Techromancy Scrolls_Westlands

by Erik Schubach

  As Celeste approached her smile at the chase faded as quickly as mine when the thought of the pursuit hit me like a runaway auto-wagon. My vision blurred as it traveled west into the crater as I felt my body slipping out of the saddle. The falling feeling was only compounded by the familiar vision starting again. It was so close now. I fell through the Earth itself to be righted as I ran beside myself as I was calling out to the Cristea in archaic Gypsy, “Find cover! I'll pull their fire!”

  The screams of terror and pain from all around me as we ran through the huge field were punctuated by earth-shaking explosions. I could feel a vibration in the ground from the massive steel monsters in pursuit of us. The thick dark smoke swirling around smelled of sulfur and something vile. I didn't want to expand my senses, knowing if I did, I'd taste the iron in the blood that smeared the field around me.

  My heart was racing, and I stared at my own blood covered face as we ran, I looked so determined so... angry? Amber sparks were flying from my eyes and waves of that excess energy was mixing freely with wispy white magiks of the People. My form blurred and misted, making it hard to keep track of exactly where I was in the power that was flowing off of me, leaving ghostly afterimages every time I changed directions. Was this what others saw when they looked at me?

  I could see the now familiar mountains all around us, knowing now what they were, the rim of the volcanic crater we were in. Then my future self looked over, and I swear she saw me. She came to a stop and yelled at me through the rush of fear and adrenaline we were both feeling, “Finally, there you are.” She snarled as she turned back toward the monstrosities that were lumbering along, belching fire, and trailing clouds of bluish black smoke behind them.

  Then she smirked my way and yelled over the sounds of the slaughter around us as she drew our blades, “Metal! It's not magic. They attack us with metal!”

  She, I, we seemed happy about that. Then I saw myself charging directly at the mechanical death machines, my battle cry sounding above the din. I pulled my blades and ran behind myself, she would not stand alone.

  I started to shout for her to take cover, it was at this point that the explosion beside us sent us tumbling through the air in a world of pain and blood. I screamed out, “Nooo!” When I felt the elastic tug on my soul as I was pulled back into the past. The last thing I saw was my future self sliding to a stop and flinging her arms wide. Explosions of misty magic started flowing from her, and I blinked in the face of an upside down Celeste who was grinning at me, though I saw a good helping of concern shadowing her humor.

  Then I realized it wasn't her who was upside down, it was me as I could see my cloak pooling on the ground above me. I looked up to see my foot tangled in my stirrup. She cocked her head almost upside down to look at me as I saw the upside down Greva standing behind her. I waved weakly, and they all chuckled nervously as my Lady asked, “Vision?”

  I nodded. “Vision.”

  She kissed the tip of my nose and asked as she walked away to mount her charger, Canter. “The same?”

  Hey, was she just going to leave me like this? I shook my head and called out, “No it was different this time, she... I was waiting for me there. I was excited about their mechanical monsters not using magic. I told me that they attacked us with metal instead.”

  She started moving toward the peak, and the rest of the Greva rode lazily past me as I hung there. Alexandru, always so gallant, tipped an imaginary hat to me and said, “Sora.” Sylvia looked overly amused as she refused to look at me as she passed.

  I whined, “Hey! A little help here?”

  Sara trotted past, her nose to the air.

  I heard my love ticking off a list. “Brash, impulsive, running off ahead...”

  I exhaled audibly, fine. So they were getting even for my Goliath leaving them in the dust. The hoof of a chestnut charger came into view. I could hear my pulse rushing in my ears and was sure my face was bright red with all the blood rushing into it as I dangled. This was so embarrassing. I squeaked as someone lifted me by the scruff of my neck like I were a rag doll.

  Verna's amused grin was all teeth as she sat me in my saddle from where she reached down to retrieve me from her own mount. She dusted imaginary dust from my shoulders as the squads passed by us, and I patty-caked her hand away from me. Then I sighed and said, “Thanks...”

  She just trotted off calling back, “Don't mention it, runt.”

  At least she had my back.

  She added, “This will be retold ad nauseam at camp tonight.”

  Drat.

  I growled at her as I urged Goliath to catch up with my traitorous wife, ignoring the grins on the faces of the other knights as I passed them. How was anyone going to take me seriously after this? I slowed when I was even with said evil Lady. She said idly, continuing the discussion like my public embarrassment had never occurred, “What do you think it means?”

  Sarafine, half in question, stated as her eyes scanned the game trail we were following, “Metal likes you, Laney.”

  Was it that simple? Was that what I was trying to tell myself? Maybe it was. Metal had an almost intimate relationship with me. Being an Adept, my two biggest strengths are the manipulation of metal and electricity.

  I can channel other kinds of energy, including foreign magic, but those usually burned and scarred both my psyche and physical form if I tried to contain it. I have been getting better at breaking down foreign magics to absorb them as my own, but it is a hit and miss proposition as the Techno-Knights that Celeste trusts enough to train with me are all low powered like me.

  I nodded. I'm sure that I'd know for sure when the time came. It was important enough for me to wait to communicate with me when I had my vision. I was sort of proud that I have apparently figured out how to pass messages to someone using the Sight to see future events. This is the second time I have changed it.

  I crossed my hands over the pommel lazily, letting the reins drop as we moved along, muttering, “By the way, I hate you all.” As my supposed friends chuckled, I smiled at a grey rabbit that hopped across the trail, froze when it saw us then darted for the thick underbrush.

  My girl winked. “Serves you right, my impulsive – Sora.”

  She said Sora so seductively that I was heating up in some embarrassing places for someone supposed to be scouting a new land. Her tone always resonated in my core. By the Three Sisters do I love this woman.

  I could feel the tips of my ears burning as we heard groans from those behind us. I swiveled in my saddle and looked back along the long string of men and woman who were riding in rows of three. “You're all just jealous, this is more action than you are getting.” I crinkled my nose – fiercely – at them then turned back to the trail.

  That'll teach them. I mentally placed a point in the Laney column of the scorecard. About six or seven more like that and I'll offset my embarrassment from dangling upside down from my saddle.

  I got serious and started scanning the world around us, seeing so many amazing things that were exotic to me. Since I haven't been to all the Lower Ten yet, I didn't know if Sparo had some of the flowers and colorful plants I was seeing around us. They were eye-catching to me. “Do we have those big purple flowers? Those aren't like normal petals.”

  Celeste was cocking her head at them, and Syl said from behind us in the tongue of the people, “I believe those are Irises. It is rumored that there are some in the garden of the Great Mother on Father Stone. I have only seen but drawings.”

  I glanced back and gave an apologetic look as I asked, “English please Syl. Until we locate the Cristea.” Many of the Knights with us could speak rudimentary Mountain Gypsy, they had been learning it, and archaic Gypsy since the mission was announced, so that any who ran across the Cristea band might communicate with them. But I knew it was difficult for some to learn a new language so it would be easier to use English until we absolutely needed to speak Gypsy.

  It wasn't necessary as this was a private conversation, but I could alw
ays see the uneasiness in the eyes of the Altii, no matter how accepting they are, when we spoke in the tongue of the People. Like there was some sort of deep-seated fear that we could be plotting against them. I know it is irrational as the Mountain Gypsies have never in history attacked without first being threatened. But I could understand.

  I was proud that I spoke all the known languages still in use today, Gypsy, English, and Outsider. I wondered how long it would be before the new blended society that Prince George and Great Mother Ranelle has introduced, will spawn its own hybrid language between the People and Altii.

  It was certainly an exciting time to live in. It was as if the entire world was changing around me and I was simply along for the journey.

  I cocked my head and asked, “You haven't seen Rain's garden?”

  She said as if it were common knowledge, “Not Ranelle's garden. The garden of the Great Mother. It has been passed from one Great Mother to the next for generations. Not even their private guards have laid eyes upon it.”

  Sara picked up the narrative. “When a plant species is is on the brink of extinction, and the People have problems finding it in the wild, clippings are taken to the presiding Great Mother for the garden. They nurture the plants with magic and love, increasing their number so that they will not be lost to the world.”

  Dru interjected in a sad tone I haven't ever heard from the normally jovial man, “Too much has already been lost to the ravages of time.”

  The little girl that lived inside me was suddenly curious. Rain had a secret garden? I had to see it. I wonder if I could sweet talk her into allowing me to view the plants she is helping survive the time of man. Or maybe I could sneak in just to peek.

  My hand absently went to my shoulder, questing for the scars from my lashing from doing the same at the Great Library. I quickly dropped my hand and looked around, hoping nobody had seen. They all looked impassive enough, but I had a feeling they had all seen. A Sora didn't need to be seen showing her failings.

  My mood was dampened for only a moment as I became amused by a huge flock of birds swooping over the ridge ahead of us and soaring in cutting motions, moving as one before settling in a tree in the thickening forest. The river wasn't as lazy at this elevation as I could hear the roaring of rapids just to our left through the thick underbrush.

  Just about then, the game trail opened to a steep, rock-strewn grassland at the throat of the collapsed section of the caldera. The peaks of barren rock soaring high above us. I realized I hadn't heard the roar and rush of rapids as we moved, it was the sight of twin waterfalls off in the distance that was falling from the peaks on either side of us.

  Our party slowed and spread out in the grasses as we stared in dumbfounded awe. Even at this distance, we could see that these great falls which were feeding the lazy river, dwarfed the tallest falls in Sparo, Angel Veil, which fell over a thousand feet down from cliffs on Father Stone, fed by the glaciers there.

  The People had named those falls buried deep in the Whispering Walls, Angel Veil because they say the waters fall from where only angels dare to tread. They view the falls as one of the first wellsprings to feed the Great Sea after the Great Impact. Breathing life into the habitable lands.

  But the waterfalls in front of us made Angel Veil pale in comparison. The waters had to be falling a half mile down into the valley we had entered between peaks. I heard Dru say a word in Gypsy I didn't know, his eyes on the falls as he shook his head in an amazed reverence.

  This was truly an alien land to us all, and I was so humbled at being able to witness it all around me.

  I paused in my reverie and pointed as a large heard of wild horses charged out into the grasslands, like smoke boiling out of a thicket. The herd was huge, like the wandering buffalo that migrate through the Wexbury and Flatlash grasslands. There were thousands of them as they came to a stop in the middle of the steep meadow and started grazing. They were smaller horses, not like the chargers that the Altii preferred.

  Celeste was excited as she said, “Mustangs!” Then I understood her excitement. The Mountain Gypsy bands preferred oxen for most things, because of their versatility, but the few horses they had were all mustangs, like the other three of our Greva rode. They were lean, fast and nimble, they just didn't have the stamina our Knights preferred.

  I smiled in the realization that them being here in the Westlands had to have been a result of the Cristea bringing them. They look to have prospered in the centuries since then.

  I was knocked out of my thoughts by a quick shrill whistle to our right. We all turned and a scout from Able, Sir Javier I believe, was pointing to his eyes then what looked like a scarred and pitted trail. Celeste looked around and pointed to her eyes then the group and then the valley. Everyone was on alert as Celeste, and I trotted over to the man.

  We looked at what I thought was a trail, it was wide, like a road almost of torn up ground, it looked like a series of steel plates had been pressed down, and the ground around the impressions torn up. It left an ugly scar on the pristine land around us. It seemed to stretch northeast, around the base of the volcano.

  Celeste dismounted and looked at the damaged ground, she took a pinch of dirt, sniffed at it then tasted it. She looked around and said, “Fairly fresh, maybe two weeks old.” She pointed at a few other trails that paralleled and crisscrossed the damaged earth. “Five of whatever left these, and two odd wagon tracks.”

  I slid off of Goliath and moved beside her. I could see the grass starting to grow on the charred ground, knowing how she knew how long ago the damage occurred. Then over to two wide sets of wagon tracks. But the furrowed edges were not sharp like a regular wagon wheel. These were instead cupped, rounded, with an odd zigzagged pattern. Who would take the time to carve their wagon treads and to what end?

  I inhaled deeply through my nose and asked, “The Great Wizards?”

  She nodded and said oddly distant, her mind somewhere else like she was lost in a memory, “Perhaps. Let's get moving. We're ahead of schedule, we may have an hour or two to scout once we reach the ridge. She pointed at the peak of the valley not more than a mile away. It excited me that we were less than an hour away from being able to see the Westlands before we set up camp for the night. Then our three-day clock would begin. We had to find the Cristea, and we had to do it fast. It wouldn't be that difficult, would it? It didn't look overly huge in the air, I mean, just how big can this crater really be?

  The answer I found an hour later when we crested the ridge, the roaring rumble of the waterfalls on either side of us in the narrow gap, was... very.

  Not just big, but awe-inspiringly huge, as even from our vantage point, the sea of green disappeared over the horizon, behind the large domed mountain in the middle. We couldn't see the other side of the crater.

  I knew before a Defiance Knight voiced it as our squads just stared out into the distance in stunned silence. This was no volcano.

  The bald man nearby was just shaking his shiny head as he wiped sweat from it with a handkerchief. “This... is an impact crater.” Celeste was slowly nodding.

  I knew it couldn't be a volcano, it was so vast. I looked at her in silent question to explain. I hated being the least educated in the group, but I wanted to learn. She smiled softly at me and pointed at the dome. “This is an ancient impact crater, most likely dating back to the Great Impact itself or soon thereafter. That...” She indicated the mountain. “Is most likely a piece of Mother Luna that was large enough to survive the plummet through the atmosphere.”

  My eyes snapped to the domed mountain. A piece of Mother Luna! I wanted so badly to visit that mountain now. A piece of the sky itself! I glanced quickly to the East to see the Three Sisters pale in the sky, preparing to light our night for us, and the ring of debris around the Earth that chased them through the sky.

  I said, “A celestial body...”

  With no teasing in her tone, she said, “Maybe I can find you a piece of her before our mission is over.”
>
  I blushed and then she transformed into a competent commander in an instant as she started barking out orders. “Set up camp here, we have a good view of the crater and our base camp below.”

  I looked down the slope to see three little grains of rice down by the ribbon of green that followed the river out into the barren wastelands. The airships looked so very tiny and inconsequential from here. I could see flickering orange pricks of light indicating they had started the campfires, to start last meal preparations.

  She pointed at Able Squad. “Two teams, north and south, scout no more than an hour out and report back, the Greva will scout the center.” She looked at Sir Wesley from Far Reach. “Wes signal the camp our intentions. He nodded once and pulled out a mirror from a pocket in his cloak and started flashing the camp.

  She turned to us as two three-man scouting teams rode off, keeping to the walls of the crater in either direction. A man was calling out, “Come on now, you heard her. Let's get this camp set up.”

  She nudged her eyes to the ocean of forests and grasslands below us and smiled. She was leaving it to me again. But I guess my excitement was showing as I was almost vibrating in Goliath's saddle. We were about to venture into the Westlands!

  I inclined my head to the people on our five-person squad, my extended family, and I rasped out, “Ladies shall we?” Then I smirked as I started riding down into the valley below, and added hoarsely, “Oh, and Dru.”

  I glanced over to see the cocky man just grinning at me, he winked, and I grinned. The curls of his black hair flowing behind him in the breeze, like in those silly romance tomes that mother has taken to reading. The man looked good, and he knew it. Was it wrong to call such a masculine man, pretty?

  Then we descended into the forest below. It reminded me so much of the Black Forest between Flatlash and Treth, it was so dense it was blocking out much of the waning sunlight. I could hear and see wildlife all around us.