A guy, a cat, a bird, and a turtle

[FS]

I'm just going to add what I've added to the story since. I left it alone for some longer periods of time, but luckily it's still easy as pie to pick up where I left off. Mage, I've marked some of the stuff you mentioned so I'll remember it when I make a second draft - should this first draft get finished. Thanks to you who take a moment to check this story out and much more thanks if you're willing to leave your feelings on it.

P.S. it's unfortunate that I can't seem to insert tabs here, as I've been using them plenty.

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They walk downhill at a steady pace for the next twenty minutes or so, none of them talking. Jynx still seems to be very irritable about the situation. Ben has, perhaps consciously, temporarily decided to focus his attention on his surroundings. The grass at his feet is becoming increasingly mixed up with wild growths of plants and flowers. They look fairly normal to Ben, though he couldn’t name them even if they were… in his own world. Above, there’s still not a cloud in the sky, and at the foot of the hill, there’s a dense forest stretching out to the far horizon.
Surrounded by only the calm sounds of a soft breeze blowing through the grass and the chirping of crickets (or this world’s equivalent of them), Ben starts to feel that the silence among them is turning the air into something too heavy to comfortably breathe.
“Uh… Where are we going, exactly?”
Jynx gives no response to imply he’s heard Ben, but Beene looks up from the ground, and Wex suddenly spreads her wings and briefly flutters into the air, landing on Ben’s right shoulder. He feels pretty uncomfortable by this, not so much because he hasn’t completely shrugged off his apprehension of these creatures, but because his human instincts are still telling him that a bird this size might bury its beak in your eye socket as soon as look at you. He tries to hide his discomfort, as the bird has been the friendliest of the three animals so far.
“To be honest, we’re not entirely sure.” Wex says. “Once we’re out of the forest, we’ll have to ask someone for directions.”
“I… I don’t mean to be rude, but if you don’t even know where we’re going, why did you bring me here? What am I supposed to do?”
“That’s not rude.” Wex replies cheerfully. “We need you to set the sun and the moon back in motion. I’m gonna fly ahead and make sure everything’s clear.”
And before Ben can ask any more, the bird lightly pushes herself off his shoulder and flies out into the forest, oily rainbows glistening on her wings until she disappears among the trees.
Ben stands still for a moment, gaping a little while trying to make sense of the bird’s words. Ahead, Beene and Jynx are entering the forest as well, unaware that Ben is lagging behind.
Suddenly, a distinctly high-pitched voice chirps something unintelligible from out of the grass.
Ben’s attention shoots to the left, but there is nothing other than trees, grass and flowers. Before he can decide it was just a funny-sounding cricket, there’s another chirp, though this time what it’s saying seems to be different.
Following his hearing, Ben softly treads through the grass, into a bed of yellow, horn-shaped flowers. For all he knows, he’s looking for a tiny gnome or fairy. It doesn’t seem a far stretch in this world.
“Ass!”
Below. To the right. Not far from his foot. Ben leans over.
“Shithead!”
Behind him. He spins around, but sees nothing among the plants.
“Fuck! Fuckface!”
Ben spins around again as he hears the words, and a notion strikes him that’s so absurd, his vision briefly fills with dark red spots as if he’s going to faint. He presses his palms against his temples to stay conscious.
The flowers are talking to him.
One of them turns its yellow horn towards Ben, and as it sharply tells him “Cocksucker!”, the rim of the horn actually forms the words, weakly, in a crude impression of a mouth. Inside it, Ben can see tiny ridges of sharp tips that look like teeth, running in a straight line from the edge of the horn to the inside.
More and more of the flowers begin to speak, surrounding Ben with chirped insults and swears, some of which appear to be badly pieced together, like Holeshit and Facecock. Ben is just about to try and say something back to them, when a small hand closes on his upper right leg.
With a cry of surprise he leaps forward and turns, crushing one of the flowers underfoot. It utters a short, soft croak.
Standing just at the edge of the flowerbed is Jynx. A little further behind him is Beene, who seems even more reluctant to be near the flowers. Both are panting, as if they just came running out of the forest to get him.
“What is your problem?” Jynx says exhaustedly, but with a hint of fear. He urgently beckons Ben with his paws. “Get out of there, now!”
Not really understanding, but reading both animals’ body language well enough, Ben makes his way out of the flowerbed with several leaps. The three of them hurriedly walk away from the madly chirping flowers, heading into the shadows of the forest.
“I’m sorry, I… I got distracted.” Ben says to Jynx.
“No shit you got distracted. What were you thinking? ‘Gee, these flowers are talking to me, I’d better investigate?’” the cat replies.
“What are they?”
“Swearblossoms.” Beene says in an unsteady voice. “They don’t know what they’re saying, they’re just flowers after all. They’re just doing what nature made them for – attracting nearby animals for food.”
Ben swallows and looks over his shoulder. In the distance he can still hear a few chirps, but they’re rapidly dying out. “They eat… meat?”
“Don’t be silly.” Jynx says. “They lure animals over so predators can catch them off guard.”
“Oh.” Ben says, and utters a soft sigh.
Jynx reaches up and scratches his ear under the cowl. “No, they just eat the bones.”



Ben soon loses any sensation of time as they continue walking through the forest. There is no easy path to walk, and they frequently have to climb over fallen trees or wade through bushes. Occasionally, Wex returns to them to say there is nothing out of the ordinary ahead, before flying off again.
While the sun is undoubtedly still shining bright and hot, it’s pleasantly cool and dark under the cover of the trees. For a while Ben jumps at any and every sound, until he begins to accept that there are quite normal squirrels and birds that don’t talk in this world too. A few times he attempts to initiate conversation with Jynx or Beene, but both brush him off and seem intent on keeping relatively silent.
The local plant life certainly looks normal, but Ben has never seen such wild, unbridled growth in his life. Of course he’s seen forests, on a few holiday trips and family visits, but only now does he realize how much you could see the human hand at work in them.
The temperature seems to drop rapidly as they move deeper into the forest. In fact, Ben is starting to feel downright chilly. All he had on when he came into this world is a pair of fading black jeans and his work shirt, imprinted with the store’s name and logo. The dew hasn’t entirely dried out of his pants yet, and is starting to turn his ass into a block of ice.
He begins hearing the swelling sound of running water ahead. When Wex comes back, she informs them that there’s a creek nearby where they could rest for a while. Ben feels relieved.
They reach a small clearing under a huge tree, its roots coiling and twisting around each other, forming an excellent place to sit down. The tree looks extremely old, as does the creek running next to it, which has etched itself a swirling path through the forest ground. Big rocks (or small boulders? Ben thinks pointlessly) line its banks, smoothed by the wildly rushing water. The sound is loud, but Ben also finds it soothing. In fact, he wouldn’t mind lying down for a few, if he wasn’t so sure that the cat would probably make fun of him if he suggested it.
Having circled around the area for a while, Wex returns and lands on one of the higher tree roots.
“We’re clear.” she says. “Let’s take a moment to rest here.” Then, looking at Ben: “And maybe talk some more.”
Beene and Jynx seat themselves against the tree, and Been produces a little pouch of rough, faded blue fabric from inside his robe.
“Should we… strike up a fire?” Ben inquires, relishing the idea of getting a little warm.
“In the middle of the forest? While we’re being pursued? Are you nuts?” Jynx asks, but he doesn’t look at Ben as he says it – it’s more like he’s accepted that Ben is just naturally dull-witted.
Sighing, Ben sits down. Beene reaches deeply into the pouch, as if he’s trying to pick something from the bottom, and finally draws out a chunk of turbid, red crystal, almost twice the size of Ben’s fist. As Beene places it on the ground before them, Ben blinks at what he just saw – there’s no way an object that size could’ve come from such a small pouch.
The crystal begins to glow softly, bathing their nearest surroundings in a dull red hue. Remarkably, Ben starts feeling himself warm up, but it’s as if the feeling is coming from inside him rather than from outside.
“Mmm. That’s better.” says Beene, and reaches into the pouch again.
In the following moments, he takes out a small tea light, a set of four artfully painted cups, and a matching, adorable little teapot. Ben looks away and shakes his head.
Humming softly, Beene takes the teapot to the creek and draws water, then returns and puts the pot on the tea light. Just before he does so, Ben sees that instead of a candle, the tea light has another of those red crystals put into it, this one carved into a flat, cylindrical shape.
The water begins to steam quickly, and Beene shakes some tealeaves into the pot from the same blue pouch. Finally, he pours four cups and offers one to Jynx. Looking like he’s feeling comfortable for the first time since Ben met him, the turtle holds out a cup to Ben.
“Tea?” he asks, smiling humbly.
“Uh… thanks.” Ben replies as he accepts the steaming little cup.
Beene puts the third cup on the ground near Wex, who promptly hops up to it and – somehow, without lips – starts blowing in it, and finally sits down to take the last cup.
Ben sniffs the tea – it smells strong, kind of spicy.
“You wouldn’t happen to have sugar, would you?” he cautiously asks Beene, who then looks uncertainly at the others. Jynx cocks an eyebrow. “Ah… never mind.” Ben says, and takes a quick sip. The tea doesn’t taste particularly good, but it tastes like it might be good for him, and at least it’s nice and hot. They all sit in silence, colored red by the light of the crystal, listening to the rushing of the creek and drinking their tea. Wex keeps darting her beak into the cup, looking like a very ordinary bird drinking from a very ordinary cup of water.
Time passes, and Ben begins feeling very relaxed. It might be the fact that he’s sitting down and that he’s warm, but he suspects the tea has something to do with it as well.
“Now.” Wex says, as she, as the last one, finishes her tea. “We need to talk.”
“I suppose we do.” replies Ben, leaning back against the tree. He’s starting to feel like all this weirdness is no longer so important. He’ll be content if he can just sit here, warm and comfortable.
“So, um. Where do we start?” Beene asks Wex.
“Maybe Ben can tell us a little about where he’s from?” Wex suggested. “It might clear up how he can help us.”
“Sure.” Ben says softly, closing his eyes. “What do you want to know?”
“What’s up with that sigil on your clothes?” Jynx immediately inquires.
Ben opens his eyes again. “What? Sig… Oh, you mean my shirt? Nothing, it’s just name of the store I work for.”
Jynx squints his eyes and haltingly reads out the name. “Stand-by Video Rental? What kind of store is it? Does it sell food?” Suddenly, he looks up as if something significant occurs to him. “Or Mechological parts?”
“No, no.” Ben replies tiredly, not wanting to get back on the topic of ‘Mechology’ right now. “It sells… how do I explain this…” He sits up a little, hands resting on his knees. “Do you have plays over here?”
Beene and Wex share a glance, and Jynx frowns a little. “Plays?” he asks. “Do you mean like, with actors telling a story, or-“
“Yeah, yes, exactly. Stories being acted out. Well, see, on our side, we’ve managed to… put plays in a box, sort of. And if you have a box like that, you can see the play whenever you want. The store where I work has all sorts of those boxes, and for a little money, people can take a box home to watch it. After a while, they have to bring it back.”
Ben sits back again comfortably, feeling clever for explaining things like this. But just as he closes his eyes again, he hears Jynx’s self-assured voice again.
“That doesn’t make any sense. Buying it only for a while? What if someone doesn’t bring them back?”
“Uh… maybe they’re cursed?” Beene suggests. “Oh wait, no. No magic. Never mind. Sorry.”
“And what about the actors? Are they just stuck in those boxes forever, performing their plays over and over again?”
“No, that’s not…” Ben starts, annoyed and sleepy. “You don’t understand. In my world…” he trails off, and finishes with “Never mind. It’s not important.”
He hears Jynx snort lightly. Not wanting to have to do anymore talking, Ben invites Wex: “So tell me, why did you really bring me over here? You said something at the edge of the forest, but it didn’t make any sense.”
There is silence for a moment. Ben imagines he can almost hear the animals looking at one another, maybe deciding who can best tell the story, or what they should – or shouldn’t – tell him. Finally, Wex begins.
“It’s because of something that happened almost a year ago. There was… an earthquake. A very bad one. As far as we can tell, it was felt nearly everywhere, and it did a lot of damage. Entire cities were cracked open like eggs, villages were buried. There were a lot of-“ she pauses briefly, and Ben doesn’t realize until several seconds after what she says next that her voice has cracked a little. “Deaths.”
She lingers on a pause, then continues. “Of course, time passed, the damage was repaired where possible, people picked up their lives again. But everyone could feel something had changed, they just couldn’t lay their finger on it… except for a few.
“It took a few months before it was strong enough that we could notice, and say for sure. People around us wouldn’t believe it, told us we were anything from being foolish to going mad… but when we found out others had noticed as well, we knew. We knew we were right. The sun and the moon were slowing down.”
Ben’s eyes pop open, and he slowly sits up. The animals are eyeing him curiously, as if assessing if he believes them.
He struggles for something to say, finally managing only a frowning “…What?”
As if just waiting for Ben to give him an opening, Jynx immediately starts: “Oh, don’t you give us this too! It’s-“
“Jynx.” Wex says abruptly, and he stops. Then, turning to Ben again, she repeats: “The sun and the moon are slowing down. The days are growing longer and hotter, the nights longer and colder. If we’d have to make a guess, we would say what was once a normal, late summer day now lasts two… maybe two and a half days. But whatever is happening, is happening faster. Dawn and dusk are drifting apart at a rapid pace.”
Ben is reminded of what he’s read about Pole days, where the day and night both last six months.
“But how can people not notice something like that?”
“Lots of reasons.” Jynx says, sounding more serious – and more bitter – than Ben has heard him before. “There’s people who worship the sun or the moon, or both, and see questions as blasphemy. But most of them are just being stubborn. Their leaders insist there’s a sickness going around that’s to blame for people being tired long before the end of the day. They refuse to realize it because it’s too big a thing for them to realize.”
“Maybe their biological clocks are adjusting.” Ben murmurs, mostly to himself.
Jynx seems about to ask him what he’s talking about when Wex says: “But it’s already becoming too big to ignore. More people are understanding what’s going on every-“ she pauses, snorts, and then finishes “Every day.”
Interested to a point where he’s forgotten he was brought here to fix this problem, Ben inquires: “Do you know what’s causing it?”
Wex tilts her head slightly. “We think we do. Several of us, among which we three, met with a man. His name is Apostrophus. He’s… kind of a wizard. I think. He knows a great many things, but he’s very absent-minded most of the time. Or just confused.”
“What Wex is trying to say is, he’s whacked out of his gourd.” Jynx interjects.
“Jynx!” Wex croaks, genuinely shocked. “He’s not mad. Not really. Anyway, he told us a lot of things that answered… some of our questions.”
“Now she’s trying to say that he went on and on about a thousand different topics, like we weren’t even there.” says Jynx
Ignoring him, she goes on: “Apostrophus is a treasure trove of myths. He knows more of them than anyone. Myths about your world. Where men live in peace with machines, and they fight their wars with men and animals of metal that breathe fire. And they ride among the stars in the bodies of huge birds.”
Ben momentarily means to remind her about science fiction, then remembers that will probably get the Mechology debate started again, and decides against it.
“Apostrophus told us many myths we’d never heard before, but the point is – he told us they weren’t myths. He’d seen this world that we told our children stories about when they lay in bed. He’d made drawings of the people that lived there, your people. He told us that you would be able to help us.”
Wanting to direct this conversation away from the idea that he can help these creatures again, Ben asks: “But did he tell you why the sun and the moon are… are slowing down?”
“Yes.” Wex replies. “There is one myth we know, that is very old. All of us were told it when we were children, different versions of it, but they all boil down to the same point. Somewhere in this world, there is a great machine, that is commonly called the Realmheart. It’s a machine that directs the sun and the moon… and there’s something wrong with it.”
Ben thinks this over. It all seems rather silly, and part of it strikes him as very naïve, but he can’t lay his finger on it… something about rotation… it’s hard to think right now.
“That’s what we’re looking for? The machine?” he asks.
“Yes.” Wex answers. “Only…”
“Only you don’t know where it is.” Ben finishes for her, making no effort to hide his sarcasm.
“No.” the bird admits. “But Apostrophus told us it exists. And he thought… maybe, that you would know…”
“I don’t know where it is.” Ben snaps back. He doesn’t want to snap, but he feels tired, and increasingly pissed off at the fact that these creatures who ripped him from his own world don’t even seem to know what they’re doing. “Of course I don’t know where it is, because I don’t know what it is, and I didn’t even know this world existed until a couple of hours ago.”
“Hey, don’t start!” Jynx says, agitated. “It’s not our fault you’re not the Mechologist we expected…”
“You don’t understand, do you?” Ben says, sitting up. His voice is becoming louder. “Your precious Apostle guy was wrong. Yes, my world is real, but it’s not what your myths and stories make it out to be. They’re just stories. I’m not a Mechologist because Mechologists don’t exist, not in my world and not in yours! I can’t help you guys and now I’m stuck here!”
They are silent then. Jynx looks angry, Wex looks shocked, Beene looks at his feet.
“Apostrophus.” the turtle corrects Ben, almost inaudibly. Then: “Oh-oh – I hear something.”
It’s such a sudden change of subject that Ben doesn’t immediately understand, but the other two cock their heads and listen.
“Two.” Beene whispers. “Coming from the south. On the ground.”
“We can’t outrun them here.” Jynx says seriously. “Up the tree then?”
“Won’t they see us? Or smell us?” Wex asks.
“Uh, no. Not with the cloaks.” replies Beene. “That reminds me – “
He again draws out the blue pouch and reaches in it, then pulls out something that looks like a rolled up, brown blanket. He tosses it casually at Ben, who catches it.
“What’s this?” Ben asks sluggishly.
“Put it on.” Jynx grumbles. “They won’t see you.”
If he wasn’t so tired, he would surely ask a couple more questions before doing so, but right now Ben decides to just follow orders. He unrolls the fabric and finds it to be a cloak of the same material as the ones Beene and Jynx are wearing. This one, however, is far bigger. In fact, it looks kind of big even for Ben. But he slips into it anyway, calmly, not letting himself be rushed. The long sleeves make it feel like a straight-jacket.
As he puts on the cloak, Beene and Jynx start scrambling up the tree, where Wex has already seated herself on a high branch. Jynx looks over his shoulder, sees Ben, and for the first time seems genuinely concerned.
“Ben!” he hisses. “Get up here!”
Not answering, Ben stands up and sets his hands on the tree, but it’s like he’s not really making an effort. Sleepiness is in all his limbs.
“What’s wrong with him?” Jynx groans.
“Oh dear.” Beene whispers. “Oh dear, the tea.”
“What about the tea?” Wex chirps from her high branch.
“It’s not for men.” the turtle replies miserably. “Oh, I’m so stupid. Oh dear.”
Cursing and growling under his breath, Jynx lowers himself along the bark again, gesturing impatiently at Beene, who sits rubbing his hands together, to follow. Halfway down, they hastily beckon Ben.
“Come on! Come on, climb up, you Gault-forsaken idiot! They’re coming!” Jynx mutters, and he actually hisses, like cats do.
“Please Mr. Davis, I know you feel tired, but you have to hurry!” Beene adds, looking perfectly unhappy.
Ben looks up at them drunkenly, and as he does so the world actually seems to spin briefly. But despite this, he hears the anxiety in their voices, feels the incoming danger. Adrenalin begins to flow and, to some extent, battle the weariness that’s stealing over him.
He reaches out to get a good hold of the bark, when Wex’s voice from high up above croaks “The stone! Get the stone!”
Ben casts one glance over his shoulder and sees the chunk of crystal, still lying on the ground and spreading its red, warm light. He turns, reaches out and grabs it, all of it feeling like he’s wading through water, like it’s taking forever to complete the action. Behind him, Jynx and Beene still urge him to hurry, one calling him foul names Ben’s never even heard of, the other simultaneously apologizing and beginning to stutter.
Ben clumsily jams the rock in his pants pocket. The majority of it sticks out and it’s painfully pressing against his leg, making him wish he was wearing both looser pants and a belt, so he could hook it behind something. He’s already imagining it falling out of his pocket by the time he’s up the tree. In his growing discomfort, he realizes the rock itself doesn’t feel hot itself – it actually feels like it’s a perfect room temperature.
As he sets his feet against the tree to get a foothold, and the cat and the turtle paw and yank at his arms, Ben hears the rustling of leaves somewhere far off – but not very far. His chest suddenly feels tight, his skin prickly. He realizes in a slightly detached way that he is really beginning to get scared. He doesn’t know what’s coming, but that’s somehow a lot worse than knowing it. That sudden spark of fear seems to wash out most of the fear, and though he, at any normal moment in his life, would probably not have believed himself capable of climbing a tree, he’s suddenly quite good at it. Jynx and Beene barely have to help him and soon make their own way back up the tree, all of them gathering in the thick crown, wide enough for them to almost sit down.
The rustling approaches, faster now.
Beene draws his cloak close around him. Wex hops up to Ben, and Jynx leans in close, whispering: “Listen closely and don’t ask questions. They can’t hear us, but they can smell and they can see. The cloaks make it harder. Hide Wex and hide yourself. If you move, they’ll see us. And they can climb.”
In the corner of his eye, Ben sees the bushes shiver as something passes under them.
The cat stares at him intently with his fiery green eyes, the pupils now dilated into big black circles. Ben realizes he’s looking for confirmation, and he nods once. Wex hops in a little closer, and perches on Ben’s arm. This time, he feels no aversion to having the bird so close, and he draws the cloak around them both. Wex pushes close against him, and he feels her heart beat impossibly fast.
Jynx, satisfied, leans back and wraps himself tightly in his own cloak. Ben feels a ridiculous urge to ask him something, anything, and then something crawls into the clearing.

There is no urge to scream; that’s at least something. That’s the only thing. As Ben sees the thing crawl its way out of the bushes, his mouth seems to instantly turn dry. Cold washes through his bowels, his privates draw tight, and his throat locks up.
He instantly realizes that this is one of the things Beene told him about, an octalyte. However, his description really doesn’t do this thing justice.
Its body is perfectly black and smooth, consisting of three parts. The biggest part appears to be its hind quarters, which it drags along the ground. On each side of the middle part, it has four legs, if that’s what you can call them. They’re nothing like ordinary spider legs. What they most resemble are giant, spiny fingers. Their flesh looks loose and wrinkled, and on each tip, there’s a sharp, flat, shining nail. On either side of its grooved head are clusters of tiny yellow eyes, too many to count. And in the front, sticking out around a crescent mouth full of little ridges of sharp teeth, are three poison jaws, like a triple vice grip.
Ben has a brief, perfectly clear vision of those jaws closing around his head, and nearly fails to stop himself from shaking his head.
The creature, the octalyte, scuttles onto the clearing under the tree, and Ben sees it examine the crockery they forgot to pick up. Perhaps it’s smelling the remains of their tea. Whatever effect it had on Ben, has now migrated into a tiny pocket at the back of his mind, and he is wide awake.
Clumsily, the thing tries to pick up one of the cups. It makes a sound, some kind of hiss, and then shatters the cup by slamming its leg down on it. Next to him, Ben hears Beene suck in a breath, perhaps in fright, perhaps in indignation.
The creature shifts its attention to the red crystal in the tealight, and as it begins what looks to be an attempt to pry it out of its base, a second octalyte crawls out of the bushes. It looks the same as its companion, save that its body is not black and shiny, but gray, dull, and covered in a regular pattern of dark spots. Its legs have that same sick tone of flesh, and it joins the other one at the foot of the tree.
The first octalyte turns to face the other and taps its jaws together at various intervals, generating a rapid clicking sound that sends a wave of sickness through Ben’s stomach and head. The other answers with a clicking sequence of its own, apparently responding. Before Ben can entirely recover from that awful, alien sound, the black octalyte raises its head and looks up the tree.
Ben sits frozen, staring wide-eyed at the spider-like thing, feeling his innards knot up into a hard ball. Any minute now the thing will climb up, they both will, they’ll wrap them all in their fleshy legs and their webs and shoot them full of venom with their vice-like triple jaws and drink their organs like…
The black octalyte lowers its head again, exchanges another pattern of clicking with its companion, and gets in motion. They both scuttle up to the creek, seem to pause to consider it, and then proceed to follow it downstream. After a while, they vanish from sight. Later than that, the sound of their pushing through the foliage is gone.
Up in the tree, Ben and his animal companions still sit in perfect stillness. None of them seems ready to accept that they’re safe. Then their silence is broken by a sudden croaking, muffled voice seeping out from under Ben’s cloak:
“Ben – you’re crushing me!”
One by one, they exhale deeply, and Ben opens his cloak to let the bird out. Wex ruffles her feathers several times, and says “I’m sorry, but I was about to choke. I couldn’t hold still any longer.”
“It’s OK, Wex.” Jynx says, stretching himself carefully. “I think they’re gone far enough now.”
“Uh.” Beene stutters. “Mr. Davis, sir. Are you ah, are you alright?”
Ben considers the question, and answers: “No. I don’t think I am.”