Chapter 63: Human Hazards (Part 2!)

“Hey Krimm.”

“...”

“Hey Krimm.”

“...”

“Hey-hey Kri-”

“The only reason you’re still alive is because for some reason you’re fucking important.”

“...”

“Can ya stop for a second, my foot’s in my chest again.”

“Again?!” Krimm had taken the luxury of not only chopping Vega in half, but tearing her up so fiercely the only parts that remained unscathed were her head and the metal replacements for her limbs.

Right now, Vega had about twenty percent control of her body. Which meant her eyes, her mouth, and her left hand. The rest were tied together along with all of her belongings. Her chest became a mangled bin of the gold and the trinkets Vega had collected. The sight was unsettling to Vega, but also very interesting.

In her mind, it was both fun and educational to be ripped to shreds.

The pickaxe and the guitar she managed to convince Krimm not to break by agreeing not to play any songs or to betray her.

I mean, it would be pretty hard to betray someone when you have control of one arm, but hey, can’t be too paranoid.

And Krimm had much reason to be, since the environment was absolutely pants shitting terrifying.

As soon as Vega was tied onto Krimm’s back, the invisible wall fell and the environment became a lot more stable. None of the same stutters in movement or detail. They were left with no direction aside than the cave surrounding them. Giving it some thought, Krimm decided to search for an exit. The dark. A cruel dark. Dark like no other. An exit, Krimm could not wait for.

“Can it wait, Vega? Kinda trying to get us out of here?” Krimm had shifted her eyesight into dark vision, seeing in shades of gray, which only made it marginally easier to see. But she had to dull her sense of smell, taste, touch, and even hearing a bit. Krimm was focused, and she needed Vega to, in short, shut up.

The dark wasn’t the only thing that made the Assassin offput. Echoes of voices came and went. Voices she could not understand. Not because of them being in a different language, no. But because of the overwhelming emotion behind them. Like the cave was in a state of emotional explosions.

“How long will it take-take?” Vega asked, giving a light scratch to her head. Not being able to move most of your body was a little boring after a while.

“Dude… do you not have any idea?”

“No! Right now my head is on your back and foot on ya buttcheek! I can’t see anything!”

“Will you be quiet?” Krimm calmly responded.

Krimm had been privy to emotions. All fairies had to be, it was an unsaid but very important part of the job. Sure, she was a Fliction fairy and served all elf peoples, but she had an identity with the Galtian tribe. One not too unlike Skaldi’s.

She was a messenger. Kinda like a messenger.

Acting once as the one translating the talks between gods and mortals, Krimm had always been a middle man. The modem of which beings far above would communicate through.

In some ways this job was the same. In other ways, it was way different. Regardless of how fun it was to kill people, she understood why she took it originally.

The scar on her face was a memory. A memory of when the Oligarchy claimed a people. A memory of a people’s end. A memory of when she wasn’t a ghost.

But reminiscing on memory would have to wait, as she still had to navigate the overwhelming dark. She had plenty of equipment on her, but most of it was for combat. When she tried igniting a flash stick, it was swiftly quashed in the darkness. The difference was comparable to splinters, so she stuck to dark vision.

The sound wasn’t pleasant, as those echoes reminded her of souls perishing. A sort of quiet humming and the howling of walking became loud. It made her more sensitive. If she could have her way, she would have liked Vega talking. It makes it less alone, less terrible to be alone.

Every crack in the walls, every droplet threw the Assassin off.

But to Vega, it was a nice change. She wasn’t in a desert, dehydrated from noise. There was a life here, if faintly. There could be a memory here, if they searched for it properly.

The scarecrow was searching. The Assassin was running away.

“I’m.. uh… sorry-sorry.”

“...” Krimm really tried not to care right then. She had to focus, had to find a way out. But on the other hand, she wanted to know, why she was sorry.”

“..sorry for what?”

“I kinda went-went overboard with annoying ya. I can tell ya are hurt and all.”

“It’s whatever. Don’t do it again.”

“... aren’t ya gonna say sorry?” Vega looked down, laying her hand on the rocky ground. Hoping that her apology would be a bridge of some kind, between these two. Vega thought about it, and they weren’t all that different.

Well, in the emotional sense, definitely not the physical sense.

“Sorry for what? For stabbing you a million times?”

“I counted twenty eight.” Vega corrected, raising her finger wagging it. Krimm couldn’t see it but could tell it was there by Vega’s ‘um actually’ voice.

“You really are stupid, aren’t you? I do it for fun! Why can’t anyone get that?”

“Fun? Hurting people for fun?” Vega had a vague chill take her. Not lying, Krimm was. That Assassin was an awful person. But it couldn’t be as simple as that, Vega knew. There was too much sadism, too much anger, too much pain on that face of her’s. And there was a history of people burned in that scar of her’s.

“Yep. There’s a lot more than just pain there.” Krimm suddenly announced.

“What, did ya just read my mind?”

“Yeah, turns out I’m a psychic.” Krimm dryly responded, now treading into an underground river, covering Vega in sour smelling water.

“REALLY?!” Again, Vega was quite excited to hear such a thing, especially relating to a celestial being like Krimm.

“No? What, I’m not actua-”

“What am I think-thinking right now? No no, what is my favorite food?!”

“...do you even eat?” The Assassin stopped in her tracks, gently scanning the river, carefully not to step in deep.

“Ah, ya got me there.”

“By-look, I’m not a psychic. I just… have good intuition.”

“Oh. So ya have a good idea of-of how to predict certain actions with people, par-particularly relating to what they're thinking and what they will say?”

“...yeah. That’s actually better than what I could say. What the f-did you just completely and accurately break down my- what the fuck?” Leaving her nearly speechless, Krimm shook her head as she walked out of the river. If she could, she would have drowned Vega for her mind scratching understanding of her, but unfortunately for her but luckily for Vega, scarecrows can’t drown.

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

At least that’s what I’m told. Cannot confirm nor deny.

“Sorry, it’s just that I-I have good intuition.”

“Stop trying to be cute. What do you want to ask?” Krimm shook herself off the water in her outfit and kept moving. She did not know when those echoes would return, so she wished to hear Vega’s voice again.

“Do ya-“

“Before you continue, you only get three.”

“Come on! We’re gonna-gonna be here a while, might as well get to know each other?” Vega tried to put her hands together in a sly fashion but only managed to get one hand.

“No.”

“Okay… where do ya come from?” Vega didn’t want to make it easy for Krimm to sneak away from the questions, so she put her strong foot forward.

Well, what remained of her strong foot.

“I come from a lot of places.”

“Dude!”

“No, I’m not fucking with you, that’s how I was literally born. How to say… Iozian spirits, nymphs or whatever you guys worship are born from saints or other spirits… right?” Krimm wasn’t privy to explaining her origins to people, so it came with a bit of awkwardness. That very awkwardness made Vega feel more comfortable, that Krimm could be relatable in some way.

“Kinda sorta.” Vega snapped her fingers at her.

“I was assembled. Fairies are sorta creations. Where others are made by love, others like me are made by purpose.”

“Like a tool? And by the way, that doesn’t count-count as a question.”

“Whatever-but no. Not a tool, more… art? We’re put together with the strength of mountains, the longevity of wind, the energy of fire, and… the heart of the elvish peoples. From all over the continent, I was made.”

“Huh.”

“What, going to make a joke?” Krimm prepared for anything Vega could come up, ready to deliver an insult.

“Nah, it sounds pretty nice.”

“Oh.”

“... I feel something.” The scarecrow said, sensing an approaching force. Krimm turned around, feeling what could only be described as a whirlwind of emotion. Anger, love, hope, fear, all compacted in a wind of echoes.

Ducking behind a boulder, Krimm waited for it to pass. Droplets of sweat and pain formed all over her, as she rejected the sudden emotional shock. Hot and cold at the same time. Burning and freezing. The echo passed them, but they believed they had far more to go. The Assassin wanted out.

A couple hours had passed, but it felt like a couple days to both of them. Of course in all that darkness, they had no sense of time.

Every water droplet, every cavern they ventured into, it all meant the same thing. They were lost, and it wasn’t the path they were trying to find, but the fact that there wasn’t a path.

A wear and tear on their emotions, a cosmic exhaustion. Like a thousand pounds were placed on their heads.

After she passed by another echo, Krimm was forced by her body to fall forward. Her legs gave out. She stopped.

“...Krimm?”

“... I hate this.”

“Yeah, I getcha.” Vega laid on her back, trying to stretch out her arm in a vague act to relax. It worked a little bit, but not enough.

“To be honest, I don’t think we’re getting out of here.” The Assassin closed her eyes and let out a tired laugh.

“Is that a bad-bad thing? It’s not like anything good is happening out there?” Vega sarcastically replied, imagining everything the party is doing. Working hard to defend Uvi Jantok, preparing and working with the Oligarchs. Being heroes and stuff. While here she was stuck in a big fucking hole.

“Yeah. I could be getting wasted. Or stalking people. Or killing them.”

“Ya are really unhealthy, aren’t ya?”

“I try to be.” Krimm laughed some more, her eyes closing. She let go of her sense’s powers, allowing herself to be unfocused. As all of her senses returned to normal, everything has a weak bliss to it. The air was cool and breezy, and the ground was cold. She could sense that those echoes were far off, so Krimm let go and tried to sleep, but her body was too stressed already. Too wound up.

“Ya are too wound up to go to sleep.” Vega said, trying to see in all the darkness. “Mind if I asked ya those last two questions?”

“Normally, I might say no, but I am way too bored. Go right ahead. I don’t care.”

“Hmmm… do ya like anyone?”

“Wha-what? Like anyone, what are we, children?” Krimm, surprised by the topic, felt Vega stare down at her realizing she was meaning in general. “Oh! I got it.”

“Yeah, anyone ya like? What about that Runtaii guy, don’t ya work for him too?”

“Not really, I mean for the working part. All Assassins bow down to Ani, he essentially owns us. What am I saying, he justs owns us.” She thought that she’d be revealing too much information right then, but she could hardly care. If they got out, Vega couldn’t run away. If they even got out.

“Still not-not answering the question.” Vega twisted a bit to poke Krimm’s head.

“Fine-Runtaii is kinda cool. Compared to the other Patriarchs he’s alright. Most either sit on their asses or are way too damn proud. Runtaii is… human? Like, he’s genuine about what he wants and he plans on it. He’s not gonna stab you in the back, he’s too busy stabbing you in the front.”

“Cool-cool, but he’s more-more like a co-worker.”

“If that’s what you call a warmonger that’s planning to invade an entire city, then yes.”

“Yeah, but anyone else?” Vega turned back, allowing Krimm a few moments to think.

“Let’s see… Sabere was okay?”

“Who-who?”

“That guy you killed with a pickaxe?” Krimm tried to remind her, but Vega could vaguely remember.

“That doesn’t really narrow it down. Oh, that guy at that island port, he was a dick-dickwad.”

“Yeah, but he was smart. A little.” Krimm started to feel a bit sad. Most of the people she had relations with were either brutal bastards or dead bastards. Her work didn’t leave much time to find genuine friendships. But still, she could not suppress her annoyance with Vega's social life.

“Come on, there’s got to be someone!”

“...Ani. Ani is… the closest thing.” The Assassin wasn’t lying. She wasn’t using subterfuge, playing any tricks, nothing. Her feelings were laid true on the dark ground.

“Hey, I got it. Ya don’t need to elaborate.”

“...Thanks.” She wasn’t being sarcastic. She appreciated this break in questioning. For a couple moments, Krimm wondered if she should ask Vega some questions as well. But she could tell that those questions would make her feel terrible about her life as well.

A scarecrow was living a better life than her.

“Ya know… I think I figured it out.”

“Figured what out?”

“These places. They’re supposed to represent memories or whatever. But they’re obviously distorted somehow.”

“I guess so. Memories are not perfect. They’re influenced by perspective and reflection. Point being?” Krimm understood what Vega was trying to say, but not what it was leading to.

“These memories aren’t ours, but we forced our way out in the first place.” Vega argued, tracing the brim of her hat.

“Yeah, because of the Soul Gems disturbing the environment, not because of anything we did.”

“No, ya got it the wrong way. Soul Gems didn’t break it, we did!” Vega cheered, finally showing the point she was getting at.

To change a memory’s purpose. A memory’s format. A memory’s way out.

“Holy shit, that might actually be the fucking answer. Now, how the fuck do we break this?”

“We’re in a cave-cave, right?”

“Yeah?”

“And what do people do in caves?” Vega asked, trying to spur Krimm’s creativity.

“Uhh, go in them?”

“Now, ya dig! And what do ya dig with?”

“A shovel?” Krimm slowly stepped up and turned to Vega, hoping that she was right.

The scarecrow looked at the Assassin with so much disappointment before handing her the pickaxe.

“Oh! I see. Well shit let’s try it.” Krimm grabbed onto the pickaxe and was immediately pulled back to the ground. “Holy shit, this weighs a ton!”

“Does it? I thought it weighed a couple pounds.”

“No, this is so fucking heavy? What is this made out of?!” Krimm strained to give the pickaxe back to Vega who received it with grace.

“Huh, I guess I never gave the pickaxe to anyone. Neat.” Vega felt a minor pride that she was able to wield such a heavy object.

“Can you do the swinging while I do the looking for a wall?”

“Sure-sure.” Vega held the pickaxe as best as she could. Of course, using it with one hand was going to be uncomfortable, but all she wanted to do was to make a way out.

Running fast and with remaining energy, Krimm rushed forward before she rammed head first into a wall.

“Found it.” She gave a weak thumbs up before getting and turning around. With enough space between her and the wall, Vega started swinging hard and fast. Chunks of rock scattered and fell, and she could immediately feel there was a hollowness to it.

“Oh yeah, I was right!”

“Uhh… something’s not right.”

“What’s not… oh shit-shit.” Both of them could sense it. Another echo, more powerful than all they had passed. Like a whimpering cry, one that accompanies a great despair.

“Can you go a little faster?” Krimm backed away slightly.

“Try-trying to!” Vega swung more desperately, feeling that echo come closer and closer still, feeling the tendrils of its despair on the back of her head.

For a second, it felt futile. This echo of memory would consume her. It would take all of what she could be and reduced to a single event of pain. That she, ultimately, wouldn’t mattered.

In the next second, she sang something.

“Guide… my… way… out… OF… THIS… PLACE…”

With one last strike, the cave walls broke open and they were both set free.

Pulled into a shining tunnel by a heavy but tender wind, the two floated along. Barely able to escape but glad they were able to nonetheless.

“HOLY SHIT THAT TOOK WAY TOO FUCKING LONG. OBSTACLE TWO COMPLETE. TAKING constructs to OBSTACLE THREE.”

The voice of the tower was refreshing, showing that they were safe in an odd way. They had no clue how much longer they would stay in the tower, or how many more obstacles they would face, but that didn’t matter then. They managed to succeed despite that dark.

A faint hope grew inside. Inside of Krimm, her memory of her people could be more than just pain. That it could be more than what she saw it as.

Vega had an identical feeling, more that inspired a vague sisterhood between the two.

That she could be more than what was inflicted onto her.