“Gole, why are those humans cutting down that tree with pink leaves? It’s really beautiful.” Trouse asks curiously asks as Gole steadily trots along the path, no longer running at her frantic pace of the day before. Gole glances at the tree as the humans work to fell it with axes, and then quickly turns her gaze back to the stone trail.
“It’s a doub tree. Long exposure to it causes generational derangement,” she responds evenly, and Trouse looks at the tree thoughtfully,
“Is that why it’s called a doub tree? Did it cause the doubs to be the way they are now?”
“I believe so. No creatures really talk about doubs too much, so I can’t be sure.” Gole replies.
Trouse opens his mouth to ask a question as the group come up to the top of a hill, when a city in the distance catches Gole’s attention.
“There’s Er!” Poole exclaims from behind the two, and Gole increases her speed to a sprint as they race down the hill, letting her momentum carry her as the ground begins to level at the bottom, with Erve pounding behind, her hooves beating the ground relentlessly.
In little time, the adventurers arrive at the metal, front gate of the city and gaze silently up at it. The giant gate stands slightly ajar, with the wind whistling through it from time to time, adding to the desolation that can be felt even outside the city. A slow, silent fear creeps its way into Trouse’s heart as he peers nervously at the slight opening to the city, and he burrows down deeper into Gole’s fur.
“It’s too quiet. Do you think the poison got everyone here?” Poole asks solemnly, and Gole shakes her head grimly,
“There’s no way for us to know out here. We have to-“ Gole stops midsentence as the largest bag on Erve’s saddle begins to shake and squirm.
With a swift motion, Gole slices through the top of the bag where it’s being held onto the saddle, and it drops to the ground with a loud thump, the fabric falling to the ground to reveal the girl from the village surrounded by cracker-like wafers, now crushed on the stone road. The girl slowly stands up, wincing and stretching her legs while rubbing her bottom.
“What are you doing here? You could’ve gotten yourself killed!” Gole hisses, the silence of the city quieting the alterna’s loud character.
The girl smiles gently before saying,
“I’m very sorry to have alarmed you. I overheard my mother say you were coming to this city, and I wanted to come.”
“Why?” Trouse asks curiously as he peers out of Gole’s fur.
“My father lives here and my mother promised me that when I was taller I could come visit him- “At this, the girl stops to compare her height to Gole, who towers over her, before sighing,
“But I wanted to come now.”
Poole and Gole both exchange glances, and Gole looks away, leaving the task up to Poole.
“Do you know why we’ve come to this city?” he asks slowly, and Thigi shakes her head as she looks up at him politely.
Poole coughs nervously, looking in vain to his companions for assistance, but Gole refuses to meet his eyes while Trouse looks with pity at the girl, not even glancing at Poole.
“The reason we’re here is… We’re here because the water of this town has been poisoned.” Poole sighs, and the girl looks stricken,
“Poisoned?” she asks, dazed, her face aghast and deathly white, and she quickly turns and races through the narrow crack of the slightly open gate.
“Oh great.” Gole mutters before she follows the girl, squeezing with more difficultly through the gigantic metal gates, and opening them enough for Erve to follow after.
The group catches up with the girl, almost as soon as they enter the gates, finding the girl standing, frozen in horror before a well, surrounded by tuckers leaning against the well or laying around it, discolored and seeming to be asleep.
“What kind of poison is this?” she demands, tears springing to her eyes as she turns to face the group.
“It doesn’t seem to be lethal, if that’s any comfort.” Gole says as she glances over the slumbering tuckers, and the girl fiercely turns and starts shoving the sleepers around, searching for her father.
“Be gentle! We don’t know if they can feel or not!” Poole exclaims worriedly as the girl roughly tosses a lighter tucker away from the rest of the group as she hunts around the pile.
“He’s not here.” The girl says after she investigates the whole group, and she turns to hurry off to search elsewhere.
“Woah, hold up!” Gole exclaims catching the girl by her fur armor and dragging her back.
“Have you ever seen your father before?” She asks, as Poole eyes the pile of discolored sleeping trapen warily, and the girl wipes her nose.
“No, but my mother said I have his hair, expressions, nose and smile.” She says sullenly, and Gole sighs as she looks at the tuckers.
“Listen, none of them have their famous tucker hair at the moment, and they can’t make expressions either right now. We can check the buildings to see if there are any that haven’t been afflicted yet. They might be happy to tell us what happened and point us to your father,” she says, and the girl slowly nods.
“Okay. My name is Thigi, and I’m named after my father, so if we meet any tuckers named Thigi, that’s probably him.”
“Okay then, Thigi, why don’t you climb up on my back so we can move around through this city faster?” Gole asks, and Trouse pokes out of Gole’s fur to extend a hand to the girl, who gratefully accepts it as he pulls her up the mountain of feline.
Suddenly, Erve rears up, neighing loudly, and Poole exclaims,
“I see a light down that street!”
The rem points down a brick street where a light, bright like a beacon in the darkening city gloom, shines out against the dark houses around it.
“There is! It must be a survivor!” Thigi exclaims hopefully as Gole turns to look down the street, and begins to trot down it, warily glancing around at the dark brick houses, peering through the windows for movement as she goes.
Erve follows behind, equally as nervous, her hooves beating the ground with an almost hesitant rhythm, until they arrive at the lit building. The building has light grey walls that slope halfway up the house, suddenly expanding at the middle with a width that gives the house an uneven, top-heavy view. Perfectly, Poole dismounts Erve, dropping down to the ground below, and bolts like a cat up to the iron door, knocking on it loudly.
The knock echoes through the empty city streets, bouncing off the desolate houses, each echo striking slightly more uneasy fear into the adventurers’ hearts. There is a breathless pause, like that of a deer trying to evade the attention of the hunter, before the door opens a crack, and a flawlessly-skinned, charcoal black tucker boy with shimmering grey hair and pink eyes peeks out at them, a strange grey machine behind him emitting light that fills the whole house. He asks a question in a strange language, sharp and hissing, and Thigi promptly replies in the same language, hope and surprise clear in her voice.
Slowly, the tucker shakes his head and responds to the girl in a quiet voice, and Thigi droops.
“I was afraid of that.” She mutters, a visible gloominess coming over her, and the tucker says something in the language, opening the door completely.
“He’s inviting us to come in.” Thigi translates miserably, before the tucker looks at Gole distrustfully and adds onto his sentence,
“But not the alterna.” Thigi explains, and Gole bristles,
“And why on Nearth not? I’m the leader of this expedition!” She snarls, and the tucker narrows the opening to his house as he watches Gole’s reaction.
“You’ll have to find another house. Erve will keep you company, don’t worry. I’m sure you’ll find a nice house- you do have a variety to choose from.” Poole says as he steps through the opening of the house and Gole bares her teeth at him,
“’You do have a variety to choose from.’ Shut it, Pink Lance!” Gole roars at the boy, mimicking his voice as Thigi and Trouse slide off her back.
“Will you be okay out here?” Trouse asks, shivering as he looks around the deserted city, and Gole snorts,
“Of course I will! Do you think a quiet city is going to scare me?”
“It’s not the quietness that makes me nervous. It’s the feeling that we’re being watched from the shadows that makes me nervous.” Trouse replies, and Gole shoves the boy towards the house,
“Then go inside where it’s bright and leave it to the alterna to be brave.” She scoffs, and Trouse follows Thigi inside the house, glancing back at Erve and Gole as he enters.
As soon as the door is shut, Gole looks around her nervously at the dark houses around her, and leaps onto the roof with a swift bound, waiting for the group to emerge, and leaving Erve on the porch, where she stands looking through the windows at the company. Thigi and the tucker talk for a bit in the strange, hissing language, Thigi seemingly explaining the situation, while Trouse and Poole look around the house in wonder, studying the blueprints and contraptions hung neatly and placed on shelves around the house. Trouse’s eyes glitter as he studies a beautiful machine, laden with silver bells and playing softly in the background with a sort of twinkling, chiming sound, while Poole studies toys with pink diamonds embedded in them, powering them to act as if they’re alive, mingling amongst one another like shoppers in a market.
“His name is Seehea Sebook, and he says he has already researched the poison. Apparently, it has some magic in it that is so old and so awful that it could only have come from one person.” Thigi says, drawing the two boys back into the room.
“Do you mean-?” Poole asks, seeming not to want to finish his sentence, and Thigi nods solemnly,
“He L Sl.”
The words seem to bring a chill on Trouse, and he rubs his arms to keep them warm.
“Who’s that?” He asks nervously, and Thigi sighs,
“If you break his name down into English it literally comes out as, ‘Te r or’. Push that all together and add another r, what do you get?” She asks Trouse, and Trouse purses his lips,
“Terror?”
At that, the light flickers slightly, and Poole raises his eyebrows,
“Precisely. Now, can we not discuss this in the middle of an empty city?”
“Agreed.” Thigi and Trouse both say, and Poole glances out the window where Erve is staring in.
“I bet Gole is around if Erve is standing there. So much for a brave alterna.” He chuckles, before growing serious.
“I know of a human family eight days from History by horse that makes Providence Cloth. We’re going to need some durable clothes that won’t wear out for our journey if that is really where the source of this poison is coming from,” he says, and Thigi nods, as she says,
“That sounds like a good idea. One more thing- Seehea would like to join us.”