by Garry Ocean
“So, why are we just sitting here, Whisperer?” Nick bolted. “We need to get everything together and go save them!”
“Save them!” the old man mocked him. “And how exactly are you going to cross the Rapid Waters? It’s called rapid for a reason. And it’s now flooded more than usual! It will wash out any ferry, just like a tiny wood chip. The pier is closed! That’s it! Now we have to wait for the Heavenly Harbinger to exhaust itself and pour out all of its water. We’ll have to sit here whether we want this or not.”
As if in response, they heard a particularly loud thunder. The lightening strikes were hitting the ground now dangerously close to their dilapidated shelter. They could see the bright flashes of the lightening strikes through the cracks in the window shutters. Nick visualized their little hut as if he was looking at it from the outside and it gave him shivers. “I wonder if the locals know what a rain gutter and lightening conductors are? Yes of course,” Nick smirked sarcastically at himself. “And the hydropower stations here are at every corner.” To be on the safe side, he pulled his feet away from the puddle forming around the stove on the floor.
“Sith, get away from the puddle,” Whisperer said, as if reading Nick’s mind. “The house, of course, has a grounding, but who knows if it works properly.”
“A grounding?” Nick was clearly surprised.
“Well, yeah, a grounding,” Whisperer paused, “How can I explain this to you in simple terms? When the clouds in the sky collide, they produce sparks that are the sky arrows. If such an arrow strikes a person, it can easily kill him. This is why the houses are equipped with the groundings,” Whisperer was hiding a smile in his beard, “I hope you don’t think it’s the Departed Gods who are throwing the lightening strikes at the ground?”
“Ha-ha-ha!” Sith broke into laughter, “I bet, Whisperer, it’s exactly what he thinks! I told you that in the morning he prays to the Departed. ‘Why are you praying to them, Nick? They have departed? And if they are Departed, they are not here and can’t hear you. So, what’s the use in praying to them?’ Am I right, Whisperer?”
“Why don’t you, Sith, put a couple of more logs into the fire. And find a vessel to boil water in. I will make you an herbal brew. It will give us strength and we will need it very soon.”
Sometime later, the friends were drinking a tea-like spicy concoction, taking turns sipping it in small gulps from a clay cup Sith had found and passing it to each other. Nick could feel with great satisfaction how the warmth was filling him up and the unpleasant cold was leaving his body.
Whisperer took another sip and said, “We need to decide what to do next. It’s dangerous to stay here. I am sure they’ve been already looking for us. The Heavenly Harbinger, of course, will hold them off, but not for long.” It seemed like the old man was just thinking out loud. “Should we go to the pier and try to cross, taking advantage of the chaos reigning there before the Exodus? And then what? Try to wait it out in the Tower and then go into the Forest as we had planned earlier?” Whisperer sighed. “This is all so untimely! Our carefully developed plan is failing from the very beginning.”
“And how long can this Heavenly Harbinger last?” Nick decided to take advantage of this forced delay to ask the old man as many questions as possible. He had a lot of questions by this time. However, the events unfolded so quickly from the very day when he was forced to land on this planet. This was perhaps the first time when they could talk about things without rushing somewhere.
“About ten days before the beginning of the Exodus, the Heavenly Harbinger gathers above the White Rocks,” the old man habitually closed his eyes, narrating. “The sky becomes black with clouds, thousands of fiery arrows pierce the land, and a downpour starts. The Rapid Waters begins very high up in the mountains and from there, fed by the heavenly water; it starts its fast run that ends in the hungry steppes or perhaps even farther. It is impossible to cross until the downpour stops. Then Heavenly Harbinger, watering everything in its way, heads toward the Forest. All plants need water, and for the Forest this is a much-needed abundance. The Forest becomes a hundred times stronger and then starts its purge called the Exodus.”
Whisperer opened his eyes and looked at Nick, saying, “Now everything is different. The Heavenly Harbinger came a lot earlier. The Forest was showing increased activity a long time ago. Long before the Exodus this time, our settlements were visited by such rare forest creatures that could be seen only in the deepest Forest. The case with Ron’s hunters was another evidence of that.”
“You mean when I met them for the first time?” Nick guessed.
“It was I who found you!” Sith interrupted. “Had it not been for me, you would have been lost and long dead in that swamp,” the boy finished proudly.
“Yes, Sith, great, I thank you very much,” by now Nick knew better than to argue with the boy.
“This is why I can’t answer your question about how long we will have to stay here. Perhaps it will be one day, or maybe three. We will have to wait for the Heavenly Harbinger to make a turn toward the Forest, and then we can follow it right away. We have food, and we are good on water,” Whisperer gave out a short laugh, “So we have to be patient.”
Suddenly, the sky above their heads split into two, something flashed, and a horrible thunder followed. The hut shook violently, its walls dancing and wobbling. Bits and pieces of old plaster started to fall off the ceiling. Stunned Sith let the clay cup slip out of his hands.
“Oh, Departed Gods!” with the agility uncharacteristic of his advanced age, Whisperer jumped to his feet.
Nick breathed in the air deeply. It had a strong odor of ozone. Seemed like one of the lightening strikes got right into the hut’s roof. Just to be on the safe side, he got up as well and walked the room’s perimeter, checking for any ignition sites. It smelled like something was burning, but it could have been coming out from the patchy stove and chimney. Nick squatted to help Sith to get the broken pieces of the clay cup. Then he looked at the old man and asked, “Whisperer, you mention the Departed Gods all the time. And who are they, those Departed?”
“Wow, Nick, just look at you!” Sith interrupted, forgetting about the scare he just went through. “You are the one who should know, as you are the one praying to them every day!”
“Sith, where is this coming from?” Nick tried to remain calm. What can you do with the boy? If something gets into his head, he cannot be convinced otherwise. At least he stopped mentioning Nick’s hypothetical blood relationship to the local steppe dwellers. Perhaps, he had forgotten it or Whisperer told him about his recent battle with them in the Arena.
Before answering Nick’s question, the old man went to the far corner of the hut, where the roof was leaking more than anywhere else, poked the ceiling with his cane for some reason, mumbling something quietly to himself, came back to the stove, found a dry place and sat across from Nick.
“I don’t even know what to say to that, Nick. Had I not known you well, I would have decided that you simply wanted to tease me,” he looked attentively at Nick, as if deciding whether he should continue or not. Then he went on, “Here’s the thing. Some people believe that a long time ago Gods visited people. They lived among people for a long time. And even helped them. And then they left. Why they left and where they went, no one knows. That is, there are too many opinions about this, and people favor some more than others.”
“Did that happen when the Old City was still alive?”
“No, of course not, a lot earlier!” Whisperer shouted in surprise, then thought a little and added, “But this is a good question, Nick. I never really thought about it. In any case, this is just fairy tales, I bet you anything, just fairy tales. When I was a young master student, I was taught a course on various ancient myths. Most of them, of course, were about the Forest. Now I understand that cow dung is of more use than those lessons. So what can be said about the Departed then?”
“So, nothing at all?” Nick was clearly disappointed.
&nb
sp; “Well, as you know, Frice and I went through a lot of archives.” It was obvious that the old man tried to encourage Nick, “But we threw away as unnecessary everything that did not relate to the Forest. There was something, though, that I thought was interesting. What was the title of that manuscript?” Whisperer played with his beard, thinking.
“No, I can’t remember the title now. But it was written by a writer in Archie the Wise’s court. He was referring to an even older manuscript. Yes, exactly!” Whisperer slapped himself on the forehead. “He referred to the One-Eyed Klo, one of the first chroniclers from the time when the Great City was being built. Frice and I had reasons to believe that he was more credible than others in describing the events of those dark times. So, this chronicler wrote, citing the One-Eyed Klo, that there existed once so-called Faraway Lands, from which our ancestors came here. He also wrote about some other suspicious things. I have remembered the description of a temple built in honor of the Departed Gods. It said that it was as high as the White Rocks themselves, and during thunderstorms it attracted fiery arrows. It’s stupid, of course, but many people still believe that it is the Departed who throw the arrows on our heads.”
Nick gathered himself like a cheetah getting ready for a jump. Just a second ago, he was simply sitting quietly, listening to the old man with his back relaxed against a cool wall. And the next second, he was standing next to the old man, looming over him.
“A temple? As high as the White Rocks?” he exhaled, peering into Whisperer’s eyes longingly. “Where? Where is it?” Nick didn’t notice that he was squeezing the old man’s arm too hard.
“Easy, easy!” the old man tried to free himself. “Let go of me, right now! You’ll break my arm, you thick-skinned stinkh!”
“I’m so sorry, Whisperer!” Nick unclenched his fingers, embarrassed, and stepped back a little. “I don’t know what came over me… Must have been too excited.”
“Excited! What is it with you, Nick, you always scare people like that!” the old man mumbled, rubbing his arm because it had gone numb right away. “People will definitely decide that you came out of the Forest, or, even worse…” Whisperer threw a quick disapproving look at Sith, who was obviously going to insert his own snide remark into their conversation.
“Did that manuscript, by any chance, have a picture of that Temple?” Nick seemed to have ignored Whisperer’s comment. “Where I come from, we like giving illustrations to the manuscripts.”
“Yes, there was a picture, and not just one,” Whisperer agreed easily. “Only, who could have ever thought of building a structure of such a height even if they could and had an opportunity? Obviously, it’s just one of those fairy tales of which, believe me, your humble servant has read too many.”
“Please, Whisperer, draw it for me!” Nick begged. “Do you think you can show how it looked?”
“Well, why not?” Whisperer gave in under Nick’s pressure. He felt the clay floor with his hand and found a short woodchip. Then he cleaned some space on the floor from the dust and trash and quickly drew something from his memory with steady and assured strokes.
That was it! Having seen it once, one would never confuse it for anything else. That structure, that is. A huge pyramid, higher than two kilometers, made of a bright-amber-colored material of unknown origin. Nick saw this image for the first time on the Valkyrie’s monitors. The exploration probes were taking pictures from above, flying around the unknown planet on different orbits. They managed to take pictures of four similar structures. These were the structures that emitted that unknown, or better to say, mysterious quantum resonance.
“Nick, what is it?” concerned, Whisperer’s voice broke the silence from afar. “What’s wrong?”
Nick shook his head, jolting himself back to reality. Here it was, this was the first clue! So, unknown Faraway Lands? Nick suddenly remembered, in every smallest detail, an old map that Frice and Whisperer had shown him once. Yes, everything makes sense now. He managed to land on a large island, or, more likely, a continent that is washed over by an ocean on all sides. And beyond the continent, are the vast Faraway Lands.
Nick did not notice how he got up on his feet and, skipping a little in the excitement of the moment, and then started to pace the room from one corner to the other. So, the only thing he had to do from that point on was to find the elusive Old City, or as it was also called in the ancient myths, Lost City. Then, find detailed information on Faraway Lands, and go there, as soon as possible.
How exactly he would cross the ocean, Nick wasn’t concerned about at that moment. He just wished for this Heavenly Harbinger to pass already. And why do they have this unexplainable love of fancy medieval names for simple things?
Chapter 2
The Judge was beside himself with anger. When he finally made it into his chambers, he gestured his assistant, following him closely behind, to stay outside. In one move, he took the suffocating robe off and sank into a broad comfortable chair. The robe clasp, which was all but a precious stone of an impressive size, fell off and rolled on the floor. The Judge followed it with a hateful look and then banged his fist on the table. Sharp pain pierced him all the way up to the elbow, giving him back the ability to think.
“I need to calm down,” he rubbed his aching hand, “first of all, calm down.”
Without getting up, the Judge reached a small chest, decorated with the precious and semi-precious stones of the White Rocks, standing next to his chair. It had an open bottle of Bay wine, of course, from the cellars of Archie the Wise himself.
“No, now I need something a lot stronger,” the Judge whispered, putting the bottle back. “This refined poison is of no use right now, except for heartburn.” In the depth of the chest drawer, the Judge found a round clay bottle with a narrow neck.
He pulled out the cork with an effort, using his teeth, and took three long thirsty gulps. The drink burned his throat and poured into his stomach. His eyes started to tear. “Oomph, so bad!” he hissed, clearing his throat with a forced cough. “What do those stinky steppe dwellers use to make it?”
For about a minute, he sat in the chair without moving, with closed eyes, listening to his feelings. His head started to clear up little by little. The Judge couldn’t resist and took another big gulp from the bottle. This time, it went down a lot easier.
“Two more sips and you won’t have to worry about anything till morning,” an inner voice told him gently.
“No,” he said to himself, “The most important thing is not to get carried away. I need you sober and thinking clearly.” Still, he hesitantly held the bottle in his hand for some time, as if weighing its contents. Then he put it back into the drawer decisively and closed the door of the chest. After some hesitation, he turned the key in the lock twice and threw it as far into the corner of the room as possible. The key made an arch in the air and got right into the burnt-out fireplace, raising a small cloud of ashes.
The Judge believed himself to be a good strategist and manipulator. He had his reasons for that. During his thirty years of service, he managed to climb up all the career ladders and became one of the five Guardians. In essence, he was the second man in terms of power and influence in the Great City. He was second only to the Supreme One. To be honest, he had been long planning to correct this status quo. And now his plan, which he had been developing carefully for years, had a huge hole in it. Well, to be more exact, not a huge, but a little hole, nothing irreversible. But this hole needed to be patched. Otherwise, as the Judge knew perfectly well, even the smallest hole in the bottom of a large ship can lead to its complete sinking.
It had all started out so well! He managed to set the southerners and the northerners from the Near Forest areas against each other. And when it was reported to him that the hunters had come to the city themselves, it was easy to set them up for a drunken brawl and murder. His people were incredibly experienced in things like that. Although, it was here that the first hole was punched that led to more serious negative conseq
uences.
“Hvat will pay me back for all this! I told him to arrest all five of them. How could he have missed the old man with the savage? They’d been followed from the moment they entered the City through the East Gate. Clearly, Hvat has a lot of things on his plate now. It is understandable that he was responsible for cleaning the city of various scum for the Exodus Celebration. Pickpockets and swindlers of all types from all lands had come here in hope of scamming the law-abiding citizens and trusting visitors. But I told him: Pay attention to the training of your own people! You can solve everything and take care of everything! And that’s the result. At the height of the Ritual, this savage from the Near Forest shows up and fighting along three wounded Alvars defeated a couple of dozen of the fiercest steppe dwellers. And those were not just regular warriors of theirs! The best of the best! Now I will have to explain myself to the Ruler of the High Ghurt,” the Judge frowned even more at the thought of Tyn-Karatyn. “The steppe dwellers are vengeful people, they will definitely remind me about my promise. But it’s all right, in the end I have delivered on my promise, fulfilled my side of the deal. I made sure that they had at least a five-time advantage in terms of the number of people. And the fact that his egotistical warriors managed to lose the Battle and let the Highest Request slip through their fingers is not my fault. Let them pray to the Departed about that.”
“But I have to admit, this savage is a great warrior. Too bad Hvat didn’t catch him then in the tavern. We could have tried to convince him to switch sides. Warriors like this are quite rare. Hmmm,” the Judge scratched his head, thinking deeply. “But it’s too late now. It’s actually better that they left the City.” Even for him, it was impossible to try and eliminate the winner of the Ritual in front of all of the people. The Judge climbed out of his chair with difficulty, strolled to the fireplace and stared mindlessly at the thick layer of ashes.