🖤 Fallen sat in the fields of fog and stars and ice, bored of their life and bored of the same stars. That is- until they saw something unusual. A golden rabbit. Well- it was more of a boy with curly golden hair, freckles, and blue eyes the color of the sky, but there appeared to be the silhouette of a rabbit around him, like an aura. So he might as well be a golden rabbit. Either way, Fallen immediately became infatuated and simply HAD to follow him.
And they did. All the way to a grave. A grave that the golden rabbit dove into and Fallen followed without a second thought. It was as they were falling, however, did they realize how silly it was to jump into a grave with a golden rabbit, and how the hole of the grave seems to be continuing on and on seemingly for forever. It, in fact, did not continue on forever, but they fell for so long that they turned upside down and landed on their head. The only thing that kept them from breaking their neck was a bed or a net of silver snowdrops. Upon righting themself and surveying the area, Fallen realized they were surrounded by large, perfectly cut obelisks of dark stone, marked with thousands of names. The stones began to glow a hazy teal green as a mist rolled in, and a voice like a low rumble of thunder could be heard. “Child of the frost, cub of the dead, why do you come here?” it asked, and Fallen replied honestly, “I followed the golden rabbit, because I had to.” At this, the mist formed into a man, tall and broad and tired. He wore a robe or a dress of white and gray, with a long black beard and black hair tied up neatly in a bun. His face was grim and sorrowful, his blank white eyes spilling tears constantly, though he did not weep. A crown of jewels perched his head. His tusks were snapped down to broken stumps. Fallen would’ve been in awe of him if they didn’t feel like crying. “Who are you?” they asked. The figure replied, “The Mist King.”
“Why do you look so sad?”
“Because the world has forsaken me, and because you must be here to witness it.”
“Bad things happen all the time, but good things happen too!”
“Not for me. Not anymore. But maybe that can change…” The Mist King held out a knife to Fallen, a silver knife, and as they took it, it felt right at home in their hands, “You’ll need this if you follow that rabbit. Happiness lies beneath the twisted roots.” He bowed his head and Fallen curtseyed. The mists faded and a sea rose around them.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The sea smelled like rotten flesh, but Fallen didn’t mind. Though it was a little jarring to see huge mushrooms grow from the waters, especially when one grew right under them. It was surprisingly soft, like a nice velvet blanket. What was even more surprising was when a mushroom sprouted from the water with a rotting crocodile, at least, Fallen thought it was. He wore the outfit of a captain, a comically large hat on his head and an even comically larger hookah pipe in his hand. The odd part was, where legs were supposed to be, was a massive tail, slowly swishing back and forth. He was humming a tune through puffs of multicolored smoke, before he snapped open an amber eye and stared at Fallen strangely. “‘Scuse me, yer interruptin me hummin,” he said in a rough voice. Fallen scowled, “I haven’t said anything, I’m literally just standing here.” The pirate frowned deeply and slithered to the edge of his mushroom, getting right up in their face. “Now don’t get smart wit me, duck. I may be high as a seabird right ‘bout now, but I aint no fool. I know a thrill-seeker when I see one.”
“I don’t want whatever you’re smoking, I just want to find the golden rabbit!”
“Well yer not gonna find em’ here! How’d ya even get here, duck?”
They took a deep breath, “I took a boat made out of mist, but I ran out of tracks and now I’m stuck here. Who even are you, or are you too high to think right now?” The pirate chuckled and blew a ring of smoke, “Me name’s the Kutlass Caterpillar, fearsome pirate of the dead seas.”
“Caterpillar? You look more like a crocodile.”
“I said I was a croc, duck.”
“But you just said you were a caterpillar.”
“Naw I didn’, why would I say that? Ya need your ears checked.”
Fallen scoffed, “You’re impossible.” The Kutlass shrugged and leaned back, “Now your just makin stuff up. Tell ya what, I’ll point ya in tha direction of that rabbit, but ya gotta go through tha woods and talk to tha Cheshire Cat.” They gripped their knife tightly.
“I fear no woods or cats, and nothing will keep me from finding my happiness.”
This seemed to satisfy the Kutlass Croc, so he huffed some smoke and puffed out an arrow leading to the big, twisted forest.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
But navigating a forest that changed tree types every 3.4 minutes was rather disorienting. After several 3.4 minutes of wandering through sycamores, pines, oaks, and trees made of amber and resin, Fallen found themself right back where they started, at the singular dead tree in the entire forest. However, this time, they found that they were not alone. A man sat lounged back in the dead branches, though it was hard to tell where man ended and tree began, as he looked like no man at all, but a moth. And his eyes were the peculiar color of mirrors, and a wide smile was plastered on his face. “Excuse me, sir,” Fallen began, catching the man’s attention, “are you the Cheshire Cat?” The man gave them a strange look, gesturing to all of him, “Do I look like a cat to you?”
“Uh, no. But are you?”
He smiled as if he’s stopped, sitting up right, “I’m not a cat, I’m a tree. My name is the Cheshire Moth. People only find me if they’re lost.”
Fallen crossed their arms and huffed, “I’m not lost, I’m just dizzy. It’s not exactly easy to navigate this maze with only a knife to guide you.” The Cheshire Moth found this curious, and made a humming noise as he removed his head to more closely inspect them. He snapped his head back on and pondered them a question, “And what knife do you speak of? I see no knife on you?” Fallen realized what he was saying was true and searched their pocket frantically. Alas, there was in fact no knife. They nearly almost broke into tears. “My knife. My precious knife, it’s gone! It was a gift from the Mist King, and the key to finding happiness…” The Cheshire Moth burst into laughter, “The Mist King?? No wonder your knife is gone! The Queen would never allow such a thing in her domain.” For some reason, the mention of a queen filled Fallen with so much dread.
“A queen? What queen?”
“The Crooked Queen, of course. Or the Queen of Roots if you prefer, she’s certainly not picky when it comes to names. If you want your happiness, you’ll have to go to her.”
They frowned and shivered, feeling their skin crawl. They really really didn’t want to meet her, but if she was really the only way to find the golden rabbit…. “Fine. Where can I find her?” The Cheshire Moth clapped his hands together happily, his joints creaking and snapping with the sudden movement, “You’ll have to go through the Mad Garden! Once you’re there, you’ll find the way no problem.” Fallen was about to ask about this when they suddenly heard a delightful music, and immediately knew where to go. They waved goodbye to the Cheshire Moth and hurried into a thicket of rose bushes.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The music pulled them into a lovely garden, the Mad Garden, where in the center of rose bushes and moon-lilies and golden orchids was a long dinner table, filled with treats and best of all, tea. The music came from the cheeriest creature, a scarecrow, with a tan burlap sack head, a sunset colored wide-brimmed hat, and the finest high-collard vermilion suit jacket Fallen had ever seen. In fact, it seemed as though with each strum of this scarecrow’s banjo, a different ray of color would bounce across the garden. Sitting at the head of the table was a man with blond hair, not unlike the golden rabbit’s, but a bit paler. He was dressed in ivory and gold, and perched on his head was a red tophat adorned with rose petals, which seemed to be intertwining down into his hair. Across from the scarecrow was a third person, a lady, though calling her a person was a bit misleading, as she seemed to be made entirely of moonlight and flowers, with hair made of white moon-lily petals, and a shadow over where a face should be. The two seemed to be listening intently and happily to the scarecrow’s music, and hardly noticed Fallen’s entrance until a beam of color hit them. The scarecrow stopped and gasped happily, “Well now, what did I tell you two! A guest, just as I predicted!” He motioned for Fallen to sit next to him, which they did, “I’m the Merry Scarecrow, and this is my best gent, the Hatter Vampire, and his best gal, the Lady of Flowers.” Fallen dipped their hat which dissolved from their hands and the Hatter dipped his hat back. “Charmed, young one,” replied the Lady, scooting a cup of snowdrops towards them. They sipped from it, but it tasted like silver, so they drank it all. “My friend the cat said you could tell me where the Crooked Castle is,” they began, “Is that true?” The three fell silent, so silent you could hear a banjo strum, though none did. The Hatter folded his hands together and rested his chin on his hands, quiet and thinking, so Merry spoke instead, “We don’t go near that castle, not after the Jabberwocky came pokin his head through.” The Hatter shot Merry a look and put a shushing finger to his fangs. Fallen tilted their head, “What’s the Jabberwocky?”
“A beast made of scales and feathers,” the Lady said quietly, “A monster that attacks if you say it's true name, so we call it the Jabberwocky. It sleeps outside the Crooked Castle.” The Hatter nodded in agreement and sipped some crimson blood, “It’s troublesome, really, especially since it became encased in ice.” that didn’t make sense to them. Wouldn’t a creature being trapped in ice be a good thing? But Merry shook his head, “You don’t understand, Fallen. Nothing can hold it back, not unless someone gets the key from the golden rabbit.” Fallen choked on their tea and set the cup down, “I’m looking for the golden rabbit! Maybe I can help trap the Jabberwocky!” The Hatter looked doubtful. The Lady looked sorrowful. Merry looked hopeful, “I bet you can! Allow me to assist.” And he stood and took Fallen’s hand.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Fallen and the Merry Scarecrow crept along the path to the Crooked Castle, the trees and roses turning to ice as they went along. Did Fallen do this? They’d never seen so much ice before. Merry winked at them knowingly, which didn’t make them feel any better about the situation. When the two came across the Jabberwocky, Merry grew quiet and stiff, as if he knew what was coming. Fallen certainly didn’t, until they saw it. The Jabberwocky, a massive dragon-crow. Its entire metal caged ribs were exposed, but the rest of its torso was covered in ice. It seemed to be sleeping, but lucky for them, a friend appeared. “Such a strange circumstance,” said the Cheshire Moth, “for a cub and a scarecrow to find themselves here. Don’t you know the guard of the castel lurks here too? You can find them if you hear the static.” Merry flinched at this, but Fallen stood their ground, “No spirit will harm us here because we’re not looking for one!”
“Right you are, you’re looking for this,” replied the Cheshire Moth, pulling out their knife. Fallen gasped, “How did you find that?!” He smiled again and changed its angle. It wasn’t the knife, but a key, which was rather disappointing. “I took it from the golden rabbit. You’ll need it for this puzzle,” he said and flipped the key to Fallen. They caught it and scowled, “Please tell me you didn’t hurt my happiness for it.” The Cheshire Moth shrugged and shook his head, “It wasn’t me, but the queen. I can help you if you want-” but Fallen had already moved on. Merry wasn’t there anymore, and neither was the Cheshire Moth. It was just them and the Jabberwocky. A screech echoed from the trees, like static, a name that Fallen didn’t hear. The Jabberwocky’s name. It stirred and lifted its massive head, clicking its disgusting beak. It let out a caw, which hurt Fallen greatly, and they dropped the key as they fell to their knees.
“Need some help, duck?”
They were delighted to find the Kutlass Croc and the Hatter standing next to them. Fallen nodded and the Kutlass Croc spun the key around his finger, his massive tail curling around them in momentary comfort. The Hatter Vampire gave them a flower, “Go. We’ll take care of this, and of Merry.” They knew what to do, and so did Fallen. So they ran.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Fallen ran so fast, tears were spilling down their cheeks. Never before had they felt so dreadful. Their knife was gone, Merry was in trouble, and they had to find the golden rabbit all by themself. They ran until they tripped and fell right in the hall of the Crooked Castle. It was dark, gloomy, and humid. Amber sap littered the ground and walls. It reminded Dante of summer. They righted themself and shook their head.
“It’s you! You found me!!”
They looked around in surprise until they saw him. Their happiness. The golden rabbit boy was even more stunning up close. A great warmth of sunlight shone around him. “I knew you’d find me, you always do,” he said gently. Fallen’s heart raced as they took his hands. He stepped closer to them. Fallen closed their eyes. But it all felt too easy. It all felt wrong. They shook their head and stepped back.
“Dante? What’s wrong?”
“No…you’re not him. You’re not Cassius. Where is my knife?”
The golden rabbit frowned, grief in his eyes. He placed a hand on their chest and tugged. The knife slid from their chest. It was a horrible pain. Fallen pulled and pulled until the entire blade was free. Dark blood pooled around them. Fallen smiled. She smiled back. “You’ve come to tha right place, child. You will find yer happiness.” Roots crept up and along Fallen’s legs, twisting and twining their way up their torso and slowly spiraling around their neck. Dante could still hear the sounds of him struggling. They breathed out slowly and closed their eyes. “That’s it, let it happen…you’ll feel so free…”
Free? Is that true? The Crooked Queen sounded so sure, which means…
They started struggling, pulling hard at the roots. “No! No this isn’t freedom! This isn’t happiness!!” they began to sob, “Let me go!! Let him go!! I wanna go home! Please-” They gasped and choked on blood. Who was the man standing in front of them? Why did they hear shouting? ‘Witch! Witch! Burn them!! Devil’s child!!’ But Dante didn’t do anything. Why did he look so angry? “Dad, please….”
The roots suddenly retracted, dropping Fallen to the floor. They inhaled deeply, one breath after another. Mist had rolled in, and the Crooked Queen was furious. “Do not fret, my cub of the dead,” said the Mist King, holding his great shovel in eternal judgment. The Cheshire Moth slinked in too, a genuine grin on his face, “You are not alone.” Fallen blinked tears from their eyes as they saw everyone. The Merry Scarecrow, the Kutlass Croc. The Vampire Hatter and the Lady of Flowers were there too, just a bit further back. Their friends. Their family. The Crooked Queen spat out bloodied sap and cackled, “As if any of you are truly free. Even you, Thrall. You’re s’pposed to be MINE!!” The Cheshire Moth shook his head, his neck no longer twisted, “I’m sick of you, wretched queen. It’s time to let the golden rabbit go.” She hissed out something Fallen couldn’t understand and charged at him, claws outstretched. Fallen rushed forward, knife drawn. They felt in control for once in their entire life. There was a clashing. A noise like a scream. Withering back roots. And that beautiful, golden light. He pressed his forehead against Fallen’s.
“It’s time for you to actually save me, Magpie,” Cassius said, “Because now you see that you’re not alone.”
And Fallen woke up.
