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The Waystation Ch.115
🕑 Added 2024-01-05 09:00:06 +0000 UTCChapter 115
Splitting the Party III
Scruff walked lightly over the frosty ground and tried to ignore the screaming argument between Wendy and her mother. She loved the girl; she could admit that now, but would it kill her to have a single conversation without screaming her head off?
Approaching her destination, she took a moment to look around before getting to work. The town was a thing of beauty. It really was. Scruff had been amazed enough at the things Bert and the Waystation built before, but this was the next level. Everywhere she looked was absolute beauty. Every building was built around a tree of some form, their strong stone walls shaped around and between roots and branches, with the trunk offering not just support but beauty.
Another look, with her other senses, showed the trees themselves were doing something… special.
More and more these days, Scruff was seeing and experiencing things she had no words for. Life as an urchin had not offered many opportunities for formal education, and for the first time, she was feeling the lack of it. She wanted to know the words to describe what she saw because she was reasonably certain no one else was seeing it.
Perhaps it was the Gardener of the Waystation Class or that she was a Plant-Fae now. All she knew was that they would have mentioned it if anyone else could see this.
She moved closer to the nearest building and placed a hand on the exposed tree trunk at one corner. Her eyes traced the flows down into the ground, where she saw the thick, sludgy mana drawn in by the roots and watched it flow through the tree. As it moved, the mana was cleaned somehow, looking brighter and moving faster until it reached the leaves, where it was released into the air in a faint shimmer of light.
A deep breath was all it took for her to feel the mana in the air. The entire place was already denser with mana than it had been, and the buildings had only been complete for a few hours.
Even the ground was changing.
The colors were brighter and deeper in the soil, and the grass was changing somehow. It kept shifting as she looked at it, seeming to be in first growth and full growth simultaneously.
Scruff just really hoped she could tell someone about this soon; she just needed to figure out what to say.
Refocusing herself on her job at hand, she walked on into the very center of the town to a spot she had specifically asked Bert to keep clear. That had been a tense moment, walking up to him and asking for the space without any idea how to explain why she wanted it.
“Sure, no problem,” Bert had said with a smile. “Everything else okay for you?”
She stared for a moment before remembering to answer him.
It had been that easy.
No demand for explanations, no telling her off for interrupting him while he was working, and no hesitation. She had asked, and he had said yes. It was a word she had known for most of her life but was still just beginning to understand.
Trust.
Genuine trust as well because he knew all about her. He knew where she was from, knew what kind of plants she grew, knew she had anger issues… everything. Bert was also aware that she experimented.
So, if this ended up a disaster, he would probably forgive her.
No one else would, but he would.
With a final sigh of anxiety, she dug a pair of tendrils into the ground and dug out a few inches of space. It was vital that it was not buried too deep. She placed the succulent seed into the hole and pushed the earth back in, patting it down carefully to keep it aligned to the surface.
Now for the tricky bit.
“Way Way, I need to let this claim a bit of ground here. Is that okay?” She whispered. There was no need to shout, after all.
The feeling of the Waystation, the feeling of being home, receded around her.
“Thanks, uh, keep an eye on this little guy for me, okay?” Scruff said and then pushed one thin tendril into the ground until it touched the little seed.
She didn’t activate a skill; she had lost all of those when she changed into a plant fae, something she should also tell people….
Instead, Scruff poured her mana and intent into the seed. In her mind, an image of what she wanted to happen formed. Scruff pushed that image out into the world and felt it resist.
The seed shuddered, the life inside almost fading as she pushed.
“Grow and be strong,” Scruff said, her words infused with her power. Below ground, the seed flushed with power, the resistance of the world bowed to her will, and the seed began to grow.
===============
Bert gaped as the center of town exploded.
Something was pushing up from below, and it was BIG! Peering through the dust and debris, he saw Scruff backing away from the thing as it grew, her eyes wide and glowing with power.
“I’ll see to it!” He yelled to Bell and jumped down before sprinting over to the young Fae. She didn’t turn as he ran up to her, eyes fixed on the strange thing that was pushing out of the ground.
“What is this?” Bert yelled to her over the grinding of stones. “Is this yours?”
“Uh, I think so?” Scruff shot an anxious look his way. “Sorry.”
He realized what was happening as the young woman went pale.
“Experiment?” He asked, eyeing the thick trunk that was still emerging like a timelapse of a hundred years of growth in seconds. “Will it eat us?” It may seem like a crazy idea, but this was Scruff.
“No?” She said as they both stepped back a bit, and the trunk suddenly thickened.
“Sound more sure!” Bert said with a wince.
“No!” Scruff said, but still looked nervous. “Probably?”
“EVERYONE GET BACK INSIDE THE WAYSTATION!” Bert yelled, pulling Scruff further away.
Scruff looked over at him with a defiant scowl, but she didn’t say anything, which was more worrying than he would like to admit. He was acutely aware of certain things held securely in the hidden bases of the Growing Cars of the land train. They were pink, they glowed, and they ate people.
Whatever this was, it was too big to stuff into part of the Waystation. It took almost an hour for the growth to slow, and he finally got a clear look at what it was.
“What did you do to it?” Bert asked Scruff immediately.
The massive succulent stalk was almost two meters across at the base, with large clusters of fans, just like before. The large fan on the top was there, too, but that was just about where the similarities ended.
Succulents were known for many things, but they did not have bark. Especially not metallic bark. Among other things succulents did not have were branches and leaves.
This had both.
The sight of the thick trunk/stalk with bark that shone with metallic glints and branches that grew out from the clusters of fans before splitting again and again until they ended in clusters of broad, flat leaves was enough to make anyone stop. The thing he was more anxious about was the veins.
They showed here and there where the bark was still growing and was clearly visible in the wide, flat fans, especially the massive one at the top with the odd-shaped holes.
The veins were red, and they pulsed visibly as he watched. He could even feel a faint pulse against his feet when he went close to it.
Bert had seen so many things in the last, he didn’t know how long, since coming to this world, but this… he just gaped up at it.
“It must be a hundred feet high,” He gasped, “At least.” Bert realized he was standing in shadow and turned back to his future daughter-in-law, “I’m going to have to ask what this is,” He shrugged. “Like, really?”
“You gave me the seeds!” Scruff said defiantly, “Eggs, whatever they were!”
“Wait a minute, eggs?” Bert asked, feeling even more worried by the second. Scruff was acting confident, but the vines on her shoulders were twitching and twining as she fidgetted absently. “Start with why they are eggs.”
“Well, seed-eggs?” Scruff said. “Obviously, they are plants, but they are also more.”
“Can we try and be just a little clearer here?” Bert asked.
“Fine!” Scruff reached a vine into her backpack, “But no attacking or shouting when I do; it’s shy.”
Bert just blinked and then felt ice water flowing through him.
Scruff held up a tiny succulent about the size of a small cat. The little fan was adorable; the clusters barely formed. The stalk flared at the base into a wide, thick disk, which appeared to have something like a crab growing out the bottom.
With dreadful certainty, his eyes drifted from the miniature one in Scruff’s gentle hands to the land he stood on and what he now knew was below it.
A pulse passed through the area, and Bert felt the Waystation’s influence retreating to give the new creature room.
“Talk. Fast.” Bert swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry. He looked up when Scruff didn’t answer to see her floating a few feet off the ground, eyes and skin shining with light.
“I can feel it! It’s just a baby, but it wanted its creator!” Her words left echoes in the air.
“Scruff! Is it aggressive?” Bert asked.
“No! It will do as I command, and I will not let it hurt you.” Her lips broke into a crazed smile. “I have created a new form of life! Part crab plant, part blood berry, part steel vine, all woven into a new form by my will!” She floated higher in the air. “This is power!” She laughed, wild and almost manic with her new discovery.
Bert tried to call her twice, but she was ignoring everything as she went on and on about the power at her hands.
“SCRUFF! PACK IT IN! NOW!” Bert yelled, his full power infused into every word as blue flames licked around the corners of his eyes.
Scruff’s glow flickered and died, sending her crashing to the floor as she stared at him in shock.
“I promise it won’t attack anyone,” Scruff muttered sulkily a few minutes later.
“Great, so what the fuck was all that?” Bert asked. “Why did you suddenly go all Bond Villain on me?”
“What?” Scruff asked.
“You were monologuing about your incredible power,” Bert said gently. “You were one step away from yelling for the mortals to bow before you.”
She blushed slightly at that but just looked away.
“If you intend to start your own religion, at least have the decency to wait until we get rid of the cult I started by accident,” Bert said with a wince. “I would really like to know what that thing is, however.”
“I don’t know!” Scruff said eventually. “I don’t have the words for the shit I’m experiencing these days!” She started to weep a little. “No one told me I would be doing all this stuff. How am I supposed to keep up?”
Bert hugged her, letting her cry for a bit until she pushed him away.
“Sorry,” She muttered, obviously uncomfortable with showing weakness.
Still.
“Upgrading Way Way might kill me,” Bert offered.
“What?” Scruff stared at him.
“Yeah,” Bert sighed. “Plus, I’m some kind of Lord of the Fae now, and Dagon is some multi-dimensional being that is apparently counting on me to stop this world’s apocalypse.” He wiped his eyes. “Also, my home world was almost destroyed by the return of the Fae, which is kind of my fault. Not to mention, I now have a daughter, and my wife is a pixie who REALLY likes to kill.”
“Uh,” Scruff said, looking horrified, “How have you not exploded with all that?”
“I’m beginning to think I might be insane,” Bert chuckled, “All this stuff must have broken something in me, and so I can handle it… somehow.”
“I never thought,” Scruff said, “You always seem to know what you are doing?”
“I deal with what is in front of me,” Bert said, feeling about a thousand years old. “I make a decision in the moment and really hope it is the right one.”
“That’s it!” Scruff looked horrified.
“I was no one,” Bert laughed. “In my old life. On my world. I was just an average guy. I didn’t command armies or even have any real talents.” He smiled at her. “I’m not really that smart either. What more can I do?”
“I’m not sure if it should, but that kind of helps. Thanks.” Scruff said. “Any tips for me with my new… creation?”
Bert thought for a while, trying to figure out what to say. What did one say to a person who created a new species and now had to raise it?
“I guess… be you. Be kind to it and gentle, and try to make sure it knows you care. Also, try and discourage any mass murdering it might want to do if you can.” He looked up at the sun, seeing it was almost mid-day. “Also, we need those fields. Sorry, but this is kind of a time-sensitive thing.”
==============
Fiona stalked out of the palace, Dagon’s laughter still ringing in her ears. There were few creatures in the universe she feared more or respected less than Dagon World Walker. Still, the laughter hurt.
She had been prepared for many things. For anger, for punishment, and even for death. Fiona had not been prepared for laughter.
The insufferable entity that had abducted her from her own world, out of boredom more than any attempt to save her life, had simply stared at her as he looked into time and laughed in her face.
It was almost as infuriating as Mister Herbert J. Hudson. She would not call him Bert, no matter what. So what if he hadn’t actually done anything other than exist? His mere existence was enough to irritate her. His mere existence had been enough to damn their home world, so it was enough to hate him for.
She wasn’t expecting him to fail, even if it made no sense for him not to fail.
No. he would have managed it somehow. That was what the Dagon was laughing at, she was sure.
Still, she would go and make sure.
No one did details like her. She would find a fault somewhere.
There was always a point of non-compliance. Always.
She would find it and demand recompense.
Even if Dagon wouldn’t force the issue, Fiona would know she had won.
And Bert would know that he had lost!
“Dammit!” Fiona swore in irritation. She had just said she would never call him that.
She was tapping her clipboard in irritation when the woman with the red hair stepped smartly around the corner and punched her in the face.
Fiona collapsed instantly.
“Good Evening,” A feminine voice called as Fiona woke to find that same red-haired woman sitting on a log a few feet away. Looking around showed nothing but a small patch of land, the fallen tree, and lots and lots of mist.
“I can still walk the mists, if only for a little while.” The woman explained absently, brushing a stray hair behind one ear.
“Who are you?” Fiona pushed her spatial senses into the surroundings, finding complete nothingness a few feet away in either direction. A pocket dimension of some sort?
“My name,” The woman seemed about to laugh for a second, then continued. “Is Felicia.”
“Why did you attack me?” Fiona demanded.
“To stop you from making a mistake,” Felicia grinned, the long scar on her face twisting slightly as she did. “One I made not too long ago.”
“You’re her, aren’t you?” Fiona paled as the stories of Mister Hudson’s arrival flowed through her mind.
“I see you are aware of my mistake.” Felicia smiled bitterly. “I wonder if I will ever live it down?”
“I’m not like you,” Fiona insisted, getting to her feet and brushing dirt off her slacks. “I am not stalking Mister Hudson.”
Felicia laughed at her, making Fiona’s teeth grind in irritation.
“Sorry,” Felicia said. “You may not have the same reasons I did, but the result will be the same.”
“Bullshit!” Fiona snapped, refusing to be cowed by this psychotic woman. “He will pay for what he did!”
“Yeah, but you know it wasn’t his choice or his fault.” Felicia sneered. “Don’t bullshit a bullshitter, love. You are so angry you just chose a target at random. He was handy. See how we are alike?”
Fiona simply glowered at the other woman.
“Spend a lot of time thinking about him? About how you will make him pay? About him begging for forgiveness?” Felicia chuckled, and Fiona saw the woman who the Watcher USED to be and felt afraid.
“Look what that obsession did to me!” She threw back her cloak, and Fiona gasped at the skin covered in scars that showed around the clothes she wore. “So I am here to give a friendly warning. Stop now and move on!”
“Or what?” Fiona asked with a sneer. “What will he do to me?”
“Him?” Felicia laughed. “Nothing. The poor bastard is not a violent person. He just attracts them.”
“Then who?” Fiona laughed. “Think I’m afraid of a pixie?”
“You fucking should be.” Felicia wasn’t laughing anymore. “That one? You really, really fucking should be.” She cleared her throat. “But I wasn’t referring to them.”
“You?” Fiona asked, shocked.
“I owe them a few hundred favors,” Felicia grinned. “You’re one.”
“Bert sent you?” Fiona gaped. “I don’t believe it!”
“Of course not,” Felicia snapped. “They know nothing of it. As far as they are concerned, I am a distant memory now.” She stood and walked toward Fiona, who found herself unconsciously backing away. “Give up now, or I will take the last of my power and drag you somewhere so far away that not even the World Walker will be able to find you.” She leaned in, suddenly too close. “Then it will be just you and me, and I get bored easily. I’ll play with you like I did him until you die. And maybe even after.” She grinned and stepped away. “Option Two is to give up now, admit it isn’t his fault, and just move on.” She winked at Fiona, “Trust me, you think he’s irritating now? Wait until you feel indebted to him for something.”
“Time to go, Felicia,” A man stepped out of the mists. Fiona knew he wasn’t there a second ago. Her senses would have told her. “Send her back, and we will conclude our business.”
“Oh, Fiona?” Felicia called as the mists swirled around her. “Don’t mention me to anyone… ever.”
A second later, Fiona stood in the city again, facing a mural on the side of the largest temple. A familiar face stared solemnly out at her.
“That was Death?” Fiona hissed as a cold wind blew through the square. “Death?” She shivered and hurried back toward the palace.
Fuck MIster Hudson, this was not worth it.
She’d get him some other way.
