But for a Slime

* * *

Xylarnae shivered, her layers of clothing barely enough to hold cold of night at bay. She rested on the most comfortable part of the trash pile while she plied the depths of Fate, struggling to hold her despair at bay. Her tormentor was after Xylarnae and it took everything in Xylarnae’s power to keep free from her. If Xylarnae ever fell into that one's hands, Fate had long shown the depths of the horror that would be visited both on Xylarnae and the world at large.

Xylarnae's struggles to escape had driven her ever further and further away until she’d ended up on this forsaken plane and then even further forsaken as a dirty peasant desperately living on a pile of trash, Fate showing ever lessening avenues of escape.

She’d been able to save her halves, guiding them to a safe location far from danger but at the cost to her own. However, her Fate was greater and she’d accomplished for her selves what she could not for herself. She shivered again and turned to pull her covers tightly around her, the night growing colder with time.

When she had arrived here, she struggled to search the stars, seeking Fate again and again, but the stars remained unusually silent, distant to her pleas. Her hope had held true for almost a year but soon grew weak, shallow against the ever narrowing possibilities of escape. And now, her choices grew shorter, narrower, and weaker, ever smaller in scope, length of freedom, and options for future escape. And now, she was brought up short against her ultimate sacrifice, the only hope to keep herself out of their hands.

Suddenly, the very air crystalized, stilling to no movement, clarity erasing the fog in the air even as the walls and earth seemed to darken and fade, losing all color. Fate shattered the stillness of the fabric of reality even as it raged around her, stronger than she’d felt in a long, long time. In the stars above, she felt her hope manifest, a strange vessel of a kind she’d never seen floated. In it, base humans scurried in their work, preparing large globes of some kind. They pressed them into the void, removing them one at a time, and in one, Fate screamed at her. She saw its approach, knew its Fate, and suddenly knew the limits of the Fate given to it. It will fail! A small base human pressed against the globe holding the Fated, copious amounts of sweat fell to the floor. Fate once again echoed like crystal, calling to her. Her Fated globe came, prepared for its journey, a failed journey. She reached out with her Fate touch, a small working with little impact. A large brute of a man manhandled the Fate globe into position, and her small touch twanged against his knee. The hitch was enough to pull his step short, and the man hammered his foot down upon the splotch of sweat. The surprise had him stagger, the sweat had him losing his balance, and his stumble slammed into the Fated's globe. It lurched from the vessel into the void, its fate now slightly altered.

With that, Fate settled, and the air around her softened, the foggy night returning even as color returned to all physical objects. Xylarnae quivered, cursing, then leapt to her feet. The call of Fate had been so great she knew it could not be hidden. Casting a touch of Fate behind her, she cleaned any residue that might reveal her and fled. She sped down the alley she was in and came upon a small dead end, intending to flee directly past it, but Fate returned once again, a soft subtle waft guiding her, and she immediately followed her Fate. The small alleyway ended in a roundabout of poor houses with a tiny well, an extravagant luxury, backed into a corner between two doors, next to which sat a small wash basin used by many of the women of the half a dozen homes in this small spur.

Fate flowed around the well and into the wash basin, and she immediately scurried to the well, turning her movement into the deliberate hurried effort of a busy person. She drew the water and passed it into the basin before taking off her various clothing, dropping into the basin for washing.

The wash basin had been deliberately tucked around a corner to allow privacy to the women as they washed, so she felt a bit more comfortable being in her underdress, but she couldn’t bring herself to shuck her underdress, let alone her shift. It proved enough, as Fate calmed and faded, and she began washing her clothes, a normal woman doing her duty, if very late at night.

As expected, only moments later, a Presence swelled and stirred in the alleyway she’d slept in, a fate not of a kind for her, but the fate of the passing of greatness. A person of great Presence had arrived, and stirred through Fate like the passing of a billowing ship. She tensed, listening cautiously to Fate, but soon relaxed when she realized the Presence was not Fate touched. Only the power of their Presence left an impression upon Fate, billowing and stirring Fate in eddies.

She turned her attention back to her washing, grunting as she put effort into her wash while singing softly under her breath. A quiet humming of a woman without care. Moments later, the Presence was by her side, but polite enough to remain behind the curve of the wall to offer some modicum of privacy.

“Woman,” a soft gruff growl echoed into her area.

She leapt to her feet in a cry, terror racing through her body as she spun to face the corner of the wall, a hand pressing up to her breasts even as she breathed heavily, struggling to withhold her fear.

“Ah! Who!”

The Presence immediately billowed, wallowing in some shocked embarrassment.

“Apologies. I… had no intention of causing… such fear.”

“Ah… master!” Xylarnae breathed with fear, “I did not hear you there. I apologize for my poor greeting.”

“There is no need for apology. I simply seek for news.”

“News, milord?”

“Yes. There was a great disturbance in the alleyway just here only moments ago. Do you have any … news of such?’

Xylarnae knit her eyebrows in confusion, her heart calming with the question, then, with Fate’s hint, speeding up again slightly, “Disturbance? No… is it… is … are we in danger?”

The man sighed, “I think not, miss. I believe they are long gone now.”

“They!? There is more than one? Should we flee…”

“Calm yourself, woman. All is well and the city is well kept. Do you have news.”

Xylarnae kept her heart beating just slightly fast, “I… no. I know of no news around here, milord.”

The Presence paused, thoughtful, then faded. Xylarnae remained there, attentive before calling out once again.

“Milord? Is there more?”

She stepped forward to the corner tentatively.

“Milord? Milord!?”

She stuck her head around the corner and found the small courtyard empty as she knew it would be, but she, cautious as ever, maintained her efforts.

“Milord!”

She stared there for a bit before turning away, grumbling under her breath, “What’s this… so rude. To come and interrupt a woman’s cleaning, terrify her right out of her clothes, then leave without so much as a proper good bye? Just you watch! You better hope I do not find your mother or your mother will give you proper lessons! Lessons beaten directly into your skin!”

She kept her tirade of grumbles going even as she returned to her cleaning. Over the next half a Great Bell, her grumbling faded and soon her soft humming song returned as she gave her clothing the deep cleaning they deserved. Around her, Fate held its breath, unmoving and silent as the Presence maintained a small amount of attention upon the courtyard but still politely gave her her privacy. At least he is kind in this! Her cleaning came to an end, and she began bundling up her laundry. She took the first she’d cleaned, it having been hanging to dry for almost the entire Great Bell, and clothed herself in it. It wasn’t a luxury in any way, but was a clean and respectable dress for one living in the streets and alleyways where she found herself now. The rest of the laundry she draped, still wet, over her arm and held it out to the side so as to not get wet.

She left the cul de sac and paused at the entrance, fearfully checking for any thieves or ruffians before walking out and away from her previous bed. That… was a nice bed! The nicest one here! Despite her anger, her busy efforts to return ‘home’ never faltered, and soon Fate began to eddy once again as it should. Only a few moments later, Fate returned to its proper and full chaos. She did not stop moving nor stop playing her part. She made it to the major intersections of the city, still half crowded with night life, but it would be dwindling soon, and she struggled to find another resting place.

As she stared around the square, Fate echoed off the front of a small inn and she grimaced. I can’t waste my money! Despite her worry over funds, she immediately headed to the inn and entered, seeking a room for the night. There were few rooms offered, especially so late, and she had the poor luck of receiving the tiniest and most worthless room. Despite that, Fate glittered over the key and she strode confidently to her room. When she crossed the threshold, her eyes widened in shock even as Fate shuddered, hallowed out, condensed, then blossomed to take in the entirety of the city, even the plane.

Fate runes! She turned to study the poorly drawn runes staggered up the door posts and in the eight corners of the room. Her fear spiked then calmed when she quickly noticed the silencing runes. She grimaced, disconcerted and upset at their poor construction. Despite that, she felt herself relax for the first time in a very long time. I can rest… and I can call on Fate without fear… for a while.

She immediately stripped herself bare but for her shift, and hung everything to dry before collapsing to bed. She did not fall asleep. Fate would call upon her at least one more time. The globe’s Fate had not been completed, and she had much work to do.

As she expected, Fate called upon her two more times, and with the second, Fate withdrew, satisfied. And she, despite her exhaustion, could not sleep. Her joy vibrated through her as for the first time in decades, her Fate shone with golden joy, a future of great providence, even happiness. And Fate’s work had the globe landing safely near a small unassuming city not far from her.

She settled in her bed, crumpling in exhaustion. Much of the work was done, yet not all was and just as she was about to drift into sleep, Fate swirled once again. Xylarnae moaned, not even opening her eyes and simply turned her Fate’s touch to its call. Huh… just a simple distraction? OK. Think on shelter, water, and food! Survive! She only had to reach out with Fate once more before Fate receded, its retreat final in a way that she knew as rest. With that, she finally collapsed into sleep.

* * *

Deep in the gravity well of a gas giant, on its largest moon, twenty six strange pods pierced through the sky, tumbling before finally opening up parachutes to slow their descent, one more than the director had predicted having slipped into the shadow of a small asteroid, obscuring it from the ships primitive light telescopic sensors.

However, of those twenty six, four parachutes failed to deploy or failed to slow their pods sufficiently because of tangled lines, ripped chutes, and badly timed chute deployment, tangling the chute up in or around the pods. Another three deployed chutes and came in safely, but landed in incredibly inhospitable locations, two in the far north, and one in the desert, all three dying only days later. Eleven landed safely in the water. However, nine found themselves in the deep ocean and died several weeks later from starvation or exposure. One landed within sight of land, but was overwhelmed by a great rainless tropic storm, and smashed up against the rocks under the unrelenting pounding of the storm. The last made it to shore where he was killed by the local populace. One landed safely in a mountainous area, but then tumbled down the mountain side and finally fell over a several hundred meter cliff and did not survive the second fall. Of the twenty six pods that made successful insertion into the atmosphere, only seven specimens survived longer than a year, scattered across the globe. Of the seven, only three would survive the second year.