The Forest in the Mountain

Subject: Terilynn Veranos | Classif.: Barzakh

As if Aberrations were not enough, Distortions just had to intrude upon their reality as well.

Based on Mortis’s explanation, the key difference between the two was their point of origin. If Aberrations were aliens from outer space, then Distortions were that very outer space itself. The literal gaps between realities, desiring to be filled. At least, that was the simplified version.

But Lynn didn’t fully buy it. Desiring to be filled? The only desire those cataclysms had was to see Mortis dead. What kind of “gap in reality” would casually drop a radioactive meteor on someone? And thunderstorms. AND hurricanes. If not for Mortis clearing it up, she’d have assumed they were ambushed by multiple Council members at the same time.

But the intensity of said ambush could be explained by the mountain, apparently. Mount Harlow, which they somehow went “inside,” was a magnet for these Distortions. A lightning rod that intercepted these unnatural phenomena. Without it, the rest of reality might outright collapse from these hazards. That was what the traitor meant earlier when he posed the question, ever wondered why you don’t find any natural disasters in the Spire?

A barely passable explanation. One that conveniently missed out why there was an entire alien world inside the mountain itself.

The Holographic Sea felt almost normal in comparison. Every single thing about this new space was beyond conventional understanding. Trees the color of blood that vanished if they got too close. Pristine, transparent rivers whose bubbles could carry objects of any weight. Everywhere she looked, she found question marks. Worse still, she could feel those question marks looking back at her.

This “rainforest,” which she assumed given how humid it was, was literally alive. It reacted to the car with curiosity. The trees grew taller just to peek at them. The wind blew away their fallen leaves on the ground, clearing a path just for the vehicle. Even the soil, patchy and uneven, flattened itself in obedience to the tires of the car. Were the woods conspiring against them or sincere in their welcome?

It would be so much simpler to call this entire environment an Aberration, but Tim claimed it wasn’t; for the simple fact that it was native to this reality. This… artist’s rendition of nature was as natural as the Mother Nature she was familiar with, no matter how much her body’s senses disagreed.

The entire time, the goosebumps on her skin never subsided, squeezed out of hiding by the sickly sweet air that permeated the space. The taste of cotton candy at the tip of her tongue could never quite vanish, no matter how much she coughed. She regretted not taking more alcohol from the cellar when they were at Pris’s. That bitter burn was exactly what she needed to wash the cloying sensation in her mouth. Even better if it could wash all the mismatched signals away between the wires in her brain. Every second in this rainforest was a living nightmare.

She wanted to go home, plop on her bed in the palace, and forget everything. No… even a random inn in the Mids would do. Anything to get away from this absurdist dreamscape. If Mortis were to pump Blackblood into the car and speed away like before, she would never complain about his driving for the rest of eternity. So why was he driving so slowly? The woods gave way to them, so hurry up for crying out loud!

But no. Out of all the times, he chose to drive slow now. How did the daredevil from before devolve into this Sunday driver? If he were on The Surface, she’d slap his face with a ticket even though it wasn’t her jurisdiction. Was it a crime? No. But it was treason. Treason!

“Can you drive faster?” The noble in her was spilling out of her voice. She wasn’t one to throw it around, but she could not take it anymore.

“Give the car a break. She’d just gone over 300. If I push her again, she’d… well, break.”

“You can heal the car now, no? Heal it then.”

Adjusting the rear-view mirror, he made it a point to roll his eyes at her through the reflection. “Look, I’m a—I was a doctor. Not a mechanic. I can’t ‘heal’ it as effectively as a person. Tell me, what do you know about the effects of cosmic radiation on Abyssite components?”

“What?”

“Exactly. The car needs rest.”

Mia made the mistake of chiming in. “Going slow lets us enjoy the view!”

“The view?!” Lynn felt her soul throwing up just from the whiplash. “This is an insult to nature! There is nothing to enjoy about this foul forest!”

“Close your eyes then,” Mia reasoned.

Lynn felt her blood boiling. Anger about to erupt through her goosebumps. The sheer audacity of that girl to tell her to ‘close your eyes.’ Did this peasant forget her place? Urgh!

“Now now,” said the driver. “Why don’t we all relax? We just survived a meteor. That was one hell of a ride, yeah?”

There was truth in his words. As much as she despised the place they were in, it did not diminish her exhaustion. The contents inside the paper bag at the corner of her seat were proof of that. Making it out of such a catastrophe was a miracle in and of itself. She shouldn’t get so worked up.

Taking Mia’s advice, she shut her eyes. The awful smell made it impossible to doze off, but at least her sight was spared from all the red that violated her vision. Instead, she decided to paint a picture of her own inside her head. That of the Spire.

The woods between the Holographic Sea and Mount Harlow. And to a lesser extent, the tunnel where they escaped the Abyssal Fangcrawlers. All of these spaces were connected unnaturally. Separate zones that had a mind of their own. Worse, all of them harbored some kind of reality-ending hazard like it was the most normal thing in the world.

Following that pattern, the inside of this mountain must have something like that too, no?

“Mortis.” She broke the silence.

“Please, just call me Tim.”

“We’re not going to just ‘pass by’ this place, aren’t we?”

“Yeah, we’re making a stop.”

Vague memories of turning into a fish and literal sound because of Pris swept across Lynn’s mind. “Would you be so kind as to explain who, what, why—we’re stopping? Would be nice to know in advance if reality is one step from falling apart, don’t you think?”

“It’s always one step from falling apart. But I guess you’d wanna know what flavor of ‘falling apart’ we’re going to taste, yeah?” His tone and the fact that he was driving a car made it sound more like he was taking them to eat dessert instead of a potentially world-ending detour. “We’re making a stop by an abandoned campsite. An old friend of mine lives in the cave next to it.”

Lynn scoffed. “I don’t suppose this ‘old friend’ of yours is an Aberration like Pris?”

“Not quite. He’s a monster.”

“A monster?” Lynn stopped herself from hurling an insult. This was Morti—Tim they were talking about. If the Red Rainforest had anything to go by, then this “friend” was bound to be as unconventional. “I didn’t strike you as a monster tamer.”

“It’s the other way round, really.”

“Is there anything we should be aware of before meeting this friend of yours? So that we can preferably stay in one piece?”

“He’s a lot friendlier than Pris, so not really. Except.... don’t step on his tail, I guess.”

“Tail?” Mia’s ears perked up. “Is he a dog?”

“Close. He’s a dragon.”

“A dra—”

Lynn could not believe her ears. Her throat couldn’t even squeeze out the word. A flying, magic-breathing calamity—the very monster that wiped out the previous inhabitants of The Surface still existed? It was simply not possible.

She declared, “Dragons are extinct!”

“I bet Harlow would have something to say about that.” Tim chuckled.

“Harlow? The mountain?” Mia asked.

“Harlow is the dragon. The mountain is named after him.”

It all clicked for Lynn. This bizarre, yet “natural” rainforest. If a dragon lived here, its presence alone would no doubt warp the surroundings to this degree. This was a being whose magical breath was so potent, it altered The Surface to the point that every human born thereafter was born with a Gift. Even after multiple generations, the very source of their Acritae could be traced to such a beast. The only question was:

“Is this the same dragon that destroyed The Surface?” Lynn asked.

“Harlow?” Tim thought for a bit. “Doesn’t sound like him. He fought on the side of the machines during the Aberration War. Might be another dragon.”

Aberration War? How ancient must that be for her to never have heard a word of it?

“Never mind.” She shook her head. “What’s the point of us meeting with such a monster in the first place?!”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Tim replied. “Dragons are the strongest type of monster around. I’ll feel a lot safer if Mia could shapeshift into Harlow.”

-----

Subject: Mia | Classif.: Barzakh

Turning into a dragon? Did that mean she could fly?

The thought of taking to the skies made Mia feel lighter already. It was like that time when her Dad gave her the scarf as a present. An equally exciting gift was headed her way. Could she breathe fire? Would her claws tear through metal? How many grenades would she be able to fit on the palm of her dragon hand? She was so excited, the pain in her back from sitting so long literally fixed itself.

But that was when it hit her. She already had enough trouble trying to walk as a Demonelk and Fangcrawler. Flying would be a different can of worms altogether. But this made her more determined than ever to master her monster forms. So when the car came to a stop, she couldn’t wait to hop out and transform right away.

“Why did we stop?” Lynn asked. “I don’t see a cave, or a campsite for that matter.”

The only thing around them was a lake, its water clear enough to look straight into the bottom. No sign of civilization down there, or anywhere by the shore.

Her Dad stepped out of the vehicle, eyebrows furrowed. He seemed just as confused as Lynn, which was rare. “Everything’s ‘moved’ since the last time I was here. Let me get my bearings for a bit.”

Mia took this opportunity to spring out of the car herself. “Is it okay if I look around, too?”

“Sure, just don’t wander off too far aw—”

Turning into a Demonelk, she leaped off into the woods before he could finish his sentence. There might or might not be a sigh at the end. Mia wasn’t sure. She was too focused on practicing her quadrupedal movement. Dragons have four legs, after all.

But her gait was downright awkward. Instead of trotting or prancing like a normal Demonelk, she jumped. Front hooves and back hooves behaved more like pogo sticks. Even the weird trees felt like they were judging her. Their trunks curved and turned in her direction, as if they were all giving her side eyes.

Determined not to let a bunch of plants make fun of her, she ceased her bouncing. Her empty deer skull thought long and hard. After making up her mind, Mia walked, one leg at a time. It was as if she were line dancing in slow motion. More wobbling than walking.

But she did not stop. Every time she fell, she got back up.

Left hoof. Right hoof. Front hoof. Back hoof. She pushed her car-sized body forward as demonic groans left her maw. Like a drill sergeant from hell, each step was followed by a grunt, her legs marching forward. But through this bizarre ritual, she found her rhythm.

Her legs no longer moved individually; they moved in tandem. Her pace sped up. The leaves on the ground floated away more quickly. She could feel the wind blowing against her.

She was actually running on all fours.

She would still stumble occasionally, but no longer did the rainforest tease her. Her speed matched that of her human form. If she kept at this, she would go even faster. Turning. Pivoting. Moving backwards. Somehow, everything clicked for her. She felt agile. Free, even. Was it always this fun to be moving on all fours?

Mia raced around the woods, zipping from tree to tree, trying to catch them before they disappeared. She danced like no one was watching, having the time of her life in her Demonelk form. Dashing through this alien world, she felt so light, it felt like she was flying.

She realized too late she was actually flying.

Tumbling off a cliff, the sheer height of the drop made her heart stop. The bottom of the abyss was as clear as day. A literal pile of garbage, one that she was all too familiar with.

She was falling into The Wishing Well a second time. A one-way trip back down to Pitstop.