Alone Together (Anton)

[Naeya]

Timestamp: Season of Fall, 28th Day, 512 AV Bleak darkness turned to light as Naeya opened her eyes to the sunny Cyphrus plains. It had been a place of sorrow and heartache for the Konti ever since that fateful day so many years ago. But now, on this particular endless morning, the plains whispered promises of safety and innocence. The tall grass rustled in the warm breeze, but no other creature stirred as she looked across the familiar green sea. "It must be summer," Naeya murmured aloud, accepting the season change as easily as a starving man accepted a second bowl of soup. As she scanned the horizon, her gaze fell on a distant, grey-barked tree. She knew immediately that it was far older than herself. Its gnarled limbs were twisted and tangled in a pattern that suggested it had been struggling with such chaos for many, many years. The more she looked, the more she felt sorry for it and desired to be at its side. She began to walk, barefoot, towards the tree, passing through the plains with ease. The grass felt like silk on her skin and seemed to whirl around her legs, softly speaking to her in contradictions. Stay... stay... go... It was a comfort to know she was not wholly on her own. Caiyha's children were near, keeping her company. At first, the walk was pleasant. She strode slowly, forgetting the danger of snakes and glassbeaks. Syna's rays warmed her arms, and the grass parted for her effortlessly. After a time, however, she started to wonder why her destination never seemed to be getting any closer. She had walked for many chimes, but always the crooked tree was the same distance away. The realization was an unwelcome trigger. Immediately, her steps became heavier and the ground less kind. Sharp grassy needles scratched at her calves and pulled at her dress, tearing the hem of the white fabric to shreds. The ground became swampy, and her feet sunk into the thick mixture of mud and water. She called on all of her energy to keep moving forward, struggling against the world that had previously been her ally. A hissing noise to her left caused her to whip her head around in fear, but nothing could be seen over the grass that had grown to swallow her in its height. Nothing but green. Suddenly, she stumbled and found herself lying on her back, staring desperately at the faraway sky. The sun had disappeared and in its place, black, foreboding clouds were quickly forming. They rushed together, glaring down at her and swirling angrily. "What did I do?!" she cried out in anguish, stretching a scaled hand out and above her face. The sky opened, and it began to pour.

[Anton]

At the very centre of everything that could be, there sits a turnip who doesn't do a lot.

There is nothing truly special about this turnip. She's not a very pretty turnip, nor does she possess anything resembling a sense of humor. Her academic credentials are neither better nor worse than other turnips, and she has never found herself wanted by the law. She works as much and as little as the other turnips, and she has never been heard uttering even a single complaint or grumble about her farmer overlords.

Just like the other turnips.

She knows the reaping is coming. She knows Bala hates her. She knows her body ends with the munchies, long after cold Dira has claimed her. In her weaker moments, she hopes that this time would be different, that the era of senseless vegetable genocide would end soon and turnips and mankind could work towards a brighter, shared future.

She really wants to believe that.

Wordlessly, the turnip prays not for her own salvation, but for the salvation of all turnips present and fu-

"This will do."

Antonnius Arrius tears the turnip out of her place in the universe and, like a really, really tiny club, begins viciously whacking Naeya to death with it.

He is righteous anger, so the green cannot touch him, for he sees only red. He is faith, because why else would he have pretty wings made out of tables? He is waterpoorf and that's self explanatory. He is life, because-

Because he took it.

And the world didn't matter because the gnarled tree was hideous and he shunned it and all of it's friends in the same way a whore shunned consequences.

He didn't even know what that meant.

But he knew what she meant, and what she deserved.

The club came down again and again, with a exaggerated 'thunk' everytime it bounced off her head.

She was dead. He knew that. He just needed to get the process over with.

He was confident he would break skin by the 7000th blow.

[Naeya]

It began to pour... turnips? No, just one turnip. One turnip who held a very serious grudge against Naeya. This special brand of Hai rained down on her, intent on taking her to task for all of the atrocities she'd committed in the past. Her mother had always told her to eat her vegetables, but now it was Judgement Day and the turnip was knocking. Payback's a bitch. "What did I do?" she repeated, appealing to the turnip's intellect. Perhaps a lengthy conversation would sort everything out. They would tell their tales, laugh over the misunderstanding, and then each go their separate ways. And maybe next time when the turnip knocked, it would be for cake and tea. Cake and tea and hats. Hats all around. The dull thudding on her forehead slowly faded into the background as she pushed herself onto her feet, pleased to see that she was no longer rooted in place. She turned, eager to face the turnip that so readily played both judge and jury. Naeya's defense had been carefully prepared by a monocle-wearing fox who would represent her on the stand. Nothing but the best for the young Konti. "Excuse me. This is Cleopat-" She'd meant to introduce the fox sitting prettily on a tree stump, paw-deep in parchment, but broke off when she saw (with some surprise) that it was not a turnip standing before her. Rather, it was a boy. Well, not just a boy. It was a boy with wings. Beautiful wings, if she was being honest. Which she was. They were squareish and wooden, and faintly reminded her of a certain favourite oversized kitchen table. In other words, perfectly normal. What had she been about to say? "Excuse me," Naeya began again. "Do you know how I can get to the Old Tree? It's vitally important." And it was, though she couldn't possibly remember why.

[Anton]

Two hundred and fifty-four, two hundred and fifty-five, two hundred and fifty-six, two hundred and fifty-seven, two hundred and fifty-eight, two hundred and fifty-nine, two hundred and sixty, two hundred-

Anton sighed, regretting every moment of the beast's long, drawn-out death. If only he had something on hand that could offer it a swifter, more merciful means of execution. Like a huge club. Or a fancy anvil. Or the applied edge of a pair of ridiculously heavy yet highly maneuverable tables fused to the length of his spine. Alas, he had no better options to work with beyond a measly, little turnip.

This one must have offended Lady Bala most gravely.

And few things could offend the lady.

One of which was...

"What did I do?"

"You lent your ears to Rhaus's bane." Anton said, without emotion, without a hint of the disgust he bore toward the beast. "You listened to bard bieber, and for this-"

And as she pushed herself to her feet, he found his aim going from her head to her chest, and then to her waist, and then to her knees. The thwacks become less pronounced as the turnip drifted away from the potentially fatal areas. Huh. Funny how that works.

The fox made total sense though. So she must make total sense.

So the lady was wrong.

10 years of faith and devotion to the harvest thrown out of the window.

For a fox.

Worth it. Hooray for quickly abandoned animosity! It's time to help.

"Listen to my instructions very carefully." he said. "By putting one step forward after the other, you will find yourself slowly transported to your destination." He nodded wisely, his table wings creaking behind him. "By the divine power of trotter, God of steps, you too may harness the gnosis of walking."

And with that, he threw the turnip 5 posts into the future. Without consulting her. Because like Inartans, turnips had no souls.

[Naeya]

Naeya listened attentively to the wise boy's pronouncements. "One step after the other, you say..." Despite the far-fetched nature of his remarks, the boy's words sounded so utterly honest that she couldn't help but believe him. And, if nothing else, the tables were clearly an indicator of his solid, albeit blockish, character. "Trawww.. terrrr..." She sounded out the god's name at a painfully slow pace and mirrored the child's nods. If finding Trotter and being blessed with the all-mighty Walking gnosis was the only way to reach the Old Tree, then so be it. Sometimes, a brave heroine had to walk through fire to avoid being burned. Or cross oceans to avoid being drowned. Or tunnel through mountains to avoid being buried. Or - "Enough!" Naeya glared angrily at the narrator, who sat smugly at home with her trite trunk of metaphors, and dragged the story out of the gaping black hole of disgustingly bad prose which threatened to swallow it whole. Well, she tried to, at least. "Come. Let's search for this 'Trotter' fellow you speak of." She reached out to grab the boy's hand and began to walk. And walk she did. Fields upon fields of grass whirled by in a half-assed montage, put together at the last moment so the viewer could get back to the good stuff but still feel as though the tale progressed. "Ungh. Shut up and let the tale progress already." Soon, the pair of travellers arrived at a red, wooden door. It stood alone in the field, unattached, unloved, and in desperate need of a makeover. No walls or windows; just a door, leading to nowhere. Story of my life. "Quit your whinging. Please." Naeya spent a long moment staring at the door, debating her options. "We could go under it," she murmured, "or over it. Maybe even around it, if we're feeling brave..." And then the door knocked twice, interrupting her decision-making. "Hello! May I ask if anyone is on the other side of this door?" The voice was male and nasally and reminiscent of a clogged gutter. Naeya looked over at the table-boy-child in surprise. "Did you say something?"