Alice Between the Untamed: Chapter 1

Story by Keskron on SoFurry

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Following the events of Through the Looking Glass, Alice's journey back home from another two years at sea comes to an abrupt halt when she, once again, is called back to the world of Underland. Only this time, there are new rules, new faces, and most worryingly, a new curse that has descended upon the inhabitants. [Contains Alice x Hatter]


Alice Between the Untamed

Chapter 1: Red Sky Warning

The ocean breeze greeted Alice as she stepped out of her cabin and into the dawn of a new day, and all she could do to retaliate was to silently fixate on the ruby sunrise. She found herself leaning against the side rails of The Wonderland, craning her neck so as to capture both the beauty of the ocean landscape and the grandeur of the ship of which she was aboard. For many, the continuous sounds of rippling sails, croaking floorboards, and sloshing of white-capped waves underneath the ship's prowess would be a distraction; she, on the other hand, sensed the rhythm of each and found comfort in the acoustics. There were times she would even dance to the music of the journey, skipping to the rhythm of the sea drumming against the bow, the melody of the whistling wind gliding through her hair, and herself providing a humming harmony to accompany the symphony of sailing. At first, the crew of the ship laughed at her madness, but they came to realize that the girl they sniggered at - their captain - was more than a daydreaming lunatic. She was a daydreaming lunatic who could find happiness in the most nonsensical of things.

But at the moment she was dismal. She was solemn. For a long time she sat there, watching as her ship bobbed against the waves. But it wasn't long before she was greeted by a familiar voice at her side.

"The crew is growing restless, Alice." Her mother stood beside her, a worried tone sharpened her voice. "We've been lucky to have smooth sailing so far, but I must remind you of the old tale: red sky at night-"

"Sailor's delight," Alice finished her mother's cautionary rhyme, not sparing to look her in the eyes. She stared down at her once unblemished amber boots, which were now faded due to the salt of the sea.

"But it's not night, Alice. And as much as I wish it weren't true, there is reason to be concerned by the lore that these men repeat to one another." Again, Alice did not turn to look at her mother, but rather closed her eyes and circled her hands into tight fists around the ship rails. Now of all times, when they were so close to home, why would the weather suddenly turn against them? "Alice, are you listening to me? These men need to hear you-,"

"I know, mother!" Alice scoffed, glaring at her mother's now hurt expression. But she softened her voice quickly and apologized for her outburst. "I'm sorry. It's just that this trip has gone so well. And I wish... I wish it could continue. But I also miss home. It's like two forces are battling against me."

When they had set sail two years ago, Alice and her mother had disbanded from their partnership with the Ascots, and were determined to continue Charles Kingsley's legacy - as newly self-made entrepreneurs who wished to explore the world in search of trade, wonder, and adventure. And they found just that. They discovered new societies, new cultures, and an abundance of faces and treasures in the form of knowledge and new friendships. But all that was coming to a close. And it seemed as if Alice's want to both stay on the sea and return home were being challenged, the former by time and the latter by the ominous crimson sky.

"Red sky in morning, sailor's warning," Alice whispered loud enough for her mother to hear, to which Helen Kingsley nodded and placed a comforting hand on her daughter's shoulder.

"I know how much this ship means to you. To us. But the crew won't stop talking about the color of the sky. They need their captain, Alice. They need you." Alice shuddered under her mother's words. Not because she disagreed, but because she desperately was trying to shake off the sinking feeling in her stomach.

During her first voyage to China almost five years ago, Alice had faced a number of obstacles from pirates to pillagers to a plague of giant, long-toothed fish whose presence threatened to corrode the very ship they sailed on (a story her mother still wouldn't believe, as much as Alice urged her to). But none were so viscous, so deadly, as the storm that encompassed the sea with its untamed atmosphere. They had lost five men that night during their battle with the contorting clouds and the unpredictable waves, and Alice still hadn't forgiven herself for it. She still hadn't forgotten the red sky that she had foolishly admired that morning prior to the night she still had nightmares about.

"Do you think what happened before..."

"What happened before was at a different time."

"Mother, you know my relationship with time is rickety at best."

"The same could be said about you and I many years ago, yet look where we are now."

Alice smiled at her mother's coxing. It was true that after her father died, Alice grew up to resent her mother and her uptight, conformative attitude. An entire adolescence spent sucking in her waist to tie the strings of corsets, giving up freedom and fun in return for manners and boorish, womanly hobbies. But ever since the two had started their business together, ever since they had begun sailing the world with the other at their side, they had grown closer than they ever had been before. Alice liked to think that Charles would be happy to see his wife and daughter like this, and it was this that comforted her whenever she felt weary about the decisions she had and would have to make.

"Mother," Alice queried, "I may not be on the best terms with time, but perhaps lady luck will grant us a portion of her wealth tonight."

"As she should. We've been nothing but good to her after all." Helen watched as her daughter began to make her way toward the front of the ship. Unbeknownst to her, Alice's thoughts were fleeting into different worlds than the one they were stationed.

I wonder if Lady Luck really is a person. Alice thought, and found herself thinking about Time, another non-spatial idea whose physicality was unbeknownst to her prior to her adventures in Underland. Why she was surprised to hear that Time was an actual person when she had already fought off the desperate Jubjub Bird, the frumious Bandersnatch, and the manxome Jabberwocky was about as mad as the very thought of her battles against said creatures. Back when she was in Underland. Back where she felt... she felt different than she did here. For even the unrestraint of the ocean still felt like a fish tank compared to the ludicrous reality that was that place.

"Alice," her mother's voice brought her back to attention as she stood at the front of the ship, and she gave a shout to the crew in order to get their attention.

The various eyes watching her - they looked like flowers staring up at a great tree - brought up memories of her standing amongst the inhabitants of Underland alongside the white queen, declaring war against Iracebeth and her army. And she felt the same as she did then, like she was about to cross a sword with the fangs of a charcoal-scaled serpent. Only this time, she had no Hatter at her side fighting with a duel-handed sword, no Mallymkun scurrying under her feet slicing at the ankles of her enemies. Now, she was staring eye to eye with the brewing dragon of a storm above, and the hopes that the past would not repeat itself.

"Everyone," she shouted, "I know you're all thinking about the sky." Scattering muffles of agreement rang amongst the crew gathered on the deck. "But for now, turn your attention on the ship. Turn your attention to the home we're returning to." Alice glanced at her mother, who gave a reassuring nod. "Turn your attention to the madly talented men I know you are."

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There were golden skies at brillig in Underland, and to most its color expressed only the prosperity that had recently spread across the enchanting world. After all, today was Aurarius Day, and various shopkeepers, artists, and dozens of other craftsman had gathered in the forest of Witzend to sell and celebrate the art and culture of their recovering community.

Silk weavers boasted shining garments with gold-trimmed designs; watch makers stood by their clockwork bronze, silver, and copper creations; The Hightopps and their lush variety of hats greeted everyone with contagious smiles; it was impossible to count them all. Elderberry whine brewers, moonstone crafters, maple-honey beekeepers, shrimp and blueberry tart bakers, flute whistlers, pyrogenetic potion brewers, there were more than even a centipede could count on his hands. The number of tents and stages, however, could not outnumber the amount of citizens dancing throughout the forest as they ran amok with their vibrant clothing and vibrant selves. It was a day of celebration, a day for the citizens of Underland to gather and admire how far they had come since both the defeat of the Red Queen and the events of their champion overcoming the aspects of time himself.

Mirana of Marmoreal, the White Queen, was one of the many that stood amongst the crowd. Hands clasped, cherry painted lips grinning, she walked through the fairgrounds and admired the exuberant activities and people around her, stopping every now and then to address those that acknowledged her presence in a respectful curtsy. "Your highness," they would sputter, bemused to see her strolling amongst the common folk, and even more-so when she in return greeted them by name. After so many years of living under the tyranny of the Red Queen, it still came as a shock to many to hear their monarch pass through the community with an essence of charity and civility.

Mirana halted when she felt a sudden warmth nuzzle against her shoulder.

"Good afternoon, my queen," a soft voice floated from beside her to on top of her head, where a familiar set of feline paws landed on her head and began to stroke her diamond-crested crown. Though she could not see it, she knew Chess' body had just appeared in a wisp of blue smoke, and he was most likely baring his crescent moon grin. "What a wonderful Aurarius day this is, if I do say so myself."

Mirana laughed as Chess nuzzled against her head, tickling the back of her neck with his curled tail. "Indeed it is," she said, trying her best to keep the composure that a queen like her ought to, only to fail miserably as Chess continued to purr in her ears. "Oh, do stop, Chess! You are embarrassing me!" She brought her hands up to grab at him, but he quickly dissolved into the atmosphere, only to reappear in front of her.

"I thought we already agreed, Your Highness. Ever since Tarrant had forbidden me from his own hat, I've been needing a new piece of head gear to fixate on. And your crown is as lovely as they come." Chess teased the queen playfully, floating on the air around her like a raft does a river.

"Implying that you ever listened to our dear hatter's requests," Mirana laughed, finally landing a finger on Chess, which she used to stroke his cheek. To this the weightless feline purred and leaned into her careful strokes.

"Ah, if only our dear Alice could be with us on this joyous day. I'm sure she would love it."

Silence came between them as they both began to think about their champion, who had once again left their land and without them knowing whether or not she would return.

"It would certainly help Tarrant if she came back," the white queen whispered to Chess, her eyes glancing over to where the Hightopp clan had set up their display of whimsical hats and other assorted accents. "Though his family's return has brought his mood up immensely, the loss of Alice another time has taken a toll on him. The two were very close."

"Indeed they were. Had it not been for them, Underland would not be the way it is now." Again, a lull overcame the two. Chess watched the White Queen, who looked to be in deep thought. "I know I have asked before, but the Oraculum, has it-"

"I'm sorry, Chess. But ever since the disappearance of Absolem, the Oraculum has still not been recovered."

"My apologies. That old worm never did make it easy for us, now did he?"

"That old caterpillar was the last of the Ferevetus, the elder beasts who had originally founded this land. And I fear, after so long, they have finally left us for good."

An ear-splitting crash suddenly brought them out of their discussion, and both Chess and the White Queen tensed up as they looked up to the sky where a great, red pattern spread across the atmosphere like a crimson wreath. An uproar of cheers and applauds erupted amongst the crowd, and the two relaxed when they figured it was only the bombastic brothers shooting off their most recent firework.

"Barty and Brich must have some new tricks up their pyromaniac sleeves," Chess laughed. But then he noticed something off. In the corner of his eyes, he spotted a pair of shadowed figures standing next to each other, their bodies absolutely still. Stiller than pond ice on a winter evening. Stiller than a corpse.

"Chess!" The cat turned his head and violently hissed when he saw Mirana's chest struck by what he originally thought were firework sparks, but only had a second to decipher the image of his queen being knocked down by an indiscernible orb-like projectile. Immediately, the joyous shouts of the crowd devolved into shrieks of fear as each and every person was shot by the rapid fire of whatever had exploded earlier. And as each person fell, their bodies radiated with an outlandish, crystalline glow, which only served to further the screams of terror from those trapped within the blinding light.

A sweltering bloodshot cloud painted the once golden sky like a plague of rust descending on what only moments ago was a cheerful celebration, but what was now a distorted hell.