The troubles of knowing yourself

Benny's Quest, Part 1

Months ago, the day she fell...
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She'd...told him to wait for her. She was going to check if the coast was clear. That...had been half an hour ago. And the fighting sounds had stopped, like, fifteen minutes ago. He didn't want to assume the worst, but...

Benny peeked his head out from behind the rock. No one. Nothing, nothing more than the splatters of ink on the ground from the fight. Reddish purple, Octarian color, and bright neon green, that of...that Inkling.

All Octarians recognized the preferred color of their mortal enemy. But what was she doing all the way out here?

Benny paced about, trying to figure out what had happened. The ink didn't give him any idea as to who won, and he doubted they fell in the big hole. He knew Garratia well, she wasn't clumsy, and if that Inkling's prowess in infiltrating their old home was any indication, then she probably wasn't clumsy either.

The longer he stared down into the hole, though, the more he began to worry. What if she did fall in? Anything could happen in the heat of battle. And...it would explain why she hadn't come back. But surely...hmm...he wasn't sure, but it was worth investigating, right?

He leaned forward, peering down into the depths. He couldn't see the bottom...it was like it was a void that absorbed all light...

He would've missed the sound of the rustling bush behind him, but he was on edge, and the slightest noise made him panic.

What he saw when he whipped around was no bird foraging, no. It was a tall figure, dressed in what he'd call a hazmat suit if he'd known the word, gripping some weapon in their hands. It was like a syringe made into an ink weapon.

He hastily turned his propeller hat back on, flying above the figure and trying to put some distance between them. He didn't know who or what they were, but as an Octarian and a fugitive, odds were good that whoever they were, they did not mean him well.

The figure propelled off the ground as if super jumping, and grabbed Benny by the leg.

"Hey, let me go!" He yelled. The figure did not comply, and their weight began to drag the Octocopter down.

Benny began to panic. At their current trajectory, they'd both fall into the pit. He shot a bullet of ink at the figure, and the proximity was enough to compensate for his bad aim. The figure's grip on his leg loosened, and Benny managed to shake them loose.

Foolishly, he stuck around for a moment to watch them fall. Into the pit they went...

The Octocopter turned, unsure of where to go. He wanted to wait a bit longer for Garratia, in case she hadn't fallen down, but...he could always go back for reinforcements. There were plenty of other Octarians who had heard the song, so-

His deliberation was cut off by a shot of ink, laser-targeted in accuracy, flying out of the pit and making direct contact with his propeller.

It collided with the machinery in a small explosion of sparks and ink, and he went spinning towards the ground. Or, that was the direction he was headed, but then the ground gave way to cliff-face, and soon he was headed straight off the cliff.

He wrestled the air for control, or at least tried to for a solid minute, before he truly began to fear for his life. He flew headfirst into the side of the cliff, and he was out like a light.

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He awoke to the smell of smoke, and a quickly fading sunset. He pulled himself to his feet, and noticed immediately that his head felt like it was on fire.

After a brief moment of panicked stillness, he violently shook his head, dislodging the smoldering, broken propeller helmet. It was completely ruined. There'd be no way to fix it.

He spat some ink on the ground and stuck his face in it. It was all he could do to ease the burn at that moment.

Once he didn't feel like melting, he kicked the helmet off he ledge he was on, watching as it rolled haphazardly down the mountainside. He'd say 'good riddance,' but he was too annoyed at being land-bound now.

He peered over the ledge. It wasn't too steep, all things considered. He could slide down if he needed to. He looked up next; there weren't enough footholds for him to get back up. And even if there were, climbing wasn't exactly any Octocopter's strong suit. They had those propeller helmets for a reason. Multiple reasons really, but that was definitely one of them.

He let out a sigh. Down it was, then.

He carefully set a foot down on the loose soil, and then the other foot. He began to slide, just slow enough that he wouldn't begin to tumble uncontrollably. It was times like these that made him wish he had arms.

As he slowly made his way down, he observed his surroundings. This side of Mount Nantai was almost completely barren, aside from...

He squinted. That looked like...some sort of...floating village on the water? That...what was that?

He thought back, long and hard, to maps he'd seen of the area. And by maps, he meant map, singular. And by seen, he meant glanced at in passing. If he thought about it hard enough, maybe he recognized it. Maybe? Kinda sorta?

No. No he had no idea where he was or what that village was.

Either way, it was all he had to go on if he didn't want to live in the wilderness. He could only hope it wasn't filled with Inklings.

Benny continued to slide down the mountainside, just an Octocopter without the copter part. It was humiliating.

It took a good while to actually get to the bottom, and by the time he did, darkness had claimed the area. He had good night vision, being an Octarian, but it was probably best to camp for the night.

Without supplies of any kind, all he could do was ink a bunch of dirt and hope it deterred anything from getting him. He curled up in the middle of his ink puddle, and slept.