Voices of Home 3/4
Title: Voices of Home (3/4)
Rating: PG, later chapters PG-13
Summary: After they leave El Dorado, Tulio, Chel and Miguel suddenly find themselves facing a language barrier.
Genre: Angst/Supernatural... I guess?
Characters/Pairings: Tulio, Miguel, Chel
Words: 1438
Notes: Hey, remember when I posted the first two parts of this back in February of last year? Neither do I. But I swear that I’ll finish it in less than a year… promise! Thanks as per usual to my beta, freelancetitan
And because I know that nobody remembers what happened already, here's links to the first two chapters (on the eldorado comm as well as more edited versions at my shiny new ffn account :O):
Part 1 | Part 2 | Fanfiction.net
Over the next few days, Tulio found himself spending a disturbing amount of time seriously considering Chel's theory. Spirits didn't exist, he knew that; it was completely irrational to believe in such things. And yet, it was completely irrational to believe that someone could speak Spanish one minute and gibberish the next. So really, maybe it was logical that an irrational event would be caused by something that, in a rational world, couldn't exist.
Maybe he had gone insane, and the past few weeks (had it really been weeks?) had been some fever dream, when in reality he was unconscious on Altivo's back, or in El Dorado, or on Cortes' ship. Either that, or it was some sort of bizarre be-careful-what-you-wish-for scenario - how many times had he wished to be free of Miguel's incessant chatter? It was possible, really; if he was seriously considering the idea that some spirits on a bridge had caused the sudden language gap, anything was.
Maybe he was dead, and this was some sort of special Hell reserved just for him. It would explain the insects. And the lack of gold.
Chel had promised to tell him if she noticed any 'sacred' places as they floundered through the jungle, bur Tulio had found two rather large flaws in that plan about twenty minutes into their hike: first, the people of El Dorado apparently never bothered to leave their city (as evidenced by Chel's rather insane escape plan), so why would they build a temple or have any sacred sites outside of it? Second, they were literally lost in the woods at this point, stumbling blindly about in the hopes of finding Cortes' ship again, so what were their chances of finding one of these places completely by accident? Slim to none, that's what. Thinking about that of course led to thinking about other problems, like how exactly they were supposed to get onto Cortes' ship unnoticed and stay that way until they hit Spain, but since thinking about that gave him a strong urge to beat his head against the nearest tree until he passed out, Tulio tried to focus on the problem at hand (which really wasn't much better from a head-banging perspective, but at least it was more immediate). Of course, he never was able to communicate these worries to Chel, so Tulio was stuck discussing it with the only person who would listen: himself. And occasionally Altivo, since the horse could probably understand him as well as Chel or Miguel, at this point.
And so, it came as a complete surprise to him when, on the third day of trekking, brooding and potential insanity, Chel suddenly shouted in surprise, pointing into the thick brush and calling Tulio's name from her perch on Altivo's back.
Tulio snapped out of his reverie and stared in the direction Chel was indicating. Miguel, riding behind Chel, was attempting to peer around her without falling off. Tulio sighed. "Chel, it's a tree. What's so -" He broke off. There was something carved into the tree, just barely visible under the vines and mosses draping its trunk, and something about the way it was shaped made Tulio flash back to El Dorado, and the temple there...
And suddenly it was like a light flicked on inside his head. It wasn't just the tree, but all of the trees around them. Carved on each was a snakelike figure, and all were looking in the same direction.
"Tulio?" Miguel's voice was concerned; he knew Tulio well enough to understand that it was rarely a good sign when his partner stopped like that.
Tulio turned around to face them. This is the only plan we've got. "I'll be right back," he assured them, and sprinted off into the jungle. He ignored Chel and Miguel calling after him - the former spouting gibberish that he had neither the time nor the inclination to attempt to translate, the latter simply calling his name in an increasingly frantic manner - and did his best to ignore his own misgivings concerning the sanity of his actions.
Too soon for any of his anxiety to have fled, Tulio reached what he supposed was his destination: an imposing cliff wall, dripping with clinging vines and moss which hung down in a curtain over a small cave mouth. He approached the cave warily, and when he got closer saw that the snakelike figure had been carved into the cliff wall on either side of the cave entrance. Tulio glanced back over his shoulder; he could still faintly hear Chel calling his name as she struggled with Altivo through the thick undergrowth, and for a moment he hesitated. Then Miguel's voice joined Chel's, and the moment was past. Tulio brushed aside the dangling vines and, taking a deep breath, stepped into the cave.
It was dark inside, stiflingly warm and humid, and every step Tulio took was echoed back to him so many times that he found it impossible to shake the disquieting feeling that someone - or something - was following him. With no real idea of where he was going and unable to see more than a few feet in front of him even so close to the entrance, Tulio stumbled blindly forward in the gloom. He tripped and cursed through endless twisting passageways, at some points forced to crawl, at others surrounded by a sense of such immense space that his blood ran chill and he scurried forwards so quickly that the echoes of his footsteps became a ghostly army. The sound of dripping water became more and more pronounced the farther he went in, and soon Tulio heard splashing echoed back to him with every step, the sound almost deafening in the blackness.
After what felt like an eternity, Tulio realized that he could see vague outlines of the stone walls surrounding him, and in desperation he broke into a run. After a few heart-pounding moments, the tunnel opened out into a wide open space - a huge underground lake, lit dimly by the sunlight which managed to filter down from a hole in the rocky ceiling. The water was perfectly still with no breeze to ruffle its waters, and the dim sunlight sparkled like a golden ball lost in the dark center of the lake. There were carvings on the walls, all around the lake, but the light was too low for Tulio to make out any more than vague, serpentine figures. Despite the stifling heat, a cold shiver made its way down Tulio's spine.
"Hello?" he asked, carefully taking a step forward. He voice was reflected back to him in a multitude of ways, almost as if a crowd were responding. Even alone in a dark cave, Tulio didn't want to admit to anyone that he was maybe a little, tiny, teensy bit creeped out. Because he wasn't. At all. Right.
His foot sank into cold water and he stumbled backwards, cursing loudly - though at the cold or at himself for being so childish was debateable. Aside from an echoing splash and a disturbance in the mirror-smooth surface of the lake, nothing happened.
Tulio gritted his teeth. This was moronic. He had run blindly into this godforsaken cave, had just left Chel and Miguel alone in the jungle where they were in all probability being eaten by a jaguar or something equally unpleasant, and for what? The infinitesimal, infinitely idiotic hope that something in this place would solve his problems for him?
Tulio waded out into the lake, arms thrashing furiously, anger propelling him forwards. "What the hell am I supposed to do?" he screamed, up to his knees in the icy water. All at once, the rage was sucked out of him, leaving behind only the despair that it had been holding back for weeks. As if his anger took with it his strength, Tulio fell to his hands and knees, feeling the cold soak into him up to the shoulders, his nose nearly touching the obsidian surface of the lake.
"Goddammit," he whispered. He was such a fool. "I… I just want my partner back." He waited a moment longer for a response, but - of course, you moron, there's no such thing as spirits. - nothing happened. Drained, hollow, Tulio dragged himself back to his feet and turned to leave.
Something grabbed his foot.
Tulio froze, part of his mind whirring away in a desperate attempt to formulate a plan but most of it simply shrieking in primal terror. The moment of hesitation was enough; whatever had a hold on his leg jerked, and suddenly Tulio was completely immersed in the dark water.
Rating: PG, later chapters PG-13
Summary: After they leave El Dorado, Tulio, Chel and Miguel suddenly find themselves facing a language barrier.
Genre: Angst/Supernatural... I guess?
Characters/Pairings: Tulio, Miguel, Chel
Words: 1438
Notes: Hey, remember when I posted the first two parts of this back in February of last year? Neither do I. But I swear that I’ll finish it in less than a year… promise! Thanks as per usual to my beta, freelancetitan
And because I know that nobody remembers what happened already, here's links to the first two chapters (on the eldorado comm as well as more edited versions at my shiny new ffn account :O):
Part 1 | Part 2 | Fanfiction.net
Over the next few days, Tulio found himself spending a disturbing amount of time seriously considering Chel's theory. Spirits didn't exist, he knew that; it was completely irrational to believe in such things. And yet, it was completely irrational to believe that someone could speak Spanish one minute and gibberish the next. So really, maybe it was logical that an irrational event would be caused by something that, in a rational world, couldn't exist.
Maybe he had gone insane, and the past few weeks (had it really been weeks?) had been some fever dream, when in reality he was unconscious on Altivo's back, or in El Dorado, or on Cortes' ship. Either that, or it was some sort of bizarre be-careful-what-you-wish-for scenario - how many times had he wished to be free of Miguel's incessant chatter? It was possible, really; if he was seriously considering the idea that some spirits on a bridge had caused the sudden language gap, anything was.
Maybe he was dead, and this was some sort of special Hell reserved just for him. It would explain the insects. And the lack of gold.
Chel had promised to tell him if she noticed any 'sacred' places as they floundered through the jungle, bur Tulio had found two rather large flaws in that plan about twenty minutes into their hike: first, the people of El Dorado apparently never bothered to leave their city (as evidenced by Chel's rather insane escape plan), so why would they build a temple or have any sacred sites outside of it? Second, they were literally lost in the woods at this point, stumbling blindly about in the hopes of finding Cortes' ship again, so what were their chances of finding one of these places completely by accident? Slim to none, that's what. Thinking about that of course led to thinking about other problems, like how exactly they were supposed to get onto Cortes' ship unnoticed and stay that way until they hit Spain, but since thinking about that gave him a strong urge to beat his head against the nearest tree until he passed out, Tulio tried to focus on the problem at hand (which really wasn't much better from a head-banging perspective, but at least it was more immediate). Of course, he never was able to communicate these worries to Chel, so Tulio was stuck discussing it with the only person who would listen: himself. And occasionally Altivo, since the horse could probably understand him as well as Chel or Miguel, at this point.
And so, it came as a complete surprise to him when, on the third day of trekking, brooding and potential insanity, Chel suddenly shouted in surprise, pointing into the thick brush and calling Tulio's name from her perch on Altivo's back.
Tulio snapped out of his reverie and stared in the direction Chel was indicating. Miguel, riding behind Chel, was attempting to peer around her without falling off. Tulio sighed. "Chel, it's a tree. What's so -" He broke off. There was something carved into the tree, just barely visible under the vines and mosses draping its trunk, and something about the way it was shaped made Tulio flash back to El Dorado, and the temple there...
And suddenly it was like a light flicked on inside his head. It wasn't just the tree, but all of the trees around them. Carved on each was a snakelike figure, and all were looking in the same direction.
"Tulio?" Miguel's voice was concerned; he knew Tulio well enough to understand that it was rarely a good sign when his partner stopped like that.
Tulio turned around to face them. This is the only plan we've got. "I'll be right back," he assured them, and sprinted off into the jungle. He ignored Chel and Miguel calling after him - the former spouting gibberish that he had neither the time nor the inclination to attempt to translate, the latter simply calling his name in an increasingly frantic manner - and did his best to ignore his own misgivings concerning the sanity of his actions.
Too soon for any of his anxiety to have fled, Tulio reached what he supposed was his destination: an imposing cliff wall, dripping with clinging vines and moss which hung down in a curtain over a small cave mouth. He approached the cave warily, and when he got closer saw that the snakelike figure had been carved into the cliff wall on either side of the cave entrance. Tulio glanced back over his shoulder; he could still faintly hear Chel calling his name as she struggled with Altivo through the thick undergrowth, and for a moment he hesitated. Then Miguel's voice joined Chel's, and the moment was past. Tulio brushed aside the dangling vines and, taking a deep breath, stepped into the cave.
It was dark inside, stiflingly warm and humid, and every step Tulio took was echoed back to him so many times that he found it impossible to shake the disquieting feeling that someone - or something - was following him. With no real idea of where he was going and unable to see more than a few feet in front of him even so close to the entrance, Tulio stumbled blindly forward in the gloom. He tripped and cursed through endless twisting passageways, at some points forced to crawl, at others surrounded by a sense of such immense space that his blood ran chill and he scurried forwards so quickly that the echoes of his footsteps became a ghostly army. The sound of dripping water became more and more pronounced the farther he went in, and soon Tulio heard splashing echoed back to him with every step, the sound almost deafening in the blackness.
After what felt like an eternity, Tulio realized that he could see vague outlines of the stone walls surrounding him, and in desperation he broke into a run. After a few heart-pounding moments, the tunnel opened out into a wide open space - a huge underground lake, lit dimly by the sunlight which managed to filter down from a hole in the rocky ceiling. The water was perfectly still with no breeze to ruffle its waters, and the dim sunlight sparkled like a golden ball lost in the dark center of the lake. There were carvings on the walls, all around the lake, but the light was too low for Tulio to make out any more than vague, serpentine figures. Despite the stifling heat, a cold shiver made its way down Tulio's spine.
"Hello?" he asked, carefully taking a step forward. He voice was reflected back to him in a multitude of ways, almost as if a crowd were responding. Even alone in a dark cave, Tulio didn't want to admit to anyone that he was maybe a little, tiny, teensy bit creeped out. Because he wasn't. At all. Right.
His foot sank into cold water and he stumbled backwards, cursing loudly - though at the cold or at himself for being so childish was debateable. Aside from an echoing splash and a disturbance in the mirror-smooth surface of the lake, nothing happened.
Tulio gritted his teeth. This was moronic. He had run blindly into this godforsaken cave, had just left Chel and Miguel alone in the jungle where they were in all probability being eaten by a jaguar or something equally unpleasant, and for what? The infinitesimal, infinitely idiotic hope that something in this place would solve his problems for him?
Tulio waded out into the lake, arms thrashing furiously, anger propelling him forwards. "What the hell am I supposed to do?" he screamed, up to his knees in the icy water. All at once, the rage was sucked out of him, leaving behind only the despair that it had been holding back for weeks. As if his anger took with it his strength, Tulio fell to his hands and knees, feeling the cold soak into him up to the shoulders, his nose nearly touching the obsidian surface of the lake.
"Goddammit," he whispered. He was such a fool. "I… I just want my partner back." He waited a moment longer for a response, but - of course, you moron, there's no such thing as spirits. - nothing happened. Drained, hollow, Tulio dragged himself back to his feet and turned to leave.
Something grabbed his foot.
Tulio froze, part of his mind whirring away in a desperate attempt to formulate a plan but most of it simply shrieking in primal terror. The moment of hesitation was enough; whatever had a hold on his leg jerked, and suddenly Tulio was completely immersed in the dark water.