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Everything was quiet.
Almost everything.
The howling wind was all Saint heard. The howling wind singing songs sounding like rain deer in agony. The songs that always accompanied the frost that bit like red lizards. No, not red lizards, their jaws were nothing in comparison to the way this cold bit. It didn’t just chill to the bone. It froze to the core. Surviving that torrent left scars deeper than any blade could cut, forever planting the seeds of white moss on one’s soul. Surviving this tempest would ensure that one would never be warm again.
This was all Saint heard and all Saint felt as she sat in the shelter. This shelter was just like all the rest. Cold metal, hard floor, once a little overgrown with invading foliage but has long since been reduced to a withered ash by the frigid temperatures.
Saint sat awake. Awake and wide eyed. She had long since given up meditation. She’d accepted what she was and what she always would be. She was no god, no supernatural being. She was no savior. She was a criminal. A horror. So long ago, she believed the flowers of peace were what bloomed in her pawsteps. She looks back now and sees blood. She looks down now at her own paws and sees red on them.
Saint had accepted this long ago, but wasn't quite ready to go through with it. She had hope she could save herself and find some way to be an actual savior. But deep down in the depths of her mind, perhaps in the heart and the very core of one of her previous selves, she knew she could never reform. She always knew this. For all the time she’d existed, since she once stood tall in her can to her death and collapse and this new green cloak she wore, she knew this would happen.
She couldn’t end it. That’s what ate at her the most.
The Saint wanted nothing more than to explode. To split right down the middle and watch herself paint the walls. She wanted to be in pain, so much pain, and then cease to exist. Tears would have formed and potentially flooded the shelter but she had felt this way so much before she’d become numb to it. Like taking too many painkillers, becoming resistant to them, and accepting the fact that you’d just hurt forever.
Nothing was quiet.
The only thing that rang in her ears was the whispering of the blizzard, but her brain was so full of thoughts that the sound of the snow didn’t reach her. The melodies of all her woes and the lamenting that echoed and ricocheted right inside the flesh of her tongue and below the skin on her fangs was all she felt for the duration of the blizzard.
She didn’t realize she was sitting back on her haunches and grasping her lantern until it shattered in her claws and the glowing paste burned her. She would have screeched curses and cried out in pain, but none of it reached her nervous system. Her sharp wide eyes snapped to the embers that flew about the broken shell and the winking oranges and reds within the black that ate away at her fur.
Shit. That’s the third one this dekacycle.
She guessed she’d just have to freeze a little faster until her fur grew back, if it did at all. It would grow back. If her stupid fucking moldy teddy bear of a vessel didn’t regenerate like the microbes in these walls, she would’ve had a new one quite literally three million cycles ago.
The only choice she had was to sleep. She curled up and tried to wrap her tail around her only to remember it was naturally shorter than her ears.
She didn’t sleep.
…
The next cycle was more of the usual.
As the shelter unsealed with an agonizingly great deal of noise, the usual splitting headache and flash of blue light with the faintest sound of a tolling bell rang in her ears for a very long second. There would be an echo before the next Karma Gate.
She emerged from her shelter and was greeted with the corpse of Five Pebbles, his steam vents that once stood so high and mighty now limp and powdered with snow. Her sharp, dark eyes could just barely make out a sickly brown mobile rot cyst spidering blindly and deafly deeper through the twisted innards of the god it once plagued. She needed to go that way. Goddamnit.
At least she could kill the rot cysts without any regret eating at her. These things were not alive, they were just remnants of cancer that were ill themselves. Weak creatures, deprived of all senses but touch. Saint pitied them.
Snapping her clawed fingers and activating her weapon like flicking open a lighter, her eyes inverted to bright flashing colors with tiny black pupils. A paw was raised, pointed at the Brother Long Legs, and with a bang, it was limp and black.
She dropped back to the ground and continued stumbling along the cold metal floor, searching her way not exactly deeper into Five Pebbles, but past him. Fortunately, the only other threats she encountered were spiders and centipedes, all pretty easy to evade with her grapple tongue. The dirty structure didn’t taste all that great, though.
Saint unfortunately got stuck hiding from a red armored centipede for half the time the snowfall was weakest. Her fur was turning white and the lantern mice were retreating into their dens as she hastily wrapped her tongue around slime mold globules and practically swallowed them whole. Why did she have to break her lantern and halfway bald herself? Her large paws and half of her stomach were pink with exposed skin.
There was a shelter nearby, she knew. Unfortunately, it was through a puddle of nasty stagnant water, so she was slipping through the entrance and listening to it seal behind her with her legs and half of her waist stiff with a layer of ice.
…
“Funny green thing…” The dark cyan slugcat giggled as it watched her slip through the entrance. It turned and flicked its tiny wings before they grew in size and it was three floors above, resting out in the open, immune to the bitterness.
…
The next cycle was quite uneventful.
Saint awoke again with the horrible headache, blue light, and the bell, and she wanted to curse out whatever being caused that. She knew perfectly well there was an echo here! Shut up! What’s with the urgency!?
In any case, past the scissor birds she swung herself, crossing the cold hard lake as the world got bluer and more warped, and gold fell with the snow in increasing quantities. She ignored the shelter halfway up the shattered leg, as it’d just offset her progress. She reached the apex in no time, and her gaze was locked on the frozen Shoreline in the distance rather than the diamond-patterned gold on the ancient head before her. She knew this echo’s name. Six Grains Of Gravel, Mountains Abound. They spoke.
“Our presence has been revealed to you now, young one.
The attunement has become... much nearer.
Like a ripple distorted upon a moonlit reflection.
Repetitous, seemingly endless strife.
An unimaginable curse.
Swim with the tide or against it.”
Saint fell back asleep and awoke in her shelter. Her karma was not raised, she was already at the maximum. How ironic.
She did not ponder over the meaning of Six Grains’ words. She’d heard them all before. Nearly half the ancient population was scattered over the world in the bodies of echoes. Although, it did hurt to hear their voice. They were a regular visitor of Five Pebbles, she had heard good of them through Moon when she stood in her can and used her communications arrays.
Again, just as the previous cycle, she left her shelter and got to work burning her paws with movement through hard snow. There was nothing but cold. She wasn’t there mentally, there was nothing to really see in this dead place. Not even predators. She watched her orange and green ombre paws desaturate and resaturate as she went in and out of insulated rooms. She was in a long narrow hall, just exiting a Karma Gate, and she heard a thud somewhere nearby. She snapped back to reality, head going up, eyes wide, and –
“HELLO !!!”
“AAAH –”
She fell onto her back, more startled than she had been in ages. Her dark eyes were wide.
“Hewwo! Hi! Here, let Enot help you!” Something tugged at her hand and helped her get up off her back. She rubbed her spine in soreness as she inspected her… companion. The more she looked at it, the more emotion sprouted in her eyes.
It was a slugcat… or rather a strange creature with a form based on one. Its upper half was such a dark blue it was almost black, and its color faded in waves down its back and torso until its tail was plated with a bright cyan. Red waves seemed to outline it, the very background trying to reject its presence. Its eyes were a white that glowed almost blindingly, but were sprightly and full of innocence. From its thin red outline of a mouth smiled off-white fangs that were large and sharp enough to gut a lizard in one dive. It was unusually shaped, tall and thin, with two medium-large wings sprouting from its shoulder blades down its back, one was feathered like a bird and the other was leathered like a bat. Both its ears and tail sported an unusual length, but not exaggeratedly. As it spoke she saw its tongue was white.
“Pretty, isn’t me?” It asked as it put a fragile paw onto its collarbone and made a proud face as it grinned.
“...You could… say that, I suppose.”
Its proud demeanor faltered a bit as the smallest hint of a blush creeped up behind their eyes.
“You said your name was… Enot, yes?”
“I – I – Well yes, Enot supposes…” It looked down and kicked a little bit of dirt and rocks shyly.
“It is an admirable name, if odd. Speaking of, you are quite odd yourself…”
“Really?” It looked up at Saint with raised ears and a tiny sparkle in its eyes. “...This is a good thing, yes?”
“Yes, it is. In all my existence not once have I seen a creature such as you.” Saint circled it slowly, inspecting closely, curiously. What an interesting being!
Its tail started to sway a little and its smile grew in diameter a bit.
“I do have a few small questions for you, friend.” Saint sat back on her haunches and placed her paws in front of her, sitting like a cat. She could afford to linger and make a companion here, in this lonely life. Maybe… just maybe… it would stay…
“Ask away! Enot loves questions!”
“Why would you happen to be so thin? It is simply a miracle you don’t freeze in an instant.”
“Enot needs lots of food to be able to sleep, unfortunately, and Enot cannot store much at all for next cycle.”
“I see. How are you so… warm? Even without touching you, you practically radiate body heat, but you’re not scorching.”
“Ooh, Enot doesn’t actually know, itself! It just never feels cold at all, methinks. It’s quite useful, the snowy scenery is so pretty even – especially – in the heart of the blizzard, sometimes!”
“Interesting… Where did you come from?”
“Enot isn’t sure, actually. All it remembers… is… falling. Falling from the sky, from super duper high up! First thing it remembers is seeing the stars. Then it… hit the water. Heard a muffled sound, like… uh… someone laughing! Enot knows, it was super weird. Hitting the water didn’t hurt though! And it didn’t drown! So that might be something!”
Saint stared.
“...Intriguing. Intriguing indeed. In any case – no judgment of course – What’s with the way you talk? In the third person?”
“Oh! Enot just thinks it works for it, fits its nature? Makes Enot feel silly like it wants to and more comfortable in its skin and fur!”
“That’s very nice!”
“Now it's Enot’s turn to ask questions! If friend doesn’t mind?”
“I don't mind!” She smiled at being called a friend.
“What would friend’s name be?” An innocent, wide grin and a head tilt.
“Saint.”
“OoooOOoh!! Enot thinks that is a very pretty name!”
“Thank you!”
“Now where did Saint come from?”
She looked down at her paws. Her eyes were lidded, her brow furrowed. She couldn’t answer that.
“...Saint…?”
“I would rather… not talk about this.”
“That’s okie! You don't have to! Uhhmm… How long has you been around?”
“A… a very long… time.”
“Ohhhh… are you old?”
“Not in the ways most creatures are.”
“Interesting!!! What does Saint like to eat?”
“I quite enjoy pupa fruit.”
“Oh! Oh! Enot, too! What does Saint think of…”
A long time passed of Saint and Enot simply asking questions and making friends. So long, in fact, that the entirety of the blizzard passed and the snowfall was already weak again. Saint never noticed – she had eaten enough and being near Enot was enough to keep her as warm – even more so – than hibernating in those metal boxes. She never smiled so often before.
“It… it got a bit warm in here, don't you think?” Saint asked. They were still sitting in the hall talking, watching lantern mice flash their light language at each other, hanging from the ceiling, playing. With the hall being insulated well, the snow being weak, and Enot generating as much heat as fifteen lanterns, as well as Saint sitting next to it so closely, it was quite uncomfortably hot. If she weren’t covered in fluff, she would have been sweating.
“Is Saint too warm?”
“Y-yeah, I think…”
“That’s okie! Enot was kinda wanting to go on a walk and explore with Saint, anyway! Is that alright with Saint?” It got off its tail – it had been suspended in the air, that tail was shockingly powerful – and walked a few steps down the hall.
“Of course!” She got up as well.
They left the hall and the collapsed section of the exterior into the frozen coast. The wind blew gently, but chillingly, and a comfortable temperature was reached once again, almost instantly. Saint smelled it, carrying the hints of sea salt, the lemony aroma of glow weed far in the distance, and the electricity of giant jellyfish. She had a much better sense of smell than the average slugcat. A sigh left her.
“Is Saint okay?” Enot tilted its head at her.
Saint just nodded. A smile sat on her mouth, wide. Having a companion here… in this lonely place… the world was more enjoyable. Much more enjoyable. The smallest things she used to ignore, consider annoying, or outright a detriment… They were beautiful. She couldn't remember being so happy, even when her metal framework held her above the rains she produced. Even as a god, she was less happy than she would be as a green cat in the snow.
“Oooh! Look!” Enot pointed a paw upwards. Saint’s gaze followed the angle.
Looks to the Moon’s collapsed, cold can in the distance.
“It’s just Moon, Enot. Wanna go see her?”
“No, no, Enot sees something! Can it show you?” It held out both of its paws, as if offering Saint to take them. “Make sure to hold on tight!”
Saint knew what it was doing. She was reluctant. Very reluctant.
She took the paws.
“Okie! Like Enot said, hold on very tight!”
The wings on its back stretched and pumped, and they were several meters off the ground in an instant. Saint shouted in surprise. Enot tossed her upwards beneath it and held her tighter for security.
Saint watched as the world passed beneath her. The wind howled and her face freckled with snow they flew into, but none of it was cold. The dark blue paws around her chest, the shore moving clearly below, the gentle warmth she felt despite everything white…
As they approached Moon’s collapse can, there was a section of wall that stuck out. One of her old steam vents, wrenched when she fell, still relatively flat and walkable. A yellow glow caught her eyes.
Enot swooped down and brushed away the snow with its tail. The snow melted so fast upon direct contact with its fur, it might have simply vanished. The two slugcats dropped gently out of the air and just looked at each other. After a moment, spoke Enot:
“How’d Saint enjoy the flight?”
“It was… okay! I could get used to it.”
Saint pretended not to notice the tiny bit of embarrassment that emerged on Enot’s face again.
She turned towards the source of glowing yellow she saw in the air – a Karma Flower. Over she trotted and plucked it gently from the ground. Enot approached her and tilted its head at her. She handed it the Karma Flower.
Enot took the Flower. With nothing else said, however, it quickly got to work simply tucking it behind one of Saint’s upward curled ears. It petted the fur on her cheek softly for the briefest second, and pulled away, a soft small grin on its face.
Saint stared and tried her best to stifle the hotness that was threatening to bloom on her face. She swallowed nervously.
Enot just turned and laid down on the edge of the steam vent, sweeping with its wing away the snow next to it. It looked back at Saint with some kind of tenderness in its eyes as she approached and laid down next to it.
If only she'd seen this view sooner. Away to the west, the faint suns were setting and painting the dreary sky with pinks and oranges. The shore waters that were usually deadly frigid and harboring nothing but danger, were alight with fire from the sky and striking colors against the white, gray and blue. A feathered wing shyly reached out and tented over her, trembling nervously, like a fragile plant searching for somewhere to root in the cold.
Saint felt the feathers come down onto her gently, in a hug-like position, and she didn't mind it one bit.
She realized that if she were the same being she was four cycles ago, she would have bit the wings and sprinted away.
This creature is changing me, she realized.
She stole a look at its face. It was gazing at her softly and happily before it looked away quickly, hoping she didn't notice.
I think that's a good thing.
“Is Saint hungry? The cycle is getting… uh… quite long, is Saint tired?”
“Y-yeah, I think…” She yawned. “Let's go inside, real quick.”
There was an entrance pipe behind them that neither bothered to investigate before. They took that chance now, slipping easily through.
The room inside Moon’s old wall was very well insulated, and a surprising quantity of blue pupa fruit grew here. Saint had eaten enough almost instantly, and there was plenty for Enot to have its fill, too. There was no shelter.
Enot lay down in a corner of the room, on top of a pile of overgrown trash discarded long ago, softened by time and foliage. Dotted with tiny inedible buds of slime mold. It opened its leathered wing as if inviting Saint to lay down.
It was so cold. But the cold never even tried to touch Saint, wrapped asleep in a bright wing and a dark friend. For once, she had good dreams.
…
The snowfall was weak again and Enot was the first to awake. Saint was so fast asleep she almost seemed dead, but it knew better, so it left to feed itself for the cycle. A note was scratched on the wall with a sharpened rock:
Hewwo Saint! You seemed really sleepie so Enot left to go get food for itself! Will return soon, don't worries! ♡
It'd flown down unto the shore at alarming speeds and hunted and ate enough Salamanders to fill it for the cycle. Washing its face with seawater and shaking violently to dry, sweeping up back onto the wall again, it found Saint still asleep… so it went back down to gather some fruit for her when she did awake. Came back… still asleep. It just giggled and smudged the note on the wall away.
It was halfway through the cycle when she did finally wake. She stretched and yawned and inspected herself – her fur had grown back! – before looking at Enot and then the pile of fruit. It grinned and its long cyan tail wagged like a tamed lizard when it saw a small corpse in your paws.
“Hewwo! Did Saint sleep okie? Here's some food.”
Enot passed her a pawful of blue fruits. She gratefully took them.
“Yes, thank you, I…” She yawned again. “I do think I slept alright.
“While Saint was asleep, Enot was thinking of places to explore and remembered some good ones! Do you wanna go see?”
“Would you mind telling me what you have in mind?”
“What if Enot wants it to be a surpriiissseee?”
She just laughed. “Okay, fine, you don't have to tell me.”
Enot left the little cave in the metal framework and Saint quickly followed suit, seeing the sky gray with blizzarding clouds and a half-moon visible in the blue beyond a hole. Wherever Enot walked, the snow vanished.
“We is gonna need to fly pretty far! Saint is okie with that?”
“Mhm!”
Enot crouched and stretched a wing to touch the floor, and Saint clumsily climbed onto its back. Slowly it stood, shifting and helping her get comfortable.
“A-are you sure you're okay? I know I'm quite heavy…”
“Saint, Enot promises it's okay! Look, wrap your paws around its neck, helps with stability.”
She did so. Enot lowered like readying to pounce and flicked its wings a few times to prepare for flight.
“You ready?” It looked back at her.
She nodded.
Enot jumped off the ledge of the steam vent, diving down a few meters before catching the air with its wings, rising again and leveling out. Saint had to let her heart rate lower for a second.
This was nice. Really nice. With the gentle giant of strangeness and smiles radiating heat and carrying her through wonderful weird lands, the wind propelling snow and chills and scents into her face…
She didn't realize she was purring. It took all of Enot's might not to call her adorable and embarrass her.
Even after they had landed and were making their way through the sewers towards the train system farthest south, Saint stayed on its back and only stopped purring when there was a predator in sight — only once.
…
They spent two cycles in the train tunnels, rather uneventful, the crypt guardians largely ignored their presence and the crawls through the red maze was fairly smoothly gone. As she knew the snow was strongest, Saint and Enot were passing through a gate into the old drainage system, now overgrown with flora and fauna beyond most creatures’ wildest dreams.
Once more, the toll of the bell with the blue light and split second migraine. She winced and clutched her head.
“Is Saint okay??”
“Yes, yes, I’m okay! I'm alright! We should probably rest soon, anyway…”
“...If Saint says so.”
Its ears were lowered in concern and it held her paws in its own gingerly as it stared into her eyes. It reluctantly brought a hand to the top of her head and pet. A purr was drawn out of Saint.
“Mm…” Enot started shyly.
“Hm?”
“...does Saint know she purrs…?”
“Wh – huh – w-what..?”
“When Enot pets you. Like a little happy vibrating noise from Saint’s throat. Kinda… cute…”
“I am not cute!!”
All Enot did was giggle and kept doing so as they bedded down in the shelter on the other side of the gate.
…
Saint spent all cycle as she slept pacing circles around herself. Around and around she kept on going, wondering why she was the way she was.
What was wrong with her?
Once she stood so far above the land in her metal can and weird, grotesque, probably-not-even lungs that were just glorified water purification and energy conversion conduits. Once she was so great that she granted creatures far beneath her the capacity to understand her and grasp at the straws and burning ropes that were what she was studying whilst also needing to teach. Once she was so high and mighty that a mere exhalation from her great steel vents could halve wildlife populations if she tried.
Now she was one of the wild lives she thought herself to be above. She was more tied to the cycle than she ever was, and likely ever would have been.
She now knows the cycle far better than she ever could have in her handmade framework and the puppet she used to express and control. She knows that nothing ever dies. Not even ascension wipes out a being. She knows that she died. She lives again, with all her neuron flies and files from her processing strata and every square inch of data from her memory conflux compacted, folded, squeezed and tucked away into the ridges of flesh housed in her fragile skull. She knows what happened.
She knows what she is.
So why is she that?
Maybe she wasn’t meant to die. Maybe she wasn’t meant to ascend. Maybe she failed. Maybe she lied about the triple affirmative. Maybe upon her death and her vessel’s uninhabitable state, the great worms that she never had known about decided she should be spared. Maybe they sent her back. Maybe they placed her in this humbling form on purpose.
Did they send her to teach the ways of breaking such a cycle, or did they send her back just to continue the Greater Cycle, that of ascension and reincarnation? Is she one of the grandeur-rambling Echoes that she is so familiar with, or is she simply a wild animal who used to be something greater than everything combined?
Is she the cat or the mouse in this wonderful chase?
…
And what was with Enot?
It was obviously not of this world. Even the way it holds its very atoms together, like they’re constantly shaking, needing to be bundled messily together to avoid bursting at the seams and dying, was alien. Its appearance was alien. Its voice was alien. Even its way of moving was alien. Everything about its color palette was odd. Everything about its build was odd. Everything about its eyes, its ears, its tail and its wings…
Was odd.
So why did Saint love it so much?
What a rude awakening that thought was, ouch.
Saint, the wild and unreal physical manifestation of a dead god walking, holding the power to create and destroy simultaneously, holding the power to remove a soul from existence with the flick of a lighter and the point of a paw. Saint, this fantastical and horrific amalgamation of corrupt qualia and death made tactile… had fallen in love with an alien.
She didn’t know how to feel about that.
…Maybe she did.
She dreamt back on the past five-ish cycles since she’d found this thing outside a Karma gate. She dreamt back further and tried to remember a time she’d ever been so happy. Maybe, just maybe, she could ignore her godhood. Maybe she could embrace this role that she had now, a beast in the wilds, moving on and on in a way greater than simple nomadism, spiraling down and up, sideways and at angles in dimensions beyond what you and I can comprehend. Maybe she didn’t have to do so alone. She didn’t want to do so alone.
Saint was a lonely god. Enot was a lonely god. They had met each other, standing in the snow, wide eyes, one frostbitten and dying and the other just fine. They had seen each other, standing on metal grates, Enot holding her face and telling her she was cute.
Two lonely gods in a lonely world…
Saint came to a few conclusions that cycle.
…
She was awoken as she was gently shoved.
“Saint…? Is Saint okay??”
“Hmm…? Yes, yes, I’m okay…” She sat up and stretched in a very cat-like manner, and one could easily hear the popping of her vertebrae.
“Oh! Okay, sorry, Enot was just a little worried because it had been trying to wake you up for, like, five minutes already!”
“I suppose I’m just a hard sleeper, then. No need to apologize!” Now that I’m actually sleeping, I guess it's reasonable I seem dead in the mornings.
“Okie, uhm. Is it time to go into the next place now?”
“Yes, I think so! You lead the way for now.”
Enot slipped through the shelter exit and as soon as Saint was alone, in the split second before she followed, the bell rang and the headache came and all she saw was blue. She emerged clutching her head again to recover from the soreness that the migraine left her with. The pain could be described as comparable to someone mistaking your head for a baseball and treating it as such. Tears had formed in the corners of her eyes, when Enot gently cupped her face again and spoke.
“Something is wrong with Saint. Can she please tell Enot? It's starting to worry.”
“... What do you mean…?”
“Saint keeps grabbing her head like she has a headache.”
“I’m alright. I swear. It’s just something I get when I wake up sometimes.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know, actually. It’s just always happened.”
Enot sat back on its heels and its long tail lashed in uncertainty and concern. It kept looking at her, studying her closely. She just looked back. It twitched a finger of its leather wing.
“If Saint says so. I trust her.”
Saint flicked an ear and grinned.
“She said Enot was leading the way?”
“If you’d like.”
“Okay… we will see how this goes.”
It was dark when they left the gate room, and Enot quickly had to give up the lead to Saint. Its wings were not well fit for the low overgrown ceilings and wet air of Undergrowth, nor for the monster kelp inhabiting borderline every water source. Saint’s possession of a long grapple-like tongue came as a highly useful tool for traversing the jungle instead, and an extreme surprise to Enot; it’d never seen it used before. It was intrigued, but held back on the curiosity for now.
Saint had zero problem traversing the wild place with Enot on her back. It was even lighter than it seemed, almost concerningly so. Everything went surprisingly smoothly, in spite of the density and quality of predators. The grapple tongue made evasion excessively easy. She originally had no intention to, but pulling off a cool move attached to the ceiling drew a small gasp of awe from the creature on her back, and she just had to keep doing it subtly. Those little noises of glee were all she needed to live in those moments.
They had just passed a red centipede in a long sewage room, with a grand window allocating for a view of the snowy outdoors.
“Hey, Saint?”
“Hm?”
“Wanna see something cool??”
“Sure! What is it?”
“Sssshhhh!! Just watch!!”
Enot dismounted Saint’s shoulders and started heaving and coughing. Saint was a little off-put until it coughed up… an egg? With a red marking on one side? Hm.
It just giggled as it flew on quiet wings towards the red centipede. Saint watched closely.
It was obviously making sure to keep its distance. It seemed to tense its arm muscles, widening its stance a little, grinning a bit evilly. The egg was raised above its head in one paw, held tightly, prepared and thrown. Instantly Enot turned tail and flew and told Saint to brace herself.
Simultaneously, the egg made hard contact with a scale plate on the red centipede and the plate shattered. The egg… weirdly enough, began to hover and emit loud screeching sounds. Some gravity pulled everything in the immediate vicinity towards it, including the red centipede, three other infant centipedes, several batflies, two snails, and all the gentler frost that had clung to the foliage. Saint felt herself pulled towards it, but less like a trap and more like a wind. She dug her claws into the metal ledge she was on. Never was she so frightened, but never so intrigued, either.
The egg exploded. A shockwave came over the whole room and knocked Saint incapacitated for a few seconds. She could hear nothing but ringing for a full minute at least. She sat up and blinked like she had just been woken from hibernation instead of knocked out cold by a bomb. Enot was standing over her, looking worried as usual, mouthing something to her but all she heard it speak was tinnitus ringing. It sat by her as she shook her head and recovered.
“Saint? Saint, are you alright?” She heard its voice fade in as her hearing returned.
“Mhm, I’m okay. What was that?”
“It was egg! Egg is very powerful and helps me get lots of food fast.”
“Oohh..” She watched as Enot flapped down again towards the flooded open room and ripped a few plates off of the red centipede corpse. It had done this before, eat meat in front of her, but it always killed it with a spear rather than… egg. The limp insect was slowly stripped of its armor and flesh as Enot ate the strangely large amount it needed in order to sleep, and it returned to her as soon as it was finished.
“You got a little… something, here…” Saint licked the pawtip of her thumb and wiped at Enot’s short face fur, smudging away a bit of red centipede blood.
Enot’s face noticeably grew brighter and warmer, and its tail waved subtly. Saint internally smiled brighter than she ever had before, but nothing showed on her face until she turned and led it into the next room, where it couldn't see her expression for a moment. A scent of realization gently and sweetly permeated the immediate vicinity of Enot and Saint knew what that meant, but she couldn’t bring herself to think about it from sheer nerves.
Enot was on Saint’s back again and they continued onwards toward shelter.
This shelter was especially small.
…
Saint woke up before Enot this cycle, and the headache subsided faster. She simply sat and thought and waited as the shelter got ready to break its seal and her companion would awake.
Tiny noises escaped the colorful heap next to her and it wiggled, signaling its waking. Its head came up and yawned, wide, showcasing terrifying sharp teeth and an abnormally long white tongue. Saint looked on curiously. Its jaw snapped shut and it licked its lips with sleepiness before getting up and stretching in time with the beat of the shelter unsealing. It stayed up sitting and looked at her.
They just looked at each other for a while.
Saint startled as she realized they were just staring and moved to leave the shelter. She saw Enot climb out of the hole after her as she scaled up a few steps of the pole ladders along the wall there. She signaled for Enot to climb onto her back and it did as usual, almost happily. She detected the odd metallic scent of gold and old books on the damp jungle air and followed it to where she knew an ancient friend of hers lay awaiting. Enot chittered on, making small talk, absentmindedly bonding with its green companion. Everything was good.
They were in the near-pitch black darkness half a cycle later, illuminated only by the giant glowing mushrooms that grow here, and nowhere else. A familiar song was whispered in her ears by the presence of this old soul nearby. She knew what this was and it ripped her heart inside out to hear it again. The last song this Ancient sang before diving into gold and leaving their first body behind. A hymn, a goodbye, a warning, everything and nothing at once. It scared her, comforted her, pressed her heart and lungs into such a compact mix she thought she would black out and wake up again in the shelter with Enot by her side. It was an odd feeling indeed.
Enot had taken the lead for a split second to fly them both up the gap leading to where this remnant was.
Saint saw this unfamiliar face, felt this familiar presence. Listened to this familiar song. Fighting back the smallest tears. She knew well what they said by now.
…
“Do you see the same as me?
Beauty continuing to bloom even in a place long forgotten.
I did not have the will to depart, nor the desire.
Why did they always search for an escape, as if we were imprisoned?
What offering from the void could usurp the gift of life already given?
This moment, right here! It is where we are meant to be.”
…
Saint thought long and hard on this as she fell back asleep.
With Enot by her side these past ten or so cycles, these statements had never rang more true for her. She had been focusing on the beauty of the world and everything in it, and focusing on her new companion.
Her mind gingerly touched a paw to the word “companion” before wincing and shying away.
She decided Rhinestones Beneath Shattered Glass was right. Life was no prison. Not anymore. This is where they were meant to be.
…
Saint and Enot awoke at the same time this cycle, curled around each other for warmth as the shelter had long since opened. Saint didn’t know if they were both truly asleep or if they were awake with their eyes closed, and if they did or didn’t know their position, and if they stayed just because they were too scared of conversing about it.
Enot opened its eyes first only on account of its growling stomach. Saint did immediately afterwards and they both left the shelter again after a good stretch. They sat on a ledge watching a monster kelp wiggle helplessly after snails as they discussed a small thing.
“You said you wanted to show me some good places? Are we anywhere near?”
“Shhhh!! But yes, we are!” Enot dissolved into giggles as it took Saint’s left paw and dragged her forward.
They headed backwards through the sewers and foliage and mosses and molds towards the old filtration system. Saint stayed behind Enot whenever possible, mostly to keep it safe and make sure everything was alright, but a little bit because the lighter cyan near the end of its tail shimmered quite beautifully in the cold sunlight of the windows and the dim green glows of the general region.
Void below. I really am pathetic.
…
They reached the filtration system within 3 or 4 cycles – Saint couldn't track the snowfall as easily in the depths of an underground jungle. The tubes and tunnels were a breeze again, a short trek out and up, mostly devoid of hazards since the mole lizards had long since either wandered into the void or out of the system. The old subway system wasn't nearly as easy.
The ceilings were long and flat, very good for swinging with the grapple tongue. Enot was on Saint’s back again, going on about old pearls it used to write and read and generally how much it liked shiny things. A monster kelp was up ahead. Saint decided she wanted to impress Enot a little, so she picked up her swinging speed and tried to dart right past.
Tried.
The kelp was quick to react and plucked Enot right off of Saint’s back. It quickly lost its grip, though, and the dark cyan slugcat fell to the floor, stunned and dazed. Saint didn't realize it was gone until the clanging feet and snipping beaks of the crypt guardian was audible and almost directly atop Enot. Saint panicked.
The lighter was struck. The paw was quickly pointed.
Everything was loud.
The black bird fell limp next to Enot.
It looked at her with fear in its eyes.
She looked back with tears.
She fell to the ground again and blinked, her eyes returning to dark sclera, pastel pupils, and her paws barely catching her upright. She staggered underneath a piece of rubble, safe from the other birds, and just sat there. Enot was on its feet and gingerly approaching her.
It shyly touched a paw to her shoulder, almost afraid of contact. She didn't react, so it tenderly sat down beside her and looked at her eyes. She avoided its gaze.
It observed her closely. She was breathing fast, but trying to hide it. She was crying, holding her paws tight together, ears flicking and twitching at random, holding herself tightly together like she was about to explode and needed to keep herself from doing so.
She was panicking. Enot knew that much.
She was drawn into a gentle, but firm hug. It held her tight, wordlessly promising never to let her go, telling her she would always be safe with it. Everything would be okay, she would be okay, everything is alright. She reluctantly turned her face into its chest and sobbed quietly.
Saint didn't want to do that. She never wanted to use her weapon if she could help it. She had to, that time. To save Enot.
So why did it rip her apart so much?
Saint knew the nature of ascension and the cycle. A soul would keep on living, dying and waking, ascending and reincarnating, until the end of time. Unless an ascension failed. The soul then ceased to exist.
Saint’s weapon was always failed ascensions. They always killed.
She was a murderer.
Enot was smart. It knew that. But it knew she didn't want to, it knew she had to, and it knew that she wasn't really a murderer. She was plagued with something, a weapon, a curse, a feral force she couldn't exactly control. It knew that the weapon would have to rear its ugly head from time to time. It would never blame her for that.
Enot hardly even realized it was holding her head softly and petting the fur on the back of her head and neck. It definitely realized her tearful shaking gentled and slowed. One hand holding, the other stroking softly, two wings extended and embracing her. She calmed down, though it definitely took a while.
They stayed like that for a long time. Sitting there, doing nothing but being together. The snow intensified greatly, but Saint was kept warm by the otherworldly vibrations of heat that this creature gave off. The wind howled, but Saint could do nothing but tune it out and listen to something else. Enot was humming.
The gentle, electrical tune that her superstructure was resonating with in her last waking cycles. The gentle tune that she sang to the spiders, fireflies and wasps that wiggled into her weakening underbelly, finding safe harbor in her internals, that probably still found safe harbor in them to this very cycle. The soft hum that she sang to the creatures, not as a goodbye, but as a promise that they'd always be welcome in her and her corpse. They were safe.
Enot was humming that exact tune to her now.
It's wings gently tightened around her and she extended her arms around it, too. She realized she began to purr, but she didn't think she minded it anymore. She felt the resonating warmth around Enot intensify just the slightest, in tiny bursts of joy hearing her soft sounds.
She realized she loved being held like this.
…
They did have to find shelter, though, so they reluctantly got up and moved westward still. Saint was on Enot’s back and they were flying – Saint still felt a little too bad to move around much. It understood completely. The Miros Birds were thankfully everywhere but where the two needed to go, eating centipedes and lizards and whatnot. Everything went smoothly as could be with Enot's gentle wings and remarkable maneuverability.
A train car was open and insulated, with a sealing entrance. They bedded down in there, shyly but eventually curling up to rest around one another.
With heavy, tear-dried eyes, the last thing Saint saw that cycle was the way the dark blues and greens of Saint’s thick fluff and Enot’s shorter, cat-like fur mixed where they touched and was quite pretty.
…
Early in the next cycle, they were standing looking at the train car hanging dangerously off the edge of the collapsed pier.
“...is this where you wanted to take me?”
“Mhm!”
Saint tried to look down into the distance, past the cold fog and what lied beyond the pier, but the white and gray of the tundra air was too thick.
“It's nice! Just wish there was a bit more of a view.”
“There will be!!”
“Hm?”
“Oh! Oh! Enot almost forgot! Come on!”
Enot lowered itself to a quadrupedal crouch onto the ground and extended the leathery wing down and out beside it. An obvious invitation to climb onto its back again. Saint did so.
“Hold on tight!”
Enot trotted happily to the very edge of the broken pier and peered down into the abyss with a grin on its face. It got ready to pounce again and they were in the air once again. Going even farther westward and down.
Saint didn't know if she would ever admit how much she loved to fly with Enot. She doubted she needed to, as she could already feel an admiring grin over Enot’s teeth as she purred. She didn't even try to silence herself. She deserved to be happy.
…
Saint only realized she had dozed off on its back when it landed and she jolted awake. She dismounted and looked around.
To the left and the right of them was rubble vaguely resembling train cars and ladders and railroads and support pillars. Behind them was an immense wall, presumably the retaining wall from Five Pebbles and Looks To The Moon’s facility ground. In front of them were the mostly intact ruins of a building.
Enot was ahead of her now, looking back at her with a cheeky wide grin and swaying its tail happily.
She looked up.
…The sky was clear.
She had never seen a clear, blue sky.
Isn't it funny how in all her existence, in all her thousands of lives and eons of inhabiting this planet, she'd never seen a truly blue sky and felt the warmth of the suns on her face?
She looked around again. It was chilly, but there was no trace of ice to be seen.
What is this place…?
“Saint!” Enot called out before approaching. “Is Saint okay? What's she doing?”
“Just looking around.”
“Okay!! Well, Enot wants to show you the palace! Coming?”
“The palace?”
“Mhm!”
“Alright, alright, I'm coming.”
Enot held her hand and pulled her onward rather than picking her up. They slipped past what appeared to be a Karma gate – shelter hybrid, lacking the decontamination sequence but possessing the locking walls while having a flat area in the middle with a few beds of surprisingly healthy foliage. They did not stop to rest, and Enot just continued to drag her through.
They left through the other side of the room and Saint was awestruck.
Sunlight filtered through thin, soft, sparse clouds to fall warmly into a vertical pipe-tower, vaguely resembling a sewer system customary in pre-Iterator high status residential buildings and centers. There were vines and moss positively everywhere, hanging down far from the ceiling and clinging to the walls and bearing not blue pupa fruit, but similar shaped red fruits that were visibly softer and plumper. There were pools of water below them, expectedly dirty and full of algae after presumably millions of kilocycles of being stagnant. There were poles all up the tower, acting as modes of travel up, down and across it. Saint followed Enot up the poles towards the next room, and after rising past a filtration divide, caught the faintest whiff of monster kelp in the other pool of water. It must have been very long gone, as kelp usually rank horribly while alive and healthy, especially so in submerged dens. She continued climbing.
Emerging into the next room was even more breathtaking. The pink sunlight was brighter and more intense, and the foliage had swarmed the ground so intensely it was easily mistaken for pure solid dirt and loam rather than old sun-baked bricks and concrete. Climbing out onto the balcony showed a stunning view of the old palace wall extending north, with iron fencing and fleur-de-lis designs topping each post, nobly. Inwards toward the palace were even more vines, most bearing that same red fruit but a few thick and leafy enough to be very good climbing material.
She stayed close to Enot for the most part, despite not a single sign of danger yet. It just smiled at her.
“Is Saint having fun?”
She nodded.
…
It appeared the rose gold sunlight was a common theme around the palace – Saint would never complain at all. It was lovely. Foliage grew insanely and freely. The architecture showed obvious signs of disaster and continued stress, and this combined with the complete and total lack of predators – even the leeches and worm grass were nowhere to be found – heavily implied something drove out or ruined all animal life with the exception of batflies. The red fruit was delicious, very sweet, mildly juicy, a little tart, with a central pit that was easy to avoid, and soft and easily edible skin. Saint decided to name them ruby peaches.
Batflies fluttered about commonly, but not on excess. Bluefruit was pretty restricted to their main hive rooms, likely to keep their larvae safe while they pupated and grew into flies. Seed cobs were a very common sight, almost never permanently withered, and had spread indoors and up walls and there even appeared to be two types, the standard large standing ones, and much smaller ones that clung to walls. The smaller ones could be plucked off and held with minimal effort in both of ones paws, and applying pressure anywhere – say, with pushing both thumbs into the same place – could trigger the cob to open, effectively providing a large but portable food source.
The palace was undoubtedly far more untamed and unkempt than it ever was before. Saint thoroughly enjoyed the experience. There weren't any shelters within the palace itself, so Enot and Saint shared a small popcorn cob and rested for a little while in a patch of sunlight beneath a window. It got colder with the night, for sure, but never did it snow.
…
Enot woke Saint up again with gentle shoves and the silent laughs of its bright, sharp toothed grin.
“Saint! Saint, wake up! Enot found something cool it wants to show her!”
“Hm?”
Saint looked up and blinked, a little confused, but Enot wasn’t there to explain anymore. It was almost halfway up a pole on the far side of the room, headed towards what looked to be a pipe, but it was unmarked so she assumed it to be a creature den.
She got up and trotted over anyway, taking as she often did to move on four limbs rather than two, her lynx-like build far more comfortable in a quadrupedal stance.
She stood at the bottom of the pole looking up at Enot who had stopped to wait for her. It was grinning widely at her, before climbing up the rest of the way into the pipe. So it wasn’t a creature den! She quickly followed suit, shimmying effortlessly up and squeezing herself into the hole. She never really recognized how chubby she was, but that’s probably a good thing considering how cold and famine-ridden the world she was used to was.
She emerged to see Enot on top of a nearby ledge. They were both exposed to the night air, only able to see thanks to the muffled and dimmed moonlight from behind a few clouds. They continued climbing upwards on what appeared to be standing remnants of a tower that had collapsed, bare bricks and ledges with fragmented poles in the center and one side exposed to the air. They reached the top, and there was a T in the poles. Saint and Enot stood together there, like birds on a telephone wire.
Almost on cue, the clouds parted and the two got a good look at the night sky.
Saint took many, many mental notes.
There were six moons visible. Two had just been revealed by the clouds, one full and one gibbous. One was in a medium crescent just above them, two were half moons east of the first two, halves facing away from each other. One was a very slim crescent, and was noticeably larger than the rest of them. If they looked behind them, two more moons would be seen, greatly differing in size, both full.
I never knew we had eight moons.
Do we have more?
I don’t think eight–plus moons and two suns is very average for a planet.
What a strange little world this is.
Saint scooted closer to Enot on the T of the poles, and it wrapped the feathered wing around her comfortably. They stayed there for a while, admiring the moons and enjoying the moonlight, and watching the suns rise when they did.
…
…what is that?
With the suns shining warmly in tones of pink on the palace tower, something was shimmering and catching Saint’s eyes.
“Enot, look.” She pointed.
Enot turned and looked about with a curious hum, head twisting oddly like an owl. She was sliding down the pole and it was watching her curiously.
Whatever it was had been buried in moss, foliage and dirt for quite a while. She pawed at it, sweeping away the blanket of plants and dust gently.
She picked it up and studied it closely.
Holy shit. Is this –
An intact pearl. An intact colored pearl. Intact, still vivid, and – she held it tighter in her padded fingers and brought it closer to her eye – entirely blank. She sniffed it a little. Yup. Completely blank. Very oddly colored, too… cyan.
Saint heard wings flap and suddenly Enot was beside her as well. It looked on curiously and gently took it from her.
“Ooooh! You found a shiny!!” Its tail was wagging heartily.
“Mhm! It’s all blank.”
Enot looked around frantically.
“Enot wants to keep this, but there's nothing to carry it around in…”
“I’ve got an idea! Come on.”
They went back into the palace and the spot by the window where they slept. The discarded shell of the cob was still there.
“This is soft and flexible enough to act as a pouch. All we need is something to string it with, and it’s like a purse!”
“Oooohhhh!!! Enot really likes that! Hold on!”
It fluttered about the interior of the room, inspecting different vines and fruits. It selected a good sturdy one and bit it off of the walls near the bases. It also plucked two ruby peaches off of their vines.
“Here! Purse strap and breakfast for Saint!” It smiled sweetly and the tip of its white, forked tongue stuck out of its mouth.
Cute… Saint bit her tongue.
“Thanks! Now…”
Saint might have been a vegetarian by default, with such allergies towards meats, but she still possessed the sharp biting teeth customary of slugcats. With minimal slobbering two holes were poked in the ends of the peels, and the vine was threaded into the holes and knotted for security.
“And look! The shell tends to want to remain closed so you don’t need a zipper or to sew the sides closed or anything! Neat, huh?”
“Ooh! Very neat!”
Enot slipped it over its shoulder and picked up the cyan pearl from its place beside the two on the floor, and gently placed it in. The skin closed upon being released with a gentle snap, and it got a feel for opening and closing the pouch by doing it again.
“Super neat! Enot really likes this!”
“Mhm!” Saint said around her first mouthful of the fruit. She continued eating while Enot flew about chasing a batfly or two just for funsies. She was finishing the second fruit when she heard it coo its almost trademark “Oooohh!” again. After a moment, she saw it approach her. As it opened its paws, she saw a blinking flower bloom open and greet her.
She took it and looked at it. She looked back up at Enot and saw a giant grin on its face. She realized she had begun to purr when Enot’s grin grew and its tail swayed.
Enot approached and took the flower back and tucked it behind Saint’s ear. Right where the karma flower was. Even after all these cycles, that karma flower was still behind her ear. Enot’s paw came down from her ear to pet her fluffy cheek and she leaned into it and closed her eyes.
The things this creature does to me.
…
“Hey, Enot…?”
“Mhm?”
“...I love you.”
Enot blinked at her in a bit of surprise. Saint blinked back.
Then it just leaned down and forward and touched their foreheads together.
“Enot loves you too.”
Is it purring? I don't think I've ever heard it purr before.
Void, that has no right to be so cute.
…
After a long while of just sitting, Enot suddenly hopped up and clapped its hands.
“Ooh! Ooh! Enot almost forgot! The cool place it wanted to show Saint! If we hurry we can make it before dusk!”
“Oooh! Yes! Lead the way!”
They sprinted onwards, both of them loping and galloping on all four limbs, as was common of slugcats for extra speed and ease of movement.
They passed collapsed sections of the palace, flooded sewage parlors, seeing how winding trees with warm orange orbs in the middle had dominated the architecture of Saint’s parents. They saw how the sunlight of late-midday shone in stunning tones of pink and orange and made everything in moldes of melted rose gold. They saw how untamed it all was, and now they were wild and free, too.
Eventually they exited the palace altogether and found themselves in the hollowed trunk of an enormous tree.
“Does Saint mind if we take a little detour?”
“Not at all!”
They climbed up the trunk, wiggling through tight roots and out into the cradle that held the orange orb atop the tree. Enot picked Saint up like a teddy bear and flew to the top. Saint looked on in awe.
Bits of Five Pebbles’s superstructure were visible over the retaining wall that stood like a rock between them. A giant broken half of a communications mast was there. Clouds were thick but light in volume and the suns could be seen meandering downwards to the west. Three moons were visible, all either full or almost full.
Enot held her close and she closed her eyes.
Life is good.
They didn't linger long, though, as Enot was obviously eager to bring her wherever they were going. They had descended the treetop, back down into the trunk, and put along the ground. They walked slowly.
The ground was made of loam set hard atop old bricks, perhaps this was an air transport landing zone eons and eons ago. Everywhere around them were leaves and vines and glowing orbs nestled in wood. Into a little clearing they managed to work themselves, and Enot hopped over a good few puddles.
There was a massive tree.
Trillions of pink leaves curved upwards like a nest around a ginormous orb at the top of the tree. Vines of flowers and those same pink leaves fell all around the roots of the tree from the nest, like leaves of willows making curtains. The roots of the tree spidered out beneath it like great legs, holding it so firm to the ground it almost seemed completely part of it. Enot lifted up the willow curtains and she saw little winding caves within the roots, perfectly fit for a colony of animals, especially slugcats. Ruby peaches grew like wildfire from every empty gap in the curtains.
Enot's tail was slipping away from underneath the leaves and Saint sprinted forward to catch up, splashing carelessly in puddles along the way.
She slipped under the curtains into the root hollows, finding a great empty central area with tiny encloves in the walls. Enot has gotten to work piling up leaf litter and flattening it out to create a soft area in the dirt, akin to a bed or nest.
“What is this place…?”
“Old home of slugcat family! Abandoned since better grounds were further out. Isn't it beautiful?”
“It is. It really is.”
“Look! Enot made nest! And made hollow all nice and comfy. Little shelves for things!” It pointed to the shell purse that had been placed in a little enclove and sure enough, it sat there perfectly secure, just like a shelf would hold it.
The suns were setting outside. Saint sat down upright in the nest against the wall. Enot approached shyly, Saint patted her lap, and it laid down curled up with its chin on one of her knees and purring.
“Can I write on this pearl a little?”
Enot nodded.
She stretched her arm to reach the purse off the shelf without disturbing her partner too much. The cyan pearl winked at her innocently and almost shivered in her padded paws. She focused her gaze and wrote.
Then, and over the course of eternity, she wrote of her, of Enot, of their friendship and their love and the shenanigans they got up to, almost like a diary but slightly more poetic. Over the course of thousands of eons in which they had this pearl, it collected moss and mushrooms that were swept away from its surface but the imprints of which were kept in the data, enriching it with love and wilderness. At the very end of the text document kept within this pearl, Saint and Enot always kept a poem written there.
…
“Perhaps they could ignore their godhoods. Perhaps they were things made of terror and death and corruption and they were a little afraid of themselves. But all was naught but to serve life, to give nutrients and elements back to the loam in which those very elements would sprout again, themselves in different forms. Two lonely gods, out of into and out again from the frost and snow. Perhaps they could ignore their godhoods, in favor of being small.”
…
“Enot is quite happy here.”
“Saint thinks she is too.”
For the first time in forever, for the first time of many…
A little bit of the white moss on her heart melted away.