Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"I placed my faith into the hands of random gods."

"Now I must endure it to the end."

-Distant Towers upon Cracked Earth

If this device has failed me in the effort to document my travels, then at worst I've just committed to some peculiar meditation sessions as I venture forth from home.

But if it does succeed, then I have a story for you reader, and a means for you to read it. If we're of the same constitution, that is.

---

Ah… but where to start? My home, perhaps.

It is a coastal settlement of scugs, a colony that has formed around a spire of metal and wiring which easily clears the treetops. A square base rising high into the air, with four legs cutting deep into the coast. The construct stands almost in defiance of the sea itself, as it punctuates the end of one world and the beginning of another.

A ring of clouds congeals around the structure constantly, dispensing a never-ending supply of water onto the land below, a marsh forming from the perpetual rainfall, filtering out into the sea at its border.

Some of our colony live at its base, adapted to live in such damp conditions. Most however have taken to roosting at the structure's roof, the ruins of those who came before us a dry escape from the land below.

Our ancestors had struck a deal with the being that calls this spire home. We remain close, in case it requires a favor or two. In exchange, it allows us to call its domain home. A respite from the traditionally nomadic life of our kind.

So we flourished, becoming a waystation for many of the roaming troupes that dot the wilderness. One of a few stationary colonies that have found purchase in the ever-desolate soil of this world.

---

Personally, I wouldn't consider myself a slugcat of any real note. I was found as a pup amongst the others one day, with the long fur of a city scug, but the tinted sclera of a coastal scug.

A strange addition to the mob of rowdy pups. But I was accepted, if warily, into the group nonetheless.

The adults kept to their tasks while we played, under the gaze of a caretaker of course. Wrangling twenty-odd pups was a full-time task, and sometimes we would sneak beyond our guardian's gaze despite their best efforts.

It was on one such excursion I would find the painting which would enamor my younger self, following me into the present.

Plastered onto the wall of a building, it was. In a tight alleyway that required squeezing through a pipe to reach. A mural of a lanky figure in robes, a head not unlike the machinery that lay just under our little paws, opulent in design. Immense in its dimensions upon the wall itself, a remembrance of the ones that once lived here.

What caught my attention the most was not the figure itself, but what was being held in their hands.

A tool of some sort, with an oblong base and a neck extending into the other hand. What looked to be strings drawn across that span, the figure almost plucking at the threads upon its base. 

For the longest time, I recall trying to decipher what use such a thing had. Sometimes being left to gawk at the piece when the attention of my fellow scugs slipped, a pebble providing faster entertainment than the scribblings of a dead species.

It would get so severe that the cold wind whipping through the streets would remind me that today's cycle was nearing its end. The evening's pale moonlight is a poor substitute for finding the mural's purpose. I'd slip back into the den with the remaining pups not retrieved by their parents, tired and no closer to the answers I sought and an earful from our caretaker at the time.

A mild curiosity grew into an enduring fascination. Many cycles would see me egg the adults of the colony with that question. All of them gave faux responses to satiate my interest and leave them be. 

"Perhaps it lets them fly through the air?"

"Maybe it controls the rain."

"Must have let them fling spears with thought alone. That'd be handy,"

Needless to say, my curiosity failed to be satiated.

---

Such fancies drew me further in. As the cycles progressed into sequences into rotations, my fancy grew into a flourishing need to find this device's purpose. A dedication that followed me past my pup hood, the solution a tall order despite its simplicity.

If no one knew in the colony, I would just make one of these devices myself.

When not helping ferry fresh catches from the base of the spire, My days were spent scouring for the materials needed for my project. Driftwood for the base, wiring for the strings, and bolts to keep everything together once assembled. 

The first attempt at replicating what was on the mural was… paltry. I had copied the pose and found nothing in the way of the fantastical responses of my elders or peers. Understandable, but still…

Frustrated, I picked at one of the wires I had pulled taut across the length and nearly dropped the piece when it gave a scratchy TWANG in response.

A few more errant plucks, and a direction was revealed. This wasn't a terribly pleasing noise? But maybe with better care?

The next few creations were a blur of activity. A hole in the base of the mural's depiction pointed towards the item needing to be hollowed out. Knobs on the end of the item's neck hinted at the wiring needing a way to relieve or add tension for different variations on its sounds.

I tried four wires, five wires, six or even more. Eventually finding the upper limit on how many could be fitted before it became unwieldy to hold.

Each iteration toyed with the sound when the strings were strummed. Evolving from a scratchy, ugly noise that drew the ire of any scug nearby to something more soothing to the ears. 

It was perhaps a rotation and a half of fervent working when possible before I had anything impressive to show for it. Even then, such strumming only caught the attention of the local slugpups that took to watching me work, and the occasional passing scug stopping to listen for a spell, before the question of practicality eventually drew them back to their daily tasks.

I took what compliments I could, and found myself frequently holding the attention of that same group of pups as they huddled around to listen. Their caretaker was glad to catch a break, if only briefly while I strummed away the minutes with this strange device lost to time.

I was content, my little sound maker had a purpose. If only a tiny one.

I didn’t expect that to be enough to attract the attention of something so big afterward.

—

Ah, It appears my time spent committing my musings to this marble took more time than I expected. My stomach protests the hours spent idling as the cycle winds to a close around me.

I will check tomorrow for any indication that the thoughts took to this pearl, and my time was not spent idling away at a fool's errand. For now, food and sleep take precedence. The sky is clear currently, there may still be time for a hunt by the moonlight before I turn in.

Chapter Text

---

The night excursion went well enough. Clams are still plentiful this far upriver and I remained dry when I awoke this morning. While things are still calm, I can catch this log up with current events perhaps. There’s still so much to cover, and I’ve only been traveling for two cycles, I shouldn’t waste more than I need to!

Now… where was I?

---

Right! Two cycles ago. I was making my way back to my den. An unassuming little nook not that far from the mural. Not big enough to house a family, nor close to anywhere useful food-wise. A domicile by any other name made all the comfier with some shrubbery from below the spire.

Another cycle had been spent helping keep the pups busy. I had been asked by a few of my peers to assist with a trip down to the shores next cycle, so turning in early seemed wise, the setting sun painting the space a deep orange as evening approached.

The sharp purple light radiating from the entrance to my shelter stood in stark contrast. Strange, that’s never happened before?

Tentatively, I poked my head into the entrance to decipher the culprit of this glow. But the creature met me halfway instead, my head knocking against something hard and circular.

I pulled back, and sitting before me was this wisp of a creature. It softly hummed from one of the walls of the entrance, the purple strand connecting to the glass eye I had errantly bumped my head against. Tendrils extended from that eye in a circular formation, much like a flower.

It blinked, and what was sitting before me became clear. An Overseer, from the spire. These were meant to pick out scugs the colony's benefactor deemed worthy of completing a favor. We were told of these as pups, in case it came to us to assist the being from below.

As if to prove such a point, the Overseer's eye glowed white. Projecting an image of myself idly plucking at my strings, before displaying the main entry the colony used to reach our benefactor.

The projection vanished, followed shortly by the Overseer itself, the tendril pulling its eye into the wall before disappearing entirely. A curt invitation, with little in the way of an explanation

A pit formed in the bottom of my stomach. No doubt other Overseers had displayed the same image to the others in the colony. I wasn’t even remotely the most impressive scug on the block, let alone the whole colony! I hadn’t even earned a name yet! Why had I been chosen?!?

The next few moments were a blur, simply aghast at the invitation. The whole colony would be looking out for me, expecting me to fulfill this civic duty for the sake of the group. This was less of an invitation and more of a summons. One where not everyone who answered its call returned from…

I recall spending a moment sitting by the mural. Running a paw over the metal wall it was affixed to. Possibly for the last time.

Perhaps I was doomed, but this benefactor had been around for generations. They had no doubt seen the metropolis’s old inhabitants and their departure. Maybe they had seen this device I had made.

What might I learn from these summons, then? Was it not worth putting my life on the line for answers?

---

Traveling to the access pipe took about an hour of hard trekking past alleyways and streets. The colony had cleared out enough rubble for the average scug to get to where they needed, but there were still gaps that needed leaping across, exposed rebar to use as makeshift ladders. Shortcuts that were memorized with months of repetition. This was an urgent summons, so I took the route deserving such urgency

Keeping a few floors off of street level helped keep eyes off of me, but there were a few other slug cats taking the same route as I. They gave a nod as I passed, the Overseers had done well. Maybe too well. One wished me good luck as I passed. I didn’t take a moment to respond.

Sliding down a pile of rubble, I gazed upon my destination. What was once an intersection now had the rubble from the nearby structures filling in three out of the four paths here. A pipe had been exposed, a small canvas sheet pulled atop some rebar dragged close to the entrance to provide shade for the two guards on watch, longer fur whipping in the wind with their cover. The one with the minty pelt was laid out catching a small nap, while the other (with a deeper red pelt) leaned against his spear idly. He gave a nod as I approached.

“Took you long enough, Thought we’d be seeing Overseers with your mug for a few more cycles before you showed.” He chittered, thwacking his minty companion with his tail to get his attention, waking the scug in the process. “Are you good to go then?” He then asked.

I nodded, delaying any longer seemed a poor choice at this point.

“Right, follow me then,” he said afterward, a small whisper to his compatriot to keep watch before he ducked into the pipe, spear still tucked to his side as I followed.

---

I had been inside the spire before, its network of paths and rooms had been mapped out by other, more adventurous scugs. A select few avenues were prime highways for reaching the bottom of the structure within a few cycles of travel.

This one though seemed even more straightforward, leading into a room that looked to have been a checkpoint once, automatic doors left open for the colony to pass freely into the structure.

The next room over was more open than the first, with light leaking through two partitions up above to reveal large purple symbols along the walls in the far distance. My escort led me to some scaffolding that required some deft handiwork to scale, as we climbed, he spoke up again.

“Hey, you were the pup that kept eyeballing that painting, right? Back in the day, I mean,” he asked. My paw almost slipped from the next handhold as my attention was pulled.

“...That I was, Why do you ask?” I answered in kind. Hoping this wasn’t going to lead to a question of why I had been chosen over him. My spear work paled in comparison to any scug in the watch.

There was a small chuckle from him as we climbed, “Lucky you, this might be up your alley then.” He mentioned off-handedly as he finished scaling the piping, offering a paw as I caught up, which I took gladly.

A good thing too.  I had forgotten how to walk for a moment as I was hoisted up, Another painting adorned the wall of this chamber!

The figure in this one appeared to be wrapped in a red cloth, flanked by large discs deflecting what looked to be a hail of spears. Nowhere near as serene as my preferred mural, but there was an intensity to this piece that held my attention.

Perhaps for too long, though. A jab to my ribs from my escort's elbow snapped me back to attention. He jabbed a thumb at the pipe that led further down, piquing my interest in what he said next.

“There’s more where that came from, You’ll get to see them all as we go. Try not to fall behind, alright?”

---

I admit, my pace faltered as we passed deeper down through the following four rooms. Each painting proved more intriguing than the last, a symbol clearly marked on each as we descended. My maroon-pelted guide had to keep reminding me we had to be somewhere, which in hindsight was good. We might have been stuck there the whole cycle had I been given the time to gawk.

The descent finally gave to a long, cramped corridor, dimly lit by the flashing red lights of the still functioning technology. The lifeblood of the being I was about to meet, technically speaking.

We traveled in silence for the next few minutes, the end of this last corridor punctuated by a singular pipe that cut deeper in the direction we had been traveling.

My guide stopped and motioned at the entrance. “This will take you straight to her,” he chirped curtly, “My advice? Play nice, nod along, and be ready for a bit of a headache after the fact.”

I made to enter, but he held up a paw before I could get low enough to enter. “By the way, you’ll end up going through another pipe when you're done, Should be a blue fella with frills waiting for you. He’ll take you through the cooling pipes down to the base of the structure, fastest way to get down from here.”

“Just remember to hold your breath, yeah?” he finished with a small smirk. I gave him my thanks and slipped into the pipe, eager to get this over with.

---

I’ve just realized how warm my back is from hunching over this pearl for so long. Midday has arrived in all its splendor, A quick dip in the river for some more clams seems in order. Should save me from having to work under the moonlight, like yesterday.

This log will be caught up to current events before the cycle is through. Depths willing, of course. A quick breather for now to stretch my limbs, then back to scribing. Or meditating, depending on if this pearl is functioning or not.

...I better receive some sort of sign soon.

Chapter Text

Right. My stomach is full, and some progress has been made upriver. The current back home is still mild but requires paddling to make any headway. The sort of thing that's hard to achieve when interfacing with a pearl.

Speaking of, there's a small pink spot forming on the violet surface of this one. Perhaps I am leaving my mark on it after all?

Something to look out for as I progress. For now, more catching up to the present.

---

I had braced for a hard fall as the pipe turned downwards. Imagine my surprise then, when that tether to the ground simply…vanished.

I’m not proud to admit that I started flailing as soon as my body lost touch with the entryway, turning head over tail as I quickly lost which way was up and which was down. I could make out the vague shape of something else in the room, but a clearer view didn't come until that lost tether was reactivated, the expected fall actually occurring like a switch had been flipped upon my entry.

The ground was a smooth tile of sorts, not the comfiest place to break a fall. But when I looked up from where I lay, that’s when I saw her.

She was shaped like the beings in the murals, but much smaller. A series of red and blue wires connected their metallic purple frame to a series of rods, that themselves connected to a point in the walls of this dark green chamber I now found myself in. This frame wore a blue cloak, and atop her forehead was a half-circle on a horizontal line. From the sides of her head came a rounded metal headpiece that wrapped around the back of her head and met in the middle, forming a peculiar-looking crest attached to her round head.

At this point, I became aware of a strange scratching noise coming from somewhere within the room as they floated down towards me, hands unfurling from beneath the cloak as they clapped together in what could be seen as elation. Was she trying to communicate?

With a sweep of an outstretched hand, the wall behind me lit up in neon green. A projection! Like the Overseers, but much larger, the sequence of images began on the left, The symbol on her forehead, followed by some squiggly lines, then an image of a slugcat.

The image changed, a diagram of a slugcat showing a red portion in their head, or was it my head? Was I being scanned?

One more transition. A slugcat jumping in place on a green background, and a different scug on all fours backing off the screen in a loop imposed on a red background. A glance back at the being saw her waiting expectantly, arms folded back into the cloak.

It became obvious, I was being asked a question. Yes or no, clearly. But to what exactly I was agreeing to could have been a bit clearer…

In hindsight, the choice wasn’t exactly mine, no doubt I would have been shooed out of the room for turning down such an offer. My memory gets hazy after I gave a few hops of affirmation, tendrils of electricity leapt off of the being as she lifted her hand. My hind paws left the ground as I was lifted off the ground once more. Coming face to face with my benefactor as she reached out, a metallic finger tapping my forehead…

A loud pang echoed through the chamber, a searing pain racking my head as my body hit the floor, whatever process that had just occurred leaving a wracking pain and a ringing in my ears. It couldn't have been more than a minute before the pain subsided before I tentatively arose from the floor with that lingering migraine as I…

Well, I wish I could say I heard this, but that wouldn’t do the experience justice. It was like a thought that wasn’t my own found its way to me, clear as the sun above the clouds. It held a distinctly feminine register that served to distance itself further from me.

The thought asked a question, and a simple one at that.

“Hello, little one? Is this reaching you?”

---

She was floating just above me, a series of rings projected on the screen behind it, the sparks bouncing making a noise not too dissimilar to a set of pebbles in a tin bouncing off of the walls as each thread sparked away from this center.

A link between the colony's benefactor and me. I had heard of slugs communicating with her, but this was a peculiar method of doing so. Suppose no one was interested in speaking of the headaches caused by the procedure after the fact, save my escort from before.

I tried to think of an affirmation but was met with silence. Only a single avenue for communication, apparently. I gave a small hop instead, the humanoid frame above me nodding, their mechanical eyes looking pleased with the response.

“Excellent! You’ll have to forgive me for the ringing in your ears. The Mark of Communication can be a bit intrusive. Still, another successful procedure, it seems!” She spoke in my head, her hands unfolding from the cloak to clap together once more at the assertion. “You may call me Seeks Further Depths. I am an Iterator, one of many designed to help free creatures such as yourself from the unceasing patterns you find yourself locked into.”

The jargon went a little over my head if I’m honest. Regardless of if my lack of understanding was noticed, a sigh rang through my thoughts as her hands unclasped once more.

“I wish I could say I’ve made personal headway on the matter, but the passage of time has thrown quite a few roadblocks into my group's work on providing that means. A matter that requires assistance from one such as yourself.” She continued, a projection flickering into existence behind her as she turned. This was an image of what looked to be a superstructure similar to the one we were inside but severely deteriorated. The image changed between different angles of the structure, and if one wasn’t familiar with living on top of one of these, It’d hardly be distinguishable from the abject destruction on display.

“Namely, the head of our local group, Looks to the Moon, has suffered catastrophic damage to her structures. A collapse, if you will. The cause of this may be too complex to explain to you in one sitting, but the results are much easier to communicate.”

Her gaze drifted back to observe me, mechanical features unable to pass on the gravity of the situation, but tried their best nonetheless as they spoke. “Aside from losing our leadership at the time of the crash, our communications network was severely hampered. We were able to make this work for a time, but…”

---

The slide changed, and a map with each of the superstructures across the region appeared. Lines connecting each one flashed on a rhythmic loop, and the one in the middle (presumably this Moon she had mentioned previously,) was completely grayed out, with no lines connecting it.

The lines connecting each structure cut out soon after the image was brought up, with Depths punctuating the example directly.

“Our connections have been terminated completely. Now we’re in the dark, with no ways to communicate besides sending creatures like you as messengers. While I admire your kind’s ingenuity, even I have to admit such a method is highly inefficient.” She admitted. I recall not being sure if I was offended or impressed, perhaps a little bit of both at the end of the day?

Either way, the screen changed once more, a smaller map, containing the grayed-out marker for Moon, and a still active marker that had been placed extremely close to where Moon’s superstructure was. This one didn’t have any lines of communication in the first place either, strange…

Depths spoke up again to explain things further, “Another iterator and I had a contingency plan for when this eventually occurred. He would send one of his creations with some extra assistance for Looks to the Moon, enough to restore basic systems functionality.”

As she spoke, an icon appeared on the edge of the screen. A diamond with an X inside of it, followed by the image of a Slugcat appeared at the map's boundary, making its way on top of Moon’s icon, which lit up again after they arrived.

From the opposite corner, an icon matching the one stenciled onto Depth’s forehead appeared. “Now, this is where we come in.”

---

The icon that indicated me moved to intercept the first group. “You and an overseer will regroup with the first party sent to assist Moon, and retrieve the black box that contains… hmmm.”

I couldn’t help but look over as she paused. A metallic hand tapping what would constitute a chin for the frame. No doubt anything involving these masses of wiring and metal wouldn't be complicated.

She found the right words soon enough, “It's the box that lets us access our network, should be on top of what remains of her can, Ancients willing it of course.” She said soon after, an image of the supposed ‘black box’ being projected onto the screen, followed by the conjoined lines of both parties traveling to the much more active marker.

“From there, you’ll be heading up the nearest and largest active Iterator, Five Pebbles.” She continued, “Relations with him have been… rough, to say the least. But his can should have a better connection that's still central enough for the local group to access it until we can find a better solution.”

Was that trepidation in her voice? The image shifted to one that looked to be the top of a building, not unlike the ones that dotted the top of Depth’s ‘can,’ if that was their terminology for themselves. “Simply place the black box into an access point within the communications tower in the center of his Metropolis, and our work will be done.”

---

With that, the projections cut out. The wall returned to its natural dark green hue with the circles denoting our continued communication as she turned to speak with me directly. “This is… a lot to take in, of course. I would ask if you had any questions, but unfortunately, the Mark is a bit too complicated-,”

Perhaps it was rude, but I did give a small hop as she spoke. Her demeanor faltered for a moment, a small handful of electric tendrils bounced off of the circular projection behind her as she found a footing once more, “Well, if you have the means, ask away.”

The hint of bemusement in her projection into my head wasn’t lost on me. I simply tapped my paw against my chest. Why me?

Her response was a simple tilt of the head from the machine's puppet, followed by a small laugh passing through my thoughts. “Why you? It’s quite simple, really.”

The whirring of the metallic rod that connected this small piece to the rest of this gargantuan machine whirred softly as she pivoted to the other side of the room, the opposing walls holograms presenting… images of myself as a pup?

The purple frame glanced over her shoulder at me as I gawked. “It would be remiss of me not to do my research before I pick my messenger. After all, this colony has produced a variety of different personalities from within its community.”

At the mention of the colony, a myriad of pictures of the different denizens around the superstructure were brought up. Some were from the city, others from the coastal settlement down below. All of them were undoubtedly taken from Overseers over the many cycles we had inhabited the area.

She continued as the images were removed until only one of mine remained, a still of me keeping the pup's attention with my errant strumming. “It’s not every day I see one of your kind attempt to mimic my creators. Much less do so successfully, if lacking a bit of tact. Tell me, do you even know the name of that instrument strapped to your back?”

I… didn’t even know it was called an instrument. I would have nodded at the moment, but my blank expression probably gave me away.

“It’s a Mandolin. And you’ve been making music with it. Or trying to, at least.” Said Depths, the image of me fading as a set of two smooth, circular objects began floating from the ground to our side, almost orbiting her purple frame as she snatched the cyan-colored one from the air.

“Here, I’ll entertain your thirst for knowledge. That is the answer you seek from me, after all.” She continued cryptically. “That and you are well versed enough in the metropolis on my can to stand a chance of navigating the labyrinth that exists on the back of Five Pebbles. But here, let me show you something.”

---

Another soft whirring as the figure of Seeks Further Depths lowered itself almost to my eye line. Her metallic eyes closed as she released the pearl back into the air near her. A moment of silence, and then.

A familiar noise, like the one that came from my… instrument? So many new words for things, words that were desperately needed.

Its melody was quick, the tuning set about as high as it could go. Instinctively, I sat down and pulled my own mandolin from my back, tuning the makeshift knobs to match this new pitch.

Seeks Further Depths wasn’t made with a mouth per se, but in the back of my head, I could feel what could be construed as a small smile. It seemed she had planned for this as well…

---

I may have lost track of how much time I spent this cycle picking up the song being presented to me. By the time I had the tune mostly down, I could feel my stomach protesting my fascination taking over once more.

“Ah! My apologies. Sometimes I forget that your kind needs their own form of upkeep.” Depths gasped, floating down closer as the first sphere was cast aside for now. “You picked that up quite quickly. Perhaps there is more to you than just mere imitation?”

A moment of awkward observation, Depths idly twirling the other sphere with its violet hue as they chewed on a thought. Such a small piece of this incomprehensibly large machine, now equally hard to read due to its construction.

My discomfort almost got the better of me before Depths beat me to an interruption. “You don’t have a name, do you?”

My embarrassment was… obvious. Slugcat names were not simply given, but earned. It would make sense for our benefactor to have done enough research into the topic, language barrier be damned.

“If I may be so bold as to suggest one then?” Came a whisper in the back of my mind, the sparks easing from Depths as her thoughts commingled in my head. A recall looking confused at the suggestion. Didn’t she know names were only given by-?

“It’s not like you’ve anyone to give you one, as far as I can tell. I doubt any of your kind would step in to argue if I assisted in the matter.” She continued, her frame swinging around me slowly as the steel framework followed along the wall. That was true, wasn’t it?

Despite the odd nature of this proposal, I gave another small hop. It wasn’t like I would be given another chance. A nod from her frame in response, then a word was projected onto the screen behind her.

“Bard, that was what my creators called musicians such as yourself, wanderers between the cities. A tradition once lost, revived by one of the lesser creatures they sought to assist in moving beyond such frivolities.” She explained as I racked my brain to find the equivalent in my native language.

---

My attention was captured once more, as the violet sphere floated toward me from Depth’s outstretched palm. I secured the item with both paws, having expected it to be a bit heavier than it was.

“Instructions for my fellow Iterators when you meet them, try not to lose it if possible.” She explained before my form was seized once again. I rose up towards the second pipe, it seemed my time with Seeks Further Depths was nearing an end.

“I wish you safe travels, little one. Or should I say Bard now?” She said as we rose, the process ceasing as one of my paws grabbed the lip of the pipe. As I pulled myself into the passageway fully, there was one last piece of advice I had been given.

“Do try playing that sequence should you encounter a Salamander on the way. I think you’ll thoroughly enjoy the results…”

---

Ah! The cycle grows to a close again. I can feel the small trickle of raindrops on my back. Good, that means I’ve been making progress. I will try to gain some more distance before nightfall, and find the time to finish this extensive prelude come the next cycle.

To think so much has happened over the last few… I’ve barely enough time to process that I’ve been named.

Bard. I wish I knew more about its meaning. Perhaps this trip will give me a better bearing on the subject. For now, more paddling upriver.

Chapter Text

The end of the cycle draws near as I write. I’ve pulled the raft underneath a particularly large mangrove whose roots make for a tightly wound hostel for the night. I can hear the rain pattering on the woven tubers, fur damper than usual. It wasn’t easy finding this hiding spot.

I’ve been told by travelers that the god my colony has made its home on is an anomaly. Her rain is constant, but tolerable for the ones that live down below her. The rest of the gods have a near-cataclysmic   output that can last for the better part of the day which makes survival around them a bit of a conundrum.

There was a glimpse of my destination, through the reaching branches of the marsh I find myself in. A massive can, that one is. My layer of slime isn't as negligible as the rest of the company that lives on top of Depths, but ah… I may be doomed to be forever damp once I get close, among other things.

For now, the last of my attempts to catch up to the present. A strange issue to have, even if it can’t be helped.

---

My exit from Depths' chambers led to, well. A much larger chamber surrounded the smaller can that held Depths proper. Covered wall to wall in projections, flittering motes of light with twin tails sweeping this way and that from my position. I pulled myself out of the pipe I had exited, scaling a pole that was connected within arms reach, that weightless feeling flipping my stomach on its head again as I fought to keep from floating over my handhold, or losing the pearl for that matter.

I was out of my element, I had kept to the access shafts where my hold to the ground was still tenable, the chambers this close to Depths seemed completely void of that!

As I contemplated my options, there was a noise. Some scrambling from down below, the sound of someone kicking off of the wall followed by a hollering that echoed through the entire structure.

“WawaaaaaaaaaHOOOOOOOOOOO!!!”   Was what I heard from over the side, a flash of light blue and pink slamming into the far wall, before kicking off into a well-practiced spin. Cartwheeling end over end with an extra “Whoop!” somewhere before they caught the pole I was marooned to, momentum pulling them into a twirl before they wrapped their tails around the pipe to face me.

A Coastal Scug, a slick short coat of light blue fur made for aquatic traversal. His eyes shared the tinted sclera I had, colored pink instead of my yellow. His whiskers were instead a set of three large pink frills that flowed out from his cheeks, the subtle hint of a set of gills on his neck rounding out the adaptations of the residents that lived under Depths' superstructure.

“Heya Pink! Looks like I showed up just in time! Your chitty chat with Depths go well?” He chirped, shifting his position to float upside down while conversing in the meantime.

“Yes, actually. I assume you're the one to help see me to the base of the structure?” I replied, which drew a small giggle from the scug.

“Sure am! Most routes through here take a few cycles to get all the way down. But mine will get you there before the cycle is out, and be super cool while we're at it, scugs honor!” He boasted. Before I could get any further questions out, he slung one right back just as quickly. “You got a name, Pink? Or do I gotta keep to your fur color for now?”

Right! I ah, had a name now. It took me a moment to recall it, actually...

“Bard, you can call me Bard,” I recall saying, with some trepidation. It drew a curious look from my escort.

“Hah! That's like, A word.” He chittered, the meaning lost upon him. “Names Rivulet, fastest scug on the seas. Or river. Actually, any water will do, really.”

I began to worry as he lost that train of thought, but Rivulet idly twirled around the pole, almost out of boredom as he asked, “Soooo, you ready to go? Chit-chatting here is weak sauce with all of the kooky stuff to see on the way down! Store that pearl and let's dip!”

I gave a nod, before swallowing the pearl Depths had given me for safekeeping. And with that, we did as he suggested, and took off.

---

Well, to word it better. Rivulet took off, while I spent a few minutes flailing as I floated through the room at a sharp angle. It turns out that wildly flailing was not the solution to navigate the innards of the superstructure. My new blue companion had to coach me for a few minutes on the finer points. Here, weight was but a concept left at the entry pipe. So travel must be handled by kicking off the walls or poles in the direction desired, using momentum as our paddle.

The learning curve was still a bit steep. It wasn’t a matter of taking a direct route, but instead taking a series of crisscrossing flights between handholds. I hadn’t expected the journey to start on the deep end, but if I was expected to do this by myself with a different god's innards…

No better time than the present to learn.

Our pace was still slowed by my novice affinity for this region, Rivulet trying his best to provide pointers as we went while simultaneously occupying the extra time with flashier maneuvers. He was floating circles around me as I planned my next jump. No doubt others would find the incessant movement frustrating, but there was a certain spectacle to his moves that made flipping end over end almost natural looking to the scug.

There was plenty of room for him to work with as I struggled, our route took us around the chamber that held Depths, and down into a pipe that gave way to a wider access shaft, similarly filled with holograms. In each of the chambers were large red tendrils of wiring that connected wall to wall of each chamber. Another handhold to work with, but when holding one, it almost felt as if there was a pulse to it, like it was breathing.

The little lights we passed (Neurons, as told by Rivulet,) felt warm to the touch when they got close enough. Apparently, they were edible, with Rivulet saying they tasted tingly. He summarily warned against trying one though, as they were apparently vital to operations around here.

How much of this structure was made of metal, and how much of it was alive?

Our route flattened out after the second chamber, cardinals lost upon me as we moved through into a series of white chambers, filled with more red connections and Neurons shifting in a kaleidoscope of colors as they went about their business.

As we traversed the first empty room, a purple tendril popped out from the pipe across from us. Followed by, another, and another. A mass of neon purple tentacles connected to a core, pulling itself along the walls and tendrils of the space.

“Oh sweet! An Inspector.” Rivulet barked as he floated by, giving one of the tendrils a high five as he shot by. “These puppies protect the Neurons. Don’t grab any, and they're super chill!”

As helpful as Rivulet had been, I still kept my berth from the mass that was nearly three times my size. That didn’t stop one of its clawed hands from tapping me on my shoulder, throwing off my trajectory as a result. A few more minutes I wasn’t getting back the this oddly organized playground.

---

The rooms slowly lost their luster as we traveled, lights dimming due to a lack of processes occurring. A running theory at least. There was no telling what any of these rooms were meant for. The light show from the neurons only became more memorizing though. I recall bumping my head against a wall from the distraction.

What became apparent was a bit of graffiti in each room as we passed. Made to look like my escort through the system. Enlarged frills and misshapen eyes next to an arrow to our next passageway. Their creator flashed me a goofy grin after he caught me staring for the third time.

“How else do you think I remember my way through here? C'mon, we’re almost there!” He chirped once more, slipping headfirst into the pipe ahead of us. No time to question if Depths sanctioned any of this, I could feel the claws of drowsiness setting in as I followed suit.

The next room required a corner to be turned, the white light giving way to a sharp electrical blue, an open conduit practically radiating electric energy. Rivulet had to grab me by the tail to save me from getting cooked, suppressing a giggle as he said, “Hey hold up! We're here!”

When I had found my grip on the pole I was pulled to, I turned to see my escort waving both of his paws at… a hole in the wall?

A panel, pulled down from the top to expose a gap with the telltale spray of water vapor floating out into the chamber, the wall above marked with three arrows and Rivulets mug in kind. Direct access to Depth’s cooling pipes.

My apprehension was clearly obvious to my escort, his paws grabbing onto the pole once more as he opened his mouth. “This baby will take us allll the way down to the base of Depth’s leg. You just gotta hold your breath a few times while we're going, Easy!”

“Ah, how are you so sure?” I replied, which drew a sharp pshawww from Rivulet.

“Man, I’ve run this route with plenty of Alpine slugs like yourself. I’ve only had to resuscitate like… the first three that went with me!”

“And what does that entail, If I might ask?”

A pause, both of his paws coming together with an inquisitive look and a deep breath before he replied, “How much do you value the integrity of your ribcage again?”

I balked, obviously. “Quite a lot, actually!”

Rivulet's frustration was palpable. A pout that could rival a pup scrawled over his snout as he whined, “But this way is sooo much faster, and filled with less power conduits. Do you want to risk getting zapped, or do you want to get out of here?”

A pause, the thought of getting roasted was somehow more unappealing. Better to risk water in my lungs than a lethal shock.

“Fine, But you better save my tail if I drown.”

“Scugs honor!”

We shuffled closer to the panel before another thought struck me. My mandolin wasn’t very waterproof.

I could try to pull some of my slime from my fur, which did provide some water resistance. My coat produced little of the substance though. My escort, on the other hand...

“Hey, Rivulet?” I asked, pulling the instrument from my back as he turned once again.

“Yo?”

“Could you hold still for a second?”

“Sure, I gue- Ah that tickles!”   Yelped the coastal scug as I ran a paw through their slicked-back fur. Hastily coating the mandolin so we could leave. While I was of a dryer breed than usual, Rivulet had enough of this coating to spare.

Rivulet tapped the edge of the pulled panel with a paw as his patience ran thin once again. “You good?” he asked as I slung the instrument over my shoulder. I nodded, and barely remembered to hold my breath as the scug grabbed me by the arm and dove into the stream.

---

The next leg of the trip was… a blur, the rush of the water current as we were carried filling my ears as I held on for dear life. For most of the trip, I kept my eyes closed, only catching glimpses of the interior when we came up for air in the pockets that were available. Rivulet had no doubt spent more than enough cycles mapping the route out before my path collided with his. Each stop gives enough time to reapply another coat to my mandolin (despite Rivulet's protests,) as we dove further and further down.

The last segment cut things a little close, my lungs burning as I cracked my eyes open one more time, a light at the end of the physical and metaphorical tunnel as my grip on Rivulet loosened.

It’s hard to say when I felt that sorely missed pull toward the ground once again, but when we had cleared the last of the drainage pipe, I could undoubtedly feel myself falling, that tenuous grip from earlier had failed me spectacularly. I tumbled for two odd seconds before I crashed into the water below.

One last dip to mark the end of this mess, but I was finally in control of my direction of travel. Such a low bar to clear.

Up took a moment to figure out. But I broke through the surface of the water and took in a deep breath, coughing as a few drops of rain managed to sneak in as well. The area around Depth’s legs was covered in an endless storm, pelting rain only stymied by the sea washing away any excess flooding.

At least there was no lightning, It was always the little things.

Riding the top of a wave, I was able to see the wooden structures built against the nearest leg we had just burst out of, moss lanterns the only visible specks of light this late in the evening.

I flinched as I felt something graze my leg. Before the panic set in, Rivulet's frilled face burst through the waterline with a slag-eating grin as he offered a paw once more.

“Grab on man! Let's get you warmed up!”

---

I wish I could say I had spent more time with the Coastal scug populace of Depth’s can before leaving, but I was wiped from the events of the day. So much to take in, in such a short time. The locals had supplied a raft for my journey and pointed me in the right direction come next morning. I had meant to thank Rivulet for the assistance, but he had already left by the time I awoke. The common consensus was that nothing could keep them still for long from anyone I had asked. 

I do recall retrieving the pearl from my stomach and giving it a once-over. How Depths was able to access the contents escaped me. But if this could store her thoughts, why couldn’t it store my thoughts as well?

I suppose I’ve been doing something right. The speck of pink continues to grow, I’d assume Depth's message would come before my memoir, but after that? Whatever I put in here with the Mark…

Would the god I'm traveling to be interested in the musings of a creature like me?

The night grows long, and I can feel the need to sleep taking my strength. But I'm caught up, mostly. The raft from the Coastal colony has been serving well, I should clear the mangroves by the next cycle surely.

For now, rest. Well deserved rest.

Chapter Text

I must confess, I’m having a hard time deciding where exactly to start this entry.

Having caught up with myself isn't to blame, that I know. If anything, the details are much more fresh in my memory. The contents of those memories are a bit fraught, however.

Were it not for a timely rescue, I would have likely perished. And not but an hour afterward I now find myself sharing a shelter with the troupe my rescuer is leading for the cycle. Having a moment to just sit down and think?

Well, it's all a bit jarring, really. Maybe putting my thoughts down will help sort this mild unease out, at least for the moment.

---

The last few cycles of scribing have seen my route become clearer. I had long since passed the river delta and the familiar mangroves, trading out the dangerous carnivorous vines that hang from their branches for whatever calls the winding river I now find myself it's home.

Attempts to find clams have been stymied for the most part by the growing prevalence of leeches, The bane of any Coastal scug. I’ve been told by a few before I had left that the red variety was the least dangerous, but that they’ll stick onto anything within reach if given the chance.

A few cycles before my own life was in peril, I had the misfortune of watching a Noodlefly that had erred too close to the water's surface get pounced by a cadre of them as it was dragged under the water.

It didn’t resurface.

So my options for food have shrunken recently. Just last cycle, I had gotten lucky and found a small bushel of what the Coastal scugs call ‘Bubble Fruit.’ a common delicacy not usually traded up to the top of Depth's can, as they require water to become edible. A hard shell keeps the seeds protected otherwise.

They’re a bit crunchy but serviceable. More importantly, they save me the trouble of having to beach the raft for any extra foraging. The trees beyond grew wild and unbound, funneling travel into distinct paths under their deep red leaves. The last one I traveled did lead to some blue pupas hanging from some vines that were familiar to me, as they were a common sight back home. But something skittering in the canopy gave me enough of a reason to retreat to the raft after I had gotten my fill.

All things considered, I had been doing well avoiding predators up until this point. What Salamanders I had the misfortune of passing had been hitherto occupied with other prey, usually snaring an unlucky fish with their tongue. There had been a swarm of batflies I had considered paddling through for some meat in my diet, but an errant tongue from the water snatching one out of the air dashed those hopes quickly enough.

They had a run of the place on this leg of the stream, It was inevitable that one would try to have me as a lunch, really.

---

The raft is only twice my size in its length, with a little less than that in width. Made of errant driftwood and tied together with wiring, it served its purpose well, even if it wasn’t exactly a solid seal in some places.

So when something had rammed into its side to try and throw me off midday this cycle, I certainly felt the impact. I left my spot at the rear for paddling and scrambled to the center of the craft, spear raised and ready.

Not that it helped much, the tongue latched onto my chest as the beast rose from the water, tipping the craft as it pulled its torso on. Its hide was pale, with red gills replacing a lizard's usual crest. A textbook Salamander, wanting to make me its next lunch.

My spear toss was weak, bouncing off of its armored forehead as I was dragged, the front of the raft sinking under as I was reeled in. Reflexively, I pulled my mandolin to my side to avoid it scraping the raft, Kicking my legs out as I was dragged in an attempt to scramble away.

Color me surprised when both of my hind paws found purchase on scales.

Its jaws were fully extended, but from that position I braced. Locking the both of us in a stalemate, what good is a sticky tongue If you couldn’t fully reel your prey in?

Not for lack of trying, of course, its reeling pulling my chest down to face its beady eyes as I tried to break the stalemate with raw force.

With no time to waste, I pulled the mandolin close to my chest, needing a moment to remember the sequence I had been taught by Depth’s prior. It was just as well I hadn’t felt the need to re-tune the thing while on the move! I hastily strummed the first few notes, botching the first attempt as the Salamander thrashed to the left to throw my balance off, the gall of this thing!

The second attempt saw me finish the five-note sequence, four rising notes into a sharp fall into a low note. It was barely audible from that thrashing and nowhere near perfect, and yet…

The tongue let go, the beast's eyes rolling back in fear as it flipped the raft I had braced my back against. My own vision spiraled as I fell into the river.

---

I resurfaced right afterward, treading water that I had hitherto avoided until now. I suppose the song did its job, scaring off the salamander. As to the how and why, that could wait for when I was safe. This particular stretch of the stream was quite wide, the raft was nowhere to be seen. And with the Salamander gone…

Something latched onto my leg and began to try and pull me under, Leeches.

I began furiously paddling towards the closest shore, feeling more of them begin to clamp down, slowing what little progress I had made. A single leech was of little issue, but a swarm of them could pull something much larger than themselves under. It became a fight to keep myself above the waves, muscles screaming in protest as I tried to keep momentum whilst fighting to keep my head above the waves.

My heart was racing, and my progress getting slower and slower. The shore felt so far away, with more bites along my waist and legs. As I felt the last of my strength fading, a voice cut through the errant splashing. A call from above, “Hang on!”

I managed to steal a glance, a tan Slugcat and quite a large one at that! He had climbed out onto a particularly young-looking tree hanging over the side of the river, using his weight to bend one of the branches over the water. “Grab my paw!” he shouted over the struggling as he shimmied to the edge of the perch.

I recall grabbing on as my head went under the water for a moment, before being hauled up and out through the sheer willpower of my rescuer.

For a moment I was left to dangle, more than a little woozy as the Leeches tried to suck what blood they could. One by one though they began to drop off as my rescuer began to shimmy back towards the shore, The need for water taking precedence over a meal for them. I could hear my rescuer begin to huff and puff as his attempt dragged on. His grip on my paw slipped as we reached the last leg before the side of the bank.

Our descent down to the solid ground was less than graceful. The wind was knocked out of me as I impacted, with a loud thud to my left as the larger scug found the bank too.

More than a few moments were spent catching our breath. Somehow I was the first up, mostly to shake off the last few leeches that were bolder than their peers, shriveling up and expiring on the banks without any water. Good riddance.

With the imminent threat on my life handled, I was able to get a better look at the scug that rescued me. An Arboreal scug, a rare sight in the colony due to their nomadic lifestyle.

I didn’t recall them getting this big though. This one must have quite the appetite, or muscle. Or maybe both? Not every scug could pull out another alongside six or so leeches from a river. 

I found a seat across from his splayed form as he finally caught his breath, panting giving way to a chuckle, then full-on laughter as he rose up from laying on his belly.

“My word, that could not have been closer!” he managed to get out as his laughter settled. “It’s not every day I have to pull an… Alpine scug out of the water. Are you okay lad? Can you still walk?”

“Ah, yeah… Thank you, I don't think many would have gone that far to help.” I replied, the larger scug waving off the inherent danger of what he had just done.

“Think nothing of it! Our kind works better together after all.” He chirped, “What’s a scug like yourself doing rowing by themself anyway? This next leg of the river is particularly fraught after all.”

“It’s… complicated,” Was all I had on offer, not every Arboreal scug knew what a being like Depth’s even was. Shame he felt the need to prove me wrong there

“An errand for one of the metal gods, if I were to guess?” he mused, no doubt entertained by my shocked expression soon after.

“Wait, how do y-.”

“I’ve been all over these lands, friend. And seen much along the way.” He mused, before letting a sigh escape his snout. “Still though, I wish they wouldn’t send only one scug on their duties. The lands between them are not as forgiving as they would think...”

A pause as his words sunk in. That was true, but I was to meet another at my destination right?

Before I had time to really chew on that, my savior had gotten to his feet and piped up once more, reaching out with his paw. “Tell you what, how about you spend the night with the troop I’m leading? We should have enough food to keep you for the night and see you off to wherever you're headed. Sound like a plan?”

I didn’t hesitate, giving a nod as I took that paw once more under less strenuous circumstances. My savior pulled me up to my feet, the strong grip belaying some strength under his larger stature.

“Thank you, do you have a name by any chance?” I asked before he got the chance to turn, a small grin forming on his muzzle before he responded.

“Gourmand, a pleasure to meet you, my friend!” he said, before motioning to the path away from the river, “Now then, let’s be off. It won't be long before the sky starts throwing a fit, after all.”

---

The trek to Gourmand's camp was quick, despite the terrain. Apparently, the place he had led his troop to was a frequent stop in his endeavors. He apparently fancied himself as a guide to less experienced groups, having left his tribe's usual route to seek the secrets of the world.

Well, the ones involving food, anyway. It surely explained the name when he admitted as such, and a small detour only proved that true anyway. Not far from the river, Gourmand had stashed quite the supply of blue pods and bubble fruit for a dish he had been planning for this evening. He had heard my scuffle with the Salamander while he was grabbing the last of his stashes, so our next destination was naturally the camp.

And my, what a place they had chosen to set up for the cycle.

A large tree, whose trunk could easily house more than a few dens or a tribe of slugs mid-migration. Between its roots were a few pools of clear water. Something vaguely mint green below the surface, emitting a light matching the color which danced across the outstretched roots of the tree. A canopy of purple leaves listed aimlessly above the entry to a hollow into the trunk itself, and above that.

The tallest branches wrapped around each other, almost like an arm outstretched. Its fingers curled upward to cradle something that was producing a light too bright to see exactly what was the source. Perhaps a fruit of some sort?

The rest of Gourmand’s troop was milling about. Some enjoyed the calm waters around the tree, while a few others were hauling what looked to be a Centipede two times my size into the hollow itself. A total of nine scugs followed Gourmand's lead, with the majority of them visible as we turned the corner into this clearing.

If only I had more time to gawk, alas. A drop of rain from on high landed right on my nose, which saw me fight back a sneeze while still holding the bushel of pods gathered earlier.

A chuckle from Gourmand preceded his next few words. “Well, a hint for us to head inside, no?”

I didn’t object in the slightest, the rain beginning to come down as we headed to the entrance.

---

The interior of the tree was as cozy as advertised from the exterior, with smaller nooks for individual sleeping spaces attached to a central area of mostly even roots. At the center was a small divot with some soil exposed. Practically made for a fire pit, and promptly used as such, with some stones set aside for whatever Gourmand had planned for food this cycle.

The walls arched upward into a dome shape, a few perforations allowing smoke from the fire below to escape without compromising the space’s protection from the rain. Across the edifice was a multitude of carvings, some depicting slugcats in various forms doing various tasks. Fighting off predators, collecting food, and banding together into groups. Some of the carvings were more abstract in nature, and a few were simply lines of symbols, much like the ones up on Depth’s can.

A jab at my side from Gourmand’s elbow shook me from my stupor.

“Well, it seems you haven’t seen one of these before, by that look of yours.” he chuckled, I gave a nod as he pointed to a good place to drop our collected pupa sacs, before leading me to a blank section of the wall. Someone else had left a few sharpened stones along here, with Gourmand picking one up and handing it off to me.

“Here, a tree like this is the perfect place to leave your mark. Who knows when you’ll be by again, right?” he explained, a reassuring pat on the back as he stepped back to give me some space. But the question of what to leave behind felt like it needed a bit more thought…

I glanced at one of the lines of symbols on the wall. Staring for a moment before something clicked for me.

Back in Depth’s can, the symbols on the wall before I left.

I hastily began, a rush as I clung to that memory, to scribe it for those who would stay here after me to see. My scribbling wasn’t perfect, but it didn’t matter.

When I stepped back, the symbols had been put to the wall as best as I could remember; Gourmand padded up as he gave the piece a once over, scratching at his chin while doing so.

“I see, Ancient script; Quite the bold choice. What does it mean?” He asked, equally as unfamiliar with the specifics of the script. That didn’t stop me from responding.

“M-my name. Bard. At least I think so.” I recall stammering, Gourmand turning his gaze back over to me before giving a nod.

“An excellent choice then, my friend. Now, let me introduce you to the others. I'm sure they’ll have a few questions for you after all.” He offered, guiding me away from the wall and to the others.

---

I suppose he could tell how dead tired I was after the first few scugs I was introduced to, letting me recoup by the warmth of the flames as he prepared the upcoming meal. It’s given me enough time to put my thoughts into the pearl once more, even if I’ve garnered some strange looks from the company I now keep inside this tree. I’ll have to explain what I’m doing as we sup tonight.

I wonder if the contents within this pearl can be shared with others like me? Only the gods can access the contents of these pearls, insofar as I’ve gathered. Most of our history is told, not written down save for the scribblings that now line the walls of the chamber I find myself in.

Maybe that’s the next step after this expedition has concluded. In the meantime, I can feel my mind wandering, whatever my host is concocting has quite the aroma. An update to come with the specifics of this meal afterward.

Chapter Text

Depths… I may never taste anything more divine than that meal!

I had been curious and watched my generous host prepare. Cuts of the Centipede laid out in thick strips of meat, slathered with the sweet juice of the blue pupa.

The bubble fruit was ground down after being dunked into the pool outside to shear the exterior. The sticky coating holds the ground seeds in place, before being left to roast on the hot stones next to the fire.

Ah, how do I describe the taste? Sweet, but with a particular texture from the breading of the bubble fruit seeds. No fuss over biting through the chitin of a centipede to get at the muscles inside.

I'll need to remember the process for myself when I return, perhaps with a juvenile centipede instead as the source of the meat. My hunting skills are…lackluster, to say the least.

Regardless. The meal was delicious, and enough was prepared for the whole party that followed Gourmand. Things were looking up as the rain began to fall outside the tree.

Had it only stayed that way, nothing but a hiccup in the grand scheme of things, but still…

---

It was late into the night, with Gourmand’s entourage asking more than a few questions that I was obligated to answer as we sat around the fire. I recounted some of the events I’ve written to the best of my ability (A few sequences of travel will do things to one's memory. It’s not like I can read over my work currently either.)

Funnily enough, our routes had intersected. They had just come from the region I was bound toward and were en route to Depth’s can! I talked for a while about the two colonies that made their home there. The Coastal slugs on the leg are still jovial despite the constant rain, and the Alpine slugs tirelessly work to maintain the city above the clouds where they could. I had most of their attention when describing the view above the clouds. Of a sun that was never blocked by the torrents that claim the skyline from the ground.

It was nice to be the center of attention for a while, but terrifying in equal measure. I glanced over at Gourmand, who’d only interjected as we were conversing about my rescue.

Nothing but reassuring nods to show I was doing this right, wonderful…

Eventually, the question of my mandolin came up, and I naturally swung it back off of my shoulder to explain. Plucking at a few of the strings as an example, the ring of scugs' ears perked up as the note hung in the air.

A second glance over at Gourmand, with nothing but a grin he was trying to hide from the rest of the circle. Clearly, this wasn’t the first time he’d crossed paths with someone with my skill set. Most of his entourage, however? This was their first time hearing something tuned for their ears.

Funny, I never expected an audience out here. I should have been intimidated. But something felt right, for some reason, even if I couldn't put my paw on it.

With nothing but the cracking of the fire and the downpour beating down outside, I began to play the song Depths had passed along to me. Its pace and pitch may have been a little too fast for the soothing atmosphere, but it required some deft fingers to play without fumbling the notes.

The next few minutes were spent in this exchange. The attention of the ring of scugs on me as I worked my way through the composition, the peaks and troughs of the melody imitating a long journey across the mountains. A pause at the journey's end, and then.

A flurry of frantic notes, of a struggle. Like the one on the river, and then at the climax?

The sequence of notes that scared the Salamander away, the slaying of a foul beast. A few spare notes to see the song to rest, and a realization.

This was a song that could stand on its own, but also it held another purpose. To ward off lizards. That wasn’t a fluke, that part of the composition was meant to function as such.

Dual purpose, like most of the creations of the ones that came before us.

The sound of the ring of scugs applauding drew me back. Oh right, I wasn't alone. Whoops!

I gave a few thank you’s as the air wound down again. The group splintered back into hushed conversations around the fire as I contemplated doing what I usually did, letting the strings take me somewhere to fill the air.

But out of the corner of my saw, a small mint green figure approached my side. A slugpup, the only one in this traveling party, as far as I was aware. I hadn’t seen this one around much, strange.

They gave a tilt of their head as they got close, and sat down on their hinds, a curious look in their large eyes. Seem’s my work had attracted their attention too.

I reached out to give them a little pat on the head, content to improvise for them, much like at home with the nursery, but alas.

A sharp “ HISSSSS!” cut through the air, extinguishing the mood as all eyes turned to one of the nooks close to the ground.

A pair of Scugs curled around one another, one raising their head to issue the command for their child to return. The pup spared a glance back at me, before scampering back to its parents and returning to the center of the circle.

The rest of the party returned to their conversations, with a notable discomfort that could be felt across the room. The fur on the back of my neck had to settle, but the parents of this pup didn’t move, instead curling tighter in their space.

One more glance at Gourmand as I slipped the mandolin back over my shoulder. He was watching the family as well, his concern palpable as we locked eyes. A nod my way, before he rose to take a nook of his own.

There was more to this, for sure. For now, I will only be offered sleep instead of answers. Hard for me to complain.

---

Gourmand had woken me tonight. Seemed like I was going to be getting answers after all. 

A beige paw on my shoulder was what brought me back to the waking world, a discerning look from the larger scug greeting me from my slumber. “Follow me, if you would,” he asked, before turning toward a high-up nook that no one in the party had claimed. I scrambled up and lo, a small path upward, hidden out of view!

It spiraled with the branches of the tree, grown in a manner to encourage travel into the upper canopy. When we breached the cluster of leaves and branches now free from the path, we found ourselves under that glowing sphere that topped our shelter. The glare made it impossible to identify just what it was, but it cut through the night well enough, only slightly shorter than the forest it had rooted itself into. A beacon casting as best it could into an unforgiving land.

Gourmand had walked past me as I took in the view, his own gaze cast upward over the treetops, the metal structure of the surviving can looming over the landscape off in the distance. Every cycle I spent on my pilgrimage seeing it grow exponentially, a revenant surrounded by a ring of clouds that now provided the downpour around us.

A glance down revealed the forest floor to be flooded, water cutting past the roots towards the rover, no doubt flooding the stream in the process. If it was this unnavigable now…

“Are you sure about your path, Bard?” Gourmand asked, cutting through the white noise of the torrent just beyond us, the sphere above giving us enough cover to stay dry.

“Y-yes, of course!” I recall saying. “It’s what I’ve been tasked by Depth’s, How could I stop now?”

No response, at least not right away. His paw rested on a branch that encircled the space, like a railing. There was a sigh before his gaze broke from the can, and turned back towards me.

“Might I ask a favor? I’ve some advice for you if you intend on going alone as payment.”

I sidled up beside him, resting my arms over the branch as he spoke. “Sure, what do you need?”

“The mated pair from earlier tonight, that wasn’t their only pup.” He began, “There were two others with them. only a few rotations into adulthood. They were lost the last sequence to the rain.”

“Oh… I see.” Was all I could say. Little wonder then as to why they would be defensive of their last child.

Gourmand continued. “It was a foraging trip the family took together, they underestimated how long they had before it arrived. There's little time to work with when close to one of the gods. this one is no different.”

“Their eldest had slipped when they were crossing a gap. Into one of the drainage pipes that funnel excess water back under the retaining walls. Their middle child, Monk, jumped in after her sibling soon after.”

“She had a name already?” I asked, a little dumbfounded that a scug so young could happen upon their name so early.

“Yes, was quite good with handling the wildlife. Quite the prodigy. Scared her parents half to death when they found she had become friends with a lizard as a pup.” Gourmand explained. “That’s why I need to ask you this favor. Use the drainage system they were swept up in. Follow their trail. I’ve no doubt Monk can hold her own for a few sequences, a little longer if she can find her brother. But…”

His gaze turned back to the god looming in the skyline. “The deity trapped in that can isn’t fond of interlopers. I know that from experience, the lands beyond that retaining wall are some of the most hostile I’ve ever had to travel. For your sake, and theirs, I hope you find them once you are inside.”

Ah, I recall a small cough escaping me. It was beginning to feel like I was being sent to my death for this mission. The danger being obfuscated with well wishes from Depths.

“What about after I find them? You have nine other scugs to guide.” I asked.

“I intend to see that through. Once this party is secured at Depth’s premises, I will make my return.” Gourmand explained, pointing off in the distance under the legs of the can.

A single light, similar to the one we stood under, barely cut through the haze of the rain.

“I’ll be staying at the last shelter we used before we lost them. Use that for the cycle on the way in, and make your way there with them once your task is complete. I’ll meet you there in due time.”

I nodded. It would take me a while to get everything sorted. Gourmand would have plenty of time to get back. While his palette was no doubt a bit more demanding, A single scug living out of one of these trees could subsist for a while.

“Thank you Gourm, I’ll find them. Or they might find me? I suppose it depends on how badly I stumble into this?” I replied, drawing Gourmand's attention.

“You’ve come this far, yes? And you’ve no signs of stopping.” He said, “If I had to choose a lifeline for these two, I couldn’t do much better than choosing you, Bard.”

I exhaled as I pulled away from the branch, a nod as the weight of what I was being asked made itself known. “Thank you, I… I won’t let you down. Promise.”

---

So, here I sit. With not one, but two tasks foisted upon me. With quite a lot of overlap, at least. Still…

So much on the line, with two other scug’s lives in my paws. With my first task possibly putting them in harm's way as well? Perhaps I could ask them to stay put while I handle my tasks?

But with how dangerous the lands ahead are supposed to be, someone with Monk’s talents would not go unnoticed. With the scug the other god is sending? That would make for quite the team, perhaps.

The pilgrimage continues to unravel into something beyond me, it seems. The rain refuses to let up outside. Best I sleep on the matter, instead of staying up fretting about what could happen next.