A small shack, far from the edge of Spiral. One of many, the creature is placed down by the currents – as though willed to be there by forces unknown. It looks up, confused – a tentacle rubbing it sore and bruised body. Looking around, there is no-one else in sight. Just the dilapidated structure before them.
Scuttling towards it, the crab knocks on its door and waits – curious longing in its eyes. It is quiet here – even for the ocean. This is a secret place. The door opens a crack, and a small glow emanates from inside. It is entrancing. Loving. It is all.
“Don’t worry about that – come on in.” The anglerfish coughs uncomfortably, ushering the crab inside and shutting the door; giving a quick glance here and there before shutting it once again – a worried look on his face.
“Urgh. Sorry about that. Can’t really help it. You know how these things are, yeah? Take a seat, take a seat.”
“Uh, I suppose so.” The crab gives him an awkward glance, before settling into one of the rickety chairs round the squat table in the centre of the single-roomed house.
“Can’t be too careful these days. These are dangerous times - dangerous times indeed.”
“So, uh, are you the Wheel?”
“Who wants to know?” The fish squints his eyes.
”Me. That’s who. You’re into the whole ‘riling up the crowd’ and ‘causing a revolution’ business, right? Giving the Pearlescence to people and all that?”
“Shush, shush. Keep it down. You don’t know who’s watching, you fool.” Barely a whisper, there is a fury in his voice; a flash of danger over his face.
“I don’t know who you think you are, rushing in here and trying to tell me who I am and what I want, but I can tell you that you’re putting both of us in danger.”
“I didn’t mean to-“
“No, of course you didn’t. Of course you didn’t.” His awkward demeanour resumes once again. “So, what did you mean?” A slight smile.
“Well I came here to support your aims. Well, support the Wheel’s aims – if that’s who you are, I mean. To overthrow the oppressive regime. To bring power back to the people – to give them access to the Pearlescence which is rightfully theirs.”
“And how do you see yourself achieving such aims?”
The anglerfish leans back, ever so slightly – his eyes boring into the crabs.
“What do you suppose can be done, in this time of crisis?”
“Crisis?”
“Yes. Crisis. Or were you asking which? The civil war? The Empress’ ever-loosening grip on power? The theft of Pearlescence – that which is rightfully ours; all of ours? Or that whirlpool which threatens to engulf us all; or at least that which causes it? What do you suppose can be done?” The voice snaps as each point is rattled out. “I’m going to be honest with you – I don’t need you coming in here asking me questions. If you really want to help, I want you out there. Actually doing something useful.”
The two continue chatting, though the video feed seems to cut in and out, as though something is interfering with it. Before long, the anglerfish and crab nod to each other in agreement, before the latter makes his way out, to be swept up by the currents once again.
Scene 2
Two currents converge, this time on a training ground. One carrying the crab, the other a squid-like creature, tentacles flailing in all directions. They land, unceremoniously, by a clownfish, which is sparring with a dummy adorned with bizarre paraphernalia.
“I have almost forgot the taste of fears;
The time has been my scales would have cool’d
To hear a beast’s cry; and my fell of stripes
Would at a dismal barrage rouse and stir
As life were in’t: I have supp’d full with horrors;
Direness, familiar to my slaughterous thoughts
Cannot once start me.”
At this, the fish lunges forward, slashing and hacking at the innate wooden caricature before them. The other two look on – baffled.
“Are you alright?” the squid begins, but before they’re able to approach the clownfish it once again starts with a moan:
“Is this a rapier which I see before me?
The handle toward my fin? Come, let me clutch thee.
I have thee not,-“
A little louder, the crab pipes up. “Are you alright?”
The clownfish pauses. Frowns.
“- and yet I have thee still” (they glare in the direction of the other two.)
“Art thou not, fatal vision-”
“Fatal vision? What are you talking about? It’s right there.”
“Oh will you be quiet,” the clownfish continues. “Can’t you see that this is art? That this deserves the gravitas of what is meant to be. The final battle that Spiral deserves. The defeat of the Beast which threatens us all.”
”Look, you’re not fooling anyone, Fool. Do you honestly think that waving around a sword and insufferable monologues are going to stop this existential monstrosity simply because you’ve worked yourself up into a pretentious frenzy?”
“I am doing what is right, am I not? Saving us all. Doing what must be done.” The righteousness fades from their voice. “Oh, I don’t know what else to do. This seems like the only way, does it not? My death saving others?”
“To fight, or not to fight- that is the question:
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
And by opposing end them. To die- to sleep-”
“Oh shut up. Please. I really can’t stand this anymore. Honestly. Get a grip of yourself.”
The face of indignation rises once again, before crumpling into uncertainty once again.
The crab makes a start. “Look. There’s no point throwing yourself against something we all know will swallow you in a second, no matter how hard you try. I can’t tell you what you have to do – that’s up to you to decide – but if you want to actually make a difference to Spiral then the both of us can tell you that this isn’t the way to do it. Isn’t that right, squid?”
“Yes, well, I suppose so,” the squid continues. “There’s nothing stopping you doing something about this beast once you’ve made some better preparations, or even just had a proper think about it. Now, do you have someone more personal you could fight for?”
The Fool shakes their head.
“Hmm. Are there any other causes in Spiral that you care for?”
“Pearlescence, perhaps?” chimes in the crab. “I’m sure you’ve heard what the Reaper has been doing, and it’s frankly outrageous that they’re being allowed to get away with it, don’t you think?”
The Fool takes a second to think, eyes flitting from one to the other. For a second, a wry smile upon their face.
“Pearlescence, you say? And what would I want with that? The Empress allows me enough.”
“Yes, but the people,” continues the crab. “It should be shared out equally, should it not?”
“And what of the people?”
“Well,” interjects the squid, “who are you fighting for?”
There is a pause, though before an answer is given, the currents descend – sweeping the crab and squid out and away, back across the landscape of Spiral.
Scene 3
A prison. Two cells, facing each other across a squat hallway. Out of a small window to one side, a towering cliff looms overhead, and a dull roar shakes the floor. In one cell, a small squid lurks – each of his tentacles manacled to the floor. Opposite, a flying fish floats silently, his wings held tightly to the sides of his cage.
Between them, a golden koi patrols back and forth – their scales shimmering in the low light.
“I must admit, I am rather disappointed in you. I had thought that you would put up something of a challenge, if I’m perfectly honest. No matter, no matter… You’re not the first to have been brought by the currents, and you shall certainly not be the last.
“I assume you are aware of how this works, are you not?”
“Not partic-”
“Naturally, I thought I would have to explain it to you.” There is an evil glint in the fish’s eye. “This is a competition. I will present you with four riddles, one after the other. If you correctly guess the first, you will gain one point – and so on. If you win, I will keep you here only five more years. If you lose, then, of course, I will keep you here forever. But if you draw, then I shall let you both free. However, I will not let you know whether you were right or wrong, as that would make things too easy. Sound simple enough?”
The two prisoners nod.
“Well, let’s get going, shall we? What is that which is less tired the longer it runs?”
After a moment’s hesitation the squid calls out “A wheel!”
”Interesting, interesting,” the koi held a poker face, before saying “And what is both full and empty?”
”A fool!” cries the flying fish.
”Right. Question three. If I hold a water glass above the ground and drop it, how could I do so without spilling a single drop?”
”Because you’re dropping it underwater”, says the squid, though this time looking a lot less sure than before. There’s a flicker of a frown across the koi’s bulging face. “And one last question: this statement is false; true or false?”
There is a noticeable annoyance coming from both cells at this, and the koi gives a grin.
The flying fish speaks. “Oh come on. Play fair. Clearly, if it’s false it’s true and if it’s true it’s false. I’m actually quite disappointed in you Magician. Is this supposed to be a 'clever trick' that makes you feel smart about yourself?”
Shocked, the koi blinks once, then twice. “Well, yes, it was I suppose.”
“And, uh, this prison. How did you even manage to build it over the cliff face? Have you been using extra stores of Pearlescence?”
“So what if I have? Look, I didn’t conjure up an absurdly hammy battle of wits solely to be outwitted by a couple of-”
With a snap of their fins, the manacles and cages are released, and the two prisoners freed.
Once again, the connection seems to go blurry and distorted, and then cuts out.
Scene 4
The vast expanse lies beneath; a chthonic void that spreads out below, fading into inky blackness. Suspended above it by the thinnest of threads from a bizarre rock formation, green luminescence echoes from a small cave inside the protuberance dangling below. The lights of Spiral, high above, glimmer on its surface.
The currents sweep down, depositing the crab and an octopus inside. The High Priestess lurks swimming in endless circles around her domain. The past, present and future wrapped in an endless circle – the Spirits of the sea at her fin tips.
“Welcome, visitors. May I ask what brings you here today? Have you come to consult with the Spirits? Do you desire what knowledge they hold? The darkest mysteries of your future?”
Flashes of green and red light twinkle on the ceiling, which appears to extend right through to the stars above.
“Or have you come for the secrets of your past? That which was hushed up, hidden and obscured. Undesired, unwanted, and yet you remain ever curious.”
The floor seems to fall out from below, and the endless depths below beckon those huddled into the small cavern. No lights shine this time.
“Or, perhaps, it is present knowledge which you seek. Intricate webs, weaved out of sight and out of mind. Only to ensnare you once it is too late.”
And at this, the lights descend from above, though this time hold steady – just on the edge of vision.
“We have come to seek knowledge of the Spirits themselves,” declares the octopus.
”And we would like their advice,” the crab continues, “only with your permission, of course.”
“Well, you are welcome to try,” the shark grins – teeth glinting green and red in the dancing lights.
There is an angry flash, and both the octopus and crab emit a high-pitched shriek, before collapsing limp. With a flick of her tail, the High Priestess revives them, and once again gives a toothy smile.
“Only I commune with the Spirits, and I shall speak to you individually. I cannot privilege one over the other, as what the Spirits choose to divulge may be very valuable indeed if placed in the right fins. You, octopus.”
The High Priestess begins to spin faster and faster, whipping up a current within the small cave. The lights which had previously been wandering aimlessly begin to whirl with the current, glowing brighter and brighter.
Before long, the oracle’s chamber is a blur of lights and movement, from which almost nothing can be distinguished, before it gradually slows back to its calm state.
”Now go, octopus. Leave, and remember this message that I have granted to you.”
Without even a chance to respond, the octopus is whirled upwards and out of the cave, back of the current from whence she came.
“And you, crab, what is it you want?”
“I wanted to speak to you about Spiral. About where you live. About what can be done to improve the lot of the people.”
“What is it you want of the Spirits?”
“I wish to know what can be done. How the Spirits can help the ordinary people.”
“And why would they do that? They are as cryptic as a whirlpool; difficult to discern, and even more tricky to decipher.”
“But they give you messages, help, advice, do they not?”
“Perhaps once. But they disagree; argue. Only rarely are they focused on a single idea with one voice. I no longer try to interpret, but merely convey.”
“Surely they are connected to the land? To the ordinary people?”
The High Priestess laughs.
“If it were that simple, Spiral’s problems would have been solved long ago. No. They are what they are. There is no point pretending to understand, though I once shared your naïvety. I do sympathise with what you are trying to say, and there is no doubt Spiral is far from what it was, but there is no path to success from here.”
“But we can invigorate the masses – give them morale.”
“And watch them tear down everything we still have. They need warnings; guidance.”
“And that is why we need you.”
“Yet, as you now know, I cannot provide it. You continue to pretend to understand the Spirits.” Her face is stony at this. As though disappointed, rather than angry.
“Yet you do not even try. You just sit here in your cave.”
“Enough. Begone. I have understood you, crab, but I grow impatient with these foolish chatterings.”
With bubbling churn, the current sweeps down and picks up the crab once again.
Scene 5
The temple looms up; emulating the surrounding bank of seaweed as it extends towards the ocean surface far above. At the top of the golden steps leading to its grand entrance, flanked by pillars depicting intricate scenes of Spiral history, a tunafish dressed in robes reads aloud to a congregation that is not there.
“Decree CCXXXVIII of the seven-hundredth-and-forty-sixth convening of the grand religious council of Spiral. Those worshipping at the second tide of the sixteenth day after midsummer on leap years must, in accordance with Decree CLXXVI of the four-hundredth-and-eighty-first convening, burn their candles no more than two inches on that day. However, this Decree decrees that leap years which contain an odd number provide an exception to the rule, whereby candles may be burned for no more than three inches. This is to provide the additional respect accorded to-”
“Ahem.”
“-those who died in battle at that time in defence of-”
“Ahem.”
The tunafish pauses, and looks down imperiously at the small cuttlefish several steps below who had, in the meantime, made their way most of the way up.
“In accordance with Decree CCXIX of the sixty-third convening of the grand religious council Spiral, interrupting an address of the Hierophant is an offence that carries-”
“Look, I just want to talk.”
Once again, the tunafish pauses mid-sentence; a look of mild surprise on their face. It’s as though this is a new experience for them.
“And what, precisely, do you wish to talk about?”
“The Magician.”
The look of mild surprise definitively becomes abject surprise at this point, and their scroll begins to drift off without them realising.
“And why do you want to do that?”
“Because I want you to let them go.”
“To let them go?” The Hierophant splutters. “And what would an impudent cuttlefish like yourself gain from such an action?”
“Well, we do need someone to look after the city, don’t we? And by that I mean deal with the beast that’s threatening to destroy us all, do you follow?”
“And we have laws that protect us from such matters. There’s no point troubling ourselves with something that the Empress has in hand. We shall, of course, prevail.”
“We shall ‘prevail’, you say? Based on what? Burying our heads in the seabed and pretending that laws will magically – magically – protect us from this seemingly unstoppable force that’s bearing down on our great city? Oh, please forgive me for being so full of myself. How could I have possibly doubted such fabled intellect as yours would step up to the task?”
The Hierophant pauses, as though unsure whether to be pleased or annoyed.
“Look, if you don’t believe me then at least hold a meeting with the other important citizens of Spiral. Because at the moment we’ve got a life-expectancy smaller than this crowd, and there’s no-one here.” To make the point, the cuttlefish gestures to the empty plaza below.
“Alright, alright. Fine. I shall make sure to schedule a discussion shortly, though I will be highly surprised if anything comes of it. You young folk are far too optimistic.”
And with that, the currents sweep up the cuttlefish from the top of the steps, momentarily putting the tunafish out of balance, before regaining their posture and continuing their rambling announcement.
Scene 6
At this point, the feed becomes exceptionally blurry, as though something is interfering. However, the signal does seem to sustain itself for a time – though it only catches snippets of scenes. It’s as though something within the Vignette is lacking, though it’s not clear what.
Six figures are gathered around a wooden, circular table. In addition to the Fool, the Magician, the Hierophant and the High Priestess, there is the Empress, a humanoid figure, and the Reaper, a sinister sea squirrel enveloped in a black cloak.
The feed flitters in and out.
“I confess that fighting the Beast is probably a course of action that I could condone, though I am keen to avoid what the Hierophant has argued for-”
“But Empress,” the Fool interjects, “I must do what is right for the people of Spiral.”
“Are you sure this is the way, Fool? I shall provide you with guards, though in the event you shall run into trouble-”
…
“- can keep it alive for a time, can we not? Perhaps I could strike a deal of sorts,” the Reaper begins to draw on a nearby blackboard, apparently brought specially for this exact purpose. “Profits will, of course maximise upon the conclusion of the deal because-”
“Because what, exactly?” The Magician looks unimpressed.
“Let me finish, let me finish! Look – we could strike a mutually beneficial deal whereby we could mine Pearlescence from this Beast, which would provide endless resources – profits, that is – and of course this Pearlescence would, in accordance with the deal we would strike, of course, allow us to continue to keep it captured in a kind of feedback loop, d’you see?”
The blank faces of the other five faces fade in the static.
…
“I can, of course, only consent to you both approaching the Beast if, and only if, you accompany each other.” The Hierophant gives an austere look to both the Fool and the Magician.
“You will, of course, study the beast and bring back information concerning it, I take it?” continues the Empress, to enthusiastic nods from the Fool, and a more restrained shrug from the Magician.
…
The High Priestess appears to be chanting over and over.
”The Beast lies beyond, consuming all within its path. The Fool is consumed.
Echoed in Dreams, tunnelling to the End.”
…
“You fools. While you’ve been bickering in your ivory towers, I have been fomenting nothing less than revolution!” The Wheel cackles again, “I suppose you could say you fell straight into my trap.”
His lure glowing yellow, he makes a quick exit to the growing sounds of an angry mob echoing from far below.
The screen crackles, and then goes dead for the last time. The broadcast, it seems, is over.