by Eric Guindon
“Cows, pigs, chickens, apples, tomatoes, potatoes, bread, pasta: much of the same things that you eat today.”
“Well, I could eat a horse,” Kyria said. “But I’ll settle for a cow.” The girl had never had meat from a cow; such a thing was too expensive for her family. Meat in general had been a luxury only eaten at holidays and special times.
“Take this box, then,” Haylem indicated her meal through their bond. She took it down from the shelves and brought it back to a table.
“It’s eerie being alone in a room meant for so many people,” she commented.
“I’ve felt the same about having this facility empty for so long. Back when it was at its height, this place held hundreds of people. I miss the bustling activity within me.”
“What a strange thing it must have been to have had actual people inside of you,” Kyria remarked as she opened the box. The moment she had the lid off, a puff of steam and moisture wafted up out of the container.
It smelled wondrous!
Kyria inhaled the meaty smell deeply and sighed.
How could the workers have ever taken such a thing for granted? She wondered.
The contents seemed to consist of a few hunks of meat, cow, she presumed, a wealth of small green berries of some sort, and two large lumps of white mush. The whole was covered in a thick brown sauce.
“Roast beef, green peas and mashed potatoes, smothered in gravy,” supplied Haylem.
“Those are potatoes?” Kyria double-checked. Haylem was amused.
Kyria devoured it all in less than three minutes.
“In the Golden Age, we chewed our food,” Haylem pointed out.
Kyria made a face and laughed. “Well, you certainly didn’t chew your potatoes. It looks like someone else chewed them for you beforehand.”
But, although she had eaten the whole box, the girl was still hungry. She had another whole box of the same thing and took her time, relishing the unusual tastes and textures of the food. She burped with great satisfaction after the last forkful of mashed potatoes.
“Was everyone in the Golden Age fat?” She asked Haylem. “Because if I could eat like this every day, I would be so very fat!”
“Many were. It was an age of plenty, Kyria.”
The girl paused for a moment, thinking, then said, “I’m sorry, Haylem,”
“What have you got to be sorry for?” Kyria could sense Haylem’s confusion through their bond.
“I keep bringing up the Golden Age. It must be the same as if you kept asking me about my father.”
“Ah. Thank you for your consideration Kyria, but it has been gone for so long now that the wound is not as fresh as you think. Please don’t feel like you have to avoid the subject.”
After breakfast, Haylem directed the girl to a place where she could bathe and use the toilet. The conveniences of the Golden Age continued to amaze Kyria there as well.
An hour later, fed, washed and refreshed, Kyria was eager to get the day’s work done.
“You said yesterday that the attunement plate would be the hardest work. Why is that?” she asked.
“Because, now that the bond between us is complete, I can guide you directly.”
Kyria wasn’t sure if she liked the sound of that.
“I understand your hesitation. It will be strange at first, but I guarantee you that it is the quickest way to get this work done.”
“What will it feel like?” Kyria asked.
“I couldn’t say, having never had it done to me,” Haylem replied. “But I can guarantee that it is painless.”
“Okay. Do I have to do anything?”
“Simply open the door between us and let me into your mind. It will likely feel . . . crowded.”
The girl did as instructed. In her mind’s eye, she pictured opening the door in the mental wall she had constructed. Immediately, she felt an in-rushing of Haylem. She was pushed away from all of her body’s sensations, from all of her limbs. Every sense went numb as she was disconnected from control of her body. All that she was allowed to keep were her sight and hearing, which she shared with the invading rune-mind. Even those were controlled by Haylem, the eyes looking where he chose.
She heard her own voice speaking to her.
“Do not panic. This is very temporary. Think of it like a strange dream, Kyria, and let yourself relax.”
If she could have, Kyria would have taken a deep breath to calm herself. Bereft of even the means to do that, she settled for counting in her head at a sedate pace. While she did this, her body was busy.
She watched as her arms reached out and used the device she had dubbed the Metallizer to make two small metal rods. These were only fifteen centimetres long, each had one end shaped like a curved handle. With the basic form created, Haylem then had her body use the Etcher to emblazon complicated rune structures onto the rods which he then filled with metals using the Metallizer once more. The whole of the work took the rune-mind no more than an hour. Kyria was certain it would have taken her days, assuming she made no mistakes, which was unlikely.
Having completed the two rods, Haylem withdrew. The rune-mind left a vacuum behind, which Kyria felt herself expand to fill. She was back in control of her body.
“That was unpleasant,” she said.
“I am sorry. I tried to work as quickly as I could,” Haylem told her.
“I know. It was for the best. Are you going to have to do that again?” She asked.
“Yes. Two more times. I stopped to give you a break. I hope you were not too uncomfortable.”
“What did you make?” The girl picked up and handled the two devices.
“Weapons, one for each hand. They are not even a tenth as destructive as the rod you used to clear the junk from the hatch, but they will also not use even a hundredth of the vitality,” Haylem explained.
Kyria picked up the weapons. The handles were perfectly formed for her grip, a nice touch on Haylem’s part, making them feel natural. She located the firing stud and appreciated its placement; all she had to do to fire, it seemed, was squeeze the grip. These lacked the sliding rune portion and the attachment point of the larger rod.
“Yes,” Haylem answered her unasked question. “These weapons are not as destructive so I did not bother with a safety.”
“A what?”
“The two-part construction of the larger rod is to make it so that the runes have to be deliberately aligned before the weapon can be fired. This is a safety device to prevent accidental discharge of the weapon.”
“Ah, I see,” the girl said. “But these don’t need that?”
“They aren’t as dangerous. One shot from this weapon will knock out pretty much any unprotected adversary. A second shot is needed in order to kill someone.”
“You don’t want me to kill, do you?” Kyria asked.
“I want you to have options,” Haylem said.
“Okay. Because, you know, I will kill those bastards, the two that got away and took my mother.”
“I know. I will not try to stop you. I might advise you against such a course, but I will not get in your way.”
“Okay,” Kyria let the matter lie. “Why don’t these have the attachment socket?”
“On the rod, a vitality storage attachment could be added to the weapon. With this the weapon can be fired by the operator without draining their own vitality excessively, and a fresh vitality store could be used to continue firing once the first was exhausted.”
“But I don’t need that for these because they use so little vitality per shot?”
“Exactly.”
After this, Haylem took over Kyria’s body again. This time he made a strange circular device, small enough to fit in the palm of the girl’s hand. To the base, the rune-mind added a needle with one end pinned to the centre, the other end was left free to rotate and point in any direction along the edge of the circle. With the basic form completed, Haylem covered the bottom of the device with a multitude of runes, writ incredibly small. To
manage these, he used the magnifying glass arm so that he could work in such small details. When it was completed, he returned control of her body back to Kyria for another break.
“And what’s this?” She asked when she once again had control of her own mouth.
“A compass,” Haylem explained. “It will point in the direction of what you are looking for, so long as you possess something to link to what you seek. This should help immensely in finding your mother.”
Kyria’s face split into a wide smile of delight.
“Really? It will be that easy? Follow the needle and it will bring me to where the bandits are holding my mother?” She wanted to laugh.
“Possibly. It should do exactly that. In the Golden Age, privacy was important, most wore protections against such finding charms. But today, in this Dark Age, it should work with no difficulty.”
Kyria held the compass like it was the most wonderful thing in the world, admiring it from different angles. She let out a sigh of the deepest relief. “I really wasn’t sure until now how I’d find her. This is perfect, Haylem. I can’t thank you enough.”
“We’re not done yet,” the rune-mind told the girl.
Following Haylem’s directions, Kyria found a storage room filled with a variety of clothing, all in a similar colour scheme of dark green and tan.
“These are uniforms for the different branches of the facility’s staff. You might want to wear one of the jumpsuits, Kyria. A sundress does not seem fitting attire for a rescue expedition.”
Kyria found a one-piece suit that fit her and put it on. The interior was lined with runes. These were in direct contact with her skin when she finished sealing the garment.
“What do these do?” She asked, meaning the runes.
“They are a basic complement of comfort runes. They should regulate your body temperature, keep you from being too cold or overly warm. They also keep the clothing clean and protect it from wear and tear.”
“My mother would love these; she’s always after me for ripping clothes.” Kyria had begun the sentence with humour in her voice, but it was melancholy by the end. She was all business when she next spoke: “Okay, what else are we here for, Haylem?”
The rune-mind indicated she should grab a tool belt, which she could use to keep her weapons sheathed at her waist and to store small items, like the compass.
“Also, you’ll want a pair of these boots,” Haylem indicated a pair set aside. These were different, bulkier than most of the other pairs of boots in the store room. When Kyria picked one up, she saw the boot had runes inside.
“More runic goodies?” She asked.
“You need to put them on without stockings,” Haylem replied. This posed no problem since Kyria had no stockings with her. The boots were a good fit, if a bit loose.
“Now take a step up, like walking up stairs,” the rune-mind suggested. When she did this, Kyria’s foot found solid ground, up there, in the air. It was an odd sensation, having one foot standing on solid air. “Now the other foot . . .” Haylem prodded. Kyria, with hesitation, put her weight on the foot supported by thin air and raised her other foot to the same level.
She was standing on air! The girl was speechless.
“Impressive, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” Kyria said. She tentatively experimented with walking around and had no trouble doing so, thirty centimetres off the ground. Getting bolder, she took another step up. Soon, she was rather near the very high ceiling and running around on air with no difficulty.
“We called them Skyrunners,” Haylem told the girl. “Maintenance crews used them for working at heights. These, my dearest Kyria, will be your transportation.”
“Just one question,” asked Kyria, who was now quite high up above the floor. “How do I get down?”
“Just step down,” Haylem told her.
“But . . ?” The girl thought that this made no sense, but figured the runes in the boots could tell she wanted to put her foot down, because when she tried it, the previously solid air beneath her foot allowed her to put her boot down lower. She was able to walk down from the heights just as easily as she had climbed up. “Amazing,” she said once she was standing on solid ground once more.
“They do use up a tiny bit of vitality when they are active,” Haylem warned. “But it is not much. When we are on open ground, you will find that you can climb up off the ground and then slide along the air at quite a reasonable pace. It isn’t as quick as riding a horse, but it is much less effort than walking an equivalent distance and almost three times as fast.”
“These are perfect, Haylem. Thank you.”
“You will want a backpack to carry provisions, as well,” Haylem indicated where those were kept. “And a cloak.” There were full-length dark green cloaks hanging from hooks in the store room. Kyria picked one that fit her best. She went to put it on, but Haylem stopped her. “We’ll be adding some runes to that one,” the rune-mind explained.
Back in the room with the workbench, Haylem took over Kyria’s body for the third and last time in order to prepare her equipment. Kyria saw the inside of the cloak was already inscribed with hexagon upon hexagon filled with runes.
“Those are the same sort of runes as are in the jumpsuit. What I’m adding will make this cloak into armour for you, Kyria,” Haylem was once again talking to the girl with her own voice. “This time we’re using blood to inscribe the runes.” Kyria saw her hand reach for one of the tools they had not previously used. Haylem touched her wrist to a specific part of the device and she saw blood fill a small receptacle attached to the tool; her own blood, she realized. Then the rune-mind manipulated the device to mark out a new set of runes on the interior of the cloak.
“You have to be careful when working with blood,” she heard herself say. “You cannot complete the runes until you are ready, or you might have an accident as the completed partial design activates. It’s a tricky business, but with experience, it can be accomplished safely.” Once the work with the blood was completed, Haylem had Kyria’s body put aside the device she had renamed the blood-painter and brought forth yet another tool. This one seemed to spray a fine mist over all the runes save one: the activation rune. “It’s a clear coating to protect the runes,” Haylem explained.
This accomplished, Haylem once again retreated to his side of the mental wall and Kyria shut the door between them with a relief. She was getting used to being squished into a corner of her own self, but she still did not like the sensation one bit.
Kyria tried on the cloak. Where it cinched closed, it touched her skin; this was where Haylem had put the activation runes. It almost reached the floor, covering her from head to toe when she had the hood pulled up. It even had two holes for her hands to come through without opening up the front of the cloak.
“What do the additional runes do?” she asked.
“It is called the steel-cloth enchantment,” Haylem answered. “Any time something touches the cloak while possessing a certain degree of force behind it, the nearby fabric will temporarily stiffen to be harder than steel. This should absorb most attacks you are likely to deal with, I think. It definitely should have no trouble with arrows and crossbows, swords and knives, and the like.”
“Tha-That’s more than I could have hoped for, Haylem. I cannot thank you enough for all this.” Kyria had to hold back tears. She feared she would become undone if she allowed herself to feel too much emotion.
“You can thank me by surviving, by freeing your mother, and by being wise,” Haylem said. She felt through the bond his concern for her.
What have I done to deserve such help? The girl wondered.
You do not need to do anything to deserve such help, Kyria. All you must do, having received it, is prove yourself worthy of it.
Chapter Eight:
I Will Find the Bandits
Haylem had been quite persuasive about Kyria needing to rest before heading out.
“You have to be careful to get enough sleep, now t
hat you need your vitality to defend yourself. Remember, the Skyrunners will also take their toll.”
Bending to this advice, the girl had stayed for one more night and two more meals before heading out the next morning.
Her new backpack was bulging with a variety of ration packs, her equipment was all stowed and ready, and there was no further delaying her departure.
“I don’t know why I feel so sad to leave this place,” she said to Haylem as she exited the facility’s hatch. “It’s you I care about and you’re coming with me.”
“Perhaps, but I think that you and I both know that you were safer in the facility than you will be out there, in the world. Out there you faced violence, your home was destroyed, and your life as you knew it was lost forever. I can understand a certain hesitation to go back.”
“A part of me wishes I could just hide away down here,” she admitted.
“And a part of me wishes I could find your mother for you while you wait here,” Haylem replied.
Kyria stood straight and took the first step away from the hatch and the safety of the facility, then another and another. The first was the hardest; the others grew easier as she went.
Her first stop was her family’s house beside the Yard. It stood just as she left it, only two days ago. She found signs that at least one other customer had come, leaving tracks in the dirt, but she doubted they had dared enter the Yard for themselves. They must have left unsatisfied.
Eventually, someone from the village will be dispatched to see what happened to our family, won’t they?
Kyria gave it no more thought. This was no longer her home. If there was such a place for her now, it was the facility. But even that place was more a refuge for her than a home. She would have no home until she found her mother.
The girl was not sure why she had stopped by the house. There was nothing there she needed, there was nothing there she wanted. Then she realized there was something she wanted, and made her way to the graves she had dug, what seemed an eternity ago.
Kneeling there, ignoring the nearby rotting bodies of the bandits, Kyria had a moment with her father.