Chapter 18: Into the Pit (Part 1!)

In all my time ruling and learning about the world, questions were my favorite tool. If I had to pick the most important question, it would be this…

How can we make good behavior not only a choice, but a good one?

I’d supposed it would, again, begin at the hands. And it is necessary that they be open. Much like the howling priest’s, now worshiping Vega.

“His beauty has blessed us with a savior. Praise be to Recor!” Quickly the whole apartment took to praying to Vega, kowtowing to the disturbed scarecrow.

“Uhh, okay? Do ya guys still need help or…”

“Yes holy spirit! There is a demon in our city!

“Is it a Gello!?”

“No, it's much worse! Its… it’s a snake!” The priest pleaded, half confused that Vega didn’t see it.

“Oh! I can take care of that easily. Just point me in the direction and we’ll get it done.” The priest straightened his back and leaned to the face of Vega.

“We?”

Within the minute Vega led the group to the apartment, much to the surprise of the priest. The rest of the people in the apartment flooded out, with a nurse conducting a less than harmonic hymn for the scarecrow. As the priest considered the foreign and bizarre ‘friends’, he reminded himself that spirits when desperate enlisted the help of mortals.

“Oh holy spirit, thank you graciously. The snake has fallen into our sewers and we are too few to rid it. Go with strength and praise to Recor.”

“Praise be!” Vega replied, now skipping to the newest drain. Bolato read the remaining people of the city. Roughly a hundred, perhaps more, were still hiding.

“Priest, are you the only ones that remain in Jinmai? Where are the guards?” Bolato questioned. The priest opened his mouth but swiftly closed his teeth, gritting them together. His eyes closed, conceding an unknown tragedy.

“They had sent snakes all round the city, igniting them. Even after hours and they were reduced to muscles, they still ran. Luckily as the day passed, the inferno ceased. But there still remained a snake that wasn’t burned, and we haven’t seen anyone outside the apartment in a week.”

“You’re a good man Priest. Not many people would stick around. Take care of your people, and we’ll take care of the snake.” Bolato understood the severity of the snake, for it was no simple animal. Equipping his shield and helmet, he fastened them tightly to his body.

“Florato, you wouldn’t mind playing a few songs for the people?” The actress took a quick glance and then nodded. She hopped off and began searching for a suitable instrument to calm them.

“Valiato and Skaldi, you’re going to stay here.”

“Bola, but I-”

“No buts. If you get bored, you can hang out with Florato.” Valiato turned to the actress who was grabbing the attention of the crowd. “Don’t make too much noise. You remember who we are.” Bolato crossed his arms.

“But I want to hang out with Vega…” Her voice lowered and her eyes were mad. All Bolato could do was ensure the kid would be safe.

He stepped to the scarecrow, as she was wrenching the sewer grate with her pickaxe. When she opened it a rotten gas burst out, causing the soldier’s eyes to water.

“Whoo! That’s hideous.”

“What-what does it smell like?” Vega knelt down beside the opening and lowered her head. In that moment, she desperately desired Bolato’s ability to smell, just as he was tying a scarf around his face.

“Like a job that needs to be done. Let’s head down.” Stepping on the ladder, the pair climbed into the refuse ridden sewer.

Fattened by stale water and dung, the sewer was a bloated and dying organ. Each step he took, Bolato noticed more aqueducts weren’t in use. Running water wouldn’t eradicate the stench, but it would help the blockages formed on the path.

“Whatever you do, keep quiet. And hold this, make sure it doesn’t go out.” Muffled, Bolato handed over a flash stick and struck against the wall. A few stars burned and now the pair could see.

In this system Bolato felt lucky he could stand up straight, as most waste treatment was done by tunnels a person could only crouch in. A few mosquitoes buzzed right by the soldier, but he took precaution by applying a thick gel on his exposed skin. Vega did not have any anti insect precautions, since numerous mosquitoes and bugs flew around her like a hive.

“Hello bugs. Be careful, there’s a snake-snake around.” Vega spoke quietly as the distant chants of the apartment faded away.

Minutes drowned away in the dark waste, with both Bolato’s and Vega’s patience draining. Bolato was slowly angered by the increasingly more common barriers that disallowed them to find the snake. Vega differed, as there was no rhythm in this place.

Not even the chorus of chirping bugs were enjoyable, as they resembled an argument in a foreign language. No rushing water, no bubbles, just a wasteland of sound.

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Upon turning the corner, Bolato was hoping that something would attack him, to break the dull pain. In war, he encountered such a feeling often. Marching, set up camp, sleeping, and then repeating. Same story with the navy, just sailing to destinations with no end in sight. But just like his desertion, he found a means to break the monotony.

“Vega, do you see that platform over there?” Bolato whispered, pointing his sword to wooden scaffolding drowned in darkness.

“Yep-yep. Why do ya ask?” Vega quired. The scarecrow felt their voices bounce off the walls of the system, and she noticed there wasn’t a bridge to get to the scaffolding. She would have been willing to hop into the sewage but she had taken a bath an hour before.

Vega looked around for a way to get to it. Bolato picked her up just as he had done ten minutes prior.

“Is this going to be-be what happens every time ya can’t get into something?” Vega shot a look at the soldier.

“Yeah.” Bolato shrugged.

“Awesome! Throw me! Throw me!” Bolato chucked Vega over the gap and into the structure. She swung her pickaxe into one of its poles and angled a landing inside. Getting her bearings, she saw that it was a series of levers beside a few pipes.

“There should be a lever labeled ‘Storm’. Pull it!” Bolato quietly yelled. Vega read fast and within a second pulled the level. A pipe sloshed with water and out came a steady pool of steaming water.

“Jump back now!” Bolato held out his arms to Vega. She hopped down right into his arms.

“Can we-we do that again?” Vega squeezed his arms, just as the water broke down a blockage.

“Absolutely.” Every ten minutes they came across another aqueduct and every time they repeated the same routine. Throw the scarecrow at the target, she pulls a lever, and then water makes the sewer more easy to traverse.

Luckily, the water pouring in created a new stench, resembling that of a wet dog. Much better than the rotting dung before.

Not only this, but now rushing waters masked their sounds, allowing them to talk more freely.

“Hey Bolato, are ya gay?”

If Vega wasn’t a fucking scarecrow I would be very upset with her question.

“That I am, yes. Are you going to ask how I found out?” Bolato’s chill attitude began to return, now able to tolerate the sewer.

“Yuh huh! Why do ya like guys when girls are right there?” Bolato laid a hand on his chin and stopped. Vega knew he was constructing some remarkable beauty that would grant her a new perspective.

“Why do people sleep? Why do children run to the bakery to eat sweets? And why does Skaldi look so cute?” Vega leaned, eager to learn the reason.

“Because the sun is out. Obviously.” Bolato marched on, leaving Vega in awe of his divine wisdom.

The light falling in from the outside turned red in this section of the sewer and turned the roaming halls into arteries and veins. Everything was becoming cleaner and there laid less and less rubbish around. But there was no snake, Vega thought. Perhaps the snake took a nap and hid somewhere.

“Just a couple more aqueducts and I think the blockage in the east section will be gone. Are you ready for the next one?” Bolato ignited another flash stick and tossed the used one into the water. His back towards Vega, he tugged on her shoulder.

Vega didn’t answer.

“Well?”

Her eyes were focusing on a figure which Bolato couldn’t see.

“Vega?”

It wasn’t a snake.

“What’s wrong?”

The figure was a Snake Skin. And it was right in front of her face.

“Bolato?” Her whimpering voice came out.

“What is it?”

“Go-go on ahead. I think it's the voice again.”

“Alright. Just stay right there and don’t make a sound. Who knows where that damn snake is…” His voice petered off as he walked in the shadowy sewer.

Massive eyes stared down at Vega, with a burning ‘S’ for pupils. Its body was mangled and dozens of arrows stuck out of its flesh. Skin formed hardened scales and glistened off the few bits of light coming from above.

Its few bits of skin that wasn’t ribbed was a wooden color, that of a tree plagued by mushroom rot.

Vega knew what happened even if she didn’t know how. She saw a human turned into a monster. All sentience and kindness deprived. To even call it a human was an insult to the state of humanity. Like comparing a ruined pile of brick to a thriving city.

Vega recognized that with its deep crunchy breaths, hunched posture and unblinking eyes.

Yet, the Snake Skin didn’t attack her. In what remained of its hands was a cutlass and saber. Neither of its arms were raised. Both beings indeed saw each other, but it appeared that the Snake Skin was just looking at Vega. She saw the wandering ‘S’ roam around, charting each bit of straw and hay on her.

There was once a time I could confidently say there were no real monsters. It was common knowledge in educated circles that all monstrous and malevolent creatures existed only as demons or the far past. But in times like this, I can confidently say I’m wrong.

The scarecrow understood the monster’s stare. She had the same one when asking a question. Whoever the Snake Skin was before had been starved out.

Evil forces sieged the mind of the person before and conquered them, replacing them with ersatz. All but one thing reminded, that being their curiosity. The eyes looked and looked, just as a person lost looks for a path out. Those sad and devastated eyes looked at Vega. Almost childlike, chaotic and innocent those eyes were.

The Snake Skin couldn’t ask a question. It had no mouth, no breath, and no throat. But with eyes like its own, it asked Vega a question.

What am I?

Wondrous, was the thought that Vega had. This scarecrow had never seen such a being before, not even in the big city. A person that refused to die. She had learned about miraculous animals and creatures that only existed in distant lands, but that wasn’t here or there.

At best, it was a sour imitation of a miraculous wonder, that being death. But the Snake Skin was real and happening in front of her.

Ghost, she held the word in her mind. Maybe that’s what it was. Valiato is a ghost somehow, but this was a real undying soul.

Her admiration for the being faded away as she noticed it wasn’t doing anything. Only standing and gazing at her. Vega was alway industrious, even in her leisure. Rarely did she encounter a person willing to laze about. But is the being before her really capable of anything? She wanted answers.

The scarecrow reached out for the Snake Skin’s hand. She wrapped her glove around the wrist and the being prompt dropped its weapons.

“Hello…” Vega offered a conversation. The being couldn’t accept, as Vega said no command.

“What’s ya name?

…Nothing…