"Undine finds themselves within a lake surrounded by verdant greenery, overseen by a strange audience…"
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Info
Tale: The Climb
Author:Doctor Zurvan
Image: Art created by ECHTOON
Motionless they sat upon the water bank…
Undine stirred, his eyes greeted by a gleaming, verdant sight. He allowed himself to drift within the pool of water he found himself in - how he had arrived ticked over in the back of his mind. The steps from wandering the halls of his spacecraft to wasting about in the water were clearer than fog. The air itself was potent with a troubling sense of forebode and a distasteful, overtly metaphorical sting. He’d object to a moral right now. Least of all when he had been in the middle of something.
The air tasted similar to Larkan much to his chagrin. Oh to be young again, but free of youth's ego. His body may be rejuvenated now, but his mind was worn-down to the figurative eraser. Another breath elevated his concerns, the air's aroma suggesting a baser realm, although it remained unconfirmed.
For now he considered what was presently above him.
His mismatched eyes, one of which was bulbus and purple, peered down to the two figures leering down upon him. Motionless they sat upon the water bank, a rocky, slimy structure a good metre above the waterline. The forms before Undine were human-shaped, but even a human could distinguish a real person from a meagre silhouette. Why they wore human shapes in Undine’s presence, who too wore a human shape and with his true in-human form known by the spectators, was another thought left for the fog. The mental cogs privately turned.
The androgynous figure to the right of Undine seemed gorgonic in nature, its head large and bulbous with wild green hair; it greatly resembled a human neuron with a set of leering green eyes. Its toga was green too, but its flesh was a silvery grey. Only its head was facing towards Undine, literally motionless in its regard of him, for its body was occupied leftwards cradling a large pithos.
Undine continued to examine the figure as he straightened himself within the water. It became clear, by his own instinctual recognition, that the figure in green was Pain. Oh how plain it was now, its earthy green colours melded with the flora.
He abstained from his examination realising that their eyes held for too long and regarded the figure to his left. She needed no introduction, perhaps due to his own adept fortune to avoid her. Skin the colour of moonlight, with hair the same black of her robe such that it formed a shroud of darkness around her. Undine felt prophetic, situated, ironically, aneath her. But he wasn’t down yet. He was certain he’d be the first to know.
Undine swam effortlessly towards the shore bank and reached out in preparation to climb, only to meet Pain’s hand reaching out towards him. He glared at it. Whether Pain was being kind or not, pressing his flesh against its personified unpleasantries was illogical. It would be like challenging the woman beside Pain to a game of chess, or cards, or however it was in the stories they tell.
“I do not require your assistance.”
Pain could only have been mocking as it withdrew its hand. The world lurched suddenly downwards, the shoreline rising drastically. Undine could see the duo slowly rise, their expression unchanging, far above him and the rest of ‘it.’ The shoreline vanished into a blanket of thick clouds above him. The small lake was now a well, so comically steep Undine would laugh if he had the disposition. Or the company. Now would be time for a sarcastic comment, but without a witness Undine might as well be witless. A stupid who’d piqued the interest of a primordial, protective force of reality. Stupid.
Undine decided to at least try the obvious, despite the obvious answer. He dove beneath the water. It was only four metres deep, with no exit nor fish or seaweed to eat. Just air or water to breathe via a mouth too big for his own good. He imagined summoning a mermaid to his aid, as they can swim to any body of water, but figured that would be prevented by his cosmic audience.
The trial was comically obvious, such that Undine didn’t dignify a retort as he began the climb, slowly at first. He winced as he slipped slightly, already scraping the sole of one of his bare feet. More carefully he raised one hand above his head, then his foot and then upwards. Rinse and repeat. Another struggle here, another near fall there, it was a trudge to the top.
The rockface provided enough purchase that the journey was stable, although any error would've been steep. Undine paused to examine his journey, finding the past hour left much to be desired. He continued up and up. He calculated, judging at the speed in which the shoreline rose and the time until it stopped, that he ought to have climbed at least a quarter of the way. The view down seemed to suggest such a distance had been traversed, yet the horizon above was unchanged.
The air didn't reek of any trans-dimensional foolery, but his audience were far above such comparatively simple affairs. Even Undine’s kind would regard such meddling infantilising. Upwards was the only option.
His journey managed to shake the vagueness in between his spacecraft and his being here. He was walking, yes that's correct, towards the flight controls. He paused, reflecting on what direction to go in, strumming the various dials and levers. For what location was most integral for the Foundation? A viewscreen suddenly signalled Undine’s attention, its display highlighting a nonsensical readout. The information was overwhelming, but with care he curated it into a comprehensible shape.
“Illogical,” He said to his companion.
The space-craft beeped, defensibly. Don’t shoot the messenger, as the humans say. What happened next? Oh, that was right. The walls shuddered; Undine’s mind ached as his dear celestial steed wailed. The readings buzzed and burbled wickedly, the lights flickering and the controls sparking. Suddenly there was an awful flash of light, followed by complete darkness.
Undine was on the floor. Smoke filled the flightdeck. A single rebreather dispensed itself directly above where Undine crawled to whilst escaping the flaming controls. He attached it and took deep breaths. The emergency lights had at some point activated. With enough oxygen, Undine hoisted himself up and towards the doors of his cosmic Throne. They automatically opened and then what came after was still unknown.
All that came next was Undine paddling in a pool of water watched over two eternal powers. In hindsight, they likely collided with some rogue space-time anomaly, but he supposed one didn’t just fall upon Pain’s doorstep.
He paused for breath, pressing hard against the rockface. Steady. He adjusted his brutalised feet, taking deep and sharp breaths as his bloody limbs shifted against the rocks. His fingers were blistered too. It was as if the rockface was coated with many, microscopic razor blades. He peered closer to the rock to confirm his suspicions, squinting accusatively. His analysis was inconclusive, but never had a climb brutalised him so.
Undine managed to shift himself further up, the end no closer than it had before with solid ground all too far below. Could he even see the ground if he tried? Suddenly he wobbled, his feet flailing, only just catching hold of an unusually deep and moist cavity within the cliff face.
It enabled Undine to steady himself. Carefully he placed his feet on the most comfortable position manageable. Blood was trickling down his brow.
The hand he’d steadied himself with had found something deep within its purchase. Something smooth and gentle to his worn hands. Undine gently withdrew it and found a shoe composed of crystalline glass. Undine winced at the all too familiar item. His blue blood trailed from his fingertips and danced across the shoe’s glistening surface.
“What is this? Why!?”
Undine didn’t allow himself to cry, but nevertheless he did. The shoe was small enough to fit safely into his pocket. Up again he climbed, the rocks sharper under his wounds. His mind occupied itself again, back to that subterranean marshland from ages ago.
How shy was Undine’s little one? Both his and their arms were entangled as they approached the abode of Lady Canis. Her château was illuminated by humanoid candles larger than most men. His little child, Soot must’ve been her name then, became even tighter as they passed the curious décor. Undine still wondered what frightened Soot, for what could be so grim about a candle shaped like a person?
Lady Canis was already there to greet them. Beside her was a girl the same age as Soot dressed in a fine dress. Her pink tongue hung from her jaw as she panted excitedly. Lady Canis was more composed, her muzzle stiff as she surveyed the little offspring.
Undine spoke words with the Lady, about their past, about their contract. The details were paled by the moments after and unimportant to recount. He took a knee and held Soot close to him. It became apparent in that moment how infrequently he had held the child.
“I have a task ahead of me, Soot. Do you comprehend? Acknowledge me.’’
Soot was holding back tears, their mouth steely and their posture stern.
“Acknowledged. You’ve told me many times, dear Parent.’’
“Then recite your responsibilities.”
“I am bequeathed to the care of Lady Canis. I am to do as she says, as I would do for any auntie or elder of the house.”
“Correct.”
They parted from their embrace and stiffly examined each other.
“Can’t I come with you?”
“I calculate you would die."
He had begun to demonstrate his calculations before Soot told him to be quiet. He apologised and they embraced for the last time. He refused to turn as he marched away, even as Soot called his name, for fear he would never turn back.
How was his little beloved now? Living her days within the swamplands of Lady Canis.
Time passed Undine by as his climb continued. Higher and higher, further and further from whence he began. He ignored whatever horizon sat above, for fear it would never end. You could go over his mauled palms, the bleeding and sweat of his brow, or the ache in his abdomen, but it would be dull and repetitive. Pain was all he felt in that moment and yet he still climbed.
Eventually, he raised his hand and felt it rest against a cold, flat surface. His eyes broadened and quickly he thrusted forward with a power he thought long abandoned. Undine collapsed over the edge, breath ragged, flesh trembling.
With one leg still dangling over the precipice, he lay still for a moment, face pressed into the earth. His pain dulled into something amiable, perhaps because he was free from the risk of falling. He rolled onto his back, staring at the sky. All he saw was darkness and two faces staring down at him.
Pain extended out its hand. Undine took it and winced, Pain’s touch like a thousand pinpricks against his raw skin. Undine allowed himself to be hoisted up onto his fumbling feet. He made an effort to curtsey as Pain returned to embracing its pithos, the entity almost smiling as it snuggled into its person.
Something turned hot inside his pocket. His thoughts quickly resumed and he withdrew his child’s shoe. A light flickered from it, and within its dazzling surface were the numbers 8464-1. Undine exchanged quick glances between his audience and the slipper.
A thought that wasn’t his own, rather an external visitor, rested upon his mind:
Do you know what you carry?
“A shoe that belonged to my child. Or at the very least, a mimicry of it. Last I heard, one shoe was in her possession, and its partner under human containment. I suppose it doesn’t matter whether it's real. I recall what I did. You're just setting me up to be miserable.”
There were no more words from Pain, nor any from the figure beside them. Instead Undine saw his spacecraft was suddenly standing behind them. He moved forwards, his arms limply falling to his side.
He unlocked the Ophanim-Shaped craft with his imprint, a great archway unzipping before him. However one foot lingered, held by doubt, or defiance or a childish need for self expression.
“Was there a point to that trial? Because it seems to me nothing but a petty punishment for refusing your council.”
He looked down at the glass slipper in his hand.
“Torment me all you like. I never abandoned my child. I simply haven’t returned. They're strong. They can wait.”
Then Undine turned toward the woman in black.
“And shouldn't there be three of you?”
Neither figure dignified him with anything.
“Torment me all you like. I’ve walked through worser myths.”
Undine turned his back and marched into his craft. Neither Pain nor the woman in black turned to consider anything said. Instead they gazed on ahead, pleasantly comfortable with each other's company.
The inside of his craft was welcomed. It had taken the effort to repair itself, excluding some further tinkering he'd need to undertake eventually. Undine hurriedly entered a new set of coordinates and in a wave of rickety motion his craft returned to its journey. His hands rested upon the delicate machinery, some of its circuitry carved out of bone and now stained wet with blue because of his bloodied palms. Beside him rested the little glass slipper. Undine looked down at his palms. Blistered. Gory. But still his.
He thought of Soot. Of Lady Canis. Of the candles shaped like men. Of the spacecraft. The moments he wanted to fall. He thought of Pain’s hand. The silence from the woman in black. Of the crystalline shoe, still warm in his palm.
“They're strong. They can wait. And I will return.” Undine mumbled to himself, his mind beginning to drift.
He slammed his hand upon the controls and marched off to sleep, to heal and to ultimately prepare. If today's venture had cosmological consequences for him, then let them come.
He marched off towards rest, then paused. Turned around, and retrieved the glass slipper.
For many hours he slept in a cradle of water, nursed the thing close to his chest, as if Soot was there deep in his embrace.
And somewhere, far below, Pain and the woman in black sat upon the water bank, unmoving, eternal, and satisfied.
