Hey y'all, please enjoy the new improved chapter 1. And thanks for sticking by me for this edit.
Ash Lowen Reznick had issues. His memories were tattered and filled with holes, entire years of his life were missing, but one thing he definitely remembered was going to sleep in his own bed in the familiar and safe confines of his home last night. He certainly had not traveled to the frozen wasteland he had currently found himself in, harried by icy winds that would have sapped the life from most beings.
It was a mixed blessing to be resistant to the cold. On one hand at least he knew he wouldn’t die from it, but at the same time it was part of a package of “gifts” he didn’t have the ability to say no to. And he wondered how much help they would really be when he had no idea where he was or how he had gotten there. Nothing about this was familiar. For most of his life he had been living in Los Angeles and this was very obviously the furthest thing from that. Come to think of it, he didn’t think he had ever seen snow in person before.
He paused for a moment and held out a palm, a few crystalline flakes landing on his skin, their tiny fractal patterns pulling on something deeper in him. There was a memory there, small and fuzzy and out of focus, the color of it pale blue. It felt…comforting. He stored that thought away for later, before scanning desolate monochrome landscape of black rock and ice to the mountains that stuck out like jagged white teeth beyond the horizon. Occasionally lambent blue light tinged the bruised sky as lighting struck their peaks.
He pressed ahead, not really having any idea where he was going but aiming for the closest outcropping of black rock that stood like a guardian at the base of the mountains. While he crossed the shattered landscape he occasionally thought he could make out shapes among the jagged stones, vaguely humanoid statues with features long worn smooth by the passage of time and weather, now buried under snow and rubble. But still none of it looked familiar, and the blank faces that he passed were quite frankly giving him the creeps, as if even without their eyes they were still watching him.
So when he finally within view of the base of the outcropping he immediately broke into a run, hardly believing his own eyes as he bullied his way through the snow towards a lone figure of a person curled up against a jutting pillar of slate, a hand clinging to it like it was in danger of being carried off by the wind. It was unlikely, given that it was the size of a bus, but he couldn’t blame them for grasping to anything that felt safe, especially if they had arrived here the same way he had.
It was a man, powerfully built, wearing simple outfit of a maroon t-shirt, black joggers, and sneakers that were definitely not designed for this sort of environment. He had one arm wrapped around himself in a futile attempt to stave off the cold, and his loosely tied long black hair was being whipped around his face by the wind.
But while Ash should have felt relief, instead he inwardly groaned. He knew that distinctive goatee and those thick brows. He knew the silvery scar that cleaved a line up the from the base of his throat through to his eyebrow, making the side of his lip curl up in a permanent snarl along the way. Ash scoffed at his luck, or rather the lack thereof.
It was Fetu, a friend of his ex-girlfriend. Ash hadn’t really gotten to know him well, just that he was a bouncer, and a werewolf. But those aspects didn’t bother him as much as knowing that Fetu was loyal to a fault, and could be quietly fearsome when tried. At least according to his ex anyways.
The timing of this couldn’t be worse; Ash had broken up with Becky only a few days before. He’d been numb to her temper tantrums and controlling nature; he’d wasted years hoping his affection would change her, make her a better person, that if he changed himself enough and became perfect for her, she’d really love him. She’d calm down. But the last time she grabbed his phone and tried smashing it to cut off his only means of communication before throwing it right at his face, he woke up. The phone and his home were the only things he had left that were truly “his.”
And Fetu was the only friend she still had. The only one she hadn’t chased off yet.
Ash sighed, lowering his head and rubbing his hand through his hair. No doubt Becky had spun things like only she could, and Fetu had his own version of what had happened in his head. Ash couldn’t blame him for being wary, but he knew that it would be pointless to convince him otherwise. He certainly hadn’t been immune to her manipulations, how could expect Fetu to be? All he really knew of Fetu was what she had told him after all.
Ash remained as motionless as a statue. He’d put the ball in Fetu’s court, and let him decide how things were going to be. He didn’t want to come across as a threat. But, as Fetu rose to his full height above him Ash realized that was in hindsight, a stupidly hilarious notion.
Ash wasn’t exactly tiny, he was a perfectly respectable 5’11”, but he was absolutely dwarfed by Fetu, who snarled as he heaved himself up, standing at least nine inches above him. Ash squared himself, not cowering, not looking to fight, but still standing his ground.
"Ash? What the hell is going on?" Fetu twisted, looking around with wide, wild amber eyes that seemed to burn like embers in the surrounding murk, "What is this? Where am I?" He turned to glare at the smaller man, his eyes narrowed, “What did you do?”
Ash sighed, "Calm down, man. I woke up here, same as you did. You'd imagine my surprise finding you here, too."
“I have a hard time believing this isn’t a trick of yours.”
The comment made a bubble of anger pop within Ash, and he snapped back, ”Yeah, well, your paranoia isn’t my fucking problem. What makes you think I'd just want to come to wherever the hell this is with you, and bring you here with me? That doesn’t make any sense. I’d much rather be home, asleep, and not having to explain myself to-“
Fetu grunted and waved a hand, “Whatever, fine. Can you at least take us back?”
“Trust me I’d like nothing better. But I can’t leave. I’ve been trying for the last hour. At least I think it’s been the last hour…”
Fetu sighed, cast his gaze to the bruised sky above them, then looked around as if the barren rocks and the compacted ice would provide him answers, and finding none, he wrapped his arms around himself again and went trudging through the snow.
"Uhhhhh where are you going?"
Fetu muttered, "I don’t know!"
"Yeah that’s super helpful, thanks.”
Fetu paused again before looking back at Ash, "How did you find me anyways?”
"With all due respect? You’re a six foot something wall of beef you’re kinda hard to miss, especially out here. I was heading to the mountain, I figure at the least it could have shelter and I could look and see where exactly this is."
Fetu snorted, and squinted into the distance, “There’s something moving there. See it?”
It was small, whatever it was, and moved in an unnerving skittering pattern over the snow and rubble, seemingly unhindered by anything. It was making a beeline right for them, like it had just landed like they had and was just as desperate to see another living being. But Fetu made a face as it got closer, and Ash would only stare at it as it’s surreal form came fully into view.
It was a teapot.
It was a rather lovely miniature pot, a pale dusty blue with creamy-white bas-relief figures of Grecian women dancing across it. It certainly looked expensive, but the part that really struck out were the eight ornate, white, clockwork legs that were attached to it, the tiny gears not even making a sound as it marched forward and finally came to a halt at their feet.
Ash almost busted out laughing at the absurdity of what was happening but instead squatted slowly down to get a closer look,
“Huh, well aren’t you cute.”
Fetu muttered under his breath, “What the hell is going on?”
The pot tapped its front legs in a rapid drumming motion, before spinning slowly in a circle so it’s spout was facing-well at least Ash thought it was facing-in the direction from whence it came. It skittered ahead, only a couple of feet, and more slowly than it had arrived, before stopping again. As it if were waiting.
Ash pursed his lips before making a soft scoffing around while he straightened back up, “Well I guess it wants us to follow it?”
“You…want us to follow a teapot?”
Ash shrugged, meeting Fetu’s look of questioning disbelief, “It’s more interesting than sitting around here right?”
“I…yeah I guess it’s better than sitting in the cold. You sure you didn’t have anything to do with this?”
Ash sighed and held up his hand, “I solemnly swear I did not transport us here to Wherever We Are in order to end up following a robot-spider-teapot across the frozen wastes. There. Happy?”
Fetu shrugged slowly, his arms wrapped around his middle, “…mildly”
“Okay then let’s go.”
Almost as soon as he said it the teapot was off again, keeping an even pace they could keep up with. Though it was still rough going; with sharp black glass, crumpled basalt, and the seemingly endless snow making it feel like they had been crawling at a snails pace for hours. Days? Ash couldn’t even tell. But finally, finally the teapot stopped, and Fetu made a tired grunt, “Looks like there’s someone living here after all”.
Sure enough, perched towards the top of the mountain was a series of towers, made from the same dark stone as the mountain itself, barely visible in the dim light, and easy to mistake for being a natural part of the surrounding rock from a distance. But as he squinted he could see small windows, dimly lit from within with pale golden light. He huffed out a sigh, “Well, that’s something, but how are we gonna get up there?”
Fetu’s voice came back, dull and flat, “I won’t make it, not like this, not unless I shift.”
Ash blinked back slowly at the man as he processed what was being said fully, and felt a pang of guilt as he saw that Fetu was shivering and miserable, “Wait I thought you could only-”
“-I can’t control it when there’s a full moon, there’s no controlling anything then. But I’ve learned how to shift outside of when the moon is up. It still hurts like hell, but at least I have my consciousness then. And it beats the hell out of freezing to death out here.”
Ash pursed his lips, “When you’re right you’re right. Do what you gotta do then”
“Not while you’re watching”, Fetu’s voice was stern, but touched by sadness
“What? Oh…uh, okay”, Ash blinked again but turned around, folding his arms around himself and staring at the teapot, which had paused as they had, it’s little front legs rubbing against each other in some strange miming of a spider cleaning itself.
He wasn’t sure what he was expecting to hear, but as the sounds of crunching bones greeted him he grit his teeth, shivering despite himself as it became interspersed with pained sobs and the sound of tearing flesh. He willed himself to not turn and look, even as Fetu’s low voice became mixed with yelps and whines, the tearing sounds only becoming worse. There were no triumphant roars or powerful snarls, just the unmistakable sounds of pain. Finally, there was cracking and muffled pounding, followed by a howl that echoed through their surroundings and tore through Ash’s soul like a whip. Perhaps it was his empathy getting out of control again, but he couldn’t help but feel sorry for Fetu, his agony was so powerful.
But now he was quiet, save for the sound of harsh panting followed by a low whine. Ash shuddered, swallowing hard before slowly turning around.
He was massive, if he had been standing upright he would have been towering above him at about 8 feet. He was resting on his knuckles, in the indentations that his fists had made in the ice, his back legs curled underneath him. His ears were long and sharp, thinner than the fuzzy triangles that were common to wolves. He was covered in long black fur, with the longest belonging to the mane that cascaded over his shoulders and were raised on his hunched back. It gave him a look more akin to a hyena, with arms thick and strong like an apes. As he panted Ash could spot wicked looking fangs, and as the thing that had been Fetu snapped his glowing amber eyes onto Ash, he was certain that the werewolf could tear him apart like wet tissue paper.
But even so, Ash eased down into a squat, put a hand out, slowly, and the wolf walked forward just as slowly, sniffing at his hand before backing off again, his head hunched down against the icy wind. Alright, they hadn’t gotten off to the best start, but Ash took it as a good sign that Fetu hadn’t pulled him apart like a roast chicken yet. He pulled off his hoodie, revealing a simple henley underneath, before leaning forward slowly to wrap it around Fetu’s head and tying it under his jaw. He slowly stood back up again, and smirked,
“You look like someone’s bubbie but at least it will keep your ears from falling off. C’mon, let’s go.”
There was a path up the side of the mountain, thin and crumbling in places, but the teapot led the way, seemingly weightless as it crawled over the surface, leaving tiny little dotted footprints for them to follow. Fetu’s head was lowered against the wind, his body acting as a bulldozer against the built-up drifts of snow. He was fully coated in powder, which began to turn into heavy chunks of ice as they melted and resolidified in his fur. Still he bullied his way through, his only noises the occasional grunt or sniff of the air.
Ash had hoped he’d be able to get a better look at things when they were higher up, and when they neared the summit he paused, squinting against the wind to scan the horizon. Nothing. No cities, no towns, just the seemingly endless mountains. Here and there he thought he could make out a statue of some unknown beast or winged human, but their features were all long-gone and impossible to identify. He held his hand out, letting the snow and ice fall into his palm. He shivered despite himself, and turned to look back at Fetu pushing ahead, drips of crimson staining the path behind him.
“Hey, wait…”
The werewolf stopped, turning his head slightly, his eyes and his lolling tongue betraying how exhausted he was. Ash followed in the paw prints he left, “You’re bleeding…”.
Fetu looked away, making a huffing sound that could have been interpreted as scoffing, but despite that Ash gently picked up one of the giant paws, picking out balls of ice that were clinging to the fur. There was a crack across the largest pad, red and deep, with smaller cracks appearing across the toes. Fur or not, Fetu wasn’t going to survive much longer in these conditions. Ash sighed, “Alright, looks like I’m going to have to carry you, you’re not going to be able to keep on like this…” The growl that followed was distrusting, and would have given a normal person with a normal sense of self preservation pause, but neither of those applied to Ash, so he simply dropped a knee and slipped his arms under the absurdly huge wolf,
“Listen if I do anything you have permission to kill me but at least let me help first”
Fetu weighed nothing to him. It had taken awhile for him to get used to his strength after he had first “awoken”, and he had unintentionally broken many handles, knobs, and other items before he was able to relearn how to use his own extremities. So he was extra delicate with the wolf, and he hefted him onto his shoulders as easily as if he was a tiny lamb, before standing up again.
“Alright, ready?”
He was answered with a discontented whine.
“Yeah yeah yeah, calm down I won’t tell anyone that the big bad werewolf got carried up a mountain”
No doubt anyone watching would have found the sight of Ash up to his knees in drifting snow, carrying an oversized wolf wearing a bonnet on his shoulders, following a teapot, to be utterly ludicrous. But luckily for both of them there was no one else to be seen. However, that didn’t stop a little prickle from crawling up the back of Ash’s neck, something separate from the feel of Fetu’s fur brushing against him. There was someone watching them, though where and how with the maelstrom surrounding the mountain he wasn’t sure. He kept his eyes on the path ahead instead, kept his eyes on the little blue pot that kept it’s march upwards.
The gray sun seemed have finally given up on its fight against the storm, and had begun to set behind the mountains, its piddly light retreating against the encroaching fingers of the night. Ash gritted his teeth and pressed harder against the winds, with night it would no doubt get even colder and Fetu would die for certain. And even with as much distrust as there was between them he wasn’t going to let him perish out in this dismal place. As if on cue Fetu made an anxious yip and Ash didn’t need him to speak in a human voice to understand. He moved as fast as he could, cursing at the ice that almost made him slip and charging through the drifts until, finally, finally they arrived.
Ash nearly collapsed as he spotted doors. Double doors of sturdy red-hued wood and intricately wrought branches of blackened metal tipped with leaves of gold. Even if it weren’t for the fact he was happy to see some form of sanctuary they were beautiful. But there would be time for him to investigate good craftsmanship later. The final push through the snow taking more energy that he had hoped to expend, but he caught himself, and let Fetu slide off his shoulders with a soft grunt.
Ash sighed, “Well, I don’t see a doorbell, hope it’s not lock-“
The pot, which until this point had been perfectly still, spun in a circle again, and for a moment Ash was held by the terrible thought of them having to follow it back down the mountain, when it started to do a curious little jig. He exchanged glances with Fetu, before watching it skitter to the left and to the right, do a few bounces on its legs, and then another skitter to the right and to the left. With that, the doors swung open.
He heaved a huge sigh of relief, and with Fetu limping along beside him, he entered. Fetu growled warily, sniffing the air. Before them was a long hall, an arched passage of polished white marble held up by massive pillars of azure stone laced with gold. It was lit with glass lamps hanging from the ceiling, lending the pillars imposing shadows that stretched across the glossy, and spotless floor. The air was fresh-smelling, and it was certainly warmer than being outside at least. The pot merrily trotted past them as they stared, the doors swinging shut behind them with a ponderous and dull thud.
There was little but the sound of the teapots feet tapping on the floor as they walked, the howls of the wind outside muffled to nearly nothing. Even with the need to be suspicious of everything, Ash felt his shoulders relax just a hair. But he felt himself gawk as the hall opened into a vast and luxurious room. Could it even be considered a room? He felt like his whole house could fit inside of it. And yet it was strangely cozy. The floor was a kaleidoscopic mosaic of purples, reds, pinks and blues, spinning out from a central point of burning gold. Opalescent depictions of stars, moons, and other heavenly bodies lay at the outskirts of the spiral, embedded in a void of deep blue. More pillars held up the ceiling, with the walls being of a similar rich blue. The focal point of the room featured a massive fireplace, large enough to hold 5 men standing. A fire burned bright and cheery within, facing two long velvety couches and an overstuffed chair. Pillows and throws were here and there, practically inviting someone to come in and flop down. And as for Fetu, he did exactly that, padding wearily over in front of the fire and collapsing with a long-suffering grunt.
Ash crouched in front of him, basking in the roasting heat of the fire, “Here, let me have a look-”, he unwrapped his hoodie from Fetu’s head, wringing out the melted ice and letting the water sizzle on the hearth before turning his attention back to those shredded paws. He held them gently in his hands, turning them and noticing that the cuts were slowly starting to close on their own. Fetu barely moved, his head flat against the floor and his breaths shallow. Ash muttered, mostly to himself, “Well, at least you’re healing I guess…”
He spotted one of the thicker throws folded on the chair, and tugged it free, tossing it gently over the prone wolf, “Here, I’m going to go have a look around. I’ll be back.”
The teapot had been waiting for him, standing like a soldier next to an arched doorway. And when he approached it led him through, little legs tapping over the marble floors.
He was filled with equal parts anxiety and uncertainty but made an effort to not show it in front of Fetu, using his irritation as a protective cloak around him. Now he sighed, quiet as a ghost as he dutifully followed the pot down the hall. It was about 80 feet in length, lit with glittering lamps that cast light over painted designs of serpents, lions, angels, demons, sphinxes, and even stranger creatures Ash didn’t recognize. He gave them a cursory look as he walked, furrowing his brow like he was reading a story that should make sense but was in a language not his own. Time enough for that later. He pushed open the dark wood door slowly, getting ready for the worst, but found himself looking in a study, which was warmed by a fireplace, albeit far smaller than the one in a foyer. Pictures and rows of books lined the walls, but what had his attention was the outline of a man who sat with his back to the door. He was sitting at a table, fiddling with something on its white cloth. Ash froze, the man pausing and turning his head to look over his shoulder at him,
“Hello Ash. Come in, I’ve been expecting you.”