《Observation of a Demon Tortoise》


 Year 0 Month 0 Day 1 Birth [1]

    Not all demons start their lives as one. Many begin their lives as an ordinary creatures, struggling to eke out a living. The most perilous time of their lives is birth. Not all demons are born equal and the same can be said for all life, including man.


    The demon in question, the protagonist of this story, was but a tortoise. The naming conventions for these unique shelled reptiles is varied depending on location and dialect. To simplify things, the tortoise will be defined as the slow moving landlocked variety while the seafaring cousins will be called turtles.


    This was day one of its life. As the entire story revolves around this being, it marks the starts of a new calendar. Year zero, month zero, and day one of the demon tortoise''s calendar. The start of the tortoise''s life is marked by its hatching out of its egg. All the time before then, including the tortoise''s development in its shell and its mother giving birth to this clutch, does not matter. A new era was upon us.


    A full moon hung in the sky, illuminating this auspicious event. Under the earth, life emerged from small time capsules, left to their own by the mother of the clutch. No guidance came from the mother, instead, genetic instinct fueled this horde of baby tortoises. Their clumsy legs and claws burst through the shell then dug through the earthen walls that entrapped them.


    They burst out of the bowels of the earth like grievous undead. Not all of them made it. The unworthy ones, lacking something intrinsically linked to survival, or never even having life in the first place. Out of the original thirty in the clutch, only twenty-four made it to the surface and took their first breath of air. Their welcome to the world was by no means a warm reception.


    The ground was as frigid and hard as the tundra and a fell wind whipped across their bodies. They were slightly damp from the albumen that once sustained them within their egg. Now, it was their worst enemy as it sapped precious warmth from their underdeveloped bodies.


    Oh, but they did have a reception. They hatched at night for the sole purpose of avoiding such a reception. However, uninvited guests tend to show up even when they''re told the wrong time and place. Predators, looking for an easy meal in baby tortoises.


    The best defense a tortoise had against predators was their shell. It made them very hard to eat and protected them from attacks. Baby tortoises had a shell too, with a minor flaw. That minor flaw was that their shells were still soft and would take a few hours to harden and function properly. Combined with their slow speed, they could do nothing while the predators picked and chose which ones to eat.Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.


    The tortoises scattered, heading off in different directions, guided by instinct or whim. Although they were slow, they only had to outrun their siblings, not the predators. With them being twenty-four in number, there was plenty for all the predators to fill up and then some.


    Birds of prey circled in the sky, eagles and vultures, enjoying the rare leisure of choosing which prey to take. These just born tortoises were ripe for the picking as these birds swooped down to feast. A group of vultures surrounded a straggler and began to pick it clean of flesh. While a lone eagle stepped on a tortoise that managed to distance itself from the rest. Its talons acted as a cage as it began tearing the tortoise apart limb by limb.


    A fox with luxurious brown fur came along and dug at the ground, revealing the egg clutch and feasting upon those that didn''t make it to the surface. Rather than an early grave, it was a platter for keen scavengers.


    The remaining tortoises, with only half their former number, escaped not due to speed or skill or anything like that. Simply luck and the fact the predators filled up on their family. All of them scattered, perhaps never to meet again. They held no familial love, nor did they consider each other rivals. They didn''t even acknowledge the other''s existence. What mattered more was survival, and each held a different notion of what to do.


    Three of them headed North, guided by the stars. To the North lied lands that were much cooler. It sounded like a death sentence to those already half freezing just from the night air. The stars stated otherwise, whispering sweet nothings of fertile lands with few predators, cool days, and warm nights. Misguided fools or enlightened sages, only time will tell.


    Six of them drifted to the West, under the moonlight''s glow. The gigantic moon stood out in the starry sky, menacing those that oppose it and acting as a beacon. An unreliable landmark it was as it moved across the sky. Nonetheless, it was the guide most of the tortoises chose because it stood out the most. Out to the unknown expanses did these tortoises go to try their luck before it all ran out.


    The final three were far more practical. Rather than relying on the celestial bodies, they focused their sights on the earth before them. Traveling towards a great expanse of greenery to the Southeast. Their stomachs rumbled and they let their inner desire of gluttony guide them. Among them was the protagonist of this story. And that is how the first day ended.


    The moon reached its zenith, midnight struck, and the day had passed. No one stopped to observe this event, nor did the tortoises rest. They all followed their destiny, undeterred by man-made conceptions of time and the passing of it. Alas, this is where the chapter is to end.

 Year 0 Month 0 Day 2 Hunger [2]

    Just after midnight, the second day started off where the previous left off. Our hapless reptile protagonist trotted along to where the grass was greener. Luckily, it wasn''t on the other side of the river but was still quite the walk. Intensified by the fact that it was a slow moving tortoise. Its two siblings that went the same way quickly found their own path, moving out of sight and out of mind.


    With them gone, all of the story''s focus could go to its rightful owner. At this point, it was just a normal tortoise. It did, however, have some traits that belied its future as a demon. Compared to its siblings, it was slightly larger and had longer claws. Then again, that was just a biological trait unrelated to its future.


    As it moved through the rough dirt, its claws dug into the ground and left behind a path. Hours passed and nothing came to bother it. Either the predators pursued one of its siblings or was still satisfied by the initial feasting. The moon fell from the sky, leaving behind a brief lapse of intense darkness before the sun rose.


    The sun''s rays quickly dried the tortoise and swept away the night''s chill. It also revealed a difference from yesterday, a change in color. The shell, it had hardened, and with its hardening came a darker color to show this change. Before, the shell was pale and see through, showing the same light brown color as its skin. Now, it gained a dark brown color and glistened in the morning sun.


    Safety at last. Or at least a deterrent was in place. The reason why predators feasted upon the baby tortoises was due to their shells still being soft. Once they hardened, it was a lot harder to eat them. Not impossible, just tedious. As long as food wasn''t sparse, most predators would pass over this walking fortress.


    Just by surviving that initial night, the tortoise''s chances of survival had skyrocketed. Now it could focus on more pressing concerns such as food, water, and shelter. Tortoises were omnivorous but were primarily plant eaters. Meanwhile, plants tended to sprout up around water sources very easily. So, our protagonist wanted to find someplace with water.


    It felt a slight hunger while walking about, luckily food surrounded it. Wild grasses and other weeds lined the path it took. Verdant greens were quite lacking, instead, they were mostly a dry and crisp brown, blending in with the ground below. In fact, even the tortoise''s colors blended in with the ground and these grasses. At a distance, it would be impossible to distinguish what was what.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.


    The tortoise took a bite out of a clump of grass. It was dry, tasteless, and sharp. If its tongue and mouth weren''t hardy, it might have hurt itself trying to eat this razorlike grass. Since it was so hungry, it didn''t spit it out. Hunger is the best spice and it still tasted terrible, but the tortoise swallowed it and continued on its journey.


    As it got closer to its destination, the land seemed to come to life. A few streaks of green here and there on normally brown flora. And then the plantlife got so thick that it was no longer making a trail in the dirt but pushing down plant life. A bite here and there as taste tests, nothing was good nor bad. Just filling which was what the tortoise needed most.


    It desired more. It had never tasted something good but felt it within its genes that there was stuff that tasted good to it that it wanted. Even though tortoises were pretty much herbivores, that didn''t mean they spent all their time eating grass. They ate fruits and vegetables too, which was what this tortoise was aiming for.


    As things became greener, they didn''t necessarily become easier to eat. The plants did not want to be eaten and had defenses. Some tasted terrible, some looked fake, and some were even covered in spikes. Reds and dark greens were splattered about on these new plants. They were succulents and cacti.


    Not knowing about the spikes, the tortoise took a bite out of a cactus and immediately regretted it. Just like its shell was a deterrent to carnivores, these spikes were a deterrent to herbivores. These spikes were known as spines and were actually sharpened and modified leaves on the cactus. Whatever they were, the tortoise got a mouthful of them.


    The spines hurt but did not deter the tortoise. The taste of the cactus was too good to resist. Beneath its hostile exterior was soft and moist flesh like a fruit. Its hard mouth allowed it to resist the spines. They stabbed into its tongue and mouth, drawing a bit of blood. Soon, the tortoise stopped focusing on the cactus and switched to the spines, tearing off each spiky leaf before taking a bite of the now unprotected flesh.


    After a few more bites of cactus, the tortoise fell asleep. As the sun rose, temperatures raised with it, making the area nice and warm. Combined with a full stomach, the tortoise couldn''t help but relax and just soak in the sun.


    This marks the end of the chapter, but not the day. The next chapter will be the latter half of the day.

 Year 0 Month 0 Day 2 Part 2 Heat [3]

    After a short nap, afternoon rolled in and the tortoise awoke full of energy. The sun hung at its zenith, bearing down on the lands. A wave of heat stroked the land while a dry breeze seemed to sap all the moisture in the air rather than cooling it down. The difference between night and day was a big one indeed. The nights were as cold as the tundra while the days were as hot as an oven. An unforgiving land this was, but a wasteland it was not.


    Normally, high temperatures were good for it, with it being a cold-blooded animal. However, the temperature never stopped rising. It moved on from the cactus, moving further into this isolated greenery in the middle of a desert.


    With each step, the temperature seemed to go up a notch. Hot air became visible, twisting and distorting sight. Insects in the distance let out shrill chirps. The greenery that seemed to be only a short walk away suddenly became unreachable, not getting closer no matter how much the tortoise moved.


    Every step was accompanied by searing heat as the floor felt like lava. The only relief was when its claws dug into the ground and found the slightly damp soil underneath the arid topsoil. Even that was temporary, as the undersoil became as dry as the topsoil. The plants that had surrounded the tortoise on all sides faded away, replaced by the occasional brown weed.


    It had passed by a small outcrop, perhaps kept alive by a small underground pool of water. Or maybe a passing shower left behind a streak of brief fertility. With the plants being of the variety that can survive with barely any water for years, who knows how long ago this might''ve happened. If there was a pool, it might''ve dried up months ago.


    The dryness didn''t affect the tortoise too much. The liquids in the cactus flesh quenched its thirst and the species itself had adapted to conserving liquids. How was a creature to live in the desert without some sort of countermeasure to the lack of water? Not to say it didn''t need water. Just that it could make do with less or take in more and conserve it for a long time.


    The tortoise did this in a simple way, by not urinating. It had a strong bladder that stored water for both expulsion and consumption. With expulsion being extremely rare. Holding in piss for long periods of time doesn''t go so well for other animals.


    More time passed and the temperature never ceased its onslaught. Even for a creature that''s adapted to the desert and is cold blooded could no longer stand it. Going forward wouldn''t change anything for a long time. Turning back wasn''t an option, nor was staying still. There was no shelter for miles and tortoises can''t fly. That left one option, down.You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.


    The tortoise began digging in the soil, its sharp claws easily tore through the dry topsoil and began carving out a small hole. Every time it got a little bigger, the edges collapsed somewhat and filled it in. Thankfully, it got dug out faster than it was filled in. A few centimeters below the surface was harder, darker, and cooler. It quickly became just like the topsoil within a few seconds of being exposed to the sun, but it held strong and didn''t crumble as quickly.


    A hill formed behind the tortoise while a burrow appeared in front of it. At some point, it stopped digging and just rested in this indentation of the land. Soil from the sides collapsed partially and covered the shell, protecting it from the harsh sun. It only felt a bit cooler but that was all that was needed and it was tired from the moving around and digging.


    What helped was that the sun no longer hung directly above it, noon had passed and with it, the high temperatures. The land began to cool down gradually, like an oven turned off. The heat from before remained while new heat didn''t come as strongly, slowly dissipating.


    The tortoise took another nap while the land cooled down around it. The blazing hot soil became a soothing warm and acted like a blanket, lulling it to sleep. Hours zipped by with the tortoise isolated from it. From a slow-moving creature''s perspective, the difference between minutes and hours was minuscule.


    It didn''t stay that way the rest of the day. The temperature dropped far past the point of being comfortable. By the time the sun was about to set, the soil around the tortoise became an ice cube, sticking to and chilling its body instead of a blanket. A light breeze passed by and cut through its skin like razors, far more painful and effective than a cactus''s spine.


    With a single shift of its body, did the sands fall, revealing this ancient beast. Ancient it may not be literally, but it could surely live long enough to be considered as such. It crawled out of its makeshift burrow and continued on its journey. The dying light of the sunset pointed towards the greenery that finally began to look closer.


    It was still far away. Way beyond the tortoise''s grasp. It could even be just a mirage in the distance caused by the inhospitality of the land, granting false hope to entrap those who wander in. Or it could be a sacred place thriving with life. The tortoise did not hold any of these thoughts, it just saw it and felt like it was a good direction to go in.


    For such a slow creature, the main point of going somewhere was to just go and think about the rest on the journey as there''d be plenty of time to do so. It was reassured that it was heading in the right direction due to the presence of cacti and wild grasses sprouting up every ten meters.


    The distance that felt unobtainable quickly closed in. The sun fell completely and the moon hung low in the sky, watching over the tortoise. It felt just as full as the night before with a little less radiance. Before the destination could be reached, the moon approached its throne in the center of the cosmos and the day ended alongside the chapter.

 Year 0 Month 0 Day 3 Oasis [4]

    The third day of the tortoise''s continued existence has come upon it. Like before, it was in the process of heading towards the greenery that had caught its eye. It was close; close enough that it couldn''t be an illusion. There was never a doubt in its mind.


    The light from the starry sky lit the way. While the tortoise defied the celestials to go this way, the celestials did not abandon it and continued to illuminate its chosen path, even if it was the wrong one. Even on the day the tortoise became a demon, in the distant future, the celestials would not abandon the tortoise.


    Let''s not touch upon the topic of whether they tolerate this behavior or take millions of years to even react. The point is that there was enough light to travel during the night and the tortoise did. It wasn''t the best idea for a cold-blooded animal and it''d be a better idea to rest and take up the morning torch. However, the internal clock of the tortoise has not adjusted yet.


    This land is a confusing one where it''s bad to travel during the night and the afternoon. The best times to travel are dusk and dawn. The tortoise did not understand this. It was not tired as it had slept through the afternoon and a better part of dusk. Besides, its very life started out by moving during the night to avoid predators. An out of whack biological clock was forgivable at this point.


    The chill of the night still seeped into its very bones and made it harder to move. By the time it finally reached the destination, the sun had started to peek over the horizon, marking the start of the morning. What lied there were tall plants. To a baby tortoise, everything looked tall, but these were truly big plants. Trees, overgrown weeds, and man-sized cacti were lined up in the area.


    Even stranger was the soil; it was damp. The topsoil held a bit of moisture and caked itself around the tortoise''s claws, refusing to leave. In this desert, there was a place where the ground was wet yet not a cloud was in sight. In all directions was blue skies with a faint reddish tint where the sun was currently rising into the sky. Nowhere for the water to fall from the sky.


    The tall grass waved gently in the breeze, enticing a stray bite. Unfortunately, the tall, green grass was just as sharp and hard to eat as its brown cousins. Even more so as it was thicker and hard to chew through. The path the tortoise took zigzagged around the plants as it was near impossible to pass through them. It could try if it didn''t mind being torn to shreds by these razorlike leaves. All of the plants in this land seemed to use their leaves as weapons.Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators!


    A tree stood tall and out of place, with its sprawling roots tripping up the tortoise. These roots were as hard as rocks and popped out of the ground occasionally, spread far from their origin. Unlike the ground that gave way to the tortoise''s path, the roots stood strong and resisted its advance. It climbed over the roots awkwardly, being forced up and down. Its own shell and body weight made this more of an obstacle than it should have been.


    Further into this green wonderland was a small lake. A collection of stagnant water that either leaked from a much larger underground water system or formed from a hole and heavy rainfall that hadn''t dried up yet. Its murky depths did not hold an answer to this question. The water was saturated with dirt and grime with untold numbers of bacteria, yet it could support life and a small ecosystem in this area. Water was the basis of life, no matter what state it was in. What was a bit of dirt and germs to life forms that survived in a veritable wasteland?


    The tortoise saw the water and instantly recognized it for what it was and went to take a drink from it. In a misstep, it actually went into the water partially. While the coolness of the water provided relief from the unbearable heat that was to come in just a few hours, it was also uncomfortable. The tortoise took a step back from the water, just as its ancestors did and lowered its head to drink the water.


    Just like the plants that didn''t care about the condition of the water, the baby tortoise chugged down as much water as it could. This would be stored within its body and allow it to survive without water for a long time. If it was older and larger, it could drink its fill here and survive maybe even years without water. As a baby, it''s in its best interests not to test something like that out and keep close to such an easily accessible source of water.


    And that''s what it did. For a period of time, it stayed in this area that was rich in food and water. Even when the sun overlooked the world from the center of the heavens, the tortoise was not bothered. The slightly damp ground refused to become scorchingly hot. The breeze, instead of sapping all moisture from the air, distributed it as there was aplenty from the lake. And the tortoise would just take another drink of water whenever it felt too hot.


    The day ended uneventfully. Once the sun passed its prime and things cooled down, the tortoise found and snacked upon a nearby cactus. And then, the tortoise just laid there, resting as it had gotten to its destination. All was well in the world from its perspective, with no need to go anywhere or do anything. Like this, the day slipped away.

 Year 0 Month 0 Day 4 Insects [5]

    The tortoise wasn''t the only thing that found the oasis. It was not alone. That is something it discovered the hard way.


    The day started normally enough. Midnight struck as the moon began to drift away. Cold temperatures kept most life forms at bay. Not this one, an army moved swiftly under the dying light. Performing reconnaissance around the oasis, scouting for enemies. Their mission was to search and destroy any and all threats. They were many but one at the same time.


    Upon finding the tortoise, they didn''t immediately begin their assault but chose to send out signals for reinforcements. Within moments, they began to gather at the smell. Their target was stationary and vulnerable. What were these well-organized creatures? Insects.


    To be more specific, ants. Individual will was weak and they were guided by a hivemind. Smell and hormones were their way of communicating. They were comparable to a modern army in organization, discipline, and communications. Even better, they did not sleep and could perform operations 24/7.


    The tortoise held the disadvantage. With its shell, it was a moving fortress. One with no defenses and tonight it had no night shift. Ants weren''t known for diplomacy so the assault started silently. One second, the tortoise was peacefully sleeping, the next, it felt something crawling on its leg.


    It didn''t immediately wake up but its body reacted. A shift in the leg''s position did nothing to avert this cheeky invader. Not until the ant took a bite of the tortoise''s leg flesh did it awaken to the sight of a swarm in front of it. No fear arose in its mind, just curiosity with a dash of annoyance. As the ant on its leg refused to leg go, it bit the ant and tore it off.


    The body of the ant was torn off but the head remained on the leg, still biting down, refusing to let go even as it slowly died. Without a way to remove the head, the tortoise started to move away from the ant swarm and swallowed the ant''s body. Being an omnivore, it could consume these pesky insects. However, too much meat would create defects in its growth which is why it was primarily herbivorous.


    Ants could outrun a tortoise and part of the swarm followed it. They crawled up its legs and explored the body, looking for a weak point. The tortoise would bite any of them that came close to its head or tried to climb its front legs. Meanwhile, its shell was covered in ants scurrying about and trying to bite through the shell and failing miserably. The only ones doing something worthwhile were on its back legs, biting it and interfering with its movements.This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.


    Its skin was tough, but the jaws and stingers of the ants were tougher and contained venom. Pain flooded its system and its limbs began to swell in an adverse reaction to the venom. Every second in this situation put the tortoise in a worse position. The only defense it had was more of a liability in this situation even though it stopped some of the ants. With the weight of the shell, it couldn''t reach its back legs or escape the swarm.


    The swarm itself followed the fleeing tortoise calmly, not in any rush. To them, it was a sure kill and a feast for many days. They weren''t being careless nor were they being cruel; they were simply thinking ahead. A trap was laid ahead, not on purpose but by chance. The colony these ants hailed from was just ahead. If they lead the tortoise there, they would spend much less effort transporting the meat back home.


    Until, a lucky strike happened for both the ants and the tortoise. Weary from the stinging pain, the tortoise started to slow down and stopped snapping at the ants in front of it. One ant took the opportunity to crawl onto the tortoise''s face and stung it right above the eye. The pain jerked the tortoise back to reality and it thrashed about, the swelling made it impossible to see its right side and it veered in that direction.


    Water splashed up against the tortoise''s legs and washed away some of the ants. Feeling the water, the tortoise realized where it was and wanted to turn back. However, the ant swarm lined the nearby shores and prevented it from going back. The only option was to go out farther to get the rest of the ants of its back.


    Murky and cool water surrounded the bite and sting wounds, relieving the pain somewhat while the microscopic side was no good. Getting sick was still better than dying to a swarm of ants. Unfortunately, the tortoise could only go out into the water a little bit and couldn''t get the ants off its shell. It acted somewhat like a boat, except it was alive and non-buoyant.


    If the tortoise went far enough into the lake to sweep away the ants, it would drown. The difference between tortoises and turtles that swim is that it can''t hold its breath for long periods of time and its shell doesn''t float. Tortoises literally sink in the water and drown.


    All in all, it became a waiting game. The ants on its shell ran back and forth looking for a way out but they were surrounded by water on all sides. Meanwhile, the swarm still sat on the shore, leaving behind scent messages that there was prey nearby that couldn''t be reached. Ants came over to check things out before going back to the nest or resuming their normal activities.


    Ants could swim perfectly fine, more or less, with a doggy paddle like style. None of the swarm were willing to go out and attack the tortoise while the ones already on its back were unwilling to swim back to shore. The water sapped all the warmth from the Tortoise''s bones while the sun, now risen to its highest point, directed its fury towards its shell.


    The sun kept its shell warm enough to counter the cold water. And as a lucky side effect, its shell virtually became a grill thanks to its dark color and the ants on it slowly cooked to death. Even when nighttime rolled over, the tortoise remained in the water. The cold was no longer an issue as the water was warm. Water changes temperature slowly and tends to ironically be cold during the day and warm at night.

 Year 0 Month 0 Day 5 Injured [6]

    Very early in the morning, the tortoise woke up with a terrible feeling. It had managed to nod off for a bit with the swaying of the water. Unfortunately, it was in a very bad state. Varying cold and hot temperatures, stress, and the ant''s venom took its toll. It dragged itself out of the water, ants or no ants it didn''t want to stay there.


    Once on the shore, it laid down. Not sleep, just inability to move further. Nerve wracking pain besieged its body. It couldn''t see out of its right eye at all. All four of its leg held a reddish tint and any attempts to move would cause a ripple of not just pain but also itchiness.


    An hour passed like this. Breathing. Waiting. No relief came. The pain was constant. All it wished was that it would all go away. Death wasn''t an option. The will to live was programmed into its body and it wasn''t intelligent enough to even ponder suicide.


    If it was a warm-blooded animal, it would be rapidly heating up its body in an effort to kill the foreign entities in the body. All the tortoise could do was wait and hope the sun would warm up its body enough to reduce the effects of the venom. This wasn''t a reliable method as the venom of a desert ant shouldn''t be something easily defeated by mere heat.


    Just to rub salt in its wounds, it was also hungry. All day yesterday it went without food. Tortoises are able to live a long time without food or water, but this was still a baby. It was still developing and it hadn''t eaten enough to stock up on fat reserves. When your food cuts you up and is plentiful, it''s hard to motivate yourself to eat more to stock up.


    Another painful lesson in life, one that could cost the ultimate price. Of course, the tortoise didn''t die from this. Neither did the ants come back. This spot was close to their colony, but they had already lost interest in the area after a day of flocking around it. A scout would still come along eventually, so its survival hinged upon leaving.


    However, the motivation to move never came. Hours passed and the sun bore down on the tortoise. With the help of the heat, the tortoise felt a bit more energetic and the venom died down a bit, more so from the tortoise''s immune system than the heat. This newfound energy gave the tortoise a chance to move.Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.


    Even the tiniest twitch was rewarded with pain so it was trained to not move. The only part of its body that did move occasionally was its head. There were two reasons for this. One was so that it could properly breathe as it was in a muddy area and kept sinking a few centimeters. The other was so that it could look around. After being attacked by a swarm of ants while resting, it was understandably paranoid. With one eye covered, it had to move its entire head for just a fraction of its normal view.


    One would think this would be the moment that brought it over the edge, turning it into a demon. No, this was far too tame for that. If that was all it took to push one over the edge, the world would be full of demons. The tortoise was weak and helpless, teetering on the edge of death. However, it had not reached the point of relinquishing its... well, if it was a human it would be humanity. Had it not reached the point of giving up its tortuosity? That would come later in much more dire circumstances.


    This was not a point of no return. The tortoise could survive, provided it was lucky. The locals were not so confident about its survival and came to inspect it. Not the ants, but vultures. Carrion eaters that would consume the flesh of those who forfeited to this wasteland. They circled in the sky, waiting.


    Every time the tortoise moved its head a little bit, the birds decided to hold back longer. The biggest rule about opportunists like them was to make sure their target was already dead before digging in lest they get killed instead. A wounded animal was far more dangerous than a healthy one as they had fewer options and were more likely to take risks.


    If they flew down and tried to take a bite of the tortoise, it wouldn''t be able to even muster to strength to bite back. The caution of the vultures prevented them from getting a free meal and saved the tortoise. Then again, if this area wasn''t so rich from the lake and the vultures had been starving, they would not have been as cautious. A starving animal was no different from a wounded one in a way. The tortoise was both starving and wounded with neither the strength nor means to take risks.


    As the sun started its downward spiral, the oasis cooled down. It came as a relief to the tortoise that had to endure blazing heat on top of its pain. At this point, the swelling had begun to die down and the tortoise could move somewhat. The pain became a slight ache and it moved out. Off to find something to eat then somewhere to settle down.


    An entire day was wasted. One of many that the tortoise would live through. It was lucky that the venom was mild and that it was not allergic to it. Any number of factors being even the slightest different would have killed it. They weren''t. It survived.

 Year 0 Month 0 Day 6 Burrow [7]

    Shortly after midnight, the tortoise ran into an issue. It wanted to sleep but was too scared. It couldn''t just sleep on the ground like before or it would just be a matter of time before the ants would find it again. Not that it didn''t try, it just kept opening its eyes every few minutes to check for the ants. To make things worse, a few scouting ants really did pass by, spooking it.


    It moved to the outskirts of the oasis. Close enough that it could go back to grab a drink of water easily and the plants were lively and tasty, if not a bit sharp. This area happened to be out of the range of the ant colony and perfectly safe from the threat of being swarmed. Of course, the tortoise was unaware of this and was still panicked about it.


    Then it remembered something it did a few days ago, or at least, attempted to do. It dug a hole to escape from the heat. Being a bit far from the oasis, it would once again experience scaldingly hot afternoons. By digging a hole, it could protect itself from the heat. Perhaps, if it could protect it from the heat, it could protect it from the ants?


    Instinct guided it and it dug its claws into the soil. The top layer parted easily, with a bit of spilling but nothing too major. The next layer was cooler to the touch and distinctively harder. Its claws tore out chunks of dirt and small rocks. The deeper it went, the harder this task would be.


    At some point, the tortoise felt like something was wrong. It looked up and saw the rising sun directly ahead. This wasn''t right. It skirted off to the right and resumed digging. An hour passed and a proper hole was dug into the ground. It was only a few tens of centimeters deep but was enough to give a sense of security.


    It fell asleep throughout the hot afternoon and woke up when things cooled down somewhat but were still warm. This just felt right. It had finally settled into a behavior not only normal for tortoises but other creatures as well in this wasteland. It soaked up some of the waning heat for some extra energy to scout out some tasty plants to eat.A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    It couldn''t survive on just cacti. It also found some plants with less spunk than the local stuff. The oasis acted like a greenhouse, nurturing plants that normally wouldn''t survive in the area, carried there as seeds by birds. The tortoise''s new favorite was dandelions as their colorful yellow flowers stuck out and were easy to eat. It also picked up the habit to dig as the base of plants with its claws to bring up some roots to munch on.


    When it came back to its new home, it felt a slight chill in the area. Its leisurely and slow way of doing things had brought the daylight to almost end. Unlike before when it stupidly traveled and did things at night, it decided to rest. Cold-blooded animals have a harder time moving and being active at cooler temperatures than they''re used to. It''s more efficient to rest at those times and work other times.


    Crawling into the burrow, it felt something was off. At an instinctual level, this felt... unfitting. The same sensation it experienced when it originally built the burrow. It had to change things to suit its preferences. This time, from the opposite side from before, the tortoise dug. First collapsing part of the burrow so it could lay on that part while redirecting the hole in a different direction.


    This was insanity. It had just put in a bunch of effort to dig the hole a certain way and now it was acting upon a feeling to destroy a good portion of that to change the direction. However, the reasoning behind this was deeper than one would think. This was not a bad idea, just a bit misguided.


    It''s simple, if a hole is dug a certain direction, it would be cooler. When digging the opposite direction, it would be warmer. The tortoise felt like digging it a certain way before because it was hot, now with a nip in the air it wanted the other direction. North and South were the directions in question.


    However, an adult tortoise, rather than waste effort modifying its burrow, would make multiple burrows facing different directions. Upwards of thirty burrows with all sorts of different conditions for different situations. The tortoise simply hadn''t realized this yet. It''d take less effort right now to modify than make a new burrow so it chose the option with less effort but a more short-termbenefit. It would quickly learn why the long term option was better.


    A few hours later, the sun was down and the tortoise had already retired. Warmth from its body heated up the surroundings and was insulated, keeping out the cold night air. This was the warmest night it had experienced since it was born. A memorable night for sure.

 Year 0 Month 0 Day 7 Not Alone [8]

    The next morning, the tortoise slipped out of its burrow and felt a bit parched. It headed towards the oasis in a slow gait. It was still a bit groggy from sleep and the early morning chill. Then an event put it back on the tips of its claws, a bark.


    It was loud and high pitched. Normally, not something very intimidating. However, despite never hearing it before, the tortoise felt fear from this sound. That was because it belonged to one of its predators. The opportunistic canine, the fox.


    As a reaction, it scrunched up as tucked itself inward as much as possible. It couldn''t fit its entire body in the shell but it tried. This was a method to make it harder for a larger predator to bite the tortoise. The reason why it didn''t try this method of defense, thankfully since it would''ve been suicide in that situation, was simply due to the fact it initially didn''t see the ants as a proper threat.


    This lasted a few minutes before the tortoise stuck out its head and looked around. Nothing was in sight. It had a false alarm and wasted some time. That didn''t lower the tortoise''s caution one bit. The one thing the tortoise had to remember was that it wasn''t alone at the oasis. It wasn''t some safe haven but a hub of life. Everything wanted it dead, even the plants with their razor sharp leaves.


    A vulture circled the sky a few kilometers away. Perhaps waiting for its chance to grab a bite out of the fox''s findings. Or maybe some poor creature was on the verge of death there. Either way, it was far away and that was a good thing for the tortoise.


    It resumed its journey to the lake even slower than before. Once the sun rose a little bit and things warmed up, the tortoise regained its confidence and sped up a bit. Right before it reached the lake, it decided to take a bit out of a bit of grass on the way. It hesitated for a second as the leaf had a weird lump on it.


    This lump jumped into the air and with a fluttering noise, it flew a short distance away. The leaf it left behind had a few holes on it, bite marks from the lump. This lump was from a grasshopper, a fairly common insect that used camouflage as a defense against predators. It could fly and was a herbivore. They were a pest that would kill plants if left alone. If they were bigger, the tortoise might consider them a rival for its food source.This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    It ate the remaining leaf and then arrived at the lake. There it wetted its mouth with the brown mixture while keeping its eye out. Its eyes lied everywhere except the water. Unexpectedly, something jumped out of the water a meter away, shocking the tortoise. A brown, horned creature introduced itself to dry land for the first time before hopping inland. A toad.


    Toads were similar to tortoises except they were amphibians. They had a cousin, frogs, that stayed in the water, while they rejected swimming once they grew legs and could leave. This one was covered in intimidating spikes to deter possible predators. Like the tortoise days ago, it started its life on land afresh, introduced to all its dangers.


    Just when it was about to leave to get back to its burrow to protect itself from the afternoon wave, it spotted something unusual by the water. A reflection of itself but the water was too murky to reflect. Not a reflection, but another tortoise. One of its brethren that decided to come this way. Both of them had found their way to this oasis and were slowly adapting to life and its dangers.


    They stared at each other for a bit, assessing each other. Before leaving and going their separate ways. Tortoises were fiercely territorial. If not for the body of water between them, family or not, they may have started a fight. One side belonged to the protagonist while the other side belonged to its sibling. The oasis was split and tensions were high. Neither side was willing to risk direct conflict at the moment.


    With their small bodies, even the smallest injury could result in an early demise. Not even mentioning if they were adults. Even then, unless it was mating season, they might avoid a confrontation unless one side entered the other''s territory. Lines were made and they wouldn''t be crossed for now.


    With the end of that confrontation, the rest of the day was fairly uneventful. The tortoise went back to its burrow and felt the urge to dig. With the burrow facing the wrong direction and being somewhat deep, the tortoise made the smart decision to just make a new burrow a meter or two away. And when night came, the tortoise had began making its original burrow deeper.


    Outside the burrow, the half moon hung low in the sky, watching over everything. The oasis was now silent but would be teeming with life the next day. This oasis did not revolve around the tortoise but rather the tortoise and many other organisms revolved around it.

 Year 0 Month 0 Day 8 Neighbor [9]

    The morning was warm. The tortoise''s burrow was a hearth cradling it. No more were there nights of extreme cold and afternoons of unbearable heat. This simple shelter, a literal hole in the ground, provided so much in return for so little. Generations of tortoises both before and to come have had sharp claws for this reason. Their claws were tools, not weapons, designed for traction on slopes and digging.


    The morning sun eclipsed a distant horizon. The wastes seemed to stretch endlessly with the only evidence of their limits was the rise and fall of celestial beings. These burrows represented an escape from their influence, only coming up when they were at their weakest. These were lands graced by the presence of these outside influences the most, yet was barely liveable by the hardiest of creatures.


    The tortoise went out on its daily schedule. Moving like clockwork to achieve its necessities without much effort. Go here and get a drink, go there to eat something, then go back and continue digging the new burrow. If all went well, something like this could stretch on for years on end while the tortoise grew up, using this oasis as a cradle for growth and security.


    It was boring and as stagnant as the water in the lake. Things were too easy. Risks were low. The tortoise could avoid ants if it kept an eye out. Vultures were well fed and cautious. Foxes proudly announced their presence with a yip or bark. The only ones that had presented any real danger were the ants and maybe the vultures when the tortoise was injured.


    Of course, it can¡¯t be forgotten that the tortoise was young. It had no reason to leave. Boredom did not drive the tortoise, survival did. As long as it had food, water, and shelter it was fine. What more could one ask for?


    However, these times will not last forever. As the tortoise found out when it tried to retire for the night in the hole that maintained warmth. It had gained an unwanted guest. When it poked its head inside, it saw a dark spot where it wanted to rest. This dark spot moved towards the tortoise. It couldn''t tell what this thing was and caution made it withdraw. This dark spot followed along to the entrance.Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.


    There, the sunset''s glow glanced off a pitch black creature. This was not an ant; it was something worse. Both of its pincers stood ready to tear into the tortoise''s soft flesh while its tail stood ready to deliver a fatal blow. A scorpion.


    The tortoise instinctively feared this minuscule creature, and for good reason. A single sting from this would kill unlike the petty venom from the ants. Even its armor outclassed the tortoise. The entire body of the scorpion was covered rather than just the main body and a stronger material was used, chitin as opposed to the tortoise¡¯s keratin shell.


    Even if the tortoise risked it and bit down on the scorpion, the scorpion¡¯s tail stinger would still strike, killing both of them. Not even that, the scorpion might even survive if the tortoise couldn¡¯t crush it. A real fear with the size of the tortoise. It was only twice the size of the scorpion, how could it properly bite and crush such a large insect when it was just a baby. No matter the strategy, the scorpion would win or there¡¯d be a tie.


    The tortoise backed off further and the scorpion returned from the depths from which it came. This wasn''t fair. The tortoise had put all the effort in to make that burrow and now some insect comes out of nowhere and takes it because it can. Such is the law of nature. Perhaps, if the scorpion lacked a stinger, it would be worth fighting. Instead, the tortoise had to live with this new neighbor.


    And if it wanted to escape the night''s ravages, it could only start making a new burrow. Which it did. Before the night air got too cold to work in, a new indentation into the ground was made. The tortoise set up camp in it and was tortured by the occasional breeze. The half moon felt like an open mouth laughing at its misfortune.


    A week ago it had trekked through these lands at night, toughing out the extremes. Now, it was bothered by the wind when sitting in a perfectly good spot. Oh, how it had fallen. Did it get used to that new cozy lifestyle after a few days? Was it coddled by how easy it was to survive? Old wounds from the ant venom weakening its body?


    Or worse of all, was it not the wind that bothered it? The wind was just a reminder of something far more painful than a cold wisp brushing against it. What was being truly riled was its pride. It was bitter about having to give up its home. It was angry at the scorpion with no way to vent. After all, the driving force behind it was its desire to survive. Without that, there was no meaning in its existence. If only there was something that could replace that desire.

 Year 0 Month 0 Day 9 Sign [10]

    This day started off a bit different from the others. The tortoise woke up a bit late and not by its own accord. A strange buzzing noise alerted the tortoise that something wasn''t right. Not just that, but also a vibration coming from below.


    It was if something was trying to drill through the softer yet still hard undershell of the tortoise. Panicked, the tortoise moved out of fear of another new neighbor stirring up trouble. As soon as its body lifted up slightly, something whizzed out of from underneath, freed from the tortoise''s unintentional entrapment.


    It tried to see what this thing was, but not only did it fly quickly, it also flew in a strange way. Circling in the air and doing random 180''s. The flight pattern was designed to escape the eye and confuse both predator and prey, which were often the same thing to this odd creature that could be found anywhere in the world.


    It landed about half a meter ahead of the tortoise and rubbed its front limbs together. A fly. An insect named after the ability to travel the skies. A testament to its skill in flight or just a simple name for a common creature.


    The only issue is how it came to be below the tortoise. Flies were well known for finding ways to get in through even the smallest crack while plagued with the inability to backtrack. Nonetheless, finding a way underneath a sleeping tortoise without it noticing ''til now was a bit farfetched.


    The fly took flight again, circling the tortoise and occasionally landing on it. The tortoise felt like it could ignore this pest and decided to go about its daily routine. Every time the fly landed on its head or limbs, it shook it off as it felt weird. So, most of the time the fly was either circling around it or crawling around its shell.


    Nuisance. That was what the fly was, something that bothered the tortoise constantly. Even when it was just flying, that noise created the feeling of the fly walking all over its body. Its own skin started to feel uncomfortable.


    For the first time, the tortoise felt the urge to kill something unrelated to survival. The fly could not harm it as things stood. The ants attacked the tortoise while the scorpion stole its shelter and posed a threat to its life. The fly would deserve it if it was killed by the tortoise, but still...


    In the sky, a few vultures circled something ahead before gliding downwards. They found a meal which meant something died. Whether or not it succumbed to the wastes or to another creature was yet to be seen. Judging by the direction being the same way as the oasis, it might actually get a scene.


    The tortoise, with its "friend" at hand, trekked through some sharp underbrush. It was hoping that the fly would not follow and for a time the fly landed on leaves and did not bother it. However, they reunited on the other side. It wasn''t until it reached the lake that the fly flew off.


    Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.


    The reason for this was a spot completely covered with four or five vultures. A corpse for the fly to accompany for dinner. There was no way of telling what they were eating, and when they left only the bones would be left. They could even be feasting on the other tortoise in the area. Or perhaps the local fox met its end. Most disturbingly, it could be another vulture, expired while the rest of its kind committed cannibalism.


    Ignoring this, the tortoise took a sip of water. Within the depths, a curious soul came within eyesight. A thin, black fish. Wait no, a tadpole, developing into what can be assumed to be a toad. Another creature in the water came along and promptly attacked and ate the tadpole. It was also a tadpole, just bigger and with legs. Cannibalism was normal with tadpoles, especially in areas low in other kinds of food. Cannibalism was just one method of survival for them.


    Satisfied, the tortoise returned to its burrows for an afternoon rest. At the entrance of its cool one, it did something a bit odd. It pushed some dirt into the hole with its claws. Then, after waiting a few seconds, it cautiously poked its head in before jerking back. False alarm, the hole was completely empty. After yesterday, the tortoise decided to check its burrows before using them lest its neighbors bite, sting or pinch it before it can flee.


    Within the hole, the tortoise didn''t fall asleep. It just rested while keeping a lookout, ready to jump out at a moment''s notice. The tortoise only had itself to blame if it got stung by the scorpion because it decided it liked the other burrow more and decided to move.


    Nothing came and this watch only served to make it tired. Yet, the scorpion didn''t show up so that counted for something. Perhaps burrows other than the one the scorpion holed up in could be considered safe.


    When it left, the tortoise was tempted to check the hole with the scorpion. Was the scorpion still there or did it move on? The opening of this old burrow loomed and felt like a mouth that wished to swallow everything that looked upon it.


    All the tortoise had to do was repeat what it did before. Push in some dirt and then peek a little. It was as easy as that. Yet, the task felt like an impossible feat. What if pushing dirt in pissed it off so much it came after the tortoise? What if the tortoise couldn''t pull out fast enough?


    Cowardice. Fear made the tortoise unreasonable and decide it was better to just make a new hole rather than check. There was no way of knowing the status of the scorpion. For all it knew, the scorpion could be dead in the hole.


    The rest of the day went as usual. Food was eaten and the new burrow was developed further until it was a proper shelter. Then, the tortoise holed up in it for the night.

 Year 0 Month 0 Day 10 It Begins [11]

    This day, the tortoise was awoken by dirt falling on its face. Its body was aimed towards the entrance of the burrow, that was being whittled away. A whistling noise accompanied an unusually strong wind in the air. This wind pushed around everything not nailed down, including the very earth.


    Curious, the tortoise left its shelter and found itself unable to lift its head high. This sweeping wind threatened to carry it away, but the shell and its sturdy legs told otherwise. The skies themselves were perfectly clear, with only a bit of darkness on the distant horizon. This was the offshoot of a distant storm that was just passing by.


    Such things were rare in the desert. Judging by how violent these stray currents were, it was a good thing it wasn''t passing overhead. With dirt filling in its home, the tortoise decided to check out its afternoon burrow. Thankfully, due to its placement, it wasn''t suffering too much from the wind, just a bit of collapsing, outside debris wasn''t being pushed in.


    However, the residence of its neighbor, the place taken over by the scorpion, was directly in the warpath of the air itself. In such a condition, surely the scorpion would come out, annoyed by the dirt falling on it. Something did end up coming out. Not the scorpion. Flies. Dozens of them swept away by the wind to distant lands.


    After seeing this sight, it would not be blamed if it just holed up until the situation abated. It didn''t do so, insisting on its daily schedule. It started a slow, even slower than usual, journey to the oasis. With every step, the land itself gave way. Not due to the tortoise''s presence but its claws tearing up the soil and making it easier to carry away.


    Not even a trail was left behind in its wake. The land before and afore it were practically untouched. Scars and blemishes were shed in every waking moment. The underground, normally hidden from the world under several layers, was revealed and became the topsoil before being scrapped away again and again.


    This soil was red in color. The world itself was bleeding from this event. The soil carried on the wind sparkled in the morning sun. Beautiful and deadly. In reality, the ground was simply high in iron content, the metal that made blood red.Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    Squinting as it went along, the tortoise teared up slightly from dirt getting in its eyes. To get to the oasis, it had to go against the grain literally as every grain of anything assaulted its body. These specks of iron and sand left their mark on its shell and irritated its skin. From birth, tortoise''s were destined to get calloused skin and worn shells.


    The only relief was the plants with roots strong enough not to be carried away. Just like yesterday, to escape the elements, it dragged its body through thick grasses and spiny underbrush. Their sharp touch was far more welcoming than the earth''s wrath, seeming to welcome the tortoise as they faced a common plight.


    At the lake, there lived a tree whose roots gently embraced the lake. Upon the tree roosted the local vulture population. They swayed in the wind and didn''t dare to fly in this weather. Still, they felt the urge to watch over all so they could act upon any opportunities. A readiness programmed into them since hatching or even before.


    The water was red, appearing to be blood at first glance. Iron carried by the wind tainted the water. A scene straight out of a horror story, but it was still water. The tortoise went up to the edge of the lake and was only able to force down one mouthful. The heavy taste of iron saturated the water source. Wasn''t very clean to begin with but this pushed things over the edge.


    A toad crawled ashore from the water. A tail on its behind showed that it came out too early. Life and death on land for this toad began with a single leap caught by the wind. Hapless, the toad could do nothing as it was slammed against the oasis''s tree and puked out its own organs.


    One of the vultures tried to glide down for a free meal, only for the wind to guide its wings far away. Off in the distance, the vulture left the wind''s influence and faced a sharp decline in height. Like a slap from the gods, the vulture was ruthlessly slammed into the ground. And there it came to rest for all eternity.


    The tortoise watched over this with disinterest. Far from an actual threat, the wind was just a nuisance. Its body could endure anything the wind could carry. Creatures that relied on jumping or flying through the air were punished by these divine winds. Meanwhile, the humble pace of the tortoise appeased them.


    Back at the burrow, the tortoise came to hold out in the afternoon and then some. Nothing could motivate the tortoise to go back out in that weather. It calmly kept a lookout while listening to the natural music of the land, hoping tomorrow would be better. This hope would not be achieved as great things were in store for the tortoise. And what great thing has ever come about without a bit of suffering first.

 Year 0 Month 0 Day 11 Toads [12]

    A chill pervaded the hole that the tortoise spent the night in. It had been designed to keep cool during the afternoon, not warm at night. Still, it was insulated and was better than being outside. The wind never subsided, weakened perhaps, but still ever-present.


    Today the weather was clear with random yet powerful gusts. There was a constant breeze that was sure to make the afternoon more bearable. On the distant horizon, dark clouds plagued an otherwise nice day. The tortoise climbed up, happy that the weather was a bit nicer than yesterday.


    Unfortunately, it found out that its other homes were buried. Thick red soil filled in these holes and smoothed out the land as if they never existed. A fitting grave for its bad neighbor if the scorpion never managed to leave. And it stemmed the tide of flies temporarily.


    The tortoise crawled about, occasionally swaying in the wind. Not as strong as before but more sudden and brief. It kept catching the tortoise off-guard, making it fall as it leaned too far to right. In a way, this was worse than before. Flies would pop out of the soil here and there too, bothering the tortoise until they were blasted away.


    The path to the oasis felt different. More sparse and empty. No longer was it vibrant and lively. The remaining plants were the hardiest and weren''t so pretty. While the lake itself was blood red and couldn''t be any good. The tortoise had no intention of drinking it, it just came out of habit and perhaps to snack on the odd leaf on the way.


    Unfortunately, most of these leaves were dry and tasteless. The only thing that was completely green were the cacti, used to worse conditions than this. To suppress both its thirst and hunger, the tortoise dedicated some time to pull some spines off one of these cacti for breakfast.


    Arriving at the side of the lake later than usual, it bore witness to pure chaos. The shores of the lake were lined with a particular creature. Toads, dozens of them. Most stayed near the water, half submerged despite being land faring creatures at this stage of their life. Or perhaps not as some were undeveloped, missing a limb, bearing a tail, a blackish tint, etc.


    The others hopped around the oasis, flowing and ebbing like a tide. Their food source was a constant stream of flies being unearthed with the wind. Seeing these creatures feast upon those pests and the lack of danger felt gave the tortoise a good impression of toads. When the tortoise came closer, they reacted in various ways.If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    A decent portion of the shore toads pushed off into the water for a meter and went to another shore. Same with the scattered oasis toads, most kept their distance.


    On the other hand, there were toads that simply didn''t care. Whether this was an instinct that things were safe or just plain stupidity was not known. One of the toads it passed by even climbed onto its shell, hitchhiking on a whim. Considering it was just a bit smaller than the tortoise, this placed a considerable weight upon its back.


    The tortoise had the choice of either leaving to go back to its burrow for the afternoon or just hanging out. With the toad on it, it felt less inclined to move. So, it stuck around, observing its surroundings. The ants it feared so much were eaten on sight by the toads. Even the local grasshopper population was at risk from these eco-destroyers.


    There was only one issue and that was the toads who hadn''t gotten out of the water. They rose to the top of the water and floated there aimlessly, tadpoles and half developed toad alike. Their corpses contaminated the already undrinkable and unliveable iron water. Nothing good could come of this.


    A few vultures, doing their job as the cleaners of nature, would skim the water and pick up a free meal to eat. Then again, they didn''t discriminate between the living ones at the shorelines and the floaters. If they focused on the dead ones, perhaps the situation wouldn''t have deteriorated so much.


    One of the toads taken was the hitchhiker. These toads relied on being the same color as the ground to escape aerial foes. The ground was a light brown color from being dry while the tortoise''s shell was a dark brown. Being on the shell turned the toad into a sitting target. The toad didn''t even put in much of a fight.


    The toad sat completely still as if it hoped its camouflage was still working or that one of its brethren would be chosen. No such luck. While it was picked up without much effort, it fought and squirmed in the vulture''s grip. It was not to be as the vulture landed in the tree after circling back and enjoyed its lunch.


    The sun at this time was at its midpoint, the brunt of its heat coming at this time. Proximity to the lake and the breeze kept temperatures down a bit. Despite losing what was weighing it down, the tortoise stayed still. Going back to its burrow felt counterproductive as the afternoon would''ve passed by the time it got back.


    As time passed, the vultures flew off, satisfied and wanting to sleep their meal off. A few more toads died, succumbing to the poisoned water or not fully formed lungs. The toads accepted it as safe, or enough time passed for them to forget and think of it as part of the scenery. A few left, heading off into the distance to find their own place in the world.


    The tortoise did not have the courage to go off into the unknown as long as the oasis stood. Even with the water poisoned and the land covered in toads, it was still better than anywhere else it knew of. Not that it knew of anywhere else. This area just struck it as safe and held a sense of belonging. Such a feeling will not last. It will be dislodged in a forced exodus.

 Year 0 Month 0 Day 12 Flies [13]

    The previous night''s ending was nothing special. Once the sun had fallen, the tortoise slipped back into its burrow. The only unusual thing was that in the morning the tortoise found a guest. One of the toads slipped in without it noticing. The toad had not hitchhiked on its back, it would have noticed.


    Either it was there from the very beginning or crept in during the night. Both equally terrifying scenarios the tortoise calmly accepted. There was enough space for both of them and this tenant didn''t try to force it out. Seeing that the tortoise was up, the toad hopped outside. The tortoise followed closely behind.


    No wind yet the darkness afar was not so far. Clouds of pure black hung low in the air and pulsated like tar. Wait, did clouds ever hang this low acting like the land and sky''s mar? Clouds they were not; flies they were, swarms and swarms flowing from the earth freely like geysers. Their activity was not volcanic but their effect on the land was just as bad.


    Remembering what a group of ants could do and the pain from thebite of a single fly, the tortoise wisely chose to flee. Where to? The only direction it felt was an option, towards the oasis of course. Instinct told it that this situation was safe, experience told it that it would surely die if it stayed. Fleeing carried no risk while staying kept all of the risks lined up.


    The toad, on the other hand, did not experience any hardship and followed its instinct. Instinct said that the flies are breakfast. Jumping over, the toad began feasting upon the flies on the ground and nabbing a few flying ones with its tongue. The dominoes had fallen and the toad met its fate.


    A counterattack from the flies was swift and brutal. The toad never stood a chance as the flies moved as if they one entity, biting it to death all over its body then consuming its flesh. Nothing but bones were left of the toad after they retreated. Their hunger partially sated, not all chased the tortoise, just a few stragglers.


    Hordes of them coated its shell, giving it a pitch black lacquer. A few stragglers managed to do this much. Fortunately, the tortoise was constantly moving, preventing too many of them from going onto its soft parts to give a good bite. Once again, not too many was still a great deal as the tortoise''s skin suffered inflammation from constant bites.


    Pain everywhere motivated the tortoise to keep going. Survival was not a priority but release from the pain was. Not to the point where the tortoise would willingly keel over to end it all, but enough that it guided it over its will to live.


    Stopping the pain could be heavily associated with the will to live. Nonetheless a flawed comparison with all the ways to reduce pain without lowering the body''s danger or when pain is present and the body is perfectly safe. Pain is simply an imperfect indicator, one that works out well in most cases.This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.


    As it rushed to thelake, hoping to imitate the time it hid in the water from the ants, the tortoise failed to notice something. One thing is that there actually were a few clouds passing by overhead. Second was that there was no wind whatsoever, with the skies as stagnant as the lake. And finally, the lack of life in the area.


    These flies had gone through this area and ravaged several creatures while the plants were shriveling and drying up. While plants were less picky than animals about water sources, a large amount of metal in the water was toxic to everything. The oasis itself was dying, collapsing under its fragile ecosystem. The only reason it wasn''t dead yet was due to the hardiness of life here. They adapted to even worse conditions than here and could seemingly take on anything.


    At the shores of the lake, there were no toads. The only visible toads were in the center of the lake, idly floating. The water was even redder than before, becoming true blood water rather than just having the appearance as such. A few flies circled the water and landed on these floaters, using them as both sea vessels and food. And as the tortoise slipped into the water, it became another boat for the flies to hang out on.


    A strange sensation rocked the tortoise in the water. Relief mixed with irritation. Bloody water rubbed up against the inflamed skin, creating a burning sensation. Yet, the initial pain and itchiness went away. It was better off in the water than outside no matter how unpleasant it was.


    One problem the tortoise encountered was its head. The ants got trapped on its back and were unwilling to swim to its head to do damage. Flies did not need to swim to get there. Dunking its head under the water intermediately was the only solution to this problem. Except, it was a tortoise, not a turtle so it couldn''t hold its breath for long.


    It was lucky it could hold its breath at all. Most animals on land lack that ability and drown very quickly in water. Having the ability to stop breathing at will does not sound like a good idea, especially in a desert where there is not much water. The end result was a cycle of submerging and surfacing, with the occasional bite on the head somewhere when it wasn''t fast enough. Even worse was that there was nowhere to run. The flies were everywhere in the oasis, every direction and at every elevation.


    Afternoon passed by without much happening. When the tortoise''s shell heated up, the flies would simply fly away when they overheated then would land on it again. Another way they were superior to ants in this case. More importantly, they were relentless while the tortoise became more and wearier. Hours passed and the weather cooled. All the warmth of the tortoise''s body was drawn out and its movements became sluggish.


    Just when it couldn''t go on any longer, night fell and the flies left. Unlike the ants that moved about 24/7, the flies had an internal clock and to rest somewhere. The tortoise dragged itself back onto land partially but couldn''t muster enough strength.


    It was hung out to dry on the banks like the half developed toads from yesterday. Its upper body was safely on the shore while its back legs were submerged in the water along with part of its shell. Here it rested, hoping for a better tomorrow. Being near the lake when the sun rose was in its best interest anyways. The flies would be back in the morning.

 Year 0 Month 0 Day 13 Feast [14]

    In the morning, the flies were no more. Dispersed they had, returned not. The tortoise remained on the shoreline with barely an ounce of strength. It was awake at this point, lacking the motivation to do anything. Thirst, a strong desire for water raged in its body. Ironically, water was all around, none being drinkable. The bloodwater sipped at its legs, thirstily draining moisture from its body and the legs were visibly shriveled.


    Although the flies weren''t around, the tortoise wasn''t alone. Two vultures were perched upon the nearby tree, seemingly disinterested with the tortoise. They had already filled up on something else beforehand. Funnily enough, there appeared to be less of them.


    A fox came into sight on the other side of the lake. It tried to take a drink only to spit the water out. The fox would have to find another outlet to quench its thirst. Spotting the tortoise, it walked around the edge of the lake to check it out. The tortoise lifted up its head and stared at this fox, never letting this dangerous predator out of site. Not like it could do anything else.


    The fox came before it and moved closer to sniff it. In a desperate last attempt to scare the fox off, it dug into its reserves and shot out its head to bite the fox''s curious nose. Unfortunately, the fox had good reflexes, jumping a meter back to avoid the bite completely.


    Counterattack or give up? Those were the options the fox had, and it chose to do neither and just stare at the tortoise. It circled to the left and to the right, looking for an opening. The tortoise''s head was glued to the fox''s movements. There was no way of getting behind it with the water.


    After a minute or two, the fox finally lost interest and wandered off. The direction it went was towards the tortoise''s burrow, lowering its already sunk motivation to leave the water. Where else was there to go if not home? Off into the wastes?


    Both the sun and heat rose sky high. The excess energy given off by this glorified ball of flames gave the tortoise a minor boost. With this, the tortoise could leave the water, but did it want to. Surely it''d be fine to stay like that for a few more minutes to beat the heat. Those minutes would simply stretch into hours and then days. Would it ever leave if it didn''t now?Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.


    The answer to that would never be known as the tortoise slipped out of the water. Once on dry land, the tortoise''s back legs gave out. They were dry and wrinkly from being in the water for far too long. Another hour was spent resting in the hot air. Any dampness from being in water evaporated from the get go and the dryness intensified the tortoise''s thirst.


    It set out, hoping to find a cactus, instead finding something far worse. Flies everywhere, it walked straight into the area where they had gone to. Hills and valleys filled to the brim with tiny black insects. Only death awaited here.


    That is, for the flies. All of them were dead and their corpses littered the ground. Flies had short lifespans and the oasis was unable to support all these flies. Dehydration, starvation, cold night air, wind carrying them afar, predators picking off any stragglers, old age, etc. They had died as quickly as they came. Their goals were achieved in the brevity of their existence.


    Maggots, hundreds of them had eaten their fill and dug into their earth, awaiting the right time to come back as flies. Some of these maggots were mixed in with the corpses, making this area both a graveyard and a nursery. Life of all sorts flocked to this area to feast upon the fallen.


    A swarm of ants slowly dragged flies double their size with ease along a smooth and precise supply line. A few surviving toads hopped around looking for some morsels, fancying the delicacies that were still wriggling like maggots and half-dead flies. A few odd scorpions hung around the outskirts, picking up flies with their pincers and tearing them to shreds with their mandibles. A feeding frenzy for all kinds of creatures, with the tortoise as the odd one out.


    Rejecting the flies even though it could eat them, the tortoise went to a nearby cactus instead. With how much cacti it was eating, its diet was imbalanced but all too necessary with the water inside the cactus flesh. A precious commodity water was one that it had access to even with the lake contaminated. As long as the cacti stood, the tortoise could get through this hard time.


    After polishing off the last of the cactus, it took one last look at the ongoing feast of the flies before heading back to its cozy hole in the ground. The reason being is that even the fox showed up and began munching on the flies, meaning the way back was now clear.


    The trip back was unexciting. There were no neighbors in the hole nor was it suddenly filled in from strong winds pushing dirt into it. It was just there as if it''d always be there, welcoming the tortoise''s return silently. There was still some daylight left but the tortoise did not want to do anything, the fangs of fatigue left their mark on it and it turned in for the night.

 Year 0 Month 0 Day 14 Calm [15]

    Thirsty. That was the feeling the tortoise experienced when it got up. This was odd. Even though it was young, it should have a supply of water stockpiled in its body for a few days. It didn''t drink any water directly, but the cactus''s juices were more than enough. Stumbling out of the safety of its burrow, it found out why.


    An unbearable pressure on its body and searing heat. Yet, the time didn''t match up with the afternoon. Morning, with the sun barely peeking over a distant land. The sunrise was beautiful and accompanied by a pink sky.


    Air that seemed to steal every drop of water it could. Rather than dry, it was wet and calling for its brethren like when the tortoise soaked in the lake. The climate was humid, making things feel hot and oppressive. Along with that was a sense of discomfort and foreboding.


    For the first time, the tortoise considered leaving the oasis. Something about the oasis felt unwelcoming. Not that leaving would do any good as this humidity wasn''t isolated to this area. Perhaps the entire wasteland was in this state, with every surviving tortoise being affected.


    If things were this bad now, then what of later? Would the oasis itself dry up and leave the land as a true waste, never to recover? How devastating. To the tortoise, this was the entire world. Every day it''s been here, it has provided for it while pushing it away. A land too good for the tortoise but one it needed for now.


    Water, it wanted water. It didn''t matter what kind of water. Even water contaminated by iron was acceptable. Anything that could sate its needs. Without water, it would die from dehydration. A fate shared by many in these wastes but a joke to ones living next to an oasis.


    On the way, the tortoise met a few familiar faces. The fox was lying on the ground on the outskirts, barely alive. Only the gentle rising and fall of its chest showed that it still lived. Eyes peeked out from hardy underbrush that survived the wind''s wrath, the local vultures. In the shade of a rock, a lone toad sprawled.


    They had their ways of avoiding the full brunt of the heat. These methods will be tested to the extremes. The tortoise''s own plan was to get a drink and then return to the burrow. Underground, it would be cooler and out of the sun. It''d still be humid, just more bearable.


    The oasis was a sight for sore eyes. In other words, its condition made ones eyes sore. The water was still a faint red but it was starting to turn brown. On its shores was some sort of reddish mud. As it walked closer, a sudden movement to its side shocked it. A group of insects jumped off a plant, leaving behind an empty husk covered in holes. Grasshoppers, in greater numbers than before, seemingly unaffected by the climate.If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    Its instincts deemed them as not dangerous, but the tortoise kept its eyes on them until they were at a distance before continuing. Who knows how many times its instincts will be proven wrong in its lifetime.


    As it approached the lake, its feet sunk into the sludge. The bank was unstable and could not help but start a depression as soon as the tortoise came to withdraw some water. This gunk composed of rusting iron and mud clung to the tortoise. The tortoise could barely reach the actual water without sinking in fully. Legs, shell, and most of its neck got a coating of muck. However, it was worth it as it finally could take a sip.


    Nasty. A taste that could only be defined as sweet in a repulsive way. Like a candy cane coated with urine. The first thought that came to mind was to spit it out. The second was to drink it again. Like how the best spice was hunger, thirst would make animals drink from the worst sources imaginable. Not that iron water was bad; it was actually healthy in some cases. Nonetheless, an excess of any mineral in the body was a bad thing.


    For now, considering the circumstances, drinking this water was necessary. If its thirst was any less, it would abstain from drinking, hoping for another source to reveal itself or eating another cactus. The only reason it didn''t now was due to the fact it desired just water, it wasn''t hungry just yet. That, and it hadn''t seen any cacti on the way. It walked around fairly set paths, making it clear out the foods it liked, unfortunately. The possibility of spreading out to find a cactus instead of risking itself in the water never came up, especially with the heat clouding thoughts.


    Speaking of clouds, the dark clouds mentioned before were still there, hanging off in the sky. Close enough to see, too far to care. Perhaps these clouds could grant some rainfall and give the oasis some reprieve. It could revive these forsaken lands, or at least alleviate a few issues. What an optimistic way of putting it.


    A problem found itself in the tortoise''s claws. Now that it entered the mud, leaving was harder. The mud tugged on the tortoise''s body as it tried to get out, sucking on its body. With every step, the tortoise dug into the walls of the lake, breaking it apart and mixing it with the mud. Both increasing the amount of mud and hardening it, with little traction granted. At one point, its head was dragged under, making it so its entire body was lubricated with this stuff.


    Of course, this was not the end. A few more concentrated efforts to escape later and it managed to drag itself ashore. Except, now it had to bear the weight of its shell and the very earth upon its back. It breathed out and blinked a few times, expelling some of the mud on its face. Other than that, it didn''t really bother trying to get it off. The reason being is that it felt good. It was cool and soft to the touch, cushioning the tortoise.

 Year 0 Month 0 Day 14 Before [16]

    The afternoon came with a vengeance, raising the temperatures to new heights. Meanwhile, the tortoise relaxed in its new skin treatment that kept the sun from heating it too much and kept it cool. The fact that it was damp and a lighter color than the tortoise''s shell and skin made all the difference in the world. The only downside to it was that it was hard to move in. Which wasn''t a problem since nothing would want to move in this heat anyways.


    Not all the creatures in the oasis were as lucky. Right before the tortoise was a dead toad, falling to the heat. And then, one of the two remaining vultures flew down to the shore for a drink. Except, it mistook the sludge as the shore and ended up trapped much like the tortoise was before. Unlike the tortoise, the vulture traveled mainly by air while its claws weren''t positioned in a way for it to dig out of the mud. It flapped its wings and simply made the situation worse until it sunk below the surface.


    Then there was one. A single vulture occupied the wasteland oasis. It cried out for its fallen comrade and the ones before, flying to the edge of the mud and looking around. The more opportunistic kinds of birds had a tendency to be smarter than their cousins. Wit was needed to figure out the best time to fly in for a meal without being killed or being too late to even get scraps. Now, such an intelligent bird recognized that it had lost a brother and felt genuinely sad for it.


    As time passed, the vulture finally flew off, looking for shade to hide out in. The mud around the tortoise lost its moisture and solidified, becoming a second shell. Acting like an oven, this secondary shell absorbed and then trapped heat. With every passing moment, the sun bore down on it and increased the settings, slow cooking the tortoise. It couldn''t do a thing about it as the shell imprisoned it, restricting its movements.


    If it wasn''t for a passing cloud, this would''ve been the end for the tortoise. Rare they were, even rarer were ones that rained. A gentle breeze caressed the tortoise, seeping into cracks and cooling the tortoise. A small sprinkle showered fresh water onto it and started to erode the second shell. A few movements from the tortoise broke off chunks of hardened dirt. Rain, actual rain in this desert. A miracle and a sign of good times to come.Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.


    The rain passed by quickly with the cloud, resuming the heat wave. Barely any rain meant that it just made everything damp only for it to instantly dry as it passed. Such a disappointment. Thankfully, more clouds were approaching from a distance. Or rather, a single cloud stretching as far as one could see and as dark as night itself. A low rumble sounded as the skies themselves growled and seethed.


    The passing shower was definitely a sign. Perhaps not a sign of good things to come, but a sign of more to come. Too much more.


    Humidity in the air hit an all-time high as the storm approached yet all of the heat disappeared. Not hot or cold, just a silent pressure as a lumbering beast came. Freed from its earthly constraints and facing the wrath of the heavens, the tortoise sought out the underworld for protection. In other words, it fled to its burrow as it instinctively feared this storm. Even if its instincts hadn''t stated as such, it would still be wary of this event.


    First came the wind. As opposed to the gentle breeze, this was a violent gale alike the one that tore up the land a few days ago, perhaps the origin of them. In fact, it was stronger, lashing out with brutal cracks like a whip.


    Plants, even the hardier varieties were torn from the ground, roots and all. Metallic sand scraping its shell was the least of the tortoise''s worries as rocks as big as it''s head whizzed by. If it had not entered the burrow by now, its life would have been forfeit.


    Of course, there was rain too, a light drizzle that seeped into the land. Every drop was swallowed up greedily by the scorched earth. A few raindrops slipped into the burrow and landed on the tortoise, proving to be an annoyance but not dangerous yet. Clouds swallowed the skies and the world entered a state of pseudo night, cooling down rapidly.


    Land that was hellishly hot suddenly became a freezer within the blink of an eye. Not unusual for the area per se, yet the transition would normally be a bit slower and obvious. The sun went down and things cooled down. Now, there was no sun and the cooling process was skipped right to the freezing.


    The annoyance of raindrops became a fight for survival as every drop robbed the tortoise of precious warmth. Something it would have been all too willing to give up a few minutes ago.


    Like this, the tortoise tried to sleep as the storm raged on. A constant source of water dripping into the hole, cold temperatures, and the occasional thunder made this task nigh impossible. Hours passed and the night ended while the storm did not. Not that it was possible to tell the time of day with the current weather.

 Year 0 Month 0 Day 15 The Storm [17]

    It was just past midnight. It was pitch dark, without even the stars to accompany the sky. Just clouds, stretching endlessly. Not that it was completely void of light. Intermittent flashes graced the skies with every rumble and roar.


    The roars were thunder and flashesof lightning. Dust trapped within the clouds rubbed against each other until a static charge built up and exploded. An unnatural force perfectly explainable. There was a distinctive delay between the thunder and lightning that was constantly shortening. The longer the delay, the farther the actual lightning up to kilometers away.


    Although it was a normal phenomenon, the tortoise was young and inexperienced. To it, this was a disaster of biblical proportions. And it hadn''t even felt the full brunt of it as the storm''s most powerful sections closed in. The rain got heavier, threatening to tear down the tortoise''s home.


    Water levels rose and the inside of the burrow became mud. The land''s thirst was satisfied and could no longer take on more. Excess started to collect on the surface and trickle into lower areas like the tortoise''s home and the oasis''s lake. Suddenly, the thing protecting it from the elements was turning into a deathtrap.


    The tortoise left the burrow, knowing that the muddy earth below was no good. Besides the walls of its hole eroded and sunk away, removing any protection it had. The minor annoyance of a few raindrops became a torrential downpour. Rather than water, it felt like small pebbles falling on it. It tucked its body into its shell for protection.


    Even with the shell, it felt like meteorites falling from the sky, whittling away at its defenses. Cold meteorites. Every impact knocked its body temperature out of whack. It was so cold that it started to freeze on the back of its shell, creating a layer of frost.


    A flash of lightning lit up the sky, followed by a low roar almost immediately. It was coming closer. A sharp transition happened at this benchmark. Instead of freezing rain, literal ice started to fall from the sky. Hail.


    Hail was created when the upper parts of the sky were cold and the lower parts warm. Rain would be pushed upwards from the lower sky, being cooled even more than usual by the freezing upper sky. Then it would become ice and get heavier, repeating until it was heavy enough to get by the lower sky.Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.


    The ambient warmth of the desert grounds rose into the sky and forced the rain to freeze and compress. As time passed these chips of icy hail became chunks. Little pebbles became sizeable rocks. At first, it made no difference between the harsh freezing rain and the relentless tiny hail. Then, the big boys came, burying themselves into the ground with impressive force and splashing mud all around yet was scattered.


    The tortoise was in a war zone with artillery striking all around. Fortunately for the tortoise, it was in a good spot. Unfortunately, good didn''t mean perfect and it was hit. A massive impact embroiled its organs and cracked its shell. If it lacked a shell, it surely would''ve died on contact.


    At this point, it was heavily injured and couldn''t even muster the strength to scrunch up into its shell, sprawling out in the mud powerlessly. Then, the hail stopped. Everything stopped.


    The epicenter of the storm was directly above the tortoise. Ironically, the center was where the storm was weakest. There was even an opening to the outside world where light leaked through. This ray of light stretched out and touched the ground.


    On the ground, this light zigzagged and dug around like tree roots searching for water and nutrients. They defied common sense and acted like a living creature. As it approached the tortoise, it felt a shiver down its spine and a strange sensation tingling on its skin. Was it lightning? Somehow striking the ground so many times it appears like a constant stream to the naked eye? Or was it something else?


    A low growl was heard as the sky lit up. The sea of clouds became a distinctively red color while dark shapes ran just underneath like veins, pulsating and writhing with the growl. In the center of this all was a shadow of something that should not exist.


    The stream of light dissipated along with the growl and whatever lit up the clouds. Everything went back to normal. The way it always was.


    A silent pressure started to build up as everything was calm. There was no wind, no noise, no rain. It was a bit humid and nothing but the sound of its own breathing was present. Except, it sounded louder and hoarser than usual. That''s to be expected with its injuries.


    Or it would be if it hadn''t kept getting noisier, no closer. That was not the tortoise''s breathing but that of something that should not be. Fear, a primordial fear not unlike the fear it felt instinctually from some dangerous creatures. This ran deeper than a venomous scorpion. This was an existence that wanted nothing more than its inevitable demise to come a bit early.


    A silent pressure started to build up. Static electricity danced upon the tortoise''s skin like a mark of death or foreshadowing of what''s to come. The tortoise lacked the strength to look up and see what was not there, perhaps for the best. Just as quickly as it came, the pressure was gone, but the static stayed.


    Lightning struck. Not just once. Twice in the same spot. The entire world went white and all sound was absorbed by this all-consuming might.

 Year 0 Month 0 Day 15,16 Recovery [18]

    The lightning hadn''t struck dead on, but a few meters to the side. The tortoise''s life was spared but not without cost. Electricity ran throughout its body, burning its insides and resetting its heart. If the lightning had only struck once instead of twice, the tortoise would''ve passed away then and there.


    A crater was left behind where it hit and caused an explosion. The tortoise was carried away a few meters by the explosion and landed on its back. There, it rested, forced into unconsciousness. The rest of the clouds passed by without even a speck of water. The storm was not natural in any sense.


    It was still nighttime and the stars watched over these events but the moon was strangely absent from the heavens. It was a new moon, with the sun hidden behind the earth and lending none of its might to the moon. If one looked closely, they could still see the outline of the moon.


    In the time it took for the tortoise to finally awaken, the night had set and the sun was partially up. Groggy was the only way to describe its state of mind. Its entire body was in pain and it had been upside down for hours. Scrambling to flip itself over for a few seconds until it recoiled from pain. This began to repeat itself.


    The tortoise did not want to be upside down. However, its shell was bulky and made it hard to get back over. Even then, every time it strained itself, the pain would flare up with a vengeance. For good reason as moving too much would make them worse. Nothing good would come out of being upside down either. Nonetheless, the tortoise was forced to choose between flipping itself or staying still.


    Its brain commanded the body to bring it back to beingrightsideup as blood started to pool in its head. The body simply stated that it couldn''t comply with intense bouts of pain. After going back and forth, neither side held an advantage. Yet, the body was winning overall as nothing was done and that was exactly what it wanted to be done.


    The tortoise kept its head crooked and occasionally moved its limbs to keep its blood flow going. To make matters worse was that the pain never away. It went from a state of horrible pain to unbearable but never left. Even when the brain acknowledge something was wrong, it would not stop.


    A few passing clouds, straying after the storm would occasionally cover up the sun. Combined with the damp ground, the afternoon wasn''t so bad. The tortoise couldn''t move so it just waited for an opportunity. One that seemed to never come.The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.


    The last vulture flew across the sky, leaning to the side and spiraling aimlessly. Its wing was injured from the storm. Even worse was that it was the last of them. What was a flock became an individual. It landed on the ground and lost all motivation to do anything. It roosted on the ground, staring at the upside down tortoise.


    The fox was still alive as well. Unharmed but covered in grime, ruining its coat of fur. It walked towards the oasis, letting out occasional yelps. These served to unnerve the tortoise. The thing about living creatures is that some things take priority over others.


    The presence of the fox struck a chord within the tortoise''s biological responses. Fearful of the fox coming to it for an easy meal, it desperately tried to right itself, pain or no pain. With some effort and proper foot placement, it managed levy itself up and slammed onto the ground with the world back in the proper perspective.


    The fall, however, incited a new wave of pain as its internal injuries were rocked about. Fortunately, there was no bleeding. Just trauma from being pushed around way too much and some burns. Everything was fully functional, just rough around the edges. The tortoise took a glance at where it heard the fox and only saw it long in the distance, going further away. It was never the fox''s target and overreacted. A good overreaction as it finally allowed the tortoise to flip over.


    Not that it made much of a difference as the tortoise laid down and did nothing. If it moved it would feel pain; if it didn''t move it would still feel pain. After the sun fell, a cold air seized the night. It numbed the pain somewhat. For once, it could think clearly and all it wanted to do was get to its burrow. Not for its protection from the cold, the cold was a good thing for it, lowering inflammation and such, but for its comforts. Unfortunately, the burrow no longer existed. It was different from the other two that got covered in sand, it was still visible. Yet, it wasn''t accessible because of something left behind by the storm. Water.


    The burrow was replaced by a small pond. Other than being a bit murky, it was completely fresh. The first thing the tortoise did upon seeing this was start gulping down the water to quench a thirst it didn''t even know it had until now. It drank until it got a stomachache and then lied by the edge, feeling strangely sleepy. Without a home to return to, the tortoise slept under the stars. Its body was shut down for repairs.


    After what felt like only a few seconds, the tortoise got up and saw some green. A tuft of weeds sprouted up around its old home. These plants, despite being so small and weak, somehow survived the storm and even spread out to new sources of water. Except, these weeds were doomed as these ponds would not last for long. Even now, the pond had dropped a few centimeters in water level. The tortoise gratefully munched on these free snacks and took another sip of water before passing out again. High above the tortoise was the sun already starting to set. The tortoise had slept well over a day straight. In such a bad condition, the tortoise''s greatest asset came to shine, not its shell but survivability.

 Year 0 Month 0 Day 17,18 Locusts [19]

    Another day of the tortoise being wounded began. The tortoise woke up intending to do the same thing as it did yesterday, wake up, get a drink, and then go back to sleep for the day. Living the dream. It moved its mouth towards the greenery, intending to take a bite, only to snatch some air. Meanwhile, the greenery flew away. As it tried to eat the other weeds, the same thing happened. Upon closer inspection, the greenery was not weeds at all but grasshoppers. Tons of them surrounded this little pond, overrunning it. As for the weeds, the grasshoppers ate them all, leaving not even a trace behind.


    The tortoise was annoyed by this yet could do nothing about it. Instead, it took a drink of water from the pond, which was getting lower by the second, and tried to go back to sleep. And it did so for an hour or two. Only to wake up again with hunger pangs. While a tortoise could survive days without food or water, that was not a good idea when injured. Its body was diverting resources towards self-recovery rather than storing it away for later use. With these arrangements, the tortoise could heal much faster but would need a steady supply of food and water.


    All it could do was turn towards the oasis and start walking. Already, the pain had subsided enough for movement. It couldn''t go too quickly or the pain would flare up. Not a big issue for a tortoise, a specialist in moving slowly. Hours passed before it entered the oasis, only to find barely any plants. Grasshoppers fled from the survivors they had been feasting upon. Tons became hundreds which became thousands. A second storm upon the oasis had come in the form of grasshoppers, no locusts. Swarms and swarms of insects specialized in eating all plant life in sight. They came in both green and brown colors with powerful legs and wings adorning their body.


    With all these locusts out and about, it was hard finding anything to eat. The tortoise was forced to eat scraps left behind. Stems and leaves speckled with holes from the locusts. Hard to stomach with the plants being dry. When the locusts ate on the plant, it would die and any moisture and nutrients would be redirected away from the parts being eaten in a desperate attempt by the plant to preserve its life. This resulted in these scraps being poor food. Considering the thousands of locusts in the oasis, the tortoise was lucky to find any food at all. Even the weeds growing by small ponds on the outskirts were being ravaged by the assault of the locusts.


    The reason for the locusts exploding was simple. All their natural predators died. The ants, toads, and scorpions perished during the events of the last few days. Even predators that only rarely ate them like the vultures and fox were in low numbers and barely dented their population. Conditions were right with the rainstorm revitalizing the oasis and stressing the local locusts. Their survival instincts kicked in and they bred and spread almost overnight, overrunning everything.The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    The oasis itself was no longer red. The sludge around the outer edges was swept away and the water level rose a bit. Its depths were brown and less murky than the first time the Tortoise saw it. If one ignored the locusts, then the oasis was even better than before. Except, the locusts were there and were a major problem. The law of nature was competition and the tortoise had no way of competing.


    It returned back to its pond that it called home out of habit. There it tried digging a new hole. Unfortunately, while the ground was soft and easy to dig into, so was its legs. It could only make a few gouges in the ground before giving up from the strain it caused on the body. Just moving around was one thing, actively straining muscles to dig and push dirt around was a whole different story. So, the tortoise spent another night under the stars. These cosmic beings that people looked up to for both their fortunes and direction. Passing dark clouds constantly obscured them as the night went by.


    Another night; another day. The eighteenth day of the tortoise''s life went as per usual. It woke up, got a drink, and then headed towards the oasis. There was literally nothing else to do in the safe confines of the oasis. Days could repeat endlessly with the same exact things over and over with barely any change.


    Once again, the tortoise found the area covered in locusts. This time there were barely any plants left. With little food, the locusts turned to eating each other. Their bodies piled on top of each other, forming silhouettes that resembled plants especially with their green and brown colors. There was nothing left. All gone. This paradise for the tortoise no longer had any food. The tortoise became angry as it couldn''t find food anywhere.


    It pushed the locusts away, hoping to see a stem or leaf left behind. No such luck. Its hunger intensified and an emotion became stronger. Hunger became an annoyance. Annoyance brought a surge of anger. It took an action unrelated to survival, one purely from emotion. It swatted at one of the locusts with its claws and killed it before it could jump away. Rather than counterattacking, the swarm surrounded the downed locust and feasted upon it too. The whole ordeal was unsatisfying.


    To fill its stomach, the tortoise swatted down another locust and ate it. The taste was unpleasant and the texture unpleasant. While the tortoise could eat meat just fine, it generally wouldn''t. The lack of plants made these locusts the only source of food left in the oasis. And despite their numbers, it was not infinite. Within a few days, they''d all be dead or cannibalize themselves enough to restore their population back to low numbers. Perhaps they''d all die out from this unsustainable consumption and destruction of the oasis. Or perhaps the lost plants would make a comeback once the locusts thinned out.


    When the tortoise returned the pond that filled its former burrow, it was struck by a temptation. It looked off into the wastes opposite the oasis, in the direction of the storm, and felt the desire to travel that way. Surely the ponds left behind by the storm would provide for the tortoise for a time. That was, as long as the tortoise was fast enough to outrun it drying up. It was a risk with its injuries and the fact that there was something in that direction that couldn''t be explained.

 Year 0 Month 0 Day 19 Exodus [20]

    When the tortoise woke up, the pond had almost completely dried up, with only a few centimeters left that were quickly becoming mud. No longer was it homely in any way. It looked up towards the direction the storm had assaulted and still saw some dark clouds, waiting for it, calling for it. Yet, these same clouds were traveling farther away, eclipsing the horizon. Slower than normal clouds but not stationary. It would not wait for the tortoise.


    After a good rest, the tortoise found that desire to leave to still be there. No, it was even stronger. A few specks of green lined the land in the distance by holes in the ground formed by hail and rain. These could be hardy weeds leaving behind a trail of breadcrumbs or locusts flying away and leaving behind despair. A path for the tortoise to follow with snacks and drinks provided free of charge, destination unknown.


    Either that or stay with a locust infested oasis. A place with water but no food other than the locusts. A life full of exploration and countless dangers or the safe and boring option that would only require a bit of fasting. Logically, the best option would be to stay. An adult tortoise, on the other hand, would have the leisure to leave and head out to find someplace new without worry as their body could handle it. This was a baby tortoise, not even a month old and wounded. Yet, it wanted to leave.


    The determining factor of whether or not it''d leave would be if it could move in the first place. It got up and its muscles ached a bit but the pain was mostly gone. Although the injuries weren''t gone, it had recovered enough to resume normal functions without a problem. Wandering off into the desert was not a normal function. That didn''t hold much weight in its eyes and it decided to head out. This was a trip that would hopefully bring it to a new land that was better. The grass was always greener on the other side of the veritable wasteland.


    Not to be outdone, another resident of the oasis made the same exact decision, the vulture. The bird flew far ahead of the tortoise, towards the heart of the storm. Such a sight furthered the tortoise''s resolve. It was not insane; another had the same option as it and took it. Not just the vulture, but the fox too. It was far ahead on foot, walking while sniffing around at the ground. These creatures that had relied on the oasis for the lifestyle collectively abandoned it after several stressful events and attempted to find a new place to re-establish their life at.This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.


    With the tortoise''s slow speed, it had no way of catching up. It went at its own pace, passing through these ravaged lands. Hail and heavy rain had left the ground battered and covered in holes. Within a few days, these dents upon the earth would be wiped clean like a slate. All evidence of the storm would be erased with it. Right now, these were places full of life. Water was cupped within these craters and weeds sprouted up all around them, forming miniature gardens. As the tortoise walked by, it would eat and drink from them, but wouldn''t go as far as to destroy these mini-ecosystems, just a little from each. Not that nature wouldn''t stamp them out anyways given enough time.


    Given enough time, everything would die. Life is about what is happening now, not what will happen later. Which is why the tortoise chose to leave the oasis even though it would right itself. Not a matter of logic but feeling and emotion. A feeling of now. It couldn''t help but take a quick glance behind, towards the oasis. There lied a tortoise, one of its brethren. This other tortoise was perfectly healthy, escaping the storm in some unique way. The point was that it was staring at the direction of the storm, yet refused to move. Experience, instinct, emotion. Often conflicting, sometimes working together. Who knew what guided that tortoise, but it stayed.


    Hours passed and the storm got further and further away. The tortoise was falling behind. The decision had been made and the deed was done. However, the other side of the deal wasn''t cooperating nor was it expected to. Even thought the tortoise chose to follow the storm, the storm chose to move on without it. Was it too late? Should the tortoise have left yesterday when it first got that feeling? Or did it never stand a chance with its slow speed?


    Whatever it was, the storm left behind a very obvious trail so the tortoise could still go down this path. It did not waver. Not all shared its optimism. The fox kept stopping and looking behind despite being so much farther ahead. Eventually, the tortoise even passed it in its hesitation. The path lined with food and drink was very good for morale. Meanwhile, the fox, being a carnivore, only had some water to reward it for its troubles and might be unable to find something to eat for days or even weeks. At least at the oasis it could eat locusts. In reality, the fox did not have much of a reason at all to follow the storm.


    Meanwhile, the vulture, seemingly blessed by the heavens with its gift of flight was a speck in the distant sky. A speck that combined with the storm. The vulture had done what they could not catch up with the storm for better or worse. Perhaps it would be granted a meeting with that mysterious being. Who knew what the future had in store.

 Year 0 Month 0 Day 20 Demon [21]

    Night had come upon the land and the tortoise continued its journey. It was a new day for the world but not for the tortoise as it had not slept nor will it. The clouds hung low in the distance, blending in with the sky, with only the absence of the stars marking its location.


    Without the sun showing the path, the same thing that allowed the tortoise to keep on track became an obstacle. Almost every other step it was stumbling over ditches and trenches. Occasionally, it would slip into a pond and get completely soaked in water. This trek was straining on the tortoise''s weak body and the water seeped into its soul. Every time it fell into the water, an iciness invaded its body that numbed everything and brought doubts. Why should it follow this cloud? Was it even worth it?


    The numbness was not the best substitute for the pain that wreaked its body. Despite how it sounds, it doesn''t completely get rid of the pain; it simply creates a new sensation. The cold pain was far less intrusive yet lingered and wore down the body. It also slowed reaction times and made it easier to injure oneself.


    Countless times the tortoise smacked its body against the earth. Its shell weighted it down, anchoring it to its slow and hardy lifestyle. Such a reckless style of moving was being punished. Nothing could change this.


    Except, it was not enough. More stars came into view. That shroud was gone with the first light. Dawn had come and the storm had gone. The tortoise had traveled day and night for nothing. Finally, it was free of the spell that had taken over it and it stopped. Just because of a stray fancy it had acted so unreasonably.


    Now it was far out into the wastes, a full day from the oasis. A day off from paradise, halfway to nowhere. The only good thing about this situation was that the tortoise had not gotten ill from the events of the previous night. Some of its old injuries had returned with a vengeance though, firmly grounding it on the spot.


    Once again, the tortoise was curled up under its shell. All it wanted was for time to pass so it could recover. Everything else felt secondary. It still had food and water from the ponds but they would dry up soon. As for shelter, it couldn''t be bothered. Not that it planned to or could stay awhile.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    A few hours and it came around, looking for something to eat. That "it" wasn''t the tortoise but the fox. The fox had finally caught up to the tortoise. Like the tortoise, it was free from the storm''s draw but decided not to head back. Now it was a long way from the oasis filled with locusts it could eat and was famished from walking all night. Seeing the tortoise curled up in its shell, the fox decided to steer clear until it noticed a few things.


    A crack in its shell, its head lying on the ground instead of raised and alert, and bruises on its legs. Despite its hard shell, the tortoise gave off an air of easy pickings. The fox walked over and tried prodding the cracked shell with its claw. The tortoise reacted, snapping its mouth shut intimidatingly. It worked for but a moment as the fox flinched before noticing that it hadn''t even moved its head. Fatigued, the tortoise hoped that just the sound of its mouth closing would scare it off. No such luck.


    However, the fox was still a bit wary of the tortoise''s powerful bite. It couldn''t take that head on so it didn''t, moving to the back of the tortoise. There, tender flesh was out in the open, a tail and two hind legs. A hearty feast for a scavenger.


    Before it could take a bite, it heard something and lifted its head up with its ears perked. Something that the tortoise couldn''t perceive caught the fox''s attention. A few moments later and it became audible, a high whistle that was getting increasingly loud.


    Something whizzed by the edge of the tortoise''s vision accompanied by a yelp. The fox ran in front of the tortoise, looking around. Blood leaked out of a nasty cut on its flank, turning its brown coat red. Whatever that thing was, it had attacked the fox. The enemy of the enemy is a friend, or so they say.


    The thing made another pass with a shrill noise like metal against a chalkboard. This time its target was the tortoise and struck its shell, leaving three long scratches on its surface while the tortoise was otherwise unharmed.


    The fox jumped over the tortoise and out of sight, trying to catch whatever that thing was but didn''t have the timing down. The tortoise was unable to see the rest of this fight. The thing did not attack the tortoise again, focusing on the fox. Only the resolution was witnessed.


    A red fox wandered past the tortoise victorious with something in its mouth. No, not something. It was the vulture. Yet, it was fundamentally different. A larger beak, larger claws, larger everything. Vultures had a dark plume but this one acquired a shiny pitch black one that rejected all sunlight. In its eyes was a red light that was rapidly fading.


    That day, the tortoise had its second encounter with a demon.

 Year 0 Month 0 Day 21-25 Wasteland Encounter [22]

    Another day had passed since the encounter. The fox didn''t show its face again and wandered off back towards the oasis with the demonised vulture in tow. The tortoise stayed to let its wounds recover a bit. Now, it was afternoon and felt its strength recover enough to move. It moved over to a nearby pond and got a drink then ate some weeds. The pond was more mud than water at this point but the tortoise lacked the leisure to be picky. The weeds were dry and crispy as the water started to run out and the sun gazed upon them.


    Now, the tortoise had a choice. To the left was the way back to the oasis. It was dried up but left a distinctive yet rough path to follow. It would take multiple days and there was only the guarantee of water at the end. To the right was the storm. The past few days proved that it would be impossible to catch up. A race against time, eating the bare minimal amount of weeds and drinking mud to survive while rushing off to an unknown location. Even if it caught up somewhat, it would be possessed by that feeling again. Those were the only choices with nothing behind and even more nothing ahead.


    A true wasteland this was, with nothing but dirt and clear skies as far as the eye could see. Not even plants could be seen in this area other than the occasional weed around the rapidly drying ponds. The heat intensified and distorted the air, twisting and writhing. It formed images just out of sight. The brain forcefully interpreted these as images, shapes, and colors as it didn''t understand them. An even more desperate mind filled with hope would change these images to something its host wants. Desert mirages leading the inexperienced to death.


    What did the tortoise see in this mirage? An oasis of course. Before the storm when it was vibrant and filled with plant life. A lost paradise that represented most of the tortoise''s life so far. Home. Feelings of nostalgia overwhelmed the tortoise despite it being only twenty-one days old. It started walking forward, towards an endless expanse of nothing. Nothing here and nothing there.


    The rough and torn soil was replaced with smooth and fine sand. If it weren''t for the fact it was blazing hot or that it got stuck everywhere, it would be extremely comfortable. With every walking step, it grated against the body, rubbing it raw. One hardship of many to come. The worst thing was that the sun was reaching places it normally wouldn''t. Its shell protected tender skin that had avoided exposure to the elements and was softer. The chips and scratches on the tortoise''s shell built up and revealed some of this skin or at least the layer of shell right above it. There was a distinctive feeling on its back, hot and itchy, a sensation alike the time the ants swarmed it. Now there was no water to hide in.The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    It headed towards the mirage that never came closer nor did it get farther away. It maintained a constant distance like a lure slowly being reeled in. The wasteland was baiting the tortoise, drawing it further in. The tortoise became more and more lost, with only the mirage keeping it going. At night, the mirage would fade away and the tortoise would be stuck, forcing it to go to bed even if it wanted to travel during the night. When morning came again, the mirage would reform a bit and would solidify throughout the day, creating the illusion that the tortoise was getting closer.


    The sun and moon danced across the sky, rising and falling multiple times. There were no sources of water or food. The tortoise was running on fumes. The mirage kept the tortoise going, granting it hope. A false hope that would never come because it wasn''t real. Alas, some hope was better than none for no hope was the same as death.


    In the blink of an eye, four days had passed to no avail. Its pace slowed from a crawl to something even less than a crawl. Its mouth had become completely dry while its stomach constantly ached and growled for food. There wasn''t anything the tortoise could do about this as it couldn''t find anything to satisfy either need. However, it''d be able to drink as much water and eat as much food as it wanted as soon as it reached the oasis just ahead. Just a few more meters. Just a few more kilometers. Just a few more days.


    At one point, the tortoise realized something was off. It had realized well before but chose to ignore it. For hours or even days, it had known that the mirage was fake. Did it make much of a difference? If it tried to backtrack, it would still die. Backwards was sure death. Ahead was unknown but most likely death. A likely death is preferable over a definite death. Left, right, back, forward. All lead to death. It was all a matter of choosing the path that brought death the slowest. As was life. This was an indisputable fact that all living things abided by. Or at least, one that most abided by. There were a select few that were smart enough to take other paths and then there were the ones who rejected all paths.


    Unfortunately, not all creatures are able to choose their own path. From birth to death they generally follow the same path, their destiny. Occasionally, a creature will be influenced to change their path and their destiny. Whether by choice or force, their entire life changes but they become confined to this new destiny.


    Dark times were ahead for the tortoise. Literally, as something passed overhead and cast a shadow that seemed to swallow everything and dispersed the mirage. Looking up, the tortoise saw a storm cloud drifting about. There wasn''t rain or lightning coming from it. It was strangely calm. An invisible pressure similar to when it was very muggy bore down on the tortoise and it felt like there was something behind it. The tortoise could not see it from this angle but it felt like it was extending a hand. Not to help, but to guide it to a way to help itself.


    Normally, it would reject this instinctively, but it was too weak to resist. It gave into this new path which was its destiny from the very beginning. During the tortoise''s third encounter with a demon, the encounter never ended.

 Year 0 Month 0 Day 25,26 Mirages End [23]

    The clouds slipped away, chasing the sun as it set towards the West. What was left behind was a single demon. It was also a tortoise. Both a demon and a tortoise at once. There weren''t many changes to the tortoise. It wasn''t suddenly able to use magic or twist the laws of reality at will. Instead, the changes were surprisingly basic. Longer claws, a reddish tint in the eyes, and its entire body seemed to be a shade darker than before. At first glance, it was an ordinary tortoise. And even after a few more glances, it was only a slightly odd tortoise.


    In front of the tortoise, the mirage reappeared, promising an easy life with food and drink. It began to walk forward, towards this optical illusion. Not for the promises it lied about but for the illusion itself. It saw through it and wanted revenge. Nothing held a higher position in its heart than destroying this mirage that had fooled it for so long. After a few hours and the loss of sunlight, the mirage left the tortoise hanging. The tortoise continued onwards, to the spot where the mirage had gone away.


    A fruitless effort as the mirage was everywhere and just a result of heat rising from the ground and the tortoise''s own emotions. It still searched and dug around at the ground. The new claws granted to it easily cut through the land and the very earth parted for it. One by one, new holes cropped up in this area to no avail. Later on, the tortoise would go to sleep to let the night pass then see the mirage come back in the morning. That is if it was a normal tortoise. A demon tortoise was not willing to give up as easily nor did it need to rest as much.


    Right as the fifteenth hole was made, something left the ground and jumped away. It was hard to see in the darkness and blended in quite well due to its similarly dark color. However, it had a distinctive gloss to it that the moonlight reflected off of, revealing its general position. For a few seconds, it stayed in one spot, hoping it had gotten away and the moon bore down on it, showing off what this creature was. A cricket.


    What was a cricket doing underground or in this part of the wasteland at all? The tortoise walked towards it, intending not to find out but close the investigation up for good. As it got closer the cricket began to furiously rub its back legs together. A very low chirp came from it, barely audible to the tortoise. Above the cricket, mist and moonlight swirled and condense into an image. A very small mirage was formed, bearing a resemblance to the oasis the former tortoise desired so much. The only difference from before was its size and that the image was distorted and weak, fading away on the edges and rippling ever so slightly.


    Why would a demon care about a silly illusion? It continued forward and raised its claw, its eyes glued to the cricket while ignoring the image it brought with it. Noticing this, the cricket hopped away, easily dodging the strike. The mirage shifted, changing into something else. Another tortoise standing in front of the tortoise. If it was still a tortoise it might have hesitated but now it was a demon. It swiped at the mirage, destroying it. Both the crickets back legs fell off while making a snapping sound. Somehow, the mirage''s destruction directly affected its caster.This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    It tried crawling away, unable to jump like it had before. The demon took its time, watching it squirm on the desert sands and passing it leisurely before turning to face it. A primordial fear took the cricket as it turned in another direction where the demon cut off until it gave up. It realized it had no chance as it could not jump nor make other illusions to get away. Its fated road had come to an end and it accepted that. The demon smiled and extended its hand, seeming to offer something new, another path. In return, the cricket perked up, trying to take this deal.


    Only for the hand to come down and crush the cricket. The possibility for a new demon to enter this world was ruthlessly crushed by the very thing that brought that possibility into being. Not that the demon possessed this ability yet, it had only mimicked what it had seen before to wring out some final hopes from the cricket before finishing it off. This was revenge for the mirage cricket leading it astray back when it was a tortoise. That isn''t to say it wouldn''t have done so if the cricket hadn''t led it off into the wastes. Now the only thing left to consider was if there was more.


    The illusion was much smaller than before. That could be attributed to the fact that it was night time when the light was weaker and when many creatures would sleep and be less active. However, there was a chance there was more. The very thought made the tortoise thirsty, not for water but for blood. Every few centimeters it dug a hole around the area where the original mirage once was. This search brought fruit quickly as another cricket was dug up.


    Unlike the other, it did not leave the safety of the underground willingly and got skewered on one of the demon''s claws. In an instant, it was dead, leaving no time for the demon to play with it. The tortoise felt no regrets about this as its ultimate goal was to kill all of them anyways and resumed its search. A few more were found, some killed instantly while others put up pointless mirages before being killed off. the hunt lasted all night, only ending when the morning came.


    Then, much to the tortoise''s annoyance, the mirage reappeared though much smaller than before. It took a single step forward and the mirage split apart into several smaller illusions that scattered. While it had not killed them all, it had embedded a fear into them. They did not wait to become like their comrades and moved onto an easier target. After all, they weren''t demons despite being able to use some sort of unexplainable magic that resembled a natural phenomenon. They valued their lives above all else and weren''t as stupid as normal insects were. And like that, the mirage that had misguided the tortoise came to an end.

 Year 0 Month 0 Day 26 Afternoon Cactus [24]

    With the crickets causing the mirage gone, the tortoise was once again trapped in a situation of not knowing where to go. It looked to the earth and found nothing of interest. To the heavens, there was only the sun rising from the East, steadily climbing to its throne. On a whim, the tortoise headed East, towards the origin of the sun and also a direction that would bring the night faster. Not by much, in fact, a barely noticeable amount, but an amount nonetheless. It was the thought that counts.


    One step after another, the demon clumsily moved forward. It stumbled a few times as it had trouble keeping its footing. No longer were its legs and claws designed for digging and moving through the desert. They had been repurposed and became weapons. Being a bit slower was not a big deal to a tortoise with no destination in mind. Nowhere to go and nothing to lose, the most dangerous kind of creature.


    Along the way to nothing, came a cactus. In the middle of the wasteland with no water, this hardy plant managed to survive. And that survival was about to come to an end to further another''s destined path. The tortoise approached it and started scraping off its needles out of habit.


    Instead of taking a bite of its now defenseless flesh, it gave it a swipe of its claw. For the demon, eating was no longer a necessity and it came to the cactus to destroy it, not to consume it as before. Cactus flesh and fluids were scattered across the ground, wasted and the death of the cactus was guaranteed.


    Before, the tortoise killing the cacti was justified as it did so for sustenance but the demon did so out of spite. The cactus followed a path it didn''t so the demon terminated that path. A mix of jealousy and pride swelled in the demon aa it assured itself that it was better than the cactus.


    What it hadn''t noticed in its thoughts was the water rising into the air and forming the shape of a claw. The claw grabbed the edge of the tortoise''s shell and the demon finally noticed this oddity. This claw was the same as the tortoise''s claw in appearance. Except, the tortoise had the rest of its body at the end of its claw, not a serpent that coiled around its neck. The serpent''s mouth opened as if it was going to bite the tortoise. It could not escape as the serpent tightened itself with impressive strength for something made from water.


    Completely restrained, the tortoise fell over and had its leg glued to its neck. The claw became indistinct as it turned back to freeform water, swallowing up a portion of its body and sticking to it like gel. No bite came as the serpent hung directly above the tortoise''s temple, decorating it like the statue of a god. Like the pagan gods of old, this god demanded sacrifice and tribute.Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.


    Sensing the presence of this being of water, the water within the tortoise was persuaded to join it, passing through the skin. The very thought made the tortoise''s blood thin as it became pale-faced and its body started to shrivel up from lack of moisture. Meanwhile, the demon''s very energy and life were drawn out in the form of heat as it funneled into the serpent''s mouth. Like that, the tortoise''s body heat plummeted.


    Thankfully, the sun was out and high in the sky, about to hit its zenith. This slowed the process down and helped replenish the tortoise''s heat levels while evaporating some of the water that constituted the serpent. Alas, the serpent absorbed more water than it lost and the sun wasn''t enough to save the tortoise''s life. Or was it?


    Seeming to sense something, the serpent looked up and stopped sapping the tortoise. It looked to the skies and saw the sun radiating an intense light that only grew in strength. The serpent let go of the tortoise, freeing it, as it itself hid back in the cactus. Despite the opening, the cactus still offered a mediocum of protection from the sun. Confused but happy about this development, the tortoise got back up and looked to the heavens. There it saw a figure within the sun whose existence shook the demon to its very core. Fear, an emotion it hadn''t felt since becoming a demon even with that water serpent, had reared its ugly face once again.


    Even stronger than that fear was hatred. It despised that figure within the sun and it despised the serpent that attacked it. Instead of seeking shelter from the sun''s iridescence like the serpent, it steeled itself then attacked the cactus out of vengeance. If it would not hide from the sun, what gave that lowly serpent the right to. With a single blow, the cactus and parts of the serpent''s watery body collapsed and were exposed to all of the sun''s harsh rays.


    With no shelter and the sun bearing down on the serpent, it decided to flee. Its body zigzagged as it swam through the very air, its body taking the shape of a snake completely as it flew off. One does not simply run away from the sun.


    The entire sky became yellow and the ground was saturated with light and vibrant colors. In the sky, the figure from before seemed to be sitting down while looking over the lands below. An overwhelming presence accompanied by a wave of heat washing over the lands. Being made of pure water, the serpent never stood a chance, disappearing mid-flight as it completely evaporated. Yet, the demon was not unaffected by this. The very light scalded its body and brought forth incredible pain. There was heat but the heat was not too bad. This was something different as the light rejected the demon''s existence like it rejected the light and the figure above''s path. Mutual rejection and one-sided pain as the other side didn''t even notice the demon, collateral damage from just existence alone.


    Before any serious damage could be done, the world returned to normalcy. The skies turned blue and no figure could be found in the sun. Which left behind a crispy, mummified, demon tortoise. Lacking the energy to move after such an event, the tortoise laid there for a few hours.

 Out of Shell [Discussion]

    The title of this discussion is a play on OOC, or out of character. I''m basically going to discuss a few things about the story here that I may have touched upon in an author''s note or left you guys hanging on.


    Comments


    I''ve been trying to reply to every comment to encourage people to do so, but it''s a bit tedious to do so and I can''t always think of a response to every comment unless I start doing some BS "Thanks for the cha- comment" stuff. So, I''ll respond to comments that I can think of responses to and won''t for ones I can''t. Don''t take this as me not reading them or ignoring you, I read every comment, even the wacky ones from Mr. Bubbles.


    Daily Chapters


    I''ve started missing a few of my self-imposed deadlines for posting chapters every day. I''ve hit a few times where I simply didn''t know what to write or procrastinated too much. I even tried doing an all-nighter once and it just made me feel like shit the next day while I only wrote one chapter that day. So, it''s not worth staying up an excessively long time to finish up a chapter and I don''t feel like I''ll be able to catch up to the lost days anytime soon.


    The point is that my releases may not always be consistent. However, I don''t intend on dropping this story and I do want to complete this story at some point.


    Publishing


    One of the motivating factors behind my writing is the thought of eventually publishing this once there is enough content. I intend on heavily editing the story before putting it up on say Amazon. It''ll probably be different in many ways. Some parts may be cut out and there will be new content. Also, it''ll likely have a different title.


    For those worried about this, note that I''m most likely going to keep this on the site as a draft. As for the continuation of the story past the point of the published parts, it shouldn''t be too different and you should be able to understand what''s going on. And if it is completely different, I''ll probably lean in the direction of continuing from the storyline of the published version and posting a summary that highlights the differences to prevent confusion.


    I already have a fairly decent editor in mind and I know some decent artists. I''m not going to just slap this on Amazon as soon as I hit a point that can be considered the end of a book. I''m going to put serious money into publishing the story. And I won''t judge you one bit if you don''t buy it because I wouldn''t buy it in your shoes.


    I''m thinking about trying to hit at least 50,000 words before doing anything about publishing past looking into services and how to publish. Since chapters average about 1,000 words per chapter, we''re about halfway to that point. If I was doing something like 1,300~ words per day instead I could call this a NaNoWriMo (That is, if I had started this on the first of the month and didn''t miss any days). Instead, we''re almost at day 30 and I''m only halfway done.Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.


    Narration


    I touched upon this in an author''s note before but I''ve noticed a focus in both comments and reviews on my style of narration. The thing is that with an animal protagonist, random facts, and third person omniscient POV, the story does feel like a documentary. This wasn''t exactly my intentions but I''m glad people like it.


    Also, the narration follows the story along sorta like my thoughts, jumping around to different points that I find important in my mind while trying to maintain some semblance of logical and linear storytelling. Often times in the past, I''ve tried suppressing this in my writing to keep things consistent to a genre or my mood. With this story, I have a few thoughts about what the chapter will be about then let my mind drift off.


    Concept of the Story


    Originally, the entirety of this story revolved around a turtle that was also a demon. It came to me one time while I was daydreaming and I just had to write it. It was weird and vague, yet compelling.


    The story started in my head with the turtle already as a demon just going around while the world reacted to it. When I started actually writing it, I decided to instead start from the beginning. I just felt like I''d run out of ideas quickly if I started at that point and it''d just be a short story. With starting from birth when it''s still not a demon, I can do a lot of build up that wasn''t there before.


    Of course, there were a lot more changes from the original concept. For one, it became a tortoise since I don''t feel like having an aquatic protagonist and the setting being in a desert made for a good setup.


    For you see, originally it was supposed to become a demon by its own will. Facing tribulation after tribulation with bad things happening constantly until it was driven from safety then placed in its most vulnerable state. Hungry, thirsty, and alone in a place with nothing.


    Using the cloud demon to turn it into a demon was actually laziness on my part. A deus ex machina as I couldn''t execute the tortoise becoming a demon from its own willpower well enough.


    Past that point, I don''t really know. I was sorta hoping the story would be longer by now with the demon transformation happening towards the end of my 50,000-word goal for the book and then brainstorming the next book around that time.


    I could''ve just had the demon tortoise wandering the desert but that''d be boring. Or I could''ve had an event happen to change the setting a bit, something that will still happen but later than planned. Instead, I got the idea yesterday for a sorta stylistic change where everything isn''t as it seems. Making what was normal and logical before suddenly mystical with strange creatures creating the mirages and such. It calls into question everything that happened before when the tortoise was normal.


    It also fills in some gaps of stuff that isn''t factual and I BS''d. That''s not how that works? MAGIC bruh. Hopefully, it won''t be too much of a crutch.


    Conclusion


    So here''s some random stuff that has been on my mind. Not everything, just some snippets here and there that surfaced. Feel free to use the comment section here to ask me more in-depth questions about the series.

 Year 0 Month 0 Day 26-30 [25]

    Injuries that once would''ve put the tortoise out commission for weeks were now only a minor inconvenience. Shriveled and loose skin filled out and it stood up. Not without consequence as it was very weak. A demon was an existence that rejected and was rejected itself. Whenever it tried to destroy, something would counter it. For if there was no opposite reaction, everything would have been long destroyed.


    A whole new world had appeared before the demon''s new eyes. One far more hostile than the previous. It could see but it wished it could be blind, wiping all that is new away. Everything old as well.


    Right now, things were perfect. For miles all around, there was nothing. No plants, no animals, no life in general. Even the land itself was dry and infertile while the heat was intense. If only everywhere was the same as here. A noble goal for a demon and a lofty one.


    To accomplish such a task, it could not stay as welcoming as these lands were. The wastes were where demons lived while they went to greener pastures to play. This demon was no different as it resumed its journey towards nothing. As long as it moved forward, it would eventually find something, no matter how long it took. With a goal to set fire to its soul, the demon traveled full speed ahead. Which was painfully slow as it was still a tortoise.


    The next day, the sunstroke again at noon. A wave of energy lit the skies aflame and scorched the demon. Back when it was a tortoise, it only faced high heats in the afternoon, not solar flares. Or had it and it hadn''t even noticed? That was the thing, the world was different yet the same.


    Another day, the tortoise was prepared. Around an hour before, it dug a hole. Its claws parted the land and a burrow was created with ease. An hour wasn''t used. Within five minutes a hole was formed. If only it had this kind of skill when it was normal, it would''ve had nothing to fear of the climate nor unruly neighbors.


    Alas, now this skill, as fast as it was, was being used to escape from an event that took only five seconds to happen. Even now, it had almost an hour until the event came about. Yet, it refused to leave the hole for fear that it would happen as soon as it left. The hole being built so fast was a miscalculation and the hole itself was an anchor, hampering progress. Once it was built, it had to stay near it for it to be effective.


    And effective it was. Only a small amount of yellow found its way into the burrow with a sizzle. And then it was over. The demon had built itself a miniature underworld to protect itself from the heavens. It was not isolated from above world nor could it escape the full punishment, but it worked and that was all that counts.


    Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    The next day was different. Remembering how long it waited and how much time was wasted, the demon kept pushing off on building a hole. It still planned as such; it simply procrastinated the actual construction in favor of moving ahead for five more minutes. Five became ten and ten became a full hour. Eventually, the demon found itself lacking a burrow right as noon was about to strike.


    Too late, it would face the full brunt of the heaven''s wrath that day. Not that it didn''t try to build one at the last second. When the second scoop of land flew into the air, it struck and the hole became pointless. The sun was the one to mete out the flare yet the fault lied all upon the tortoise for waiting. The demon felt angry at both itself and the sun.


    Of course as a demon, it would seek to extinguish the celestials eventually but the demon made a pact within its soul that the last thing it''d destroy was itself. A fitting end to celebrate success.


    However, another day passed without any signs. That afternoon it conservatively built its shelter a half hour before the flare. Still, way too much time spent waiting but far better than overshooting. After all, how was a tortoise supposed to keep track of time properly?


    Unlike other days which composed of monotonous traveling, the tortoise found something marring the land. Trials in the sand, a meter deep and two meters wide. Three in total and unnaturally straight. It looked like a pack of large beast went through this area directly in front of where the tortoise was heading at an angle.


    Since it was not alive, the demon chose to ignore it and the tortoise decided to cross it. Except, it was too steep to go straight across. Getting inside was easy as the sand rolled down with the tortoise in tow as it approached the edge. Leaving was hard as the sand crumbled easily and the walls were steep and rounded.


    The easiest way to progress was to just change direction and follow this trench. So it did. One direction headed somewhat towards where the tortoise came from so it chose the opposite direction. A smooth, straight path that was impossible to get lost or turned around on. In this trench, the tortoise''s progress sped up considerably. A pointless journey towards nowhere to get somewhere was accelerated.

 Year 0 Month 1 Day 1 Trench [26]

    Down the trench, the tortoise went, a destination at the end. Unknown, but better than nothing. The sand was tightly packed at the bottom of the trench unlike the sides and was easy to travel on. Not even the tortoise''s sharp claws dug too deep into the ground, preventing it from stumbling as much. Progressing along an already developed route was convenient.


    The only issue was what created these paths and if they''d come again. Such a well maintained trail would be regularly frequented by some large beast, one that could easily kill the tortoise. It wouldn''t even have to be intentional; a large creature could simply crush the tortoise underfoot none the wiser. There were beings in the world that harmed others just by existing and they weren''t even demons.


    A day passed in the trench and not only did a new day come, but a new month. The tortoise was now a month old. Just a single month since it came into being. It was still a baby, experiencing the world and learning from it despite its demonic inclinations.


    When noon approached on this new month, the demon found itself in a predicament. It could not dig a hole properly in this trench and it was exposed to the elements. The walls of the trench? They would crumble down every time he dug at it, threatening to bury it and trap it forever onward. The floor? It was too sturdy and took long periods of time due to how packed it was and rocks just beneath the surface.


    With no obvious cover, the demon would just have to endure the pain in the open. No danger to its life was present; it was just a major inconvenience. With ten minutes tops before it got fried again, the demon stopped and just watched the sun. As it did so, a cloud of dust caught the corner of its eye.


    Behind, there was something coming, following the trails like the tortoise had. No, it was the thing that had made the trails in the first place. Clouds erupted behind its position, spreading out from behind. These clouds traveled forward with the creature, creating an artificial wind and carrying things forward like waves left behind in the wake of a boat.


    Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.


    Two more appeared, previously hidden by the dust clouds but were now outrunning them. A pack of three were here with one on a collision course with the tortoise. If that could be called a collision with the tortoise just being crushed.


    As they came closer, their figures became more distinct. The things approaching had smaller creatures riding on top of them, around three on each of them. And they weren''t even alive but vessels for these smaller beings. The best way to describe them were boats that traveled on land.


    The one on the path to the tortoise slowed down to a stop instead of running it over. A miniature sandstorm filled the area as the wave behind the three boats caught up to the tortoise''s position. The demon closed its eyes to keep the sand out. All it could feel was sand scraping at its body and it heard two loud thumps accompanying the wind''s melody.


    When the tortoise opened its eyes, a strange being stood before it. Its entire body was covered in cloth instead of scales or feathers. Not even its eyes were visible as glass goggles just reflected the image of the tortoise back at it. This being, human being, spread out its arms in a welcoming way as if the human was offering another path.


    This didn''t last long as the tortoise''s vision switched to the ground and its body felt heavier than usual. A view of two sets of legs and a strong grip on its legs revealed what happened. Rather than an offering, it was a distraction while its friend captured it from behind. A precaution against the tortoise''s powerful bite and surprisingly long neck.


    If the humans hadn''t have done this, it could have¡ªno, would have bitten off a few fingers had one tried to grab it. Alas, it was captured by the humans instead and brought aboard the boat. Before it could get a good look at anything, it was thrown into a box at the back of the boat and cut off from the outside world as a lid swallowed the sky.

 Year 0 Month 1 Day 1 Return Trip [27]

    Inside the box, the tortoise was isolated. It was too dark to see anything and there were no sounds coming from outside. Things were eerily quiet as the boat and the humans manning it stayed silent. The other two boats were either far ahead, leaving this one in the dust, or were stopped like this one. This silence continued until the peak of the day struck a few moments later, accompanied by a flash of light.


    This light could not infiltrate the box, only leaking through the lid and seeping through the wood grain to illuminate the inside. While it did sting a little, it helped the tortoise get its bearings and saw a few features of the box. Like how it was made of wood and was brown in color. There was also a few darker spots on the walls of the box that could be stains or knots in the wood grain. Whatever they were, they were slightly red in color.


    As the light faded and things returned to normal, the boat set off. It made a low rumbling noise as it moved and the entire boat shook violently with each pulse and groan. Combined with the dark, warm, and damp environment within the box, the tortoise felt like it was in the belly of a beast. Not far off with the plans the humans had in store for it, or rather what they stored it for.


    Food. One of the most important things for day to day life was enough food to get by. In areas like the wasteland, food was a scarce resource and ways to preserve foodstuffs for long periods of time was a lifesaver. Salting and drying food was nice, but there was a better way of preserving food, keeping it alive until it was to be eaten. Tortoises made for perfect travel rations as they could go for years without eating or drinking, making them very low maintenance and last for a long time.


    If the demon was still an ordinary tortoise, it would be helpless in such a situation and fall prey to the humans with little resistance. No, even if it was still a normal tortoise, it would still try to escape. Being a demon simply gave it the necessary tools to escape properly. Long and sharp claws proved to be a strong asset in this kind of situation. It clawed away at the wall, leaving behind scratches that slowly built up and got deeper.Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.


    After about an hour of work scraping away at the wall, a small gap was made, granting a glimpse outside of the box. The reason why it took so long was that the boat was constantly shaking and bumping around, knocking the box and the tortoise inside around and making it hard to keep at the wall for longer than a few seconds. Not to mention, the box was surprisingly thick.


    Outside was a wall of smoke and dust kicked up by the boat. This was to be expected as the box was at the back of the boat and the hole was facing off to the side. This was not to last long as the boat slowed down and came to a stop. After a few moments, the dust cleared and the destination was revealed. It was the oasis.


    The tortoise''s trip off into the unknown wastes had gone full circle. Yet, the oasis was strangely unfamiliar at this time. The positioning of landmarks such as the lone tree was on the other side of the lake while the lake itself felt distorted somehow. The only thing that was familiar was a swarm of locusts consuming everything in sight including themselves.


    The humans disembarked from the boat while carrying bundles of thick cloth and some grass. They laid out the cloth on the ground then placed some grass on top of it as bait. These simple traps worked and locusts quickly swarmed around the cloth, allowing the humans to pick up the cloth by their corners and wrap the bugs up. Bag after bag full of locusts were caught and loaded onto the ship.


    At this point, it was hard to tell which species was more destructive. Insects that swarmed in the hundreds and consumed everything in sight or intelligent mammals that traveled miles and used devious traps to capture all the locusts whether they were in sight or not. Such a sight improved the demon''s opinion of them yet did little to damper its aspirations.


    Meanwhile, the tortoise whittled away at the hole, widening it until it could fit its head through while it could. Given more time, it could make the gap large enough to fit its entire body through and leave the boat. Unfortunately, there was no time for that as the humans loaded up the last of the locusts and got back on the boat. Before setting off, there was some hesitation and arguments with the humans.


    They had spotted the trail of destruction left behind by the storm, craters and scars upon the land. Without any strong winds in the oasis as of recent, there wasn''t enough erosion to smooth out the lands. Without erosion, even something as fragile as a footprint could last years without change.


    There were two options open for them. Follow the trail of destruction or continue the path made before by their boats to a known location.

 Year 0 Month 1 Day 2 Ride [28]

    They could have just gone on their way. Keep going to their predetermined destination. Play it safe. Go somewhere and reliably get food, water, and shelter. Everything a living thing could ask for. Yet, they did not.


    Curiosity got the better of them and overwhelmed their desire to survive. A new path was carved into the land, literally as the boats dug up the earth and left a new trench in their wake. This new path was even more turbulent than the previous as the bumps actually made the box go into the air a bit. Only a few ropes kept the box and other luggage on the boat.


    In these conditions, the tortoise continued to dig at the hole. While the bouncing around made it harder to tear away at it. Conversely, the bouncing actually helped widen the hole as cracks spread out like a spider''s web every time the box slammed down onto the boat. The ride was both impeding and helping the tortoise with its escape while the humans were focused wholeheartedly on the path of destruction before them.


    With how much air the boats were getting from every bump, they could be considered flying. Soaring ahead, leaving behind a rough trench that would only be smoothed over after dozens of more times going through it. Or perhaps, going down the path slower so it didn''t take flight and leave gaps every few seconds. Not that the humans cared about leaving behind a proper trail; they just wanted to find out the root of this as fast as possible before returning back to their old ways.


    While they were distracted, the tortoise was finally freed from its cage. The box''s wall collapsed and it was thrown out of the box, but not the boat. Around the top of the boat were curved walls that helped keep its contents onboard. They could not be scaled easily and the only way the tortoise could leave is if it hung out around the sides and hoped the turbulent ride would throw it off. At these speeds, a fall like that could be fatal and the demon within wanted some revenge.


    Not immediately, the shaking of the boat provided no opportunities. It laid towards the back of the boat, relying on its shell to anchor itself somewhat and protect it. Still, it was shaken and tossed around considerably. All of the humans stood at the front of the boat with heavy wind currents blasting them head on. While the tortoise could only place itself directly in front of some luggage to prevent hurricane force winds from sweeping it clean off. An opportunity would come soon thought the demon as it stood its ground.


    Night fell and the boat continued its journey without rest. Occasionally, water would splash into the air and coat the deck, a beautiful sight as moonlight reflected off its surface. At the same time, it made the spot the tortoise was in a cold site. Water would runoff towards the back of the boat from the wind and the wind made it rapidly evaporate on whatever surface it happened to be on, lowering the temperature considerably and occasionally solidifying to frost instead of evaporating. At least it wasn''t turning into weird creatures and assaulting the tortoise.Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    When midnight struck, the boat finally came to a rocky stop as the humans shut everything down and bowed to the skies. They stared at the skies where the moon that was almost full with just a sliver of darkness tainting its outer reaches graced the skies. Suddenly, the darkness expanded across the entire moon, swallowing it completely before receding slowly. As if the moon was an eye and the Celestials blinked. When it fully receded, the darkness had expanded slightly, barely discernable to the eye.


    The tortoise had observed this moment with the humans, missing any opportunities it may have presented as it had not seen this before. Noon would bring great harm to it and was impossible to notice for a demon, but who would think to look up during the night. Even if one were to continue on instead of rest, would they look to the dark skies or keep to the earth where the reason they stayed up existed, looking forward. Of course, since this event did not harm it, the demon soon forgot this event and got back on track to its plan of vengeance.


    Unfortunately, the humans'' inattention did not last forever. Affording them a chance to take a look, the boat was already stopped and the humans simply had to look back once. No obstacles were in sight. The tortoise was positioned directly in front of the luggage to keep itself from flying away. Half a meter away was the box that formerly held it with a gaping hole in it. Two and two were put together and one of the humans rushed the tortoise.


    The demon did not back down from this offensive and counterattacked, lifting its claws to meet the charge. Hitting naught but air as the human was not even aiming for the tortoise but the luggage behind. With a leap, it suddenly had the high ground and two other humans closed in from the other sides, surrounding it. The weak point of a tortoise was maneuverability and these humans knew this well. Why attack a tortoise head on when you can get behind it and render it harmless. A shield needs a sword with it to effectively fight and a shield alone is bulky and a burden in a fight.


    A survival method relying on making it less convenient to kill did not work on beings who used wit and intelligence. For them, figuring out how to make inconvenient things convenient was how they thrived. A tortoise was a sitting duck ready to be butchered to any human worth their salt. As for a demon? It depended on the kind of demon. And a demon tortoise held no difference to a human unless they found out it was a demon.


    The human on top of the luggage stepped down, onto the back of the tortoise where it couldn''t reach, and sat down. Then the boat resumed its journey. With a human on its back, the tortoise had added weight that kept it from bouncing but was unable to move as well. Also, it was under constant surveillance and couldn''t execute any plans. If only it could reach its claws or mouth towards its back, it could do some serious damage. Instead, it was left helpless as an observer as the humans closed in on the cloud.


    The very fact that water would splash onto the boat was proof the storm was close. Water filled up the craters from the storm and created ponds that the boat cut through. The wait wasn''t that long as dark clouds could be seen in the distance as soon as dawn broke. If only dawn wasn''t the only that broke at this moment.

 Year 0 Month 1 Day 2 [29]

    The storm was congregated at one spot, forming a tower reaching for the heavens. Normally, clouds would spread out and cover the lands or drift about as balls of fluff. This cloud was forming a cyclone that reached for the stars and what lied beyond. A spectacle that could be seen from miles away just revealed now by the rays of dawn. A sight to behold or more likely one to fear. The humans were left awestruck and incapable of doing anything but stare. Events far beyond their understanding were starting to unfold.


    A blade of wind, running afoul from the storm, struck the side of the ship, nearly flipping it onto its side. The humans finally snapped out of it. One of them, appearing to be the leader, took control of the ship. While another took cover while hugging the side of the ship. Meanwhile, the final one remained seated upon the tortoise but took advantage of the situation to grab onto the straps keeping the luggage down. This action happened to also secure the tortoise nicely, not that it appreciated it.


    They began shouting at each other and the one controlling the boat steered it to the left, trying to turn the situation around. Alas, the wind grew stronger and caught the boat, driving it in a curved path to the storm. Had the boat stayed straight, ironically it would have had a better chance of resisting the storm''s whims. All of the forces of nature combined their might at the heart of the storm and the humans were about to experience it in full.


    At this moment, the sky bled and a crimson red coated the skies. The sun marched over the horizon with its sights set upon the tower. The last thing the humans and tortoise saw of this godly being was it lifting up a spear made of pure lightning. The storm swallowed them up and walls of dust were kicked up, eliminating all visibility to the outside world other than straight up. Above, as opposed to the stark red that tinted the world, was darkness decorated by a smattering of stars and planets shining brightly. Unpolluted and pure.


    Part of the cyclone collesquied into a figure that climbed up and reached its hand towards the sky. Only to fall back down with a flash. A literal flash as something passed through the storm at speeds faster than the eye. It left behind a hole that only showed red as if the clouds themselves were bleeding. In response, the storm howled at the sky angrily, shaking the world twice over. The humans cowered and covered their ears while the tortoise was tempted to join in but could only let out a low hiss.This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.


    The portal to another realm at the top of the tower of clouds collapsed inward, ruined by this sudden assault. Another flash seared through the area, whizzing by with a crackle, exploding just on the other side of the wall of dirt. It was getting closer to the being within and consequently the boat containing the humans and tortoise. Like artillery, these attacks were nonstop yet highly inaccurate. Constantly being adjusted and coming closer every few minutes. A direct hit was inevitable but the humans were unable to escape and the demon of the storm refused to budge, simply roaring like thunder whenever an attack passed.


    At one point, the attacks paused and the storm demon approached the humans out of curiousity. It had long noticed them yet had little attention to spare beforehand. Now, it had a respite and even noticed the tortoise demon within their possession. Before the humans was a being they did not understand and were not sure how to react to. Should they worship it or reject it? Those were the only options for something so strong and above them.


    Their leader took this decision upon themself, grabbing a spear from the bow of the ship. They made the decision to reject this being because of how dangerous it was. It must die. They took a step forward with the spear raised over their shoulder ready to throw. The hurricane force winds disappated around this human as their entire body flexed in anticipation of throwing the spear. Kinetic energy gathered as their entire body became a spring with only one way of releasing this pent up energy.


    Before the throw could be completed, the demon did a casual backhand slap and the human leader disappeared. Both them and their spear were nowhere to be found. The only thing left of their existence here was a few drops of blood that fell to the deck of the boat. A few drops landed on the other humans and tortoise. This faint dampness and warmth was unnerving and struck fear into the depths of their souls. At least, the human''s souls while it was doubtful the demon tortoise even had one at this point.


    Next, the storm demon''s attention was drawn to the other humans. Both of which immediately prostrated themselves before the demon. Opposition meant death. Resistance was futile. Like that, the tortoise was freed as the human that sat upon it laid before it. It bit into the leg of the human, drawing blood and causing immense pain yet it evoked no reaction. The human did not dare move an inch with the demon hovering directly above them. While the tortoise recognized the storm as a temporary ally due to their shared demonic origins.


    Then, the storm demon turned around. A sensation ran up the spine of the tortoise, a feeling it thought it had abandoned. Fear. An overwhelming feeling that if it stayed in this spot, it would die. The world within the clouds started to light up as the dark clouds became white and then yellow. The ground beneath them stopped being carried in a circle by the wind and started to slowly drift upwards.

 Year 0 Month 1 Day 2 Battle of the Giants [30]

    Time slowed to a crawl as the tortoise felt its own existence start to fade. Emotions and sensations filled its body once more. A desire to survive, a hunger for food, water, and other small comforts swelled up to a bursting point. Things it took for granted until it had them all stolen away from it. The demonic side of it rejected these vehemently, tearing the tortoise apart from the inside.


    The fastest way to destroy a demon was to temporarily turn it into the thing it resented most and destroy itself, back to normal. However, the tortoise was not the target but a careless bystander. These feelings faded away as the demon won. Not without consequence as the tortoise realized a hole within its body and soul. What it lost without its own will. A wisp of that what was lost remained in the body, ignored by the demonic side due toits small size and the demon''s injuries.


    On the battlefield of a storm, a spear made of pure light pulsated within the ground. The root of the attack from before as static electricity was abuzz around it. The electricity from this spear had crawled throughout the ground to affect all in the area. Of the humans, one was curled up in a fetal position while the other was sprawled on the ground, gripping their chest and twitching as though they were having a heart attack.


    As for the demon within the clouds, a hole was present upon their body, straight through their chest. A blue liquid flooded from its body like blood and it remained motionless in the air, devoid of life. The spear of the gods hit their mark and the demon was like an angel about to fall from grace. The rest of the clouds began to bleed as well, pouring from the sky. Water, it was water. The wounded cloud freely bled water. After all, a cloud was just water and dust.


    Then, the demon began to crystallize. As if the demon had stared into the eyes of Medusa, it started to petrify, starting from its wounds and branching out freely. Ice, the demon was freezing in its deathlike state as if all its energy was leaving. The rain followed in its footsteps, becoming a freezing cold. The spear made constant sparks as the rain interfered with it. The light within it faded away with every drop of water, the water rejected the spear and the spear rejected the water, creating mutual destruction. Sheer quantity made the rain win out. The spear shrunk and sank into the Earth, never to be seen again.The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    And then the cloud demon moved, for dead it was not. Nor was the coming of the rain unintentional. With a lift of its finger, the rain ceased. Not to be. To where. Frozen in the air until it did rise and become frozen in another sense before falling once again. Only to be caught once more and uplifted again. No longer was rain present but hail, made of the same thing yet many times more destructive.


    Like the hole in the demon''s body, there lied a break in the clouds, allowing a view of the outside world, where a being akin to a god was visible before the sun. There it looked down upon the clouds with a relaxed position as it sat upon its throne. Within its very being was a distinct arrogance, as if nothing could oppose it. The concept that something could survive the attack had just sent was novel to it. Not that it was unaware; it simply was curious about what the storm would bring next.


    Some of the hail fell to the ground uselessly while the remaining ones gained the demon''s full focus and were sent outward. Chunks of ice were haphazardly lobbed towards the god. With minimal effort, the hail was dodged and fell back to the earth. In response, the god threw some lightning back at the demon. The demon simply closed the hole in the clouds and changed position before opening another hole and sending another volley. An air war between the two started with neither having an advantage.


    The so-called god held air superiority and a height advantage while the demon could use its own body as cover without obscuring its own sight. The only thing that could tip the scales ever so slightly was the demon''s wounds. Meanwhile, the humans and tortoise were stuck in the middle of this warzone, taking cover as lightning whizzed by and ice fell from the sky as if the world was ending. Both sides unintentionally held a direct stake in this fight as the demon would kill the humans given the chance while the being within the sun would not tolerate the tortoise.


    Neither sides showed signs of stopping as the war entered a stage of attrition. It became increasingly obvious that the fight would take awhile. With every second of continued fighting, the chances of something bad happening to the bystanders increased. Not only was this war a conflict of ideals, but a conflict of interests as countless outcomes and consequences stretched out from this single battle. Those who stood to lose the most had the least say as well.


    An overwhelming sense of inferiority took hold within the tortoise. A battle of metaphorical giants took place and it could do nothing but watch as it was a mere ant that could be snuffed out at any second. Forget rejecting the destiny of the world; it could not even change its own destiny at this present moment. If only it was stronger in some way.

 New Name or Nah?

    IMPORTANT: THIS IS NOT ABOUT THE CURRENT FICTION. THIS IS ABOUT THE UPCOMING PUBLISHED VERSION OF THIS STORY. THE CURRENT FICTION''S NAME WILL STAY THE SAME. TL;DR AT BOTTOM.


    If you''ve paid attention to previous author notes and comments, you''ll know that I plan to publish this. The published version will be very different with heavy edits, some new parts, and some parts cut out. Think of this story as like a draft for that upcoming story. By differentiating this from the published version, I believe it will be easier to keep this story up for free and leave buying the published version as optional. While making the published version different enough to be worth reading both.


    Side note: While this is a draft version, I will transfer over as many spelling/grammar fixes as I can. I might make an epub of this draft too for those offline readers.


    This brings up several questions about what differences there should be. I know for sure that I want a different cover for the published version. I''m keeping EpicKiller11''s cover on this for now. However, I''m a bit torn about the name.


    Should I keep the same name?


    "Observation of a Demon Tortoise"


    I came up with this name for a simple reason. One, it''s direct and tells you exactly what the story is about from a single glance. Two, it''s unprofessional and works well together with the cover. I lied about changing the cover eventually and intended to keep the Microsoft Paint one as it complemented the unprofessional element to the story''s draw. Of course, EpicKiller11''s cover was too beautiful to pass up. Not only was a new cover refreshing, but its cool look despite being bad photoshop suited the theme of an unprofessional title and cover. (No insult EpicKiller11, the cover is great)


    The thing about RRL is that blatant unprofessionalism can draw in people and even a stick figure cover can draw in massive amounts of curious viewers.If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    However, once we get into the territory of publishing, unprofessional becomes a massive buzzkill. On RRL, people can read whatever they want for free and more likely to try something that looks low quality as long as it stands out. Not only that, but the fact that it''s an amateur site makes low-quality content more acceptable with a strong focus on creativity (that and regular updates). In publishing, if you buy a book you don''t like, you''ve just wasted your money and have less room for trying out new stuff.


    There is always the chance that someone will read the sample and see that things aren''t too bad. However, most will judge by the cover and title then move onto the synopsis, reviews, and sample. It''s a strict screening process because when people pay money they expect quality in return.


    Heck, I even have to worry about what I register as the author name. I doubt I can get away with Tortoise Fortis, so that leaves me with creating a new penname that sounds like a real name or using my real name. I don''t think I''d be able to use my real name. Don''t have that kind of confidence and I''m paranoid about the people around me finding out about my story. I have a trauma from showing my best friend from highschool one of my first stories without letting him know it was mine. Needless to say, it did not go well as they promptly called it shit. Can''t blame them as I''m not well known for being tactful either.


    Back to the topic at hand. I''m thinking about changing the name. I''ll be coming up with some new names in the coming days but I''m all ears, or rather eyes, for suggestions. Or if you''d like, you can insist I keep the name. It does have its own charm and I suppose I could make up for it with a really good cover.


    Progress update: I''m in contact with a possible editor and know of an artist that specializes in the style I want for the published version''s cover. I haven''t done anything with finality as I don''t think I have enough content to start this yet. Also, I''m self-publishing so when I do start the publishing process, I''ll have to dish out a few hundred dollars from my personal savings.


    TL;DR


    -Story will get published but will be different


    -This story won''t be taken down and an epub might be made


    -Will have different cover and possibly a new name


    -Comment new name suggestions if you''d like, or tell me to keep the current name


    -New name will only apply to the published version

 Year 0 Month 1 Day 2 End of the Battle [31]

    As the day had gone by, so did the war between these beings. While the fight itself stayed the same, as time slipped by, the angle at which the war was fought was slowly changing. The sun rose and with it the spears that it threw. In kind, the cloud demon''s tower went back to being a normal cloud, acting as a shield from the skies, casting all below in its shade. A weak shield that offered no protection beyond obscuring vision.


    Below this shield, the tortoise walked over to the edge of the ship and attempted to leave. The world held its breath for this battle with the wind stilled. Then rain called upon by the storm had all been conscripted for the battle above. While the lightning never struck true, always missing both the demon and the boat, only occasionally striking near and shocking the boat''s residents with a few aftershocks.


    Despite its proximity to the fight, the area around the boat was relatively calm. The eye of the storm, both at the center of the chaos and where it was at its weakest. With its captors occupied, the tortoise was given the perfect opportunity to escape.


    The sides of the ship were still too high to scale normally. However, a nearby box in the luggage section made for a good stepping stone. A few attempts were blocked by the tortoise''s hard belly and lack of flexibility, but it managed to get over this obstacle and off the ship. Fall off the ship that is. The ship was not level with the ground below so leaving the ship implied a short fall of about a meter.


    By luck, the tortoise managed to land heads up after flipping once like a coin. For a few seconds, it sat there, disoriented and confused. Now that it was off the ship, where would it go. Of course, it would head away from the conflict, but in which direction?


    Using the boat as a point of reference, it could backtrack and head back towards the oasis. Or it could go towards the front, straight into the heat of the fight and get burned by ice and lightning. Finally, it could just head off in a random direction from the side of the ship, which it did. The side that it fell from as it didn''t feel like going through the effort to go around the boat which would require going around the front due to the gouges in the back.


    Not even a few steps were taken that a stray piece of hail fell before it and shattered. A new direction was set, this time diagonal to the boat, backtracking while still going off into the unknown. The hail spooked the tortoise and it decided not to go straight out to the side. Yet, the idea of going back to the dead oasis no longer held any appeal in its eyes.The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    A few meters out, a lightning bolt struck the land and shocked the tortoise. Again, the direction shifted, this time the other diagonal, skirting the edge of the battle to get to the places past it. At least, until another block came in the form of two large chunks of ice and a lightning bolt falling from the sky.


    Coincidences that aligned with the tortoise''s chosen direction, herding it towards a certain way. Back to the oasis where everything started and ties into. Off it went along the trenches left by the boat leaving a clear path to follow but not one to enter unless one wanted to be restricted. The beings beyond seemed to want the tortoise to pick this path even when occupied with their own fight and the tortoise obliged. No more blocks came and the walls of sand no longer stood with the wind absent.


    Around half an hour later, the tortoise had left the proximity of the storm and created some distance. There, it had the leisure to look back to see this play take center stage with it in the front row. The lights turned on and the curtains unfolded. In reality, noon came and the being in the sun let out a flash of light that covered the sky and dispersed the clouds.


    No longer could the cloud demon hide. Not that it was ever a cloud demon but a creature that controlled the clouds. Its true form was revealed for all to see. A vulture. One that looked no different from a normal one yet it could control the weather. It looked even weaker than the one the fox took out but was inconceivably strong.


    With the sudden disappearance of the clouds and pause to the fight, the humans on the ship took action. Not by escaping the madness, perpetuating it instead. A fight between the two remaining humans meaninglessly. The beings that could be called gods and demons were ignored.


    The fight began anew as another spear of lightning flew past the vulture. It managed to dodge by a feather''s breathe. Curving somewhat before it hit the ground, the spear seemed to have been influenced by the vulture''s power rather than pure dodging ability. In return, the vulture spread its wings and let a few of its feathers fall, freeze, and then get shot out as ice spikes. Like the vulture, the sun being dodged to the side while the sun itself did not.


    The temporary misalignment of the sun and being proved that they were not one in the same. Perhaps it was not even a god but something closer to a demon or one of those elemental creatures the tortoise had found within a cactus. A false god posing in front of the sun, using the latter''s influence to reach new heights.


    Once it had repositioned itself, the vulture was gone. Using the wind to fly many times faster than a normal vulture, it had fled. Without the clouds, it had lost its advantage and felt no shame in leaving. And like that, the battle was over, to be continued later. The being threw a few spears at the fleeing vulture. None of which hit or even came close.

 Year 0 Month 1 Day 2 Aftermath [32]

    The vulture disappeared over the horizon, to be seen again in the distant future. The being that pretended to be one with the sun did not give chase. Retaining its act was more important as it synchronized with the sun''s path like it was on rails. A play with no visible plot with everyone as the audience, assuming it followed the sun around the entire world.


    One that the tortoise could not see until it became a demon. Or could it, simply choosing to ignore it or accept it as the norm. It''s not like it could stop being a demon for a few seconds to check. For now, it was something that could be called the usual. What was once unfathomable became common sense.


    The tortoise resumed its long walk to the oasis. The pressure to head in this direction was lifted but no reason to change the route came about. It had a one track mind that was focused on keeping a half a meters distance from the trench so as to not fall in again. If that happened, the tortoise would lose the opportunity to change direction if need be. An option that it didn''t take but the pretense of choice was comforting nonetheless.


    Meanwhile, the sole surviving human busied themselves with pushing dead weight overboard and assessing the damage to the ship. Dead weight being the other two humans now deceased. Left in the desert sands with naught to remember them by. Cruelly returned to nature just like that. It was also efficient, to the point that it had the boat back up and running within a few minutes. Like that it drove off in the opposite direction.


    Blazing a new trail off into the unknown that the tortoise wanted nothing to do with now that it was free. Try as it might, the tortoise would eventually reunite with humans and their mechanisms. Perhaps years later after scouring and ravaging across these wastes. Or even a few days as there were two other boats full of humans that had gone ahead when he first met them.


    This question of when was resolved by a low rumble accompanied by a sea of dust. The boat was back, driving ahead only to turn around. Why make a new path when one could just retrace their steps. Realizing this, the tortoise fled away from the trenches and was assisted by the resulting sand screen. By the time the boat stopped beside the tortoise''s position, it had managed to create some distance or at least the illusion as such.


    The human hopped out of the boat and caught up to it with just a few steps. There was a fundamental difference in their pace. Giving up on fleeing, the tortoise faced the human, ready to strike at a moment''s notice. However, no attacks came from either side yet the standoff resolved itself.


    The human was once completely covered in white cloth, obscuring their features. Now, splotches of red and tears adorned the fabric. Most noticeably, their face was revealed. Dark skin, male, and strikingly red eyes. The red within their eyes belied what they were.


    Man and tortoise united under a common front of being demons. A temporary alliance was formed. Two small demons versus the rest of the world. With that out of the way, the tortoise willingly let itself be lifted back into the boat. The humanoid demon struggled a bit with this as there weren''t any other humans to help, but by balancing the tortoise on its knee, it finally managed to drag it aboard.


    You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.


    There the humanoid opened one of the boxes in the back and threw its contents off the ship, a bag full of locusts. They were still surviving even in captivity and close quarters via cannibalism. Then the tortoise was placed into the now empty box, or rather, on top of it. It couldn''t fit as the box was too small. Instead of testing a larger box, the humanoid gave up and restarted the ship.


    A few hours later, the ship was back at the oasis and the sun was starting to set. It was hard to imagine everything that happened in just this one day. The boat allowed vast distances to be covered within a short period of time. Which begs the question of how it can do this.


    There was no water for the boat to travel in and the soft topsoil only extended a few centimeters. It needed something powerful to propel it and not wind as that''s too unreliable. Some sort of engine hidden beneath the surface and a device for pushing it forwards. The ship''s design itself was very aerodynamic with the front of the ship cutting through both air and ground while the curves redirect the split elements.


    The boat rejoined its place on the original path made up of three trenches and headed towards its original destination. An ominous smile graced the humanoid demon''s face as it steered the boat. The dark color of his skin having nothing to do with its identity as a demon. Rather, it was a protection against the sun''s rays, complimented by white clothing to counteract the ease of darker colors absorbing heat from the sun. An adaptation that both helped and harmed him within his natural environment made up for with intelligence.


    At one point, one of the three paths, separate from the one they were on, diverged a bit and went through another oasis, one slightly smaller than the one the tortoise lived at. One common thing between the two was that they were barren. Like the other oasis, it had been cleared by locusts who were then collected by humans. Insects could serve as an invaluable source of protein in a desert.


    The humans came with the intention of harvesting these locusts like they harvested everything in sight. Judging by the well made boat paths smoothed by frequent use, locust infestations weren''t too uncommon. There was even the possibility that the outbreaks were orchestrated by them. After all, there weren''t many things of value to humans in an oasis other than water. Locusts could turn something useless into a viable resource that could be exploited again and again as the land recovers.


    The boat continued onwards and deep in the night the path curved to the side, the opposite end doing the same in the other direction. The central path went through a third oasis while the other paths went around. The situation with this one was the same as the others but bigger. Almost twice the size of the first oasis while being just as devoid of life. No, a few stray locusts hopped about, having avoided capture. In a way the two demons were like these locusts, seeking to destroy everything while everything else tried to kill them, only getting by because they were insignificant and there were more than a boatful of other demons to catch.

 Year 0 Month 1 Day 3 [33]

    The waning moon hung low in the sky as darkness slowly consumed it more and more. Every night, the moon would become darker and darker as a shadow was cast upon it until it was completely gone. Then the reverse would happen, brightening until it was full of light once again. An endless cycle that lasted just under a month. Ironically the basis a month was founded upon, yet shorter than an actual month.


    The night seemed to stretch on endlessly and the moon''s position remained fixed no matter how fast the boat went. The scenery went by in a blur as if time had sped up dramatically but time ticked by as per the usual. It could not escape the confines of time. Not that these confines were natural.


    To the tortoise, it did not matter if the night ended or went on longer by a few seconds. The only thing that mattered was that the sky was dark and the moon was out instead of the sun. And there was the fact that the moon was starting to set so it was a new day. An in-between of last night and this morning.


    These were mental barriers that things bounded themselves to out of convenience. At this speed, it felt like time was going by faster therefore it was. At one point, to a creature as long lived as a tortoise, days and nights will pass with as much of a care as these passing seconds. A timespan of such brevity that it would not care if it was wasted.


    A few more trails lined up in the sands beside the ones they were following. The humanoid demon kicked a piece of metal at the base of the steering mechanism, locking it in place before standing at the bow of the ship. It was just a stick jutting out of the floor that when pushed in a certain direction made the boat steer to the inversion. A simple mechanism to offset the complex machinery below that could be mistaken for magic. Unlike magic, there was a distinct logic behind how it could move, but not why.


    The tortoise kept to the stern of the ship, unmoving. There was no reason to move now that it teamed up with this demon that handled everything. Guided by the boat to a destination, not of its choosing. A sense of reliance that was more of over-dependence. Not that the tortoise has ever gone somewhere out of its volition since it was born.


    Another set of paths lined up, doubling the amount and scarring the earth. They were all heading in the same direction, congregating in one spot. The place where all paths ended and began, a central hub. Already visible in the distance.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.


    As clear as day did the settlement stand. It was completely lit up and glowed in the surrounding darkness. The center of the town standing out the most as if it was a bonfire with scattered embers. Ablaze the town was in both light and activity; boats similar to the one they stood upon entered and exited and the lights inside fluctuated.


    Some of these boats headed directly towards theirs, a welcoming party bearing weapons and suspicion. A necessary measure considering how suspicious the boat was; damaged by the battle and manned by only one who was no longer a man. In response, the humanoid demon removed the lock from the steering rod and pushed it forward, slowing things down to a halt.


    Two boats lined up beside theirs while the rest headed outwards to who knows where. After the resulting dust storm, a conversation began. One that the tortoise did not partake in for it could not speak nor could it understand the contents of what was being spoken. The humanoid demon, however, maintained their knowledge from before they became a demon. After a few minutes, the demon had explained that the damage was from a storm and that his two friends had passed away from the damage.


    Apparently, this wasn''t the first time this happened as the explanation was accepted. Even then, one of them boarded the boat and looked around. The destroyed boxes, bags full of locusts, and damages to the deck attested to their story. The only outlier was the tortoise that started walking towards the boarder to attack them. Unfortunately, they walked away and their pace was far longer than the tortoise''s. As for the tortoise''s presence, it was passed off as something picked up at random along the path and was to be sold inside the settlement.


    With the end of the conversation, the boarder hopped back onto their boat and the two boats left, going off into the desert wastes. Turning around or going towards the storm to investigate, the demons would never find out. Not that they cared in the first place as the boat resumed its path to the heart of town before them. Or rather, the outskirts as boats weren''t allowed within and ten meter high walls attested to this.


    A sandport lied just ahead, a grid of interlocking trenches and well-maintained stone walkways. An endless sea of shifting sands and the vessels that shifted them. Within a few moments, the humanoid steered the boat up next to one of the stone paths and hopped out. Within a few minutes, the tortoise dragged itself to the side of the boat and dragged itself over to the path. While it could have gone ahead and left the tortoise to the elements, the humanoid decided to patiently wait for the tortoise to tag along.


    The sands on either side of the path were so unsettled that a casual step could sink a person several meters deep and only the path they stood on kept them from a slow and painful doom. The boat was left behind without a care in the world. It was not tied to the walkway. None of the luggage was taken out or sorted. No effort was delegated towards repairing this boat or keeping it. Left out to dry in the morning sun and easy pickings for a thief.

 Year 0 Month 1 Day 3 [34]

    The stone walkway they happened to choose was a straight shot to the town''s walls with a few branches. On these branches, there were a few boats tied up. Humans gathered in these areas doing all sorts of things. Loading and unloading, untying the boat to set out, playing games to pass the time, hanging off the side of the path dangerously close to the sinking sands, and of course sleeping. Most kept their clothes nice and tidy to stave off the sun''s powerful rays, but a few were less restrained, going around with open faces or tops.


    One thing they had in common was that the boat was their whole world. Their job, their livelihood, and their home all in one. As such, they were fiercely protective and kept a close eye on the passing demons. Blatant hostility seeped through their clothing and projected towards them until the two of them passed the respective branches that the boats were moored at. The branches themselves were small and seemingly fragile, barely wide enough for a person to walk upon and many a life had been claimed by carelessness.


    Like the fragile branches, these peoples'' lives relied upon the boats. All it took was one mistake and they would fall and never come back up. While the main path that brought the two demons to the town was almost a meter wide, long enough for people to walk side by side and recover if one slipped. At the end of this path was a staircase to the top of the walls. More people showed up from the top of the staircase coming down to find their respective vessel. Turns out that it was a rarity for ships to come back at this time and that it was launch time for most.


    Even more of a rarity was the tortoise that was wide enough to take up half of the path, forcing the newcomers to go around. Curiosity was weak within these people desperate to jumpstart their day and make their living, instead they felt pure annoyance at this obstacle. They hopped and skid around the tortoise and the tortoise itself tried to snap at a few. Used to facing "pushy" people occasionally on these walkways, they easily dodged these bite attempts before going on their way. One of them even put in the extra effort to slap the tortoise upside the head much to its chagrin.


    To make things worse was the stairs. It was slow on even ground, slower on an incline, and slowest on terrain that interfered with its ability to climb. Stairs forced it to lift its entire body a decameter higher and struggle to gain a proper footing. All with the risk of sliding back down if its shell rested upon the edges of the steps. Meanwhile, the humanoid demon easily scaled the steps and disappeared into the town rather than wait once again for the tortoise to finish.Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.


    Every step brought it forward a bit while others went by in the other direction, confused and angry with this space hogger. It learned its lesson and gave up on biting the passer-bys, knowing it''d get a chance to do more than just bite them later. Once, twice, and then thrice it slid back down after losing its balance on a step. The second time it fell all the way to the bottom and almost fell off the path. While on the third time, one of the passing humans tried to pick it up but found it to be too heavy to lift past a few centimeters and dropped it, but that was enough to make it fall a few steps and lose its progress.


    On the fourth try, it finally made it to the top only to discover it wasn''t a wall but a floor. The entire town was built upon a foundation meters above everything else. The ground was scaldingly hot despite it only being morning. While open flames seemed to dot the landscape, hanging from various buildings. One would think that a town in the desert would avoid heat rather than embrace it. However, this one broke all the rules.


    The humanoid demon reappeared shortly, dragging some sort of wagon behind it, having not abandoned the tortoise. Fact was, the tortoise was painfully slow by itself and required some sort of device to get anywhere in a timely manner. Without complaint, it stepped onto the wagon and let it be taken through this town of flames. The wagon itself was a slab of metal on four wheels with a long handle to drag it. A few other wagons could be seen as they went through town, mostly being used to transport boxes and bags.


    Like moths attracted to flames, humans gathered everywhere in the town and congested things. So much so that the wagon felt unnecessary at this speed. The tortoise had no intention of getting off and instead used this free time to observe its surroundings. People, people, and more people endlessly walking back and forth. None of them stopping for anything yet the crowd still moved so slowly.


    Occasionally, the crowd would clear up enough for a gap to show the other side. Alleyways with even more people between the buildings yet more stationary. Although they didn''t move much they were far more interesting. One or two of them with each glance would have a slight tint to their eyes, glazed over from hopelessness or possessed by demonic influences. At one point, the tortoise witnessed someone from the crowd get grabbed and dragged deep within the alleyways without resistance. A common sight that no one even tried to stop.


    When a town thrived with so much life, the value of such drops. Every day, a human would die while a dozen took the dead ones'' place. Tolerant of crime and death while lacking strong morals, a town where sin was the norm. For demons like them, this place was paradise, an ideal hometown.

 Year 0 Month 1 Day 3 [35]

    Just as things seemed like they were going to open up, the street was constipated again. This time by stalls rather than people. Streets that could accommodate two dozen people were divided as small, temporary buildings monopolized both the sides and center of the street while hawking goods. Suddenly, a group of three would find things cramped with hands coming from all directions trying to pull them in.


    The humanoid demon was no exception as the merchants juggled him around, trying to buy his shoes from his feet while selling him every luxury that could be imagined. Their wares being far from luxuries, mainly food made from foods and insects and miscellaneous devices. Promising the heavens while giving away the earth.


    That was the way of the merchant. It was also the reason why people used them. They could buy and sell pretty much anything for any reason. Not even the prospect of doing business with a demon could make them balk.


    Of course, with offers to even his shoes, there were offers about the tortoise, ignored ones but still. Either the prices offered weren''t high enough or he was unwilling to sell his comrade. More likely the former as the tortoise was not an equal but a dependent. Like a child yet to find its way or a servant destined to never have its own way.


    Just as quickly as the markets came, they dissipated and the streets congested once again. The way the town was set up could be described as bizarre. Not even ten steps out of the market and the street split into two forking paths. As in the paths split into two that further split into another two. With how thick the crowd was, it would have been hard to tell where they were going without the buildings serving as landmarks. Then again, they were more like rocks jutting out of the water in river rapids as the crowd dragged them ever deeper.


    While the town was a virtual labyrinth, the humanoid demon expertly guided both itself and the wagon carrying the tortoise through it, zigzagging through streets and alleyways. Ahead, a plume of smoke began to rise from the center of the town. Accompanying this smoke, the flames adorning the buildings swayed and flickered as if a strong wind was dancing with it. The clothes of the people around them stayed stagnant and not even a breeze to relieve the ever increasing climate was present.


    At one point when the humanoid demon was taking a shortcut through an alley, they came across a man lying on the ground. No mask was present upon their face to hide what was missing. Their eyes for they were blind. Completely ripped out of their sockets with the open eyelids exposing naught but blood, muscles, and scabs. Yet, their non-existent eyes followed them, their head turned to match their movement through hearing or some sort of sixth sense.This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    It lifted its hand and pointed its finger at the two of them and said something. That something was a very simple word with very big implications. The crowds that lined each side of the alley stopped their daily grind and paused to look in. Dozens of eyes screened the area with extreme prejudice. T''was not to be as their eyes landed upon who spoke and lost interest. The silence was broken as the crowds resumed their forced march. Out of desperation, the eyeless human said it again and again, louder each time. No one paid him any mind but the occasional curious glance.


    Who would trust a blind man? Especially one sprouting such an accusation. That something they were saying was the word "demon" as they had seen through their identity somehow. Nonetheless, no one believed them and each time the word was said, it held less impact. If only they had pointed at the humanoid demon might their claims gain traction. Instead, a finger was pointed towards an ordinary tortoise with the full weight of the word "demon." Yet all weight behind the word rolled off its shell.


    They could silence the blind human here to prevent such an occasion from happening again or they could leave it to its fate. A fate of obscurity and mistrust. That is what they did, leaving it to its own devices as it continually chanted demon, refusing to give up even though everyone around them had long stopped listening.


    The pyre of smoke grew thicker and closer as they navigated more streets and alleyways. More smoke climbed into the air from the previously smokeless lanterns that lined the streets. It was late morning but was starting to feel more like evening with all the smoke interfering with the light. It was magical how much of an effect an overcast day had on the perspective of time.


    Heat transmitted from the ground to the wagon, making it feel more like an oven than a method of transportation. Relief from the heat was rare in this area and people started to clear up solely due to that. Not all, as the crowd kept to a medium size, many of which were going in the same direction as the two demons, the source of the smoke in the center of town. If the tortoise wasn''t a demon, it wouldn''t be feeling too well done at this point.


    Soon enough, they reached the area with the cloud, a large, open plaza centered around a pit in the ground and some galleys. A distinct red glow radiated out from the pit and shined upon the people tied up on the galley. Divided into two parts, each with the label of a word they''d never get rid of for the rest of their lives. Between the two was a man not tied down with any mortal coils, wearing a flamboyant outfit.

 Temporary Hiatus and Editing

    I suddenly went on hiatus for like 20 days last time and this time it''s been 5 days without an update so I thought I''d give a heads up. Right now, I''m going through the early sections of the story and editing them. I''m a little reluctant to write new content until I get back to those points in the story with my editing. Focusing on two things at the same time is my weak point. I''ll try to finish the next chapter up tomorrow but after that who knows when the next update will be. Even me saying I''ll finish the next chapter tomorrow can''t be taken at face value.


    Now onto a better topic, the nature of the edits.


    First off, tenses. My tenses are all over the place. It''s supposed to be a past tense story but I''ve let way too many presenttenseverbs slip by. Even a few future tense verbs can be found within the philosophical BS.


    Second, filler words. I''ve been inflating sentences with redundancies and extra content that can easily be cut to fill the wordcount. Cheating on my own goal to hit around 1000 words per chapter.


    Third, research and accuracy. I''ve been sorta writing whatever with minimal research. I''ve sorta only been researching to find cool stuff to write about and never went in depth, leading to some embarrassing writing. For example, I assumed baby tortoises were about the size of my hand because of some movie I watched with turtles heading to the sea after hatching. Turns out that baby tortoises are like half the size of my palm, so I need to rewrite a few parts of chapter one.This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it


    Fourth, formatting and font. Formatting is straightforward and easy. Put into a program with formatting tools like Word and adjust a few options like margins, indents, page numbers, and chapter markers so I''m saving it for last. Fonts are simply a matter of trying things out and preference. So far, I''m liking the looks of Times New Roman, Caslon, and Janson. Meanwhile, I find Garamond to be terrible in an online format while Palatino and Minion have letter designs that irk me. Let me know a few fonts you like so I can try them out, preferably seriffonts.


    Fifth, story direction. The main reason I''m finding it hard to write the next chapter because I''m considering changing the story''s general plot, essentially making some of the chapters I''ve written non-canon. It''s gotten to the point where I''ve considered cutting out the demon element of the story. It was only forced in to keep the story from going stale from repetitivenessand because of the story''s title. If I do end up drastically changing the story direction, I''d probably keep writing this as somewhat of a draft since it sorta is a draft anyway. Or by making them two completely different stories and using this one as a place to test out new ideas.


    TL;DR I''m confused and need some time to think while editing the early chapters.

 Year 0 Month 1 Day 3 [36]

    A suit made of interlocking chains of gold with an inlay of feathers, A helm carved from the skull of a beast, and a face filled with confidence laced with cruelty. Makeup across the cheeks and diagonal on the brows made him look like he was smiling and angry at the same town. A clown whose hands held the lives of everyone on the galley with him.


    The crowd no longer moved and attentively watched as this was a rare time of entertainment. Though, the content was anything but funny. On one side were those accused of being demons while the other had those who had committed crimes. "Criminal" and "Demon" hung over their respective groups and now was the time for their punishment, whether guilty or innocent.


    Out of the demons, of which there was a dozen, only one held the red eyes that betrayed their identity as a true demon while the rest were pure humans. One can only imagine the accuracy of the criminals having actually sinned with statistics like this. In fact, with a distinguishing feature, it was surprising more demons weren''t caught. Only the blind man from before could see properly in this mad town.


    One by one, they were pushed into the pit in the center of the plaza, which flared up with every sacrifice. Within the pit was something of unimaginable heat. Just the offset from this was enough to make the area sweltering, possibly the reason why this town was so hot in comparison to the rest of the lands. In the middle of the desert, these people embraced even greater heat than what would cause unlivable conditions.Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.


    For what reason? As the last demon was pushed in, the plume of smoke took on a darker hue and the sound of metal hitting upon itself could be heard. Two chains attached to the execution stand dropped down into the depths of what seemed like hell itself. The man dressed as in a clownish way lifted up his arms and let out a roar, seeming more like a demon than the one he had just pushed down.


    More were pushed down, this time from the side of the criminals. With every one pushed in, the temperature rose by a few degrees. The crowd stood rooted to the ground as if the heat did nothing to them. One would expect a few to faint from the heat or leave. Instead, they mutely watched the ongoing events like mannequins.


    The man on stage slowed down, savoring each push and making more of a show with each push. Things were heating up in more ways than one. Like a reflection of the crowd, the so-called criminals remained rooted in a seated position right on the edge of the abyss. To them, their fate was inevitable and they long lost the spirit to fight back. Even if they regained freedom, they would be dead men walking. Virtually broken and executed before in mind, here was just a drama to show off.


    A crowd so mum about things that they felt more like background characters than the audience. A man onstage who was both the entertainer and entertained.


    Meanwhile, the humanoid demon was smiling as he enjoyed the show, not even flinching when the real demon was pushed down, perhaps smiling a bit more at that moment. Unluckily, the tortoise''s head level was too low and couldn''t see anything over the crowd. It only felt the eerie silence from the surroundings and the ever increasing temperature. A demon it was, but even it got uncomfortable and wished to move away. Its only consolation was that all the smoke filled the skies and covered up the sun so it would not have to take cover when noon came.

 Summaries and Explanations [END]

    Well, it''s been about two weeks without updates and I feel no motivation to continue writing. It''s not entirely due


    Summaries(chapters 37+):


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    Chapter 37-40


    -The demon pushed off the edge climbs up one of the chains while on fire, creating a large ruckus until being kicked back down by the guy on stage. This is part of the show for the people, to reinforce the thought that these people who truly demons and criminals.


    -A boat is dragged up by the chains from the pit. The people were sacrificed to the pit and the pit rewarded them with an essential part of their livelihood. After this, temperatures start to go back down and some people go onstage to grab the boat and bring it off somewhere else.


    -When the boat is unloaded from the chains, the onstage guy gets a light cut on his hand but the entire city shakes a bit when this happens.


    Side note: At this point, I might''ve gone back to edit 35 and 36 to make it so some of the criminals onstage are missing eyes or have it so some just have their eyes removed rather than pushed off. The point of this is to demonstrate that blindness correlates to someone who does crime in the city.


    -Further traveling, find more demons hiding in plain sight and a lot more blind and disabled people on every corner. Some of the demons tag along with them as they head towards some sort of back alley.


    -Merchant in the alley selling weapons with an assistant. He passes the weapons to the demons but seems to realize what they are, frowning with each weapon sale while the assistant is happy about all the profit.


    -Payment for the weapons is a mix of coins, goods, and the tortoise... Yeah, so much for camaraderie. Demons run off heavily armed to cause trouble in the city while the merchant immediately leaves the city. They take the tortoise with them, dragging it off to a distant land.


    -As they travel into the distance, the merchant suddenly grabs the assistant and tells him to not look back. The entire city explodes in a volcanic eruption, struck down in an instant while a wave of heat and dust went outward.


    -The merchant lifts up a heavy blanket, knowing this would happen to cover himself and the assistant.


    -Assistant doesn''t listen and looks back around the blanket to see the city fall and his body gets struck directly by extreme heat and dust, tearing his upper half to shreds.


    -Merchant gets skimmed on the side of the face from looking to the side out of shock. Loses an eye and gets a few burns and scars on that side of the face.


    Onward:


    -a few days later the merchant notices the tortoise is also a demon from its rapid growth and lack of desire to eat or drink anything offered to it. So, it''s kicked off and into the wild, but in a distinctively more temperate and green area.


    -The tortoise grows bigger and travels. Maybe a time skip or maybe I come up with some filler content that stretches out into a new arc introducing stuff.


    -Eventually, the tortoise gets so big that people can get on its back. And people do so. Namely, a group of bandits.


    -As the tortoise grew, so did the bandits. The tortoise would seek out human settlements to attack and the bandits pillaged everything in sight. A win winrelationship.


    -More years pass and the tortoise gets excessively big. Bandits become less bandity and raise families, becoming more like nomads with a very portable home.


    -One day the tortoise will find a river. One small enough that it could pass it with a single step but it doesn''t, choosing to walk alongside it instead.


    -The river leads to the ocean, a dead end on the journey and an end to the story as there isn''t much of a point continuing the story as it would just stretch on endlessly.


    -Perhaps at one point on the river traversing, the tortoise would get annoyed with the human settlement on its back, from weight or some of the humans drilling through its shell and eating its flesh like parasites. Then it would do a roll and crush the city and everything on its back, leaving no survivors.


    -END


    Explanations about the text:


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    Original concept: A tortoise so big that a city could be built upon its back. Not the most original story concept but one that got stuck in my head for a few days.


    My thought process before starting the story went like the following.


    The relationship between the city and tortoise: Tortoise dislikes the city and finds it pesky and a weight on its back. Due to this, it''ll try to destroy settlements of humans it finds while walking around so it might be seen as an evil entity by most humans. While the humans on its back rely on it and are probably not the most scrupulous either, likely attacking those that attack the tortoise even if they''re doing it out of self defense.A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    Why is the tortoise so big: We could either have the story take place in a span of thousands of years and have it grow at a natural pace but just not stop growing but still survive somehow. Or make it magical or demonic. Demonic being more fitting since it''ll be seen as evil anyways.


    How to start the story: I could''ve skipped right into the heat of the moment with a big tortoise with a group of humans living on its back due to its sheer size. Instead, I chose to start from the very beginning. It just doesn''t feel right to me to start a story in its middle even if I''ve only thought about and conceptualized the middle. Add that onto the fact that I need something to look forward to while writing for motivation or I have a harder time writing.


    Finally, I started the story without much research. I was in the heat of inspiration and came up with ideas constantly drawing from my subconscious and half-truths which resulted in a not so accurate story that was fun to write and almost documentary-like. However, a lot of it was wrong or made up. I never decided on the kind of tortoise or setting and used that as an excuse to avoid doing proper research.


    Then it started to drag on. My solution to this was the tortoise becoming a demon. It wasn''t supposed to happen until later on, but things were getting boring even for me the writer. I was going to make the tortoise suffer a bunch of hardship and then become a demon from that. However, it was executed somewhat badly and I forced in an introduction to a demon.


    The Demon. This original demon was going to be one that controlled wind and storms, almost godlike. It was going to be humanoid and the tortoise was unable to see it clearly at the original meeting. Then a commenter mentioned something about a storm demon and I leaned more towards the storm itself is the demon with no organic element to it. Later, I had the vulture that was taken out by a mere fox after being a demon and decided to make the storm demon another vulture. This was to show a power gap between an old demon and a new one. They hold the same origins but one is further down the path than the other.


    The events in the Oasis. They''re loosely based on the ten plagues of Egypt. I struggled on how to adapt some of the plagues and ended up skipping out on a few. The point was that these events were to drive the tortoise out of the oasis. It was a bit of irony as it was driving the tortoise away from its promised land towards hardship and misery. No offense intended towards any religions, of course, just borrowing some of the setting with my own twists.


    Later on, in the city that the latest chapter takes place in, I was putting in some parts borrowed from Sodom. I''ll mention that in more detail in the summaries though.


    Demons and magic in this story in general. We start the story with stuff being seemingly exaggerated and dramatic but then taking a turn for the literal. We have things like water sapping the tortoise''s strength pre demon then taking the shape of a spirit literally assaulting the tortoise post demon.


    The celestial bodies are treated like beings rather than far-off planets and stars, reinforced by this sun god thingy sending out flashes of demon burning holy light at noon, then disproved by it being displaced from the sun when it dodged. It''s something close to what a demon is but follows the sun and pretends to be the sun.


    Then there''s a bunch of BS about paths and defying one''s path. Just philosophical BS I found fitting. Given enough time and writing, I might''ve come up with some sort of logical system. It started as chaos and will remain as such.


    I don''t know where I was going with a lot of these themes. I was writing them because I felt like they fit and I like to wing things as I write.


    Explanations about the writing itself:


    <b>Spoiler</b> : <input type=''button'' value=''Show'' class=''spoilerButton''>


    I''ll be blunt. I started writing this story with the intention of publishing but that sentiment is getting weaker and weaker.


    This account is an alt account. The name is basically Strong Tortoise or Fortress Tortoise. I made it for writing this story. Why? I keep writing stories and then dropping them midway. It''s embarrassing and now I''m doing it again. At this point, dropping is a relief as there are other things I want to focus on.


    A few months ago, I really wanted to publish a story. I started with concepts of well-planned serious stories. I kept losing motivation to write and I''m more used to unplanned winging it kind of stories, but those aren''t too "professional." If I wanted to, I could slap this on Amazon, maybe make a few sales. However, I''d feel pretty scummy for doing so. This isn''t publishing quality. The story is jumbled, there are factual inconsistencies, and it hasn''t been edited properly. Trying to publish it would be failing myself far more than dropping it as I''d just be giving up in a greedy way rather than this self-depreciating way.


    I don''t think I''m cut out for professional writing. I''m going to take a break from writing for a bit then try my hand at a new work. Or maybe come back to this and edit it to be more factually correct and more suitable for publishing.


    Thank you to all of you who read, commented, reviewed and whatever on my story while it lasted. Doubly so to people like Epickiller11 who got me a new cover, Mr. Bubbles for populating the comment section with dank memes and tomfoolery, Kezdet for turtle emotes.