The vibrant light of the chaos-Energy pierced, even through the new pair of Searching-Glasses so brightly, it was as if someone had taken the sun and placed it right behind the dark shadow-crystal glass. That was at least what it seemed like to Screech. He saved up for so long for them, they have not been the newest Model in a long time. Nevertheless, they were by far more helpful than the old pair he sloppily crafted himself. Maybe he should have just followed the dwarfish traditions of his family to become a smith.
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Slowly, it got easier to breathe. He was left with fewer and fewer layers of old, dirty fabric around him before the wild and explainable Force around him would get through them to consume him and make him one with the colorful mass that never stopped to transform from one incomprehensible Object to another. “Whatever would it turn me into?” He looked around, hoping to recognize anything all this strange Mayhem. Every time the treasure hunter thought he spotted something familiar, it had already reshaped and remodeled itself dozens of times. Screech’s eyes glanced over the chaos, always searching for something useful. Somehow, there was something magical about it all. The Strands of pure chromatic energy twitching back and forth between the Walls, sometimes like lightning, sometimes like snakes. Suddenly, somewhere deep down in his subconscious, his treasure-hunter instinct pulled Screech out of his Loops of thought.
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Panting and gasping for air, Screech crawled out of the seemingly endless hole, that everyone just referred to as “The Well”. “Dreaming too much again?” The bundle of old clothes next to him began to rise and beneath it, a young darkelf – woman came to view. She threw the few remaining pieces of clothing into the bright glowing hole to her left and wrapped herself in a simple, yet elegant robe. Screech’s gaze snapped away from her, his face starting to turn red. “I did get out in time, didn’t I?” Screech countered, still exhausted from the climb. “Yeah, yeah, you know I’m just joking.”, the darkelf replied and jumped to her feet, “now, let’s get out of here, I really don’t wanna get caught!” Her sudden Movement made him jolt up as well. “Klepto be with you, Shamika, why are you running so hasty?” Screech called after her, but she already vanished behind the next pile of crumbling Stones and Debris.
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The Door of the small hut in which Shamika and Screech lived was so decayed and brittle, that it wasn’t even worth it to lock it anymore. No one bothered to replace it either. Why would they, there was nothing of worth inside the house that it needed to protect. Shamika was already lying on the sofa when Screech finally arrived in the wrecked building.
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“My, my, you’re still completely out of breath! Here, have a drink, I’ll make us something to eat.”
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“Well, you were rushing through town!” The Dwarf slumped down on the sofa like a sack of potatoes. “I had trouble keeping up!”
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“You know I don’t like the city, I didn’t want to spend any more time than necessary in this rathole.” The graceful figure of the Elf bent down over the crate with supplies like a tree branch that can’t hold the weight of its own fruits. “Didn’t you buy food?”
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“I did.”
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“Are you talking about these dry army rations?”
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“What’s the problem? They are cheap and nutritious.”
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“Well then, bon appétit, I’d rather eat nothing than these sad bundles.” Shamika threw him one of the food blocks wrapped in brown paper. “Where do you even get these things? Aren’t they only for the troops?”
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“I got my contacts.”
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“Ouh, Mister Mysterious has got his little Secrets huh?” Shamika laid down with Screech on the sofa. “Whoever is dealing such delicacies?” Her voice was nearly buried under the loud rustling of the paper.
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“At the north gate, a soldier is selling leftover rations. That’s the best way to get cheap food around here.”
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“I get that you want to save money wherever you can, but that is… May the Ten guide me, what is that?!” the deep purple Eyes of the elf stared at the gray cube in the Screech’s hands in disbelief.
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“They call it ‘Dörfel’. It tastes a little bit like fried cardboard, but it has got the necessary nutrients in it and that’s enough for me.”
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“Dörfel…” The word itself came out of her mouth as if she wanted to spit it out.
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“You really should eat something as well, you’re gonna need the energy if you want to climb down there tomorrow again.”, the dwarf advised her.
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“Don’t tell me how I need to do this, you are getting lost in your thoughts when you’re in the Well. You have to stay focused!”
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“Yeah I know, I’ll be alright, I promise”
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“No, you are not ‘gonna be alright’! I was worried about you. You can’t do this to me!”
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“I’m fine, and besides…”
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“Klepto be with you, you are not taking this seriously enough! If this chaos-stuff touches you once, you are practically dead!”
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“Well, I didn’t die today, now did I? Or else I couldn’t sit here and let you shout at me!”
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The slam of the door, as Screech shut it behind him brought the silence with it as suddenly as if he had knocked out the conversation with it.
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The next morning began with the same silence that came so suddenly on the evening before it. To his surprise, Screech found Shamika in the living room with one of the army rations in her hands. After the two silently finished their breakfast, Shamikas voice cut through the morning air, soft and unusually raspy. “These Dörfel – things aren’t as bad as they seemed at first.” But she didn’t get more than a grumbling “Mhm.” in response. “Listen, I was just not sure if you’ll make it out of there in one piece and this wasn’t the first time I…” “I know. Let’s just go, shall we?”
The door banged shut behind him again.
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With her long, spindly legs, Shamika had no problem catching up with the slightly limping Screech after a few meters. Amid the masses of creatures, Businesses and passing carts with wares, Screech noticed a sign in the distance. “Antoks Herbs and Spices” was written on it in big red letters. “Oh, you go ahead, I’ve forgotten something!” As if he was suddenly possessed, he threw his bag at the completely perplexed Shamika and rushed into the crowd, completely lost in thought, weaving his way through the chaos and finally arriving at the store. The shop was massive and still crowded to the street with creatures from all corners of the world who flocked around the deliciously aromatic piles of spices that were piled next to each other like a mountain range of multi-colored sand. Between all these crazy characters he saw it: a sign advertising “Qassarian N’kulu”. For eternities, Shamika had talked about this. “The red kitchen-gold” or something like that she called it. That was how Screech recalled it at least. That would be the perfect gift for her! Like a Burrow-snake through a dune, he made his way through the masses to the counter.
“How may I help you?” A friendly-looking Noktuskia greeted him from behind the counter. It was heyday for the proud cactus-chimera Tribe of the Noktusks and the woman was adorned with a charming mix of white and blue blossoms. However, there was no time to appreciate the beauty of the Noktusks, only for one thing. “How much do I owe you for a small pack of N’kulu?” “Ah, the crimson Gold of the kitchen!”, the merchant answered in an auspicious tone, “Just a thousand Omnis for a small pack!” The answer hit Screech like a punch in the gut. “Ah, thanks, I… I’m gonna have another look around!” he managed to stammer before disappearing into the crowds again. Sure, Spices were expensive, but so expensive that he couldn’t even afford a tiny pack with all his savings from two months?
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Still a little winded, Screech arrived at the collapsed part of the barrier to the fountain. He squeezed through and made his way to the edge of the Fountain behind it.
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To his surprise, Shamika was lying in the rubble somewhere next to the giant hole in the ground, her bags still full of the old rags that would protect them from the chaos-energy as they descended into the vivid abyss. “You… waited for me?” he greeted the elf. “Of course I did” she replied and threw his bag into his arms. “Besides, I wouldn’t let you go down there by yourself, dummy.” Before he could even notice it, a shy smile flashed across Screech’s face. “Now come on, put the stuff on, I still wanna get home today!” she added. “Yeah, of course, I’m on it!” Screech hurriedly pulled on the clothes from his bag.
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An hour and a few pieces of fabric lost in the tangled mass later, Screech, still a mountain of wild colors and shapes, climbed out of the hole and skillfully removed the remaining layers of fabric and threw it into the place where he had just escaped the chaos. Slightly stumbling, he rushed to the place where the two treasure hunters left their bags. “Shamika!” You could read the joy in the dwarf's voice. “Shamika, look what I…”
The sight of the bags standing solely in all that gray debris immediately pushed his joy back into the pit of his stomach, taking the rest of the sentence with it. “Shamika?”, a slight panic began to fill his throat. But besides the gentle humming of the Fountain, Screech’s voice echoing from the walls surrounding him was the only answer he got, with no sign of the elf anywhere. “Shamika?!” The panic enveloped him so tightly, that his surroundings began to blur. He didn't even notice the hand that rose out of the hole to his left and pulled the colorful pile under which Shamika was hiding with it. Only when she grabbed him by the shoulder from behind with a “Boo!” did he startle and take notice of the Elf. “By the Pantheon, are you alright?” “Yes, I was just searching for a bit longer, no need to bring the Sacred Ten into it!” Shamika quipped. “It was worth it too, look!” She opened her hands to reveal three little wooden frames, each with a seemingly endless room hidden inside it that was flooded with chaos-energy. “Three Frames of this size must be worth at least 150 Omnis!” she estimated. “Seems like it was a good day.” Screech replied, “Look, I also got two!”
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Filled with enthusiasm, the two treasure hunters arrived at the rotting door of their house with Onmis jingling in their pockets. Shamika didn’t even mind the sight of the gray Dörfel for dinner.
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As Shamika was already fast asleep, Screech counted the Omnis in his bag again, his eyes almost glimmering like the little silver coins themselves. 100…200…500…800…950 Omnis! One more frame and the gift for Shamika was his for sure. 50 Omnis in two days was nothing, he thought. With just a tiny bit of luck, he could easily make it.
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With a nasty stinging neck pain, Screech woke up with his head in his arms, which were still crossed atop his shimmering coins. He scrambled them rashly back into his bag and was surprised by a small piece of paper in front of him with scrawly handwriting:
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You slept so peacefully, I didn’t wanna wake you.
Whatever, I’m at the big spinning company in the art district, getting some new rags. You should come too, better to be safe than sorry. You don’t want to run out of ‘em and be unable to go searching.
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See you later,
Shamika
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Screech however didn’t spend any time even thinking about it. Quick as a flash, he rummaged through the room and packed his bag full of old clothes from a crate at the end of the it. He tied it up and scurried out of the house so fast, it was a miracle that he didn't tear the old wooden door through Omnis' city center with him.
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Not even one and a half hours later, it seemed like his decision was carried by luck. Slightly out of breath, but with a mystically green glowing frame in his hands he came out of the Well.
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With a shy creak, Screech pushed open the door to the “Occult Bazaar” just behind the Well building. The shop had no sign in front of it, nothing that made it noticeable to the normal omnian. After all, it had to stay inconspicuous. The reputation of this gritty business made it more recognized than any store sign could ever hope to achieve. Without a word, Screech slid the frame across the wooden counter at the back of the room. An ox-orc-chimera, that touched the ceiling even hunched down to half her height greeted her customer with a barely noticeable grumble. Her body was wrapped in brilliant fabrics with countless delicate little gold chains dangling from them. It was as if she was trapped in a web of luxury and prestige. She silently eyeballed the frame, its faint shine reflected vividly and brightly in her Glasses made of sparkling rainbow glass. Then, she dropped a few silver pieces in front of the dwarf and turned her back to him to stow the frame away. “Ay! Yesterday I got 50 Omnis for a frame like this!”, Sceech shouted back at her. “This is only 35!” After a break that was far too long, a word thundered through the room so loudly that the coins were shaken off the table and danced across the old wooden floor: “INFLATION!” The silence that followed seemed so quiet as if the roar swept out all of the air in the room. As noiseless as possible, Screech gathered the coins from the floor and vanished back into the Omnian Alleyways.
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Screech ran through the never-ending dunes of N’kulu. He scooped up a handful of the crimson powder, but to his surprise, with his touch it transformed itself into flashing and lashing beams of chaos-energy that tore him apart in agonizing pain. Then suddenly, a dull thud against his head. Then another. “Hey, sleepyhead! Wake up! Chronos doesn’t wait and the frames won’t find themselves!” Shamika hurled a third pillow right into his face.
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Until breakfast, Screech still felt like he was still dreaming with one eye open. “Where were you yesterday?” Shamika was unbelievably energetic and cheerful this morning. “You weren’t there to get fabrics, that’s sure.” Screech yawned. “I was at the fountain.”, he mumbled. Shamika gave him a worried and puzzled look. “You’re really stressing yourself out.”, she gave back. As often, she could only elicit a faint “Mhm.” from him. “Do you maybe wanna take a break today? We could afford it, considering what we just found.” Sorrow began to conquer her voice and subdue her morning cheeriness. “No, no!” Screech quickly responded. “Let’s get going, I’ve still got enough fabrics, too.”
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The two of them arrived at the Well a little slower than normal. Still a kind of tired, but routined, Screech wrapped himself in the rest of the protective clothing he had and stared down from the edge into the endless chasm of light, as far as he could see. As mighty and dangerous as it was, it had somehow become familiar to him. With a last nod to Shamika, he made his way down into the shining tangled mess. After the first few minutes, it seemed as if his Lucky streak had been yelled out of him at the occult shop the day before. Far and wide, there was no frame in sight, nothing but colors and shapes without substance were there with him. Slowly but surely, he felt the protective layers vanish again. His breath became increasingly more shallow. Anxiety grew in his chest like a spark of chaos, that was slowly spreading inside him. A glance to the bottom immediately extinguished it though. Just a little further down to the left, maybe ten steps away, there was something stable hidden in the chaos. A frame, at least twice the size of the one he found the day before, was shining strikingly dark out of the glowing light around it. He hastily made his way down. Maybe with a little bit too much haste, because no more than three steps before he could reach it, his foot suddenly stepped into nothingness and the sudden drop tore his hand from the place where he had just been able to hold on. Then he hung a little further down, with his hands clutched in the wall. For a seemingly infinite moment, all that he could perceive was his clenched hands before him and the burning in his chest, which was rising and falling in sudden bursts again. Nevertheless, there were now so few layers of fabric left that protected him that he had no time to take a breath at all. Screech climbed his way upwards through the light as fast as he possibly could. The way to the edge seemed menacingly longer than it did on the descent. His right hand grabbed the frame he spotted earlier and rattled and tugged on it, but it wouldn’t come loose, no matter how hard he tried. The cocoon of fabrics around him got thinner and thinner, but he had to get this frame. For Shamika, for her, it was all worth it. At last, the frame broke loose with a final jolt and Screech’s trembling hand almost dropped it into the abyss from which it was born. Again and again, he lost his footing due to a colorful spike that darted out of the wall without warning. The air burned sharp and cold in his throat like a fire with every frantic breath he took. Again, a dazzling strand of energy shot out before his eyes as Shamika was revealed behind it, she leaned down over the edge of the hole and stretched her hand towards Screech as far as she could. His right hand felt numb, but he pulled himself further towards the elf. With a last surge, he launched his hand toward Shamika’s.
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With a horror that completely overpowered him, he watched his arm shoot up, ending in a wiggling and writhing bright mass instead of a hand gripping Shamika’s. His disfiguring limb missed her Hand and suddenly, Screech found himself in the air without any hold on the walls of the Well. Everything was at a halt. There was nothing but Sreech, the sky above him, the endless hole below and everywhere around him just vicious light.
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Then it seemed as if Chronos himself made time run faster. The abyss pulled him down further and further. Shamika’s screams hammered themselves through his consciousness and the roaring of the wind hurled them back and forth in his mind. The freezing air seeped through his clothing and drilled under his skin. The chaos had already eaten up his entire arm and began to devour his neck. With it, it took his voice that desperately tried to let out one last stifled scream. Shamikas calls were the last familiar sounds, that strayed to him through the chaos. But even the calls faded in the tangled mess, that slowly crept up to his head. Like a worm, it burrowed through his left ear and began to muffle the noises until it finally swallowed them up completely. Underneath his right ear, his jugular vein was ripped to pieces. First in a deep red, then blue, green, yellow and in colors no one had seen before, it spurted out of his throat and froze for an almost incomprehensibly short moment before it got lost completely in the crisp morning air. The vicious mass relentlessly pierced through his right ear as well and made the world around him fall silent.
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Silent chaos surrounded Screech, like a smooth blanket that tore him to pieces, reshaped them, destroyed them, rebuilt them and finally absorbed them and became one with them. As if all the lost pieces of clothing were reforming in front of his mouth, the air became hard to breathe. Deeper and deeper the vivid energy hacked through his neck. When it finally had devoured it, Screech’s head separated from his body and whirled lonely towards the bottomless depths.
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His sight was the next thing that was taken from Screech. Blinding light pierced through his Searching glasses like a flash and his vision went white. But still, it was as if the mayhem wouldn’t want to give him the final salvation of death. In these last moments, he was only left with his fading thoughts in the endless nothingness.
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One last moment in perfect, inescapable tranquillity.
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No form of perception was there for him.
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Just his consciousness was left.
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Until he lost himself
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in the chaos.
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