Welcome to Gaia! ::

“Oh, you give them so much credit, General.” Almadel sipped at his own cup but by the time he set it down, it was empty.

“If they had more knowledge, why wouldn’t they leave their findings somewhere easy to locate? It seems negligent, no? Maybe they knew as little as you. Maybe they were panicking to save their worlds too.”

His tail danced behind him and he poured himself another glass of cider.

“Well, I’m just speculating, of course. But you’ve come a long way since the last time they had to deal with any sort of threat like this, haven’t you? Certainly you’ve got some defense mechanisms in place. What, a giant space net, maybe? Naturally, I will help where I can. You know I like Earth. But I’m afraid I don’t understand the questions enough to give you any answers. I’ve heard stories, you know, of all sorts of things. You can’t trust everything someone tells you. Even if I have information to share, there’s no telling what’s true and what’s fantasy. Believe me when I say, there are a lot of big things in the universe to be afraid of. That, my friend, is a fact. If I were you, I’d pump up my shields and start firing the biggest weapon I’ve got. But go on, you can ask questions. I'll try to help. Just, not so many all at once.”

Almadel topped off Benioite’s cup.

“Truthfully, and I mean this with the utmost sincerity–I don’t know who built the prison you’re describing.” At this, he sounded sincere, if not a bit exasperated. “Let me see the pictures you took. I don’t think that’ll mean anything to me–I really don’t go into active prisons. I mean, not unless I’m being paid a lot, and usually even then, it’s not for what you’re describing. What I do know is that you are describing a building you can’t identify, in a location you don’t know, housing something you can’t describe–I can work miracles, but even this is a bit much for me. I’m trying,” he insisted, and this much seemed to be something of the truth because he looked at Benitoite very intently.

“First, being sucked into some hidden domain–that’s not common, not without trying to do it. So there’s no telling where you went. It sounds like a pocket of space just opened up and pulled you in, so really–you could have wound up anywhere. And when it comes to large serpents-oh, Benitoite, there’s so many. And it depends on your interpretation of serpent, too! If you mean, ‘lizard with no legs’, I can still think of–well, so many. And if it has two legs? Four? A hundred? I know stories about those, too. But I could go on for days, probably, just telling stories. I still might not know anything about the one you’re thinking of.”

He leaned against the glass case and apparently had made himself comfortable, preparing for a long conversation.

“Maybe because you’re from Earth, you don’t realize how big space is. And people–and things–have been around for a very long time. Hundred, thousands, millions, billions of years.” He shrugged.

“The spike you were trying to show me–what did you say about it? Maybe I can tell you about that. Maybe. But you hold it, I don’t want to touch it.”

Almadel had leaned in to better see the pictures, and he squinted at them as he began to scrutinize them, but again he half-turned away as if to avoid the spike as much as possible.

“You can treat me to a meal, of course. I’ll make sure you know when I’m in town next,” Almadel said, maybe in an effort to keep Benitoite positive. There just had to be a next time.

“Will you be a dear and press that button for me? Technology and I don’t always get along.” Almadel smiled sweetly but seemed quite comfortable waiting for Benitoite to oblige. As he did so, Almadel continued, “I’m afraid the pictures don’t bring much to mind. But I’ll see if I can dig around and find anything useful. It’s not familiar, really? I have a good memory and I can guarantee that I’ve never had art like that in my collection. So you can bet that this is very rare. Possibly not highly sought after, though? No one’s ever asked me to acquire a world eating serpent. You know, I have seen some storms out in space. But I suppose you already knew that. Is this prison in a storm, did you notice?”

Almadel hummed to himself. He leaned hard on his elbow and cupped his chin in the palm of his hand while he drummed on his cheek contemplatively. “The more you talk about it, the less I understand. I almost wish I was there. But then you make it sound so scary, so no thanks!”

He lazily poured himself another half-cup but his eyes didn’t leave Benitoite’s tablet.

“I suppose I am asking a lot of speculative questions, though. I’m not trying to be difficult. You see, of the storms I’ve seen, they’ve all been a bit away from me, and I haven’t gotten closer. I thought it might make sense if what you were describing was something trapped within the storm. I mean–you see the murals?” he gestured to the tablets. “Doesn’t it look like your little serpent friend has a storm surrounding it, and then it was trapped somehow? I just assumed you were at some site of holding. But this whole thing is confusing. That spike is–you were holding it so comfortably. It doesn’t have any strange effects on you?”

Almadel’s eyes slowly lifted to Benitoite’s. “And if I had a way to see your memories, would you show me? If I could look into your mind and see what you saw, you’d let me in? It’s a very intimate connection, two minds. But I wouldn’t mind a peek into the great General Benitoite’s recollection.”

He poured himself one more glass of cider, downed it, and then shook himself as if to focus.

“I want to help, General. You know I do. I like Earth. I like the people of Earth. Show me what you saw. Tell me what you want from me. Make one request and I will do everything in my power to grant it. For you, my most esteemed general. But ask me plainly so I can give it my full attention. I get distracted very easily. Especially when stressed. And when full of cider. And when you're near enough for me to get so lost in your eyes.”

Instead of being impressed, Almadel laughed. “General Benitoite, are you trying to find a loophole? I do not think you have actually given me a clear request. I said speak plainly and you have spoken in circles, again! Hm,” he glanced at the cider, and then at the General. “Maybe I should have given you something less potent. No matter. Here, take this,” he said, and flicking his wrist he summoned two earrings. One, he put on himself, and the other he clipped onto Benitoite’s ear.

“Think of what you saw and I will see that. I will look through your eyes. But focus, General! You want to know what will help you protect your home planet? Catching this thing. Redirecting it. Trapping it. Killing it. Who cares if someone will ‘allow’ it to be killed–who is going to stop you? The great and powerful Negaverse? If you can find a way to kill it, you should. Besides–wouldn’t Metallia like a trophy? Or bragging rights, at least? If this thing has so much energy, is it not something the Negaverse can use? I thought you all liked that sort of thing. Maybe if you kill it, it’ll be a good warning to all the other things creeping around in the darkness. That would be good for me, I’d like that. Maybe I could visit more often.”

Almadel closed his eyes so he could see better, and seemed ready to view whatever Benitoite shared with him.

Almadel was quiet for a moment, in deep concentration as he observed Benitoite’s memories. Their minds crashed against each other like waves, only every thought of Almadel’s came in like a dark wave. He shared no part of his memory, no thought; there was only darkness.

He watched attentively, like all of his focus had been entirely devoted to seeing. When the memories ended, he carefully removed the earring from Benitoite’s ear and hummed.

“I see,” he said, but he needed a moment longer to process his thoughts. His tail coiled behind him, swaying almost leisurely.

“I see, I see,” he repeated. “Well, you stay here, hold on a moment.”

Almadel made a step to walk away, paused, poured Benitoite and himself another cup of cider, and then left with his cup. When he returned a moment later, he had a book open in one hand and had flipped to a page. The book was ancient, with pages that looked like they were made of leather. Brittle, but preserved, the colors had faded. The text was small and composed of a series of dots, but when Almadel returned to Benitoite’s side, he tilted the book so he could see.

Covering half the page was the silhouette of a creature that looked almost identical to the serpent in the mural. It was too faded to make out fine details, but like the murals, its body was snakelike sans two small arms. It had a snake-shaped head and something that might have been fins along its back and tail. The little details were irrelevant–what was most important was the depiction of a massive lightning bolt erupting from the creature’s mouth.

“What about this? It’s got purple lightning and looks like your mural, doesn’t it? I don’t really understand this text. I can’t loan you the book, I technically have to give this one back, but you can take pictures, can’t you? No flash. There’s a few more pictures, but let me touch the pages.”

“Yes, of course. I’d never hold unusual behavior against someone, I find it quite interesting. You’ve got very good reason to be shaken up, General. I imagine this must be quite startling. I forget you’re all so very young and have seen so very little. But, never here. Your good friend Almadel is here.”

He waited until Benitoite had taken his pictures and then very carefully turned the page again. There were two more images and more unreadable worlds. The smaller picture took up a third of one page; it showed the serpent hovering over a world; it’s mouth was open and another blast of lightning erupted from its mouth, however instead of striking the world below, it seemed to be feeding its lightning into a storm cloud below. Four lightning strikes simultaneously hit the planet.

On the other page, taking up a full spread, the whole world had been shattered into pieces. The artist had painstakingly drawn a hundred or more little glowing diamonds floating around the debris. The serpent’s mouth was open and it looked as if it were preparing to consume everything, but the focal point of the image was on what must have been an artistic representation of the world’s Core.

“Oh,” Almadel was quick to say, “but this probably looks worse than it is, right? I mean, the clouds aren’t big enough to be hiding something this big, don’t you think? But I imagine it’s still very hungry. I mean, it must be starving? Perhaps it is snacking on the way to Earth. Not like there’s much to pick at, if you ask me, but better to go for a morsel than a meal if you can’t guarantee you won’t bite off more than you can chew.”