Dark Tales From Dandelion

1

Vermilion was surrounded by red liquid. He would have panicked probably, had it not been for his calming mantrum and killing trance he’d put himself into. Little water weeds licked his legs, some tangling around him as if playing at maybe keeping him there with them for a while. He swam up to the surface, still holding his seven-shooters. On one side was an endless body of red-water, and on the bank he saw red trees. Svargaloka.

A Jakeereed buzzed past his head and he hoped he hadn’t become more interesting to them since the last time he was here. He swam for the nearest bank and pulled himself onto it. He collapsed. Too many ghost shots, not enough food to keep them satisfied. He almost fell unconscious, but first reached into a bag—thankfully a waterproof one—in his jacket, and took out a Perfect-rest tablet. Perfect-rest, it’s sleep at its best, thought Vermilion. Two tiks after taking it, he instantly fell asleep.

He awoke thirty tiks later feeling mostly refreshed, but knew he needed food. Another Jakeereed flew past his head. Voiddamnit, he thought. Vermilion hadn’t been to this part of Svargaloka before and wasn’t sure if he’d find another source of sustenance other than maybe some roots. He needed protein—roots weren’t going to cut it. After taking his guns apart and drying off the pieces, he loaded up one of his guns with bullets from his bag, leaving alone the wax-encased bullets on his belt; these were ruined from the water. Heading into the red-tree forest a little ways so he could stay somewhat hidden, he waited for his prey to come buzzing above the water again. The leaves of the red-trees were a kind of dark pink, almost red. Vermilion thought the cluster of leaves looked like brains sitting atop one long artery that supplied blood to the brain from the heart of the earth.

A Jakeereed buzzed along above the red-water. Vermilion waited until it was above solid ground and fired. It went down, he ran out to grab it, then returned to his previous position. He would need more than one to make up for the amount of protein that had gone to his ghost shot frenzy. He shot and killed five Jakeereeds total, then made a fire with dry wood from the forest. He whittled away at a few sticks, bringing the ends to points, and impaled the little creatures on each one, sticking the unsharpened ends in the ground and angling them over the fire. The human-like features of the Jakeereeds’ faces were more than a little disconcerting, but Vermilion just tried to focus on the black, beady eyes of the things and pretended like he was about to eat insects instead of tiny flying humans that fed on dreams.

He ate all five. They tasted like squirrel. A little tough, but meat that he needed nonetheless.

Vermilion got his shit together, put the fire out and started walking along the edge of the forest that bordered the ocean. He knew the red-tree forest was to the east of the Daisy forest; they ran right next to each other, but he’d never seen this ocean before. Which way? e thought, looking down the long tree-line. Nothing for it but to walk.

He continued for two cycles, taking his guns apart, cleaning and oiling them on his big forearm as he went. A loud, low horn noise sounded off in the distance and Vermilion looked to see a huge snake-like body coming out of the waves, its head jutting out in sharp angles, its teeth like razors. Its eyes were that of a cat’s. It dived back into the water, and as it did, it changed into a silvery-smooth liquid substance, its body never fully coming out of the water. Vermilion shivered knowing that he was in the same water as that thing not so long ago.

He came to a place where the thick red trunks and pink brain-shaped tops turned into thinner green trunks with yellow sun-like heads at the top, white petals pushing out from the center, each one roughly six feet in length. The Daisy forest. Thank the Void.

He made sure his guns were ready. If he kept heading south, he knew he’d end up near the checkpoint where the mushroom and lone tree grew, and the fractal fields could be found to the west of the Daisy forest. The forest was thick, the green trunks touching each other in many places. The mushroom checkpoint was further west so Vermilion walked a while on the beach where it was clear.

After thirty tiks or so, he turned into the Daisy Forest, deciding that he’d probably done about two miles with his long stride; there was also a slight clearing of the green Daisy trunks here. Moss covered most of the ground and there was a dampness to the air. Mushrooms grew at the bases of the flower-trees, some Vermilion knew, could take you to places in your mind even stranger than Svargaloka itself.

At some points, he was squeezing between the flower-trees, his husky torso having a hard time fitting; at other times there was no way to get through. There were some pathways, and there were little streams running through the forest that led to red pools of water that Vermilion quenched his thirst at. He wasn’t sure what effect the water here would have on him, but his water pouch was empty so he didn’t have much of a choice. I need to get there by nightfall, he thought to himself as a kind of motivation. He walked in a kind of trance now, his thoughts meandering here and there. How does time move here? From what I remember of the last time I went here with Pip, its about parallel with Dandelion. Those fucking Jakeereeds are doing a number on my stomach. He stepped over a moss-covered log into a bit of mud, covering part of his boot. He wiped his boot off on the moss and continued.

The forest here thinned out a bit, but he could see up ahead that he would be squeezing his way along again. I hope that doesn’t slow me down too much. Then his thoughts turned toward Fiona. I hope I get to see her again. Her and Pru … those things she said to me when she made the strap out of her cloak: come see me, mother that would be. What did she mean? Vermilion started squeezing through more Daisy trunks. Does that mean she’d want to be a mother? I could see us, with Pru and maybe another little baby … a boy! He stopped. What are you thinking?!? You knew her for what … three days? Yeah but she saved me ’n’ Pru, then made her a little carrier. She’s gonna heal Pru … I don’t think I’m being that—

Vermilion realized he’d stepped into a large clearing. There were Daisy trees laying flat all along the ground like a large blanket covering the whole clearing. There was a pile of hair that had been rolled into balls to his right. He slowly looked up. He was staring into a gigantic pink anus. Above this was a large black and gray tail that reached up to the sky in little twists. Vermilion noted that the tail was broken at the base, making it angle up strangely. Underneath the asshole sat big furry legs.

Vermilion’s mouth dropped and he craned his torso to look around the large butt to see what kind of body was connected to it. A giant cat lay on its paws, belly touching the ground. It was the size of a standard Drake house. Vermilion ventured to the left with a few silent steps. The creature’s eyes were closed, and now that he’d been taken out of his reverie, he noticed that it was purring loudly. Gray fur with black stripes ran all along its back. It had four ears, two on each side of its head, each pair of ears sitting next to each other, one behind the other. The large whiskers on the right side of the cat’s face touched the edge of the Daisy-trees.

Vermilion decided that he could probably make ok time with a little back-tracking. He backed away from the cat silently, then, just as he was entering back into the thick flower-trunks, he heard a feminine voice boom through the clearing.

“Hello, Drake. Why run away?”

The sky then changed color to an orange-cream, red hands streaked through the sky to touch each other, shake, then dissipate. A large black ball flew threw the air, grew, then melted into the shape of Vermilion himself, then even that melted and everything went black in the clearing and Vermilion could not see. The cat laughed, a high-pitched titter.

“Stay with me a while. I have things I need to tell you, friend Drake. It’s been so long since one of you wandered through my clearing on your journey to become whatever it is you feel is important enough to become,” said the cat.

“I’m sorry if I woke you—erm—I’m Vermilion. What is your name?” Vermilion asked the cat.

“Mmmm,” purred the cat, “some have called me Daisy. You can call me that if you wish,” Daisy said, turning its head toward Vermilion. “I am female, I can tell it is making you uncomfortable not to know. You are correct in your judgement of my voice. I project it that way into your mind on purpose,” said Daisy. Her lips didn’t move as she spoke. She bent her head down to rub his face with hers. “It has been … so long … since I’ve had a Drake.”

Vermilion tensed up. He wasn’t sure what was happening. Did Daisy intend to eat him? He moved his hands toward his guns.

“That won’t be necessary, Vermilion. I don’t want your flesh—for eating, that is,” Daisy said. Everything went black again. A woman in grey and black striped fur walked up to him. She was a beautiful woman, and judging by the exposed collarbone, was completely naked underneath the fur. Her hair was a dark blonde color, with hints of auburn. Her face was a heart shape, her lips full, her eyes feline-like and slightly slanted. Her nose turned up in just the right way. She wore heels and walked toward him through the darkness, came close to him and breathed into his ear.

“It has been so long,” she whimpered, and she reached a hand down to pet the area where his pants had tightened. She licked the outside of his ear. It took him a moment, but he came to and stepped away into the nothingness. “Why are you shy? I do not bite, I only pet.” She started toward him again. He put a hand out to stop her, but she evaded with ease and slipped in-between his arms, stroking him again. She was so beautiful … and it had been so long. “You do not disappoint, Vermilion. I like this,” she used both hands to massage the length of him. She unbuttoned his pants. “There are things you need to know, Drake, and there are things I will tell. But first … I want you to give me this,” she said, giving him a squeeze.

“What … are … you?”

“I am a beautiful woman, Vermilion. And it looks like you are about to spill your seed,” she said as she freed his cock from the pants. She bent down and licked the end. “I’d prefer that to be inside of me.” And with that, she took off the fur coat, exposing breasts the size of small melons. She clawed into his back as she strattled him. She pressed her mouth to his, and it was so sweet—her saliva tasted like honey to his intoxicated mind. He held tightly to her with both hands as she pumped over and over, her hands on the back of his neck to keep from falling. She put his forefinger into her mouth and sucked. He came and it was a symphony of pleasure that rang in his head and shimmered with wonder through his eyes. She smiled and stayed astride him until he was done. He breathed raggedly. Climbing down from him, she put her fur coat back on. She smiled at him, almost sadly, then turned around and disappeared into the blackness.

The clearing suddenly came back to him. He could see the enormous cat Daisy, who stared at him unblinkingly. Vermilion was bewildered. He had just … what had he just done? He knew it had happened; he was still a bit out of breath and he could feel his seed was spent. The woman’s fur coat … had been the exact same as Daisy’s fur.

“Was that … you?!?” Vermilion asked.

“Thank you, Vermilion. It had been too long. Now ask your questions,” Daisy responded.

“What did you … How did you? What the fuck? Did I just fuck a cat?”

“No. You just fucked a beautiful woman, and judging by the amount of time it took for you to climax … you needed it. Now please, ask your questions.”

Vermilion shook himself and tried to forget about what had just happened, which only resulted in more thoughts about it, which was starting to excite him again without his permission. Voids, no! A cat! he thought. He decided there was nothing for it but to go on. Maybe it hadn’t actually happened. But it had felt so real. Nothing for it!

“I need to get to a different endo. I came to Svargaloka from one, but I need to get to the Dandelion endo. Is there any way to do this that you know of?” Vermilion asked.

“What a bore,” Daisy said.

“I’m sorry?” Vermilion said.

“Oh I thought you’d be asking for some sort of, I don’t know, money or skill of some sort. Something that people equate with happiness.”

“You can just give things like that?” Vermilion asked.

“In a fashion … ” she said.

“Well I don’t want any of that. I need to get out of Svargaloka and onto Dandelion in the Endynas Valley. The third Veil to be exact. I’m in kind of a hurry; I have friends waiting for me there.”

“I think it a small price to pay for what you’ve given me, Vermilion. I will give you your information,” Daisy said.

The world became black again. Voids, no! Not again!

Daisy was a small house cat now, her broken tail sticking straight up in the air still, her four ears twitching a bit. She licked herself.

“Follow me,” she said without moving her mouth. Still a cat, thankfully, he thought, but at the same time found himself picturing the woman, perhaps even a bit regretfully because she was now a cat. As he thought this, he thought he caught a smile on Daisy’s face. Can cats even do that with their faces?

Vermilion fell in step beside her and they walked forward into blackness. Color returned to the world, but they were not in the clearing. They walked above the Daisy Forest, though it was dark outside now. Vermilion looked down and saw what looked like a field of normal sized daisies crowded together far below his feet. He walked, but nothing visibly kept him aloft.

“This is a path I walk at times. Is it in my mind, or is there actually a solid walkway in the sky? I’ll let you have that philosophical argument with yourself for now. Your friends have left you,” she said, and the landscape below changed as they walked. It was night. Putnam and Vance were walking away from the third Veil toward the Endynas City. Vermilion and Daisy walked among the mountaintops on the invisible pathway in the sky. The world blinked and turned back into Svargaloka.

“What do I do? What are we doing? I need to get going so I can catch up with them. I’m going to need them. If you can’t help me get to them, I need to go. NOW!”

“What you do is calm yourself, Drake,” Daisy said, turning her head to look back at him. “I can show you where to go and how to get there. I can even take you to the place. I can show you the way back to your friends. You have given me what I asked, I will give you this.” They passed over an area of the Daisy Forest that had been flattened, flower-trees pushed over on the ground. A huge, shiny, oil-black line spread out in front of the wreckage. The sixty legs were thin and ended in what looked like black wheels. The head of the centipede-looking thing was a giant triangle with antennae sticking out of the top. The inside of the triangle was transparent. Vermilion watched as the bonjean beetle lowered this head over the tops of several daisy-trees, and they disappeared completely as they passed through the seemingly empty, see-through part of the triangle. Some sort of veil? Vermilion thought.

“It is a portal. Some think it goes to an endo where another being lives, controlling the bonjean beetle and engorging itself on the daisy-trees. Though it looks like one could stick their hand through to the other side, if they were to try, they would find that their hand was no longer attached to their body when they pulled their arm away from the portal. I am the only one who has won an argument with the despicable bonjean beetle,” Daisy said.

“Impressive. I’ve heard that’s all the creature does,” Vermilion added.

“That. And destroy my forest. But that is neither here nor there. When we get to the fractal fields, there will be an area of fractals representing Dandelion. Filtering through the fields and finding the endo you are searching for can take lifetimes, and has. I can take you right to the place you need. You will be with your friends, in a fashion, and able to go with them toward your goal,” Daisy said.

“What do you mean ‘in a fashion?’”

Daisy laughed. “None of it is ever as it seems, Vermilion. Your friends are no longer your friends. You recreate all of it every moment,” Daisy said.

“So you’re just getting metaphysical?” Vermilion asked. “Now?”

“Mayhap I am. Mayhap I tell you true: your friends are created by your ünta for the purpose of your endo,” Daisy said. They walked above a great red-water lake in the middle of the Daisy Forest. A winged creature flew by, its head like a mouse, its wings like an eagle. It squeaked. Vermilion let out a snort.

“It looks funny now, but it can really do a number on the digestive tract,” commented Daisy. Vermilion looked down at the small cat that had been so big just a little while ago; the small cat that had been a woman just a little while ago.

“The idder, the ünta, and the endo,” said Daisy. The sky turned black again as they continued to walk on the invisible path, Vermilion keeping close in step with Daisy to ensure he was still stepping on something solid, whether he could see it or not. A huge doll-like head filled the black sky. No hair grew on the head, the eyes looked dead, there was no expression. “If the ünta had a face, it might look like this. It is a void, but not with the sense of lack we usually associate with the word. It is an awareness.” The face’s eyes moved around as if observing their environment. “The ünta waits patiently for the animating idder, the vibrating force that colors the life, creating the story of self,” Daisy said, and the face started smiling, it’s eyebrows moving in subtle ways to convey different emotions, the rest of the face following suit. “Sometimes the story is told to the ünta, sometimes the ünta tells the story; they dance together, the ünta and the idder, in the endo within and the endo without, forever contracting then releasing; coming together, falling apart.” The face disappeared, and in its place were six white shapes in the black sky. The shapes swirled and turned into the outlines of faces without any eyes, three faces on one side, and three on the other. The two groups faced each other, then their mouths started to move. “If we are having a conversation … ” Daisy said, and as she spoke, the three faces on the right became cat heads, “there are really six different endos. In this example, the word ‘endo’ would be synonymous with the word ‘reality’, though ‘endo’ has other meanings depending on the context. As I was saying, there are six endos in existence while in conversation. There is me, the me that I think I am, you, the you that you think you are, the me that you think I am, and the you that I think you are. These can all look different, yet they are all happening simultaneously. They all have being. These are all endos, as in these are all realities that do exist and can be experienced by the ünta, like trying different flavors of ice cream.

“Dandelion is an endo, but there is also the Dandelion that exists in your ünta, which is interpreted by your idder, and this is another endo. There are an infinite number of endos all being experienced at once when you have a whole planet full of people experiencing the planet. There is the endo of Dandelion—some call this the Source endo, some call it God, some call it the Seed—and there is an endo that every person has in their ünta.” The sky changed to just the head of a human and the head of a cat facing each other, then little thought bubbles appeared over their heads. Vermilion continued to walk, mesmerized by the conversation and the images in the sky. Inside the thought bubble of the cat appeared the human who continuously was shoving planks of bole meat into its mouth, while in the thought bubble of the human, the cat was sleeping and ignoring the human talking to it.

“There is also the endo that we each think others are experiencing—so at any given time, there are three endos existing at once—this is called The Rule of Three; the Dandelion that is, the Dandelion one thinks exists in their ünta, and the Dandelion that one thinks exists for someone else.

“The idder is the personality. It is a screen. It tricks the ünta into believing it is actually a personality. But the Necrolore … ” The sky became red, and a black, jagged shape appeared. Bits of the shape started to leak like wet ink on a page, then separate into their own smaller versions of the shape all across the sky, the first shape remaining in the middle of the red sky, bigger than the rest. “The Necrolore can associate its ünta with an idder, believe it is that idder, while also knowing that it is not that idder, but the ünta. This allows the Necrolore to be in multiple endos at once. A Necrolore is identified with its ünta, not its idder,” said Daisy. The sky went back to the previous black background with a white colored human and cat. The two merged into each other. This combined shape stayed while the six talking shapes all appeared again in the sky. The faces talked, facing each other, then the solitary shape absorbed them all. This shape—the Necrolore, Vermilion assumed—moved the sky with its hands, making the big doll face reappear. This shape too was absorbed by the thing. Something about it terrified Vermilion. The shape seemed greedy. “The Necrolore is the only one who can unite all of these separate endos. It is the only one that can destroy all stories, ending the magic of the dance, by absorbing every endo into itself and thus becoming the only dreamer of the dream.”

“Wouldn’t that mean that we would all be dead? We wouldn’t exist,” Vermilion said.

“No,” Daisy replied pleasantly. “It would mean that we would all be slaves to the Necrolore, playing the game like puppets on its strings.”

“Would we be aware of the … would our üntas know? I mean wouldn’t this Necrolore thing be able to trick us into playing its game without us knowing that we were playing a game?”

“Ah … now there it is. The Great Question. Some might say we are under the influence of a Necrolore as we speak, Drake. One that lets us believe we have free will, while we dance in whatever way it wishes,” said Daisy.

“You seem pretty unconcerned, Daisy,” Vermilion said.

“I am unconcerned, Vermilion. Whether or not the Necrolore was, is, or comes again means nothing to me. I am content to exist; I am content not to exist. I don’t mind being a puppet on a string.”

“I don’t like the idea too much myself, but I suppose if it’s already happening, it doesn’t matter too much if you are ignorant of it,” Vermilion said.

Daisy said: “‘The key travels to its Mother to open her head. O’ Children, my Children, don’t get out of bed. Here is fear, here is Leere, here is death of the lore … ‘”

“‘The dreams in your little heads … will be His … evermore,’” Vermilion finished. “The old fairy song to get children to stay in their beds. Daisy … is this … is it referring to Prudance?”

“She is the key, as you have been told by the story-keeper,” Daisy replied.

“If you don’t care, then why are you helping me get to her?” asked Vermilion.

“While I do not care so much about the Necrolore, I do care for you, Vermilion. You’re not aware, but we were … together in another endo. You were also a cat. We never did have kittens together—something in the air there I think—so I want to help you with your kitten now,” Daisy said.

“What?!?”

“It’s true.”

“This is too much,” Vermilion said.

“I know. Thank you, Vermilion. It was … different, but lovely all the same.” Vermilion looked down at his hands which were nothing like a cat’s paws. He searched his memory, but there was nothing of cats. “You won’t find it there. You were you, but not you. Different endos. Here we are,” Daisy said, pointing a paw down to an open field full of what looked like rocks that shifted as Vermilion looked at them. Some had jagged edges that smoothed themselves momentarily, only to become jagged again. All the rocks seemed to have an effect on the others surrounding them, like ripples on a pond. They were a very pale green, almost white color that shined even in the night that now coated Svargaloka in darkness. “When you get to the right fractal, you will think of where you need to be in the endo of Dandelion. Be as specific in your thinking as you can be. You will see shadow-like images played upon the surface of the fractal, giving you a glimpse of your ünta’s picture of Dandelion matching up with the vibrations of the Source endo. If you had a perfect image in your mind, they’d match up to make an almost perfect picture on the fractal, colors and all. We aren’t going for perfect here; what we want is a pretty close vibrational frequency. When you decide to go there, it will be final, so if the fractal misinterprets your information, you may end up on the wrong side of Dandelion. If there is something unique about where you need to go, use that and it should help you be more confident in your search for the right endo.”

“Can I use people?” Vermilion asked.

“I would use the drug addict, not the phase-shifter if I were you. Fractals and phase-shifters don’t always agree—probably something to do with their similarities,” Daisy responded. “But some landmarks would also be helpful. The mountains, perhaps, if they haven’t reached the city yet.”

“How do I know which fractal to use?”

“I will take you to the correct area. Do you see how they shift in form slightly?” Daisy asked. Vermilion nodded his head. “You will want the one that is most itself. The fractal that the others seem to copy. If you’re wrong, you’ll just end up in one of the similar, less potent endos, which will also do just fine, but it won’t be the one you’re looking for.”

“So no pressure,” Vermilion said.

“I will get you quite close.”

“Why can’t you just point out the one I need?” Vermilion asked

“Because I cannot go down from this walkway. I would disappear,” Daisy replied.

“Well that doesn’t make very much sense,” Vermilion said

“No. But what does when you really hammer into it? Thank you again, Vermilion. Good-bye.” And with that, Vermilion started sliding down away from Daisy who stood up on the platform still. He fell onto his ass and slid down toward the fields. He must have started at half of a mile up in the air, so the drop was terrifying. He gained speed as he slid down, the ground rushing up to meet him, and he thought he would soon fall to his death on the jagged fractals, but then the slide started to resist him, slowing him, then it turned to the right slightly, then to the left. He came to a complete stop six feet in the air above a line of fractals. There was one that was bigger than the rest, and he jumped down from the ledge to be nearest this one. He went to touch the fractal, but remembered that Daisy had said it needed to be the most itself, not the biggest. This one was big, and the surrounding fractals seemed to mock it, but he wanted to be sure so he walked down the line a bit in both directions. There were medium sized fractals, and some that were rather small; some as big as the first. He came to a fractal that was smaller than any of the others, and he knew. This one seemed to know exactly what it was, while the others seemed little more than cheap copies. Its angles reached out and stayed that way, rather than constantly shifting this way and that. It was more solid. It seemed the size of the fractal mattered little when it came to being the most legitimate and also the most beautiful. It reached up to him, and some of the arms looked like they were trying to suck the air in.

Vermilion touched the small fractal and thought of Vance, who he assumed Daisy had meant when she’d said ‘the drug addict’; Vermilion had never heard of any phase-shifters overindulging in anything other than the vibrations that they fed on.

He thought of the man’s helmet, cape, sword, gun. A moving, shadowy form started to appear on the fractal. Vermilion thought it could be Vance, but this wasn’t something he wanted to leave to chance. When he’d seen Vance, there were no colors he could associate with either him or the phase-shifter; Vance and Putnam had both been shadows to Vermilion because they were in the other endo, and since Vermilion had never met them before the third Veil, he didn’t know much of what they looked like besides their outlines. His thoughts turned to Fiona. Beautiful Fiona, with her stubbornness, her passion, the tenderness … He pictured her, and Prudance, and the sling she had showed him how to make. He pictured mountains in the background and some trees. It was night, so he pictured them asleep. He saw them. They were bouncing up and down next to each other. Fiona’s eyes were closed, and she had a white-colored nose piercing that he didn’t remember her having before. Pru was in her sling, attached to the chest of Red the shape-shifter.

Vermilion started shaking, which broke his focus. The images faded and he pounded the fractal with his fist. He shook his hand off after because it had hurt—the fractal felt like steel. He breathed and tried calming himself, then tried again. He touched the fractal and pictured Prudance and Fiona, and now Red as well, with the mountains to either side of them, the Forever Forest just ahead, and the dirfweed they were riding. The image on the Fractal became colored and vivid, a perfect replica of the image that Vermilion had in his mind, and as the two endos met and matched each other, he realized that he was looking at the real thing, watching the dirfweed running away from him toward the white trees of the Forever Forest. Vermilion ground his teeth together and ran, drawing his guns as he went. Vermilion had a beautiful image in his mind of Red painted across trees of snow white.