Broken Chains

Walking through the strange place that Puck suspected could only be his own soul, he could do nothing but goggle. The surroundings were both strange and beautiful. Everything about this place seemed odd. Nothing behaved as it should have as Puck walked, moved, and drifted through it.

One thing that was ever-present was the wind in the strange emptiness between all the different kinds of creations. At one point, Puck was caught up by a strong, hot gust of air, which transported him hundreds of meters away.

Trying to reach some of the strange places around him, Puck in the end simply got set down by the wind in one of them.

Landing on the first solid place he could reach, he set his feet on a terrifyingly large branch of a mind-bogglingly massive tree, floating in the middle of all this strangeness.

Curiosity and a sense of adventure took over, and Puck began walking up the branch. Suddenly, a small creature fell from a branch above, only to start hovering in the air above him. Looking up, Puck studied the strange animal. Perhaps this was one of the birds Scarlet had talked about.

With nearly invisible, rapid beats of its strange appendages, the bird hovered in the air, screeching at Puck. Perhaps because this was his soul, and the animal before him wasn’t real but a manifestation of his ideal, Puck felt as if he understood what it wanted to say to him. The screech was both a curious inquiry directed at the strange, hairless monkey that had entered its territory and a playful challenge to try to catch it.

Swooping down farther, the bird swirled around Puck, screeching in a way that felt like laughter. Was it making fun of him? Deciding to give it a try, Puck reached out with one hand to grab the bird, only to receive a teasing peck on his palm in return.

The bird flew farther up the branch, screeching again. Deciding to follow, Puck began walking after it. Sensing the bird’s annoyance at his slow pace, Puck gradually sped up.

Looking down at the massive branch on either side of him, Puck felt his knees wobble. He was still a Gremlin who had never been at such great heights before. Slowly realizing this was part of the challenge, an interaction with his ideal, Puck knew that giving in and slowing down would mean failure.

Determined not to look down, Puck focused solely on the bird ahead of him and the rough bark beneath his claws and feet. This was starting to get fun! Feeling the air rush through his lungs, Puck laughed as more birds joined the spectacle. Why couldn’t he fly too? Or could he, at least in here?

Seeing the end of the branch approaching, Puck noticed another branch a few meters away. It was too far for a normal jump, but in here? Heart pounding and adrenaline rushing, Puck knew he wasn’t acting rationally. Whether it was an instinctual feeling of safety within his soul or his law of freedom urging him on to become truly free, Puck didn’t know. But in this moment, he didn’t care.

Kicking off the branch with all his might, Puck felt as though the world slowed down as he soared through the air. This moment, this was it.

Around him, dozens of birds screeched in joy as they flew in their own patterns. His body felt weightless and free, while the air was rushing into his face and caressing his ears. In that moment, Puck felt as though he could do anything, be anything, be truly free.

Screaming with joy, Puck’s elation was cut short as he realized he was falling short of the next branch. Wishing with all his might to fly farther, he felt his flight speed up, but it wasn’t enough. In a mix of terrifying speed and torturous slowness, the branch slipped out of view as Puck fell. Panic set in, and he looked down just in time to.

WOOM.

In the instant he looked down, Puck collided with a smaller side branch of the larger one he had aimed for. He felt something break in his ankle as he tumbled across the rough bark, opening dozens of shallow wounds. Still falling, Puck managed to grab hold of the bark with his claws, clinging on for dear life.

Treading air with his feet, Puck silently thanked Scarlet for his physical training, as it allowed him to pull himself onto the branch despite the pain. Lying on his back, feeling the agony radiate from his ankle and the rest of his body, Puck still felt that it had been worth it. That one moment, it had been glorious.

But how would these injuries affect him in the real world? And had it worked? Had he gotten closer to his ideal? Was it willing to help him?

Looking at the birds still flying around him, Puck sensed they were up to something. Though still playful and erratic, there was now a sense of duty and order to their movements. One by one, they flew down and landed around him on the branch. Studying them more closely, Puck noticed that each bird held something in its claws. Some carried sticks and moss, while others brought water and some kind of paste.

Feeling as though he were dreaming, Puck lay there, watching as the birds tended to his wounds with slow, methodical care. Hours slowly went by, but when they finally finished their work, all of Puck’s wounds were bandaged, and no more blood was leaking.

Gratefully observing his little helpers, Puck bowed his head in thanks. Vowing to return soon, Puck instinctively knew it was time to go back to the real world. Slowly closing his eyes, Puck felt a shift in his surroundings. The next time he opened his eyes again, he would be greeted by the eternal ice once more.