“This is…Fiscere square. The next stop is…Central Nan-li Healing Center Old Complex,” flashed the display on the light rail train. Elendir adjusted his dark blue outer coat to conceal his light blue tunic better as he rose in preparation for disembarking from the train. His heavily embroidered silver and gold belt with its distinctive Ten-Ar knot work peaked out. A cloaked woman sitting in a nearby seat covered her face at the sight. Elendir averted her gaze. She must have discerned the meaning of his belt ... why else would she take greater pains to not be recognized? Elendir closed his eyes and quieted his mind, assuming the discipline of the Ten-Ar knights and trying to reach out with his mind.
Elendir counted Lord Knight Corann as one of his ancestors, but he had not inherited Corann’s psychic abilities. Corann, it was said, was both House Ten-Ar and House Miyoo, a sort of prodigy in martial and priestly prowess. Some of Corann’s descendants had retained the priestly skills, but not Elendir. In his mind all he could discern was, essentially, the obvious—this woman, in discerning him as House Ten-Ar, was uncomfortable with that prospect.
As the light rail train slowed to stop at the Central Nan-li Healing Center train stop, Elendir peered at her as tightly as he could. Brown eyes under black hair peered back at him, something he had never seen! Elendir nodded at her, then stepped off the train.
Elendir gazed around. Unlike the familiar streets of Hejing which were clean, pristine, and geometric, these streets were considerably darker in color, dirty in a way Elendir had never seen before. Trash cans were on opposite corners of the block, yet litter was scattered on the sidewalk in several places. As Elendir searched for the hospital, which should have towered close to him, he smelled an odd, putrescent odor coming from a very non-localized source. Elendir checked his small, portable computer for navigation instructions. According to the map, the hospital should be about 0.5872 li from his current location. Alternating his gaze between the map and the street, he tried to follow the map. The odor grew more intense.
Five millilentars passed. The map told Elendir to stop. Elendir looked up and to the left. Something smoldered near him. Elendir turned to approach the burning wreckage.
“I would not go there if I were you, milord!” warned a gaunt, 50 cun tall man with black hair, brown eyes, and sallow skin, his tunic and trousers both a very dark brown in color.
“Why not?” asked Elendir.
“Bad things happened there…many yentars ago. That is the old Central Nan-li Healing Center. The new one was built two li that way,” pointed the brown-eyed stranger.
“People died there, didn’t they?” asked Elendir.
“Many…healers and patients alike. Houses Ten-Ar and Gurun lost their best healers, they say!”
“I…heard. Even in Dong-bei we’ve heard….”answered Elendir.
“No, good Sir, you have not heard…not unless you live here! I have to assume by the color of your eyes that you do not!”
“No…I do not live here. I travelled here from Hejing to find this place!”
“No one looks for this place, good sir! This is where it all began, where the terrors started.”
“Terrors?”
“I…would not expect a nobleman like you from so far away to know…or understand. For over sixty yentars this city, this place, has lived in terror. Many people, not just those you heard about who died here, have been killed since that day.”
“What about the law enforcers? Have they done nothing?”
“What is there to be done? No one knows when or where the next building will be hit. No one knows who will be targeted. The law enforcers are as helpless here as any other residents.”
“But surely there must be some demands, something whoever is doing this wants!”
“You mean more than transforming what was once a glittering city of crystals and gems into a war zone? Sometimes, my good Sir, the objective is simply to create fear and disorder. Sometimes what a person wants is simply to watch another perish in great pain. If this is what that person wants…she, he, or they have achieved it…well!”
“We Beinarians do not seek the suffering of other living beings. We are far too civilized for such things,” countered Elendir.
“Perhaps…in the past, they say, this was so. But this is EE 6827. Times have changed since all of Beinan was ruled with justice and democracy by the Great Council and our elected monarchs. We are no longer so…gentile,” hinted the sallow-faced stranger.
“You speak of violence and disorder…are such terrors confined to Nan-li city…or is more of Xi-Nan Fang so afflicted?”
“Some communities escape the chaos here…but not many. It is the orgene saturating our blood, they say. Or do you not know about this either?”
“Orgene…as in the ore used to create the orgon that powers our society?”
“Of course…or don’t noble boys like you learn anything about this continent I call home?”
“Please pardon my ignorance, milord! I have perhaps spent too many yentars sequestered in my education. This is, admittedly, my first time away from those of my house!” confessed young Lord Knight Elendir.
“So much for the alleged wisdom of House Ten-Ar then!” mocked the stranger.
Elendir blinked hard. He had carefully concealed all marks of his house. He had even broken protocol by not wearing his Ten-Ar sword, the clearest mark of knighthood for House Ten-Ar. How did this stranger know? “W-wh-what makes you think I’m of House Ten-Ar?”
The stranger laughed, “You ARE naïve, young one! Pure logic, of course! Who else but the nobles of House Ten-Ar wear such finely woven clothes? Who else but the knights of Ten-Ar wear such elaborately woven belts? You really think we natives of Nan-li know so little of the world just because we are…afflicted?”
“Afflicted? What are you talking about?! Your skin seems a little strange to me…and your eyes are a color I did not know was Beinarian at all…but beyond that—“
“Dear knight…did you not learn even of the sickness that plagues everyone who breathes orgene in their air? For ten generations on end, the disease takes away most of our eyesight…as long as we remain on Beinan, that is! Leave our clouded planet and our sight improves. The price for mining orgene and producing orgon is nothing less than disability or exile for all of us who must work the mines or live within five thousand li of one!” cried the stranger, half furious.
“There have been…stories. But who could believe such tales…Brown Eye Syndrome is a myth, a story created by those who believe we should find some energy source beyond orgon…even if it means confining ourselves to our home planet. Orgon is the only known power source capable of propelling our space craft to super-light speeds!” debated Elendir.
“Look into my eyes, young knight! Brown Eye Syndrome is no myth; it is the real genetic disorder destroying the sight of nearly everyone on this continent! After generations of mining, basic farming is not possible anymore…the mutations orgene dust provokes means nothing healthy can grow here, plant or beast, anymore.”
“Is it true that houses Ana, Cashmarie, Shem, and Slabi bear the brunt of this here?”
“It is not a matter of houses, Lord Knight, but of economics. The poorest and least noble, least powerful must live and work here, those the rest of our society do not want. Few are the temples to the goddesses; no one in House Miyoo wants to live here and develop Brown Eye Syndrome! Those that do are considered more missionaries than priestesses and priests of the alleged planet-wide religion! No, good Sir…this is a land where House Shem rules far more supreme. We here are God, not Goddess, fearing!” described the stranger.
“The goddesses are not to be feared, good Sir…but acknowledged and honored. More than this, on the matter of religion, I feel it is not my place to debate; I am not educated in such things more than any everyday citizen of the north,” admitted Elendir.
The stranger nodded, “Religion divides more than it unites. I will honor this.”
“Sir…may I inquire as to your name?”
“Call me Mukhtar,” bowed the stranger.
The Lost Tales Page 21