The area he sat in was cramped with miscellaneous items and crates ubiquitous with storage rooms. It was dark, but Mordemicai didn’t need to see to know the place was severely dusty. He had wondered if he should cover his mouth with something to keep the dust away from his lungs, but decided to just suck it up anyway.
With no chairs around, he resorted to sitting on his bags while awake and using them as pillows for when he slept. There was no way to tell how much time had passed since he first entered this room; the port hole windows only lead to the vast expanse of space.
Mordemicai was onboard a space skipper, one of the smallest variants of spacecrafts made for prioritizing speed. He’d bribed an intergalactic delivery man to make a small detour from his usual route and drop Mordemicai off in the Wilds.
The apartment sized vehicle was sketchy looking to say the least, but it had held up so far. The thing wasn’t built for attending to passengers so Mordemicai was having what he thinks has been a rough four days of waiting in anticipation. He imagined this is what it felt like to be a pet put into an underbelly cargo area: cold, constricted, and having no way of knowing what was going on.
The cold didn’t bother him much though. Just like how their skin was strong against attacks, Dogra had strong resistance to different temperatures. They were over all seen as creatures with high defensive capabilities.
At least the courier had been generous enough to lend him a flashlight in lieu of the darkness. Albeit, he only had one set of batteries so it was to be used sparingly.
To pass the time, he’d been reading through the many different books he’d brought. Mordemicai had just paused to focus on the picture he’d been using as a bookmark.
Seryna’s seventh birthday extravaganza. It was the same photo that he’d used to trick his teacher. The night before he left, he’d asked Seryna to put it back where it belonged since he wouldn’t be able to. She told him to keep it as a memento instead.
In her words, “they’ll be too busy to notice it missing anyway.”
Mordemicai decided that the safest place to keep it was between the pages of his novels as that those were the most carefully packed and protected items in his possession.
His eyes were drawn to the picture briefly, feeling as though Seryna was wishing him good luck through it. Passing his thumb over it and smiling, Mordemicai tucked it away once more.
He’d been reading the short but highly regarded essay on the Wilds by A. Edelweiss. It was one of the few valuable outlooks on his destination. He’d visited the article so many times Mordemicai could recite it like a monologue. He was just getting to the good part.
“Brushing the Wilds off as a Neanderthal nest or as an uninhabitable wasteland is but the bitter words preached by those who have no hope to conquer its vast breath. Out of the countless puzzles that remained unsolved from lost history to antidotes for the incurable or our very existence itself; it is undeniable that a fair amount of answers lies behind the line we have drawn. The line between civilization and the untamable, the line between safety and danger, the line between what we know and the great oblivion.
We have strived to create worlds where everyone can live without pain or discord; while these ideals aren’t wrong, only the dauntless create history and bring about new ages. For you, the resolute, I pose this challenge. No promise to fame, fortune, or resolution and peace; jump into the unquelled for the mysteries of our past, the possibilities of our future, and the secrets still kept today.”
Mordemicai mumbled along as he read the quote. Dr. A. Edelweiss, for all his genius and respect earned, received great criticism for this piece of his. There were those who accused him of trying to drive the young to their deaths but he never disowned these words, merely saying that every stretch for progress comes with risk. The only ones who would die would be those who took the chance, the ones ready to gamble it all.
He first learned of Edelweiss back in middle school. An unparalleled genius, progressing the very foundations of medicine, technology, economics, and ecology. It wouldn’t be far off to say that his words were the final push Mordemicai relied on to thrust him into the life he has chosen.
Dr. A. Edelweiss was a role model to him right alongside Detective Nineyard. Even if it was true, he’d never say that out loud. Mordemicai doubted that the professor would be overjoyed to know that he was seen as an equal to the fictional character.
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The Wilds, in a more typical explanation, were defined as the planets that didn’t host a civilization of any kind. Most claim that in a universe so vast and accommodating, people choose the most beneficial worlds and the less desirable ones were naturally left over. While population was ever-growing, that didn’t mean humanity had enough people to constitute using each and every last planet.
This was a widely accepted belief, yet Dr. A. Edelweiss dared to contradict it.
He went out of his way to state that the Wilds aren’t the scraps of our ancestors which could be claimed at any time of our choosing. The Wilds were something that couldn’t be brought under control.
It was interesting. So very interesting. In spite of each military organization, or unfathomable accomplishments in science, or our immense numbers, no one could bring a candle to the mysterious landscapes.
Sure, one-hundred-and-one excuses could be thrown out by politicians or other high officials, yet no one could ever ignore the words of one of the most brilliant men alive.
What could possibly be out there that keeps everyone away? Mordemicai wanted to find out. He’d probably end up the fool in a horror movie who poked around too much and wound up dead, but at least he’d see something neat before he went.
A knock on the metal walls rang to his attention, followed by a door squeak that belonged on an old, abandoned ship. There, standing in the way of the light pouring in, was the mailman he’d bribed.
“We’re getting close. Get ready.” The words sent electricity down Mordemicai’s spine to every inch of his body. The adrenaline and excitement that’d calmed from the long wait had rushed back all at once.
His trembling hands tactfully packed everything back into his bags before picking them up and following the courier into the main cabin. It wasn’t much cleaner than the storage space, but it was warmer, less cluttered, and didn’t have the same sheets of dust everywhere.
Mordemicai took his time to stretch and breath in the fresher air, bones automatically popping. Perhaps it wasn’t enough. Even after the relaxing motions had been performed, his hands still shook.
Was it from excitement? From fear?
The other man threw a pair of heavy duty plastic bags at him and told that he’d want to wrap his stuff.
Not knowing what for, Mordemicai did so without hesitation.
His temporary friend had seemed like a pro at these situations. Every direction the man had given him so far had a rhyme and reason for it. There was no point in chewing the guy’s ear of with questions as long as he knew what he was doing. The courier had shown the skill of someone who’d absolutely undertaken these kinds of requests before and that was all Mordemicai needed to know.
“So, what’s you’re deal?” the man made light conversation.
“Pardon?”
“Everyone I’ve ever shuttled out here has their own wacky reasons. What’s yours?”
Mordemicai thought for a bit on how to explain it before settling on an altered version of a quote still fresh in his mind.
“The mysteries of the past,
The possibilities of the future,
And the secrets still kept today;
Nothing is more thrilling than learning the unknown!”
He’d said it with confidence, trying to sound cool. The older man only raised an eyebrow at him, wordlessly expressing his opinion of Mordemicai. It wasn’t a favorable one. Well, that was fine. He could think what he wanted but Mordemicai’s mind was made.
A distant beeping from the front of the ship drew the man away briefly before coming back. When he’d returned, Mordemicai only needed his eye contact to confirm what he thought.
It was time.
Together, they walked towards one of the docking hatches. The mailman pushed a handful of buttons and pulled a lever causing the door to rattle to life and opened wide. Mordemicai was left basking in the endless scenery.
The space craft had been switched to hovering mode, balancing itself in the air so he could see the horizon from its perch. To his luck, they’d arrived just around dawn. An orange glow kissed the surface, proudly presenting countless pink fauna and contradicting against purple tinted water.
“Don’t expect me to land.” The man to his left started while Mordemicai took in the view.
“I might be weak to money but even I’m not foolish enough to touch down in the Wilds.” It was a fair argument. Who knows what was down there? By landing the ship he could be attacked by the world’s unknown natives or, even worse, invite a local disease that would contaminate his goods and cause an epidemic at his next stop.
“That’s where you get off.” He pointed below them and Mordemicai followed his finger to see they were around forty meters over a lake.
“Ehh, how terrifying!” Mordemicai mused with a wicked grin.
Excitement? Fear? Absolutely! This was pure exhilaration!
Mordemicai closed his eyes, whipping his expression clean to take a calm breath. In the next second his eyes snapped back open. With a madman smile from ear to ear and a tighter grip wrapped around his luggage, he jumped.
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His travel companion couldn’t help but raise his other eyebrow to meet the judgmental one in surprise.
“Well I’ll be damned.” He did it. He really did it.
The courier had done this trip plenty of times. While few in number, there were always people who strove to go to the Wilds. Those who wanted to escape, daredevils with something to prove, intellectuals too full of themselves, or poor souls who wanted to end it all and never be found.
He’d take them on for easy money, haul them out here and give them all the same option.
Jump.
The intellectuals would refuse and tried to get him to land. The daredevils who knew the consequences that came with hitting an unknown depth water would demand parachutes. The ones who’d come with conviction chickened out. He’d refused any request, argue that if they couldn’t even do this then they had no business living out here. In the end, each and every one of them ended up riding back with him on the shuttle.
Not this guy though.
Both feet first, straight into the deep end.
Hearing the tell-tale signs of a splash, he knew his customer at least landed his mark.
Tempted to look, he held himself back. A leap of faith had been performed. It didn’t matter if it was from true belief, unknowing foolishness, or a mindset that didn’t care about the outcome.
Whether he’d passed or failed, the courier decided he didn’t want to know. In all honesty, he’d considered it a miracle if the teen had made it and decided that miracles ought to remain a mystery. After all, some things are best left unknown.
Solidifying his resolve, he closed the hatch and made his way to the cockpit.
“The mysteries of the past,
The possibilities of the future,
And the secrets still kept today…”
The mailman repeated the motive of the boy who had jumped.
“What kind of reason is that?” he laughed incredulously.
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Mordemicai was attacked by cold water the instant he broke its bruising surface tension. Doing his best to manage the shock, he kept plummeting down. Swarms of bubble fluttered excitedly around him while he tried to catch his bearings.
While he happily accepted not dying on impact, he now faced a new problem. Dogra were not exceptionally good at swimming. They were actually pretty bad at it to which Mordemicai was no exception. It’s not as though swimming was out of the question, but their high muscle mass and pitiful amount of body fat meant they were buoyant as rocks.
On the upside, Mordemicai was talented at holding his breath. It wasn’t the flashiest of skills but it’d serve him well enough. It was possible that this was just another trait of his kind, but he’d never found anything to back those thoughts up.
His momentum had fortunately carried him all the way to the bottom of the lake. Ears hurting like hell from the pressure, he noted that at least he wouldn’t have to try to swim back up. Positioning his feet, he kicked off the ground and began rocketing towards the light.
Making it to the air before reaching any dangerous state, he gasped lightly and looked around. The space skipper had already passed on, no longer in the sky. Thankfully, his luggage was floating on top of the rippling waves due to the covering he’d been told to put them in. Grabbing the two bags, his swimming skills were put to the test. Majestic as an ungraceful water sloth, he made it to the nearest bank.
Everything on land, Mordemicai ran his fingers through soaking hair to get it out of his sight. Huffing a bit from effort, he could see his breath in the cold morning air. Being wet in the cold was one of the biggest no-no’s read in any survival book, but the sun only starting to rise so it was bound to heat up soon.
Logically, he knew he should start at it right away: empty the water from his boots, lay his clothes out to dry, scout the area for potential threats, not waste his limited day hours. But he couldn’t bring himself to care so much right now.
The water dunk was refreshing. Any remaining traveler’s lag was immediately washed away. Mordemicai felt more awake then ever. All manners of bugs applauded him with cricks and squeaks while the chilled wind brushed through plains of golden, stalky grass and forests of plush rosy leaves.
Soaking it all in, he was too overwhelmed to do anything.
He’d made it! He hasn’t even done anything yet, but his very blood felt like success. For now, just being here was enough. His war to live freely that started years ago had finally come to an end. Even with a new battle for survival to take its place, Mordemicai would take this moment to celebrate his victory. He’ll get up soon and continue striding forward just as always, but right now he let himself rest.
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Time flies by both fast and surprisingly slow. It’d been a week since his dive. Well, he wasn’t really sure if he could call it a week. Seven days and seven nights had undeniably passed, but the clock he’d brought said that it’d been well over ten.
It was to be expected that on different worlds the sun cycle would run differently, but he was still unsure as to how he wanted to measure the time. It’d make more sense to consider it from where he stood, call a day a day and say it’d been a week, but he’d quickly lose track of things like how old he was after a while. All civilized planets had banded together to name one specific world as the time keeper. That way, no matter the differences across all the areas, everyone would measure years the same. Yet, it’s not like the Wilds abides by their laws or keeps a calendar to stay updated.
Well, Mordemicai supposed it didn’t matter how old he was, but it still didn’t sit with him right to just forget. He’d prepared himself for losing out on the plentiful luxuries that his old life offered so could have for his chance to be here, yet it seemed there’s some things that he’s still unwilling to let go.
Torn between chucking the pocket watch in a declaration of freedom or clinging to the comfort, he decided to keep it. He assured himself that it wouldn’t be forever, but for now he wasn’t ready to throw it aside.
Besides that, things haven’t been going too bad. He’d literally been dropped into a clean drinking source, deeming it safe after he'd seen other fauna sipping from it. If there was something bad about the water, they wouldn’t be taking it. If the thing that was wrong would only hurt Mordemicai, there was no way he could test it so it was useless to sweat the small details.
The same goes for testing the unfamiliar plants by checking first if their juices gave him rashes or if touching it to his tongue gave a reaction after an elongated period. Everything he was doing was something he learned from his books. Mordemicai was glad that they were finally becoming of use.
Yet it seems like his books weren’t good for solving all his problems. He’d been unable to successfully land any game.
From the different animals he’d seen, he could confirm that the rumors of the Wilds being filled with monsters were true. Well, not completely. Rather than monsters, most of them just looked like normal animals, animals with additional qualities, or a mix between different animals.
There wasn’t an official name he could put to any of them so he’d just been calling them by what they’d looked like.
The ones he saw most often were the hedge badgers. Long, skinny rodents with ferret-like bodies that where the size of a small dog. Needles covered their back and while they looked more like hedgehog quills that porcupine ones, he wasn’t going to risk getting shot at. With a badger’s face and attitude, the things hissed and growled anytime he got close.
Even now, he glanced across the lake to look at a group that’d swung by for a drink. Almost as if they could feel him watching, they immediately looked up and startled into a fit.
“Jerk-rats.” Mordemicai grumbled. Perhaps because of his Dogra presence, the hedge badgers really could feel him watching.
The first time he saw one it scared the crap out of him and their relationship with each other only went downhill from there. Deciding that he’d get his revenge by eating them, the hedge badgers could feel his malice grow as they continued to avoid all his traps.
“I’m gonna get you and when I do I’ll cook you till your stupid faces are unrecognizable. Then I’m gonna eat you, but I’ll do a poison test first and if it turns out I can’t, I’ll chop you up and use you as fish bait!” He glared at them from his side of the water to which they kept mockfully hissing in response.
Fishing wasn’t going well either.
It’s not like he expected to be greeted with immediate adventure upon arriving in the Wilds, nor was he naïve enough to think everything would work exactly as it wanted to when he got here. Right now he had to focus on adjusting to the lifestyle necessary to survive which was a process of trial and error.
Yet just because he knew it had to happen doesn’t meant that it’d be fun. Failing time and time again is frustrating no matter what you’re doing. That and his naturally carnivorous digestion system was driving him mad from the lack of protein he’d been experiencing. Sure, he brought along emergency bars and there were plants around so he wasn’t going to starve, but sometimes you really just need meat.
Besides the hedge badgers, peach deer were the other more notable of his nature neighbors. They were essentially deer dawning pink coats to better blend in with all the trees and bushes. There were other minute details about them that struck him as odd, but it’s not like he was a deer expert so he couldn’t quite point out what was weird. The one thing he knew was that most deer didn’t have horn-like spikes that poked out from their chests, shoulder blades, hind legs, and snout.
The peach deer where just as flighty as one expected any deer to be. Far too big for his traps and far too fast for him to reach, he decided that they were just neat to look at.
From what he’d seen, everything here was notably pretty. Cotton candy colored trees with pale trunks, silver fish that made the lake glitter, and big doe eyed residents; heck, even those jerk-rats were cute when their fangs weren’t bared.
He’ll probably end up finding more gritty and cool places when he got to traveling around, but this was an ideal starting spot. He had food, water, good weather, and hadn’t run into anything aggressive yet.
All things considered, everything could have been much worse off from the get-go.
Mordemicai stood up with a groan, deciding to break from fishing and go check his traps. Bringing a rod would have taken too much space, so he’d been using a leather loop that wrapped around his hand with the fishing line tied to it. It wasn’t a full-on glove or mitten, so he just called it a ‘fishing mit’.
He reeled in his cast by looping the line over the leather before sliding the entire thing off his hand and securing it in place with its hook. Absentmindedly tossing it into the pile with the rest of his things, he started making his way between the trees.
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Nada. Once again, his traps had failed to catch anything. The first four traps were left completely untampered with. Mordemicai began considering moving them to different spots to see if that achieved results. Unlike the others though, the fifth trap was broken.
From the way the pieces fell, it was destroyed from the inside out. This time he had actually caught something, but the trap wasn’t strong enough to keep it contained. Mordemicai was being forced back to the drawing board once more.
Sighing, he picked up the mangled corpse of his creation. He still had two more traps to check even if he now knew they couldn’t possibly hold anything.
Winding around the trees, something flashed in the corner of his eye as he was walking along.
Red. Pure, unfiltered red.
Mordemicai had become plenty used to all the colors that inhabited the forest around him, but red wasn’t one of them.
Backpedaling, he winced in surprise while dropping the scraps he’d been holding. Mangled and bloody, a peach deer was spayed across the ground. Mordemicai hesitantly drew closer for a better look.
By the shape of the gashes that nearly had nearly torn the deer’s torso open, it was undoubtedly from another animal. Continuing to inch into the clearing, Mordemicai almost fell backwards when the deer sprung to life.
It flailed it’d legs wildly, jerking about, making a sickly wheezing noise. Turns out that it wasn’t quite dead yet; but no matter how it fought now, there was no saving it. Kicking its hooves feet out, Mordemicai had no choice but to keep away while it panicked. The more the peach deer struggled, the larger it’s pool of blood grew.
Mordemicai was left watching the poor creature struggle as he pondered what this meant for him. Putting the deer aside, he found it more urgent to address what caused the incident. While he hadn’t seen any predators yet, this confirmed that there was at least one nearby.
All the traps he’d set were circumferencing the lake that he’d been living at. Whatever the beast was, it was within his zone of activity.
What if he ended up encountering the creature? If this thing had caught something as fast as a peach deer, running away wasn’t an option. He wasn’t confident that he’d be able to fight it off either. All of his knowledge and preparation came from books, not experience. He could read about punching and stabbing all he wants, but that doesn’t mean he’d be any good at it.
Doubting he’d be able to sleep knowing something like that could attack him, he considered relocating. Moving his camp didn’t sound favorable though. He didn’t know when he’d find another water source as good as the lake and wandering about without a plan spells for more danger. He could even end up in an area with more predators than just this one.
While thinking it through, the peach deer had calmed down considerably. That or it was succumbing to blood loss. He hadn’t yet decided how to go about dealing with the unknown predator, but that was something he could think over later. Currently, he should focus on the situation in front of him.
Right as he was turning his attention to the deer, the rustling and snapping of bushes cracked him out of thought. Mordemicai froze and peered in the direction he’d heard it from.
It was growing louder.