“Kitab min al Sahra’. An ancient text indeed…over three millennia old.” Khalil rubbed his chin, examining the tapestry.
Oren had gone pale.
“Oren?” Clem asked, but he barely heard.
“Sa’di, are you alright?” Khalil was looking at him.
After a moment, he answered, “Yeah…fine.” He stared straight ahead, trying to figure out what it meant. Darkness? Broken balance? Blood?? This doesn’t sound good.
“Are you sure? You do not look fine,” Khalil persisted.
Clementine was watching him too. Magdalene looked curious.
“I ah, I may have seen that…god…thing in the desert a while back.” He half expected them to laugh, but their humor must have been muted by concern.
“I know, I thought I was crazy too, and maybe I am, but it seemed as real as you or I do sitting here.”
“Is it possible you were impacted by the desert heat?” Khalil asked.
“No, I don’t think so…but there was something else.”
Everyone watched him, waiting expectantly.
“I was bitten by a blue mucca. Possibly more than one,” Oren confessed.
Everyone but Clem seemed to relax.
“Why would that matter?” she asked.
Khalil answered, “Blue mucca venom contains healing properties when applied within a poultice, but when injected directly into the bloodstream it acts as a powerful hallucinogen. The Sahra’ used the lizard both for healing and as a catalyst for spiritual enlightenment. I tasked Sa’di with collecting one to help remedy your injury.”
“Oh, makes sense,” Clem answered. “See, nothing to worry about, Oren. It was just the mucca venom.”
“Perhaps,” Khalil puffed on his pipe, “Perhaps not. Are you confident that what you saw matches the depiction in the tapestry?”
“It’s almost exactly the same. This one might be a little bit smaller, actually,” Oren said, pointing.
“The Sahra’ would consider a vision of Ahn Ket Suun to be a monumental event; one that would send all tribes into a state of near-constant prayer.”
“I can see why. It’s not exactly a good omen.” Oren leaned back, trying to relax.
Magdalene took her seat again and began to lecture, “The Quaside min Ahn Ket Suun, or Poem of Ahn Ket Suun, had many different interpretations. Many saw it as a prophecy of doom, believing Ahn Ket Suun would be awoken to witness the end of the world. Others saw the god as a guardian to protect them from despair.”
Khalil nodded. “And there are those who believe his coming will signal mankind’s greatest trial.”
Magdalene turned to him, “You seem to know a great deal about the Sahra’. Would you mind my asking where you came by this knowledge?”
“Not at all,” Khalil obliged. “I have spent many years in the Miralaja, and in my travels encountered those who have passed down knowledge of such things.”
Magdalene looked shocked, “You’ve encountered the Sahra’? I’ve been studying them for years, but I’ve never seen one. They are so aloof, in fact, that most have forgotten their existence.”
“I think perhaps that is the reason they remain hidden,” said Khalil.
There was a muted thud from down the hall toward the entrance. Everyone turned toward it. A moment later there was another. Thud.
Khalil stood, drawing his sword and running toward the noise. Oren jumped up and followed, sword in hand. They reached the large steel door and paused, listening.
“Is that someone yelling?” Oren asked.
“Shhh!” Khalil held up a hand.
There was more muffled yelling. Khalil sheathed his sword and reached for the handle.
“What are you doing?” Oren whispered. His heart was racing.
Khalil unlatched the door and opened it part way. He reached out and pulled someone inside, then shoved the door closed and locked it.
A young woman? He couldn’t tell for sure. She was cloaked and the hood was up. Oren sheathed his sword.
“Th-thank you c-commandant.” She was soaking wet and shivering. “Had to c-cross the st-stream. Throw them off my t-trail. ” She pulled back her green hood with shaky hands.
She was several years older than Oren. That face is so familiar. She had the most striking green eyes. Her strawberry blonde hair was damp, and he could make out her freckles, despite the dim light.
Oren looked back down the hall and saw Clem lens into view. She was sheathing two hidden daggers. Magdalene stood at the end of the hallway. Oren suddenly realized she was gathering. Khalil looked at her and made a quick hand gesture. The feeling of kai drained from the room.
“Th-there was an attack.”
“Come Anzien, you can explain more once you have warmed up,” Khalil put an arm around her shoulder and began walking her toward the fire.
Anzien! That’s it, Oren thought. She was a Ko’jin errand runner from Masada.
Khalil led her to the common room. Clementine disappeared down the hall and returned shortly with blankets. Magdalene poured her a mug of hot tea. Oren wanted to help, but couldn’t think of what else to do. He settled for arranging some pillows by the fire.
Anzien peeled off her outer layers and laid them near the fire to dry. Clem draped a blanket over her shoulders and she sat huddled by the warmth, holding her tea close with both hands. “There was an attack on Masada,” she said, “The town is under siege.”
Oren gasped, and Khalil stood up.
“We have to go back!” Oren cried.
Anzien continued, “At least four companies of hasai, each led by a Breaker.”
“Oren is right. We must return and help defend the town,” Khalil said gravely.
“I’m coming too.” Clem made it clear that she was not asking.
Anzien looked up at Khalil, “There’s more.”
They all turned to her.
“There was a scout, preceding the attack. He brought news of the Ministry’s preparations to unleash an attack from inside New Arcadia.”
“An attack? But there are so few Ko’jin within the city walls,” said Khalil with intensity.
“An attack on the people…the civilians. They’re calling it the Supplication,” Anzien said frowning.
“Attack the people? To what end?”
“Beginning tomorrow night, all six million New Arcadians will either be dead, or slaves of the Ministry. We received messages from our contacts confirming that Ascension Square within the city core has been blocked off to civilians for the past week. There have also been rumors of…something strange happening at the Pillars of Ascension.”
“Something strange?” asked Khalil.
“The report is uncorroborated…it could be inaccurate.”
“Come, any new information may be of use,” Khalil said looking at her intently.
“The informant reported that the lake normally visible between the pillars was replaced with a fractured landscape; a desert of white sand beneath a churning red sky.”
Khalil furrowed his eyebrows, rubbing his chin. “A banner perhaps? Strung between them?”
Anzien shook her head. “He specifically said it was not…that it was like looking through massive window to…somewhere else.”
“A shadowgate.” Khalil speculated.
Anzien shrugged. “As I said, it’s uncorroborated.”
Oren had to sit down. Can this really be happening?
“Is it possible that the scout unknowingly delivered false information meant to sow confusion? To obfuscate their plans to attack Masada?” Khalil asked.
“It’s not impossible,” Anzien answered. “We believe the scout may have been followed, leading the Ministry to our location.”
Khalil cursed. “Followed? Would the scout not have noticed three battalions of hasai following behind?”
Anzien shrugged.
“If we live through this, I want the name of that scout.”
She nodded. “Yes, Commandant.”
“This is not the first time I’ve heard of th
e Supplication,” said Magdalene. “It is one of the breadcrumbs I followed to learn of the Ministry’s more ambitious plans. There wasn’t much detail about it, but what I did discover was deeply troubling.”
“What was it?” Khalil asked impatiently.
Magdalen spoke calmly, “I recall the more unsettling passages referring to the populace as ‘an abundant source of livestock.’ They included a pragmatic approach for capture, containment, and breeding of human beings.”
“You didn’t think this was important enough to mention before now?” Oren struggled to stay calm.
“There was no indication of any effort or timeline for execution. I had hoped it was an abandoned strategy. It would appear I was wrong.” Magdalene looked away.
“Ya think?” Clem asked, throwing up her hands. She brought them down on her head. “We have to do something!”
“Indeed,” Khalil nodded. “It appears a decision must be made.”
“Wait,” Oren interrupted, “This…Supplication, it’s happening in New Arcadia. That’s over a month’s journey. Even if we could stop it, there’s no way we could get there in time. Masada is a few days from here. It’s not ideal but if we leave tonight, maybe we could get there in time to help.”
Khalil and Magdalene shared a look.
Magdalene finally spoke, “There may be another way to get to New Arcadia before tomorrow night…but it’s extremely dangerous.”
Everyone looked at her, and she took a deep breath.
“As some of you are already aware, our reality lies adjacent to other variations of itself. Picture our universe, or if it’s easier to visualize, our world, as a geodesic grid. A twenty sided sphere with uniformity from all orientations, otherwise known as an isotropic icosahedron.”
Oren looked at Clem hoping to see his confusion mirrored on her face, but she appeared to be listening intently.
“Each flat surface of our polyhedron overlaps with that of another universe. There are twenty variations adjacent to ours. That’s twenty worlds right next door.” She paused to let that sink in.
“Despite their proximity, they vary greatly from our own. The differences from world to world include variables such as atmosphere, chemical composition, the existence of carbon based life, evolution, mass extinction, and others. Beyond this, there can also be varying space-time intervals relative to our own. This means that time may flow faster or slower within other variations, and distances may be shorter or longer relative to our own.”
Oren looked at Anzien, who met his eyes and shrugged.
“What’s even more fascinating is that there are those who have traveled between variations.”
Oren got the feeling that Magdalene was enjoying this.
“In the legends, these travelers were called Pilgrims.” She looked to Khalil for explanation.
He nodded and spoke, “The Pilgrims were beings who spent their entire lives moving from one universe to the next; observing, experiencing, and learning of other worlds. Some say they abandoned their home long ago in an attempt to chart the entirety of existence.”
Magdalene nodded back, her eyes were sparkling. “Others, as recent as five hundred years ago, have reported traveling to one of our sister worlds and returning. There are records, maps, observations. If they are genuine, which I believe they are, then it may be possible for us to do so as well.”
“This is all very fascinating,” Oren said, “but how does any of this help get us to New Arcadia?”
“An excellent question, Oren,” she smiled at him. “I mentioned there are worlds with varying space-time intervals, places where time and distance behave differently. Humans have visited one such world before. There are even maps linking it to our own, with corresponding waypoints. Wait here.” Magdalene hurried down the hall, and returned moments later with two rather large rolled up parchments.
She unrolled one, using two embroidered pillows to hold it open on the rug. Oren recognized it as a map of their home continent. The word Illyria was scrawled at the top. He easily found New Arcadia. Everyone crowded around and she unrolled the second parchment below it. Oren didn’t recognize this one. There was a large crest at the top. At its center was a serpent with two sets of wings. Below it, the word EROS was scrawled in elegant script. Both maps were beautifully illustrated, with elaborate symbols and detailed topography. Clem moved in closer.
“We are here,” Magdalene said, pointing to a mountain stream on their home map. She slid her finger an inch southeast, “Here, you can see an archway. Note the symbol.” It was feline, curving, and elegant. She moved to the map titled Eros. “That symbol corresponds exactly with this one, here.” There was another stone archway with a matching symbol. “These are called waygates. They are said to be ancient passages between worlds…though the last record of anyone using one is centuries old.”
“On the Eros map, to the east of the feline waygate, there is another with a quail symbol. The quail waygate on our own map is here.” She pointed far to the east on the map of Illyria.
“That’s inside New Arcadia,” Clementine said.
“Precisely,” Magdalene responded. “As you can see, the distance between waygates on the Eros map is far shorter than that in our world. If we can get these waygates working, then we can reduce our travel time to a fraction of what it would normally be.”
Oren sat back. This is a lot to take in, he thought. Pilgrims? Waygates? Sister worlds? He felt like he was living in one of Khalil’s stories.
“There’s just one problem,” said Khalil. Everyone turned to him. “The waygate nearest to us is precisely where the Tower of G’shiyrah once stood. It was believed to have been a pilgrim waygate, but Gabrial destroyed it centuries ago. We have no way of knowing if it will work.”
Clem raised her hand, “Ah, guys, I might have some—”
“If we channel enough kai into the right part of the ruins,” Magdalene said, “we may be able to activate it. It was the nature of the area itself, not the tower, that allowed for the waygate.”
Clem tried again, “Hello? I think I can—”
“It is a gamble,” Khalil interrupted this time, “If we take the time to travel to the waygate and it fails, it will be too late to return and help defend Masada. Not to mention the curse.”
“Curse? What curse?” Oren asked.
“If you would just let me expl—”
“There are millions of lives at stake in New Arcadia,” Magdalene objected, “How many in Masada? Several thousand?”
“Hey! Will you just listen to me!?” Clem shouted, and everyone turned to her. Her cheeks were flushed.
“I think I may have a way to get us there…without going to the ruined tower.” She reached into her vest pocket and pulled out a small black sack. She loosened the drawstrings and slid the sack down, gripping a white marble disc through the fabric. She placed it near the top of the unfamiliar map. The engraving on the stone matched the map’s crest perfectly.
Magdalene’s eyes went wide. “Extraordinary,” she whispered.
“I found it with the schematics, in the Chief Ward’s office.” Clementine looked at the stone with trepidation. “I accidentally used it once before I left New Arcadia. What I saw was…impossible. Back then I didn’t know what it was, but I think it might open some kind of pathway to this world.” She pointed to the map.
“This, is a portal stone, Clementine.” Magdalene spoke with wonder, leaning in. “It must be ancient. May I hold it?”
Clem hesitated, then nodded. “Be careful…last time I held it in my hand I was nearly drowned by a massive wave.”
“You must have unknowingly gathered and directed it into the stone. It cannot function without kai.” She picked up the white disc and held it in her palm, examining it. “Most incredible,” she said to herself. The air before her began waffling briefly then solidified. She looked up from the stone and said, “Well, this settles it. We will go to New Arcadia.”
“Wait a moment,” Khalil held up a hand, “We
must all be in agreement.” He turned to face the group. “If you wish to travel to New Arcadia and attempt to disrupt the Ministry’s plan, raise your hand.”
All hands went up except for Anzien’s.
Khalil turned to her, “Anzien, you wish for us to stay and defend Masada?”
“Not exactly,” she said. “I have orders to return there after delivering my message. They will need my help if they are to survive. I wish to return home tonight to defend my brothers and sisters.” She sounded eager.
Khalil nodded and stood.
Anzien followed his lead, standing to face him.
“I understand,” said Khalil. “We will not keep you from your duties.” He stepped forward and placed a hand on her shoulder. “You will need all your strength for what lies ahead. Remember, the Ko’jin stand with you.”
“Yes, Commandant,” she saluted with a fist over her heart.
Anzien then gathered up her garments, which were now merely damp. She pulled the dark green cloak around her shoulders, and walked toward the door.
“Hey Anzien,” Oren called to her.
She turned around. Her hair contrasted starkly with her green hood, and her eyes nearly glowed in the dim light.
“Good luck.”
“And to you, Oren,” she said with a nod and a smile.
With that she turned, pulled the large door open and stepped out. It clunked back into place, and the four of them were alone once again.
Khalil took a deep breath. “If we are to attempt this, we will need a plan.”
20
Battle Plans
Tomorrow night, Oren thought. His anxiety battled his resolve in a swirling whirlpool of emotion.
“We would be wise to depart in the morning,” Khalil advised. “Judging by the map, it will take nearly one full day in Eros to reach the quail waygate.”
That was fine with Oren. The thought of sleeping in a strange world wasn’t all that appealing. “What do we know about it? Anything useful?”
Magdalene answered, “There are old records on atmosphere, terrain, and some of the flora and fauna. We can breathe the air, but there isn’t much else that will be useful. Beyond that, there are accounts of a geological cataclysm centuries ago. Ocean levels rising, mountain ranges collapsing, powerful storms. There is an overall imbalance, though none know why or how it came to be.”
Recreance (The Aeternum Chronicles Book 1) Page 25