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The boy gently pulled back on the reigns of his steed, the animal giving out a loud huff as his hooves clipped at the ground, gravel being kicked back by the impact. The horse seemed impatient, swaying back and forth in its place, doing a turn before the boy decided to dismount, keeping a firm hold of the straps as his eyes focused on the enclave he’d been searching for all this time. An opening in the great mountain; a massive cave with gaping holes in the ceiling and sides, and yet any unknowing traveller could’ve easily missed it, but he knew what he was looking for.
His horse tugged on the reigns, perhaps unsettled by the opening dawning over them; though wide and lit up with sunlight thanks to the eroded openings, it radiated an air of mystery, curious yet ominous mystery. He’d tilt his head back in an effort to see the top of the mountain, but found the more he leaned back, the more the strain would cause an ache in his neck.
Terrifying yet glorious.
He took a tentative step. Then a second. His horse huffed in disagreement, clearly not too taken with going closer to the cave, the boy tugging on the straps a few times before realising if he wanted to find what he sought for, he’d have to do it alone. He gave one last tug in hopes that the animal would have a change of heart but it grunted and bobbed its head and he knew he’d lost the fight.
“Ah… Shhhh, mi amour”, he cooed as he gently brushed a hand over its head, the horse moving closer only to press their faces together, as if understanding their journey together was coming to a close. The horse was brave, but not brave enough, and he wouldn’t force it to see the metropolis that it clearly had no interest in. They were companions, but that stopped when it came to cavorting through mysterious caves with no guarantee they’d find what they were looking for.
After having a moment with his head to his horse’s, he withdrew and moved along the side of the grand animal, his fingers gliding along his powerful body before he rose his hands to remove his loaded satchel from the horse’s back, taking what he could carry before he took off the saddle, setting it aside on a fallen tree then pulled the straps from its head, placing it alongside the saddle.
He allowed his hand to stroke over the horse’s face then down along his mane and back before he gave a departing pat and made his way towards the cave. He could hear his horse give a startled neigh, as if asking him if he was sure of what he was doing. He heard him jump a bit and huff at him but he decided against looking back. He needed to see it for himself, he needed to know, the stories he’d heard, the legends. A lost valley beyond the cave, mystical creatures. If he had to die to see such glory, he would happily do so.
He’d spent his life learning of the metropolis; it was now time to find out if it was true.
His horse was a faithful thing, he knew that he’d likely stay and wait for his return. He’d likely remain there and die there waiting for him, and if the boy could, he’d like to return to him alive, hopefully with the knowledge and experience after seeing the most extravagant of the Gods gifts.
The sounds of his horse calling to him slowly faded out as he made his journey within the cave, his eyes scaling the walls, water dripping from the ceiling, the air immediately seeming a lot more dense as he was surrounded by damp walls and the echoing sounds of his boots padding the stony, wet ground. Through the gaps in the sides, he could spot clumps of greenery from the forest, an occasional bird would flutter in, circle in the cave before darting out, the hearty tweets joining in the sounds of his slow, cautious footsteps.
Despite being shrouded in wonder, the possibility of this being a wild goose chase, or even the chance of him perishing, it was overwhelmingly beautiful. The light shining through the gaps creating rays, the water against the rocks sparkling glamorously and the lush green of the foresting peeking through and reflecting in the small pools surrounding him was utterly picturesque.
If only the Madame had been here, she’d find this to be such a fitting picture to paint; however he knew that if he were to find the metropolis, there’d be a plethora of scenery that would put the most beautiful of artistries to shame.
He clutched at his chest. Perhaps it would be more beautiful than the philosophies inscribed? It was said to be akin to that of trapezing through heaven. If that were to be the case, perhaps he would surely perish, for seeing such a sight should only be viewed by the eyes of angels, and he certainly was no angel.
He allowed his eyes to gently shut, knowing he was getting ahead of himself with this wishful thinking; however how could he not? He’d dedicated his life to learning of these legends, memorising the scriptures and searching for signs. His entire life was dedicated to this exact moment with him wandering through this cave. His hopes were souring in of itself just by the mere fact the cave existed. If there’s a door surely there’s a room?
He’d walked for near to ten minutes, maintaining his slow, cautious steps and the further he trekked, the more glossy pools would appear at his feet. He knew this would be the case, the surrounding waters were inscribed, a metropolis in a wetland. This is why he’d hoped his horse would’ve been with him, for he wasn’t too keen about having his boots trenched in water, but it appeared he’d have no choice in a few moments as he stared ahead of his path, he noted that the ‘dry’ ground was steadily vanishing as the pools would soon take over.
As he finally reached the end of dry paths, he sighed as he slowly stepped through shallow puddles, relieved to see through the clear water and be able to distinguish where the water would be deeper and shallower. Another ten minutes later he found himself regrettably ankle deep in the pools, hoping in vain that he wouldn’t have to swim, but knowing what he did of the metropolis, he knew that his swimming lessons weren’t taken for no reason.
His trudging remained slow, trying not to step too harshly as to avoid the water from splashing as well as hoping to refrain from stepping in deep holes. He tried his best to survey his surroundings as well as keep an eye on his path, noting from his glances up and away from his feet, his surroundings expanded further, appearing as more of a marsh than a cave. Trees could be seen ahead of him, drooping and damp with mossy vines dangling from the branches.
A few minutes passed and soon the water was above the top of his boots, water filling the insides and soaking his pant legs and socks, a dismayed sigh escaping him with every squelching step he took forward.
A sound to his right forced his attention away from his feet, taking a startled step forward as he searched for the source. He stood still, eyes scanning around him desperately as he listened for any other odd noises other than the sound of wind, water and birds chirping distantly.
If his focus hadn’t been solely on his path, he might have noticed the raising fog that surrounded him. It was so gradual that he barely registered the clouded air around him the further he ventured through the swamp. He heard another noise further to his right and he took another step, trying to face the direction he’d heard the noise but he slipped, causing him to stumble and fall backwards, immediate regret settling as his body was enveloped by the crisp embrace of water.
“Merde!” He screeched as he scrambled to raise from falling on his back, water dripping from his blonde hair and streaming over his face. It was a pathetic struggle to get back onto his feet, his movements almost similar to that of a desperate animal. His feet kept slipping in the mud, forcing him to fall right back into the water, blowing droplets from his mouth and cursing up a storm the more frustrated he became.
Eventually he forced himself to stop struggling, panting breathlessly as he sat up in the water, his elbows on his bent knees as he stared at the foggy water, barely making out his reflection as his breath blew circles on the surface.
Deflated, he reached for his satchel, pulling the flap open and bringing out the loaf of bread and glared at its decrepit form, falling apart in soppy bunches. He tossed it aside with a frustrated growl, shovelling out the soaking papers before he took off the satchel completely, having no use for the items inside it and well as the satchel itself anymore before he roughly rubbed his hands over his face, whispering to himself to calm down; he was getting too heated.
He slowly uncovered his face, drawing his hands back and slicking his wet hair back and out of his face before his eyes focused on his reflection in the water, his heart stopping when he noticed his face wasn’t the only thing present in the natural mirror.
Slowly he rose his head, meeting a pair of beady brown eyes staring right back at him. The largest stag he’d ever seen was a mere two or three feet before him. Its proximity and size, though increasingly alarming wasn’t the most surprising thing, however. His hide was a brilliant snow white colour, hooves a shining silver and most notably above all else were the antlers. Powerful, fierce branches protruding from his head, a gleaming golden colour radiating from them. He’d never seen a more pure animal in his life.
He watched as the beast tilted its head to the side a bit as if trying to see him better, its nostrils yawning as it sniffed at him. The boy, although struck by the animal’s beauty, felt a raising fight or flight reaction bubbling up in his chest and his hand made an instinctive motion for his dagger sheathed at his side.
The stag seemed to notice his actions and it rose its head a bit, bucking one of its front legs and huffing out harshly at him. Clearly acting on the offensive was the worst idea he could have come up with, he knew in a fight to the death with this beast would only end in him being impaled by those brilliant golden antlers. In an effort to calm the beast he unsheathed his dagger, causing the stag to bob its head in a warning motion before the boy tossed it aside, holding his hands out to it and showing he meant no harm.
“Facile! Facile! C’est bon”, he cooed at him, the stag seeming to observe him for a moment before it moved closer, snorting at him. The boy forced himself not to scramble back, wanting to desperately prove to this beast that he was friendly. This animal must be a part of the metropolis for the boy had never seen such a mystical creature in all his life. What buck had golden antlers and such fair white hide? It was clearly a handmade angelic presence produced by the Gods. Perhaps a protector on the outskirts of the metropolis? He couldn’t be the Guardian, even though the boy wouldn’t know for sure, the description of the guardian was always so vague, but he had a feeling that this beast was not it.
It veered its face close to his, sniffling curiously at him. After a few gut wrenching moments it snorted and moved back, giving the boy space that made him exhale in relief. It didn’t leave him, only stood staring down at him, as if waiting for him. The boy took this as a sign, this time being careful as he climbed to his feet, managing not to slip on his way up and brushing at his thighs as if he could wipe away the filth from the swamp water.
He stood stiffly as he stared back at it, feeling overwhelmingly uncomfortable in the drenched clothes that clung to his skin. He was cold and wet and smelled of a bog, but he was in the presence of a pure entity, he wasn’t sure if this was the worst miracle or the best misfortune. He decided to remove his cloak, the heavy damp article slapping into the ground once he untied the strap, his body feeling slightly less weighted than it had before.
The stag still watched him and he made reluctant step closer to it, holding out a shaking hand that yearned to pet it. It snorted but didn’t move away nor did it lean in, merely watched him come closer. In an act of bravery he moved up to it, his hand setting itself on the neck of the animal and feeling its hide. The fur was far softer than he thought it would be, having expected the matted and clampy mess he’d usually experience from the deer and bucks he’d hunted with his friends or family. A further proof this was a creature made by a higher power.
He gingerly pet at its neck, the stag seeming to react well to the affection as it shuffled itself closer to him with a huff, the boy smiling and raising another hand to pet at its head. He scratched behind its ear and below its snout, the animal making a low rumbling sound, similar to that of a purr as it allowed its eyes to close in pleasure.
“Est-ce que ça fait du bien?” He cooed at it and the creature snorted in response, causing the boy to let out a breathy laugh before the animal retracted and shook its body, the boy stepping away to prevent himself from being whacked by its antlers. It looked at him again before it started to walk, the boy taking a moment before he hurried to trek after it, concentrating on not slipping in the mud again. He returned to its side, daringly placing a hand on its nape, and gripping to prevent himself from slipping. Luckily the stag did not seem to mind his touch.
He allowed it to guide him, hoping that this is what he was meant to do, hoping that it would lead him to the metropolis. He couldn’t help his constant glances at the animal, still marvelled by its existence and the fact that he was holding and following something so outstandingly remarkable. He wished his Madame was here with him, how she would fret and possibly grip to him in fear as well as at the same time yearn to admire the beast.
He felt himself falter at his thought of her presence. Her presence that he had allowed himself to abandon in his journey to get to this point. It was his decision to make to leave, and her decision to stay. He shook his head as he attempted to disallow her existence to bring down his mood. He shouldn’t be sorrowful when he was just within reach of his life goal. He would be seeing a legendary land within moments to come. Perhaps he was far too optimistic for his own good, she had always warned him of that; but how could he not be as he walked alongside a golden antlered stag? Perhaps optimism wasn’t an unreasonable mindset to have.
The stag’s walk suddenly came to a halt which brought the boy out of his mental prison, now becoming acutely aware that the water levels had risen to his hips. His face scrunched up in displeasure at the lukewarm water sloshing at his waist, looking to the stag who seemed to curl its body in front of him. He knew what this action meant from when his horse had done it, usually an utterance for him to get on.
He stared at it in bewilderment. There’s no way this stag could seriously be telling him to climb onto it and ride it, surely? It felt so blasphemous for him to even entertain the idea of seating himself on its back. The animal snorted at him and nudged him with its side, as if telling him to hurry up. He scrambled helplessly, placing his palms on its body and launching himself upwards before swinging a leg over to its side so he settled somewhat comfortably on its back.
For a moment he felt uncomfortably awkward to be sat there, his hands placed uselessly at the base of its nape and sitting stiffly with his back upright like an arrow. He almost found himself falling right back off of it once it started moving, as if he just expected for it to stand still while he sat mounted on it. He steadied himself and leaned forward, gripping at the short line of fur along its neck that almost replicated a mane, unknowing of where else he could hold for support. Soon enough the sluggish walk through the water became a peddling as the stag swam through the bog, the boy continuing to grip to it and still trying to wrap his head around the fact he was riding an Elk made by the Gods themselves.
They had only been swimming for a short while before he noticed that some structures could be made out through the fog. He strained his eyes to try and identify what they were better and found himself gobsmacked as he drew closer. Fallen towers and broken off pillars swamped by the bog. The structural formation appeared similar to the pictures he’d seen in the journals. He felt his heart wrench for a moment at the dawning realisation that the metropolis he would see had fallen; that maybe there was nothing left for him to a venture. A world created by the Greek Gods so many centuries before that stood as a secret haven for their heirs, now possibly before him in absolute shambles.
Greek mythology was not a popular topic or belief in France, and he may never have found himself believing it had it not being for his mentor, who to others sounded like a madman, but to him made the world feel so much more clearer.
The metropolis was not a well-known legend, it was something one would have dug deep to uncover in the inscriptions of Greek mythology, a conspiracy that was based in France which made it that much more undesirable to non-believers and the devoted alike. A Legend he and his mentor had dedicated their lives to unearthing as much as they could about it. Very few believed the Greek Gods would create a ‘haven’ anywhere on the Earth they monopolised, much less in France which was very much out of their lands of popularity. To sink to such a low level as to conform to the dirt of mortals? It was unthinkable. The Greek Gods were unkind, but undoubtably incredible. Fate seemed to be just as unkind as the further he and the stag swam, the more he’d see fallen structures, homes sank below the water, extravagant homes the boy could only dream to live in for himself.
Perhaps that’s all this was, a dream. A cruel dream, bringing him to the place he’d wished to see for the majority of his life only for it to be torn apart as a bittersweet reality that a godly world above water on mortal ground would only lead to ruin. It was foolish of him to think he would be able to just waltz into a full intact metropolis occupied by literal Gods and Demi-gods alike. No wonder it had been so easy. Perhaps he was ungrateful, to be here in the first place was such an honour, to know what once existed was incredible; but it didn’t feel as gratifying as he would hope for. What proof would he have that this place was mystical? For all a non-believer would know, it was an establishment compiled by the wealthy that had fallen to flooding and natural disaster. All the years he spent reading on the philosophy be damned.
Disdain swelled within him as his head fell forward, his chin to his chest as his eyes burned with the desire to weep. He sniffled and glanced to the water when he thought something moved in his peripheral, his tears that threatened to fall halting before they could bundle and roll when he saw something move in the water. Something of astronomical size.
He tightened his grip on the hide of the stag and leaned forward a bit as a form of terror stirred in his chest. His eyes followed the slow shape of whatever was below them and he felt his thighs squeeze the body of the stag tighter as he swallowed, mentally saying a prayer as if he anticipated his death in the next few moments. Surely he was about to die, he couldn’t be imagining it, it was a live creature swimming below them, and from what he could tell, something of that calibre would undoubtedly swallow him whole. Perhaps that was his punishment for trespassing on sacred grounds?
He ground his teeth as the water started to shift, the stag letting out a tired grunt as it swayed with the water, something starting to surface. The boy leaned forward to press his front into the nape of the stag, hugging himself close as if it would protect him, watching as what looked like large branches started to raise from below the water. He muttered prayers to himself, his life flashing before his eyes and all the regrets coming to his mind as the top of what seemed to be a head came into view.
He never got to tell his mentor he found the metropolis, tell him it really existed.
He never got to say his goodbyes to his parents and knowing their parting interaction was one that would most likely haunt him to the next life, he wished he could’ve made amends before facing his impending death.
The head reached above the water surface, a snout showing and a large set of sharp jagged teeth could be seen. He hugged himself impossibly closer to his steed.
He never got to tell Madame how he felt. He never said sorry for how he left her that evening. He should’ve kissed her rather than retreat with his tail between his legs like a pathetic animal.
So many regrets rose up in his throat like bile and he bit at his lip to prevent himself from actually vomiting as the monster rose high above the water with its long neck shuddering as it made a low rumbling noise.
The boy felt his lips part in horror as it towered high above him, casting a shadow over his and the stags bodies. Despite the presence of the water bound beast, the stag did not relent its swimming, clearly having a goal in mind and refusing to stop until they reached it. The monster moved its eyes to glare down at them, big black eyes that were nearly the size of the boy’s head. It had antlers like an Elk, large branches stemming out in all directions, jagged and sharp. From a momentary observation, he could compare it to the Scottish folklore he once read about. It was similar to the Loch ness monster, a water bound creature, but its difference was in the large antlers protruding from the top of its head, making it seem all that more daunting. Moss and vines dangled from its antlers, swinging over its head, and almost appearing as trees sprouting from atop its head.
It didn’t move aside from its fixated gaze on them and the boy felt himself frozen with fear as he stared right back up at it, holding onto the stag like it was his lifeline. He had no idea for how long they’d just sat staring at one another before he noticed the water level had lowered significantly and the stag once more was walking on ground.
The boy reluctantly broke eye contact with the creature to look down at the ground, seeing mossy cobblestone rather than the glossy water they’d been sloshing through for the past who knew how long. The stag huffed and puffed, clearly unused to carrying people on its back which should be no surprise to the boy. It shook a little before tilting its head to the side, looking over at the great water beast with no sign of discomfort about being in its presence.
The beast seemed to look back at it before another low rumble vibrated from its throat, its head swaying forward and down towards them.
The boy let out a shriek he would never have admitted to making as he frightfully launched himself off the stag, landing square on his arse on the cobblestone ground, and he could say for sure that the moss did him no favours in cushioning his fall. The adrenalin allowed him to ignore the pain and scatter back and away from the stag and the beast, backing himself up until he hit something, he wasn’t paying much attention as to what.
He could feel his heart hammering up in his throat, his palms flat on the ground as he pressed his back hard into the surface he found preventing him from getting away any further. He watched as the beast lowered its head to the stag’s level and the two seemingly sniffed at one another as if in familiar greeting. A moment later the stag turned away and looked over at him curiously, as though it was wondering why he was cowering away.
The stag snorted at him and clipped one of its front hooves into the ground as it trying to tell him to come back. The boy gave him an incredulous look, his eyes dancing between his furry friend and the overwhelmingly large presence towering over said friend. He’d never seen anything like it, and part of him wished he never had, it left him wanting soil his pants, a rather humiliating feeling as one would imagine.
The stag gave a rather disgruntled huff, showing it was displeased with his fear and he would’ve snapped at the animal if he weren’t so scared for his life. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew he probably shouldn’t be as scared as he was, which was a damning thought, but judging by how his new friend was acting, he supposed he might’ve been overacting. Of course, that was a mere ‘back of the mind’ thought as everything else in his body and mind told him, that thing is massive and dangerous, be cautious.
The stag gave another grunt before it looked to the beast that looked back down at it. They seemed to communicate something, the stag gave a few whines at it and the beast would respond with barks and rumbles. It was loud, the boy couldn’t help but flinch at the volume the beast barked at. They seemed to come to some sort of agreement because soon enough they both refocused their attentions to him and he felt his shoulders stiffen as the beast started to shuffle in the water, moving itself forward. Soon it reached the edge of the water and it seemed to heave itself up onto the ground, its front fins flapping onto the cobblestone floor and it began a waddle towards him while the stag made a slow approach likewise.
“Non! Non! Non! S'il te plait! Ne t'approche pas de moi!” He pleaded, his boots beginning to scrape into the ground as the second wave of a fight or flight reaction bubbled deep within himself. The beast made a hiccupping sound at him and lowered its face, the boy crying out and turning his head away as he pressed himself back into the wall hard, points of rock digging into his shoulder blades through the fabric of his shirt.
He waited for something to happen, though he wasn’t sure what. Death maybe? An excruciating pain? Would it be quick? He wasn’t sure what to expect but he kept his eyes glued shut and continued to press back into the surface, afraid of what may or may not come. A few beats passed and he felt some sort of warm air wash over him, then another, and another; like something was breathing on him.
Then soon he felt something wet and rough drag itself across his cheek and he let out a startled noise, obviously not expecting something to touch him. He heard a familiar grunt, and he allowed one eye to peek open just in time to see the stag veer in at him and lick at his cheek again. He gave a startled noise and leaned his head back before he noticed the daunting presence of the beast’s face, within arm’s reach of him.
He gasped out and pressed back again, ignoring the pain digging into his back. The beast blinked and let out another hiccupping sound, nudging forward at him as if… Reassuring him. The boy squinted a bit and stared, unsure what the right call of action should be. It didn’t seem to have any ill intent towards him but he wasn’t sure he should just dive in and trust it because it wasn’t jumping at the first chance to bite him in half.
“Tu ne me feras pas de mal?” He asked reluctantly, allowing himself to relax slightly as it tilted its head a bit, as if interested by his words. It grunted at him lightly and leaned closer, he stiffened a bit but braved up enough will to raise a hand and shakily reach out to it. The beast didn’t move, its eyes studying him as he struggled to allow himself to touch the bridge between its gaping nostrils, the creature’s skin leathery and smoother than he had expected it to be. Not that he knew what to expect in the first place.
He patted at it unsurely, not really knowing what else to do. It gave a huff, seemingly pleased by his ministrations. All of a sudden it opened its mouth and he gave out a startled gasp, withdrawing his hand and bringing it to his chest, watching as its teeth and tongue were exposed to him, his eyes catching a pair of fangs sheathed within the top palate of its mouth, much like a snakes would be, so hopefully that meant it wasn’t attacking. It darted its tongue out at him and dragged it up his body as a sign as what he supposed to be affection, copying the actions of the stag from earlier.
It had a rough, slightly sharp tongue. It was like rubbing against wet sandstone and the boy could feel it leave a few scrapes in its wake but he decided to give it an appreciative smile rather than depict any sort of discomfort to it. It nudged at his body with the tip of its snout, sniffing eagerly at him. Judging by its reaction, it hadn’t seen one of his kind in years, or perhaps ever. It was excited and barked rather enthusiastically. The boy might’ve considered it cute if it weren’t for the fact that this thing was the size of a small mountain and could eat him whole if it so pleased.
He gave a weak and nervous chuckle as he pushed on its snout, relieved it wasn’t annoyed by him wanting to distance himself from it. It gave him space and lifted its head high, shuffling its body backwards towards the water.
While the boy could finally allow himself to breathe he looked back at the stag that watched him keenly and he smiled, reaching out to it and scratching behind its ear which made it give out another audible purr. He continued to pet it and looked around, noticing what he was pressed up against was a large piece of debris from what seemed to be a statue. The shape was the face of some animal with antlers, one of which were broken off. He then took in the rest of his environment, his hand stilling as he gaped. It seemed to be a gateway of sorts, giant pillars shaped as stags with their fore legs up lining the walls that seemed to stretch for ages and holding up an overhanging ceiling. He backed up a bit as he looked at it, noting where he’d been pressed up against was the lining walls of an entrance stairway to new territory. In the middle of the row of statued stags he saw a large door, on either side stood two figured statues of the same water beast.
The gears in his head started to turn before he spun around to look at the water beast that floated at the edge of the stairway that was flooded with water, much like the rest of the metropolis, watching him patiently. It then made sense and his eyes grew wide with excitement, approaching it in a speed walk.
“Tu es le gardien?! C'est ce que vous êtes, n'est-ce pas?” He asked it excitedly and it stared down at him, unmoving. It made so much sense. Of course this mystical beast was the Guardian, or at least one of them. He looked back at the pillars that showed two of them before he looked back at it. “C'est juste toi?” He asked it and it blinked at him. He wasn’t sure it understood him but it didn’t matter, he was too excitable to try and distinguish from small gestures the answers to his questions.
His mentor no doubt would’ve scolded him for not maintaining some kind of control but that was the least of his worries. He was in the presence of the Guardian of the metropolis, how could he possibly begin to contain himself?
“Magnifique!” He gleamed to the stag and then turned back to the Guardian who continued to watch him.
He ran his mouth to the Guardian. Asking it all the questions he’d been wondering his whole life. Barely sparing a breath between his questions and receiving no answers in return but he couldn’t help himself. He would dart back and forth between the stag and the Guardian, asking so many questions he knew they had no way of answering and there was no indication that they understood a word he was saying, not that he expected them to. There was so much he wanted to know, he didn’t know where to start, so even if they had the ability to understand him or even answer him they wouldn’t have had the chance.
Once he managed to catch his breath he spun around and looked to the doors, a smile gracing over his lips and he started to rush towards it, climbing the stairs two steps at a time before he reached them at last. He scaled the length of it before he pressed his palms against the surface, pushing as hard as he could to no avail. He grunted out in disappointment and looked up at the handles that were about two feet above his head. He glared and leaped for it, grabbing onto the handle before attempting to yank back, but that gave even less way than when he pushed it. He yanked again and again until he fell off and tumbled down a few steps.
He was up within a second and returned to the top of the steps, placing his hands against it and trying his luck in pushing it again. He must’ve spent several minutes just ramming himself up against the doors, and after who knows how long he decided something must be blocking it from the other side.
He stepped back and heaved, his eyes glaring at this barrier preventing him from seeing more. He heard the Guardian bark at him, as if trying to get his attention. He turned to look back at it, seeing it almost jump in the water, swinging its front fins and clapping at its body. It was telling him to come to it. He frowned and looked to the door once more before decidedly trekking down the stairs towards it.
He reached the base of the stairs and looked to the stag that stared back at him, his hand reaching out and gently touching its snout which seemed to please it as it leaned into his touch with its eyes closed. He looked up at the Guardian who drifted itself to the side, showing its back to him. It took him a few moments to figure out what it was telling him. He blinked, startled once an answer came to mind.
It wanted him to ride it?
Of all the damnedest things. He could barely accept he’d ridden the stag, now he would be riding a water monster? Now he was certain he was either crazy or dead. He was surprised at how fast he’d taken the offer, retracting his hand that was still absentmindedly petting the stag before he mounted the back of the Guardian. As he’d expected, the skin of it was much like how it felt when he pet its snout, leathery and wet. For a moment he imagined that skin like this would’ve made a significant price on the black market.
He purged that barbaric thought the moment it popped in his head, knowing he should be honoured to be given this opportunity rather than thinking about how he’d benefit from things like skinning it.. Not that he’d be able to do such a thing in the first place. It didn’t wait long before it started to move through the water, and the boy found himself more prepared for it to move than he had with the stag, which was trotting as close as it could alongside them on the stairs.
It moved like a boat sailing against waves; the front bashing the water and swopping down before going back up then down. He could imagine these motions could soon cause him to feel seasickness, so he hoped that their journey would be done sooner rather than later, as marvellous as this was.
The Guardian swam along the side of the stairs and then to the walls, bringing itself to a stop by it before it tilted its head to look at him. He stared back up at it, wondering what was meant to happen now. It barked at him and nudged its head at the top of the wall, his eyes following before he looked back at the Guardian. Did it want him to climb it? He wasn’t sure but it seemed it expected him to be able to somehow reach the top of the wall. It wasn’t like he could just get on its head and reach for the walls.
The Guardian gave a short huffing noise and turned its long neck to the side and lowered, giving him a viable chance to be able to walk along its neck and get to its head. Oh, so it was serious? It wanted him to stand on its head and climb to the top of the wall.
He didn’t know why he was so forthcoming with just accepting these outrageous offers because before his mind could really think to catch up with his actions, he was already walking along the neck of the creature, his arms spread out like he were a tight rope walker. He nearly felt himself tip over the edge and stumbled forward, able to grasp onto the beast’s antlers, clinging to them like a lifeline.
He looked down at its eyes which were peering up at him and he opened his mouth to apologise for walking all over it but before he could it started to raise its head, the sudden pressure and speed of being elevated caused him to nearly topple right off but he grasped the tree-like antlers and held on for dear life. His eyes shut themselves tight as the wind blew into his ears and he subconsciously lowered himself to his knees. The journey was over faster than it had even started but to him it felt like several minutes.
Once they were still he peeked his eyes open, which soon widened in bewilderment when he realised he could see over the wall entirely. The top of the Guardians nose reached the very edge of the wall and when he looked down he could see its body towering over the stag pillars, it was leaning itself up, fins in the air as it balanced; and for a moment it looked similar to its own statue self, tall and powerful and much more impressive than that rock could be.
Over the wall he could see a whole city beyond, although nearly submerged in water, most of the buildings stood tall and proud, not yet fallen to ruin like the side he was on. The sun glistened down on the metropolis, golden rays reflecting off the waters surface. He could see Greek sculptured statues at the front of each mansion lining a long road which lead to a distant building shaped like an observatory. It was like it was just out of his reach and subconsciously he leaned a hand out towards the horizon, completely mesmerised by the view of it all.
What his mentor wouldn’t do just to get a glimpse of this… What his Madame wouldn’t do…
He needed to see more, he yearned for it. He was like a starving man; just out of reach of the best feast he’d ever seen before.
He let go of the Guardian’s antlers and walked forward on its snout, taking a leap of faith towards the wall and luckily landing just on the very edge of it. He felt so light and so happy as he stuck that landing, ready to drink another fill of the view but his glory was short lived as the ground he stood on started to give in barely moments after he’d landed. He tried to avoid falling by making jumps to the side but it appeared the entire structure was about to collapse and soon the floor gave way below him.
He was surprisingly silent when he fell, his arms desperately darting out and gripping onto whatever edge was left for him to grasp. He heard the stag and the Guardian make noises in their startlement, worried for their newfound friends safety. For a moment he looked up from his dangling position at the near blocked view of the metropolis, just barely making out the top of the observatory before the piece he clung to broke off and he was sent flying right back down to the Earth. Perhaps if he hadn’t made those scrambling steps at the top, he would’ve just fallen into the water, but his brief glance down as he fell showed that he was about to hit the stairs.
He could hear the Guardian dart itself out at him as it tried to catch him in its jaws. He heard an audible chomp as it missed, and for that second he was a little relived it hadn’t caught him, though he knew the intention was to save him and not hurt him.
It was strange, his fall must’ve only lasted a few seconds before he landed on his side but for him, it felt like a lifetime, and for possibly the third time that day, his life flashed before his eyes. When he did land, he landed on his arm on the corner of the top step and in that instant, with that ground shattering pain he knew immediately he must’ve broken it and possibly a few ribs, then his head hit the flat of the top of the stairs and he was out like a light.
When he finally came to, it was dark and for a moment he was convinced he was dead, but the pain he felt grounded him into believing he must be alive.
He blinked a few times, not moving as he allowed his eyes to adjust, then he realised he was staring up at the sky, nearly black with a small clump of stars scattering the dark canvas. He turned his head a bit and then realised he was a lot warmer than he would’ve expected having been left unconscious on the cold hard ground. He then found the source of his warm when he turned his head to the side slightly and noted that the stag was curled up against him. His movement must’ve alerted it that he was awake because its head shot up and looked down at him, letting out a few shrieks at him, as if asking him if he was okay. It seemed worried and despite the near unbearable pain he felt in that moment, his heart warmed at that.
He did a quick status check of his body once he whispered that he was okay to the stag, which seemed to be enough for it to stop its whining and then it affectionately lapped at his face as if saying thank goodness, you’re okay. His left arm was definitely broken, he couldn’t move it without invoking a crippling amount of pain, he touched at his left side and felt a viscous bruising, he assumed he must’ve cracked a few ribs if not broken them. His vision was blurry and it felt like the world was spinning while his head thumped with pain like he had a hangover, he decided he might’ve given himself a concussion. He could still move his legs miraculously; his arm took the brunt of the damage. Despite the insufferable amount of pain, he was alive.
For a split second he thanked the Gods for allowing him to continue living his life.
He looked down at his useless arm for a moment and looked around, using his one good hand to clumsily tear at the base of his shirt, it would’ve been an embarrassing display, him wrestling his shirt with one hand to tear a long strip off before he persevered with extreme pain to tie each end together into a knot then pulled it over his head and stuck in his broken arm to hang at the bottom of it in a makeshift sling. It wasn’t the best but it was better than letting his arm dangle at his side and allow itself to become more dislodged than it already was.
He looked around slowly, fast movements seemed to cause his head to spin more so he kept his motions slow as to avoid fainting or vomiting. He noticed the Guardian was missing, but that was the least of his concerns right now. As much as he wanted to try again and reach that city, he needed to get medical help first, the metropolis will have to wait a bit longer.
He struggled to his feet, the stag offering its antlers as support to get him up which he audibly appreciated. He staggered on his feet, there was no way he was going to be able to walk back. He had to get back to his horse, he would know how to get home with or without the boys aid, assuming he hadn’t just left on his own, but the boy doubted that; he was a loyal friend.
He cursed softly and gripped his head, stumbling a bit and the stag caught him with its side before he could fall. He thanked it with tentative pats, watching as it took his ministrations of thanks before it decidedly lowered itself to the ground, offering for him to get on. He assumed the stag meant to take him back to the entrance of the cave, and perhaps if he was in a better mind, he would’ve considered the possibility the stag might not take him there, but acting like a drunken man, he climbed onto the stag wordlessly and basically let his body melt into it, giving in his faith to it as he practically passed out on it again, having half a mind to lightly hold on with his one good arm.
He could barely recall the water seeping into his pantlegs again, and his senses worked in splotches, one moment he was there, then the next he was out then he’d open his eyes again and they were in water, then the next they were above water, and the next they were trotting through the cave.
He came back to when he heard the stag snort at him, his eyes shooting open in startlement and he nearly fell off of it, but he managed to balance himself by grasping a handful of its fur. He blinked through his blurred vision and looked around, barely recognising the trees and greenery, before he spotted the same fallen trunk from earlier and at last he saw his steed, which he had barely heard neighing at him desperately to get his attention. He was a few feet from them, clearly unnerved by the stag but readily working himself up to fight for the boy if he needed to.
Relief and joy flushed through him as he saw the familiar face and he reached his hand out to him, needing the presence of his horse.
“Mi amour!” He cried out, struggling to get off the stag who lowered himself for the boys convenience, who gratefully stumbled off of it and trekked perhaps a bit too speedily towards the black and white horse who met him halfway, whining and groaning at him as he sniffed at his hair and brushed his face against the boy’s. The boy kissed his snout and the star shaped mark on his head and hummed affectionate words to him, reassuring him that he was okay and that he was there.
He hugged his horse with his good arm and nuzzled his face into his neck, smelling that familiar scent that he could only distinguish as his horse’s smell.
“Je suis ici mon amour. Rentrons à la maison maintenant cher ami”, he cooed to him and the horse grunted in understanding, recognising the boy was in no shape to start pulling on any of the usual equipment so he lowered himself, the boy climbing onto his horse bareback.
Blearily the boy looked back at the stag who stood at the entrance, watching with an almost thoughtful gaze and the boy managed a crooked smile as he rose his hand to it to say goodbye. He promised it he would be back and it bowed its head as if understanding and soon it turned and made its way back into the gaping cave while the boy’s horse started their journey back home.
It wasn’t long before the boy lost consciousness once more, with the promise of returning once more to this land. Perhaps he’d bring the Madame this time?
He smiled at the thought.
Sure enough, he’d be back, one way or another. He would conquer the metropolis.
That was a promise.
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