#soloadventures;anupdate

[afracturedexistence]

(Read on: Google Docs / Ellipsus)

It was not uncommon for him to step into a new world with a bit of energy in his step, practically hopping as he found his footing on new ground. This time was no different — the energy that had attracted him to this world was strong, stronger than was typical. He was viciously curious; had someone already claimed it? Or was it simply a feisty environment? It mattered not — either had his interest.

The area he had landed in was a spacious room; perhaps a cave? There were three shipping containers within it. Two were stacked on top of each other; the top one was closed on both ends, hanging slightly off the side of the one that it sat upon, leaning against a dirt wall that it had begun to merge with. One end of the bottom container was ajar, though from the angle he was at he could not see into it. A steel barrel sat just before it, a fire smouldering within it.

The third container was much more interesting. Atop it and mounted along its forward-facing side was a grand computer system. As technology advanced, things usually got smaller. This one looked advanced; why was it so large? He would not be able to wonder too much about it, the computer’s user garnering all of his attention now.

Had he been younger, it would have been like looking into a mirror, to some extent. Usually when he was in front of a computer, it was a time of calmness, perhaps even safety. It was a time that he could potentially relax, certainly when he could be less guarded and turn his attention to some sort of research. This alternate, however, did not look the same, floating in place as he turned to regard the intruder, crystalline armour sparkling in the low light. There was an immediate, noticeable distrust in those unmoving eyes, followed by a hint of curiosity.

Meeting an alternate of himself could be a delightful experience or a terrible one — rarely was there an in-between. Mephiles would play on the last thing he sensed, projecting his own. He stood upright and then rolled onto the heels of his long feet, raising and then lowering his stance, showing that he could have towered over the other and chose not to. He was not interested in fighting, yet he was not certain that his alternate’s plan was the same. This one radiated a powerful aura, so unlike what he normally came across; even those that were capable and willing to fight would usually hide or at least suppress their energy signature to some degree. It was only polite, after all.

He briefly wondered if he should let his own aura emanate more naturally.

“And what displeasure do I owe to you for this visitation?” An accusatory tone, one that was not necessarily unwarranted.

“I am only exploring,” Mephiles responded, quick but firm. If the other was interested in a fight, he would have to initiate it.

The other finally faced him entirely, interlacing his fingers before him. There was the briefest of pauses between the two as they further took in each other’s presence. He had not been met with immediate hostilities and that gave him some amount of hope. Normally, the first few seconds of a meeting between deities were the most important. They were not normal deities, however, and Mephiles was acutely aware that as much as he was analysing the other, he was being sized up, too. The mind of Solaris was far more calculating than even the average deity, and he wondered…

Normally on his travels, Mephiles made note of what worlds might be good to unleash Iblis upon and consume to fuel themselves, to give them the energy to stay safe within their own. The presence of another with his face immediately made him doubt that this world would be suitable for his taking. He wondered: did this alternate even know about the endless alternate dimensions and realities? Timelines were one thing, but…

“Exploring, are we?” He shifted slightly to the side. “And what might someone like you be looking for?”

This one knew.

Mephiles lifted his head some. “Anything useful.”

The other was still for a moment before cocking his head to the side. “Then it would seem our interests are aligned.”

Mephiles was not an idiot; this one’s tone did not match the words he spoke. He rolled onto his toes to return to a more normal stance, ever so slightly growing unnerved. “In what way?” he wanted to ask, just to push the other a little more, and then the ground below them rumbled, tiny pieces of dirt falling off the wall nearby. It was brief but he knew in his gut that it was no natural earthquake.

Before he could try to make some sort of comment on that, sly or not, the other lifted a hand, a finger pointed to the ground. Mephiles spotted the other’s form melting ever so slightly before anything more happened and he was up in the air with a single flap of the wings. Just as expected, the ground was coated by a viscous ichor that spread from the single droplet. It spread across all of the visible ground, and rather alarmingly shot up the dirt walls and coated the ceiling, too. He had never done that personally — it required so much effort.

An aggravated snarl was impossible to hold back. Once, twice he flapped his wings, gathering altitude in the room — avoiding the walls and ceiling — so that he could point himself at the other, talons outstretched. The third flap would have launched him forward, had the one he was intruding upon not ceased to hide his aura. It had been strong before; now Mephiles nearly choked on it, the shock alone almost knocking him out of the air as the realisation of the peril he was now in threatened to truly mortify him. The third flap, instead, pointed him down and away, as much as he could manage.

The rumbling below them was visibly vibrating things about the room. A constant, Mephiles was now very aware that the energy he had detected in the air had grown stronger. He now understood very well that the alternate before him had been suppressing his own, appearing to be much less than he was, and Mephiles had no interest in discovering whether or not his hunch regarding the incoming signature was correct. If he didn’t leave now, he was certainly going to lose this one-on-one battle, and he had no urge to discover if the fight’s number of participants was imbalanced against him.

Mephiles jerked awake, aware of a pressure in his head. It seemed his unconscious mind had disturbed both of them. As he recalled what had been running through his mind, it was reasonable that Iblis had become concerned. Now that he was awake, the concern shifted to curiosity and he sighed.

‘What part did you not understand?’

Iblis’ questioning aura was steadfast as Mephiles partially sat up to lean on an elbow. The wyvern had come all the way up to the Master Emerald’s altar.

‘That one was not unlike us,’ he explained, passing on a gentle, general reminder of their goal to find and consume energy as they could. ‘They, however,’ he continued, also conveying that the initial aura he had detected was that of an Iblis rather than that of a world,‘are not…’ Damaged? He didn’t say it outright, but it’s what came to mind. That got a curious tilt of the head out of Iblis, but both moved on from that topic.

‘There is not much that I know about them, he and I hardly had a conversation, but…’ Mephiles let the memory of those auras he felt come to the forefront of his mind again. ‘I would assume they are very old, and very successful. He alone could have bested us.’

Iblis did not agree. Mephiles couldn’t help an amused roll of the eyes of the other’s confidence. Normally he would agree, but this was no normal circumstance.

‘It is rare to encounter beings so powerful. It was not even a question.’

Nothing could have changed Iblis’ mind. It was endearing in a way, but he supposed that was why they were the way that they were. A limited mind didn’t stop Iblis from wondering what happened after.

Mephiles did not act on fear alone, however. A crazed beast of shadows rose from the corner of the ichor he was closest to, just as it would have had it been of his own creation. Rolling forward in the air, he struck it with his tail and dispatched it easily. He was vaguely aware of curiosity from the other in response to that action.

A fourth flap and Mephiles reached out, striking the air with his claws. Normally, he would create an orb or a flat-plane portal to travel — this time he tore at the fabric of time, disrupting it and pulling it around himself like a blanket. Only then did he alter the flow of energy into this action, moving himself to a new place as well. He did this two more times before he stopped even for a moment, taking in the last half minute, and then he continued to jump from one world to another until he felt like he might have made the other lose his trail, or at least gained one hell of a lead. It turned out the latter had been all he had managed.

Of course Iblis was curious about what happened in their next encounters.

‘Nothing good,’ Mephiles impressed heavily upon him. ‘That one has been a thorn in my side for some time now.’

He took a deep breath and slowly let it out. More comfortable now, he then reiterated the notion to Iblis that this alternate was not one to be trifled with. The Mephiles alone was a more than capable being; he was loathe to glimpse the Iblis of the pair. And before his brother could even wonder —

‘I do not know why they remain separate.’ A pause. ‘Nor do I have any intention of ever asking.’

Lying flat on the Master Emerald from chin to toe, he sighed. It had been a nightmare that roused him this time, but despite that, Mephiles noted that he was finally feeling better after all that excitement with the chao-eater and false gods. He no longer needed to consciously breathe, and so, too, had his heart begun to beat again.

No, he was feeling much better despite the darkness clouding his mind.

[afracturedexistence]

(GD copy)

Jerking, Mephiles lifted his head to look in the direction of the noise that had woken him from a dead sleep. The horrific screeching continued as Iblis carried a mass of metal and wires to where he deemed to be a good place to sit beside the Master Emerald altar and begin chewing on his meal. It seemed his disturbing of Mephiles disturbed him as they both paused to physically look at one another in deep curiosity.

What…

The question emanated from him before he had tried to put it into words, both too groggy and jittery to do so in a timely manner. Iblis simply shot back a memory of sensing a disturbance far below Angel Island and then the decision to investigate it due to boredom. With the question answered, he returned his full attention back to what Mephiles now recognised as one of Doctor Robotnik’s more impressive creations. Such a thing would make a suitable meal for his brother as long as the fuel wasn’t accidentally detonated, but somehow he got the feeling that the wyrm already knew better.

Mephiles came away from the exchange with far more questions. This was not the first time that Iblis had done something like this.

Sitting up was beginning to make his back hurt, a gentle throbbing quickly threatening to grow into a searing hot pain shooting up and down his back. He could continue to prod his brother to try and sate his curiosity, or he could lay back down and keep resting.

He took another moment to take in the sight and sounds of a boss machine being consumed before lying back down on the Master Emerald.

[afracturedexistence]

Here's a little thing to clean up some loose plot-lines from a couple years ago to appease my sanity.

(GD copy)

He had sat in a chair weaved together with parts of a plant that he didn’t fully recognize at the time, only knew that it grew in this wild world, and he drank their coffee for the duration of that visit. Alternating between being in his lap or beside him had sat the tiny black and purple lightning wyvern Sesen, the focus of the visit.

Bastet had been unable to offer any words of advice. As he knew so very well, the braver inhabitants of the city of Rasti had made a small habit of stealing wyvern eggs from the World Scar, though no one had succeeded in hatching one. They had, however, gotten very good at cracking and cooking them. There had been legends of wyvern riders and tamers from a time before, but never could anyone prove that they were more than stories.

As a result, the visit had been something of a waste of time. Bastet and her family wished him well and offered some amount of aid should he need it, but it seemed Mephiles was alone in this endeavor.

The little wyvern had, at least, taken great delight in being thrown into the air and allowed to glide most of the way back to his lair.

That had been quite some time ago. Sesen grew quickly, doubling in size within that week. Her appetite – as he was certain she was a she – had grown as well and providing enough wyvern-rearing-substance had proved difficult, though not impossible. By the time that it became frustrating, so many weeks had been spent growing the wyvern that he wasn’t willing to back out of his decision.

Iblis didn’t care either way and went about his business of doing a whole lot of nothing other than occasionally bringing a kill back to the lair. It was one of those days, one when Sesen was had just become too large to sit in her alcove anymore, that she approached the great wyrm and snatched a mouthful of raw meat from him. Both of them had been so stupefied they did nothing about it besides make note to start offering her meat again. The rowdy hatchling had matured quite a lot, it seemed.

Hardly any time passed from then to when the wyvern preferred and soon after ate nothing but meat. When her head was as long as he was tall, she refused it entirely unless he insisted.

For how long she had been a defenseless juvenile, it wasn’t until the day she used her breath weapon that he looked to her as a fully-grown wyvern. The intruding thorny dragon had been quite thoroughly burnt and subsequently killed by the blast of bio-electricity.

Such a weapon made Mephiles cautious. For how great and mighty he might have been, electricity was a significant weakness to the forms he preferred. For an animal, an intelligent one, to be able to easily wield such a weapon… it was a profound feeling. He was glad she listened to him with unyielding loyalty.

There was very little in way of commands that he had to teach her, for the wyvern seemed to understand spoken language in full. The biggest difficulty he faced was making her understand to go nowhere near the World Scar, for she very often now took to the sky on her own volition, hunting and exploring.

One time he became curious of where she would go and Mephiles found himself clambering onto her back. There was a space at her shoulders where no fin grew, an almost perfectly sized space between fins to fit a rider who could hold on, and to his surprise, she didn’t mind his presence. In fact, she seemed to revel in it. He was hardly surprised when she attacked a tyrannosaur, no doubt thanks to her bolstered confidence. Three blasts of her breath weakened the animal enough for her to jump at it, grabbing its head between her rows of long teeth and snapping its neck. After waiting for her to eat what she wanted, Mephiles alerted his other half to the location of the corpse for clean-up.

When Sesen took to the air once again, it occurred to him that he might be able to direct where she went. To his surprise, she followed these orders to a T.

He thoughts turned to Balister and his tame beast, of how they also worked in tandem with ease. This was something that he had thought to be a result of years of training, but now he wondered… This world was strange, but surely all of its inhabitants could not possibly be so clever. Perhaps it was only the large ones and the advanced races, he wagered.

Another trip to Rasti was required, he decided. What he couldn’t decide quite yet was whether or not it was a good idea to bring Sesen with him…

For now, he would instruct the not-so-little-anymore wyvern to stick around the mountains surrounding his lair while he figured things out.

[afracturedexistence]

(GD copy)

Many places he had traveled before had an assortment of resources scattered about them. This land… not so much. Yet it made up for that drawback by having an absurd amount of what it did have. It seemed that everywhere he turned he could find one of the ‘rare’ resources, crystals or metal or obsidian rock. Atop mountains and deep within caves these items were especially plentiful.

For a while, Mephiles had busied himself with collecting these items. Some of them he could refine into something more usable; some of them were completely viable the moment they were collected. All of these had been easily tradable to those within the nearby city, traders who passed nearby. Metal was something that he had not been able to use and traders were far less willing to accept until it had been converted into ingots with the impurities removed. It wasn’t of quality that he would consider useful for making anything, either, yet he also had no way of refining it until now.

Not even considering all the metal work he could do now, he really had missed having a forge to work. It had been a long time since he last used one, much too long. There was work to be had now, jewelry and armor and tools and weapons he could make to trade for things he would find more useful.

Iblis questioned if jewelry would be more useful to them. It a way, it would; they could keep the finest gems to themselves and use those to save extra energy in. With what had happened recently, a little extra insurance on the side was a good idea and this was just the place to collect it. Of course, the gems didn’t have to be made into jewelry, but there was no harm in that and it gave him something to do. Mephiles didn’t mind occasionally wearing something pretty and the idea seemed to be growing on his brother the more they discussed it. Neither could deny that the idea of a massive dragon covered in decorative chains and gems was amusing, if for different reasons for the both of them.

It had been a very long time since he had been able to work material into something useful, metal or not, and he looked forward to doing it once again. Turning it into trade was a bonus.

As the dark busied himself with organizing everything around the forge in the cave it was set in when a thought from the other distracted him, a sort of whining. Usually, Iblis was more than capable of caring for himself, but this thought sounded… distressed, confused. The other did not even try to convey with thought or words what was troubling him, only sent Mephiles an image of an angry fat bird that refused to yield to his teeth.

It was that time of year again.

[afracturedexistence]

Uh. This is really long and actually pretty late. But it’s done and I don’t hate it!

(GD copy)

Home. Or at least, as close to home as they could be, the heat and dry air a welcome reprieve from the wintery mix they’d suffered while Mephiles recovered from their run-in with a pair of alternates. As good as they looked, there were still more injuries to heal that couldn’t be seen, rest required to recover fully. Home, true home, would have to wait a while longer, but for now, this arid land would more than suffice.

Stood at what made up the entrance of this little roofless home, the dark watched as his much more imposing brother flew beyond it, eager to explore. Perhaps the seemingly endless wildlife would sate his appetite; if not, at least the energy would aid the pair in their recovery. He only implored that Iblis not disturb any settlements or sentient beings.

Though they looked fit, they were anything but; Mephiles was hungry, he realized, something he rarely felt. As he scanned the area before him, not having been back ‘home’ since leaving before a thunderstorm, it seemed others had helped themselves to his belongings. The fire pit’s contents had long cooled and been strewn about, the spit and other furniture knocked over; some netting he had planned on making a hammock out of ended up in the pond somehow.

This was quite a mess. His primary concern was the preserving bin, a primitive but effective appliance; that had been knocked over onto its side, its contents now in question. Devouring just about everything that had been in it sounded like a good idea, and he absolutely could, but if it had gone off… he’d really prefer rocks and whatever Iblis decided to bring back to him when the wyrm returned for the night rather than spoiled meat and stews.

Still, he would at least check to see if there was anything reasonable to eat. Being away, there were some foreign scents he picked up, though nothing appalling. As he stepped before the bin, the owner of one scent made itself known and Mephiles recoiled sharply, wings putting distance between him and a tiny wyvern that had been hiding behind the mess it had created. It did not move quickly but insisted on climbing over anything in its path and closing the distance the dark had put between them. He squawked and ambled back, stumbling against the cooking area and stepping on the few pieces of eggshells beside the cold fire.

Concern had passed from Iblis to his brother, then amusement when he was allowed to see the sight before the dark. The tiny intruder was no danger at all and the unexpected nature of its presence was the only reason for Mephiles’ reaction. Its coloring had been another, if lesser reason. Juvenile wyverns could not use their breaths, adolescents sometimes if they were old enough…

This was a hatchling, barely bigger than a housecat. The dark’s reaction had been completely unwarranted, over the top and not unlike an elephant screeching at a mouse underfoot. Now that he could look at it, he recognized it as the lightning breed. On that principle alone he considered killing it; the inhabitants of this world had never found a use for wyverns, and this subspecies in particular had been especially dangerous to them. Yet on the other hand, in a world full of people who survived based on learning to bend the wildlife to their whims, this one seemed to perceive him as a curiosity, not a threat or prey. It still came closer and closer to him, curious and clearly perceiving him as neither prey nor threat. The egg that he had seen as nothing more than a potential treat had hatched somehow, the chick apparently imprinting on him. By pure accident, he’d done something others here could only dream of doing; the curiosity of seeing where this could go was far greater than any fear of the thing turning on him, something only one creature was known to ever do and only in very specific instances, a creature that he had never seen and only heard of.

With a sigh, Mephiles relaxed, running his fingers through his quills; so much for coming home and relaxing. He stepped past the thing, ignoring the little grumbling noise it made, and finally examined the mess properly. A good portion of food had indeed gone bad, soups spilling and contaminating others. The bits of cooked meat at the back were still okay though thanks to a mixture of salt and sparkpowder and he pulled that out, deciding it was a start.

Turning around, he was only halfway surprised to find the wyvern had followed him, staring up with its bright eyes. He chewed on a piece of fish with one hand, offered it a piece of much less lean meat with the other and then stared at the damned thing when it only sniffed and refused to eat it. They were carnivores, predators, he knew this, had watched them exhibit such behaviors over and over… surely a creature with the ability to cook its own prey would not turn up meat purely because it was already cooked. Yet, that seemed to be the case as it turned down the fish as well.

Having to hunt something wasn’t that big of a problem, Mephiles decided. There wasn’t much decent food here and he wanted to gorge himself; getting it himself meant that his brother didn’t have to bring him something, and frankly Iblis may have made more of a mess. There was no telling how the little wyvern may have perceived the other, either, though Mephiles did get the feeling it might have been quite amusing.

Cautiously, he stepped away from the little thing, scowled slightly when it followed him, always staying close. Again he did it, then brought his hands up, earning a curious look from it. “Stay.” It tilted its head at him, but did not come any closer. Mephiles put a few more steps between them and it did not attempt to change that. “Stay,” he reiterated, watching it sit down. That was a little… specific. “Stay… here.” He made a motion with a hand and it glanced around, deciding the kitchen area was interesting. That would do.

Scaling a wall, the dark paused at the top of it, glancing back to watch the hatchling wyvern for a few minutes. Without any training, it did as told, straying no further than the nearest side of the pond. How curious… He made a mental note of this behavior, recalling how traders had told him of how wild animals would readily obey commands moments after being captured. Then he set off.

He did not plan on practicing much moderation; he would eat a lot and surely the wyvern would too; it did not look emaciated, but there was no telling when it had hatched. Adults were massive and he was convinced it would grow quickly so he would look for something large enough to feed the both of them comfortably without being too difficult to bring back. What the locals called a thorny dragon would do be perfect, and its hide would likely make for good bedding for the little beast.

Finding one was no trouble. Finding a thorny dragon on its own was a little more so, the animals fond of hanging out in small groups and keen on flinging venomous quills at anything they didn’t like or wanted to eat. Picking all those spines out would be tedious and this was not the time to discover whether or not he could get a buzz from the toxins.

A group of three was spotted around a water vein. The dark landed nearby, glad to watch as they fussed over the sparse remains of a much smaller creature. The two bigger ones fought particularly hard, tugging the carcass back and forth while the smaller one pulled a bone from it and chewed happily on that. One of the big ones finally wrenched the food from the rest of its pack and took off running, the other adult taking off after it, their smaller companion blissfully unaware of everything happening around it.

Just as Mephiles was about to launch forward towards the distracted beast, he became aware of a noise, a soft beating that grew louder. It took a moment to realize that yes, one of the giant eagles on the mountainside had indeed thought him a possible meal and lazily made its way over to attempt to grab him in its talons. He jerked back, avoiding that and merely receiving some scratches to a shoulder and an angry screech. How ballsy of the damned thing.

Watching as the great bird circled around, the dark stayed still until it was close, then swung around and took its head off in one clean motion with his tail. Beak and skull bounced down the mountain while the body slowly rolled before getting stuck on a tree; both pieces got the attention of Mephiles’ original quarry. He didn’t care that it ate the small bit but lurched forward, intending to meet it before it came upon the main body. The thorny dragon didn’t even recognize him as a threat of any kind until he jumped on its head, making it scream. A hand wrapped under its neck to tear at the soft underside before it could make sense of the situation and it was all over with.

A two for one deal on this trip was not bad. Flying back would be slower than he had anticipated, but doable. And if the little wyvern did not like sleeping on scales, he had a lovely alternative.

So he made his way back with both catches, quite an odd sight for anyone who might have been passing underneath. The hatchling was still there, perched on the long cold bonfire until he landed, then it too found the ground once more and dashed over to greet him. He had to step over it, then around it, then over it once and twice more until he was finally able to set everything down in a way so that he could open the carcasses up and pull the skins from them. He ignored it to do that, until the little gremlin got fed up and climbed up one of his legs and he nearly screamed.

Momentarily, Iblis was terrified something had happened. Then there was realization, then hilarity. Mephiles did not think a dozen tiny claws digging into his thigh was very funny.

Still… it was an idea. Off of the ground, the hatchling would be safer and it would be out of his way. The location it had chosen to latch onto had simply been… undesirable. He carefully slipped an arm between its belly and his leg, lifted it up to his uninjured shoulder and scooted it more towards his back where it would not accidentally hurt him or vice versa. It was still very wobbly, either very young or having not eaten or both, he could not tell, but it could at least hold on and seemed to find its new perch delightful.

Skinning a bird like any other creature was a little difficult to do without a mess; he managed, though nothing could be done about the neck region. The giant lizard was much less hassle. There was slight concern at the wyvern’s disinterest in the meat that he handled, but he supposed it could simply be because it had not eaten before and did not recognize it or was even just preoccupied with observing everything from its new vantage point. Chunks were pulled from the legs of both creatures he harvested and then presented to the animal. He tried the lizard, then the bird, and again it only sniffed the raw meat, a little more curiously this time, and then refused it, much to Mephiles’ dismay.

At this point, he was at a loss. He had seen the adults chase after other animals and then eat them. Did younglings need to be force fed or something? Even the slowest of animals usually showed some interest in food if they otherwise seemed healthy.

Mephiles’ frustrating had steadily been growing to the point that his brother’s silent observation was broken. The dark was slightly surprised to be reminded of the scene he had witnessed of a younger wyvern tearing into the neck of the gigantic one he and Harmony had downed, how surprisingly intentional its movements had been. That wyvern’s body cavity had exploded; there were far easier places to begin eating it from than the neck. Iblis could only see what his brother had, but the liquid that spilled from the corpse did not appear to be blood, nor mucus. Neither of them could identify it.

Sighing, it was hard to deny that the other was onto something. Mephiles stared at the little wyvern for a long moment, wondering again if it was worth this hassle and finding that he could not overcome his curiosity. No one in these lands had ever tamed these creatures, nor successfully stolen and hatched the eggs to raise the young. Was such an undertaking even possible?

The skins of his kills were finally separated from the meat, organs haphazardly cut out, a job done somewhat messily due to his haste. Everything but the skins were tossed on the logs of the bonfire, he would set it before he left, and he stepped over to the wall that a giant sandworm had come through some time ago. It had been repaired, but it was not the best job and could easily be torn back out. This gave him an idea that he decided to act upon.

With an awkward shrugging motion, the wyvern finally understood that he wanted it to get off his back and did so with negative amounts of grace. It was a very good thing that it was so tiny still so that a fall did it no harm. Mephiles wondered how long that would last if this hunch was correct.

After setting the skins down as well, the dark scaled the wall and began tearing at the rock. It came down as easily as he expected to – he did of course glance down to make sure the hatchling had moved so it was not crushed – and he made swift progress. The entire tunnel was not reopened, only the mouth of it, and the bottom he smoothed as flat as he could. The skins would be doubly beneficial.

Satisfied with his work, Mephiles hopped back to the ground. Getting the wyvern to climb onto his back was easier this time, he slipped his tail alongside of it and chirped; it got the idea very quickly and seemed quite eager to be back at its perch. Then he used the hands of his wings to pick up the skins and once again climbed the wall, taking care to place them down separately, outside up. He would worry about properly tanning the hides later when he had some materials. For now, the wyvern was again wiggled off his back and placed before the makeshift beds, even given another small push to encourage it forward. Mephiles was not surprised when he had to tell it to stay put again the moment it appeared he would be leaving it.

The real work was crafting material to drain whatever this liquid he needed from an adult wyvern. Simply killing all that he came across would quickly prove wasteful with all that meat strewn about, not to mention any other myriad of issues that may occur. It did not help that wyverns seemed to prefer to rear their young in pairs, and that neighboring individuals would aid their species as needed. He wasn’t even sure if he needed to choose a male or female target or if it mattered, or if only the gigantic ones that had set themselves on fire were valid targets.

There were far too many questions surrounding the matter to not investigate further.

He glanced about and quickly found the tooth he had broken and discarded some time ago. It was more than large enough that he could hollow it out by hand and he had just killed a few animals whose organs he could use to fashion a bladder to hold this liquid with. Would calling it milk be appropriate? All of the animals he knew of that produced such a thing were warm bodied and furry; these creatures were not. Yet, he could not ignore the brief image that Iblis granted him of a wild wyvern in the scar vomiting up a fluid for a hatchling it had in a roost before his brother leapt on them.

So the tooth was hollowed out and in the small pile of junk he’d accumulated he found a proper water skin he could attach it to, something he had traded some hide for with some passersby quite some time ago. It had only taken a few minutes to manage this, hardly allowed any of the meat to cook so he would let it sit there still, and only required some string to make sure the tooth was properly secured. It would suffice for now.

With this bit of work done, Mephiles could take a moment to stop and listen to the sounds coming from the abode he’d carved out for the hatchling. The constant little yips and growls were somewhat concerning, but he knew there was nothing else up there, so the sight of it wrestling with the eagle’s skin was actually very amusing. For its size, it had pulled the skin an impressive distance closer to the edge, and of course it immediately stopped the moment it saw him. He simply gave it a pat on the head and pulled both skins closer to the edge for it, reiterated, “Stay here,” to it, and continued climbing up the wall. He waited a few minutes just to make sure it had listened before taking off into the air.

The World Scar, as it was called, was close enough that it could be easily reached a short period of time. Finding a suitable test target, however, was a different story. All that he could be reasonably certain of was that whatever he needed to poke at was somewhere in the neck. He guessed that it was likely some sort of organ similar to that of the crop many birds had. He did not relish the idea of the animals literally vomiting half-digested food up for their young and if that were the case, what were his alternatives? Keeping the hatchling alive to experiment and find one seemed cruel, yet doing so could reveal a way to raise tamed wyverns and prove a boon for the inhabitants of this world, and time consuming, particularly if he failed to find any success and could not keep it alive.

Finding the middle land bridge above the pit, the dark landed on a half fallen tree, considering his options as he watched the wyverns below. None of the options he had seemed particularly good, all questionable in ethics and logic even to his personal standards. The thought did occur to him to find the village by the red obelisk, see what Bastet might think of the situation as she and her offspring had stolen the eggs in the first place; surely this had been their plan. Yet he did not like the idea of socializing any more than he needed to at the moment, not after everything he had been through. Iblis’ company could have so easily made a trip like that worse, too, and finding that place would have meant leaving the wyvern alone all that much longer. He could have split himself into two entities, or even three, and multitask to the extreme, but he loathed the idea of doing so when he and his brother were apart and both active and immediately decided that was not going to happen; he was not even sure he wanted to let others know of the wyvern’s existence. Mephiles would simply have to make do with the situation as he had been so far.

He really did hope that all three variations of wyverns were similar enough that he didn’t have to wrangle an adult lightning. The green ones spat balls of acid and the red ones tended to set everything on fire, even themselves apparently if you pissed them off enough, but bioelectricity… even his other half did not like it and all they could do was tickle Iblis’ scales. Mephiles would likely find himself dazed and plummeting into the lava stream below if he was hit by one.  

An adult fire wyvern passed under the bridge below him and it seemed he had finally caught a break. It grappled the rock, climbed into an alcove with a juvenile that had been hidden in the back of the alcove and fed it; Mephiles had finally caught a break.

Taking a deep breath in, the dark hopped to the ground and picked up a rock. He stepped around to one side of the opening in the earth, calculated the angle and then hurled it at the beast. The stone wouldn’t hurt it, wouldn’t cause any injury but it would hopefully not be ignorable; yet it turned, screamed in rage at him and Mephiles had not even drawn blood with it. The perceived threat to its infant must have played a part, he supposed.

The wyvern shot itself up the rock wall, snarling its intentions the entire quick climb up. He was glad he predicted correctly that it would not fly this short distance and that it was so desperate to tear him apart; darting past those jaws and jumping onto the back of its neck was ridiculously easy, holding on with his feet and tail; a fire wyvern even had the horns for him to grab onto and utilize to twist its head around to better control it in his new position. The angry animal was so many times his size and yet Mephiles had contorted its head into such an uncomfortable position that it only clung to the sand, gasping and growling in shock as it viewed the world from an upside down position. He wrapped an arm around the crown of horns to make doubly sure that he had a good hold on the creature before he used his free hand to jab the makeshift syringe into the side of its neck.

For a few seconds, he held his breath. The tooth and water skin worked well to move liquid, so very well that it could have been blood. It was not until the dark breathed again and took in the new scent that he confirmed it was not blood but something else that moved, hopefully something the hatchling would accept as food. Relief passed through his body and he relaxed ever so slightly. Hopefully this was the solution he needed, and with a source of food almost figured out with for the little wyvern he could begin the process of unraveling all the questions he had.

He took another breath in a savored it, letting fatigue loll his head so that he could properly watch Balister’s approach of the scene. The dark had been aware of the other and his mount nearby – and of course the little rat thing, wherever it had hidden itself this time – and was not surprised at all that the man chose to investigate such an odd sight. Capturing the wyvern had been a more pressing matter than saying hello. The dark was only slightly concerned about a lone person and their dinosaur, even less so by having already met them before, especially on good terms.

The sight before him must have been crazy, Mephiles realized. Being sat on the neck of a massive wyvern and to be physically restraining it when he was much smaller than it, to look the way he did at all… this must have looked very strange in the eyes of another no matter how he spun it. He stayed still so that the wyvern stayed sedated, watched as Balister dismounted his rex and closed the final distance between them. Yes, this must have looked very strange.

“Good afternoon.” It was hard to keep a straight face, especially seeing how Balister recoiled at his words. This was a weird situation, but what else was he supposed to say? Not greeting the other would have been rude.

But Balister swallowed his tongue, held his breath, and responded with a fairly polite, “Good afternoon.” He looked the scene over again and shook his head, gesturing to it with both hands. The overall look on his face and his body language was undeniably, What the fuck?

“I’m out getting lunch,” the dark said with a smile. It did occur to him that with the height and angle, the man couldn’t quite see what exactly he was doing with a makeshift needle in the beast’s neck. Even if he could, did he understand? As far as Mephiles knew, he did not have any place that would be denoted as a home; Balister was a true vagabond in this world. If he had hatched the wyvern egg he had been given, surely the hatchling would be with him. The lack of one and the questions made the dark doubt that they had taken the same route. Shrugging, Mephiles added, “I didn’t have breakfast.”  

Balister stared at him, stared with a look that said he understood but also recognized how ridiculous this was at the same time. He decided to play along. “There are smaller creatures you could hunt. Smaller things that are easy enough to bleed.” So he did see the makeshift needle; the understanding was not quite there, however.

“Yeah, I know. I needed this, though.” The dark motioned with a shrug at the wyvern before he removed the tooth from its neck and replaced it on the other side, a fresh flow of liquid coming forth. Balister’s expression became slightly more exasperated and the poor wyvern had only flinched and hissed.

“Say…” It was something of a risk to bring it up at all, but the man was only one person and two mounts – surely the giant eagle was somewhere nearby – and he did not know where Mephiles’ own lair was. The dark did not think he risked too much by asking. “What did you do with the egg those women we met a while back gave you?”

The question seemed to surprise him and he seemed to consider it and the scene before him greatly; it was not an idle question yet Balister could not directly connect everything. He crossed his arms and regarded the dark with slight suspicion. “I couldn’t crack the damn thing so I gave it to Riak and Arcadia to share.” The first name must have referred to the tyrannosaur as it looked to its master for a moment before going back to scouring the horizon for anything more concerning than oversized bugs; the second likely referred to the bird that was absent.

“Same here.” Mephiles took some comfort in knowing that the eggs were just that difficult to crack. He opened his mouth, moved so that he could point to the regrown tooth that he had lost in an attempt to open the egg. Before he could speak, the wyvern jerked its head and he nearly screamed, the motion having snapped the bones in his forearm. It had not freed itself and it didn’t fight any further, but it had done some damage.

“You okay?” Balister blurted out, not sure whether to move forward and help or not. He’d heard that snap, but the dark’s lack of a reaction was throwing him off. Mephiles still didn’t respond to him and instead withdrew the equipment from the wyvern’s neck. Time to get going.

Just as he looked to the other to declare his intentions, Iblis made the announcement for everyone. The great wyrm reaching out from within the pit, the wyvern screamed as one of its legs was grabbed in the other’s teeth and it was dragged backwards; Mephiles swiftly released the animal and joined Balister in running the hell away. To an outsider, this looked like an incident of cannibalism and he was content to allow that façade even if he could not help laughing some. Riak had turned and begun running before her master, not a full sprint, but it took an effort to catch up to the animal, to keep his hat and rat on, and climb into the saddle. The dark made a hopping motion and spread his wings, matching the other’s new height in the air.

Saluting awkwardly, he called out, “We’ll catch up another time!” Balister could only manage halfway manage out a response, cursing the screaming creatures behind them as each party took a different path. Once again he went out into the desert and Mephiles was left to wonder how he managed to survive in such a hostile area as he gained altitude and angled himself back to his own alcove, taking a moment to impress upon his brother to leave the man and his animals alone unless they picked a fight first.

With the last bit of adrenaline wearing off now, his arm hurt; wrestling with an adult wyvern every time he needed to do this was not going to work, assuming this liquid was even something that the hatchling would recognize as food. Landing on the rock outcropping above his roost, his doubt unerring, Mephiles wondered again if all this effort was worth it, felt his brother wondering the same but not questioning his choice. He’d only sigh after another moment and then scan for the hatchling, confirming that it had not moved from its makeshift bed just as it was told.

Gliding down, he landed in the kitchen area, barked at the wyvern and then considered how to feed it. Such an animal would have no problem eating solid pieces of meat like its adult counterparts would, but liquid… Mephiles looked to the hatchling as it scuttled over to him with the same delightedness it had every time before. The water skin was not the best vessel, it leaked slightly, a drop every so often… He held the skin comfortably and found what was then the lowest point of it, turned it upside down and then carefully pulled the loose bits where it leaked apart just a little more. It would leak quite steadily now.

The wyvern titled its head from one side to the other and gave him a curious chirp when he finally looked to it. This was the moment of truth as he let the skin hang and lowered it to the hatchling’s level. The grumbling noise it gave him was frustrating and then it bit at the skin with such ferocity he almost fell backwards off his feet in surprise.

For a very long moment, Mephiles just stared at the sight of the saurian half chewing half sucking on the bag of… milk? He couldn’t think of anything better than that to refer to this substance as. At least it hadn’t torn it apart and spilled it everywhere.

Carefully, the dark maneuvered so that he could pull one of the carcasses from earlier off the fire. At some point he would need to tear them up so that they could be stored for later, but the very cooked carcasses may not even last that long; with a significant new injury, Mephiles may very well spend quite a long time just eating. Whether he ran out of things to eat first or got bored was anyone’s guess.

But for now he would sit awkwardly, broken arm laid across his lap, and eat in the company of an annoyingly picky little lizard. His curiosity had been satisfied: the wyverns of this world produced a very specific food supply for their young not unlike mammals did, making the care of hatchlings obnoxious. Whether or not it was worth it… well, it didn’t really matter.

For a long while he sat there and picked at some meat while the wyvern drank. Once again he offered it a piece, though this time he was far less discouraged and disappointed when it refused it and only ate it himself. Iblis, on the other hand, had apparently been watching it with a different eye and the two of them were quite surprised when the wyrm nearly dropped the front half of an adult wyvern on them. The hatchling squawked its shock and displeasure as it scurried onto his back, Mephiles only flinched a little at that, tired and knowing that his brother wouldn’t harm him. Why he would deliver this, though…

With a defeated sigh, the dark got to his feet and stepped over to the new carcass. Really, there were too many of those in this alcove now and this one was too big and much too bloody, some of its innards still attached and hanging about. He looked it over a few times before Iblis impressed upon him that he inspect both the neck of it and the water skin; the little gremlin had drank all of it already. Mephiles just halfheartedly threw the deflated skin over the hatchling’s head – it made a lot of very amusing squeaks because of that and ran off after it – and worried about the carcass.

The body was fairly well intact until the chest where it was so badly mangled; Mephiles could easily visualize his brother grabbing the wyvern in life and literally ripping it apart. He’d gain no answers by merely looking at it so he grabbed the torn skin, made a cut in the center of the chest, and tore it down on both sides with his wings’ hands. With further inspection of the muscle, he still saw nothing of any interest; now he began cutting through it, going down the center of the chest up towards the neck and head as he had with the skin. It was only when he reached the throat and began pulling flesh away that he found something fascinating; large tubes on either side of the trachea that resembled it in color and texture, organs of some sort he realized.

Upon this discovery, Mephiles had made a small ‘huh’ noise and paused to stare at it. The little wyvern had recovered from having its meal thrown on its head and come to his side, chewing on the now totally empty water skin. He pushed it back so that he didn’t step on it as he worked on removing the organs from the neck so he could better inspect them, mindful of the expectant look it gave him after doing so.

Unlike the trachea, these things were full of something. If he had to guess based on the day’s earlier events, witnessing a wyvern tear at a dead one’s neck some time ago, the dark would guess it was full of chick rearing liquid: milk. Really, there was no better word for it. The way the hatchling had snapped its jaws onto the bag full of it, the way it was watching him now as he handled the tube-like structures, that had to be it. He sniffed it, then leaned down and sniffed the hatchling’s face; the same smell.

To his surprise, the next movement he made broke one of the tubes apart. The contents did not spill; instead, he found that it was sectioned off, as though the organ was made up of multiple oblong shaped bladders with a skin keeping it all together until enough force broke them up. It was a little messy, but for the most part, it was naturally occurring pre-packaged milk. In fact, the bladder was probably very edible. He looked from the piece he held to the hatchling and then offered it the capsule, unsurprised when it happily took it from him and chewed on it with only a little more vigor than it had with the water skin earlier. Most of the organ could be broken into these pieces except for the ends and the part closest to the head; that wasn’t even a bladder like the rest of it. Instead, it must have existed purely for creating the liquid and moving it in or out of storage, which most of the organ appeared to be for. With how ravenous his one hatchling was, Mephiles was not surprised by how much of the body he’d found to be dedicated to making this milk, and this was just what he could visually observe.

This had been a pleasant surprise, finding his guesses to be correct that the wyverns here were similar to birds in that they had organs in their neck to aid in feeding their young and having more food for the hatchling. He passed this along to Iblis and was responded to with a general feeling of gratitude but did not press the matter; the wyrm had discovered the giant sand worms and was currently working out the most efficient way to kill them.

With nothing else to do, he pulled the wyvern remains towards and onto the fire, glad to be done. The dark would have nothing more to do for some time, perhaps not until tomorrow he figured, when it would eventually need more food. It seemed very unlikely to him that the hatchling would be able to eat all of the milk bladders from this adult in that span of time, though then again, he still could not be certain of when exactly it had hatched; it was not overly scrawny looking, but it seemed endlessly hungry, even for a baby. It ate the entire bladder he gave it and looked at him as if to ask for more; Mephiles just motioned at the organs he pulled from the adult’s neck. When it didn’t help itself and sat down, he wondered if maybe it was full, but it still looked at him, so he handed it another bladder, which it also tore into. Odd.

This cycle continued for a while, Mephiles handing more ‘pieces’ of milk to the little wyvern and it accepting them. It ate half of what was left before it regarded one for a moment and seemed to force itself to eat it, refusing the next one. With that done, the dark could finally plop himself down in earnest, let his broken arm heal, soak in the heat of the fire, pick at the meat nearby, and relax. He was only moderately surprised when the hatchling came up beside him and decided that his open wing was the most comfortable place to bed down. It seemed neither of them would move for the rest of the day.

Despite the interest he had taken in the giant worms in the sands beyond the mountains, Iblis posed a valid question, if not in words. If they were not going to kill the wyvern, if they were even going to put forth effort into raising it, why not name it? For beings that did not care for the concept of names, Mephiles hadn’t thought of it and he was surprised his brother had, though on further thought decided it wasn’t so strange.

The subjects that belonged to the tribe under the red obelisk had names that were familiar to him, just enough for him to recognize. Perhaps there were others in this land that took names from that place and time as well, perhaps not, but it stuck with him and after a few minutes of considering what he knew of it, he’d decided.

‘Sesen.’ He passed along the society’s potential interpretations for the meaning of the word, what the flower it represented could look like. Words weren’t Iblis’ strong suit and so quite quickly the dark received a simple response of acknowledgement, that it being his decision was plenty enough for the wyrm.

With that matter settled and more than enough food for everyone collected, Mephiles could finally rest. He had not ran into anything in this land that was a real threat and did not need to worry terribly over what his brother did so long as their long ago discussed rules were kept to, and Iblis was very good at listening.

Finally he could rest.

[afracturedexistence]

(GD copy)

Mephiles definitely did not expect to have his attention diverted from the fish he was waiting to grab. The quiet ringing in his ear could not be ignored and he reluctantly pulled away from the water, startling his prey away. He would eat another time.

Investigating the alert – a very loud one that it was – would not be feasible in his current state. Even peering through the streams of space and time was not an easy task right now. Rousing his brother to employ his abilities and energy was a far more reasonable task so he threw himself against the wyrm’s face. Mephiles’ insistence that the task would only take a few minutes was helpful in this regard.

Climbing atop the wyrm’s head, he found a few spikes to latch onto with his feet and got comfortable, knowing he would inevitably be thrown off when Iblis’ patience wore out. It took a little more coaxing – and time that the flametongue would’ve preferred to spend sleeping – to get him to open his third eye, a necessity for the task.

Yet with this managed, Mephiles wasn’t sure what to make of anything that he was seeing. No matter what the case had been, he wasn’t in a position to help, to do anything but tell the little guardian that was proving to be very annoying right now to shut up. And by the look of it, things had happened so quickly he wouldn’t have been able to do anything anyhow.

How curious this was. Voltage had somewhat mentioned difficulties he had with his world’s government, the G.U.N. especially if he recalled correctly – something he did doubt with his condition still needing much improvement. He had been under the impression that this was a past thing, that the actions of GUN and their scientists had become better known to the public and that it had been… frowned upon, simply put.

This was not the case. Had Voltage been ignoring the shadows that followed him? Pretended that everything was okay and ignored the signs that it was not? Mephiles wasn’t sure what to make of these choices, especially not when they endangered so many people around him. By the look of it, he had paid quite a price for his mistake, others spared by sheer chance. Yet it could have been avoided, the injuries, the trauma… Voltage had been lucky, plain and simple. He should not have come out of that situation as well as he had.

The dark stared a while longer at the images, glad to see no one too badly injured but finding deep disappointment. So deep, in fact, that he’d forgotten his other half’s aversion to being awake at night. He blinked once, finding himself being stared back at for a moment, that being the tiny amount of time he was allotted before being reminded that Iblis’ restraint would run out and that moment was now. At least the dirt here wasn’t too terrible tasting.

Picking himself off the ground, he watched the fire starter get comfortable again before stepping back over to the water, wondering if it was even worth trying to catch any fish. There wasn’t much that Mephiles could do with the new information he had gathered but think on it, and he would have plenty of time to do that.

[afracturedexistence]

(GD copy)

The seasons were changing yet again and most of the in the worlds that suffered such change were accommodating the way of their world. Many of the sentient mortals had a ton of days throughout these colder months where they would celebrate past events, too; some days had no explanation to them, he felt, but it was still a good excuse to do… something. Some days they would give others gifts, some days they focused on eating, some days they would do something as menial seeming as lighting candles. Whatever the occasion was, they were sure to do something to show their appreciation for the day.

The day of giving, however, was yet to come; he remembered very specifically that that day normally came about a month after this one, sometimes two. Besides, gorging was an intelligent way for them to prepare for the colder months and the snow that would come with it, he thought. It didn’t hurt that he personally liked to eat. Either way, food could be seen as a universal language and it was so rarely seen as a bad gift, so everything was all good as far as he saw it.

So here he was, sat in his little desolated home surrounded by maybe a dozen whole cooked turkeys. At least, they looked like turkeys; tasted like them, too, but he wasn’t convinced of their species. They made excellent meals and that was all that mattered.

In addition to the bits of turkey that would be handed out, he’d found some plant life around to help make it an actual meal instead of a ton of turkey he’d be handing out. Berries had been picked and used to make pies – the crust for which he’d obtained elsewhere, a far more civilized land – and some cacti sap and pieces made a fairly nice soup that would all go well together.

To keep track of how many platters he would need to make and prepare, he’d written himself a list:

Arrow, the blue hedgehog with a broken ear* Fleetway, the super child* Hark/Satu, the people Voltage and Harmony liked* Ipse, the second eldest tragedy* Faivera, the devourer* Kanlins, the ones that he has watched for generations* the writing has been crossed out furiously and is illegible Chaos, the epitome of an ingrate* Voltage and Harmony, the ones with good hearts* Chaos, the everything*

He had completed the majority of the list already and now actually picked up a platter. Only the last recipients were ones he intended to visit in person, the previous meals having been sent to their destination alone through a portal. Now Mephiles would step through one himself.

Just as he had planned, he stepped onto a ground covered in healthy grass. Yet the world he came across was strange, its familiarity ruined by the distinct lack of something, the lack of someone. For the area so well known for the concentrated amounts of chaos energy that blanketed it, the usual amount was far lower and only decreasing with every second. With the Master Emerald sitting upon the island still, the energy levels would surely find a new one to stop at rather than depleting entirely, but with the original source of chaos gone…

Wondering where this person in question had gone, Mephiles found nothing to cure his curiosity as he scanned the area about him. Disbelief would turn to concern at the sight of the chao running about, most coming towards him; they were acting as though they were starved, starved of attention but more of food. That was so strange of any chao; wild chao were able to find plenty of food on their own so why did so much of this colony look like they were beginning to starve? Why were any of them in this state when they weren’t of a wild colony?

Everything right now was incredibly strange here. The chao were unusually demanding and the air wasn’t the way it was supposed to be. It was taking far too long for his intended company to greet him, be it with distain or vitriol. Usually by now, they were bickering and at each other’s throats.

So baffled by the lack of a response to his presence by anyone other than the chao, he would project his aura and a vague intention of harm. The chao would react with their own confusion; the danger had not been aimed at them and they noticed nothing out of the ordinary, so they and Mephiles were only left to stand there and wonder.

It seemed the rest of his recipients would have to wait until a later date to receive their presents.