needed my permission to make my hands work?" Nick brought the conversation back on track.
I believe, but it requires testing.
"Speaking of testing, what's up with all of these animals? None of them work they way they should!"
We can examine the fish at a later date, Nicholas, but I believe that our previous topic bears more importance.
"You're right. So, what do I have to do? Can I just, say that I consent?" Nick looked at his hands expectantly, but they remained stubbornly inert.
I expect that it will be a matter of wanting me to have control. This may take some time to achieve, I fear.
"Oh, it can't be that hard. I want my hands back, even if you're in charge of them." Nick closed his eyes, the very picture of serenity, and waited for something to happen.
...Nick, you may be underestimating your mistrust of me. You are turning over a part of yourself to me. I do not expect this to happen in a month, much less right this second. Give it time. I just wanted to be open and transparent about my theory.
Nick sighed. "Yeah, I kinda figured. Nothing personal though, right?"
Of course not, Nicholas.
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Nick pushed a stick into the waterfall, wincing at the splinters left behind as it was torn from his hands.
"I don't figure we can just shimmy our way in?"
No, i expect not.
They stood in front of the cave behind the waterfall, a much needed shelter that was being kept from him by the thunderous sheet of water. If he could find a way in, and manage to consistently hunt the Screwfish, he would be set for all of his basic needs, pretty much indefinitely. That is, as long as the cave was unoccupied. Nick stepped back, looking at it from another angle. Across the river, he saw that the cave was blocked by a large, purple tree. It towered a good 20 feet above him, branches splayed like a grasping hand. Some of the limbs were bowed from the waterfall crashing atop them, the distinctive purple bark stripped from them. They bounced up and down, but never broke. The sight reminded Nick of something.
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"Voice, didn't you say something about talking with grass earlier?"
Did I?
"Yes! You said that the grass told you about the coral!" The Voice mentally sighed.
Yes, Nicholas, I appear to be able to communicate with plants. It is... disconcerting, though, so I have been doing so sparingly.
Unbidden, Nick became aware of the eerie experience of communicating with barely sentient lifeforms that thought exactly the way the Voice had up until a couple days ago. It was similar to how Nick imagined a conversation with his 8 year old self might feel, but even that didn't fully capture it.
"I think I understand. I won't ask you to use it too often, but I thought we might be able to find a way past the waterfall if you could ask that tree, across the river." The Voice was silent for a moment, leaving Nick to sweat.
Very well. Allow this to be an expression of commitment to our partnership.
"Of course, thank you so much Voice."
First, you must find a way over to the tree. I require a certain proximity to work my craft.
"Awfully smug for someone literally born yesterday," Nick teased.
My confidence is delivered unto me by God. The Voice deadpanned.
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Nick hauled himself onto the grass, a good 40 feet downstream from where he had started. The cold clung to his skin, burrowing into his veins and pulling against his muscles. The water dragged at him, longing to pull him under once more. He gasped, lungs burning from the aborted drowning.
One might think you had never learned to swim, looking at you.
"Oh yeah?" He coughed out. "I didn't see you helping, Twiggy."
Namecalling is unbecoming of a man of my caliber, but I shall lower myself in order to call you drowned rat.
"I wish you had a face I could punch in." Nick grumbled as he shuffled over to the tree. The bickering slowed down a touch as they approached,. Nick sat down cross legged in front of the tree, falling silent to let the Voice focus. Whispers of leaves brushing against each other, of roots stretching into the earth, of branches falling to the forest floor flitted across his mind, just the faintest touches of a presence. The longer Nick focused on these sensations, the more they began to fuzz into focus, until he finally caught a snippet.
...could move aside...
Nick jolted upright, eyes wide. The tree! It had actually spoken! Not through words, so much as impressions, but they were so deeply layered with meaning that it didn't really matter. The tree could speak! Nick hurriedly resumed his position, searching for the sensations again, desperate to recreate the experience, but he couldn't seem to do it. All he caught was vague sensations. He quickly grew frustrated, throwing up his hands at the failure. Dejected, he turned his attention to the Voice's perspective. It was strange, like wading into an Olympic sized sensory deprivation tank. He seemed to float in place, watching the Voice's memories play like a movie screen floating in the void. He watched the discourse, parsing the Voice's memory of what the tree had said rather than actually understanding the strange not-language that it appeared to communicate with. Once it became clear that the Voice had the matter well in hand, Nick stopped his observations with a huff.
His failure had left him in a strange mood, when a thought struck him. If talking to plants was possible, wasn't that magic? Nick didn't see any technology to make that possible, so it seemed as reasonable a guess as any other. But, if magic let you talk to plants, what else would it let you do? Immediately, Nick stuck his hand out, to great personal effort, and shouted.
"FIREBALL!" He yelled, eyes closed. When he opened his eyes, he was treated to the pleasant sight of exactly nothing having changed. Knowing it was a long shot, Nick went back to the drawing board. It made sense that just yelling didn't work. This world would be evaporated if magic was that simple. Any fantasy story Nick has ever seen usually had a power source for magic. Usually mana, though pretty much any name for it would work. Usually, it was described as a pool of metaphorical energy that people could pull on to cast spells. Searching for anything like that proved to be a nonstarter, however. He sat and meditated, picturing a pool of blue, shimmering energy behind his navel, but this amounted to little more than wishful thinking. He held his hand out, hoping to feel the energy flowing in his veins. When his hand started tingling, he got excited, but it proved to be nothing more than his hand falling asleep. He tried various poses, shadowboxing, interpretive dance, anything he could think of so long as he remained near the tree, but came up empty.
Nick's rigorous testing was cut short by the Voice ending it's conversation.
That was rather illuminating.
"What was?"
The tree. It was way more advanced than I was. I might go so far as to say it has an internal experience!
"You're doing it again. Are you saying that the tree is sentient?"
No, not exactly. It is complicated, and I cannot begin to claim that I fully understand it, but it appears that this tree has an animating force, a will, that allows it to communicate when prompted. But this will only functions when prompted, in a way it can respond to. It seems to lie dormant any other time. The presence was weak, I was forced to restart communications several times, but it is most certainly there!
"So, the tree is like one of those voice recognition things on my phone? It doesn't do anything until you address it specifically?"
Exactly! This is incredibly interesting! Could it be tied to age, I wonder?
"We can research this later, did the tree know how to get us in?"
Oh yes, my apologies. It did.
As if on cue, the trunk of the tree began shifting. Almost like molding clay, the wood bent and twisted, slowly revealing a hole burrowing through the tree! The ground rumbled as roots shifted to accommodate for the new weight distribution, and water sprayed across the sky as the branches played about in the waterfall. Droplets flew over his head, the light beams bouncing off of them to form scintillating rainbows above his head. Nick stared, slack jawed, at the beautiful display of magic being performed, and was struck with a desperate, powerful need.
He thought, I want that.
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Nick walked through the newly made arch, hearing the steady pound of the waterfall above rattling his ribcage. He stepped through skittishly, not quite trusting the tree to keep the force of a waterfall at bay. His fears were unfounded, however, as the tree stood strong. Beyond the waterfall, a decently large cave had been carved out. The ceiling hung a good two feet above his head, and the far wall gave him plenty of walking room. In summary, it was about the size of a studio apartment. Spying a patch of particularly dense lichen, Nick took a seat, finally allowing himself to relax. It was wet, squishy, and all-around uncomfortable, but it was better than nothing. He sighed, his spine popping as he stretched out.
"Now that's nice," he said absently.
As much as I would like to leave you to your relaxation, Nicholas, there are a few more things we must take care of.
Nick groaned. "Like what?"
I would advise ensuring that the cave is empty. It would not do to get mauled in your sleep because we didn't check if a bear had prior claim.
"What could have even gotten past the waterfall?"
If it got past the waterfall, we should be doubly wary of it.
"Hmm, I guess you're right. But, look around! There's nothing here!" Nick attempted to spread his arms for emphasis, but only managed a beleaguered shrug.
I might suggest investigating the ivy lining that back wall.
Nick groaned again, but stood up and walked over. He thought about attempting to get his hand up to the wall, but decided that his shoulder would do. He rubbed the joint against the wall, brushing the plants aside, until suddenly there was no wall. Entirely unprepared, Nick toppled to the floor, whining as he nursed a new bruise. Another to add to his collection, He thought. He stood up, feeling a carpet of moss through the soles of his shoes. Perplexed, he took one of his shoes off to investigate, revealing that the sole had somehow been completely worn through. He sighed, taking off the other shoe and leaving the outside the passageway. He had tried barefoot running before, but he wasn't much of a fan of running with shoes on, so it had never really stuck.
"Should... I check it out?"
Cautiously, I would advise so. Be prepared to run if we encounter anything.
"How would I know, it's pitch black in there. I can't see two inches from my face!"
There is plenty of plant life along the walls. I will use it to provide you with early warning should you end up in danger.
"...Better than nothing. Alright, let's check it out." Nick set his shoulders, determination writ across his expression, He was so focused on hyping himself that he didn't even notice a finger twitch on his hand, just for a second.