//------------------------------// // Of Ostriches and Imps // Story: Ofolrodi // by Imploding Colon //------------------------------// Four nimble fingers with even nimbler claws twirled a silver strip until it was a hazy blur. Every once in a while, a translucent specimen of chaotic life would spawn from the currency's gritty surface, but the swift motions of Jacko's digits snuffed the phantom out as soon as it was created. "Theah are heaps of us gobb-o's who think that impkind didn't start with the Marrow," the Tail-Blooder explained. "Loads of us believe that we were put theah in the prisons by somethin' biggah and baddah than us. That's not to be debated. But the question is—just how long were we imprisoned for, aye?" Jacko shrugged. "Most subscribe to the belief that we always lived in a state of destitution and imprisonment. That theah simply was no beginnin' to it all. An eternity goin' backwards in time. Can ya fit your cat noggin' around that?" Seraphimus stood in the doorframe to the metal shack, forelimbs folded in a guarded stance. "Honestly, no, I cannot," she said. "I've only ever envisioned spiritual magnificence as going forward." "Ah!" Jacko's sharp teeth showed as he pointed at her across the tiny structure. "So you do believe they are souls!" Seraphimus' charcoal brown eyes narrowed. "That what are souls...?" "Fwoosh!" Jacko charaded "rising smoke." His eyes went wide. "The Peetra Shade! The holy bearst of blood light that billows when a bloke bites it!" The griffin cocked her head to the side. "You mean this plane's deathlights?" Jackso shrugged. "Call it what you want to, sheila. The Dihmahs don't geeve a rat's ass ovah what it is, so I assumed you'd be just as apathetic." He paced across the shack towards her, twirling the strip. "Us gobb-o's, though? We believe it's the rubbish left behind when an imp rejoins Peetra's flame. Ya see..." He approached her. "Theah's the flame we burn and the flame we waste. The less that's wasted, the warmah our place will be in the eternal torch—" "That's close enough," Seraphimus interrupted, her gaze slicing the angle of his feet. Wincing, Jacko slowly teetered around and paced in the opposite direction with drooping ears. "Righ... So Dihmahs—from what we can tell—live the way they live cuz they want to cast as little flame as possible when they kick the bucket. That way they own theah souls—by not owning them at all! Does that make any sense?" "Not really, no." "Whew! I'm not alone, then! Heh..." Jacko cleared his throat and turned around. "Gobb-o's, of course, think the opposite. We're heah to manifest as much Peetra as possible while alive... so our souls are less rubbish when our time on thees plane is ovah. It's a not noblah, ya think?" "I think..." Seraphimus hung her head slightly, headcrest drooping. "...that religion—in any form—is far less relevant and meaningful than I once thought it was..." "And given how the streeps fall in this world, who can blame you, aye?" He bore a bittersweet smile. "Guess an ostrich like yourself feels righ loss without feelin' Peetra first-hand." "Get to what this all has to do with Penumbra, already," Seraphimus grumbled. Jacko nodded obediently. "Well, Flame is simply a means of emitting light and warmth..." The strip in his claws spat out a tiny dragon and he shook it clear. "And while it's so powerful and mesmerizing, it's constantly decayin' all the same. So... considerin' how bright Peetra is and how much us Gobb-o's have been able to conjure eet..." He leaned against the table before him, his brow furrowed in contemplation as he spoke: "Theah's gotta be a biggah well of the stuff. Y'know? Theah's gotta be a place wheah one big torch or a billion big torches were once lit... or are still lit!" "And you think that is what Penumbra is?" Seraphimus said. "Well, that's the crazy part!" Jacko leaned back, smirking. "Have you ever wondered where the very word came from?" "... ... ..." Seraphimus blinked unemotionally. "I would be lying if I said that I wasn't somewhat curious." "Same heah! And so are many other gobb-o's like me! Curious, that is." Jacko gestured. "What if... we weren't always imprisoned? What if there was actually a beginnin'? A time before time, so to speak?" "That would sound somewhat logical..." "Righ, love." Jacko nodded. "So... maybe us Gobb-o's came from the same place the word 'Penumbra' did. Maybe ages ago theah were imps who knew things that many of us don't know today..." He whispered. "...including the Metal Mum. She doesn't know eithah." "What...?" Seraphimus raised an eyecrest. "...is that heretical to suggest out loud?" "Shhhhhhh!" Jacko cringed, looking nervously over his shoulders. "...you're on the money, love. What gave it away?" Seraphimus exhaled slowly. "I'm... something of an expert on heresy." "Well, gobb-o's who make the mistake of lecturin' other gobb-o's on the possibility of us comin' from someplace othah than the Marrow are ostracized by their fellow blokes." "Goblins..." Seraphimus cocked her head to the side. "...like you?" Jacko's ears drooped noticeably. His eyes avoided the griffin's. She breathed knowingly. "You weren't always a 'Tail Blooder,' were you?" He kicked errantly at the dirty floor. "... ... ...me great-great-great grand uncle's nephew twice removed was a Tail-Bloodah." He sniffled slightly. "That was the flamin' branch of Peetra the Metal Council traced when they decided the caste I was to be demoted to." Seraphimus squinted. "You can be thrust down the castes?" "Aye. For disruptin' the Furnace." He shrugged. "It's an age-old expression." "The Furnace being... your contribution to Petra's Flame." "Avril and the rest of the council said I was spittin' rubbish," Jacko said. "Ruinin' me soul and the like. They said they were kickin' me all the way to the Blobstain for me own good... so that I could process the flame at a level low enough to meet the poor standahds I had set for me inevitable death." His nostrils flared under a pointed nose. "You ask me... they were just needin' to make an example out of someone. I had spoken a bit too much and it was in season soooooo... heah I am." "And let me guess..." Seraphimus breathed. "You're seeking vindication for your heretical beliefs... so you can be accepted back onto the higher branches of Petra." "It's m-much m-more than that!" Jacko exclaimed, shaking his hands. "Hrmmmfff... I should have known. Every putrid creature on this plane is only after their own grimey aspirations." She made to leave the shack. "Why I thought you could actually educate me on this world, I'll never know..." "Wait wait wait—!" He scampered across the way on tiny feet. "Don't go! This is about heaps more than that!" He grabbed her talon with two desperate fingers. "Just hold up, love! Please!" "... ... ..." She stared daggers down at him. Schiiiiing! Talons kissed the air just centimeters from his tiny wrists. "I thought I made it clear that I wasn't to be touched." He gulped, but stared boldly at her all the same. "Shred me into shadows of Peetra all you want! But just heah me out first!" His ears leaned back sharply as his eyes hardened. "I've been to the Edge in search of Marrow and scrap! I've seen the light! A light like no other! A eternal splash of brightness and colah from some Paradise beyond!" His teeth showed. "'Penumbra' is more than a bloody word! It's an answer to questions that the engineers of Petra have asked for all generations that have evah been!" His eyes rounded again, like a child's. "And you're from theah, aren't you, love?" Seraphimus sighed. She moved her talon—but gently, loosening his grip without amputating him. "It's not as bright a light that you think." "But it's real, as?!" Jacko grinned, his ears pointing straight up. "Shinier than starbeams and sweet as cinammon?!" "It's far too difficult to explain to the likes of you," Seraphimus muttered. She gazed aside with a sad expression. "Even I... never truly grasped it. And it was right in front of me." "I'm willing to heah what you know!" Jacko exclaimed. "Aftah all, I've told you what I know!" Her frown reformed, harder and more grizzled. "You've barely told me anything." "Sorry. Tradie habits, love." He gestured. "I'm used to givin' things only by piecemeal." His ears cocked slightly to the side as he smirked. "I'm certain I can scrape up more information to interest you..." "... ... ...if what?" she filled in for the goblin. "If you can't convince your fellow abominations of the reality of Penumbra, then how can I manage?" "Because you and your companions are the real deal, sheila!" Jacko gestured. "If... if you just got on a skiff with me and made for the mighty metal branches across the Blob—" "To what end?!" Seraphimus fumed. "To try and convince this... 'Metal Council' of yours?" "Reckon you're onto me starbeams, cobbah!" Jacko pointed between them, winking. "You have to be mentally deranged to think that I actually share in your pitiful desperation," Seraphimus said. "Aren't non-imps forbidden from entering this city of Petra?" She huffed. "You're nothing more than a vagabond in need of futile retribution. There are far... far grander things on my plate, sir." "Mmmm..." Jacko nodded. "No doubt of that. But... judgin' from how easily ya get hot under the collah..." He leaned forward with a sly glance. "...you're not strangah to desperation yourself." "... ... ..." "Just what sort of business is your team leadah in? I'm talkin' about the cesspool yawnhead with the glitz around her neck." Jacko smiled. "I don't suppose it has anythin' to do with the war ovah the Sarcophagus, aye?" Seraphimus stared silently at him. After a cold inhale: "You're a nosy little bastard. You know that?" "Reckon I'm not half as daft as you think, eithah, bird." He snapped a finger at her. "How about it? Fancy a bit more hagglin' for brain farts?"