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Vega Of The Wastes
Chapter 59: Buried Alive

Chapter 59: Buried Alive

Chapter 59: Buried Alive

The fear of the past was being a slave.

The fear of the future is to be a construct.

Now with such a thought provoking opener, you might expect Vega’s actions to be at least remotely connected to that, but no!

Not sparing one more thought, Vega ran into the purple mist, letting out a powerful warcry.

“WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-”

Okay, maybe not a powerful one, but you get what I mean. Vega knew she couldn’t afford being defensive, having no ability to see anything. So risking it all, Vega swung wildly out in front of her, hoping to at least deal some damage to whoever might do her harm. After all, doing random shit has worked out before, why wouldn’t it now?

“Opening floor.”

“Opening wha-” Underneath Vega’s feet, the very ground shook once and even faster separated in half. “Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee-”

Again, she was kinda having fun.

Plummeting down at rapid speeds, Vega held the pickax over her head and struck at the wall. Sending an explosion of rock, she managed to imbed the end of it in. Creating a long line of cracked wall, Vega pulled hard on it to slow her descent. Feeling air starting to blow underneath her, she pressed her feet against the wall as well. Finally beginning to slow down just enough, Vega stopped just fifteen feet above where the floor was.

“Woo. That was too close!” The scarecrow hopped off and landed in a crouch. Standing up, Vega soon noticed she wasn’t the first to be here. A group of shattered bones and skeletons laid on the ground, most having a toxic green or yellow around them. Some still had hair in their scalp while others hand a few maggots on whatever tissue hadn’t been eaten up yet.

Mmh, now that’s good cooking! Just me? Okay.

Most of their gear varied in quality. Some were squalid explorers only armed with knifes and the clothes on their backs, others prepared with holy books and fetishes. There had even been one watchman, his armor cracking open like an egg. Whatever equipment they had it either rusted or rotted away, so Vega didn’t take notice of it.

A thing Vega had noticed, which would be pretty hard not to, was that the tower was no tower at all. In fact, it was a whole lush forest landscape in front of her! Tall elderwood trees, clouds in a pink sky, and grass and rivers sprawling out in front of her.

However, not to Vega’s knowledge, the sun was no sun at all. If one looked closely enough, the yellow sphere had a gem like glint to it, as if it were a piece of jewelry.

Despite that, the scarecrow decided it would be best to make friends with the dead.

“Hello! What’s ya name skull dude?”

…oh, there is no response. As one might expect. Another thing you might have suspected is that Vega would realize that death shit can’t talk, but hey, it's part of her charm, don’t you think?

Again… I have just this weird feeling that she reminds me of a construct I made… Very odd. But who cares about something like that? Back to the scarecrow fucking with bones and shit.

“Ya wouldn’t happen to know where the exit, right-right? Or anywhere I’m supposed to go?”

Nothing.

Not just because the bones were silent, but everything was. The rivers didn’t trickle on the sandy shore, Vega’s footsteps on the grass brought no crunch, where there was wind in the leaves there was no bristle. The whole environment, Vega knew, was false. It brought no life nor no death. It was rotting or living, it was a false image. A false place that had no rhythm.

The scarecrow was alone.

Feeling this creeping disturbance, Vega walked away from the bones and headed off, following the river.

“Again… this is not right. Why is it so-so alone?” Vega, in effort to keep herself sane, spoke aloud. As she walked, she hoped that someone might answer. That someone would find her.

“Hmm. Guess it’s just me-me again. This blows.” As she finished her sentence, she guessed that the Voice would join her, make some snide comment about how she’s a failure. How she’s missing the point. How’s she getting all wrong.

But no. For the next half hour Vega walked and walked alone. There were no birds in the sky, no fish in the river, not even worms or bugs in the dirt. She wondered during that time about an interesting thing, or more of an interesting comparison. After all, this environment had to be designed for her.

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She wondered if this environment was how people saw her. Now it might seem initially a bit silly, of course Vega we are talking about, but she felt a bittersweet thing.

That this forest of near unlimited trees and waters held a strange beauty, the one when someone encounters a corpse. How enchanting, in a sort of way, that this thing that once supported life has it no longer. It is absent. It is gone. I can't live it again.

“Is that me? Is that how people see-see me?” Vega took a look at her hand and tried imagining Skaldi’s or Florato’s hand beside. They wouldn’t quite match. She tried Ren, he was a bit different, but no he wouldn’t fit her either.

“It’d be so-so much easier if there was just someone who can show me. Show me how to be… me? Wow, I think I just came up with a smart idea.” The scarecrow applauded herself and smiled and thought on it a bit more.

“Ena! Have you finished your studies young lady?” A voice echoed in the distance. Vega ducked down, hiding behind a bush and tried to search for who had said that.

“Yes Wiseman, I have. You can see.” Only about ten yards from her, she could sense it.

“Ena… Ena! That’s the-the girl that's been writing all those letters!” Vega cheered quietly to herself, not trying to alert. Still, this was a huge find. Vega pieced the parts together. This isn’t an environment or actually underground. It had to be a memory. Ena’s, that had to be it.!

At least, that's what she believed.

“Memory! That is-is it. I know what I got to do. I’ve realized it!

“I see. This is good work Ena. Well done.”

The sudden conversation gave Vega a shock, having been alone. And as she slowly moved closer, their voices sounded off.

Distorted, as if they were speaking underwater or speaking behind a door. Though Ena’s voice wasn’t too offputting, only sounding slightly muffled. The closer she crawled, she saw a great structure come into her view.

A sizable school with strong fortification. All of it an adobe brick and etched sculptures of gods and spirits Vega didn’t quite know. With tall minarets and opulent white towers, Vega had the suspicion that this was of Tripolian design.The school had a steady flow of people, both guards and students with the occasional teacher or wiseman. And in the back behind a thousand trees was a great mountain that if you squinted, it blended into the sky.

Nearing as close as she could to Ena, she hid behind a tree and took a peek, a glimpse at her, not for an instant but for a long time.

Ena was precious. So precious. Black hair that fell onto her blue robes, brown eyes that glowed with intelligence. A smile with a few lost teeth that made her more brave than her bookish appearance would let on. And on her back, was a guitar.

“So… that’s… that’s really her.” Vega didn’t have a smile nor was she frowning. She did not feel envy or hate. She felt a strange familiarity. A warm one at that, but couldn’t put her finger on it. Vega turned back and took out the first letter that she had found of her.

“Dear Father,

I want you to know that I’m enjoying my stay at the farm. I discovered that the Yita Mountain has a cave with flowing water. It was an interesting place, it helped me study my instrument in peace. Please write to me about how my mother is doing. I am worried for her. I know you are both good at your field but I wish that she is doing well.

From…”

“Ena. So that’s the girl-girl Kaliber cares about.” As she carefully folded the piece of paper back up, Vega felt a hint of pride. That somehow, she was in relation to those two. To Kaliber and Ena. That she might be cared for, not in the way of friends but of family. Vega had always wondered what it’d be like to be looked after. She giggled, thinking up a fantasy of her in a crib as a little tuft of hay.

“Hehehe. That would be pretty cute.”

“You have a good day now, miss. Don’t forget, it’s the festival tomorrow.” THe wiseman shook his finger at her, stepping aside and let her pass.

“Yes sir.” Ena nodded and walked away from the wiseman.

“Oooo! Now’s my chance.” The scarecrow checked both sides of her before proceeding to where Ena was walking. Hopping over a small wall, Ena moved atop a walkway, connecting to the second floors of the school buildings. This provided ample enough space for Vega to hide behind whenever Ena turned a corner, and allowed her to fully take in the place.

Every building was chock full of shelves and scrolls, icons of Tripolian emperors of the past that were placed higher than gods and spirits, and students that seemed not too different from the average Iozian. Vega could sense that these folks were living life about the same as the people in Uvi Jantok, in a sort of blockade or imprisonment. The same sunken skin and thinner bodies, tired eyes and guards patrolling everywhere.

At the same time, Vega relaxed. She still knew she was in the tower and it had to offer some challenge, but a thought occurred in her head that the obstacle would be more logical rather than spikes or arrows. Nevertheless, Vega remained vigilant, prepared for what was to come. Kaliber had to have something prepared, she thought. Soon, Vega would find what it was.

“It’s okay… it’s okay… she said she’d be here. She promised.” Ena stopped in a dark corner of one of the buildings, taking a few deep breaths as she did. Vega peeked behind a wall, seeing all of it. “Ah, please. Just… please be here.”

The doubt in Ena’s voice, that the one who promised might not be there. That there might not be an answer that she’d like.

Inside of Vega, there was a sharp call. Not one that commanded her or controlled her, but motivated her. To do good. And Vega, shaking her head and shrugging her shoulders, stepped out from behind the wall and stepped up to Ena. Her hands were shaking, her smoothed out her hair and clothes. For some odd reason, Vega felt a bit nervous. Walking up to bandits, fighting soldiers, and all manner of dangerous stuff couldn’t bring this out of her, but a meer girl is what spawned all this anxiousness. The scarecrow chuckled before tapping on Ena’s shoulder.

“Hey-hey. It’s okay, I’m here. Ya don’t need to be alone.”

Nothing.

And when I mean nothing, I mean nothing. Ena stayed there for a bit, seemingly not acknowledging Vega.

“Hey. I’m right here. No need to…” Vega waved her hands in front of Ena’s eyes, and came to that very realization, one that would haunt a sociable girl like her. She couldn’t be seen. She couldn’t be heard. Her very shadows didn’t even exist. Looking at Ena’s eyes, hoping there might be a bad prank going on, all she could see was the environment without.

“Ah…Kaliber. Dad, mom. Anyone… I just want to see you again.” Ena steadied her breathing. Vega backed away and stared at the ground. What she hoped to talk to the one that had given her questions, all she got was silence. A death where there should be living. A corpse in a field of life.

“Oh. I understand-stand. I see. A ghost. I’m a ghost. A ghost without a host.”