EVERYTHING WAS A TRADE; EVERYTHING WAS A COMPROMISE.
It didn’t matter that Myst had returned or that Trey and the Sling-ravens were supporting him or that the [Possessed Guardian] had taken its first lumbering steps. Triumph was achieved in significant ways.
But sorrow always came first. It stole one’s vision and feelings. When the gloom was big enough, it became everything.
And so Swishy was hyper-focused on his loss first, that which had slipped from the bonds of his body and soul. Swishy had lost much of his insides but his gains bloomed outward. Still, he couldn’t look past his inner turmoil. His soul boiled. It ached. It hardened and cracked. Swishy was so spectacularly doomed that his full attention was captivated by his wreckage.
Even though his consciousness was distributed among his Swish sprites, ensconced within the Myst's warp realm, he was still affected by the outer stimuli. His collective vision was drawn from his dolls and gathered into a single point of view: his heart.
The boy’s heart was in Ruby’s grasp, pulsing against her supple flesh.
When his focus adjusted, Swishy saw the witch’s face. His heart hammered faster and faster, panicked from the closeness to Ruby’s blood and aura.
Swishy’s soul cowered as Ruby raised his heart, inspecting it, turning it over, handling it with the casualness of an apple. He felt the pressure of her fingers, the dragging of her nails, the ridges in her fingerprints.
Swishy, once more, had lost another heart to Ruby, this time more violently than before.
And so the sorrow seared every part of him. Swishy wasn’t in the heart chamber but that was his body, therefore, the phantom link with his heart stole all his attention.
No, no! My home! Our heart! Give it back!
“Now what should I use you for, I wonder.”
You already know! Swishy thought as loudly as he could.
“I do know, yes.”
Swishy faltered at her invasion of his mind.
“When you are given seeds, you plant trees. You give back to the Cearth. You spread life far and wide.” Her gestures were sweeping and grandiose. Swishy knew she meant to create more trees, to take over more land—one heart at a time. With each heart lost, he imagined another High Chasm, another version of the wrathraven nest, another place with staked scarecrows that’d mistakenly placed their faith and fates in Ruby.
And then Ruby continued her explanation with something he hadn’t quite expected. “This is also my next step into Heaven.”
Heaven?
“I know I haven’t taught you anything about heaven—but think of it as a place where we belong.”
The boy was indeed ignorant about the Heaven concept and its properties as a destination, but he was doubtful about everything Ruby said. Especially the part where she claimed that he also belonged there. He knew that wasn't true. Not as those letters—HEAVEN—blackly bubbled around her head.
Swishy thought of a few other places where she belonged to instead.
“Are you imagining me inside of a birdcage? How naughty of you. Perhaps you have more sadism in you than you’d let on.”
Then she squeezed the heart, giving Swishy’s soul a shock. His dark guardian—the midnight-colored anatomy with its white-void damages—quaked from his reverberating pain.
“Such a shame that your rebellion started so quickly. You should’ve given me a chance. Together, we would ascend. But at least you’re alive—because it truly is a beautiful time to live in Straw City, a place where you can witness your next planting. You're so miraculously fertile. No wonder you’re loved. And you’ll continue to be loved. As community seed. It is an honored role. You'll see in time.”
She tilted her head back and laughed.
Swishy’s focus split then. He was in disbelief, indignation, and sorrow. And then he glimpsed more of what he could lose. Right behind Ruby’s head, he watched Blue Trey shoot his [Zap] beams at the dual-headed wrathraven. The beast heads that glided along the edges of the [Possessed Guardian]’s body, dragging its mouths onto the darkness.
The scarecrow was losing curses by the mouthfuls. Other than white scars in his internal tapestry, Swishy saw outside of his body. He watched the clouds through the rift of his body.
The blue sky had never been so incredibly ugly.
Ruby then rose through the shadows, making her great escape from the [Possessed Guardian]. She flew right past the [Zap]-blasting Trey, offering him a sneer, a laugh.
Afterward, she loopty-looped right through the Duo-eaten rift.
Trey wanted to chase after them. His fingers sparked with voltage. But his age…he was a toddler again. A toddler in soul-blue Timbs that were too large for him. The Clayborne was spent and he knew it. He shook his too-big child head in shame and failure.
Swishy, then, pained and heart-reaped, descended into the throes of heartlessness.
His heart loss came with several effects. First, he went blind to the entire system of his giant body. When before Swishy could pinpoint what was happening to him, employing general surveillance of his insides, he’d gone sightless as could be. There was no clarity of his insides or even feeling of these shadows. After the last heart squeeze Ruby delivered, Swishy was overcome with spiritual numbness. His dominion over his [Possessed Guardian] became questionable as he overheard their wailing agony.
And it was then that the next side progression of his heartlessness came into effect.
The loss had deactivated his Swish-minis.
His consciousness had been blasted with raw hurt, and so each gold sprite dimmed in color. Their glow disappeared. Their golden allure became the brown-oranges of dead thistles. Even their textures changed from lush softness to crumbly flakiness. As they landed within Myst and Trey’s hands or the Sling-ravens’ feathered tufts, the crinkling of dead leaves resounded.
Still, Swishy had an entire support system that cupped his sprites within their palms.
His friends were tender with his dead little selves.
Trey-less Trey finger stroked the sprites, just an empty, absent-minded gesture. He likely did it because it felt interesting or good to himself, but the Swish-minis hummed from the caress.
The Sling-ravens did the same, petting his many selves with their beaks. One of them even ran aura over their feathers, swaying them, massaging the cracked thistles.
Myst allowed her shadows to dance in ribbons across the Swish-minis’ bodies, putting them into blankets. From the tips of her fingers, she yo-yo’d them up and down, tiny scarecrow ornaments that bobbed. She smiled down at the boys.
“There, there, little one—little ones, I should say.”
Myst laughed softly, comforting him. Kindness looked good on her, Swishy decided, but that thought and its soothing properties vaporized as soon as they appeared.
Swishy acknowledged every kindness but they passed over him like a wind. The good vibes went into his deadness yet couldn’t stoke his lost glow.
While he lost his heart, Swishy couldn’t tune into anything that others fed him.
The things that went into him were spent.
Because now Swishy was all abyss with no heart, no stabilizing feature to contain that roiling curses that took residence within his giant body. There was no core for the curses to organize around. There was limited blackwheat to soak up the gloom. But now that Ruby was somewhere in him, carrying his heart away, his shadows flowed from beyond the skeletal husk of his scarecrow-shaped boundaries.
The boy was in a special kind of hell, one that could only be endured by him, but even though every part of him was slackened, weakened, and stripped of willpower. Swishy held onto the belief that it was worth it to keep living and fighting. Evidence of the life he could have was all around him. He rested on the bodies of his friends. He left the Straw-bound village within a village of light. He’d even created allies of some of the curses and snitchtalons that once attempted to use him for everything he had. Swishy had done a lot of building, repairing, and protecting. No amount of suffering was enough to make him quit on the goodness he'd given and received.
The world he wanted was still so close even though he couldn’t detect a hint of HOPE or FAITH amid his tumultuous shadows.
Swishy's loss of heart was still fresh. His agony was everything.
The boy was simply adrift now, dried and dull, carried through Mysts’ warp by his friends.
His internal situation was at its worst but this time Swishy had received some recompense for his troubles.
Thump, thump.
Within the warp gate that Myst had escorted his Swish-minis into, Swishy watched the shadows throb. Myst's aura ebbed from each pulse of the heart Swishy had given her. She lifted the Swish-minis into the tunnel boundaries, dipping him in what felt like watery currents. A baptism of darkness. A pulsing of energy that’d come straight from her heart.
It was a cleansing, his muddled spirit now groomed and waxed. His gloom had already started its healing process. All the damage Ruby had done to his soul had renewed into a beautiful form. He just enjoyed that he could check on his heart. Myst was sharing that which was most important to them.
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Swishy loved every second of this ride.
Myst held his sprites to her chest, pressing close into the immaterial shroud of herself. The heart didn’t speak like his High Chasm one. This one was peaceful, far quieter than the mischievous and outgoing Myst. All the heart did was beat. There were no deviations, no hiccups, no fast beating or erratic rhythm despite all their stressors.
Calm, calm, calm, nothing but calm.
Myst had taken such beautiful care of his heart. He’d given it to her willingly. He’d strangely trusted her—because she’d been so hostile in the before times. But the update was restorative to his spirit. Then pieces of that heart flaked off, little crumbs that floated toward the Swish-minis, diving into their straw.
Sprinkle-sprinkle, sprinkle-sprinkle.
How radiant, how restorative, how loving.
All the Swish sprites were weakened, dead inside and out, but there was a brightness that reentered their bodies. Their shared decay had reversed itself, lifting from their bodies in particles—as if chased out by Myst’s cardiac gift.
Myst kept on sprinkling. Her actions were heart-sharing at its finest.
“This is where we’ll start,” Myst said. “If Ruby—a mere human—can seed the world. Then surely we can do it better.”
The first of the Swish sprites awakened in her hand and nodded.
More of the sprites sat up in Myst’s palm as precious, glowing marbles.
(...)
Swishy, at last, relaxed. Especially now that Ruby was gone.
After the heart was taken, she’d vacated the [Possessed Guardian], leaving Swishy in ruins.
His insides rippled and howled. All firmness and support that kept the scarecrow shape together now turned it into a foundation-less skyscraper. Any second now, Swishy expected his giant form to topple over and cast the entire High Chasm in darkness—one that Ruby would no doubt use for fertilizer and minions and her personal stores of power.
He feared what Ruby’s escape meant for the Straw Village.
Everyone was at risk. But Swishy first had to secure himself, knowing that he was the danger. Curses streamed from him. The smoothness he’d achieved was now set aflame once more, his boundaries flaring in aura, becoming uncertain, unshaped, and less under his control. His abyss leaked outward and he saw himself vaporize, turning into clouds. He realized a part of his shoulder had deformed and rained darkness upon the land. There were foggy holes in his stomach, his chest, and the top quarter of his head.
The boy teetered, he tottered, and he wasn’t even sure that his begrudging use of a stake would be enough support.
“I’m sorry you’re all scared. I’m sorry for being…me.”
“Don’t be,” Myst interrupted, her voice enveloping him.
“I am, though, it’s how I feel.”
Myst stared into her sad little glow pebbles.
“What?”
“It’s not over. You have me, you know. Do you not trust in my power.”
“I trust.”
“Okay, then hush little emo and let this shadow mistress work.”
(…)
Myst was back in a big way.
The scarecrow's vision had receded from his stolen heart and pillaged chest.
And through the throes of his pain, Swishy didn’t yet know how important that’d be for him. It impressed him to see the progress Myst had made during her absence since the original transformation.
His shadow sibling changed between three main forms, all of them humongous, hundreds of times larger than his sprites. Divinity was his only conception of how he saw her now. Sometimes Myst was a genie. When she phased from one place to another, she used her secondary form, a pure vapor that only her dramatic eyebrows and eyes were represented through the gas. Her third form was a spider, but instead of the small, one she became a pure giant. Clearly, she’d healed, claiming the space that she did. This time she kept a humanoid upper body, her face, her chest, and even a pair of human arms to accompany her eight spidery legs. The woman was her brand of a god, claiming Swishy’s [Possessed Guardian], his body, for her domain.
When the first warp finished, they were in a white, Ruby-ravaged void. The area in particular could hardly qualify as a ‘scar’ as it was fully white. There were no remains of shadow. The nearest curses were far, far off, shivering from the [Clean Sweep] that’d torn through it.
“Poor them…I’m sorry I failed you guys.” The Swish sprites waved to the distance but received no response. Naturally, the curses remained in their self-pity. Swishy, heartless as he was, understood the action all too well.
“Damage and repair is a natural part of life.”
“You’re saying we’re here to repair.”
“Of course, Swishy. I can’t leave your darkness in this state. We’re on the move! Can’t you hear it?”
Swishy saw a steady progression of the shadow giant moving. There were slow, lumbering steps. The scenery of woods and treehouses and traditional-style buildings passed before him. His possessed guardian was marching forward, all under the strength of Myst.
The straw sprites were numb to hope but practiced it instead, fluttering their wings rapidly, releasing glitter. Even though they were just going through the motions of joy, stunned and bewildered as they were, they still wanted to give Myst good energy.
“Thank you, thank you,” she gloated.
And as Swishy traveled through her portal he experienced significant gains—nothing that he’d trade a heart for, but these were great positives nonetheless. Within the warp domain, the blackness was translucent, see-through enough that the Swish-minis could see that they were traveling within himself, his [Possessed Guardian]. Myst took them through the white zones, the collateral emptiness from Ruby’s sweeping. Everywhere that was stripped of darkness was being supplemented by Myst.
Obsidian aura spread in webs, in veins, lightly throbbing as curses were funneled through them.
Myst was creating a helpful infrastructure for these woeful voids, a healing architecture. As curses pumped through the veins, a black aura began to supplement that which Swishy lost. Even as Ruby was making off with Swishy’s heart, Myst’s reconstruction of his insides began to make him feel whole.
It was strange, to be drained and filled at the same time. But he quite liked the firmness of his curse-stripped voids. Swishy was gifted with more than what he had in the first place. The energy hardened in straw. Swishy watched himself gain a meaningful semblance of anatomy again. His guardian took steps, ruinous but alive. Each step gave him a rush of pride. One step revived the vigor of another of his straw sprites. Step, rise, step, then rise, in that fashion, his fluttering dolls skimming the surface of Myst's palms. He marveled at the synchronicity of his smaller and larger selves.
“What doesn’t kill me makes me stronger? Is that what people say?”
“It is,” Myst said.
“Maybe I should fight witches more often.”
“I’d advise against that. You’re only lucky to have me. What if I don’t help you next time?”
“You’d help me.”
“I hate how confident about that you’ve become.”
“We’re friends, though.”
“Indeed we are.”
“And you live here. You’re too fancy to live in a bad neighborhood. Straw is my element but silk is yours.”
“You know me so well.”
“I had to.”
“True. I’m glad you remember my meanness. A girl needs credit for her fangs.”
Myst smiled, revealing two curved incisors.
The scarecrow wasn’t the only one to benefit from Myst’s management of the guardian. The Sling-ravens purred softly, spreading their six wings. Every part of their bodies became more muscular. Their auras were augmented with shadows. They weren’t becoming full-sized wrathravens but there was a fortitude sent deep within them. Myst had unlocked their potential. Swishy didn’t know what exactly the beasts had gained but stronger allies weren’t anything he’d whine about.
Meanwhile, Trey-less Trey just stared through the warp tunnel. He shoved his hands in the darkness, awed by the curses rushing over his skin. Each time he experienced something novel his face broke into the most childish smile. The [Heart Strings] that programmed him glowed. Swishy suspected that he wasn’t just manipulated by Trey’s simple instructions. The empty vessel had its own innate set of interests. Being instructed to use [Zlide] made him all the more attentive to Myst’s portal techniques.
“I’m the best, aren’t I?” Myst gloated. “You can’t copy this one.”
Trey-less Trey pouted.
“Do you like my water effects? Feels good, I know.”
Trey-less Trey’s face broke out in glee. Then he shoved his face into the rushing ‘waters’ of the tunnel.
“Is that safe to do?” Swishy asked.
“Maybe, maybe not. But you know, even the true Trey ate anything and everything that had grown in this land. This exploration is just like him, yes?”
“It is, sure, but we should probably babysit this one since he’s here.”
“How charmingly responsible of you.”
“I do my best.”
“You do, and that’s what I like about you."
They kept teleporting from void to void, visiting them, Myst studying and adjusting her work. Sometimes she’d shove her hand through the tunnel wall and drop shadowed orbs into the white void. From these balls, more veins spread outward in a slow squid ink, amorphous at first, then solid.
“Did you do this in your old altar?”
“I did, sometimes, but I don’t think that work was appreciated. I was treated more like an organ.”
“Sorry for that.”
“It’s okay, I have a better home now.”
“Obviously.”
Myst took one of the Swish sprites within her thumb and forefinger and then ground it to dust.
The others buzzed their complaints.
“Did you kill me?”
“I haven’t the slightest clue what you mean,” Myst demurely said, sprinkling the dust from her fingers.
“Evil, evil!”
“Yes, my dear, sing my praises!” Myst was having the time of her life—while Swishy lost one of his thousands.
[Scarecrow]—the boy pulled his one killed self together again.
Myst kept speaking, noticing the return of her pinprick of a victim.
“Do you want to know yourself? Do you want to know how you work? Are you ready, at last, to become a proper dark god?”
There were a lot of questions that came out of Myst’s mouth but Swishy had trouble concentrating. Being robbed—his darkness getting scooped out and his heart outright snatched away—was something that’d without fail deal an incredible spiritual damage to him.
“I know you’re not listening but please, young Straw, this is important.” Myst was patient, though. It wasn’t like she was just sitting there waiting for an answer. There was much for them to account for within the increasingly hollow and skeletal remains of the [Possessed Guardian].
All around, the white scars began to fill back up with shadows. Swishy sensed them enter from below, his feet drawing upon the darkness on the ground to heal itself. Even though Ruby had taken from the cursed energy, Swishy ended up with more reinforcements. The curses were unwilling to let them give up on their newest home.
“I’m listening,” Swishy said.
“You’re not.”
“I know but this hurts.”
The ambient shadows curled and unfurled.
“Pay attention, Swishy. You’ll get the heart back. Besides, there's no tutorial like a Myst tutorial.”
“Yeah, I’d like to not be confused.”
“Great answer, I love this for you, dear Straw.”
The Swish sprites managed a collective laughter. They gathered in a tight ring within Myst's palm and stared up at their teacher.
“Tune into the guardian’s eyes. Watch what we’re making of the world.”
And so Swishy allowed his gold sprites to go dead, relieving them of their consciousness. The many slumbering sprites fell into Myst’s hands. Strips of ribboned shadows wrapped around the palms, tucking the fairies into little blankets. Swishy absorbed the comfort and care, a pleasant and helpful buffer against the sensation of Ruby stealing from his chest chamber. For a moment, he was able to forget that he’d lost heart. Thank you, Mysty, he thought before then drawing his whole consciousness into the [Possessed Guardian]’s eyes.
The clouds, the treetops, the birds—Swishy had looked down on them all. A black fog spread all through the surface, covering the world. But the curses were now working their way beyond the fog, finding different methods of ascension. While some curses crawled up along the legs of the guardian, some became one with the mist and rose as dew and vapors. There were smoky forms. The lucky ones had became creatures and flew in butterfly or battle forms.
And there was a witch on a broom gliding in the distance, surrounded by snitchtalons, her serpentine strings of cursed words, and her dual-headed wrathraven.
The boy, inhabiting his [Possessed Guardian] to the truest extent that he’d ever had, made a realization.
"I'm a giant..."
"That you are."
“Bet I can reach her.”
“If my eyes don't deceive me, I believe you can.”
“Should I?”
“Ruby's a thief. Do you really want to let her go?”
“No way”
“Hehe, neither to do I.”
[Zlide]—a warp opened beside Swishy, Blue Trey popping out of it—baby blue Trey, that is. His soul rushed into Trey-less Trey’s mouth, reinhabiting him.
When he awakened, Trey was tired. He yawned, a [Doze] intent bubbling from his teary eyes.
“What’re we getting into,” Trey sleepily said.
“Fly-catching,” Swishy and Myst said.
With a giant hand, the Possessed Guardian reached out. Because he was so large, his hand felt as if it moved in slow motion. But it had to be fast—because Ruby was fast.
And because Swishy’s hand closed around her so instantly.
A frustrated scream came from within his fist.
“Good boy,” Myst said.
“What now?” Trey asked.
“My turn…” Myst smiled in her immense, spider-mistress form. Her fangs gleamed like diamond tips.
And then Myst created a warp gate, vacuuming into it as a swirling fog.
The portal remained opened as Trey, the deadened Swish-minis, and the Sling-ravens gaped at it.
"Coming?" the shadow mistress's voice said.
And so the crew dived in.