FSE

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"Strange thing, aren't you?"

I recoil at the words, the frigid breath on which they ride permeating my fur and skin. I reach out to shove the speaker away, and my aura flares up like an invisible bubble of unrestrained panic, as it comes into contact with them. I should be able to detect auras within a pretty good radius, but I can only sense my visitor when I'm in contact with it.

Physically touching it seems to have done something, as it produces a ball of light in its hand. It strikes me as odd, because it clearly could detect me without it, but as it fully materializes, I find the light to be the least strange thing about it.

At first glance, it's a plush doll, at least as tall as I am. But its movements are too rigid for that; the soft exterior must be sewn on around a frame. The gray fur, decorated with ornate black markings, is expertly crafted; if it gave off any sort of heat I may have mistaken it for another Xeeok like me, though this one appears to be a kangaroo; a thick-tailed marsupial, an odd animal to see on Paliputra. The more I look at him, studying his details and watching him move, the more unsettling it becomes.

I decide I'm having none of this, and I move to reach for my unfinished weapon, but find it missing. The kangaroo takes his hand out from behind its back, revealing the weapon is in his possession now. With a sort of quickness one might expect from a cockroach, he dashes for me, brandishing the wooden thing in position for a stroke to the head. I stifle a scream as I try to dive out of the way, losing my footing and landing in a heap of myself on the floor.

The kangaroo tilts his head, and exhales four words again through his sewn-shut mouth. "Scared thing, aren't you?"

As I begin to pick myself up, my weapon clatters to the floor, and the doll steps back.

"Only a test. I promise."

I slowly move for the club again, and I am not stopped. Grasping it tightly, I stand up, a fair distance away from the doll. Not that it will help; there's not a chance in the Void that I'll forget what sort of reflexes he has.

"What do you want from me?" I manage, taking care not to stammer.

"We can help each other," the kangaroo says. There is a long pause, and the sound of a cassette being wound. "I came to this island." Another pause, and the sound of winding. "The storm brought you ruin." Pause. "The storm cast you adrift." Pause. "So I brought you here." Pause. "I want off the island." Pause. "You want off the island." Pause. "But I need someone strong." Pause. "And you'd like strength." Pause. "I think we should collaborate."

"How did you bring me here?" I demand.

"I waited. I saw you." Pause. "Guided you on the waves." Pause. "I know you are compatible." Pause. "For the Gift. You have..." This pause is longer than the others. I almost speak, but then he resumes. "...The right heart for it."

>>>>>>>>>

My captor pulls me from her mouth again, this time sitting me in the palm of her hand.

"He's awfully cryptic, isn't he?" she asks.

"Oh, unbearably so," I agree, maybe a little too quickly. But I think she can tell there's something I don't want to say. I already cut it close when I relayed the kangaroo's last set of five words.

"Do you have any idea what made you compatible with the 'Gift'?" she presses.

"Not a clue," I lie. "Maybe I just seemed determined?"

My captor shrugs, flexing the claws of her other hand. "Perhaps. I take it you accepted this Gift?"

"Yeah. That's how I ended up with these," I say, fanning out my nine tails. "Among other things. Still technically not a Reaper though," I add on quickly.

"Right, right." She really doesn't seem to care anymore. Even if I was here to kill her, we've already demonstrated that I would fail. "Anyway, continue. I wanna know how it went down."

Within the span of a few seconds, I find myself sealed in that cage of teeth once more. If I want to stay out of it for good, I need to keep telling my story.

>>>>>>>>>

"Go on."

The kangaroo doll steps closer, leaving his ball of light to float, and holding his hands in front of himself defensively. "Do you know of Reapers?"

"Agents of two gods of different stars. If they can agree on what threatens them mutually, they'll lend their power to mortals and send them in to deal with it."

"Correct. I have a thought..." he trails. "What if gods were unnecessary?" Pause. "If that power was permanent?"

"Are you implying what I think you're implying?" I ask. My discomfort grows with each passing second.

"The nature of the Gift. It will not serve most. The right foundation is needed. Power, to even begin with. I know you have it." Before he even says it, I know what's coming. "The right heart for it."

"How so? What makes me viable?"

"We need gods for stars. You match a star already."

I nod in understanding. "But what will this accomplish? Getting Reaper powers won't get me off the island."

"It will because I will. There is a vessel here. Humor me, with this process. Then we will leave together."

I hesitate at first, but there's really no reason. A little bit of extra magical power sounds good to me. "If that's your condition, then I accept."

It's not that I trust the doll, but I have a feeling I'm doing this whether or not I accept.

The kangaroo gestures at the door with his muzzle. I turn slowly to it as he walks past me with his orb, beckoning me to follow. Part of me wants to run for it. A very, very large part of me wants to run for it. But the curious side of me wants to go, and I'm uncertain as to which side knows best.

Bearing in mind that my new acquaintance could very easily kill me if I resist, both sides of me come to an agreement and take turns putting my legs in motion to follow.

As I pass the threshold of the door, he gestures again, causing it to slam shut and latch behind us, leaving nowhere to go but onward and downward. I shudder to think of the implications of that; it didn't matter at all that it had been locked from my side. The kangaroo is proficient in more than just one star of magic; something that few living things can claim. Then again, he isn't quite what most people would readily refer to as a living thing.

At this point, I'm growing tired of thinking of him as nothing beyond "the doll" or "the kangaroo".

"Do you have a name?" I ask.

"My maker called me Suraokh. So I call me Suraokh."

"Never heard that one before. What language is it from?"

"My maker has no language. 'Suraokh' is a mouth sound."

"...Okay then."

"You also have a name. Tell me what it is."

"Merion," I answer, taken a little off guard by the command.

Suraokh stops walking for a second, his whole body going stiff. "Catalogued. I will remember Merion." And then, as if nothing had happened, he starts to walk again.

I stop too, stunned by the constant weirdness of this construct. I quickly shake it off and catch up, walking almost directly next to him. In about a minute of walking, he stops again, sweeping his left arm to the side, opening the door in front of us.

He steps to the side, allowing me to proceed first. I barely make it through before I stop again, staring in disbelief. What I see on the other side of the doorway defies all explanation.

Light pours down from a rippling mass like the liquid sun, but the color is indescribable. A lattice of a kind of stone I've never seen before supports it at the top of the cylindrical chamber, at the bottom of which sits an altar. An unfortunately thin spiral ramp grants access down.

"Approach and receive the Gift," Suraokh prompts. "Then we will get going."

"But wait, what is this?" I ask.

"It is like a well," the kangaroo explains. "A well of divine power. I know where all are. On all worlds, they exist."

"Why haven't I heard of these before?"

"You probably have heard before. But not much is known. But it is entirely safe. I can promise you that. I do promise you that."

"And... what will it do to me?"

"It will give you help. A Gift, I call it."

There's a lot more I'd like to ask, but Suraokh doesn't seem the type to elaborate on things in terms that anyone but himself could fully grasp. I begin to make my way down, sliding down the slope of the pit and stopping myself each time my feet find the ramp again. Up close to the altar, it's really quite plain; a simple raised hexagon with nary a mark on it. Suraokh follows me down, taking his place in a faintly-engraved circle in the floor. He nods to me, and then I step onto the platform and look up. The globe of light leads me to wonder if it's anything like the oceans on other worlds; pure and clean, full of sunlight and vigor. There's something humbling about it.

"How is your pain tolerance?" he asks.

He lifts his arms towards the light before I can tell him that, as a zombie, I've grown pretty numb to it. The globe starts to fluctuate with even greater intensity; enough even to slip through the lattice and rain down on me. I instinctively want to run from it, but my body will not move.

The last thing that I am aware of before I black out is that my pain tolerance really is nowhere near as strong as I once believed it was. My skin fizzes. My spine frays and splits. My augmentations suck away from and reattach to my bones. My eyes burn. My skull feels like it is going to pop. The pain is all I know, and then I know nothing more.