Chapter 12: The half-boat in the half-night

There was no night or day in the red crystal realm, instead sometimes the crystal of the realm would dim, and all would be shrouded in deeper shadow, in these moments even the crystal sky stopped moving. The movement taking that place was dark forms and shadows darting about, whispering and murmuring to each other, some just whispering to nothing or no-one at all, not even themselves.

Perhaps Olice should have been more frightened by this state, this half-night of dancing shadow, but somehow she felt more at ease. It was true that Gander was stronger in this half-night, but Olice more felt a bond with the shadows, that was what comforted her. When she was little, before the court guru, her Uncle Baylthom found out, she would play with shadows.

It was common enough among children that were strongly aligned with Phantasm, especially among those that did not have many regular playmates.

A not too uncommon saying is that ‘the shadows favour those that favour them’. More rarely tacked onto the end of that saying is ‘until the day they hide your doom’. You’d never catch an Awarthian saying something so trite though.

Ultimately most shadows do not even have a mind like an animal’s.

Toro did not cope nearly as well with the playful shadows, in part they sensed his turmoil, his unease. Shadows of memories were rearing their heads in his mind. He was sure the fog in his mind would soon completely depart, but truthfully he was fairly frightened of what those memories would hold. What kept him going was the thought of his daughter, he had to be strong for her, didn’t he? However unpleasant reality was…

Still as much as he had that motivation of caring for his child, he was worried. Perhaps his mission, his hazcarp had been sabotaged? Was that why he ended up in the Red Crystal Realm? He tried to push the worries away, for the sake of the child before him and the child he left behind, but the shadows clustered at his back.

The two spirits of the party, Gander and Susasov, rested, both of them being quite drained, though for different reasons. Gander however would even though he was sleeping, eat any stray shadow that tried to mess with Olice and Toro. For a spirit such as he, there wasn’t too much difference in acting while asleep or awake.

They wandered in the depths of the half-night, the magic ribbon gleaming, cutting their way through the frequently maze-like surroundings. Some of the dark things were frustrated at people travelling with such direction and purpose. To them, it wasn’t right unless one was wandering aimlessly. Unlike some shadows, these obscured beings had the wit to not tangle with Gander. Most of the beings that could have come out the better in a scuff with Gander were thankfully busy with their own comings and goings.

Managing to not stumble too much, they saw some lights in the distance, not at all like any lights of the Red Crystal Realm. No, these lights were a chilly wavering green.

Toro stopped and held out a hand. He had been walking beside Olice, he would have led, but he couldn’t see the ribbon.

“Olice, can I trouble you to send Gander out to scout those lights ahead” he asked.

Gander popped his head out of Olice’s shadow.

“Oh sssure ssend the sssshadow sspirit out to check out the ominous lightssss, a marvellous plan!”

Olice shook her head.

“Gander, just go, you’re fast at flying away, you’ll be fine!” she said.

“Escape iss the most powerful battle technique” Gander stated proudly, already making his way over to the lights.

Olice and Toro were alone for a few tense moments, well alone apart from the resting Susasov and an uncounted number of shadows and voyeuristic beings of the dark.

“Do you remember how you became the owner of such a wondrous device?” Olice asked Toro.

“Hmm? Oh, the Trans-Hazcarp, Well, I don’t own it, not really… Dromforge Alchemic Industries, that was what they were called, they own it. I’m just the test pilot”

“Oh” Olice felt it was a bit sad that Toro didn’t own the hazcarp.

“Will they give it to you when all the testing is done?”

Toro laughed.

“No, they’ll probably take it apart and improve it, I’ve a lot of tests to do, and after that? I’ll probably never see the carp again”

“How unpleasant!” Olice said.

“Oh, they pay me well enough, I remember that now.”

Just then, Gander’s voice resonated in Olice’s mind.

-Missstresss, everything iss more than sssafe, do hurry and come over-

Olice and Toro warily made their way over to Gander, more accurately Toro did his best to be wary while trying to keep up with a surprisingly fast Olice.

What they saw was quite an odd sight. It was like the back half of a caravan wagon had been smashed onto the front half of a boat. It was all made from blackened mossy wood. The canvas of the caravan part was actually brown leather, and on closer inspection looked quite like a pair of leathery wings folded over each other. The wings made room for a small iron spout in the shape of a reptilian head, smoke slowly made its way out of it, more like ephemeral spirits than smoke.

The prow of the boat arched back over the caravan-boat like some twisted horn of a great beast. Hanging off this prow-horn was a collection of lanterns with ghostly green glows within. Each one was different, though the majority were metal and minimal in design.

One however looked like it was made from some aged paper, within this one, was a light not quite like the others, this light had a face! A grumpy surly face, an ugly face, but a face all the same.

This face gave Olice and Toro a pair of greasy spiteful looks, then it sighed, looking quite depressed.

“Welcome to Poarge’s wandering soul food shack, Poarge’s got what’ll make your soul whole” The face said, in bored monotone.

It glared at them, daring them to complain.

Neither Olice or Toro wanted to interact with the surly face.

Instead they turned their gaze to the end of the caravan-boat. Warm green light peeked out from black velvety heavy curtains that didn’t quite reach the ground. Visible on the ground was the legs of an attractive jade bench.

Olice and Toro both made they way through the curtain.

What greeted them was warmth, such warmth in both a physical and non-physical sense. It was like the hug of a beloved parent, but in greasy fried food smell form.

What really drew their attention however was the skeleton behind an arcane array of pots, pans and bubbling vats of whatever.

-Welcome to Poarge’s Wandering Soul Food Shack, weary ones, I’m Poarge- A mysteriously fat and jolly voice emitted from the skeleton.

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