Happenstance

Nicole had been scavenging all day, walking from each wreck to the next, tearing out wires, metal, circuit boards from the corpses of shipwrecks. It was fairly menial. This was what she did for a living- taking the old framework of shells to craft them into something new. All things considered, it was a decent job full of danger, mystery, and intrigue. 

Or, to anyone else, it would be. From the people Nicole had talked to, the general impression of a scavenger was that monster attacks were frequent (they weren't), battles were really badass and cool (they really weren't), and that anyone who was a scrapper was the equivalent of a treasure hunter. The last one was a common misconception that Nicole didn't really have an answer to. 

What was she supposed to say? Monsters were smart enough to veer away from anyone- especially if enough noise was made; the worst fight that she had ever seen was a drunken fistfight that had both parties wheeling past each other to fall on their faces; and most days, Nicole went to the same wrecks that she had for months. There were no traps, no harrowing escapes or daring fights. 

Maybe it was because she looked like the sort who would have a Cool Adventure. She had brown skin that held the sun's glow, and tight curly brown hair flew in a cloud around her head, little wiry locs the shape of tornados framing her face and bouncing into her eyes. Glitters of whiskey gold flecked sturdy brown eyes that held stories, whispers from the earth and rumors carried on the wind. But she didn't think of herself as much. She was a scrapper with days that were mundane and fairly boring. 

Except for today. Today was shaping up to be… Interesting. 

Nicole stood planted on top of her new find, hand on hip, wire wrapped bat obvious, cold brown eyes glaring down at the intruders below her. A small group stared back at her. They were city scrappers with blue dyed hair, red and orange streaking their clothes and marking them as the Keerser scrappers from past the valley. This was strange. Most of them she didn't know, but she definitely did know the leader. They had done some trading when she was last in the city. He was a short man, eyes wrinkled with crows feet and lines carved into his face with time, black streaked hair pulled back in a loose braid, pierced ears and a dust-stained jacket adorned with shiny metal baubles. 

"Varsik," she called. "I haven't seen you in awhile. It must be an occasion if you're venturing into my territory." 

Varsik's mouth opened- and then immediately shut. His jaw worked as he thought of what to say. Scrapper territory was all but sacred- Nicole had a right to be upset. "Yeah- yeah, it's something." A smile was offered, palms up and eyes soft. A peace offering. "Why don't you come down, little bird, and we can work something out?" 

Nicole shrugged. "As long as y'all don't touch anything." Her steps echoed on the cold metal shell of the hull and she shot a good-natured glare towards the group as she passed them. "If you do, I'll leave you here for the Hoozrei to eat," Nicole said with a wink. A Keerser shuffled backward nervously as a murmur spread amongst the youngest like a plague. The second her back was to them, the teasing smirk on her face grew into a small chuckle and she muffled a giggle. 

Varsik shook his head, arms crossing. "You're a tease," he said. "Frightening the young ones like that? Shame on you." It was an attempt at lightheartedness. Truth be told, it didn't come out quite right- he sounded resigned, on the edge of defeat. The smile didn't meet his eyes. 

Nicole smirked, albeit somewhat apologetically, flicking some hair out of her face. "I couldn't resist, I'm sorry." Her eyes leveled a steady gaze at the other. "How're things, Varsik? Why are you here? You'd better have a good reason." 

He was tense, shoulders wound up in a bear trap that was ready to spring, muscles set in hard form, his fingers slipping on the jewelry that dangled from his wrists. The bracelets glittered in graceful loops. They were set with the polished silver of burnt ship metal and coils of golden copper wires that could only be what remained of his wrecks, carefully crafted and made with the care of guiding hands. Every bit of polished metal was a mark of accomplishment. He was a leader. He was successful. So why was he here? 

"I-" he started and then stopped. "We're-we're being pushed out. Some Casers came and- well, now we can't get to our usual paths." Varsik looked at the group behind them, eyes softening as he watched them laugh and tease amongst themselves. "I can't leave them with nothing and it's getting harder to find the scrap that's worth anything. 

"Begging is… unseemly, I know. But I thought, if anyone would let us scavenge on their land, it would be you." A small smile cracked his face, tentatively hopeful as he searched Nicole's face. "If only for old times sake? Think of all the hot meals we made for you." 

"Hmph." Her eyes narrowed. Did he think that he could waltz in and start taking from her? It was practically stealing! Nicole's mouth twisted into a grimace, sighing at herself. As much as she disliked the intrusion, Varisk was a friend of a sort; she wasn’t about to tell him to leave. Obviously, whatever happened was enough to convince him that the best course of action was to practically invade her privacy. She couldn't fault him for that. Nicole knew how much he bled for others; once upon a time, she had been lost in the city and Varsik had given her a roof over her head and a place to sleep. Besides, she wasn't heartless. He really only wanted to provide for the people who depended on him. 

"Well, I suppose I do have a reputation for being soft." Nicole half-shrugged, gently patting him on the arm in what she hoped was a reassuring gesture. "I'll give you a map to some wrecks you can take with you. But," she lifted a warning finger, "You have to be out by dark. Deal?" 

The consequences were implicit in her voice. There were enough stories about this forest that everyone was wary of it, even the ones who lived there. What she gave him was caution; it was easy to get lost, to get hurt, to be consumed in the gentle, caressing leaves and warm earth. The forest ran deep. It was carved into the soil, spreading its influence and touching places, towns, lives. If anything happened, then there was little she could do to help them. It took what it wanted. Who was she to stand in its way? 

Varsik nodded to her, his hand extending in gratitude. "Thank you. We'll be out by dark and I promise you won't hear from us while we dismantle. Quiet as mice." Already, he seemed lighter, kinder in his reassurance that his team wouldn't be starving. It was a breath of relief. 

Nicole's heart fluttered in her chest with worry. Did he know it was only temporary? Was he deliberately ignoring the impending tragedies? What would happen once they had to leave? The pressure of empathy pulled at her. "Of course," she said. Her voice sounded distant, hollow, the touch of his hand on hers sharp and electric. It felt like an empty promise; what she gave wouldn't help them. And gods, she wanted to help. She wanted to do more than she could, wanted to give more than she had.  

"Hey." A gentle pressure on her shoulder jerked Nicole out of her thoughts. Varsik smiled at her, "It's okay. Take a breath, alright? We'll be fine- you know how stubborn us city folk can be." He winked at her. The corners of his eyes wrinkled, falling into familiar memories that were deep with shared joy and bubbling happiness. His smile was warm and comforting. "We'll be okay," he said again.

Nicole took a breath, filling her lungs with air that filtered down deep into her chest. A slow exhale breathed out the overwhelming worry, the buzzing anxiety, the black knowledge of mortality. She nodded. "You will." She had to believe that. "I'll get you the map."

An hour later, Nicole found herself deep in the forest. Thick trees towered over her, the gaps between roots creating rifts in the dirt that seemed more like rolling waves; crowns of these lords stifled the sunlight until only the palest streaks slipped through. Silk sheets of moss clothed these old giants, the white pearls of mushrooms as big as her head made up their necklaces and embroidery. It was daunting. It was dangerous. This place, the heart of the forest, was known for its Influence. It sang to the ships that passed over it, to the humans on the edge of its reach, to the earth until it hummed its secrets. Transports and merchants avoided it, shying away like prey from a hungry beast; people ventured into the shallow trees and whispered of the creatures bigger than their homes; the forest was the source of rumor and legend. 

But here Nicole was at a wreck that had gone down the day before. Shame on her. 

Her feet thudded on the cold metal, boots weighing her feet down to drum on the empty ship shell. It was an odd design- sleek and crafted from silver ore that shivered under her. It practically breathed under her footsteps, hesitant to keep its form, even as tattered and broken as it was.

The crash through the canopy of the trees had torn open the sides of the ship. Massive gashes of twisted metal peeled back from the curved bones of the ship, tangled knots of red, black, and blue wires spilling out around the edges. It was sad. The ship was massive and graceful, even in death. It was something new and curious that would have sped through the sky like knife's edge, lighter than the wind that had carried it, faster than the storms that wrecked the stars. 

Nicole wished she had seen it while it was still functioning: it would have been magnificent. 

If she were honest, she almost didn't want to go in. It felt disrespectful somehow. Her intrusion was a desecration to this metal husk, the insertion of something foreign and unwanted like a disease. But the ship was so still- there was no lingering hum of electricity, no creak of metal under the weight of itself, no stirring of the wind from outside. It was silent. Dead. 

No, that was absurd. How many other wrecks had she been in? Many of those had been quiet too- this wasn't that unusual. Ships weren’t alive by any means. They were objects to be controlled, guided by the sure hands of a pilot. Besides, this far into the woods meant that everything was quiet, not just the ship. 

But Nicole couldn't shake the unsteady nerves that had settled over her. 

There was no reason for her to feel this way. The ship was empty. Nicole walked from ruined room to ruined room, keen eyes picking out the metal sheets, the shimmer of green wire, the sapphire blue of screens. The door to the cockpit was crumpled, cracked open in the recoil of the impact, pressed into the earth by the sky, pulled down by the reaching hands of the forest. Everything was compressed; shattered glass and metal jutted up, mechanical thorns in the hollow heart of this corpse. Bleeding wires hung from the jagged corners of gutted panels. There was something wrong. She could feel it in the air. It was a static that coated the inside of her lungs, settled into pricks on her skin. 

The faintest streaks of twitching red flickered in her sight, just the smallest pull of her Influence telling her that there was something- someone there. Nicole could see the crumpled form of someone, clothes ripped and red with blood, half hid under debris. But the closer she got, a deep feeling of uncertainty dug its fingers into the pit of her stomach. They were so still.  

The uncertainty deepened. A thin, selfish instinct nagged at the edges of her mind with the thought that she should go. But Nicole couldn't leave. How many bodies had she seen tangled in the wreckage? How many people had she helped after a crash? How many hadn't she helped? There had been too many close calls that left her wishing she had been just moments faster. If there were someone here, she couldn't leave them. This one, here, now- they could be alive. They could be hurt. She didn't dare to think that they might be dead. 

Gently, she brushed the hair away from their face. They were a boy, hair black as ink, angled eyes shut. She prayed that he wasn't dead- he couldn't be. Nicole placed her fingers under his jaw, desperately searching for the hope of a heartbeat. The pulse of blood under her fingertips, the strong, steady rhythm of life, made her breathe a sigh of relief. There was a chance he was only unconscious. "Maybe you'll be lucky," she murmured. 

It didn't seem like he was. The boy looked foreign and rich. Transparent silk sleeves had settled against his arms and a yellow collar with glimmering red stones pressed against his neck- he looked elegant, even as the outfit was ripped and torn. Nicole grimaced. He was a Caser- someone from the starships that hovered above her world, part of a world made of marble walls in pearl white castles, all but untouchable. They practically never came down from their artificial palaces.  

He was just a few years younger than she was, hair black as ink, and skin far too pale to be healthy. Was this what Casers looked like all the time? Sun-starved, dainty as ceramic, and thin as if they never had enough food to eat.   

But the longer she looked at him, Nicole slowly became aware of a slight red that bled out of his skin in a halo. It sparked across his body like it was part of him. It made his form shiver into streaks of bright green and blue, into red scrolling lines that slid his arm into fragments. Stained static buzzed in a smeared shadow of the boy before it vanished like a sigh, taking an invisible pressure with it. 

She started, jerking back in surprise, scrambling back some steps with haste. What was that- what happened? What happened to him? Nicole's chest tightened in curious dread, her mouth drawing into a thin line. That- whatever that was- that wasn’t normal. It wasn’t even unusual- it was just downright wrong. It was a broken imitation of this boy who now obviously wasn't human. He was something else. What if he were dangerous? Had she walked into a trap? A smaller part of her wondered if it really was nothing. Nicole backed away, her muscles ready to snap into defense, fingers curling around the solid metal of her bat. Just what the hell was happening?  

His form twitched into existence, the image of the boy clicking together like so many puzzle pieces. It started at his fingers, crawled up his shoulders, his back, with so many skittering legs before arcing into him one last time. His fingers curled with consciousness and he sat up, dazed eyes blinking in the shadowed room for a moment. His eyes found Nicole with ease. She couldn’t tear her stare away from him: his eyes were a deep, dark red and they stabbed through her in the darkness. The boy’s head tilted, thin streaks of warbling blue static filling the space between them as he spoke. 

“Who are you? And where- where am I?”