Authors Corner

Dear reader,

I hope that you enjoy the character development this chapter.

I'd also like to note that I feel a tiny bit proud that none of these words in the last 3 chapters had been written 24 hours prior to this. Yesterday, when I started, I couldn't possibly have imagined writing almost 9,000 words by today.

Please smash this pride with scathing remarks about my writing, my countenance, or possibly my mother. Just leave poor Wilson alone, he's been through a lot.

Chapter 3 – What rolls down, must come up.

Wilson ([Insert Accolades]).

Midair.

4 weeks later.

I've had time to think.

I'm certain of at least three things.

First, I still really want magic, specifically Fire Magic. I don't know if it exists, I don't care if it doesn't, but I want it. I'll make it myself if I have to. This is a given.

Second, I really want to get off of this damned clam. It's not so bad most of the time but there are moments when it shakes so fiercely that I'm launched into the air. Last time it happened I went above tree height. I'm going to estimate that I made it 10 meters skywards, which is thus far my personal best. Small wins, right?

Clearly, this clam is not a calm clam. It doesn't really hurt being tossed around, but since it said tossing goes on at times for more than an hour, it causes me nausea. Could you call it sea-sickness? Ugh.

My only comfort is this regard is that there are other land animals here and they don't seem too concerned by being juggled by this demented mollusc. I have to wonder who's actually demented though. On one hand, there is a clam the size of a small country that's jumping around or smacking it's lips for no discernible reason. On the other hand, there are a bunch of animals, myself included, that currently live on its back. If it were a deadly submersible clam, there wouldn't be any land animals. If I'm wrong about this, the animals, myself included, are the demented ones.

Thinking back on my actions during the last few weeks, I'm going to tentatively say the odds are 50-50.

Finally, I'm absolutely positive that the Bastard god, otherwise known to me as That Being that landed me Here, stupid-face, and my new favorite, because I'm lazy, TBG, is honestly screwing with me. I've had enough time during my bouncy ball act to think over all the possible reasons why I'm in this world in the first place. I feel like I was told those reasons, but then TBG decided to yank them away from me, along with the majority of my memories.

Oh, wait a second.

That tree I just cleared was definitely taller than the last one. I'm going to estimate that it is around 13 meters tall. That's a new record.

Where was I?

Right, there is a reason I believe TBG is screwing with me, and that is because I can't think of any other reason for me to be here. Why did receive these powers that aren't the powers I wanted? Why do I have no memory of what I was told, except for the vague notion of “Do whatever, I guess” ? I'm stupid, so there might be a good reason, but for now I can only believe that I'm here solely for TBG's entertainment. It would explain a lot.

It's fine though. I've come to terms with this fact. I'm still going to do whatever I feel like, with a notion that at a distant point in the future, I'm going to work out a way to get some form of revenge.

I'm fine if it's petty revenge because I'm a petty person.

At least I think I was.

In the meantime, I'll have to deal with these bizarre situations.

Oh! That tree was 15 meters tall. I'm on a roll today.

---

Wilson, the land lover.

Near a strange wooden structure.

1 hour later.

The urge to vomit has passed. I waited near my crudely built anti-walrus shelter just in case the urge was too great. If I were to get sick, I'd probably just call it a day. However, the chances of me vomiting were next to none. You have to have food inside your stomach to vomit, right?

Which reminds me of a whole host of other things that I strongly suspect but can't really prove. Beyond reasonable doubt at least.

I have a suspicion that I have no need to eat, drink, breathe, defecate, urinate, or gesticulate.

Scratch the last one, the need to gesticulate is confirmed, so it's off of the list. I have this unyielding urge that is currently causing me to send unpleasant gestures skywards again. I only have TBG to thank for that.

The newly reformed list isn't where I stopped investigating however.

Out of curiosity, I wrestled off the robe I've been wearing, which turned out to be surprisingly difficult. It had a loose outer layer that was flowing around me but the inner layer was practically stuck to my skin. More disturbingly, the inner layer was practically skin itself. The inner layer had been covering my hands and feet, but it the material is so thin at my extremities that I hadn't noticed it up until I was peeling away. It took significant effort to remove because of how tight it was against my skin.

To make it worse, the layers are attached in a bizarre way. I eventually figured out that the ever-changing mottled areas are where the two layers connect. I was nearly certain at that point that this robe is magical.

Once I had the robe off, it seemed to grow a fair amount, but more importantly I started to feel strange. Naked. I mean, I was actually naked, but I also felt … mentally naked. I tried engaging in my normal pastime of hitting trees, expecting myself to be weakened, but it was blasted away as per usual. Tree-KO.

Satisfied that my body was doing fine, I left the robe off for a while and eventually a curious thing started to happen. I started to get hungry. For the better part of the month I had not known the feeling of hunger, so those first pangs were startling enough that I was back in the robe in the time it takes to say “bearded walrus meat”, which is precisely what I did not want to have to eat.

It had grown enough that it took no time at all to pull it over my body again. As soon as I had had it up to my neck I felt it shrink and slither into a perfect fit. The feeling of it doing so still haunts me.

Since I'm only an idiot, and not the most moronic human in existence, it only took me a minute before I started peeling myself out of the robe again. As soon as it was off, the earlier pang of hunger was still noticeable but subdued.

From my amazing deductive abilities and my willingness to experiment, I can only assume that this robe is actually sustaining me. I want it to be magic, so I'm going to forge ahead and say that it's magical. It's a magical item for me, at the very least. I haven't seen any fresh water on this clam, so if I weigh the importance to my livelihood, between my body and this robe, this robe is probably the winner.

Not just because I love magical things. I would never have survived if I had needed fresh water.

It's a depressing thought.

…

The only other thing that I experimented with was my bubbles. I can make ten at a time. That is all I want to think about the subject, I don't even want to call them mine.

I honestly can't think about the bubbles without getting upset.

Ah. I'm upset now.

What I find always calms me down is talking my frustration away with the help of some nearby trees.

By 'talking', I mean punching of course. Let's not forget an occasional kick.

After a brief 'chat', I feel relieved and also made some progress towards my current project.

No, the project isn't deforestation.

I'm working on improving my carpentry skills. This project was carefully designed by me to help me reach my goals. It helps that I'm a natural... at sourcing materials anyways.

The goals I mention are to leave this clam island and to create some fire magic. How I plan to leave the island should be obvious, I'm now at the stage of practicing building rafts. I've already had a bunch of experience building shelters.

The fire magic, however, is a different story.

I'm planning on taking a piece of the plentiful kindling and using a bubble to focus the sun on it until it burns. Then voila, I have fire magic. I don't really want to talk about the bubbles in any positive way, or even think about them for that matter, but if it's a means to achieve a fiery end, I can pull through.

My attempts thus far have only resulted in failure.

It's sad, I know, but it's the best I can do.

Since I have fresh kindling around and a growing desire to burn things, I bring out a bubble and stretch it out until it's large enough to focus light. This time I keep trying to mentally angle it until I finally see an inkling of progress. This particular stroke of genius only took me a few weeks to come up with.

The result, well, it's not much to speak of, but one of the pieces of kindling looks like it might have darkened.

Let's just say it darkened.

…

I feel hollow.

…

I barely have time to sulk before I hear a familiar barking. It's hard to tell from this distance if it's a wolf or a walrus.

I've had a few more wolf encounters since I first came, along with a strange creature I can only liken to a cross between a rock and a toad, but I only run into one of the two when I venture further uphill towards the heart of the clam. Not it's actual heart, but the center of this clam-mass.

Sorry, land-mass.

The wolves don't really bother me, it only took a few love-taps every time I saw one before they decided I wasn't worth the effort. They must have communicated it amongst the pack too, because now all of them avoid me.

The rock toads seem to have a hard time seeing me with their bulging eyes, even when I'm right beside them, but when they do see me they immediately try to last me with their weird rocky tongues. I just wait for the tongue to hit me then grab it when it does. I get in some stress relief when attacked by toads because once I have their tongue I can spin them around building up speed before finally launching them into the distance. They land wherever, but they don't come back to bother me. I doubt they're dead, they seriously look and act like rocks.

The most annoying animal by far are the bearded walruses. I've taken to building my hut further uphill, because they are apparently the apex predator of the beach. I can't see how it's possible. No animal should take them seriously considering the amount and variation of facial hair they have. I saw one that had an evil mustache with twirls in it, and another that had an even longer beard than the first. I've only seen a few in total, but they refuse to go away until I kill them. They chase me for hours until one of us dies.

Maybe I shouldn't laugh out loud every time I see one.

I'm obviously still alive. The beach just more gruesomely decorated after every encounter.

The walruses aren't stupid though, and that is why I'm on alert right now. They know where I live, somehow.

It's coming. They generally make no attempt at stealth once I've heard them, until then they are somehow capable of sneaking up on me. Every time they get really close before they announce themselves, and I'm caught unaware. I always turn around to see their strange assortment of beards and mustaches and every time I don't have the preparation required to hold my laughter.

It's like they bashfully wait for me to not be busy before giving a bark saying “What do you think of this one?” while proudly showing off their facial hairstyles.

A truly bizarre animal.

…

I must have been distracted thinking about their facial hair again, because the one barking earlier has had time to make it to my position.

I don't really have to worry as of late. I walk over and enter my shelter. I call it a shelter, but it doesn't even protect me from rain. No, it's sole purpose is walrus protection.

As soon as the idiot is in range, I just start laughing as loud as I can. It's feigned though, because this one has a completely ordinary mustache.

It's a bit disappointing.

This time the walrus doesn't even stop to showoff first. I think it must be insecure.

It just charges right for me, gaining speed to flop into the air, all building the momentum required to finally crush me.

I'm in my shelter though, it's specifically designed for walrus attacks. My shelter doesn't even have covering, it's just made of logs bent to form a dome of sorts. It looks like it could be the ribs of some giant animal, but it's actually made of the thickest trees I could find. A human can easily fit between the gaps in the logs, a walrus cannot.

This walrus certainly tries.

However, in the end, it's just an animal and is easily confounded when the hundreds of logs bend, absorbing the force of it's landing. As the logs rebound, the walrus is pushed off of the shelter and onto it's back. It's confused enough that I have the time to pop out of the shelter and punch it in the head.

The one hit beheading is really wearing me down, emotionally. Even if they're obnoxious, I don't really like killing them this way.

...I'd prefer using magic to burn their facial hair off first. If they would just back down with that, I think we could come to an understanding. I wouldn't want to mock them as much, and they wouldn't feel a need to chase me around showing me their beards.

What can I say? I'm a dreamer.

I focus back on reality, because my favorite part of a walrus attack might just be now.

Why is it my favorite? It's because of another redeeming feature of my shelter. After moving so many times, eventually I struck upon the idea to build it on this not-so-gentle slope. Now all I have to do is just drag the walrus corpse around until it's parallel to the shoreline and start it rolling back down towards the water. Bits and pieces of walrus and broken trees are in it's wake as it starts gaining momentum.

Come to think of it, who said I was stupid? It only took 3 or 4 tries to manage to build a shelter that wouldn't get crushed. This new improvement makes the corpse removal an easy two step process.

Said corpse is now finishing its almost straight run down the slope. My aim was really excellent this time.

It hit the ocean moving far faster than I can run.

Hole in one.

The splash is so massive I can feel a bit of ocean spray from here.

Oh!

Maybe that's how the creatures know where I live.

Come to think of it, the one who said I was stupid was me.

---

Wilson, the adrift.

On a raft.

The next day.

After reflecting upon my poor decision making as of late, I felt it was time to move on. I also knew with certainty it was time to get off the clam.

I had also realized I forgot one very important thing; I don't need to breathe.

In theory, this means that this entire time I could have left by simply holding my breath and swimming however long it took to get to nearby land. I had mulled it over and felt sure this body of mine was capable.

I think I had shied away from such an idea because I have no clue what lurks in the ocean's depths.

None of this really mattered though, because in the end I wasn't the one to decide when it was time for me to leave.

The clam was.

This is because it turns out this clam was, in fact, a clam of the dangerous and submersible variety.

I had first felt disturbed when I noticed bubbles in the ocean.

Bubbles.

It was a divine omen. A message undoubtedly straight from TBG himself saying that bad things would soon happen to me.

Shortly thereafter, the clam began to dive, or whatever it is that giant clams do that requires them to go underwater.

The dive was a slow process, I could barely see the shoreline slowly creeping towards me.

I didn't stress out too much.

I had all the wood I could ever need nearby and in good condition to reuse.

I tore apart my shelter and got to work making various rafts until one looked good enough to take across the water.

I hopped on and set out to sea. I'm currently lounging about, enjoying the sun.

I had made a few oars in preparation of getting bored of being adrift.

I'm already bored and want to use them but there is nowhere to go.

I don't see any land in particular on the horizon. The bumps I had seen on my second day here had only turned out to be underwater mountain peaks. Outcroppings made entirely of stone, barely reaching out of the water. When we passed by a couple weeks ago, I could tell at a glance that those rocks were uninhabited. Do humans even inhabit this world?

I'm getting a bit bummed out again...

I don't really have any options to pick from, so I guess I'll just take it easy and see where the tides take me.

---

Wilson, the lost.

On a raft, slightly less adrift.

Two weeks later.

I was in the middle of a dream about traveling the ocean forever when I was abruptly woken up.

Something had bumped into the raft. The raft I was endlessly traveling the ocean with.

My first reaction was to be scared.

My second reaction was to thank it for waking me from that awful dream.

The reaction I settled on was my third one, excitement. If something is nearby, it could mean land.

I waved a friendly thank-you towards the water but I couldn't see anything down there.

I know there are always things underneath the raft though.

I'm know for a fact there is a titanic clam somewhere in the depths, and during this last week I've seen large shadows in the water during the day. What is worse is that at night, glowing eyes of a various of shapes, colors and sizes light up the water.

All of these beings unknown. All of them beneath me right now.

I give my head a shake because I'm still sleepy. These thoughts are quickly turning into waking nightmares.

Scanning the horizon, I spot a vast range of land in the direction the raft is heading. The raft must have gained a lot of ground during the night.

I became even more excited when I could make out the color of the land. It was green. It's not as shocking as it would have been a couple weeks ago, but it was still enough to make me cry.

I'm not joking around right now, there are tears in my eyes. I'm weeping because after over a month of being on my own in a strange world, I finally see something that looks like it could be home.

I'm not naïve enough to think it will be welcoming, but just the fact that the color is familiar is enough to bring overwhelming nostalgia to my heart.

I mentioned though that it wasn't as shocking as it could have been, and it's true. Since leaving the clams wake, every day the sky has been changing from teal to it's more familiar blue. The last few days it's been hard to tell the difference between here and Earth.

The sun even stopped pulsing.

There are still two moons in the night sky, but they no longer glow eerie colors. They just continue their slow celestial waltz, clad in a boringly ordinary white.

..

…

Enough of this.

I jump directly off the raft and start swimming as fast as this body will take me. The light of dawn is just beginning to break over the ocean.

The only thought I can get into my wild head right now is “Wilson vs. Dawn's light.”

It's absurd, but I plan to race it to see which of us reaches land first. It won't be an aggressive race, since it's a race between friends. Win or lose, the light will still gently guide me forward. Guide me to take new steps, see new places, and perhaps meet humans once again.

I'm crying,

I'm smiling,

and I'm swimming at the speed of light.

---