Chapter Text
It wouldn’t budge.
Fern slammed himself against the rock door for the fourth time, bruising the already brown spots on his left arm even further. Ferns face bunched up, lines forming on the ridge of his nose. His ears twitched, and he put his hands on his hips. Fern took a few steps back, staring at the door with defiance. He growled, his right arm forming a vine and slashing at the rock, seeing if it would cut. It left a small dent on it, nothing more.
He wondered if he could try finding out a new power of his, perhaps that would open the door. Something that could either break or melt the object. He curled the vine into a circle, making the thorns poke up like a saw blade. He shrugged, testing the new device against the rock. This time the continued thorns sparked the rock, and a loose cinder bounced back at him. He flinched away. Fern drew closer to the rock, leaning his head on it.
He began to lick it.
Was acid venom a far fetch? Maybe. Was it worth the chance? Doubtedly. Did he know the difference between saliva and venom? No.
Fern was out of ideas, and as his forked tongue slid against the stone collecting soot, he wondered what his life amounted to. Sitting here, licking a rock like a fucking idiot. Fern laughed, a chittering sound, as he thought about what he was doing. He suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder, causing him to promptly spit out the black dust gathering in his mouth. He coughed, wiping his arm over his mouth, looking up at the silhouette behind him. To his surprise, it was Cinnamon Bun.
“Uhh, what are you-”
“NOTHING!” Fern shouted, his eyes darting to the scroll and small packages in Cinnamon Buns hands. “Whats this?” he asked, pointing a talon towards the rolled up piece of paper.
“A message from the King. She said you left in such a hurry that she couldn’t give you all of your new things, heheh,” CB smiled, the small fire on top of his head flaring.
Fern bloomed a few new tulips, stunned at the amount of objects CB was carrying. “All of this stuff is for me?” He muttered, dazed.
“Yes,” CB confirmed, nodding his head. Without warning, he dropped all of the items, and Fern watched in agony as they spread across the doorstep. “Well, bye!” CB yelled out, turning around and starting to walk away. Fern sighed, crouching down and organizing the things on the floor. “Oh wait!” CB appeared in front of him again, waving a keychain at him. Fern reached out to grab it, studying the shape of the key in his hands.
“Wait where does this-?” but CB had already fled, entirely gone from Fern's view. “Okaaaay,” Fern whispered, almost creeped out at the disappearance. He began to turn the key into the lock, struggling part-way through. Eventually, the door did sway open with some elbow grease. Fern was immediately met with the decayed insides of the small hut.
Fine black specks of residue covered the building from the floor to the ceiling; even the cobwebs were blacked out with this substance. A small window and desk were the only notable pieces of furniture on the first floor, adjacent to the doorway, and pointing towards the castle. The glass had to be wiped clean with Fern’s hand for him to let more sunshine into the room. A spiral staircase took up most of the space, leading to a cramped upstairs attic with a twin-size mattress on the floor. Fern couldn't breathe, but it still felt like it was hard to do so in this kind of air quality.
There were no candles or other sources of heat and light, but Fern found that entirely normal, considering that anyone who would actually live here would be made of fire themselves. He had no issue with this though, he hadn't noticed previously, but he could see extremely clearly even in dimly lit spaces. It helped that his eyes also cast a soft glow too.
Fern walked back down to the desk, picking up the items from outside and placing them onto the table. He refused to sit in a chair that looked like it had several kinds of insects crawling on it, so he only stood.
On the desk, he noticed a scroll. Its edges were burnt off, but the writing was still eligible. It contained basic details and instructions on what the boxes contained and how to start his new job.
Fern blushed at the ending, realizing that the long list of tasks was written by Phoebe herself. He wasn’t sure if he should write back, or just wait until CB came back to tell him something– or if he should just waltz back up to the castle and tell Phoebe directly. He shook his head, rolling the scroll back up and stuffing it into a drawer.
He opened the boxes one by one, and each contained a different thing. The first was basic food and water, and Fern quickly made the decision to give whatever food there was to struggling citizens of the Fire Kingdom. He could use the water for a variety of things though, so he stored a few dozen bottles onto the shelf.
He lifted up one of the wrapped food items to study it. To his surprise, it wasn't just black coals. It was a kind of flat bread, the first item, seasoned with different herbs and spices. There were an entire bundle of these. The second was an assortment of different kebabs, all made with different meats and vegetables. The third was packaged neatly into two separate bowls, one containing what looked to be a spicy style of soup or curry, and the second containing a sweet cream. He smiled at the sheer generosity of it all. Fern had never seen these foods before, and was almost mournful that he never got to try them earlier in life.
The next, smaller box was filled with mostly legal documents–things like an ID or a passport–which Fern tilted his head at. He only felt a bit curious because he was practically a mercenary before. He didn’t need these kinds of things when he wasn’t a citizen anywhere. He chittered, putting the items carefully back down into the box, sliding it away awkwardly. He wished someone could have been there to even explain how all of that junk works. Someone like Jake. He frowned, ripping the next box open a bit more forcefully than the last.
Fern winced as he noticed he tore a note that was left on the box. He sucked in air through his teeth sharply, a tentative hand pushing the two ends of the note together so he could read it fully.
‘Sorry if this next one is weird, I wouldn’t know what plants like. I hope you can use some of this, I have no use for it!’
He smiled, forgetting about his jealousy. He slowly opened the package, and it contained various gardening supplies. Fern giggled, realizing Phoebe had basically sent him a med-kit of sorts. Inside there was dirt, aloe vera, some kind of nutrient spray for growing plants, and shears. Fern carried this one upstairs and placed it onto his bed, which caused a family of spiders to skitter away from the underside. Fern shivered as he felt one crawl onto him. He looked down, patting both of his legs but not finding it. He groaned when he could actively feel it traveling throughout his body. He wondered how hollow he was, and if other creatures were already using him as a traveling home.
Fern looked out the stained window, noting that the sun was setting. He really didn’t want to sleep in here. Sighing, he dusted himself off one last time before he exited the house, heading back into the forest.
He was already feeling better by the time he got there. The Fire Kingdom wasn’t the best place for a plant. He reached the stream, looking around to see if Huntress was still there. When she wasn’t, Fern splashed his face with water, taking off his shirt to wash himself down further. Small particles of soot left his body, running down the stream.
Fern sat next to the river, looking up at the stars, watching them blink back at him. The noises of the forest were so peaceful now, much more tranquil than they had been. The small hums of crickets and the distant buzzing of cicadas, the far-off hoots of owls. Every so often, a shooting star would pass by, waving its brilliant streak of white across the sky. He remembered that he came from one of those same objects. Or, at least Finn did. Finn was probably sitting by the pond next to their house, watching the same night sky.
Did Finn ever think of him? Did his existence loom over him like he does Ferns? He thought back to when he saw him. The pinkness of his skin, the warmth that came off of him. Fern remembered that during those hours, he liked being close to Finn, he liked how he could feel his heartbeat when Fern was very close to him. Finn was human. Alive. Fern wasn’t any of those things, but he still calls himself one. He was still alive, right? He felt alive, but is that the same thing as actually living?
I am alive. I am you, and you are me. We are living.
Fern felt his eyes burning, and when he wiped his hands over his eyes again, he was startled to see his tears. His throat closed up. Growling, he looked away from the sparkling water to avoid seeing himself.
He spent a long moment like this before he looked back down. Those eyes he saw didn’t seem alive. They had no shine. No reflection. He slowly laid down in the water, his head and shoulders resting on the bank. He folded his arms together underneath his face, and began to grow tired.
‘It doesn’t feel like it.’
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Hey, grass-wad. You’re gunking up the river.”
A tipped arrow tapped lightly against Fern's forehead. He stirred, frog-blinking awake. He snorted, looking up at the person above him. His ears perked upwards when he realized it was Huntress. He tried to stand up, but only aggressively yanked his own roots out of the riverbed, picking up some muddied dirt along the way. Looking back at where he slept, he saw a variety of lily-pads, water lilies, and otherwise aquatic plants. Muskgrass lined where he slept, coontail springs made out the outline of his body. Still fresh and dripping hydrillas were highlighting sharper areas on his body like elbows and knees.
He grinned, enthralled by the amount of fauna he created just by sleeping in water. Huntress sneered at him, jittering and annoyed.
“Idiot. How do you walk around not knowing what you can do? All of these plants are invasive,” she clicked her tongue, regarding Fern. She dissipated her bow.
Fern scratched at the back of his scalp, more unknown plant life shaking out of it. “Well… I tried going to Bubblegum about it but-”
“Aah-ta-ta! Hush your mouth.” Huntress pushed a finger over Fern's mouth. He leaned back, his lip quirking up in a disapproving manner, but he stayed silent. “How do you expect to learn about nature through what is practically the least-spiritually in tune person throughout all of Ooo? Nothing about that woman is natural. She's a living piece of gum who makes other artificial candy ‘life’.” She complained insultingly, motioning air quotes and rolling her eyes, scoffing. “I mean, she completely disrupts the rest of the ecosystem. I know she thinks she's smart and that everyone else does too, but I don’t care. She's just nothing but a fraud.” Huntress finished her statement, crossing her arms. Her softly scaled skin rippled.
“Jee, I take it you don’t really like PB, huh?” Fern commented as he tossed his shirt back onto himself.
Huntress sighed, looking back at Fern. “Do you want to learn from someone who actually knows their right and left about this biz?” She smirked, putting her hands on her hips.
Fern leaned back forwards, beaming. “You’d actually teach me what I can do? You know how to do that?”
“Of course. I mean… well not really at the moment. The more time we spend together the more we can learn about you. I’m pretty sure I know your basics already. More so I need to understand the powers and capacities your Demon has.”
Fern grimaced, huddling in on himself. “I… I don’t know. Maybe we can try it some other way.”
Huntress pressed further, knitting her brows. “Are you certain? You can communicate with it, correct?”
“He’s an ass to talk to, He won't be any help. He just speaks so vaguely.” Fern hissed out, ears tilting back.
“Oh, fine,” Huntress groaned out, her cat-like eyes narrowing. “Well, show me what you can do.”
Fern sputtered, “Do you mean like– fight you?”
“However you want. Just show me.”
Fern shuffled his feet on the ground before getting into an offensive stance. “Okay…” He summoned the grass blade. He charged at her suddenly with his weapon raised. Huntress swiftly summoned her bow and arrow, side-stepping out of the way before aiming. He lowered his body, kicking out one of his legs to make her fall. When she hit the ground hard, her body slinked downwards into the Earth itself to avoid Ferns' next attack. His sword stabbed into the empty space, getting stuck in dirt. He didn’t bother to pull it out.
The ground shifted beneath him, swaying him off balance as she tunneled and reappeared behind him. He turned around, spinning on his feet. He made the gamble to grab the arrow, and his stickier hand made the bow attach to him as he tossed it aside. Huntress tried to thrust the arrow into his head, but he tackled her to the ground, making her drop that as well.
Turning his arms into vines, he curled the appendages around her biceps. She growled as the small thorns scraped against her skin. She transformed her body into that of a tree, knocking Fern off of her. His arms shifted back to normal. Fern looked up at the bark and leaves, stunned and confused. The tree shook and hummed, before Huntress reformed and leaped upwards, her bow shimmering in her hands again suddenly. She fired the weapon, the arrow spinning towards Fern. It pierced directly through his chest, poking out of his back.
A searing, burning feeling flushed throughout him, and he saw a dark, thick green sap leaking from the wound. He looked back up at Huntress, who was standing over him, triumphant. Fern coughed, more of his blood spattering on the ground next to him. She plucked the arrow out of the cavity, causing Fern to grunt painfully. She held it between two sharpened nails. She used her other hand to pull out a vial from a satchel tied around her waist. The remaining fluid on the arrow dripped into the glass container.
Fern was too busy clutching his own body to see what Huntress was doing. She used a variety of herbs and liquid to mix the blood into a new elixir, and she shoved it into Fern's face.
“Drink,” she demanded, tilting it forward. The smell of it made Fern recoil, his nose scrunching up. She pressed it against his mouth, using both of her hands to keep it there. Fern reluctantly drank, feeling it slide down his throat without fail. It tasted far worse than he could have imagined.
Fern choked on chunks of the unknown substance; the mixture had the consistency of sludge. Long, stringy threads clung to his throat, and he had to swallow multiple times for a clump of those to go down. He felt his wooden bones snapping grotesquely back into shape. It felt like someone pulling a tight corset around his chest, old matter being repurposed back into its former state. When it was all gone from the vial, Huntress let it fall to the ground. Fern’s body spasmed, and he curled in further on himself. He crawled towards the creek, lapping up the water there, trying to get the awful sensation out of his mouth. He looked back down at his wound, which had been fully healed as a result of the potion.
Huntress was re-packing her satchel with materials, harvesting some of the plants that Fern had created in his sleep. “The good thing about you is that I get new ingredients,” she stated plainly, sitting back down next to him. The leather she wore rubbed together, a light ruffling sound. Fern only glared up at her.
“You almost killed me.” He said, sitting upright but still keeping a hand on his chest. “Do you do that kind of thing with Finn?”
“Of course. He’s just as much of a baby as you when I beat him, though.” Huntress crudely commented, shaking her head and resettling her leafy hair.
Fern rolled his eyes, scoffing. “Has he ever beaten you?”
“Once. The most recent time. He’s getting better the more we fight. I’m hoping that if I train with you I can beat him again the next time; you certainly put up a fight.. At least more than he does. I think he holds back, he’s too afraid he’ll hurt me.” Huntress recounted, a fond tone in her voice.
“And you don’t?” Fern prodded, Huntress didn’t respond, only laughing after a short gap of silence. Completely ignoring the question.
“You look just like him, you know. The only difference is that you have some stubble.” She playfully scratched at Fern's chin, making him giggle and push her away.
“Do I really?” Fern chuckled, palming at his chin, recoiling his hand as he felt the small hairs. “Eugh. B-MO used to pluck these out.”
Huntress smiled, standing back up. “How was the Fire Kingdom? I’ve never been.”
“Oh, right. Well- the problem is that magic is draining there, basically. And they kinda need magic to live, so that's a big issue. Finn and Jake were there too, and they’re Kingdom-hopping to figure out if someone's taking it. And Phoebe gave me a job, of which I have no clue what I’m supposed to be doing.” He explained, rubbing at his neck nervously.
Huntress hummed in acknowledgement, tilting her head up. “Hmm, I have been feeling an imbalance. I’ve seen a strange new face flying round Ooo as well, they have this… alien unfamiliarity to them. They act as if everything they see here is new and wild. I don’t think they’re from here.”
Fern sighed, his mouth twisting in discomfort. “Man, I really don’t want to go on a long adventure right now. I’m just all over the place,” he grumbled, tapping his foot on the ground.
“That’s no proper excuse.” Huntress snarled, her nose scrunching as she bared her fangs. Fern flinched backwards, raising an arm to protect himself. “But,” she digressed, "there's two of you now. I’m sure you can let Finn and Jake handle it while you help out in some other, still impactful, kind of way.”
“You keep saying that Finn and I are the same. Yet you can still see and feel an obvious difference.” Fern scoffed, taking a few steps away. “It’s like comparing a spider and a fly.”
Huntress’s ears pricked up, and she crossed her arms, eyes narrowing. “Which one of the two are you?”
Fern stayed silent for a long moment, his back turned to her. “Why would it matter? I might as well be the web.” He looked back to her once more before wandering back into the forest, ducking underneath a branch and disappearing into the thicket.