Chapter Text
“..In return I ask that you encourage your community, through whatever method of communication you choose to employ, to also go west. Off into the wastes below, far away from me and my work.”
Those were the last words the pink iterator had spoken to The Gourmand before they had left. Initially they had not intended to follow through. Life is beautiful! They had kids, led their colony on so many migrations, feasted for months in wonderful company! They would tell the young sluppies of grand adventures, taught them how to fight and to love. So many good megacycles they had, eating every edible plant, animal, fungus, mold, lichen, and egg. The world was a wonderful cornucopia of flavors and textures, good and bad! They became first a grandparent then a great grandparent and so on. Generations of their lineage born under the fertile leaves of their grand tree home each summer.
But after so long, they started to feel their age. Their back began to ache in ways no medic could fix. Their vision began to wane. The fur around their muzzle was grey and patchy, and when they looked into a clear pool of water their reflection seemed more like their grandparents than their own. They were getting old.
At first they didn’t mind it. They had trained nearly every slug in the colony after all! The Brave took over colony management and that was that. Now The Gourmand found themself huddled in the middle of travel groups with the sluppies and elders, protected at all times from any danger that may threaten the colony. It was fine by them, now acting as a babysitter, a wise friend, a shoulder to cry on for any in need. They ate from the food stores they no longer added to and made requests whenever the mood struck them. They painted with ash and blood on the walls when they were too pained to move, and life continued to be beautiful.
One night they were walking slowly down a muddy hill. It had not rained recently, and The Gourmand had walked this same hill so many times that the muscle memory had been ingrained in them like music to a pearl. But they miscalculated. The darkness had concealed a tiny new root grown by the tree, and they were sent tumbling down.
They were rushed to the medic. Attemptd were made, but with their age the healers could only do so much. That is when life got worse. They were in pain constantly. That was not new, but it had gained new layers of prickling and stabbing and aching that they had never known. They had to be assisted in everything they did.
That was not so bad, it was their family and they all cared for one another deeply, but what made it unbearable was the pain. They could not find the joy in life they once did. Painting was no longer appealing, all previously lively discussions seemed a background, being around the pups brought them only headaches and tremors, and worst of all, eating no longer brought them any pleasure. Eating now was simply how they got their body to run, no longer the wonderful multifaceted experience it once was. It was like the pain would suck up everything good and spit out longing and sadness that they could no longer participate in anything with any amount of joy.
This is when they decided that they were going to follow through on Five Pebbles' request.
They had told no one before, they did not want the madness that had engulfed the parents of the iterators to infect their colony. But they could not go on this way any longer.
So, under the glow of the lanterns The Gormand had made a request to The Brave. An expedition east toward the lands of the rain beasts. Only the strongest of the colony and The Gormand. They would deposit Gourmand at the bottom of the world in the golden fissure and were to never tell anyone the truth as to where they had gone.
The Brave had initially rejected the idea, but eventually caved. The expedition was sent. The Gourmand would be seeing the land to the east one last time.
Getting past the retaining wall was the first challenge. They could either go up or down. Gourmand had made this journey more times than they could count and swiftly gave directions, expertly navigating them up the seemingly endless expanse of wall.
The next issue hadn’t come until a few cycles later when a blue lizard no one had seen got a tongue around Gourmand's foot. None of them had any weapons on them, having recently encountered a caramel, and so they were forced to think quickly.
The Heavy, one of the accompanying scugs, saw a pole above the lizard and scrambled to get up while the others tried to pull Gourmand off the lizard. The Heavy fell down from the pole with a crunch onto the lizard's back and The Gourmand fell free. Gourmand was briefly proud before the weight of the pain from being flung backwards slammed into them full force. They had to keep going.
Before they knew it, they were climbing down into the dark maze-like depths. Luckily, they had come prepared with lanterns for all but Gourmand who naturally glowed with enlightenment stolen from the easily-irritated iterator. The bright glow made navigating the tunnels trivial, and soon enough they were all facing a long tunnel, so long in fact that they could not see the bottom even with all the parties' light sources combined. The Burly kicked a stone down and waited for a noise, but none ever came.
For the last time Gourmand considered. Is this really what they want? Life is cyclical, they could come back and make memories anew. Were they really ready for this? Their whole life had been dedicated to family and food, connections and bonds stronger than steel. Reminiscing there, they were almost tempted to step away. But the choice was made for them long ago. Their soul had lived a life long enough, it was time to go home.
With that they slowly, painfully, made their way down.