“Council Anthya’s sentiments and viewpoints are…” he paused searching for an appropriate word, “…interesting,” he settled on. “She touches on Councilor Zayla’s death, but she seems to have forgotten that an entire expedition, minus one, is still missing on the Devastated Continent and have probably met their demise by dangers yet unknown.” Councilor Xevin turned his piercingly hard gaze directly at Kiril.
“I’m surprised that new person Kiril, still so young and impressionable, was allowed to travel to the continent with Rojaire and his group in the first place. You can see the damage it has done,” he said pointing to him. “The journal that historian/warrior-to-be Kiril turned in to us is a farce,” the head master said with scorn. “It’s too clean. I have the distinct feeling there are things we aren’t being told. And his mind is no longer on his studies at the Academy; instead he fills his time dreaming of colonizing a sinister, dangerous place.”
Kiril’s face reddened in bottled up fury. The Head Master’s direct statements were a crushing blow. He almost shouted out a rebuke when he remembered he wasn’t allowed to speak unless the silvery Water Rune etched in crystal before him indicated he could. Finally, Councilor Xevin’s cutting gaze turned away from him.
Councilor Xevin paced a bit, letting his words sink in before continuing. “I fear Brakalar’s fall is a warning to us all. The fact that an esteemed member of the High Council can so easily succumb to evil illustrates the need for continued protective control of the people. Call the abominable continent Lynnara if you insist, but keep in mind that such back-stepping isn’t good for discipline and order. I firmly believe that colonization of the Devastated Continent would not be for the greater good of anyone.”
Kiril breathed a silent sigh of relief when the flaring Sun Rune finally returned to its etching on the Crystal Table. The Head Master could say no more. But the next choice of speaker was hardly an improvement. The glimmering Moon Rune rose into position brightly illuminating expectant faces as Councilor Zilka, the eldest of the group assembled, stood. Kiril knew the councilor was also Proctor of the southern communities for the High Council of the Crystal Table. Her thin silvery white hair shimmered in the glow of the rune.
“Councilor Xevin is right,” she stated with force right from the start, her blue-violet eyes sparkling in the light. “The murder of one councilor by another should never have happened. Such an action was unimaginable before we started sending these expeditions to explore. Brakalar’s moral descent has tainted the people’s confidence in the High Council. Instead of opening the Devastated Continent to settlement, we should be shutting down access to the threatening continent all together. There is no shortage of land to settle and explore here on the main continent.” After pausing for a breath, she continued.
“I fail to understand why anyone would want to live in a land where energy can’t be drawn from the elemental forces. It would be a hard brutal life far from civilization. I doubt Explorer Rojaire could find twenty people on the whole planet who would be willing to take up such a venture.”
Kiril glanced at Rojaire seated between him and Anthya. His finely sculpted facial features revealed no reaction to Councilor Zilka’s words.
“I’m sure Explorer Rojaire’s talents can be put to better use. I think I’ve made where I stand on this issue quite clear,” she said and started to sit down. She had had her say, and apparently the Moon Rune agreed, for it left the center of the table.
Almost instantly, the Soil Rune took up the position.
Kiril feared the wrath of Defense Master Jarlon at the Academy even more than the Head Master. This was not going to be good. Refusing to appear intimidated, he bravely kept his head up, although he was shaking in his bones.
“I’m in agreement with Councilor Zilka and Councilor Xevin,” Jarlon said. His dark brooding eyes and fixed scowl amply expressing his dissatisfaction with leniency and sentiment in general and his contempt for the topic under discussion in particular. “Student Kiril has undeniably been lax in his studies and training; and Explorer Rojaire has unquestionably been an unsavory influence in young Kiril’s life.” His words were cold and hard and he glared at Rojaire with obvious disdain.
“A colony requires human resources. Who do you think is going to volunteer to go on such a venture …besides that female friend of yours? Who else would willingly follow you to such a place?”
Of course Rojaire wasn’t permitted to answer. Kiril noticed that Rojaire continued to sit rigidly upright in the wide crystal chair, his face still expressionless. Jarlon continued to speak to Rojaire directly.
“As Councilor Zilka said, it is doubtful you could mass together twenty colonists, men and women, to go with you; anything less would hardly be viable. I suppose you harbor some progressive ideology of excessive breeding to rapidly produce an abundance of unguided offspring.”
Kiril detected the venom in Jarlon’s words. Apparently there was some bad blood between Rojaire and Jarlon that dated back to Rojaire’s rogue explorer days. Jarlon would have continued speaking, but the Soil Rune abruptly left the center of the table, effectively bringing his stance to an end. There was only a brief moment of hesitancy before the Void Rune rose to prominence in the center of the table. When ignited, the Void Rune appeared as a glittering primordial light around a center so dark and opaque it appeared as a hole in the Crystal Table.
Councilor Renna, Aaia’s Representative to the Worlds’ League, stood silently for some time carefully considering her words before she spoke. An effort had been made to contain her long reddish-brown hair in jeweled ties in the style worn by High Councilor Clova, but in Renna’s case, contained did not mean controlled for several curling strands wildly escaped confinement.
“I find it surprising that two important representatives of the Academy, the very foundation of knowledge and enlightenment, would shut portals to exploration. Has the Academy fully abandoned the principles it was founded on? We explore other worlds; should we not explore our own?” She turned toward Councilor Jarlon. “I sense fear. Shouldn’t the Master of Defense be fearless?”
Kiril wanted to applaud Renna’s jab at Jarlon. Finally someone appeared to be on their side. He eagerly waited for more, but Renna’s say was brief as the Void Rune returned to its etching before her. Then the vacancy was quickly filled by the Air Rune and Councilor Kreeze, Proctor of the northern communities for the High Council of the Crystal Table, took his stance.
Kiril held his breath in worried expectation. Kreeze lived in Kiril’s home village. As one of Kiril’s community fathers who helped raise him from birth, Kreeze knew him quite well. Studious and judicious, his graying brown hair shimmering in the soft airy light of the rune, it was uncertain what position he would take.
“Well ...where do I begin?”
Kiril groaned inwardly. I’m in for a lecture now. And if the Air Rune doesn’t cut him off, everyone is in for a long speech.
“I’m not normally one to break away from tradition; and if asked, I would have to admit I’m somewhat resistant to change, but…” the councilor paused for effect, “Lynnara was Lynnara long before the name was banished from maps and the land branded as the Devastated Continent. To this day I’m not quite sure I understand the initial reasoning behind that action. I suppose it helped appease the emotional trauma running so high at the time, but there are other ways to recognize our history without stripping a continent of its name.”
Kiril allowed himself one tiny silent sigh of relief, and then he heard his name.
“Regarding Kiril, son of my own community; the reports from his masters are dire, and he and I will have a private discussion later and another with our community. Suffice it to say, he should be severely disciplined for his lack of diligence in his studies.”
Kiril guiltily dropped his head down, but he could still feel Kreeze staring him down, with his eyes and his mind. It was going to be an uncomfortable home visit during the Academy session break about to start.
“Then there is
the matter of colonization of Lynnara,” Kreeze said after a brief pause. “I have to say I’m as surprised as Councilor Renna at the Academy’s lack of interest in further exploration of Lynnara. Making the unknown known is acquisition of knowledge, and knowledge is potential.” Proctor Kreeze paced around the table as he lectured. “Right or wrong, I can sympathize with one view of colonizing the lost continent or the other. But the true underlying debate here is, ‘How much freedom of choice should the people be allowed?” or perhaps another way to word it might be, “How much control over the people should the High Council exert?”
Kiril was sure he gasped audibly, but the startled expressions around the table were not directed at him. Expecting the High Councilor to intercede, he glanced her way, but Clova had not moved and showed no outward reaction to Kreeze’s bold statements.
Then almost as an afterthought, Kreeze made a suggestion nearly as startling as his previous comments. “If everyone here is so certain that Rojaire couldn’t put together a group to follow him, why not let him take on Councilor Zilka’s challenge. If Rojaire can find twenty people who want to form a colony in Lynnara, perhaps we should give the colonists a chance?”
It was obvious to Kiril that Kreeze had more to say, but he never had the chance. The Air Rune disintegrated in the center of the table and to Kiril’s amazement, the crystal dome ceiling above them brightened. The silver etchings of the eight Runes of Power glowed softly in their places as they did before and the center of the table was remarkably empty. The session was obviously over. Neither Kiril nor Rojaire had been called to speak, which was probably a good thing. Speaking might have made things even worse. All that remained was High Councilor Clova’s final decision, a decision guided by the Power of the Runes of the Crystal Table.
High Councilor Clova rose to speak.
“Our work here today is now concluded. A decision has been made. From here on the Devastated Continent will once more be known as Lynnara, and the diminutive island off her west coast is once again Alaia Island. As for the colonization of Lynnara, Accepted One Rojaire will have three rotations to promote his cause. If he can sign on twenty colonists in that time the High Council will grant a charter for a colony on Lynnara.”
High Councilor Clova did not wait for a response. There was no need to. Guided by the wisdom of the Runes of the Crystal Table, the councilor’s decree would not be challenged. Immediately, she stepped off the dais, and with barely a nod of acknowledgment marched out the chamber.
Kaylya paced nervously up and down the stone balcony outside the living quarters she shared with Rojaire. Like the room behind her, the small amphitheater balcony had been carved out of the mountain itself by artisans. The view from this height was spectacular overlooking fruit orchards, the Academy and the distant Golden Sea, but Kaylya’s mind was too occupied to see it. As Kaylya reached the southwest corner of the balcony, a ray of the lowering sun lit her golden brown hair and smooth chestnut skin.
Traevus watched her pace, his own fist clenched against his thin lithe body in tense impatience. What could be taking them so long? He had just as much to lose as Rojaire and Kiril. He had been on the mapping mission, and he had conspired with them to keep secrets. What was keeping them; soon the sun would be dropping behind the western mountains, and still they anxiously awaited Rojaire and Kiril’s return from the council chamber.
Kaylya had invited Traevus to wait it out with her for moral support. Once Rojaire and Kiril return, assuming the High Council even lets them return, the four of them will either celebrate or commiserate over the High Council’s decision. She and Rojaire had hoped to embark on further exploration of Lynnara with a support team after returning to Aaia from Earth. But a whole season had passed and no expedition had been granted. Kaylya was hoping without much hope that Rojaire would return from the summons to the High Council with good news, despite some of the overlying issues.
Few seemed to understand why she and Rojaire would want to leave the Main Continent at all. It wasn’t like they were unhappy. As promised, upon returning from Earth, she had received Accepted One status in the community, and they had been appointed exceedingly comfortable living quarters in the palatial caverns of the Community of the High Council. And of course there was still the joy of her and Rojaire being together again after so many seasons of separation, seven years as measured on Earth. Her contribution to the community so far has been the scribing of volumes of her experiences.
Kaylya yearned to return to the Lynnaran continent …the seasons spent there with Rojaire had been the happiest seasons of her life. But it didn’t stop there; since their return Rojaire had told her fabulous, wondrous tales of a passage through the Crescent Mountains and about a strange and beautiful valley secretly hidden from the rest of the world. A valley that not only supported exotic plant life, but even several species of never before seen animal life. Even more exciting was the fact that five colonists already inhabited the valley; colonists that the High Council knew nothing about. Well the council had been informed that Theon had remained behind on Lynnara and Tassyn and Edty had elected to stay with him. What the council did not know was that two more members of the lost expedition had also been found and also remained behind.
Kaylya’s golden eyes reflected light from the setting sun as she turned toward Traevus. She twitched with a spasm of cold fear. What if the High Council discovered that Rojaire and Kiril were harboring secrets? What consequences would they face? Another cold chill ran down her spine at the thought.
“What is it? Have you heard anything?” Traevus asked in response to her twitch.
“No…,” she shook her head, barely above a whisper. Then she asked the question she feared asking the most. “What will happen if the council learns there are secrets?” She knew Traevus could hear the tremor in her voice.
“I don’t know; let’s hope we don’t find out.”
The pacing and fist clenching continued as the sun set lower painting the sky in a kaleidoscope of colors. Kaylya didn’t look forward to the long Aaian night, three Earth rotations in length. Fortunately during the winter season Seaa, the nearest star, provided its subdued light during the long darkness. She was spoiled by Earth’s rapid rotation and frequent alternations between day and night. She exhaled deeply for stress relief. Just when she was sure she couldn’t bear the tension any longer, Kaylya froze in her tracks.
“They’re coming,” she gasped.
“Who…?” Traevus stammered his delicately masculine facial features strained with uncertainty.
“Rojaire and Kiril.”
No sooner said, the two long awaited companions appeared beside them.
“Rojaire…” Kaylya rushed to him holding him out at arm’s length as though examining him carefully for possible damage.
“We’re all right,” he assured her. “At least we haven’t been taken into custody,” he added somewhat disparately.
“What happened?” Traevus confronted Kiril, no longer willing to wait for the information to be volunteered. “What did the High Council say?”
“Well, I was severely reprimanded, with likely more to come. But Lynnara and Alaia Island have been given back their true names and Rojaire will be granted a charter to establish a colony if he can sign up twenty colonists in the next seven rotations.”
“Twenty colonists, that’s not so many…we can do that, can’t we?” Kaylya asked gazing into his gold-flecked blue-green eyes, eyes that usually gleamed roguishly, but now glared with anger.
“I don’t know; I doubt it,” he said breaking from her hold.
“Rojaire, what’s wrong?”
“The High Council is mocking us.” It was Rojaire’s turn to pace. “They’re certain we won’t be able to find the following we need, and they are probably right, so that will be the end of it.”
“Do they know about Ollen and Caleeza?”
“No, but they suspect there is something we aren’t telling them.”
“Who said that?” Traevus asked
.
“Councilor Xevin. He and Councilor Zilka not only opposed the idea of a colony; they think people will suffer morally by returning the continent’s name. Jarlon accused me of wanting a colony to excessively breed unguided offspring.”
“Did you have a chance to speak?” Kaylya asked.
“No, and that’s probably fortunate.”
“Someone must have been on our side?” Traevus questioned.
“Yes, Councilor Anthya, and surprisingly, Councilor Renna. Proctor Kreeze presented the council with a long diatribe on logical application toward the issues and ended up offering the challenge of finding colonists as a solution.”
“What if we don’t find twenty colonists?” Traevus asked.
“We will be prevented from returning to Alaia Island, effectively cutting us off from Lynnara,” Rojaire informed him.
“Won’t Captain Setas secretly help us as she has before?” Kaylya asked.
“Maybe. But things have changed. The High Council is on to us. If Captain Setas defies the High Council’s orders she could be arrested for treason. If she were to help us we would have to take her with us for her own protection. I don’t know if she would be willing to leave Alaia Island.”
“She might, to join Theon. I’ll follow you,” Kaylya said embracing Rojaire gently.
“Sign me up,” Traevus said.
“Me too,” Kiril added quickly.
Rojaire stared hard at Kiril. “You will do no such thing. You heard the headmaster; you will focus on your studies.”
“I’m going,” Kiril stomped his foot emphatically. “I’m going to Lynnara with you and you can’t stop me.” Kiril hated the quaver in his voice, but Lynnara was more important to him than life itself. Theon was there, the map, and his journal. It was his valley too. There is no power on Aaia that can stop me from returning…or so he told himself.
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