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B 4 C 38: Rowboat

Teuila knows that it’s likely not that simple, and that I don’t want her doing any such thing. She’s also making the proclamation in an unstable mindset. I know she’d freak out at herself for thinking of abandoning me somewhere for however long it would take to travel to the ends of Rayileklia searching for evil dragons. I mean, I hope Teuila wouldn’t just sacrifice the first two dragons she came across without verifying that they’re in some way a danger to others. I know in her right mind, she’d never do such a thing, but she’s skirting the edge of grief right now, the idea of losing me. Dawn nods to me, affirming that they remember we both knew Teuila would be like this.

Dawn also gazes curiously at the floating blue triangles that disappear. Dawn reaches out to poke one, and it almost seems as if the polygon pops like a fragile bubble of soap. Teuila notices what Dawn is doing, and gazes down at her own hands, realizing she broke skin deeply enough that some of her wireframe is visible along the middle of her palm. Dawn’s expression of dawning shock and horror would almost be funny if the three of us weren’t in the middle of battling grief and the possibility of loss.

Dawn stammers, “B,boss. W-what? What? What are you? What is that? Rej, are you like that too? Wait, no, you got a scratch when you fell, it bled normal, I saw it.”

Teuila frowns, “I’m Can’Z’aasian critterkin. A digital life form I guess? I don’t know, we had weirdly massive vocabularies and encyclopedic knowledge of a lot of things from the moment we hatched, but we never knew there could be any other kind of life. At least until we met Rej, then later when we met humans, even more different than Dink.”

Dawn’s confusion is evident, “Digit-al? Like, you’re made of fingers? That, that’s creepy and weird, and does not explain a void under your skin with weird lines.”

Teuila curses under her breath before further explaining, “Crap, ugh, of course you wouldn’t know digital terminology. If I said resolution you’d probably think I just meant an answer or the ending of something, a conclusion. If my resolution ever reaches the vanishing point, I break apart, I’m erased. My skin immediately disappears, and my frame and core are exposed. They drift away into, I don’t know where, and shatter. That’s what dying is like for me. Okay? It’s different, but I still live, I still breathe, I still die. Please don’t make this into a thing. Okay?”

Ugh, today sucks. It utterly, utterly sucks, and it’s only pre-dawn hours yet. I can still see a glow in the direction of Autumn Brook, so we haven’t put that many miles behind us yet across the lake. I do not want to think about Teuila dying. Or, or anyone. Obviously I’d prefer to not die as well, but, well, we all know I’d jump into fire for any one of—, okay, fire is a bad example. I’d jump into certain death for any friend, loved one, lover, and even most acquaintances, if I thought it was the right thing to do to save them. Teuila would too. We both have actually. Several times, only one of which actually led to our deaths.

Dawn glowers for a bit, their mood shifting visibly upon their countenance as their thoughts drift to denial over Aces’ death, anger at it, anger at us, fear of us, confusion over us. It’s a painful sight honestly watching them experience all those emotions without being able to help them sort through their feelings at all. We spend the rest of the morning in silence, each of us mulling over our dark thoughts. It’s awful beyond belief. Right next to two wonderful people, yet so alone in my own mind, and they’re both doing the same thing to themselves.

Suddenly a voice booms from across the railing on the main deck of the steamboat, “Oy, you gloomers certainly aren’t feeling the ‘aster are ya? Looking real ‘chalant for a trio getting a free trip at top speeds. Should shevel up and eat at least. I’m not about to have Harriet down my throat about you three not making it to your destination. I’d much rather she were ‘turbed.”

My brain massively blue screen of deaths as Captain Tim aboard the Drake uses unaffixed words to mean the opposite of their usual prefixes. ‘Aster instead of disaster to say we’re not feeling a successful mood? ‘Chalant instead of nonchalant, worried rather than relaxed enjoying a free ride? ‘Sheveling up instead of being disheveled and sitting in discomfort? He wants Harriet to be pleased rather than disturbed? I mean, all fair conversation points, but, but those slang. What sort of dick invented those slang? Ugh, my head. Why does it hurt so much? It’s like someone took the bar from a typewriter and jammed it through my temple, then continued to type! Migraines suck!

Teuila still looks like she’s ready to transform and scour the planet for dragons, and she’s not in a talking mood. Dawn went entirely vacant sometime in the last few minutes. They’re completely unresponsive to anything. It’s a bit spooky. I don’t even sense their gazing presence. Wait. What!? Dawn! I shake Teuila to her senses, pointing worriedly at Dawn. Teuila first looks furious, about which thought currently, I’m not certain, but she quickly joins me in worry.

The two of us scoot the couple of feet of distance that was between us and Dawn, and try to check them for any sign of life. Okay, that was a stupid idea. Of course there’s no sign of life. I’m freaking out and panicking. Dawn’s under some sort of curse, right? They said something about their senses coming and going? What if, um, what about? No. What about? Ugh, no! Okay, maybe, okay I can at least do this. I pull out the staff and cast the aura vision spell. Whew, thank all the spoots that Dawn’s soul is still here, though it seems to be diminishing faster and faster. If their soul lasted decades until now, it definitely won’t last decades more.

At the current rate of exponential decay, um, crud, don’t have my mental inventory interface. Let’s try to math this out with average guesswork. Is that a squared curve maybe? Seems possible. Okay, between two weeks and two seasons, split the difference, probably two months at best. Holy crap, no no no no. That’s if we can even wake them up somehow. Teuila and I stand over Dawn, gripping each other’s elbows, staring back and forth between Dawn and each other in fear.

I stutter, “Te, T-Teuila. Their soul. It, it’s going away faster. It was already shredded, and slowly being stripped away from them, but, but, if, if I have my math right, judging on an eyeballs guess of measurements, well, friggin’ heck. Sorry. It, I hope I’m wrong. Their soul looks like it’ll last between two weeks and six months, probably closer to two months at best, if we’re lucky. I’ve been trying to get a chance to talk to them about it since I first saw their soul out west.”

A voice from beneath me asks, “’Zat so Rej? Two months? Been a long time coming.”

I exhale a ragged sigh, choking back a sob. I don’t think Dawn wants to be touched, or I would drop to my knees and hug them tightly. Teuila actually starts to do just that. Dawn scooches away ever so slightly, and places a hand playfully in Teuila’s face, preventing any hugging.

Dawn states, “Cool it Boss. It’s fine. Had to know it would happen eventually. Just didn’t think it’d be out of the blue. But what’sat supposed to even mean? My soul is shredded? Disappearing? I mean, when it’s gone, that’s when I finally kick it, right? But, but then, well, what about the hereafter? Joining the ancestors? Just, just doing normal dead people things? I don’t get any of that?”

My voice cracks as I try to guess on the positive side of things, “I, I don’t know Dawn. I could be entirely wrong about what I’m seeing. Moreover, it could just be that your soul is making its way to the hereafter first, ready to meet you there when your consciousness finally decides to join, or something. Right? Like, like none of us really know how that stuff works to begin with. What do I know about some glowy whitish partial orb with slashes and frayed edges?”

Dawn veritably fumes, but seems playful about it, “Well hell Rej, had a pal going there for a minute, so instead of knowing when I’m going to kick it, I just know that you’re an idiot that doesn’t know what they’re talking about?”

Teuila starts to defend me upsettedly but I interrupt with laughter, “Hah, yes, yeah. Please, let’s just hope that I’m as dumb as we both think. But, but Dawn, this, just now. You were checked out, like, fully, completely unresponsive. Has that ever happened before?”

Dawn shrugs as they answer, “Not sure if I’d know the difference. Hadn’t really hung around anyone til you two, not in a very long time. Other than, huff, a couple minutes a year with my pal the skulking stranger. Aces.”

Crap, that makes sense though. With no one to tell them they’d been checked out, and nothing really needing dedicated observation, they probably wouldn’t even notice missing time with how bored they are. Poor Dawn. Friggin’ heck. There has to be something we can do. You know? But, but what? If, if only we had the books, if maybe Dawn had a book, they, they could maybe, I don’t know, just maybe be reborn on Can’Z’aas, or somewhere. Hell, I’d settle for sending them to Earth. Not sure they’d enjoy that prospect, but even Fakeworld has to be better than total oblivion. Right?

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Interrupting my reverie is swearing from the enclosed-helm cabin, “Gorram blasted pump. Swear I had you fixed. Lads ‘n’ lasses, or whatever ya like, we’re taking on water in a crucial area. I’m taking us aground on midpoint beach to patch up. Won’t take more than a few minutes, but would appreciate your hands getting her back in the surf after. Alrighties? Get crash you three, pick yourselves up. You’re supposed to be some big damn heroes or something. Slayers of titans. Not mopey teenagers.”

I can’t help laughing for a moment. Also, what did he mean, get crash? Pick ourselves up, I get that, so, contextually, something about doing better. How in the heck is crashing something remotely related to doing better or being better or feeling better? Knowing my luck with lines of thought tempting fate, we’ll end up suffering the usual meaning, and somehow have to fight off some creatures or something while we un-crash the boat.

Captain Tim Fisher pulls the Drake alongside the shore, just enough that it lists ever so slightly, sticking to the mud of the beach. While he works on the engine and pump, I hop out of the dinghy to stretch my legs on the beach. I’m worried that the other two are still stewing, as they don’t join me immediately. Not long after though, Teuila soars out of the sky into my arms, happy as can be. Nothing can keep Te down if she doesn’t want it to, literally. I’m so grateful for her enduring exuberance. I turn to look back towards the Dinghy, wondering. Is Dawn going to be j— holy crap. Dawn’s at the rear of my danger sense wraps, further on land than me, but how?

Also, that’s a lot of other creatures suddenly in range of my danger wraps. They’re like bowling-ball sized crabs, but somehow their forms are more visceral, edgy, visually angry. I turn to shout a warning to Dawn who leaps back just before my words leave my lips, as a claw snaps where their ankle was a moment before. Is, is the whole island moving? No, I think just the floor of the forest. The entire thing is a swarm of crustacean cutters. Or I could be wrong, it could be both. Por que no los dos. Of freaking course. How in the hell did The Brook have something like this nearby, and no one happen to mention it as a frequent danger?

Wouldn’t Tiago or George have been the first to say something like, ‘oh hey adventurers, since Harriet is kicking you out of town by boat, make sure you don’t stop at midpoint beach, because it’s actually a giant sea monster’? Did no one know until just now? How and why are we the first to find out?

I call out my concerns, “Dawn, do you need help getting back on the boat? If so, Te, please help them. Te, whatever you do, don’t kill any of the little ones just yet. I think the whole island is a momma crustacean or something. Captain Fisher! Tim! Why did you land on a sea monster!?”

A voice calls back, “Why the what now? Did someone put your brain on mode? You’re not making sense. Get traught, I’ll be done in a jiffy.”

I shout again, “A jiffy might not be soon enough, this island’s about to stand up and attack!”

Teuila actually starts to laugh, and she rubs her eyes beneath her hooded poncho. I can see her mouthing ‘only you Dink, only you.’ Yeah, only me would end up arguing with a captain, trying to convince them they landed on an active sea monster, because only me would end up in such a situation. I, me, you know what I mean, ugh. Maybe they’re normally dormant because no one ever lands here, and Tim is just the first captain to ever need to perform repairs mid-lake-voyage. If we don’t get out of its attack range soon, it’ll likely attack and destroy the ship. We could be stranded on the waters. At best Teuila could keep our gravity light, and it would take us days to kick the edges of the surface of the lake to make it to either shore. The three of us on the shore are carefully prodding and shoving back the massive wave of smaller creatures as best we can while retreating.

Since the captain didn’t respond, I call out frantically again, “Captain, I’m not one to joke around! We need to leave, now!”

Tim calls back, “Hold your seahorses, you don’t want to be caught in the grip of the Loch Siempre monster, so we’d best make sure we can put on all speed before, oy, quit rocking the boat until I tell you to shove off. Actually, that’s a mighty strong push you three have. Oof, hey, settle down!”

As the island begins to rise from beneath the waves, it’s as I’ve feared. This is some sort of enormous mud-covered crab monster, with half a million tiny, well, tiny by comparison, crab monsters on its back. They’re actually fairly frighteningly large for angry animals. Tim actually comes out on deck to chew us out as the boat lists heavily towards the lake, nearly capsizing westward off the island rising under its eastern bow. However, he can see the reality of the situation plain as day, so stifles any admonishment.

Tim grumbles, “What in blue blazes? Well, can’t say I’m all too whelmed about this situation. Mairess is going to owe me for this one. Maybe I should ask for a season of no taxes, no, two, for this headache. If my boat even survives.” He then shouts, “Alright you three, give us a shove, get back on, hurry! Here’s the lifeline. Tie off, then haul yourselves up after pushing off!”

I’m almost about to warn Teuila to be careful with her strength. If she puts all of her incredible force into a small location against the hull, she’ll just rupture it rather than pushing off of the island. Teuila’s foresight beats me to it though. She virtually bearhugs the boat, probably dropping its gravity significantly, as she carefully edges it back into the water. It’s too big for her to have fully removed its gravity, at least as far as I’m aware of the last time she really tested her powers trying to go all out. Still, seeing a single woman essentially lift an entire steamboat is breathtakingly astonishing.

As we all hop back aboard the boat, the steam engine already has us speeding away before the crab-creature gets its bearings. The three of us in the dinghy break into laughter after staring back and forth between one another for a short while. What in the everloving heck? Am I fated to run into giant monsters? What was that third test? Inevitability? Seems like.

Wait. The third test. All those years with Lil. A monstrous creature that seemed like a combination of other creatures, it loomed above a miniature forest and it smashed a snowglobe-like object that seemed to contain a castle or city? No! Oh no oh no. We have to get back. Wait, no, maybe the test was, I don’t know, what was inevitable if we didn’t make the shield of lacrimosa trifecta. Like, maybe the Fae and human mages would have combined to put up a temporary magical shield, and that one would bust under the attacks of the godly calamity that was the combination of our four Can’Z’aasian continent’s lesser gods in the Divine Maelstrom. I, I can’t afford to think about it. I can’t lose hope that my family is okay. I just, I can’t.

Trying to distract myself, I ask Dawn, “Dawn, why did no one bother to mention a giant crab monster, or a swarm of small crab monsters? Also, what’s this about a Loch-Siempre Monster?”

Dawn scoffs, chiding, “Okay, that last one is a myth. The first one, well, I don’t recall anyone ever coming across such a thing before. Anyway, Lochsie is an old tale passed down to give travelers the shivers as they take the ferry, and to keep any of them from deciding to settle on the lake.”

I’m nodding along. That seems reasonable I guess. However, genre savviness senses are tingling. Lochsie is totally going to turn out to be real. Oh friggin’ heck. Seriously? Maybe a little more warning next time genre senses? Something large looms beneath the waves that causes a crest to splash across the entire boat, rocking The Drake wildly. I drop a deadpan look towards Dawn who appears sheepish. I’d laugh if it weren’t such a comedy of errors revolving around my own life’s misfortunes, and my own running gag that I’m a cryptozoologist that keeps meeting all the supernatural creatures of the world. Hell, of all worlds.

Something akin to a head seems to be breaking the surface of the water, and it raises on an eerily long neck, but it’s difficult to see since the nearest Luma Tulipa is quite a ways away. Huh, I think it looks kind of like, well, a plesiosaur? Yeah that sounds about right. Honestly, I think it has Vampguppy’s body, so maybe Vampguppy was some sort of amphibious short-necked plesiosaur, or something of the sort. Thankfully it appears more interested in where we came from rather than where we’re going. Maybe it’ll go check up on the crab thing. Maybe they’ll battle, or maybe they’re a couple about to go out on date night. I mean, it definitely wouldn’t be the weirdest thing to ever happen in my life. There was a roc married to a phoenix that lived on a volcano that was actually a dorsal ridge of a monumentally colossal dragon deity. They both identified as male, but I figure that, much like the rest of critterkin, well, anyway, that’s neither here nor there. They were a lovely couple, despite the considerable threat to my life.

Oh, there’s a sobering thought. I hope they survive the convergence. I figure the phoenix will be alright, legendary bird of rebirth and all, but, but the roc. I don’t want to know what would happen if the phoenix lost his roc partner. Or all their eggs. I’ve got the one phoeroc egg that isn’t destined to hatch. It does seem to be magical though. Despite it having been about as large as my torso originally, I think I could shrink it to the size of a pebble. Maybe I’ll pull it out sometime to have another look at it if things calm down on Rayileklia.

It seems like the rest of our voyage across the lake is fairly uneventful, and I nap after eating a slab of jerky and some hardtack. When I come to, it’s because Teuila rouses me to shift positions as Captain Tim docks The Drake and unmoors the dinghy. It looks like we’ve come a long way up the river already, and are going the rest of the way by rowboat. Dawn is more quiet than usual, but at least they aren’t unresponsive, since they fidget occasionally. I guess they’ve gone back to processing Aces’ death. I can tell Teuila is fighting back the thoughts of me possibly needing dragon hearts to survive. She wants to stay happy, and close to me. I’d prefer both of those things as well.

Still, there’s apparently a number of modes of locomotion attached to this dingy, oars, foot-pedal paddles, and a tiny steam engine that can power that same paddle setup. Tim was going to do the paddling for us, but, well, Teuila is Teuila. Any chance to exercise or train is plenty excuse for her to do physical activity. Tim relents. Teuila takes the reigns and we fairly rocket northwards along the river. The luma tulipa on the shores mark our path, and light the distance far enough that we can see Lake Ciao off to the west. Heh, bye to you too Aasimovia. Ciao indeed.