Interstellar Soul-traveling for Imprudent Novices

Thjazin felt like dying. For a flashing nonsensical moment, he regretted the more-than-bold dosage of purpleslants that now broiled his blood from inside out. A bright-edged resonance lulled in his bones, hot and cold.

He threw up into a vat he’d reserved for that particular purpose, and felt instantly better.

He wiped his face and lied down, easing into it. He chewed on some peppermint leaves to ease the rest of the nausea, and to lift his spirits. This wasn’t his first auroch-hopping — it was supposed to feel horrible at first, and it was already passing. He focused on his breath and relaxed into it. The discomfort passed the more he let go, and the bed under him began to feel liquid soft.

He melted into the rhizome-embroidered embrace of his quilt like a fallen leaf.

With a long exhale, he sunk further underground, into the brimming moist coolness of the earth. It was claustrophobic and peaceful at the same time, the ancient musty embrace of the dark mothers below, the Death and Decay from which new life sprang. The relentless buzz of invisible life all around was a polyphonic hum that tickled Tjazin’s skin.

He only needed to send his attention a little further down to feel nice and warm. But he didn’t gaze on the molten core of the planet this time, knowing well how it might gaze back. He wasn’t ready to be overwhelmed to tears quite yet. He had another destination in mind for today.

And he would need his strength for the journey.

Thoroughly coated with the protective power of his homeland’s soil, Thjazin’s soul-body peeled out of the ground like a sprout of amaranth. The pristine blue sky hugged him with freshness, and the open air felt magnificent. Thjazin’s hair stretched out into the sun, long webs of sentient tendrils that pulsed life and breathed it in. A thrum of excitement lapped inside him as he gazed up at the great highways above, mind reaching towards the worlds beyond.

His guide —his ride— appeared at the periphery of his senses, approaching.

The trickster angel Nandir floated down on a cloud of rainbows like the massive dramatic tramp they were, their presence warm as hearthfire, fresh and boisterous as a mountain brook and electric as lighting. Despite himself, Thjazin’s breath caught, even back in his physical body — he allowed himself to be bathed in this otherworldly loveliness for a pleasant moment, knowing exactly that this was the desired effect. The angel’s form was even more ridiculously pretty than usual — a lean youngster with eyes of gold, a sun-caressed skin and wavy long hair that was the exact molten bronze hue of a sunset.

The ancient celestial flashed a smug grin at Thjazin as they offered their hand.

“My little human,” they said in a voice that purred deep in Thjazin’s bones. “Are you quite sure about this? The Council of Elders might punish you for overstepping your rank.” Nandir’s slanted smile was a tell-tale sign that they themselves found Thjazin’s ambitions delightful, actually.

The Trickster had their own agenda, as always. Probably several. If Thjazin was a more cautious creature by nature, he’d be worried.

But he wasn’t, so he stepped closer to his chosen ally, ready to play the game. He knew that Nandir adored those who broke norms. Thjazin would demonstrate just how worthy of their support he was.

He leveled his challenge in a pouty little quirk of lips. “Get me to Gynomeda and back again in one piece,” he slid his palm against the angel’s bare chest. It crackled faintly under his touch. “And if I get in trouble because of it, you’ll have a first-row seat to just how well I take my punishments.”

A slow, delighted chuckle rumbled below Thjazin’s fingertips. “Audacious little thing, aren’t you?” The angel’s fingers wrapped around Thjazin’s, and the celestial lifted them to their lips, giving them a chaste little kiss. “Are you saying that you want me by your side through thick and thin?” Their golden eyes glinted as they gazed down at Thjazin.

Thjazin knew he was being seduced, or perhaps just toyed with. He’d apparently been by himself too much lately, because it was kind of working.

But he knew better than to make any promises to this particular angel.

“Help me achieve my goal…” he uttered, his gaze stopping at those lovely quirked lips before meeting the golden stare, “and I might be swayed to become your follower full-time, O’ Radiant One.” He tipped his head and curled his arms around the angel’s neck, a roguishly innocent smile on his lips. “But only if we prove to be a good team, though. What’s the point, otherwise? We wouldn’t want to hold each other back.”

The Trickster snorted. “Surely you’d be incapable of doing that, little human.” That was one third compliment, two thirds condescension. The sharp-toothed grin that followed was a welcome reminder of Nandir’s predatory nature, a gesture that churned Thjazin’s insides in a way that didn’t warrant further examination. “But you have me intrigued,” they continued, “so allow me to indulge you. I’m curious to see how this goes.”

In a lustrous swish of sun’s rays and wild falcon magic, Nandir stretched out their arms into two magnificent pairs of wings that flared around them like monstrously large feathery petals. “Hold on tight,” he instructed, lofty and coy. Thjazin had to hastily wrap his legs around their waist and latch onto them with all fours to oblige.

They bolted upwards. Thjazin’s stomach caved in at the sudden speed.

His scream was stuffed back into his lungs as the mosaic of his city’s limestone buildings disappeared into a spiraling miniature below, like lines drawn to sand. The dizzying fiery swirl around them intensified, a roaring only kept at bay by the second set of angel wings, now wrapped around Thjazin like a thick golden blanket of fluffy kevlar. Of course the Trickster would make the ride purposefully rocky, so this little human would cling to them harder. It was working. Thjazin pressed his face into his companion.

Soon it got steadier, though, as they plopped out into the silent darkness beyond the atmosphere.

Thjazin dared a glance. The homeplanet —a peaceful blue-green sphere shrouded in clouds— grew smaller and smaller, vanishing right before Thjazin realized that this was too much for him already. He could feel the thread of life that bound him to his body and the Earth growing thinner. Could it break? More terror-filled thoughts flooded him, and he clutched his deliverer in a rising panic. He hadn’t made any real contingency plans — if he didn’t make it back to his body, would he be stranded forever? Could even his mentors find his soul out here? It was too vast.

A comet whooshed by, and Thjazin muffled a shriek into Nandir’s chest.

“Ah… It’s becoming real to you now, isn’t it?” The angel’s voice was part pitying, part fascinated. They flapped their wings, lazy and powerful, but it felt like the two of them only lulled in the void. “The true dimensions of the universe can be harrowing for such a small creature. But do not fret.” The Trickster’s voice went from playful to warm, but Thjazin was not comforted. “I promised to get you back in one piece, did I not?”

Thjazin tried to project his trembling voice. “Will you keep your promise, though?”

He could feel the celestial’s eye-roll. “Rude.” They sounded part offended, part amused. “When have I ever betrayed your trust?”

“You haven’t. Yet. But I know your proclivities, Trickster. You love ensnaring people into loop-holes.” Thjazin sure hoped he hadn’t left any. He’d tried not to.

“Ah. But you were careful with your wording, weren’t you?” The angel grinned, glancing down at Thjazin. “Besides… It’s mostly with people I don’t like. Those that summon me without any regard or understanding of my true nature. Ones that need a taste of their own medicine, so to speak.”

That made sense, actually, in light of all the lore surrounding Nandir. That made Thjazin feel more secure.

Still, extra insurance wouldn’t hurt. “Then you’ll have no problem to swear it by Allmother’s prosperity,” he said as non-chalantly as he could muster. “Do you swear to keep your promise to me in full, and bring me back safe and sound when I choose to leave?”

Nandir tensed a little. They were clearly annoyed.

Then, they laughed, sounding almost impressed. “I do so swear. Happy now?”

“Euphoric.” Thjazin gave his companion a little kiss on the chin, for good measure.

With all that settled, he could now enjoy the miracles that lurked around him in the dark vastness of the cosmos. The silence was dizzying, thick and empty simultaneously, somehow. In awe, Thjazin glimpsed a black hole eating up a star somewhere in the far far distance. More serene clusters of celestial giantfolk were nestled in beautiful swirling galaxies.

One of them was straight ahead. “Atrios,” Thjazin whispered, his purple eyes wide, drinking the matching glow of the galaxy that they were closing in on.

Ahead emerged a magenta-pulsing and yellow-bursting double star that nursed the solar system they’d been headed to all this time, traveling across a daunting distance of 4,89 lightyears, one and a half parsecs. A pinprick of a planet came into view.

“Can you slow down for a bit?” Thjazin asked his partner, and was generously indulged. He dampened the urge to call Nandir ‘a good boy’ in favor of not being soul-dumped into the scorching alien suns or something similar. Better not tempt the Fates.

Instead, he breathed deep. It felt good to be still.

And the sight was even more queer and magnificent than Thjazin had ever imagined.

A marble ball of luminous purple —of various shades from dark to light— was shrouded in rolling dirty orange and wisps of light blue. Thjazin recalled from his recent astromancy lectures that the warm-colored curls were actually raging storms filled with sulphur and bits of rust. According to research, the uneven light blue outermost layer was produced by unknown gases from the surface, created by the planets guardian giants for equally unknown —but perhaps protective— purposes. After this trip, maybe Thjazin would have a couple of answers to the astromancer’s unanswered questions.

“Okay… I’m ready.” Thjazin said.

“I wonder about that,” Nandir muttered gleefully, but Thjazin ignored it.

Instead he held on tight again as they flew through the slicing howl of wind that would have been so eager to rip Thjazin’s skin out of his flesh, the flesh out of his bones, had there been any. Cocooned under the golden feathers, he was amazed at the blatant crushing violence of the stratosphere. Even his guardian seemed to have to exert themselves a little in order to make it through — but soon, the troposphere level spanned below.

It was a rippling sea formed entirely by caps of gigantic mushrooms — The Purple Guardians of Gynomeda.

As they advanced, Thjazin gasped and blinked at the mind-shattering size of these fleshy living hills and calderas. The earthly grandchildren of these hulks had been so dainty on Thjazin’s palm as he’d swallowed them earlier that day. So these were the Elder Purpleslants, a distant grandparent of the same vision-giving fungi that now coursed through Thjazin’s body and allowed his soul to travel and perceive with such crisp vividness. In fact, he could feel the rhizomatic creature fused into his being glowing with curiosity and joy at their arrival to its celestial homeland. He felt bubbly sweet and giddy right down to the marrow.

Thjazin let go of Nandir and floated, taking in the marvelous views of this alien haven.

Below the sea of caps, the air felt still and clean — although Thjazin’s physical lungs would probably pop at one single drag of the wild concoction of gases that made the atmosphere here. But now, it felt moist and warm. A faint clean, salty smell —a mixture of the ocean, disinfectant and electricity— flowed to Thjazin’s senses. It was strange, but not unpleasant.

Below, the mushroom stems stooped down forever — Thjazin reached for Nandir instinctively, and the angel laced their fingers together with a self-satisfied smile. “It goes down for twenty kilometers before ground level,” Thjazin whispered in awe, realizing too late that he was giving more ammo to the Trickster’s condescending remarks about his human tinyness. But Nandir held their tongue, apparently entertained enough for the moment by Thjazin’s raw astonishment. “Five kilometers before the first city,” they only said, smirking. “Would you like to go and have a look?”

Thjazin nodded, excitement purring in his gut.

They descended.

Soon, drawbridges and terraces came to view, accompanied by a myriad of carved holes on the stem, like insect-bitten routes on an old tree trunk. But as they came closer, it was apparent how much larger the holes — doors and windows— were. It was difficult for Thjazin to parse what material the built structures were made from — it looked fleshy and luminous, just like the purpleslants themselves, yet was somehow hardened to withstand the wear and tear. The people of Gynomeda lived like birds in their vast mushroom-trees, carving their dwellings right into their skin tissue of their gigantic guardians.

One platform was larger than the others. People were gathered there whom, from afar, didn’t look all that different from earthlings, apart from their skins being varying tones of greyish purple.

Thjazin drifted closer, and Nandir followed.

The natives were at least a few heads taller than him. Their ears were longer and downcast, like those of a strat-doe. Their eyes were of varying flame-like shades from gold to orange to red, hair long and coiled into shining fabrics that were more ornaments than clothes. They were long-limbed and slender, and lacking any apparent sexual characteristics. They looked gentle, somehow — but that could just be an impression created by the downcast ears. Up closer, Thjazin could see that their bodies were covered all over in a thin silky coat of hair.

And now, while Thjazin was ogling to his heart’s content, they were all turning their heads to stare at him. Most paused what they were doing. Looks varied from wide-eyed curiosity to squinting suspicion, even disdain. Cold flushed along Thjazin’s spine —he hadn’t even considered that he might be visible to these people in his spirit form— but Nandir put their hand to his shoulder reassuringly.

They spread their arms wide and spoke something that sounded like an eloquent greeting, but of course it could’ve been something else entirely. Thjazin’s insides throbbed with discomfort. He side-eyed Nandir who looked magnificently smug as the foreign words rolled off his tongue. They’d known that this would happen, that was certain. Like a directeur of a show introducing the cast, they flared their fingers towards Thjazin.

“I told them that you are a prince from another world, curious about their way of life,” the angel muttered under their breath. “Now bow down with a flourish and and say ‘Mathrii-gishni aglaunik adheir.’”

As the crowd was staring at him expectingly, Thjazin did as told, doing his best to parrot the words exactly. The people relaxed a little, murmuring among themselves. At least Thjazin hadn’t insulted anyone’s mother or some such. “You could’ve told me that this would happen,” he accused Nandir, sharp and quiet. “What did you make me say?”

“Just a polite phrase to beseech hospitality. And I wasn’t entirely sure this would happen. Besides, you didn’t ask for my insight, did you?” They gave him a breezy grin, and Thjazin glared back.

A shout cut the air, and Thjazin’s heart lurched.

Someone was pointing at them and raging, light blue specks of spit flying. A ripple of gasps spread through the gathered folk. The racket escalated — another, older-looking person continued to shout with even more brimstone. They raised a gem-fitted staff. “O-oh,” the Trickster said. “Apparently one of your ancestors corrupted a sacred relic here, some two hundred years ago.”

“What?”

“Or at least you look similar enough to someone who did. Shitty luck, huh? Careful—” Nandir pulled Thjazin out of the way of a whistling beam of something that burst from the raised staff. “I’m pretty sure you don’t want that to hit you. Shall we go back now?”

“Yes, please,” Thjazin cried.

Nandir pulled him to their arms, and he welcomed the dizzying swirl of their return. Shouting aliens and soul-ripping beams were left behind like a bad dream.

Except all of that had actually happened.

Back in his body in his bed, back on his planet, Thjazin blinked and panted. His heart kept being battered against his ribcage. “Holy madness,” he breathed, frazzled and ecstatic.

Nandir was still there, although his form was less vivid now. They curled beside him like a cat, and Thjazin considered shoving them to the floor for putting him on the spot. But they had kept their promise, hadn’t they? Considering their reputation, they’d even been surprisingly helpful. It was Thjazin’s own lack of caution and preparation that had made the excursion backfire. He would learn from this and try again, later.

Besides, after all that fuckery, cuddles were a soothing prospect.

“Guess there’s a real reason why junior mages don’t casually waltz into Gynomeda,” Thjazin mused dryly. “Did you have your fun, Trickster?”

“Yes. But I’ve been mostly behaving, haven’t I?” they purred.

“I guess. As much as it’s reasonable to expect.” Relenting, Thjazin directed his spirit-fingers into the celestial’s hair. The rhizomae, still pleasantly buzzing inside him, made it easy.

“I could help you prepare better next time?” Nandir offered, tipping his face closer.

“Thanks, but I think I’ll restrict my travels to one solar system for a while.” Thjazin’s attention wandered to the annoyingly lovely curve of Nandir’s lips. “Now, can you shut up and soothe your little human, please? I think my soul needs to be properly squeezed back into my body.”