The second thing the pair of wanderers encountered was a revelation concerning the glowing crystal-like structures that illuminated the forest. As they walked, Chirin took notice of a single low-hanging crystal-light that sat quite a bit to his right. His curiosity overruling his sense of preservation, Chirin made the quick detour to the crystal, squinting at the intensity of its light as he drew closer. Cautiously, Chirin extended a single hand and lightly poked the crystal, only for it to suddenly withdraw from his touch and fold into–

Chirin: “A flower?! These are flowers?!”

Python stood a short way away from him.

Python: “...What did you think it was?”

Chirin: “I thought it was a glowing rock.”

Python: “Pfft. A rock? Those are Light Flowers, Chirin. They make up some of the light source that brightens up the Abyss. Rocks don’t grow from trees. I mean… unless they do in Terra Firma…?”

Chirin: “What?! No! Not at all! That's just weird, and you know it!”

Python: “Then where’s logic in rock trees? Hahahaha!”

Chirin blushed in embarrassment.

Chirin: “Well–! I’m in a new place! And I just assumed that everything would be different–! I mean… we just saw a HUGE boiling lake earlier!”

Python: “Eh. That’s true, but… Chirin… I think you might find that the Abyss isn’t so much different from Terra Firma. It might do you better to assume that whatever rules apply to your world most definitely apply to the Abyss as well.”

Chirin shot the Light Flower a pointed look, recalling the strangeness of the boiling lake, condensation-originating rain, and flowers that glowed like the stars. His gaze drifted to the sky, his eyes narrowing at the brightness.

Chirin: (“It’s so bright… Almost like looking at the sun...”)

Chirin: “...Where does all of the light in the Abyss come from if Light Flowers only make up some of the daylight? If we’re all the way down here in the lowest layer, where the sun doesn’t reach us, then how does it get so bright in the day?”

Python: “In the Abyss, light from the sun is absorbed between stratums and reflected off the barriers of those respective stratums. These barriers exist on the edge of each stratum, which we refer to as the ‘void’ because there isn’t anything beyond that.”

Python gestured to the Light Flower Chirin poked.

Python: “Light Flowers absorb the light energy, use it to create their own energy, and then expel the waste as light. They close up during the night in order to conserve their energy. Lamentation is the only stratum where they grow naturally.”

Chirin: “Oh...”

An image of the Peace Lillies flashed in Chirin's mind, and his hand fell to the left side of his head: the place where he distinctly remembered his father placing the Peace Lilly he had given him.

Chirin really missed him.

Python: “By the way…”

Chirin: “...Hm?”

Python: “You shouldn’t go around touching things without knowing what they are.”

Chirin: “Oh! S-Sorry Ma’am! It won’t happen again!”

Python: “ ...Again with the ‘Ma’amming’, Chirin… lay it off already… I don’t know how many times I have to remind you about it… A simple ‘Okay Python’ would have sufficed...”

The third thing wanderers experienced was neither an instance of nature or fauna. It was the serpent-like Abyssian that was Python herself.

Chirin and Python crossed through a particularly thick brush, Python gliding through the tall grass comfortably while Chirin lingered further behind, more focused on flicking away the sharp seeds that stuck to his clothes and poked his feet than on the woman that walked ahead of him.

Suddenly, Python stopped, looked down, and bent over, disappearing under the grass.

Chirin: "Uhmm... I get that we have to take the longer path to Outcry because it's safer but... Why do we have to cut through this super grassy area? I'm much shorter than you, and I can barely see what's in front of--"

When Chirin looked up, Python was nowhere to be seen.

Chirin: “Wuh-? ...M-Ma’am?”

Python: “Behind you.”

Chirin shrieked as Python appeared behind him, jumping away as he leveled her with a wide-eyed stare.

Chirin: “How long were you there?! I could’ve sworn you were right in front of me just now!”

The smirk on Python’s face was telling of her amusement.

Python: “You underestimate me, Chirin.”

She lifted her hand to reveal a dirty coin lodged between her fingers.

Python: “... Something smelled… Money-like… I needed to find it… And I did…”

Chirin shot her a deadpan look.

Chirin: “You... smell money...?”

Chirin: ("Money grubber! She's really a money grubber!")

Python laughed.

Python: “Of course I do! I'm a Serpent Abyssian, Chirin. I have a sharp sense of smell. I caught a whiff of something promising but…”

She observed the coin, holding it close to her face.

Python: “...This thing is super worn out.”

Chirin: “Oh… May I borrow it to try that trick you showed me last night?”

Python: “Go ahead.”

Python flicked the coin over to Chirin, who caught it seamlessly. The boy then laid his newly acquired coin on a sideways fist, staring at it intensely as Python crouched for a closer look. With a flick of his thumb, Chirin tried to flick the coin straight into the air. 

However, instead of it flying straight upwards as he had expected, the dirty coin unceremoniously flew sideways, striking Python square in the face. Chirin screamed in horror as Python recoiled with a pained grunt.

Chirin: “AAAHHH! I DIDN'T MEAN TO DO THAT! ARE YOU OKAY?”

Python: “Mmmph… I’m alright…”

Chirin: “Y-You don’t look okay… you’re clutching your nose pretty tightly… Are you sure you're okay?”

Python: “...Don’t worry about me. I’m alright. See?”

She lifted her mask just enough for Chirin to take a good look at the lower portion of her face. Surprisingly, she appeared to be perfectly fine despite how painful that coin-smack looked.

Chirin: “Oh… Okay then…”

Chirin let out a defeated sigh.

Chirin: “That was horrible… I’ll never be as good at this as you are…”

Python: “Hey now, don’t be discouraged.”

She held up the coin she gave Chirin, laid it on a sideways fist, and flicked the coin in the air, catching it seamlessly while Chirin watched, impressed with how easily she could do it. 

Chirin: (“She makes it look so easy!”)

Python offered the coin to Chirin.

Python: “Here, you can have this."

Chirin’s gaze lingered on the coin, and he slowly took it, observing it thoughtfully. It was a muddy, faded darkish color. On it were words of a language he couldn’t read, but despite the coin’s pitiable condition, Chirin was certain that if it was cleaned up, it could still be used.

Python: "Coin tricks are just one of the many things that take time to master. Just keep at it and don’t give up. You’ll get it eventually."

Chirin looked at Python thoughtfully. She didn’t seem like the kind of person who would give away any amount of money so sporadically and without reason. It went against everything Chirin thought he knew about her (Even though, in hindsight, he didn’t know much about her aside from whatever her obsession with money and equivalent exchange was).

Chirin: "So... I can have this... for... free?"

Predictably, Python sputtered.

Python: "Not for free! I... I-It's to practice with!"

Python: “Aaaaaand... It’s useless to me. Nobody will accept anything for it—”

She spared him a glance as she began to pace away.

Python: “ —Juuuust… Play with that instead of touching everything you see, okay? You can pay me back by getting good, yeah? Don't you dare lost it, Chirin.”

Chirin: “Uhm... Ok!”

Chirin was grateful for the gift she had given him while, all the same, slightly weirded out by her seemingly uncharacteristic modesty. Python spared Chririn a glance.

Python: “...You know, the only Abyssian who has ever been interested in my coin tricks is Wolfspider...”

Chirin: “Wolfspider?”

Chirin vaguely recalled Python mentioning the name.

( Python: “ — This is surprising though… No one other than Wolfspider has been this interested in my coin tricks since… A long time ago…” )

Chirin: (“Oh! That’s the Abyssian she mentioned last night!”)

Chirin: “Who are they?”

Python: “He’s a good friend of mine. He doesn’t travel because of how much of a workaholic he is, so his life isn't as exciting as mine. But I do write to him often, just telling him about my travels, so hopefully, he isn’t too bored these days. I showed him the same trick I showed you. That little stunt you pulled earlier? That’s much more than he managed to pull off when he tried it for the first time.”

Python laughed a bit to herself, smiling fondly as if she were recalling a distant memory.

Python: “... Such a stickler he is… That big oaf couldn't even flick the coin in the air! His fingers are a lot longer than mine, so doing it exactly like me would never work for him. Even though I tell him that, he never listens, kinda like how you never listen when I ask you to call me by my name–”

Chirin raised a brow at that last part, slightly mortified at the jab at his character.

Python: “ —I think you’ll really like him.”

Chirin nodded agreeably despite not completely understanding. Whoever this Wolfspider man was, Python seemed very fond of him. There seemed to be a lot more to the Serpent Abyssian than she let on. Chirin didn't know what to say about any of it (or if he should say anything about it).

An awkward silence of walking through the tall grass followed. Chirin absentmindedly fiddled with the coin in his hand, studying it with a blank expression. Soon, he and Python were free of the thick brush, stepping out into an airy clearing where the trees began to thin out in the distance. Upon entering the clearing, Chirin felt a slight sense of relief. They had been walking for almost a whole day, and he was sweaty, dirty, and tired. 

But as they walked, Python suddenly slowed to a halt. Chirin stopped behind her, watching her curiously as she looked around and mused to herself: something she did when she was deep in thought. But this time, Chirin could hear her clearly.

Python: "...I caught a whiff of a scent trail that leads in the direction we're heading while cutting through the brush... I'm sure I made the right call in following that trail left since it was left by someone who was heading back to the city..."

Python: "But why... Is their scent suddenly everywhere?"

Python: "That's... strange... Did they get lost? Distracted?" 

Python: "Maybe they stayed the night here and left at dawn, but that can't be... The scent would have been stale by the time we got here... So why---?"

Suddenly, a bone-chilling howl pierced the silence, so loud that it made Chirin’s ears ring. It was monstrous, yet eerily human-like, as if a man was screaming mournfully at the top of his lungs. It caused Chirin to freeze in his tracks, his wide-eyed gaze darting in all directions as his heart pounded. It had sounded unlike anything he had heard before. 

But Python had stiffened, frozen as if time itself had suddenly seized her in it's girp.

She understood very well what this was.

Python: “No... It can't be! Chirin, stay close to me.”

She silently gestured to Chirin to come close, and he quickly obliged, falling to Python’s side. In the distance, he heard the loud crackle of wood, and he gently tugged at Python’s cape, leveling her with a desperate look.

Chirin: “Ma’am–-!”

Python: “Shhh… Wait.”

???: “W-Who’s there? Help me… P-Please help me!”

Python’s gaze shot upwards toward the source of the call for help. When Chirin followed, that was when he saw it— a huge, quadruped chameleon-like monster seemingly materializing on the branches above them, its multicolored scales shifting from the colors of its surroundings to a burning shade that caused it to stick out from the rest of the colors of the forest. Lodged between its scales, in scattered sections of its back, were papers; the writing so small that Chirin couldn’t discern what could possibly be written on them. The chameleon was half as tall as a tree, with massive, branchy horns that twisted with solicitous threat and claws that curved like cleavers. And pierced beneath those massive claws was another Abyssian; their eyes were wide like two moons and horrifyingly bloodshot. They were alive, their wheezing breaths coming out ragged and liquidly.

???: “H-Help me…”

Time seemed to fall still as shock and horror coursed through Chirin’s body. He stumbled back a bit, a strangled whimper escaping his lips as he took in their irreparably mangled body and the gaping hole in their chest.

The monster’s black-beady eyes, once moving independently of each other, focused on Chirin and Python, bearing down on them like a leopard sizing down the antelope that strolled unaware beneath it. 

It slowly slid down the tree, forked tongue flicking in and out, and stood before the two of them, its head tilted in inquiry. 

Python cursed under her breath.

Python: “I didn't notice it because it masked its aura… Sly bastard!”

Chirin: “W-What is that thing?!”

Python: “That’s an Elder Abyssian. While we Abyssians may be blessed with longevity, that long life comes with a price. Our life spans can only be extended by an extra hundred years by eating the hearts of others– by feeding off their futures… However, there is only so much an Abyssian can take before they lose themselves to their hunger and the collective consciousnesses of their victims.”

Python: “The older something is, the more it descends into chaos.”

She clenched her fist tightly.

Python: “ —-We took the long path for the sake of avoiding one.”

A 𓇗  𓆸 A ᪥ 𓇑

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BONUS!

Happy Pride Month, friends!

Here's a little doodle of Chirin showing off his pride!