Dark Tales From Dandelion

1

Fiona held no guilt. She could not be guilty for guilt was not. All was forgiven in this light, and all was allowed. All was as it should be, and nothing could not be. Nothing was turned away, for as it trespassed, it was forgiven. She smiled and gazed with unseeing eyes up at the sky, looking in at the universe and thanking it for every piece. Where perceived negativity was once pushed away with an outward facing hand, it was now beckoned to and welcomed with the same hand. The man at the gate had not been a man; rather, he had been ‘being’ itself. He was not angry, but ‘being’ temporarily identifying with anger as himself. She forgave it, as there was truly nothing to forgive. Seeing oneself as something that one was not was part of this dance, and hadn’t we all agreed to come to the ball? We all had—no point in condemning everyone’s outfits.

She couldn’t move, she couldn’t speak. She was in complete awe of the world and its fundamental innocence. Quint was carrying her, she knew that, but was it Quint? No. Quint was an idea, her idea, and he was what she thought he was, not what he actually was. They were walking, The sun was setting, the big moon’s reflection showing in the sky prematurely. Everything was forgiven. Everything was ….

2

Shit. Everything was shit. Was Fiona going to make it to the tower before she completely lost it? Perhaps the proximity to the tower was driving her further onward, toward a complete break. Mother has had strange effects on people, why not Fiona? Quint thought. But Quint didn’t quite believe it; Fiona seemed … different … special. Most thrummers didn’t black out and kill Rakshasas. Most thrummers couldn’t split their minds two ways, let alone four. Maybe that was it? Fiona’s abilities weren’t agreeing with the Woman in White’s? She was able to break through the fourth Veil … would that upset Mother?

Quint walked, carrying the lightened Fiona, his thrumming still in place on her. None of it made sense, but he supposed that was why they were seeking outside assistance from the Mother. What if she wanted to put Fiona down? What would Quint do? It was a gamble. She had been known to do things in the name of the greater good. If this was one of those times, would Quint react in favor of Fiona, or the Mother? Quint’s surrogate Mother … the Woman in White. He wondered where Valucias was. Could she tell Quint the answer to that as well? He missed his brother.

Mama?

3

Phildrious Putnam grabbed the potential that twisted and morphed in the air above his right shoulder, turning his oily black skin to a pale white. The area beneath his shoulder blades itched, then opened into slits as black, bat-like wings sprouted. He stretched them out; they were slightly wet from the thick membrane that covered them before the black leathery wings poked through. He flapped them, allowing them to dry; the potential beckoned to him to be apart of it fully, to identify as this form he took, to come to the other side where it was a reality. Putnam was used to this, and it just sat in the background among other things like his intense hunger for protein every time he took this particular form.

Putnam looked down on the valley from his high mountain top, breathing in the air. His vision in this form was great, and he could see The Drifter as he walked into the building with the Fisher king sign sitting atop it. What was this man doing here? A thrummer for sure, but why the helmet and the cape and the sword? That couldn’t be a ….

His stomach grumbled and he remembered the price of taking this form; hunger for meat—a lot of meat. He’d have to use his time wisely. This potential wouldn’t necessarily show itself to him again while in the valley. The wings were still wet, not quite ready for flying. There was nothing to do but wait now and watch the brothel.

There was a beggar sitting there to the left of the entrance a bit, holding a cloth over one of his hands. Is that … blood on the cloth? Putnam thought, squinting in concentration. He pulled his wey-shin from the sheath at his hip and set about sharpening the blade with the whet steel he’d pulled from his pack. It had been too long since he’d been to the tower of Ken-phae. He needed to bring Fiona there as well, regardless of her apprehensions about phase-shifters, the girl would have to ….

The man walked out of the whore house whistling. It was a familiar tune to Putnam, because it was one his people sang in celebration of new love when two phase-shifters committed themselves to each other.

Oh how I know

Oh how it’s true

Sweet the scent of stargazers

We gazed as nevers bloomed

I don’t know the questions

I have now an answer

My no time is a peace song

My answer is you

Putnam hummed to the tune that the thrummer in the strange outfit whistled. He watched as the man made his way through the strip of shops, inns and houses. Then Putnam saw a woman with red hair and striking features walk out of the brothel whistling the same tune. Did those two just … in a brothel?

He thought of Callus. Their petty disputes seemed pale in comparison to the gnawing ache in his stomach where she now lived, a subtle whittling. Void, but I was so stubborn. He shook the thoughts off to focus. The feelings remained, but they were always there, and much like the small tugging he felt from the other potentials when he phase-shifted, he’d learned to live with them and disregard their pull.

His wings were fully dry now so he sheathed his wey-shin, put his whet steel in his bag, and jumped off the edge of the mountain peak. His skin was like pure white light, which he knew would make it difficult for those below to see him with the sunlight shining overhead. He tried to stay out of sight without having to go too high and get cast back to the beginning by the fifth Veil—this Veil kept anyone from just flying in, while also keeping those that wished to fly out from being able to do so—if one tried to fly out or in, they were actually transported back to the mouth of the Endynas Valley. This Veil was kept in place by the Woman in White, and anyone wanting to travel out of the valley without walking back to the beginning would have to consult with her and get approved. Except for that time right after Quint left the tower with his brothers, Putnam thought. The Rakshasas were able to get in with a sesnickie and Move out of the valley. Someone from Quint’s group attacked The Woman In White. Putnam had a hard time fathoming it; the Woman who had instigated the entirety of the Endynas Valley was bested for a few moments by one of Her pupils.

He was running out of energy and knew he needed to land and shift out of this form. He flew past rocky mountainsides with trees growing out of the sides in places. Not a lot of room for landing here, he thought. Finally he saw a patch of grass jutting out of the side of the mountain that looked flat enough. He landed on it, immediately looking for a potential that could serve him best, but saw none that could do much better at the moment, so he shifted back to his original oily form. This wasn’t a bad form, but it was hard work to travel with it in these conditions. He moved like spilling oil down the mountainside from one somewhat flat spot to another, most of the spots not very flat, but he only had to touch and go. He used three of the seven pillars of Ken-Phae, wen(sharpness of mind), den(stealth, or agility) and shin(presence of mind). The oily form helped him make easy travel of the mountainside, but it was his Ken-Phae training that really made him able to jump from rock to rock.

He made it to the second Veil this way, not stopping to find another potential for the sake of saving time, but also for fear of falling while grabbing for a potentially useless potential. descending upon the lake in a head-first dive, he pulled out his blade as he did so—he knew of the wretched things that lived in the deep parts of this water. Far beneath the surface, Putnam grabbed onto a Deva tar-ta potential, allowing him the swimming capabilities, along with the ability to breathe underwater. As soon as he shifted, his superior eyesight kicked in and he could see the behemoth not ten feet away from him. It wasn’t swimming so far as Putnam could see; it seemed to be standing up from the bottom, which was far beneath even this considerable depth of the lake. Its eyes were on the sides of its head, its mouth enormous and fishlike, barbels drifted alongside the face and Putnam could see the current running through them. If he got touched by one of those ….

The thing’s rust colored arm reached up to grab at Putnam who was much too fast for its lethargic movements; its scales flickered with some of the electricity he had seen in the barbels. Great. The thing had the shape of a human man except for its head and possibly the unseen feet and ….

It opened its mouth, which was about four Putnam’s wide. The tongue was a point that throbbed and curled in on itself behind the jagged, razor-sharp teeth. Some of these teeth were black and filled with puss that leaked out as it blew out—pushing Putnam away from it at first—then sucked in the water directly in front of its mouth. Putnam’s eyes grew large as he realized he was getting sucked in.

He kicked the powerful Deva-tar-ta legs into action, swimming with all of his might, but it only left him at a stand-still in the water, exhausting his muscles with the pointless effort. A potential swirled at exactly the center point of the behemoth’s mouth. Putnam managed an eye roll as he allowed himself to get sucked into the giant mouth, some of the tooth puss hitting him in the face before he actually made it there.

Once inside the mouth, the thing closed its jaws around him right as he grabbed the potential. All was silent for a moment, and the beast naturally thought it had won, but the beast didn’t know that it was up against a phase-shifter. Putnam’s sword and bag absorbed into his flesh as the new potential became realized. His eyes moved to the sides of his head, he grew to be twice as tall as he was before, and four times as wide. His teeth became the points of a predator’s, and his hands became claws meant for ripping flesh.. He grew a tail that had an edge to it. His skin became a greenish brown. This was the body of something that needed a lot of protein to function properly. His muscles cried for it, his stomach growled for it, the rocks inside bouncing against each other since they had nothing to grind up.

He began to feed; first on the tongue, which didn’t take very long, though the beast did attempt a shriek while Putnam worked at it. Now he went down through the throat, tearing at the sides with his claws all the way down and once going off of the path into the neck, eating through it like a worm through dirt. After tearing through the thing’s guts, Putnam came out of the body completely, then swam directly up to the head and went in through a nostril. He ate through the behemoth’s brain, clearing ten total paths through.

The beast was clearly very dead and Putnam’s hunger in this form was satisfied. He grabbed onto the Deva-tar-ta potential that was about six feet in front of him. Feeling more comfortable with the size and metabolism of this form, he swam up toward the surface as the mutilated thing behind him collapsed to the bottom of the lake. If only that could count as my second Veil, Putnam thought. Putnam looked back at the severed body parts of the monster below, some of them sinking to the bottom, some rising up above. If you knew Putnam, you would have noticed something about his face that was different than usual; it flickered slightly at the corner. It was as if, even in the smallest of ways, Putnam had just shown a glimmer of emotion on his face—He had smiled.

Putnam crested the surface of the lake and climbed onto the island. He passed through the second Veil with ease, smiling at his feats, and made it to the other side of the island, where he got back into the water to swim to the distant shore. Before he did this however, he saw the man who had been whistling the love song of his people just up ahead, disappearing behind rocks where the path narrowed slightly. Who is this man? He didn’t really know whether to trust his gut or not on this one, but he had a bad feeling about this man in the cape. Putnam could not attune the Inner Vibrations, but he knew how to look for different energy signs because of his training in the Tower of Ken-Phae. Tense shoulders, smoking, looking around often, Putnam thought. This one was uncomfortable about something. Putnam was content for now to just follow behind him as they made their way through the valley.

When Putnam got to where the man disappeared, he saw there was a great black hole on the side of the mountain where the path dead-ended. A Loose String, he mused. Putnam stepped through and didn’t exactly shy away from the light creatures. He may have even let them work on him a bit before ripping himself away from them to get back on the path toward his old friends while he followed his new ‘friend’ to the next Veil.