Ep. 3 of the Elementals: The Clown of Chaos

Somewhere, elsewhere, neither here nor there… we are down a cobblestone path just outside the grounds of the fantastical Elemental Castle. We are close enough to still feel regal elegance, but far enough from authoritative scrutiny. Here we find the youngest element in a clearing with a less-than attractive looking pond. Perhaps was once a noble, glistening addition to the Elemental jurisdiction… is now Fire’s rough draft of creations.

Fire sits cross-legged, back straight, head high with his eyes closed. Hairless with caramel skin, he is still only dressed in leather pants. Freshly cauterized scars ensnare his wrists and fingertips. With a deep breath, he extends a steady hand methodically in front of him. Then swiftly turns his palm to the sky, exhaling hotly.

FIRE: Hhhhhh-ah! Go!

In a shallow portion of the pond, bubbles erupt with swirling steam which condense into a thick smoke. Any creatures of amphibian nature who dared to attempt to witness Fire’s experiment had by now fled the scene. White billowing clouds break the tree line and float into the atmosphere above — birds take flight in fear. Fire focuses his gaze to the water. Just under the surface, a murky substance adorned with streaks of orange-red churns and grows.

Fire flexes his fingers as he molds the magma remotely. By the charred skin of his palm, it’s easy to assume that this was not his first attempt.

FIRE: C’mon c’mon c’mon…

Just as the blazing hot substance was breaking the surface to cool into a solid form, the dense smoke spins into an intricate spiral then disperses in a light blue flash. It breaks Fire’s concentration, losing the heat of the magma. He angrily looks to the intruder. Emerging from the center of the smoke is Wind — still adorned in her pale iridescent chiffon gowns. She descends gracefully, yet defiantly next to Fire. Her windchime earrings ring out as if announcing her presence.

WIND: What are you doing?! Are you okay?? I saw smoke from the tower, and I thought —

Fire throws himself back and lies on the ashen ground, defeated.

FIRE (heavy sigh): …I’m making islands… was.

Wind surveys the scene around her. She now sees the evidence of the multitude of attempts Fire had made to recreate one of the planet’s natural phenomena. In order to mask her mistake, she shifts her mood from active concern to snide judgement.

WIND: Well! Why didn’t you ask Earth for help?

Fire narrowed his eyes at this sudden sisterly tone. He had intended on figuring it out himself. Although truthfully, he had not thought of Wind’s suggestion. He was too focused on combating Water than thinking of Earth. Fire, now contemplative, reaches for a self-rolled cigarette tucked behind his ear. It lights immediately as it touches his lips. Wind is still unable to let go of her adrenaline, looking for anything to fight Fire with.

WIND: I still can’t believe you picked up that human habit. Just re- / member not to litter —

FIRE (mockingly, simultaneously): / remember not to litter, yeah yeah. Thank you, sister.

Fire folds his arms behind his head and stares up at the sun-setting sky. He continues to smoke, and lets the ashes and tiny embers sprinkle his nose and cheek. They burn into his skin, leaving small tarnish spots like freckles. Wind finally relaxes, recognizing there was no need for her heightened demeanor. She sits next to her brother. And as if silently saying sorry, she cranes her head to the side and playfully makes geometric shapes with the cigarette smoke. Fire recognizes her mute apology and looks up to her.

FIRE: Bored?

WIND: Terribly.

FIRE: Doesn’t mean you have to monitor my ass.

WIND: I know. But it’s not like anyone else is doing anything fun.

FIRE: Go stalk the humans. They’re fun.

WIND: They’re dangerous. And I don’t wanna stalk the humans.

FIRE: Why not?

WIND: I just don’t want to.

FIRE: ‘Kay. Hang out. Whatever.

WIND: I wish… I don’t know…

Fire waits for Wind to find her words. He is almost sure they have parallel thinking and assumes what she’s going to say.

WIND: I want purpose.

FIRE (smiles): Mmhm. Well, sister. Waiting for purpose can be tricky. Forcing purpose is trickier. Be careful what you wish for.

Wind opens her mouth about to ridicule her brother’s sudden fortune cookie sounding advice, but is instantly knocked down by an unseen force. She screams in utmost pain and grabs her head.

WIND: AGHHH! OF ALL THINGS GODLY — FIRE, WHAT DID YOU DO?!

FIRE: Sister! I — will you stop blaming me for shit!? I’m not doing this!

WIND: Agghh! What — what is — what’s happening to me — !

Wind pulls herself into a fetal position. She presses her forehead to the tops of her knees and screams. Fire stands above her attempting to assess the problem, but knows not what to do. A few seconds pass: Wind relaxes and her verbal expression of pain subsides. She slowly sits up and regains present awareness.

WIND: …that wasn’t you?

Fire says nothing but is visibly offended. He ignites a second cigarette and turns away from her.

WIND: I’m sorry I’m sorry. It just felt… hot.

Fire turns back and raises an eyebrow.

WIND: Ugh, like burning. Like from here (indicates to the top of her head) to here (indicates to her right cheek).

Fire rolls his eyes and looks back to the murky pond water.

FIRE (sighs): I was just making islands.

Fire suddenly sees a reflection of light in the water. He looks up, and Wind follows his gaze.

WIND: What is it?

FIRE: A meteor?

WIND: No… not from this world.

FIRE: Life beyond the planet?

WIND: No. Not from this universe. Or timeline.

FIRE: How can you tell?

WIND: They broke through the atmosphere. They tore through me. I — I have to go.

Wind weakly stands and casts a portal to the human’s plane. The portal takes the form of a small, self-made tornado. She steps into it, but with one final look to Fire:

WIND: Stay out of trouble.

FIRE: Don’t count on it. Good luck.

I believe I am this world’s first outside visitor. How strange. Such a tightly knit planetary system, so much growth a possibility in terms of their resources. Why, a measly red rock at such effortless grasp, and yet… whomever this colony calls themselves… seem far more entangled in their social, political entanglings and beating this blue, green source to its bare bones. She was not meant for this.

How primitive, this society.

Where… the hell… am I?

The stench… horrendous. And why the orifices so close to my vision? To my auditory system? All so close and confined in the cranium — no wonder these beings can’t think straight. But still organic material, all of it, the whole body. I feel it now that my cloaking system has fully adapted…

They have clearly lost a connection to this planet, obviously… and to each other? Hmmm.

In leaving a world of injustice, I have no business inviting myself to another one. They are poisoned here, just as the place I left. Perhaps more so. Huh. Maybe they were right. Same problems despite a different world, different universe, different timeline. Is it all hopeless? In all time, in all places, in all the worlds in creation?

Ah… I see the venom… here…!

’Tis but a portion of the chaotic drapery that encapsulates these people. A swatch in the hell they are living in. How easy it was for me to extract a tangible piece from the metaphoric civilization — it is clear, I am treading with uncharted actions in this sun-ruled system. So, is no one here to stop me? No protector? No authority? Simply chaos?

I would refrain thinking further down that path, newcomer.

Ah, speak of the devil! The blue-green planet’s champion! Wispier than I would have imagined, although, it seems you hadn’t a need to show yourself prior if I am truly the first to break down your so-called defensive system.

Defense system, not. My system, you have broken into.

I am learning, I am learning. Allow me to sponge more information. Next, who do I owe the pleasure of speaking to?

I am of many names. A fraction of four that rules the elements, somewhere between Goddess and Naturality. I am the Atmosphere of which you tore. I am the Gravity that pulls you to the planet’s crust. I am the Particles that surround your — now newly made — humanity. Most simply, pedestrianly, I am Wind. And you —

Such haste! Allow me to show respect before brandishing my identity —

If respect was in your manner, you would not have enacted such spontaneous and arbitrary action. The more time we waste, my migraine of your presence grows —

Please! Allow me to introduce mys —

I know you. A jester! A clown!

Hm, you say so with such disdain. Such behavior would be seen as rudeness where I come from.

You’re this universe’s mistake. So, perhaps your home is where you should return.

Speak less. Listen now. I am The Clown of Chaos. The highest ranking status of my timeline— sustained by a vortex spooled and woven in randomness. Equal to your large yellow star of which your system tangos.

As said before, I care not. The seconds you spend here are breaking us. We will cease to exist.

Do you know what this is?

Gorgeous and grotesque. Vibrant and venomous. It is but a slice of the Hell your humanity is wrapped in. I see… hunger. Violence. Distrust, disgust, dishonor. Rape, racism — and revenge. And the center of it all: injustice. The beings here have lost touch with Earth, with each other, with anything beyond their selfish selves. And what about you? With your power, reach, and endless possibility… it seems you don’t even watch. Why is that? Are you and the other fractions of these elemental stations… not as purposeful as you were led to believe?

…Your tone and demeanor, you are all simple tricks and tales.

Am I? I am. I am not! Haha, well. Irrelevant. But I touched something. I feel you wavering…

I… I —

I am not a destroyer. You’re hardly a protector. I think I will go, but… Maybe you need this. Take the swatch.

… Thank… you…

Find your purpose. We’ll meet again.

“Odd World” starring Nicholas Wilson.

Photographed by Adam Wesley.

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