Deon hopped from the lowest of the softwood branches and touched down on the ground. Skrili landed beside him, having jumped from much higher up in the tree.
“Morning,” Deon greeted as they began their way towards Skip’s hut. “How’d you sleep?”
She shrugged.
“Let me guess: my snoring?”
“No,” Skrili said plainly.
Even given the open invitation to pick on him, she didn’t take it.
Deon took a deep breath. He gave up on the pretense of his usual energetic demeanor. There was no way around what they’d just experienced the day before.
“Yeah…I didn’t sleep super well, either,” he said honestly. “I was up thinking about…you know.”
“Same.”
After Skrili had shared her visions at the cliff the day before, neither knew what to say. Still, even when Skrili’s second vision matched Deon’s almost exactly, he couldn’t bring himself to tell her he’d seen it, too.
He didn’t even want to comprehend it: Skrili holding a lifeless Lammy in her tear-covered arms.
Why?
Instead, they had remained mostly silent until Skip had come to giddily announce dinner was ready. It was even more delicious than their lunch, this time a build-your-own sandwich arrangement. But even this didn’t raise their morale.
All the while, Skip kept acting like everything was fine. Deon knew Skip had noticed their ghostly demeanor—so why didn’t he address it? Wasn’t he their mentor?
Deon and Skrili approached the clearing to Skip’s humble yard, practically dragging their feet.
“When Skip said the cliff ‘interprets our future…’” started Deon. “…He had to be messing with us, right? That’s not a thing…right?”
“I hope not,” came Skrili’s somewhat distant reply. “But interpretation and deeper meanings are what define Fiction Country. So…it’s definitely possible.”
Deon tried to block the images out of his mind, but they just wouldn’t go away. It was like a mental stain. He had to distract himself, and he hoped whatever Skip had in store today would be able to accomplish that.
“Well—let’s try not to dwell on it today, alright?” he decided, in another attempt to return to his cheerier self. “Today, I want you to teach me how the heck you kick so fast!”
Skrili glanced at him, but returned her eyes to the ground. “Okay,” she finally agreed.
Stepping into Skip’s yard, they found him standing directly in the center, as laid-back as ever. He dressed exactly like the afternoon before—only in different colored gym shorts.
“Welcome! Nice and early, just like we agreed: that’s what I like to see,” Skip said.
Deon and Skrili both attempted to greet him back, but it came out more like dronish groans.
Skip seemed to either not notice or ignore their lack of enthusiasm. “Alright, day three! I hope you’re ready to be put to work. But first…” he flipped two thumbs up. “Who would like to go for a nice morning jog?”
“NOT US!!!!!!” Deon immediately bellowed.
“Aw, come on, now,” said Skip. “It’ll be the exact same route we did yesterday, so it’ll be easy!”
Deon and Skrili stared at him unblinkingly.
But Skip had already moved into his first pre-run stretches. “Come on, guys—we can’t get to the rest of the day until we get a good jog in.”
Will the rest of the day also involve heartbreaking, nightmare-giving visions, too? Deon thought dismally.
But within minutes, the trio was stretched and embarking on their run. Deon and Skrili reluctantly followed Skip back into the woods, along the same exact trail as before.
The team kept falling behind their teacher in a vain attempt to put off their arrival to the cliff. But every time they did, Skip would turn and encourage them along. The crisp air gradually welcomed more sunlight, warming up their path.
With every step, Deon hoped Skip would for some reason veer off on another path or tell them it was time to head back. Instead, they grew closer and closer to their fears.
And a short while into their jog, they returned to the dreaded cliff. They ran up the slight incline, and onto the narrow trail between a tree-covered hill and an endless pit.
The temperature cliff seemed uninfluenced by the time of day. It was equally as cold as the day before, and felt just as lifeless.
Please no weird fog this time, PLEASE no weird fog this time…Deon begged.
But the cliff didn’t adhere to his prayers. He felt an icy humidity fill the air, and then, the fog encompassed them all once more.
Deon felt his heart drop as Skrili and Skip vanished into the gray mist.
Then, the whispers returned.
When Deon fearfully looked back over the cliff, there they were again: the mouthless, gray versions of his mother, father, Uncle Adon, and Aunt Ergi. Savannah took form behind them just as gradually as last time, her faded yellow dress being the only source of color in the group.
“Not this again…” Deon moaned.
“You really wanted to do something special, but you were special enough for us,” said his father in the exact same delivery.
“Was home not enough for you?” his mother asked.
“I don’t know what’s going on, but we already went over this!” Deon told them.
“Deon, sweetie, you belonged here,” said Aunt Ergi.
“It’s true, kiddo,” Uncle Adon added.
“Guys, stop!” pleaded Deon. “I don’t want to deal with—”
“Why do you think we didn’t want you to leave Tailpiece?” everyone repeated. Then, yet again, the group turned and glanced at Savannah for a moment, before returning their attention to him.
Savannah shrugged and twisted away from them.
Deon shook his head, blinked a thousand times, and did whatever he could think of to escape this dark dream. But regardless, his family and loved ones were still there.
“You don’t belong out there. You don’t have what it takes. But now, you don’t belong home either,” they recited.
“Just STOP! Enough! I don’t want to deal with this!” Deon shouted.
At last, they all began to vanish. He was left alone, and that same unfamiliar utterance filled the air all around:
“You’ll see…”
Deon tried speeding up. The faster he got out of the fog, maybe the sooner the visions would end. Maybe he could avoid the second one altogether: the one Skrili shared. The most dreadful thing he’d ever seen.
But his legs felt like nothing. It was like his body was operating automatically, in the same steady jog as when he’d entered. He had no control over his speed or direction.
Deon avoided returning his eyes to the cliff. But out of the corner of his vision, he saw two apparitions fade into existence. He slammed his eyes shut.
We’re not doing this, he thought, heart pumping.
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“Do you want to be just like me?” came Skrili’s voice nonetheless.
Once he heard her, the exact same image appeared despite his closed eyes. It had invaded his mind. He couldn’t escape it.
The black-eyed, smiling Skrili cradled her dead brother in her arms.
“Stop!” shouted Deon. “Leave me alone!”
“You want to be just like me. But…you’re not ready.”
“STOP!”
“It’s just like your mother said: a loving person fights even if they can’t save someone. Sometimes, you won’t be able to save someone. And you won’t be ready for—”
“STOP!!”
But Deon couldn’t escape it. In his mind’s eye, Skrili’s smile and mouth disappeared, and she began crying. Now, a lifeless, pale Lammy was in her arms.
“You’ll never be ready,” she shared chokingly.
“I DON’T WANT TO BE!!” cried Deon.
Finally, the visions yielded to his pleas. The mental images went dark, so cautiously, Deon reopened his eyes. He was still in the fog, but the apparitions were gone at last.
“You’ll see…soon enough,” came Skrili’s lingering whisper.
Deon felt his whole body relax as soon as he saw the fog letting up. He regained control of his body and saw Skip and Skrili running ahead of him again.
It was the exact same thing as last time, Deon noted, gritting his teeth. Why is he putting us through this again?
Skip jogged, unbothered, as Deon followed him and Skrili back into the woods. All the while, Skrili kept her focus forward.
Neither of the two teammates spoke for the remainder of their run.
~
Deon crashed to his knees in the grassy front yard, and Skrili sat gasping across from him.
“It’s always a little tougher getting through that run in the morning—the cold air just makes me stiff!” shared Skip, still on his feet and full of life. “But now we’re warmed up for a great training day, wouldn’t you say?”
“I’m not talking to you,” Deon mumbled.
Skip laughed. “What’s with the attitude?”
“Why did you make us go through that again?” Deon pressed. “What’s the point of forcing us to—”
“Anyways, make sure you guys hydrate and stretch again. I’m gonna go whip up some smoothies to energize us for what I have next,” instructed Skip, completely ignoring Deon’s complaint as he turned to walk away.
“Hey!” Deon called.
But before Deon could even continue, Skip was already at the front door.
“Oh, and discuss what you saw again with each other,” he added without looking back. He closed the door behind him.
Deon and Skrili’s eyes met. Deon tried not to show it when he felt that strange aura from her reappear.
“Same visions as last time?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Same.”
Deon assumed Skip wanted them to discuss it further than that, but there didn’t seem to be much else to address.
I should just tell her about my second vision, he thought. It was just like hers—that just seems…odd.
But still, he couldn’t do it.
If he acknowledged it, that made it more real. And he didn’t want to face it.
“I still don’t get what he’s up to. This just feels like torture,” Deon said.
Instead of responding, Skrili suddenly stood. She took a sip from her bottle and tossed it to the side. Then, she aimed at the air and jabbed a lightning-fast kick.
“What are you doing?” Deon wondered.
“You said you wanted to learn how I kick,” she said. “Stand up. I’ll teach you.”
Deon joined, confused at first, until he realized he wasn’t the only one trying to block the visions out of his mind.
Skrili took her instructions step-by-step, first with the starting position. Already, while she slowly demonstrated the graceful, whip-like movement of her leg in slow motion, Deon faced a challenge. Her balance was unyielding, while he kept stumbling. But soon, he was able to mirror this introductory form.
Then, the real practice began as Skrili sped up her movement. Deon was surprised: it was so simple, yet as he’d seen in her fights, so precise and consistent that the result was devastating.
As they soon realized, much of Skrili’s technique for this attack relied on her body type and size. While Deon was slender like her, it wasn’t enough to simply mirror her exact style.
They spent the rest of this miniature session gradually altering Skrili’s kick to work for him through trial and error of different, precise motions. By the time Skip reemerged with soft pink smoothies in hand, Deon felt they’d gotten it to a point he could start building upon.
“Already back to work,” Skip noted with a laugh. “Alright, I won’t keep you waiting any longer.”
Honestly, I’m fine with putting off whatever you have in mind at this point…Deon thought begrudgingly.
“After smoothies, let’s get back to it,” said Skip. “How about we tackle some team techniques?”
“FINALLY!!” Deon bellowed before he could stop himself. “I mean—cool, sounds good.”
~
Fueled by the fruity—yet oddly spicy—homemade smoothies, the group stood in the center of Skip’s yard. He instructed Deon and Skrili to stand facing each other, with about twenty footsteps between them. Skip stood off to the side between them to observe.
“So like I said after we fought,” started Skip, “I noticed you two fight completely independently. Despite your shared goal, you split up and rely on your own solo skills—no communication, no collaboration. And the result: really sloppy.”
Despite the blunt honesty, Deon welcomed the criticism like long-awaited sunlight. Finally, they were actually going to work on their fighting. This was the part he’d been expecting the whole time.
“You’re a team, guys. There’s two of you,” said Skip. “So today, we’re gonna run some drills to get your collaborative combat going. And I’ve seen enough to know we’re gonna need to start at square one. Skrili, hold out your hands.”
She did so.
“Deon, you’re big on imagining projectiles and small objects, right? Imagine something into Skrili’s hands.”
“Oh—sure.”
Deon focused on Skrili while she waited for him.
Well I can’t make something lame and easy—the Legend Trainer’s watching, he figured.
Recalling as many intricate details as he could, Deon imagined the mini version of Twitchy. Then, he brought the squirrel monster into existence just above Skrili’s arms, and dropped it smoothly into her hands. She caught it with no trouble.
For extra detail, Deon made the squirrel’s beady eyes glance up at her and blink.
Skrili’s face reddened slightly as she met its gaze, unsure how to react.
“It’s…really fluffy,” she finally uttered.
Deon laughed.
“Okay, so we can handle that, at least—Deon’s not a total noob,” Skip evaluated. “Good, let’s jump a few steps, then.”
From there, Skip ordered them to each move back a few steps. He made Deon imagine the same Twitchy again, only in front of himself, and to mentally toss it to Skrili. Deon knew this would be a problem: he’d only ever launched attacks in an effort to hit a target—not to pass something to one.
He tried starting slow, and the Twitchy hovered forward almost unnoticeably. Deon attempted to accelerate it—but, still so used to projectile attacks, his mind sent Twitchy lunging at Skrili. She ducked, avoiding it just in time.
“Uh…whoops. Sorry…” Deon called over.
“That’s what I was expecting,” said Skip. “Again.”
The second time started out better, only to end in Skrili diving to the side when Twitchy darted forward at the last second.
“Again.”
Deon stayed confident: he was getting better each time. After eleven more tries, he pulled it off. It was still a fast one, so Skrili had to clutch it tight and slid back from the force, but they did it. Their efforts only smoothened each time after that.
Skip advanced the training. Next, he instructed Deon to aim at different points for Skrili to run to and catch the Twitchy. Deon had to call it out, and then fire. With an already tight aim thanks to Lammy’s training, and now with his speed under control, this next tier came much quicker. Meanwhile, Skrili had no trouble keeping up, sprinting, flipping, and sliding as needed.
Then, Skip told him to stop calling out the catching points. And after that, Skrili needed to not only catch the Twitchy’s, but throw them back in the same motion.
Basic and repetitive as this drilling felt, it was already yielding clear results. Deon was starting to see how this could unfold into a whole variety of team attacks. His mind raced with ideas.
Skip kept them on this stage the longest: the duo played catch with an imagining attack, continuously, for over an hour. Skip allowed them a water break, and then they were right back at it.
Deon slid stomach first against the grass near Skip, just missing the Twitchy Skrili had thrown.
“Sorry,” she said.
Deon had launched a high toss, so Skrili had attempted to jump straight up, perform a backflip, and use the momentum to pass the Twitchy right back to him in a swift movement.
They were both stretching each other, diving right into complex techniques.
“We’ll get it,” Deon said, shoving off the ground and back to his feet energetically.
Skrili nodded in agreement, prepared to continue.
“To answer your question,” Skip suddenly said to Deon, “there’s a purpose for going back to the cliff.”
Deon paused to look at him. They’d left that topic alone since morning, and he’d hoped it would stay that way.
But maybe it was time for answers.
“Really? Doesn’t feel like it so far,” he said, wiping his sweaty forehead.
“Facing your worst fears is something everyone needs to do in order to grow,” said Skip. “Most people go through something that personal on their own. But the best consciousness teams are different—they have to be.”
Skrili shifted out of her ready-stance, now listening closely.
“You have to face your fears together. Skrili’s fears are yours now, Deon, and vice-verse. I told you to share what you saw with each other for that reason. You need to understand each other, and you need to help one another. It’s the farthest thing from easy, but the process will make you grow so much closer. And that’s infinitely more valuable than cool fighting moves.”
Deon and Skrili glanced at each other quick, and guilt set in. Today, they’d done the opposite of Skip’s instruction: they completely avoided the topic.
“We’ll be jogging back to the cliff every single day, for the rest of our training,” Skip told them. “Your task is to help each other overcome your fears. Be there for each other. In a sense, it’s the exact same exercise as the drills we’re running right now: it takes communication, and collaboration.”
In the silence that followed, Deon could hear the distant waterfall.
“Sound like a plan?” Skip asked with a reassuring smile.
They both nodded.
“Perfect. Alright, back to the drills.”
Deon and Skrili tried shaking themselves back into their former intensity. They started small, those ghostly visions once again staining their thoughts. When Deon caught Skrili’s eye, he could feel that same strange essence around her, only several times stronger now.
After a few more minutes, a curiosity dawned on Deon. He jumped to catch a Twitchy Skrili had rapidly returned to him, and then turned to Skip again.
“Teacher,” Deon began.
“Skip is fine.”
“Okay, Skip: can I ask you something?”
Skip shrugged. “Sure thing. What’s up?”
“What do you see when we go to the cliff?” Deon asked.
For the first time, Skip’s carefree demeanor faded for just a second. He put his hands in his suit pocket.
“How about we save that for another time,” was all he said.