Sue’s consciousness was sinking into a lake of tar, the surrounding darkness growing thicker by the moment. Thicker, stronger, ever more vicious; what once was a mere absence of light turned aggressive and suffocating, filling her body with terror through its mere presence.
The pitch blackness leaped at her, tore her to shreds in a way her feeble mind could scarcely comprehend and do even less about. She trembled and tried to scream, only managing pathetic whimpers for nobody to hear—
“GRRRAAAHH!”
And then; it all stopped.
In an instant, Sue suddenly found herself at the campfire scene once more. A wall of twisting, writhing void surrounded her from all sides, held at bay by the one being she never expected to see for herself in person, or even in a dream.
His body was perfectly black, just like in the drawing she saw a few nights ago; the white of His smoke-like head and the crimson of the cowl that surrounded it contrasted greatly with the surrounding darkness. His blue eye stared straight at Sue as His outstretched arms held the seething nightmare at bay.
“RRRARGH!”
With another roar, the pitch black deity pushed the Dark Void even further back, banishing it from Sue’s mind entirely. With it gone, Sue finally noticed the changes to the all too familiar dreamscape—the extinguished campfire, the barely visible new Moon above them, and the starless sky that surrounded it.
All that, however, paled in comparison to Night Father joining her here.
He stared down at her unblinkingly, His ethereal body shifting in place as she came to. Once she’d snapped back to awareness, Sue gasped in fear, shaking as she tried to scoot further away from the ghostly Satan, to no avail. “I-it’s you, isn’t it?” she stammered, eyes wide. “N-Night Father, right?” The deity slowly nodded, not attempting to speak beyond a couple of loud grumbles, making her continue. “Wh-what are you gonna do to me? A-am I dead, or—”
A loud noise caught Sue’s attention as the dark one shook His head. The dark tendrils of His arms reached up above Him and pulled the fabric of the dreamscape apart, opening a gash through which Sue could see herself sleeping on the clinic’s bed, safe and sound.
“Not dead. Alright. S-so you’re not Satan,” she summed up, still coming to terms with everything around her. Night Father let the rift above Him close, the little Sue could make of His expression growing flatter as He shook His head. “Not Satan, okay. Wh-why are you here?”
Before she could even finish asking her question, Sue realized she was holding a page in her hand. A downward glance revealed the same drawing that Duck had presented to her a couple of nights ago, the one depicting her transformation into a Forest Guardian.
The one with a depiction of the dark deity next to an arrow connecting her two bodies, with a question mark next to it.
“I-it—She asked me whether you turned me into this, but... it wasn’t you, right? I don’t remember you,” Sue muttered, aghast. The deity affirmed her hunch with another nod, causing the page to disintegrate in Sue’s hands, its purpose complete. “W-who—what was it then?” she asked, still dumbstruck. “Do you know?”
A firm, somber shake.
It was followed by a squirmy, unpleasant sensation in the back of Sue’s head, not unlike the pain that had caused her to destroy her earlier dream in a fit of anger. Thankfully, it was neither as intense nor long lasting as what Duck had inflicted, easing out seconds later and only leaving her a bit woozy this time. She was just about to speak up before spotting something even weirder in the corner of her vision, something she wouldn't ever have expected to see in this wild world.
An antique film projector, together with an accompanying wall for it to project onto.
“...what the hell is this?”
Night Father wasted no time before showing her, gesturing towards the contraption, making it kick to life with a loud rattle. Without delay, it began to project a gray scale recollection of Sue’s memories, the last ones she could remember from Earth. A hike through the woods, sitting down to grab lunch, a bang not too far away—
And then, the replay stopped.
A pair of disembodied hands made of something that was neither light nor dark, something that Sue’s mind could only perceive as golden static, reached in to tamper with it. It pulled out the rolls of film, cutting it off at the exact point the display had stopped at, and then again, further along the recording. Afterwards, it stitched both ends together and resumed the movie at the moment of Sue waking up in her new body for the first time—while whisking the surgically removed snippet away.
“Wait, wait,” Sue gasped, hands clenching into fists, “d-did something steal my memory of what had happened!?”
A slow, somber nod.
The dreamed-up film equipment dissipated into the dreamscape, leaving Sue as confounded and unnerved as she was angry at the revelation. “Who did it!?” she yelled at nobody in particular—and, to her surprise, the skies above answered.
Suddenly, the heavens filled with figures of wildly varying shapes, sizes and grandeur, dozens upon dozens of deities—though with neither Night Father nor Duck among them. All of them awe-inspiring, all of them glorious, all of them way, way too much. Within seconds, the scene grew too overwhelming to bear, making Sue shield her eyes as she looked away. “Okay, okay, I get it! Too many suspects!”
The spectacle ended in an instant as Sue and Night Father were left alone in the dream once more, the former trying to wrap her head around everything. “S-some god took me and tossed me into this world and didn’t even let me remember what had happened. C-could it have been the Pale La—” she tried to ask, only for the dark deity to firmly shake His head in the corner of her vision, cutting that lead off. “Not Her, then. And not you, either. S-someone else.”
A defeated nod.
All both of them had learned was that neither knew what had happened or who had done it. Though, one of them knew of everyone who could have accomplished that, and was about to start mulling over them all.
And then; the second one cut Him off, her voice uncertain. “Did you... enter my dream just to confirm that?”
A quick, firm nod.
“I-I see. I...” Sue trailed off, thinking back to everything she’d seen over the past couple of days. To the creatures aligned with the deity she was interacted with spoken of in hushed, taboo tones, to Pollux being forced to hide, to Willow’s profound discomfort once the night kin were brought up—
The mystery was burning a hole in her mind.
“I have to know,” she whispered. “You are a god, right?”
Weirdly enough, Night’s Father’s reply was much more subdued this time. His head meandered around for a while before eventually settling on the world’s slowest, most reluctant nod. Bewildering as that response was in its delivery, it was ultimately affirmative, making Sue follow it up with her actual question—“What are you a god of?”
Nothing happened for a few unending minutes as Sue awaited an answer. Right as she had started to worry she had committed a divine faux pas, though, she saw His eye close—and the world around them dissolved.
The sky, the dirt, the extinguished campfire, all of them melting and shifting, until eventually, they morphed into a rudimentary chase scene. A small, dark being was running away from two massive white ones, one with massive eyes gleaming like floodlights, and the other with a blindfold and a third eye on top of its head, shining bright enough to burn the scene with a blinding glare.
Sue could barely stand the overwhelming, crippling light, forcing her to watch from between her fingers. The little dark being kept up its panicked dash, away from the light, eventually leaping into an isolated, pitch-black spot. Even as the lights approached, the spot didn’t budge, continuing to protect the small one—but that didn’t mean the bright ones wouldn’t try hurting it all the same.
The one with two eyes cast forth brilliant flames as the single-eyed one stabbed into the dark with a pure white tendril. All their attacks did was make the darkness counterattack and flood from the isolated spot, shattering the light wherever it touched and sending the intruders running away in fear, the little dark creature safe.
And then, in a blink, the scene returned to the extinguished campfire. Sue replayed the events she’d just witnessed in her mind, piecing it together as the deity beside her watched in silence. “...safety. Protection from eyes, from light, from... th-the third eye...”
A slow, firm, deliberate nod, followed by low grumbling she had no hope of understanding.
“I-I see, I think,” Sue muttered, still processing the religious vision. She thought back to the Duck’s altar, and the scenes depicted on it. One of them was a complete inversion of what she’d just witnessed, with Duck protecting a small creature from the darkness—the very same darkness she just saw protect someone.
Something wasn’t adding up, sending a shiver down her spine. “Then... what about her?” Sue asked again. “Duck, I mean—Pale Lady, or whatever...”
Night Father’s eye grew wider at her comment; the rumbling noise that left Him afterwards was probably the divine equivalent to laughter. It didn’t last long before the scene melted again, though, subjecting Sue to another vision.
The little dark creature shambled out of the black hiding spot and towards a nearby clearing, its limp and cuts around their body clearly visible. It pushed for a while before collapsing mid-step, right beneath a full Moon. The silver light bathing their body grew stronger with their every whimper, flooding the scene with cold, gentle healing. Sue watched the little one’s wounds mend right in front of her eyes, all of them becoming undone in moments.
“...healing...” she whispered, and found her attention being drawn upwards, up at the Moon.
She watched it fly through its phases as if on fast forward; the dreamscape going from pitch black to bathed in cold light, and back, and back, and back.
From the Dark’s protection.
To the Light’s mending.
The Moon, one and whole.
One and whole.
----------------------------------------
The eventual awakening that followed, many, many hours later, was by far the calmest one Sue had experienced during her stay in this world yet. Her mind floated in the liminal space between sleep and wakefulness for Duck knows how long, only interrupted by intermittent attempts at checking out her surroundings, finding the room just a bit brighter each time.
She could not have slept for more than a couple of hours, and yet... she felt surprisingly alright, though a big part of that was no doubt caused by the religious vision that kept replaying in her mind. The sights felt like they ought to be shattering her world, but… they weren’t, not really. She supposed it all only made sense like this, even if it painted everything she’d seen in Moonview in a much more confusing light.
The far more startling truth was that of her amnesia being deliberate.
Sue couldn’t even imagine who could’ve done something like that, or why. A literal divine intervention to pluck her, a woman of no remarkable qualities, from her own world, and toss her into this one. With no purpose in mind that she could figure out.
Who knows, maybe it was some long con she was unaware of. Maybe all she was supposed to do was save Spark and Pollux on that fateful day, and ended up outliving her usefulness thanks to Astra’s intervention. Maybe one day she’d see the show’s host walk out from behind the nearest corner with a camera crew behind him and inform her she was being pranked the entire time.
Maybe the god in question just thinks it’s funny.
Trying to think more about the Capricious Deity’s motivation would just make her feel even more defeated, and Sue knew that. Would she need a nap down the line after a night like that? Possibly. Was she feeling like trying to get some more rest in her current headspace? Not in the slightest.
A glance out the clinic’s window revealed the sunrise to have only barely begun. Human Sue was the furthest thing from an early bird, but she figured she could make an exception this time. She needed to clear her head, and there were few things better at that than a walk around the block, even if without any tunes to keep her company. Now to just grab the crutch, and—oh.
Sue didn’t remember her mobility device moving anywhere after she’d left it leaning against the nightstand, but, to her dismay, it had done so anyway. It was splayed out smack dab in the middle of the room, much too far for her to even attempt to reach with her good leg.
A low groan filled the cabin as she chewed through the scene, thinking about what to do. She’d have to crawl over to grab it, and she sincerely doubted her ability to stand back up on her own from a position like that. It was a long shot, but maybe the partial lesson she got yesterday would help?
Sue found herself equal parts excited and antsy at getting to make use of what Sundance tried to teach her. Getting better at the psychic magic would be great, of course, but there was also the possibility that she’d mess it up badly. Or worse, that she’d already forgotten how to do it.
Either way, there was only one way to find out, making her groan as she flipped through what she recalled of the lesson. Remembering how to use her ‘mental reach’ was one thing; re-discovering where it even sprouted from was another. Thankfully, it didn’t take her long, random probing around her brain eventually finding a spot that gave in and extended beyond the confines of her skullcap.
Good Duck, that feels so weird.
She shook off the stray thought before prodding the spot further. Her eyes involuntarily closed as her mental tentacle reached into the room, right hand twitching with its every move. She hadn’t paid that much attention yesterday, but now that she was aware of it, she couldn’t help but stop and think. If her physical arm moved whenever she’d tried to move the imagined one… could it also happen the other way around?
Carefully, Sue lifted her arm and reached toward the crutch, her motions slow and exaggerated. And indeed, her mind mimicked the motion. It wasn’t the most precise and shot way further than she’d expected it to, but she could control it like this, the realization making her sigh in relief. This was so much easier—so easy that the next part felt downright instinctual.
Her hovering hand grasped the air, shrouding the crutch’s handle in a spotty, white glow. She felt the rough, wooden surface, but had no idea where, the sensations coming from an utterly disembodied place. Once she’d secured her grip, she just pulled it towards her, almost as if she was just changing the gear.
Loud rattling of wood on wood startled Sue out of her trance, her grasp fizzled out—and once she opened her eyes, the crutch laid right in front of her.
Alright, I think I like this ‘hands’ method more than what Sundance was trying to teach me.
On the other hand… she’d never seen either the vixen or Solstice use their hands when performing their magic. Maybe there was a reason for that which she just wasn’t aware of? She hoped not, hoped she wasn’t doing it all wrong in some subtle but important way.
With any luck, she’d get to ask Solstice that very question in not too long.
Before Sue could head off to the races, she realized she hadn’t told anyone about her little walk. Not that it would normally matter, but considering her hijinks yesterday, she thought Willow especially deserved to be kept in the know.
Alright, where’d you leave all that paper you brought...
There wasn’t much space left on the page she’d soon fished out of a drawer, forcing Sue to surround her small sketch with a large black circle to draw attention to it. Almost like clickbait, but actually useful here.
Duck, that’s such a surreal thought.
A Forest Guardian stick figure, heading out of the clinic and walking between the various buildings. A straightforward drawing conveying an equally simple, yet badly needed action.
After swatting the charcoal dust off her fingers, Sue finally limped through the front entrance, finding the surrounding streets unnervingly empty. Hell, there had been more people around before she went to bed than now. A sweep with her sixth sense revealed almost every nearby soul to either be asleep, trying to fall asleep, be too focused on something to sleep, or… tossing around with a hangover. Guess they had booze here. Neat.
With no destination in mind, Sue opted to retrace the path from a couple of days ago, starting with the makeshift construction zone. Aside from the occasional bird chatter and the rustling of leaves, Moonview remained almost completely quiet as she made her way through, cold air waking her up with every step.
She had little time to focus on the state of the construction work during her escape, but it felt like the builders had made some very noticeable progress since, regardless. The foundation was almost entirely finished, with only one corner still opened up, and with the walls also similarly well underway.
Wonder how long they take to finish putting one of these up—
*chitter, chitter*
Sue jumped at the sound coming from right behind her. Once she’d calmed down enough to fumble her way into turning around, she saw its source in all their pangolin glory. As intimidating as their massive claws and brown spikes were, the accompanying emotions of modest curiosity and equally mild surprise made up for their appearance.
Left at an impasse, she opted for the default option—a nervous wave. It didn’t immediately clarify anything for either of them, but at least it gave the builder something to do in response. In hindsight, Sue realized she probably shouldn’t have chosen this specific gesture, if just because it drew even more attention to their cleaver-sized claws.
Looks were very deceiving; she knew that more and more by the hour in this wild new place, but… it’d probably be a while before she fully got over herself in that regard. Before she could give that thought more focus, though, heavy footfalls coming from nearby forced her out of her head and back to the world around her once more.
The blue bipedal rhino she saw perform on stage yesterday might’ve been a bit shorter than her, but what they lacked in height, they certainly got in heft. They were also much more outspoken than the brown pangolin, calling out towards her once they’d spotted her. Their rumbling growl was unintentionally intimidating, but the absence of any malice to go along with it prevented fear from worming further into Sue’s mind. Hell, what she did sense was the polar opposite of malice, a wellspring of genuine warmth pouring out of their growled welcome.
And If only she had any idea of what they’d just said, she could’ve tried to respond in kind. Instead, she had to settle for the next best thing. “Uh, ghood morning!” The incomprehensible sentence took both of her impromptu visitors aback, especially the blue rhino, making them pause mid-step.
Guess that’s one way to get back at them for startling me, pffft.
Confusing as her speech was, the larger of the strangers wouldn’t let it get to them. They resumed their walk as they chatted the pangolin up, the latter’s responses curt and quiet. Whatever they had just settled on clearly wasn’t their only concern, though, not with the blue performer turning towards Sue again—and almost toppling her with a few pats on her back, right next to the back spike.
Sue’s panicked scramble to remain standing got a bellowing laugh out of them, with the spiky rodent chiming in with quiet chitters. It was much less fun on her end, especially before she’d stopped her upcoming freefall, but she couldn’t deny that it made for an amusing sight, joining in on the laughter with her own giggling shortly after.
Please don’t do that again, mini-Godzilla.
Thankfully, the pangolin took the lead in the discussion afterwards, beckoning the other one over to the unfinished portion of the foundation. Tagging along for what was likely to be some sort of safety inspection didn’t sound all that bad to Sue, though she doubted she’d get much out of it without the ability to comprehend what was being said.
If nothing else, it let her see all the spikes on the rhino’s back, at least. Kinda like some dinosaurs she’d seen, and also like that one poisonous fish she’d seen in a documentary once, with all those toxic spines.
…
Please don’t be poisonous, mini-Godzilla.
Trying to scurry away from both the scene and that harrowing possibility, Sue wondered about where else to head now. Her recent dream gave her even more questions than it did answers, with many of the former tied to Moonview’s deity and Her nature.
It was time to inspect Duck’s altar again.
The monument was even more striking with only the chilly wind and early dawn’s cold light to keep her company. The central engraving of Duck underneath a full moon evoked power and demanded respect, even if the scenes being depicted were as reassuring as she’d remembered them.
The flowers that decorated the base of the three walls comprising the monument made it difficult to walk up to the stone slabs, forcing Sue to keep her distance. As much as the central scene looked like it was plucked straight out of her vision, the two engravings on the sides felt… wrong.
The chisel work was rougher, the stone had a darker finish—the artist had even used actual black paint for the dark mass that Duck fought against and protected her followers from, contrasting the entirely paint-free central illustration. The more she looked, the more confident she grew about the side illustrations being later additions. They weren’t right; they were downright tacky, as if added solely to drive a narrative—a narrative whose truthfulness Sue was growing increasingly skeptical of.
As she examined the arrangement of the monument, another observation clicked into place. The side walls were massive, but nowhere near the size of the middle one. In fact, she was quite sure they were only around—around half the central one’s size. The realization took Sue aback, and wouldn’t let go. Together, the side walls would add up to the same size as the central one; they were both made of the same kind of stone; she even swore she saw bits of dried dirt near the top of one of the side walls—
I need to check what’s on their other side.
Before Sue could move anywhere, though, a half whistled sentence caught her attention, clearly aimed at her. It was all the more startling because of its incomprehensibility, spiking Sue’s heartbeat as she turned around—
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“Oops, my bad! Good morning Sue, didn’t expect to see you up so early, or here of all places,” Solstice chuckled. Comet chimed in as well from his mom’s arms, the baby squeaks dulling some of Sue’s nerves, but not getting rid of them wholly. And, predictably, the other Forest Guardian could tell. “Are you feeling alright, Sue?”
Sue didn’t know—but what she was certain of, though, was that the monument was the one subject best not discussed with Solstice specifically. “Yesh, you—you just shurprised me. A-and I could say the same about you, it’s so early.”
Solstice giggled, “It is, indeed~. Alas, ‘an appropriate time of day to wake up at’ isn’t a concept Comet is familiar with yet, so here we are! Did you sleep well?”
Without waiting for Sue’s response, the Mayor kneeled in front of the altar. Even Comet went quieter as his mom bowed her head in prayer, the younger Forest Guardian taking the opportunity to slowly back off from the shrine and its unnerving mysteries. As Solstice wrapped up her prayer, Sue finally responded; “Yeah. Had a weird dream, but I shlept well.”
“Hah, with all that had happened yesterday, I can’t blame you one bit. Even if it all ended well, minds always just keep on churning through it all, again and again. I hope it wasn’t an unpleasant dream, at least.”
Sue answered without thinking. “Oh no, nhot at all.” She wasn’t sure whether this was a lie by omission—either way, keeping what she’d seen to herself felt like the best idea for the time being.
Thankfully, the other Forest Guardian didn’t prod the issue any further. “Wonderful. So~! Let’s grab something to eat, and then we can get started on your lesson?”
Guess with Solstice already here, there wasn’t a point in delaying her lessons. Sue itched to grow more independent around here and not have to drag someone with her just to talk. Her nod conveyed her enthusiasm, the newfound motivation pushing the underlying mystery further into the back of her mind.
“Let’s get going, then!” the Mayor cheered.
Comet appreciated the idea as much as Sue did. His loud, gurgling squeak broke both women into giggles as they headed towards the pantry. It also brought with itself a question Sue couldn’t resist asking. “How old is he?”
“Closing in on five Moons now. He grows so fast! It feels like yesterday that he would spend all day just sleeping and eating, and now look at him~! He’d be running circles around us if I let him.” Solstice squeed, the glee in her voice almost infectious. The little one in her arms wriggled at all the good vibes while the big one beside her tried not to coo at the sight.
Though… ‘five Moons’? The Lunar cycle was like 29 days or something, basically a month. And if that’s what she was referring to, it only raised more questions. “That’s sho much livelier than I’d expect a five month—I mean, five Moon old to be.”
“Oh?” Solstice perked up, genuinely confused. “Why so?”
Sue had no answer to that question. The other Forest Guardian’s surprise underlined the obvious reality of her situation, one she was guilty of not paying as much attention to as she should’ve—humanlike as they were, neither Solstice nor her son were human. Trying to apply human metrics to them was doomed to fail.
And try as she might to avoid that realization, she wasn’t human either, at least not anymore.
“Oh, never mind…” Sue muttered, distraught. She had intended to leave her response at that, but felt like should at least try to address Solstice’s confusion, “I... jusht went from memory about human b-babies...”
The other Forest Guardian slowly nodded in response, her pupil’s confusion finally making sense. She didn’t want Sue to feel self conscious about it, though, walking over closer and patting her shoulder, “It’s all good, Sue. Figures it’d be the only reference point you had. Though... you got me curious now. How old are you?”
The question caught the once-human off guard as they all entered the clearing again. Just like the rest of Moonview, the space was nearly empty, with only a handful of tables still needing to be moved back to their proper spots. Sue had little time to linger on it as the group suddenly turned the other way from their usual path, away from Poppy’s kitchen. After gathering her bearings, she stammered out, “Umm... I’m twenty-two yearsh old.”
For once, it was Solstice’s turn to get surprised.
The Mayor almost tripped over a stick as she processed Sue’s response, needing to jog for a moment to catch up afterwards. Comet had no idea where that sudden motion came from, but he liked it all the same, expressing it with a loud squeak as his mom responded, “By Moon’s Grace, I had clocked you at almost half that.”
“...what?”
The two Forest Guardians were at an impasse as they finally reached their destination, the structure so much larger than Poppy’s pantry. Its purpose was immediately clear, at least, with literal heaps of leftovers piled up underneath the canvas roof and a cook busily fixing something for the creature in front of them in line.
The fact that the cook was a humanoid, four-armed ladybug, and the other patron was a blue amphibian her size, didn’t even register as particularly noteworthy in Sue’s mind anymore. Though, with the latter having orange gills sticking out the sides of its face, she wondered how they interacted with normal air. They weren’t in any discomfort from what she could tell, and the wet sheen covering their body no doubt helped with that.
“Good morning, High Tide,” Solstice greeted, drawing the blue creature’s attention. Their blue eyes briefly scanned Sue before turning towards the Mayor. Their croaked response remained untranslated, but whatever it was, Comet enjoyed it, breaking into chipper laughter—and with him, the rest of the group, the ladybug cook included. “Next harvest starts today, doesn’t it?”
*croaaak.*
“Tomorrow, I see. Best of luck! I hope it goes smoothly!” Solstice cheered. High Tide’s reply had much more of a groan to it this time, sounding like gurgling noises mixed with wet hisses. Whatever was said, it left Solstice uncertain, but only briefly. “Sounds serious. We can discuss it tomorrow; I’ll make sure to check up by the orchard.”
With a confirmation on the amphibian’s side, the brief chat soon wrapped up. Following laying out a topic serious enough to leave Solstice concerned, High Tide then proceeded to grab the meal with their mouth before heading out; Sue left taken aback by the juxtaposition of animalistic traits and higher intelligence. Again.
Once the blue frog had left, the ladybug immediately got to preparing something for their group, without even waiting for them to ask for anything in particular. Their meal was a slapdash of several kinds of leftovers, but not in a bad way. A handful of dumplings wrapped in dry bread for the two adults, and a few spiced fruit slices and one whole dumpling for Comet, both tossed in a rudimentary oven to warm them up. It was far from Poppy’s artisanal cooking, but with how tasty it smelled once reheated, Sue’s stomach couldn’t care less.
“Much appreciated, Sunrise,” Solstice greeted, giving the cook a brief bow. “Has Astra already grabbed something today?” The ladybug thought for a moment before shaking their head, remaining silent all the while. “And yesterday? Or were you not around to see?” A couple of firm nods, followed by intricate gestures with the upper two arms. “With Joy, I know. That’s good to hear at least; she got here very late. Gonna be calling it a day soon?”
Before the bug could get too far into their gestured response, the loud crunch of Sue biting into her reheated sandwich caught everyone gathered off guard, leaving Sue frozen in place as all eyes turned to her. Thankfully, the cook didn’t let that distract them for long, soon wrapping up Solstice’s portion.
Nothing like a satisfying crunch first meal in the morning, though probably not when it’s loud enough to startle someone.
“Mhm. Hope he shows up soon, then. And until then, take care, Sunrise.”
With the cook’s two armed salute and yet another firm nod to send them off, the group could get going again. Sue was unsure which mystery she wanted to tackle first, taking a hot minute to finish chewing through her current bite before finally asking, “Sho... are they alright?”
Solstice blinked, “Oh? Yes yes, Sunrise is alright. They just can’t speak very well, so they opt for signing.”
“You have a sign language here too?”
“Mhm!” the Mayor nodded eagerly. “Not a very developed one yet, though. Sunrise’s largely been the one spearheading that effort. They’re making good progress last I’ve heard, and trying to teach it to others where they can, but it’s quite a bit harder with them being nocturnal.”
Admittedly, Sue had never really thought of language—a non-programming language at least—as something that could be created. It made sense in hindsight, though, especially with a sign language that would have a hard time naturally developing on its own. “I-I see. Hopefully, it helps them out; not being able to speak shucks.”
Solstice chuckled, “You’d know something about that, hah. Yeah, it’s been a great help for them, and it’s been great watching them teaching it to others where they can. Even minimal communication beats no communication.”
“It really, really does.”
The next stretch was spent in silence as Sue split her focus between not falling over, following Solstice, and progressing in her grand quest to eat her breakfast. Moonview’s streets were finally coming to life, sending Sue back into her own head—she had nowhere near enough spare brainpower to pay close attention to every single passerby.
That didn’t mean she didn’t pay any attention to any of them, though.
A louder, echoing hiss perked Sue up, the noise unlike any other she’d heard while making her way around. The scene waiting for her once she’d glanced at the sound’s source was… unexpected, for a reason she wouldn’t have ever guessed.
The being responsible for the hiss looked almost segmented. Its body was split between a dark brown bulbous lower half with glowing, suspiciously face-like cutouts, and a lighter upper half, culminating with a small face with a few plumes of orange hair.
Prehensile orange hair, because of course it was prehensile.
As weird as this… entity was, the other one was more eye-catching, if for very different reasons. Despite being entirely made of leaves, petals, and plant bulbs, they were one of the most human-like beings Sue had seen yet, as far as shape went at least. Thick legs, a pear-shaped torso, a face without an immediately visible mouth, and a blooming flower on top of their head at a bit of an angle. Their arms being singular, long leaves and the silly yellow… shoes sure made Sue do a double take, though.
Half plant, half lady, and all… cute.
As pleasant as the sight was, Sue soon grew confused at hearing the two creatures argue about something. Ghastly hisses and rustles of leaves mixed in with smooth, sing-song whistling, their subject incomprehensible—or, at least, that’s what Sue thought before one of them pointed their arm straight at her, followed by the other one. They were still arguing with each other, and from what she could pick up from their emotions, it felt like the glowing face was egging the plant lady on about something, much to the latter’s embarrassment. But if so, what about—
!
The shift in the mood was palpable enough to give Sue whiplash as she focused on the duo again—the duo that was now staring back at her. For a split second, she worried about them taking her attention negatively, which… was the case, but not in the way Sue could’ve ever imagined.
Hisses turned into ghastly giggles as the hissing pumpkin laughed at the plant person’s burning embarrassment, the emotion downright visible on their cheeks. Before Sue could even react, the walking plant acted first, grabbing their buddy by a lock of orange hair before running off into the distance with them, towards what Sue suspected to be the local farm.
It took Solstice circling around after realizing that Sue had frozen at some point to finally shake her out of her shock. She had no idea what had just happened, and whether it was mean-spirited. She wanted to think that it wasn't, but… there was always that uncertainty, the sort that soon turned her thoughts sour the more she lingered on this subject.
Thinking about this won’t help me, but… ugh. Am I that much of a joke here already? No, not now, let’s think about something else instead.
“So, for humans, the age of adulthood is eighteen years old. What about the F-Forest Guardians?” Sue asked, wanting to distract herself. Despite how simple she had thought her question to be, it made Solstice think much more than she’d expected, and as she did, Sue felt some of her own thoughts being gently prodded.
The other Forest Guardian tried to figure out just what was the hard thing to understand here, looking curiously at her student before finally stumbling on a lead, the half-eaten sandwich in her mouth forcing her to use telepathy instead. “^There isn’t a set age. It’s when one evolves into their final form, the one we share. It happens at around eleven to thirteen years old.^”
There’s that word again.
“What doesh ‘evolving’ mean?”
As surprised as Solstice was at Sue’s actual age earlier, it paled compared to her shock at this particular question. Her eyes were wide as saucers as she blinked at Sue, finishing her bite and opening her mouth a couple times as if to speak—but no words came out. Solstice’s confusion was downright palpable, her pupil’s lack of knowledge about something so basic slamming her across the cranium. “Do—do you really not know?”
“No!” Sue raised her voice, partly in exasperation and partly in concern. “I’ve heard it mentioned a few timesh, and was meaning to ask th-this whole time.”
Solstice worked through her shock as she gave more thought to it all—seems the assumptions about how the other’s world worked went both ways. “Hmm. I… I have to admit that I’m just as confused as you are, Sue. Confused and more than a little curious, but that all can wait until lunch. Will make for a nice reward after practicing for a bit, doncha think? Until then, we’re there.”
The conical, rugged tent stood out from the rest of Moonview. Blue geometric markings covered its lower half, not unlike the ones on Solstice’s arms and face, while the upper, narrower part depicted the phases of the Moon. The Mayor pulled open the flap acting as the front entrance and gestured for her guest to come in, Sue gawking as she absorbed it all.
The inside was nowhere near as dim as Sue expected it to be without any windows. The thinner canvas closer to the top let a surprising amount of early sunlight in, letting her see everything clearly. A handful of thick rugs made for a welcome sensation for her feet after all the dirt, grass, and naked wood of the past few days.
A low-set, extinguished firepit took the center spot, surrounded with the world’s shortest fence to act as baby proofing, presumably. A small cauldron stood above it, Sue’s quick peek determining it to be empty.
“Alas, nothing in the pot,” Solstice giggled. “I made sure to empty it before our trip to Central City, lest it spoil. Haven’t had the time to refill it yesterday. Wonder if we—” she abruptly cut herself off, her mood suddenly faltering. Before Sue could ask if everything was alright, Solstice brushed it off, shaking her head at nobody in particular. “N-nevermind. Take a seat Sue, anywhere is fine.”
A handful of raised surfaces lined the edges of the tent. One of them, presumably Solstice’s bed, was marked off with a curtain and was much more plush than the rest. The others didn’t look all that different aside from looking rather barren. Regardless of whether they were couches or indeed spare beds, Sue took a seat on the smaller one, with Solstice taking the one opposite.
Sue could’ve sworn she saw her mentor’s expression twist into a grimace for just a split second before it returned to normal. Before she could ask if there was anything wrong, or even think through what had just happened, Solstice spoke up first. “Wonderful. Ready for your lesson?”
As ready as I’ll ever get.
“Swell! Let’s start with the obvious. How much do you already know?” Solstice asked, carefully lowering Comet down onto the carpeted floor. The tyke’s immediate reaction was aimless, excited waddling before he inadvertently circled back around to his mom—and plopped down as he and his mom felt Sue concentrate.
Sue’s mental handiwork was nowhere near as difficult to make sense of the third time around, thankfully. It only took her a few attempts to reach out with the extension of her mind, the invisible tentacle moving along with her physical arm until it had grasped the crutch, a white light immediately spreading to cover the tool’s entire handle.
She clenched her eyes even tighter as she tried moving the tool around, almost standing it up—only for it to slip out of her grasp. Her glow fizzled out as she opened her eyes, just in time to see the crutch fall back down onto the carpeted floor—and loudly catch her breath, not realizing how exerted even such a simple action had left her until she was done with it.
“Th-that’s—*pant*—that’s it, bashically.”
Solstice replied with a slow nod as she thought through what Sue had shown. It all only confirmed what she already knew—her guest was almost completely new to this in a way that felt downright disturbing considering her age. Still, it’s not like Sue lacked the ability, merely the practice and know how, and both of them she could provide in spades. “Alright~! What about telepathy?”
Sue shook her head, “Shundance d-didn’t have the t-time to show it to me too well.”
“Let’s start with that then, if that’s alright.”
“It ish. She mentioned a couple of things, something about mental links, but only briefly.”
“I imagine that was a tricky part for you?” Solstice leaned forward.
“I... yesh,” Sue sighed, unsure how the other Forest Guardian knew that, but she was right.
She wordlessly closed her eyes as she thought back to what she recalled of Sundance’s lecture, the instructions to focus on her sixth sense and home in on it, beyond just the surface-level emotion sensing. And, as opposed to her earlier attempt, it felt like she was succeeding this time, even if she was left with little idea of what to do afterwards.
“^That’s a start, but it won’t work as well with many others around,^” Solstice spoke up telepathically, her gentle voice echoing in Sue’s mind. “^You’ll have to learn how to tune the noise of emotions out. It takes a lot of practice, but even just doing it unskillfully will help a lot going forward. Lemme—^”
The sensation of another mental reach interfering with her own made Sue jump in her seat. Her eyes blipped open for a moment, only to spot Solstice and Comet focusing along with her. She shook that distraction shortly afterwards, once more withdrawing into her extrasensory perception and trying to pay attention to what her mentor was doing. Her expression twitched as the foreign aura touched her innermost sense, pushing the burning glare of the surrounding emotions much further away.
And with those tuned out, Sundance’s instructions from the previous day made much more sense; the actual blips of consciousness she was supposed to link to now made clear. Solstice’s was busy reaching out all the way over to her while Comet’s was... all over the place.
Their forms didn’t translate well to the visual senses at all. ‘Amoeba-shaped’ was the closest term Sue could think of, but even that was only an extremely crude approximation. Regardless of how they didn’t look, Sue had them in her mental sight. Her hand and the mental extremity bonded to it reached towards Solstice, closer and closer—
And then, the Mayor withdrew her help with tuning the emotions out, their blinding glare returning in an instant and breaking Sue’s concentration. A harsh grimace twisted her expression as she winced and flinched backwards, her lead completely lost.
“^Keep your composure,^” Solstice instructed. “^Follow what I did there.^”
It was much easier said than done, but Sue at least had the vaguest idea of how to do it. She tried to replicate her mentor’s actions by feel, and even if the end result was nowhere near as effective at turning out the surrounding emotions, it at least gave her some breathing room. It also made her inadvertently stick her left arm out to the side, her body replicating the push-like sensation to a too literal degree.
With nearby feelings somewhat tuned out, Sue finally went for it again. Her mental reach closed the remaining distance between herself and Solstice with one swift motion, moving as if about to jab her consciousness—
“Ugh!”
And judging by her pained grunt, that’s literally what might’ve just happened.
The sound and the muted sensation of pain that accompanied snapped Sue back to awareness. She snapped her eyes open, worriedly looking at Solstice—and growing dumbfounded at the unexpected position her arms were in. Fortunately, despite the older Forest Guardian’s wince, her pain was very brief. Some further rubbing of her temples drove the last of it away as she spoke back up, trying to soften her expression and voice. “I’m alright Sue, I’m alright, don’t worry.”
“I-I’m so shorry, what’d I do?” Sue asked, worry refusing to leave her.
“You used too much force. I know it’s hard with so little control over it, but you really have to keep a firm grasp on what you’re doing with your aura, or you run the risk of accidentally hurting someone. This was just a small Confusion, unlikely to cause more than a headache at the worst case, but the more practice you get, the stronger your aura will become, and the more it can hurt people.”
Oh, fuck.
Sue hadn’t thought of herself as someone physically capable of hurting anyone else here, but Solstice was right. Deep down, she might’ve been a human, but her body was of this world, one with no less strength than anyone else here, merely with no practice—practice that the realization made her even more keen to get.
She nodded intently, “I-I see. Do I try that again?”
“Yes, go ahead. Though I’ve got to say, I’ve never seen anyone use their hands while using their psychics as much as you have.”
“Oh,” Sue blinked, suddenly much more self-conscious. She forcibly rested her hands on her lap as if she’d just been caught cheating, embarrassment twisting her face.
Embarrassment that wasn’t intended by Solstice in the slightest, leaving her surprised with no idea of what had just happened. “What’s wrong?”
Sue asked, confused, “Wh—sh-shouldn’t I not be doing that?”
“No?” Solstice answered, uncertain about the source of Sue’s hangup. Still, more elaboration wouldn’t hurt. “If it helps, then keep doing that. Everyone has their own tricks to help them control their aura better, after all. Sundance’s wand isn’t just for show, hah. If moving your hands around makes it easier for you, then that’s all the reason in the world to keep using them. Maybe you can try to get better at using your psychics without that help down the line, but only if that’s something you feel you need to improve at.”
Sue felt relief fill her body at that framing, letting out a breath she wasn’t even aware she was holding. “I see. I-I thought it was just a—a crutch of sorts, shomething that’d make it unfairly easier.”
“Easier, absolutely—that’s the entire point, after all. But unfairly so? I don’t even know how you’d come to that conclusion. The goal is to grow more independent by honing your psychics. Who cares about how you accomplish that, or if you do it differently than others? I don’t see why anyone would judge you for that—and if anyone ever does, it’s none of their business,” Solstice reassured, beaming at her student. “Nothing wrong with using a crutch, no matter what form it takes.”
A crutch that her teeny son was busy inspecting as the two adults spoke, squeaking softly as he patted the wooden tool’s surface.
After a few moments for her to get her thoughts under control, Sue finally responded. “Thank you, Solstice.”
“You’re welcome, Sue.”
Sue watched the older Forest Guardian’s smile grow that much warmer at her reassurance working out. She spotted her hand moving on her lap in a petting motion—and felt the matching sensations on her shoulder moments later; the mental touch was no less warm and reassuring than the physical one.
“Though, I can’t deny being rather curious,” Solstice began, catching Sue’s attention. “Your previous kin, the ‘humans’. They—uh, you—must use your hands a lot, right?”
The question initially took Sue off guard, but… the answer was overwhelming in how trivial it was. Sue nodded firmly before answering, “All the time, for everything.”
“Figures you find it easy to use them, then! So much of your subconscious mind must be devoted to knowing how to control them, that it’s easiest for other things to map onto them. Hope the Forest Guardian hands are a suitable replacement at least, hah.”
The remark made Sue focus on her new hands. They were… weird, and she didn’t enjoy looking at them, especially at their weirdly proportioned, pointy fingers and the lack of fingernails.
Guess they’re usable enough in the end.
“They’re... okay.”
Solstice didn’t expect her pupil’s response to be so frank, leaving her equal parts amused at the honesty and sorry for Sue for not enjoying her new body. She didn’t outwardly display either of those emotions, though, redirecting the topic back to the lesson at hand instead. “In any case—let’s get back into the swing of things, hmm?”
Sue was not opposed to that idea in the slightest, pushing everything else out of her mind as she re-focused on the exercise ahead of her, hands involuntarily rising to move in tandem with her mental reach.
“Try what you did last time, just slower,” Solstice instructed. “Take as long as you need, Sue.”
Let’s do this.
Sue heeded her advice, tuning the surrounding emotions out with slower, more deliberate actions. Once the mindscape wasn’t blindingly bright anymore, she extended her aura in Solstice’s direction, keeping at it until it finally made contact with the other Forest Guardian’s aura. The sensation felt less so like touching and more like… intertwining, unlike anything Sue had ever felt and yet so, so very right at the same time.
Even in her focus, Sue felt the pride blooming in her mentor, the faint whispers of thoughts she could now overhear matching that emotion.
“^Great! Now—back—again!^” Solstice beamed, her words choppy as they traversed through the link between their minds, reminding Sue of a bad satellite connection.
Sentences were chopped up into individual words, leaving most of the meaning intact, but not all of it. The quality of the communication was a concern for another time—right now, all Sue wanted was to get better at the one thing she’d pulled off.
Without even needing to be prompted, the once-human withdrew mentally all the way back before starting again, repeating the entire routine a bit faster this time. And then she did it again, and again, Solstice soon not even needing to guide her anymore as she watched her pupil practice.
Comet just squeaked in confusion, finding the repetitive mental motions comforting and wanting to feel more of them. It didn’t take long until Sue had tried connecting to him, too. His aura was much more lively, requiring Sue to either chase it a bit or slow down to not impact it too harshly. The tyke was oblivious to her struggles, just giggling happily at every successful connection. His mom wasn’t as amused, keeping a hand on the pulse of Sue’s training to make sure no accidents would happen. Soon enough, though, the young Forest Guardian had more of it under control than Solstice could’ve ever hoped for, her pride glowing brighter and brighter.
It’s so comforting.
“^Wanna switch over to telekinesis for a bit?^” Solstice asked excitedly, interrupting her pupil’s umpteenth repetition. Sue opened her eyes and nodded at her beaming mentor, not opposed to changing tracks for a while. As she took a moment to grab her bearings, feeling the full intensity of her mentor’s joy washing over her with nothing to muffle it anymore, Solstice whisked Comet away and moved her crutch before her once more.
With her breath caught, Sue focused again, both of her hands shifting and turning as she directed her aura to the tool in front of her. Her first attempt might’ve only dragged the crutch along the carpeted floor, but that changed as Sue kept trying it, pushing her telekinesis that bit harder each time. Her mental muscles soon began to complain in exertion as she tried to think the piece of wood into the air—but she had something better in mind for them to do than rest.
Sue’s hands grasped the air as her mental reach grasped the crutch again and again, the accompanying white glow growing larger and larger each time. In not too long, she’d finally managed to lift a part of the tool off the ground, if only for a moment before exertion forced her to let go of it again.
“That’s it, that’s it, keep going!” Solstice encouraged, bringing Sue’s motivation to an all-time high as she forced herself through the repetitions.
Each attempt pushed her limits that bit further, and even if it was only a literal millimeter each time, it all added up. And all along, her mentor kept cheering for her with words and emotions alike, keeping her going even if she would’ve long since stopped on her own because of exhaustion.
This feels right, this feels so right!
“You can do it, sweetie, just that bit stronger!”
*squeak!*
Sue smiled that bit wider at Comet joining in on the cheers, the added bit of motivation pushing her even further as her hands shook more and more with each go. She would need a break soon, but not before getting this thing in the air first—no shot she wouldn’t.
I got this.
“Just a bit more! Grasp as hard as you can!”
Sue did as instructed, the surrounding joy bathing her in rejuvenating warmth, letting her push herself even harder, even further. Her arms shook as her hands bundled into fists, the entirety of her mind focused on this singular task. At last, she grasped the crutch with all her strength, finally surrounding all of it with her aura as it took to air, her eyelids snapping open as she witnessed her own accomplishment. Jubilant pride filled her at the sight, even as hard as it was to make out through all the light emanating from her eyes.
And then, it all shattered in an instant.
“You did it Aurora, you did—*gasp*!”
The celebratory atmosphere disappeared as if a switch had been flicked; Solstice’s pride immediately replaced with a harrowed, shameful realization. The whiplash shattered Sue’s focus, the bang of her crutch hitting the floor startling both her and Comet as they stared at Solstice in worry. Sue gasped, “Solstice, what’s—”
“I-I-I’m so sorry.”
Solstice’s voice was little more than a whimper as Sue’s crutch was hovered up into her reach before, moments later, she felt the Mayor’s psychics forcibly move her back onto her legs, pushing her towards the tent’s entrance. She barely held her balance, shouting—“Solstice, wh-what’s going on!?”
But there was no response.
Sue’s last glance at her mentor saw a tortured, tearful expression, one too ashamed to look back at her even as it forced her out of the tent, making her almost fall over there and then. She felt Solstice’s grief cling to her, its sheer torrent forcing tears out of her. She was startled, panicking, worried whether the Mayor was alright, and terrified beyond words at the possibility that she’d caused this.
“S-Solstice...”, she whimpered, voice catching in her throat as tears flowed on. All she heard from the inside of the tent were heavy sobs and Comet’s quiet cries, the little one now sad together with his mom.
It was too much, their shared despair leaving Sue barely able to keep upright. She was exhausted, completely on her own at the wood’s edge, with no idea of where she even was, and with nobody that could understand her around.
Abandoned.
She felt irrational anger drip into her mind at that thought, expression turning into a scowl at feeling betrayed. It didn’t take long until that too burned out into more sadness, though, sadness that only exhausted her further. With nothing else left to do, she grasped the crutch’s handle as tight as she could still manage, shaking in exertion as she turned to face Moonview again and began her slow trek back.
Feeling so,
utterly,
alone.