Olwen's Travels

[steuben]

Olwen floated in the blood warm space between dreams. Memories drifted through her mind. The fight with her parents over her friends, the phone call that meant her parents world leave without her, the crunch of gravel as the car left her with a great uncle she barely knew existed. Sounds came to her faintly muffled like they we speaking through thick fabric. The small three room cabin in a wood. The three old men on the porch in front of the store telling a story about her uncle. The crystal in the sword over the fireplace that glowed faintly in the dark. She vaguely felt blankets wrapped tightly around her. The pale blue crystal set in a granite post in a clearing in the wood. Her uncle insistently telling her that she was kin to the demon, if anybody asked, and that he will come for her, as a wall of light surrounded her. The insect like horror that came out of a bush that wasn't there before.

Olwen bolted upright, screaming. She felt the hammock swing underneath her. A pair of arms held her. "Shh, it's alright. You're safe." A female voice said. It held the sibilant sounds longer than she was used to. She calmed. She noticed that the arms were furry like a cat's, if they were human sized.

"Where am I?" She noticed that she still couldn't see despite her eyes should be open. "I'm blind!" She noticed that the blanket that had slipped down was the only thing she had covering her. "Where are my clothes?"

The arms released her. "Well, well, you are feeling better." The voice said to someone else. "Clinormant go tell grandmother that she is awake, and feisty." Back towards her, it said, "I am Cali. You are not blind. The antidote we used for clacker venom causes the eyes to be sensitive to light. I've never seen anybody need so much for such a small bite. So, we bound your eyes. Your clothes, such as they were, were shredded by the clacker. We should have some that will fit you to replace them.

"As for where you are, you are in a small village just a bit outside of Ojaveda. Tell me kit, what is your name? How did you come to be out here dressed like that?"

"I am Olwen. I don't know how I got here. I was outside my uncle's cabin. Then I was surrounded by this wall of light. When it went away this thing came out of a bush and attacked me. I have to call him let him know that I'm alright."

"We can get a message to him. What is his name? Where's his cabin?"

“Claye.” Olwen heard a curtain rustle. The words of her uncle echoed back to her. Hesitantly she said, "I am kin to the demon."

"The demon had no kin," an old female voice said. "Do you know what it is that you claim?"

Olwen stiffened slightly and clenched the blanket in her hands. "I... I am kin to the demon." She repeated.

"Well it could be... but there are was never anyone that I saw."

The old voice was near her. She heard and felt something sniffing her. "Tell me little kit, who told you to make that claim? Who is your uncle?"

Olwen heard hardness in that voice.

"Claye." She felt the voice pull back.

"Claye," it chuckled. "There's a name I haven't heard in many years, and would explain your claim. Well, knowing your uncle, I think he'll be here soon enough."

"You know my uncle?"

"Yes, I know him. When I was younger I used to ask him to --"

"Mother!" the younger voice said.

The older voice chuckled again. "And he always said no."

Olwen felt a warm cup being placed in her hands.

"Drink this Olwen," the younger voice said. "You are past the worst effects of the venom and the antidote. But, you're still weak. This will help you regain your strength."

Olwen sipped the cup. It felt wooden in her mouth. The broth in it was warm and had a bit of a bite of vinegar. It was not unpleasant. She drank it down, and handed the cup back. She laid back and began to drift to sleep.

"My uncle was a demon?" She said.

She felt a hand caress her forehead. It had the same strange feeling of short fur and skin that the arm had.

"No, little kit." The older voice said. "We marched with the demon," it finished with pride.

--------------------------

Claye rubbed the worn rounded top of the granite post. His hand was wrinkled and spotted with age. The name "Robinea" was still visible. His arm shook slightly with the weight of the leather and steel armour he wore.

"You remember John," he said towards the post. "That was one of his granddaughters." He traced a finger around the pale blue crystal set into stone. It began to glow. "I'll bring her back." A circular wall of light began to form around him. "By the gods I hope without paying the price that we paid." The wall of light closed and vanished, taking him with it.

A pillar of light appeared in a field. Around it was brush and bamboo. As suddenly as the pillar of light appeared, it vanished. Standing there was a young man. He settled the pack he was wearing and took a couple of stiff steps, like an old man. He stopped. He looked at his hands. They held steady under the weight of the armour. "Well, this is unexpected." He finished walking, fluidly, towards a bush. Around the bush were pieces of clacker shell. They had long been picked clean by scavengers. He frowned. He picked a piece of denim off one of the pincers. He looked up at the walls and towers of Ojaveda in the distance. Concern shadowed the determination on the now young face of Claye.

--------------------------

Olwen heard the curtain rustle. She turned her head on the hammock. "I can sit with her a while mother," a young male voice said. "You can take a chance to eat"

"Alright," Cali said. "I won't be long."

Olwen heard someone sit down next to her.

"I’m Clinormant," he said. "I brought you in from the fields."

She turned her head towards his voice. "Thank you."

"Where are you from? I've never seen an ylian quite like you before."

Olwen sat up. "I'm from Ottawa, Canada."

"Ottawacanada, I don't think of I've heard of it. What level is it on?"

"Level? It's not on any level."

"It's in the stone labyrinths, then?"

"Labyrinths? It's not in any labyrinth. What are you talking about?"

"You must be... From beyond a portal." some excitement entered his voice. "But those are just myths."

"Labyrinths, portals, levels. I have no idea what you're talking about."

"So, you know nothing about Yliakum?"

Olwen shook her head. "I didn't even know it existed."

She heard Clinormant exhale and a chair creek.

"Where to start... Yliakum is a stalactite, in a giant cavern, hollowed out by the gods. At the top of the vault is the azure sun, a large crystal. There are eight levels. At the bottom two are the lake. Up from there is The Shore and Land's End with the great falls of the Irifon and Radiant rivers. Then there is the Forge where all the workshops are. Then the forests of the Far Grounds. Then the Barn which grows part of the food. Lastly is the Dome, where we are. The Dome is where much of the food is grown and has the capital, Hydlaa.

"In the walls of all the levels are openings into the rock. The largest are here in the Dome. These are closed by the great bronze doors. Some of the smaller caverns lead to other levels. Others just go deeper into the rock than any have traveled, those are the stone labyrinths.

"Deep within the labyrinths, so the legends go, are the portals. These lead to other worlds. It is through these portals that the gods brought all the races to Yliakum, except the kran and the lemur. The kran were created by the god Talad, and the lemur by Laanx."

Olwen laughed. "The sun isn't a crystal. It is a giant ball of gas that only looks like it moves because of the rotation of the earth."

"No, it is easily seen at night." There was the tone in his voice like someone talking to someone denying the obvious. "When the crystal dims you can see it, and the rock around it."

Olwen smirked at the thought of his primitive beliefs. She heard the sound of the curtain moving. "Besides, it is all natural forces like evolution and erosion and tectonic movement. The gods do not exist."

 Clinormant took a breath to speak.

"Careful little kit," The old voice from before said with a hard edge to it. "Such words will get you in to trouble. Sometimes only with the octarchy." the edge faded from her voice. "Your uncle told me that in your land magic doesn't exist, nor do gods. But you are in our land now. Here they do. As you will eventually see. I do suggest that you hold your tongue on such matters till your uncle arrives."

Olwen crossed her arms and pouted. It was the tone and the language that she had heard from her parents many times before. She did not want it here, where ever here actually was.

"Little kit," she continued gently. "You'll have to adjust to things around here for awhile. Your uncle will be able to help you when he gets here."

"If he ever does," Olwen said.


--------------------------

Claye looked up at the fading light of the Azure Sun. He had spent the remainder of the day since his arrival looking for Olwen. He hadn't turned up any leads except the scrap of fabric where he had arrived. He hadn't eaten since before he had left. The searching coupled with the extended day left him hungry. He would have to find a room for the night. He started back towards the main gate and the inn that was there.

The light faded faster than he was used to. Soon he was walking in the dim light of the crystal, supplemented by a few torches. He walked past an alley. Four dark shapes swiftly moved out of the shadows and surrounded him. A metallic glint showed that all four had pulled daggers. Claye looked around at the four of them.

"Well now, what 'ave we 'ere," the one in front of Claye said.

"Ain't no guard, since he ain't carrin'," said the one to Claye's left.

"Company deserter," rumbled the one to Claye's right, a kran by the shape and size. "Tell by the armour and the crest."

The one behind Claye giggled.

"Well then there'd be a bounty for you then." The first one said.

"Don't recognize the crest though," the kran rumbled.

The one behind Claye giggled again.

"That makes it simpler." The first one said again. "We take the armour and anything else you have. Then we'll roll you into the river."

The one on the left leered. "Don't kill 'im too fast. He's kind of pretty lookin' and it's been awhile since the last one."

The one behind Claye giggled again.

"Anything to say before we eventually slit your throat?"

"You're holding your dagger wrong," Claye said with irritation.

"I git 'is boots," the one behind Claye said as he rushed forward. The arm with the dagger was extended forward.

Claye shrugged out of his pack and side stepped. As the thug behind him tripped over the pack Claye grabbed the extended wrist and twisted. He struck with his other hand breaking the forearm. The dagger dropped from the hand. He caught it as it fell releasing the wrist. The thug fell sprawling to the ground. Claye turned, his arms wide. The armour on right arm blocked the dagger of the thug in front of him. The dagger in his left hand cut an ever deeper downward diagonal across the chest of the thug to his left. The dagger in the kran's hand just missed his back. As the one thug folded up around his chest Claye reversed the dagger, and stepped forward. There was a whuff as the dagger punched into the first thug's stomach and up through the diaphragm. Claye pulled the dagger out. The kran started to swing at Claye's head. Claye backed hard against the kran, inside the swing of the dagger. Claye drove the dagger into the kran's knee and left it there. The kran fell back and to the right.

Claye straightened up and rolled his shoulders. The three still alive moaned as the pain of their injuries burned through the shock of having received them. He wasn't breathing hard as he picked his pack up. His hands shook as he reached for the pack. He looked at the kran.

"The Company was commonly called 'The Demon's Men'."

Fear began to fill the kran's face. "But he... They..." He stammered.

Claye put on the pack, turned, and continued back to main gate.

Later, he walked into the inn. The conversations stopped as everyone turned to look at him. Claye walked up to the bar and put the pack on the floor. He pulled some tria out of a pocket and slid them across the counter. "Something to eat, beer, and a place to sleep."

The barkeeper looked at the tria and then up at Claye. "Another four gets you the floor here, once they go home. Another ten gets you a room and a bed."

Claye nodded, and slid eleven across the counter. "And a bucket of hot water."

The barkeeper nodded and slid the tria into his hand. The conversations in the inn resumed. He poured a pint of beer and placed it in front of Claye. "You just missed supper. But I should be able to put something together, if you don't mind it cold."

Claye shook his head. "Food is food. It's better hot. But it won't be turned away when it is cold."

The barkeeper went back in the kitchen. Claye turned around and leaned back against the counter. He looked out at the crowd and wondered.

[steuben]

Author's notes:
The first 14 or so pages of a project I`ve been chewing on. I figure I should release the first bit into the pastures. Feel free to comment. Especially if I've mucked up a bit of the setting or a passage isn`t clear.

[Kodron]

Awesome read  I loved how the line between our world and Yliakum was blurry at first, the events that lead to the present state of the story slowly unravelling as the text progresses. Love to see more of this!

[steuben]

Olwen heard the curtain rustle.

"Hey,” Clinormant said. "How are you?"

"Bored," Olwen said. "Wondering when I can take this blindfold off, wondering when I can go home, wondering what my friends are doing." Olwen sat up in the hammock.

"Grandmother thinks maybe the day after tomorrow."

"For the blindfold or going home?"

"For the blindfold. She has the guards of Ojaveda watching out for your uncle."

"And if he doesn't go to Ojaveda?"

"Word has gone to the guards in the other cities. If he goes there he'll be sent here."

"I'm glad somebody thinks he's coming."

"Why do you doubt that he'll come?"

Olwen flopped back. "Because he hadn't come yet." She turned her head towards Clinormant. "I'm going to be here a while. Tell me about these gods of yours. "

"There are two, Talad and Laanx. Both are young gods. Yliakum was created by both of them under the guidance of Vodul. While exploring they found our world. On it is a giant crystal obelisk that penetrates deep in to the earth. They followed it down and found an immense cavern. They hollowed out the stalactite at the end of the crystal and expanded the top. They redirected rivers, laid down fertile soil, and set loose many animals. But they did not have any worshippers. They asked Vodul to bring them some. Vodul agreed in exchange for their service. However, it would be many, many years before they would arrive.

"They served Vodul faithfully. Then Vodul disappeared leaving only a message for them to wait for his return in his palace. But, they grew impatient and returned to Yliakum. When they came back they saw that there were still no worshippers there for them.

"During their time of service to Vodul, Laanx had learned some of his secrets. She took the energies of the crystal sun and created the lemurs, the first race in Yliakum. Something they have always been proud of. I think annoyingly smug about.

"Talad saw this and marveled at it. He gathered the energies of the crystal to try it himself. But he either didn't know the secrets or didn't have the control that Laanx had. The magic went wild. A portion of the magic struck Laanx in her face destroying it. She fled in pain and rage. The remainder struck the rocks and created the kran. They have since been very loyal to him.

"Laanx fled deep into the cavern outside the stalactite, beyond Talad's reach. Some of the lemurs followed her. There they build the city of Kadaikos. She decided that since her beauty was destroyed that she would forsake all of her femininity. He then began to wear a mask to cover the scars."

"Wait," Olwen said. "So Laanx got her face blown off by Talad. And then she decides to become a guy?"

"Yes. I know it is strange but the gods have mysterious ways.

"Okay..."

"Over the next centuries Talad sent him messages to try and get him to return. But he has yet. However Vodul did deliver on his part of the bargain. The remaining seven races were guided here through the portals by him."

"Nine races?" Olwen tried to wrap her head around it. There was no such thing as races, only people.

"Ten actually. After the kran and the lemur were created the dermorian, klyros, nolthrir, diaboli, stonehammer, ylian, and enkidukai. Thanks to the power of the crystal the ynnwn were born here, a blending of the diaboli and dermorian."

"So there are ten countries in Yliakum?"

"No, we are all governed by the octarchs and his vigesimi"

"Ten provinces then."

"Provinces?"  Clinormant thought about the word for a moment. "I don't know what a province is. But, there are eight levels; I think that is close to what you mean. Each of which has its own vigesimi."

Olwen frowned. "Tribes or clans then."

"No," there was a bit of frustration in his voice. "For the stonehammers there are two clans, and there are the six packs of enki. I'm sure the other races have similar groups."

"That's not what I mean." Frustration coloured Olwen's voice as well. "Race is a stupid concept used to segregate and oppress people."

"No it isn't. It is a plain and simple fact."

"There is no such thing as race," said Olwen with righteous certainty.

"Yes there is,” Clinormant said. The chair scraped on the floor. The curtain slapped the wall as he left.

--------------------------

The next morning Claye sat at a table eating some fried sausage and bread. He looked up two guards walked in. he slowly chewed the sausage in his mouth as he watched them talk to the barkeeper. He nodded towards Claye. They walked over. Claye kept his hands still on the table. He continued to slowly chew the sausage.

"Lieutenant Claye of the Viscosan Regiment," the one on the left asked.

Claye took a drink from a tankard of water. He swallowed to clear his mouth. He placed the tankard down, but did not release it. The one on the right looked vacant. But, Claye noticed that he watched both of Claye's hands.

"I was released from the regiment," Claye said. "Some time ago."

"Perhaps," the one on the left said. "But that is not our concern, right now. Mistress Aliisha has requested your presence."

"Mistress Aliisha," Claye said thoughtfully. "How is it that a former solider came to the interest of the head of an enki clan?"

"I do not comment on her methods, but it is sufficient that she has interest. However, she said to give you the following message. Claiming his kinship can be dangerous these days."

"Only dangerous to those that cannot back the claim." Claye gulped down the remainder of the tankard. "Let me get my gear." Claye stood up and picked up the remainder of the bread. "Don't be too disappointed," he said to the guard on the right.

As Claye walked out of the main room he heard, "no, but he'd know it was a fight afterwards," from the other guard.

Claye walked into the audience room. At the head is seated an old female enkidukai. She waved gestured him forward. He stepped forward, the two guards right behind him. He stopped short of the chair. He bowed on one knee. "Greetings mistress," he said in enkien. "May your clan be fruitful and prosperous in the field and in the hunt. You honour me with the privilege of your presence."

The enki chuckled. "You honour me with the old forms in the old tongue. Many of the young ones would do well to learn the forms at least." She chuckled again. "But your accent has grown thick, and your enkien was always bad Claye." She stood up from the chair and walked over to Claye. "You may rise."

Claye stood up. "It has been a while since I have had to speak it, Ali. How have you been?"

Aliisha gestured the guards and attendants away. "Well, I wouldn't have thought being head of the clan would suit me. But, we have done well. How are you? Is Robinea with you?"

"She died, several years ago."

"I'm sorry."

"Thank you. It has been long enough for most of the pain to heal." Claye shook his head, "I probably didn't take it as well as I could have." His face clouded in memory. "With the mess that I was... I'm glad I had good friends to help me through."

Ali placed her hand on his shoulder. "It is always good to have friends. And family."

"Yes." He shook his head again. "Speaking of family," he said brighter. "It sounds like you have found my wayward niece."

"Yes," she turned and began to leave. "Come, she is anxious to see you."

He chuckled as he followed her. "That wasn't her opinion when she arrived on my doorstep."

"Take Lieutenant Claye's items to Calikoh's," Aliisha said as she walked by one of the attendants. She continued by without waiting for the "yes, mistress" in response.

"A problem with her parents?"

"No. Just the usual of someone wanting to be a grown-up while still a child. Her parents had to go on a trip without her and she thought she could look after herself."

Aliisha shook her head. "She doesn't look that young."

They stepped outside into the bustle of the streets.

"They grow up slower back home," Claye said. "They don't have to grow up fast, like we did." He gestured around him. "Or like they do."

"No, some things have changed since you left." Aliisha turned her head towards him. "The Octarchs have risen to power, some forty years ago. There is peace. Only bandits prowl outside the walls." She looked forward again.

"And the companies?"

"Most are gone. Those that remain provide protection for caravans against bandits and wild animals. It is still a dangerous world outside the walls. But, they operate at the octarchs' pleasure.

"He had a hand it at the end. A pebble that changed the course of a river. Without him, and the companies that listened to him, they would have lost that battle. The octarchs have not been foolish people. They know what their rise to power was based on. They knew it then, and they know it today. They keep a tight leash on the companies because they still serve a purpose."

"Him, a pebble?" Claye chuckled. "A great stone when he stood in someone's way. How did he fare with the changes?"

"Made a general before the end." She shook her head. "Presumed killed in his last stand."

"I can't imagine anything short of a god taking him down... Even then..."

"No one who scries the death realm or this one can find him. So maybe Dakkru laid her full claim. But, there have been occasional rumors of a traveling smith with exceptional sword skills. Those of us who knew him hope he's still out there.

"What he bought though was peace and unity. The octarchs encourage a Common language, a common script, the guards aren't corrupt, neither are most of the leaders." She gestured around at the market place they were walking through. "We have a chance for prosperity. And not just us every city in Yliakum." She paused and smiled. "Sorry, a habit I've gotten into. There are some even now that chafe under the octarchs' yoke. We traded some freedom for our security."

Claye thought back to the towns and villages when he was here last. They were all hunched in. Any stranger was feared and mistrusted. They were, as often as not, someone who brought violence and death. Ojaveda was dim, grey and worn despite the beige wash on the buildings. He blinked and looked around. The walls were a bright beige tinted blue by the sun, patched but cared for.

"Back home someone once said, 'those who trade security over freedom deserve neither.'" Claye held up a hand to forestall comment. "What he didn't say, and I've learned over the years, is those who value freedom over security have neither." He turned his head and looked back at the crowd in the marketplace. The crowd was filled with young people. "All they see is the yoke. They don't see the furrow behind them. If this is an example of the octarchs' rule, then he made a good choice."

"A good one, but there are better ones out there," Aliisha said nodding. "They don't know what it was like. The gods willing, may they never know." They walked through one of the side gates. "Sometimes I wonder if it will be the right choice in the future."

"That will be the future. For now it is the right choice. And if the octarchs are half what it sounds like, than it might be the right one then."

"And other solutions if not?" Aliisha said carefully.

Claye frowned. "That is always a solution. But, if it is a least worse one depends on the problem, and those making the choice." Claye closed is his eyes for a moment. The memory of burned villages, sometimes with his hand on the torch, came forward in his mind. "But, Yliakum would burn. You know this. You know what it would mean."

"Yes, I do Claye." She smiled. "It is good to talk to someone that understands"

They walked past green fields. "How many days has it been since you found Olwen?" Claye said changing the subject.

"This is the sixth day. She spent three days asleep with fever. A reaction from the clacker venom and the antidote."

"That bad?"

"As bad as any I've seen, and I treated yours. We should be able to take the blindfold off tomorrow evening."

"She hasn't seen anything?"

"Not really. She was pretty far into the effects of the venom when she got here. You think there will be a problem?"

They walked into a group of houses and a small shop clustered around a well.

"Maybe. We don't have races as you understand the term, or even as I understood the term when I first came here. Some of the other races have a different connotation attached to their appearances."

"It is good that you are here then. I think she will need all the help she can get to make the adjustment."

--------------------------

Olwen woke when she heard the sound of the curtain moving.

"Good morning little kit," the old female voice said. "I have a visitor for you."

"Who is it?" She said, trying to wake up.

"Your uncle," said a male voice.

Olwen sat up. She wanted it to be her uncle. But the voice was slightly different. It was younger. But, it had the same kind of tiredness to it. She frowned. "You sound kind of like my uncle but you sound younger."

"Yes, I thought that too," the old female voice said. "The years have been much kinder to him than me."

"Until yesterday, they had been greatly unkind," he said. "Some whim of the gods I guess. How can I prove I am who I claim I am?"

Olwen hadn't considered the question. She thought for a moment. She her thoughts kept coming back to the cliché of a trick question that her uncle would know, but her hosts would not. "What did I say after my parents ... Rode off in... their wagon?”

"You complained about how there was hardly any cell service there," was his quick response. "And it wasn't a wagon, it was a blue sedan."

"Uncle, what's going on? Who are these people?  Where am I? How did I get here? When are we going home?" Olwen blurted.

She felt a hand placed on her shoulder. It had the familiar human feel to it. It squeezed gently and released. She heard a chair pulled over and it shift as some sat in it.

"Olwen," Claye said, "you've probably asked and been told about Yliakum."

Olwen nodded.

"I'll leave you two for the moment," the old female voice said.

"Thanks Ali," Claye said.

"Probably not much more that I can add, until the blindfold comes off tomorrow."

"How did we get here?"

"The crystal in the marker. Many years ago Robinea and I traveled here thanks to it. Somehow you managed to activate it."

"So it is possible to go home?"

"We made it back didn't we? If the way hasn't closed over the years we can get home."

"If it has?" Said Olwen with concern.

"Then we find a different way. There are many paths into Yliakum, we just follow them back. We'll start back when you're able to travel. It's going to be a long walk."

"Walk? You didn't drive here?"

"Drive?" Claye said puzzled before he remembered she hasn't seen anything. "We're not in Kansas, Toto. We have to get to a portal back to Earth first. Then we can drive back if we have to."

"Back to Earth? We’re on some planet on the other aide of the galaxy. We have to find a spaceship that will take us home. And on the way we have all sorts of exciting adventures?"

"In some other planet, actually. But, sorry no spaceships. And if we are very lucky no exciting adventures." Claye thought back to the four thugs last night. "But, I don't think we'll be that lucky."

Olwen heard something in her uncle's voice. "Who are these people?"

"Family of a good friend. Aliisha, who just left is head of one of the packs... Clans of enki here."

"They seem nice enough, but are they as backwards as they seem?  They believe in gods, that the sun is a giant crystal, they even enforce the concept of race."

Claye chuckled. "Race isn't enforced, it simply is. And don't forget it wasn't that long ago that the concept was considered seriously back home. There isn't a better word to describe things here though. Species might be better if it wasn't equally as wrong. It like that bar scene, in that one movie... where they are buying transport on the Million Flagon, or something like that. Where that one guy keeps hearing 'choose the fourth one, Luke'"

"It's 'use the force, Luke', and we're surrounded by a bunch of scoundrels and villains?"

"No, by a bunch of aliens."

"But you said there aren't any spaceships. How did they get here?"

"You've been told about the portals?"

Olwen nodded.

"That's how."

"If they exist, then so do these gods. Why not just ask the gods to send us back."

"I wish it worked that way. Besides I suspect the cost would be too high. It was high enough without their help."

Olwen shook her head. "I don't understand."

Claye chuckled. "Don't try just yet. Just accept. There will be more to have to try to understand, and it will be easier when you can see."

"Uncle, you're sure this isn't like some sci-fi movie."

"Yes, very. It's pulp fantasy."

[steuben]

Claye met up with Aliisha after supper. She sat on a bench outside in the cooling night air. He sat down beside her. "How much have things changed? The roads down to the forge are still open?"

"Yes," she said. "Still rough, but better traveled than back in our day. Though I have heard word that a cave system has been mapped that can take you from near Hydlaa to the forge, near Berrihm."

Claye shook his head. "That's a third of the way around from Himduahr. I'd lose anything I would gain."

"Why there?"

"About half a day from there is a cave.  Within it is a portal to the death realm."

Aliisha shuddered. "The death realm. Why would you want to find a way into there?"

"Because there is a portal to home in there."

"There must be another one somewhere. You know that something watches that realm closely and is jealous of all the souls sent that way."

Claye shrugged. "There might be. But, it was a guess off a hunch even to even find that one. Needs must --"

"When the devil drives." Aliisha finished. "I know what you mean when you say that. But, I never understood the phrase." She turned to look at him. "Claye, why didn't you come back, even if only for a little while."

He looked up into the dim light of the crystal. "We thought about it. But, every time there are was the price of our return home. It was too high to pay again, if there was a choice. I paid it to keep a promise to her father and for her. After Robinea died, I considered it. Even if I wasn’t going to come back… " He looked towards where Olwen was sleeping. "But, I'll pay it again for her."

--------------------------

"Close your eyes before I start to take the bandages off," Cali said to Olwen.

Olwen nodded. She felt the bandages loosen and be unwound. Two pads of felt fell off her eyes. She felt the last of the bandage be pulled off.

"Don't open your eyes yet," her uncle said. He placed a hand on her shoulder. "Whatever you see, don't panic." she felt her uncle shift.

"Open them slowly," Cali said.

Olwen opened her eyes. She saw the beige wall at her feet, yellowed by the light of an oil lamp. She looked down at the blanket covering her legs. The blurs of colour focused into a simple geometric pattern. She followed her uncle's arm. He looked as young as he did in the two pictures on his mantle. They had been taken just before and a little bit after his only trip abroad, he had told her. Claye moved to one side keeping a grip in Olwen's shoulder.

In a chair sat, with the bandages folded in its paws, a large cat. Claye gently squeezed Olwen's shoulder. It had similar colouring to a cheetah. She saw that rather than the usual cat body it was closer to human. The head though it was very cat like.

"Good evening, Olwen," Cali said.

"Good evening, Cali," Olwen said. "It is good to see you."

Cali chuckled, "it is good to be seen." She stood up. "I'll leave you two. I think there may be more you need to talk about."

As the curtain moved Olwen caught site of rough rock outside the room. Claye released Olwen's shoulder. He walked around and sat in the chair.

"What was that?" Olwen said.

"That was an enkidukai, enki for short. And someone who helped to look after you the past week."

"Are all the other races like that?"

"For the most part. The klyros have wings and have rather different look to them."

"How did you get used to it?"

"I believed in the concept of race, black being a different race from white. White different from yellow. Like most people in my youth, to greater or lesser degrees. From there it was a simple leap."

"Why didn't you ever tell anybody about the crystal, this place?"

"Would you have believed me if I told you last week. When I came back they would have locked me up in the loony bin. No one asked, and I never told."

"What did you do while you were here? Aliisha said you had marched with a demon."

Clay closed his eyes. He took a deep breath. Memories of blood, steel, flames, and screams came back to him. He opened his eyes. "I was a solider in a mercenary company, The Viscosan Regiment. We were among the best. Arguments were made that we were the best. Usually shortly before a brawl broke out.

“The demon was our leader. Well that's what he was called, he was a man like most others. He was a strong warrior, an even better solider, and a truly gifted smith."

Olwen looked at him with horror and disgust. "You killed people for money?"

"A bad reason, true. But a better reason than most." Claye leaned forward. "It was a different time. There were constant battles between various warlords. It was a way to survive until we could find a way home." Claye say back in the chair. "And things were getting better."

"Violence never makes things better." she said. "It never solves problems."

"No. It is never the best solution for a problem. Back then it was just the least worst."

--------------------------

Olwen slowly climbed up the ladder. Cali stood at the top and looked down. Claye followed close behind ready to catch her if she slipped. They climbed up into a flagstone floored room. The walls were a white washed plaster. Pale blue light streamed in through a window.

"Very good, kit", Cali said. "You’re getting your strength back nicely."

Olwen straightened and took a deep breath, as Claye climbed up behind her. He stepped around and walked to the door. He opened it and looked out.

"You'll have to shield your eyes a bit." He said. "It's a bit brighter, than down below."

She walked to the door. She flinched in the bright light and squinted. She looked up, shielding her eyes with her hand.

"But, I thought it was just a primitive belief." she said. "Just a metaphor for something."

"No," Claye said. "It is pretty much just as you were told."

"But..."

"I heard a story once," Claye said. "A student once said to a teacher, ‘How silly those people long ago were, thinking that the sun went around the earth, when obviously it is the other way around.' 'Yes, perhaps,' the teacher said. 'But, I wonder what it would look like if it did.'"

--------------------------

The jeweler looked at the two rings, and the gold band. He tapped a gloved forefinger on the table. The fur over his eyes was worn by the arms of the glasses that hung down around his neck. There was a similar wear around his left eye, the loupe the second of the three items hanging from his neck. "Hmm... I don't recognize the smithing marks. But, the gold marks a bit better than your claim. Hmm... The stones, are a better cut than I’ve seen in a while. Hmm..." He stopped tapping his finger and looked at Olwen standing impatiently by the door. He looked at Claye sitting calmly in the chair opposite him. "But, there is you. Those who can afford such as these, don't need to sell them. Hmm..." he started to tap the table again.

Claye shrugged. "They were my grandfather's. He got them fighting in the companies before the octarchs."

The enki nodded. "Hmm... So you say. And there is her. Hmm... Two young people looking for money, selling their bobbles. Hmm... Will there be an angry father or another suitor that would cross my door looking for her? Hmm..." He chuckled at Olwen's shocked expression.

"Only an angry father if I don't get her home. And no suitor that I'm aware of given the complaining that she did a week ago."

"Hmm... So you say. Then there is how you want the tria. A quarter of it in tria, the rest as a trader's note. Hmm... So many things slightly different from the usual." He stopped tapping his finger and looked Claye in the eye. "1500"

"I could get that from the beggar at the gate. 3500"

"No beggar that. Leave me to with something to get meat for my kits. 2000"

"Your kits look old enough to hunt on their own. You could sell these for four times that. 3300"

"As is? I'll have to recast the gold and reset the stones. Take me weeks. 2500"

"Weeks? I heard you were among the best in Ojaveda. You could have it done in two days. They'd be lined up to look at it, and fighting to buy it. 3000"

"Among? Ha! I am the best. 2700"

"I heard that too. 2700"

The jeweler started tapping his finger again. "Hmm... very good. 600 with the balance in note?"

"That will do well."

"Yeschant."

"Yes, master?" A young lemur poked his head around a curtain in one wall.

"600 tria, and a blank note," the jeweler said to him.

"Yes, master." The apprentice pulled back behind the curtain.

Claye raised an eyebrow in interest.

"Hmm... I know. I was surprised too when he asked to apprentice. Hmm... But he learns, and works hard. So I can't complain. Hmm..."

The apprentice brought a small leather purse that clinked when it settled on the table and a sheet of parchment. The jeweler pushed the purse towards Claye as he reached for the quill and ink. Claye opened the purse and counted put the six hundred tria. The jeweler turned the parchment around. Claye nodded as he read the amount and signature on the sheet. He slid the tria back into the purse as the jeweler poured a dollop of wax on the sheet and pressed a seal into it. He folded it in thirds, the seal on the inside. He slid it across to Claye as he stood up.

Claye tied the purse to his belt. He picked up the note and tucked it into his jacket. The jeweler picked up the rings and handed them to his apprentice.

"Hmm... A pleasure doing business with you."

Claye bowed slightly, "and with you." He turned and left the shop with Olwen behind him. She cast a quick look at the lemur before going outside.

"What was that?" she said after they had gone round the corner.

"That was a lemur. One of the first races." Claye said.

They walked along the streets towards Dsar Kore.

"The ones created by Lannx?"

"Yes," Claye nodded. "Usually they are more concerned with more refined things and scholarly pursuits than the trades." Claye shrugged. "But if he's happy and productive, I can't really argue against it."

They stopped in front of a blacksmith. "But, let's get you kitted out. We have a fair ways to go, and a fair bit to get." The ringing of a hammer on metal came out, every third note clearer than the others.

"How far?" Olwen said.

"About nine days," he said as he went inside.

The stonehammer inside looked up from the anvil. His beard was braided in two plaits and had been thrown over his one shoulder. "Yes?" He said between hammer blows.

"Two daggers. A smaller one for her and one for me." Claye said. He broke his words between the sounds of ringing metal.

The stonehammer picked up the piece of metal, half a breastplate, off the anvil. He turned it over and looked at the other side. He ran a finger along the four inch weld in the center of the piece. Claye frowned when he saw the weld. Anything that would have left a cut like that in the metal would have killed the person inside. The stonehammer noticed Claye's concern.

"He survived. Took a couple of healers a few hours to bring him back though. Figures he might get full range of motion in his shoulder back." He picked up the piece and placed it back with the rest of the armour. When he turned, the beard was shown to be plaited down his back with the rest of his hair. "I'm Enlagsson. So, two daggers. You want them now or later?"

"I'd prefer them now. But, let's see what you've got, and we can work from there."

Enlagsson looked Olwen up and down. "Okay miss, let's take a look at your hands."

Olwen walked over and held out her hands. He turned them over a couple of times. As he did an iron grey ring on the little finger of his left hand caught the light. He looked over at Claye. "Will she need a cross or a full shield?"

"Cross, the blade about the length of her hand, hand and a half," Claye said.

"Easy enough, I have a couple of blanks that can be worked easily to size. Would be... " He looked at Olwen's hand again, "a hand and a bit. Leather cord for the grip? Balanced for both hands?"

"Yes."
 
Enlagsson walked over to Claye. "I have a feeling that you might be more interesting." He looked at Claye's hands. "Hmm, I can see some faded calluses." He looked up into Claye's eyes. "Yes... Full shield?"

"No. Cross as well. One of the arms extended into a loop to the pommel, except leave the bottom open Smooth surface.  For the blade, one edge straight the other curved to meet it. Both sides given an edge. Roughly eight or nine inches long."

Enlagsson milked his chin with his thumb and forefinger. "It's an odd shape. But doable. The shield will risk bending in."

"If I need to use it that way then I won't be in much of a mood to care about it." Claye said with a smile.

"Two days, 440."

Claye nodded and counted 200 tria out of the purse. "The rest when you are done. We'll be back around midday tomorrow to check the fit."

Enlagsson dropped the tria into nearby box. "Midday. See you then." He nodded and picked up an arm piece from the pile of armour on the table. It was nearly cut in half.

Claye stepped into the street. He considered the next purchase they'd have to make.

Olwen followed. "Why would I need a dagger? I don't have the first idea on how to use it."

"You hold on to the dull end. Then you try to stick the sharp end into the other guy." Claye turned towards the general market district. "I'll teach you the basics. It is a dangerous out there, and it is a useful everyday tool."

"I don't see how."

"You will." Claye looked down at her slippered feet. "Yes, boots and clothes next."

They walked back towards the center of the market district. They stopped in front of a clothing store. Claye walked in. The elderly ynnwn looked up. His skin was heavily wrinkled and dark red. His horns curled up and back into his long white hair. Olwen paused and stepped back from the doorway.

"What can I get you today?" The ynnwn said.

"Travelling clothes and a solid pair of boots," Claye said. "Comfortable but hard wearing."

"For you," the ynnwn nodded and smiled towards Olwen. "Or the timid one there?"

Claye looked back, "the timid one."

The ynnwn came around from the back of the counter. "Come forward child. Let’s get you sized up."

Olwen stepped into the shop. The ynnwn lifted one if her arms. "Okay, I should have a couple of things that are hard wearing that should fit." He turned and went into the back.

"What is that?" Olwen whispered to Claye. "It looks like some kind of devil."

"That is a ynnwn." Claye whispered back. "They only look like that because of our history, not theirs."

The shopkeeper came back out.  He laid some shirts and pants on the counter. "Hard wearing I can do. Comfortable I can do. Both is tricky. But, a good set of under clothes and you should be good."

Claye walked over and looked at them. Claye looked at the shirts. They were leather and simply made. He pinched and rubbed it between his thumb and forefinger "tefu or goujah?"

"Tefu. The trapper brought them in last winter." The shopkeeper shrugged. "I seldom have call for this style. But something whispered to me maybe I should have a set done."

Claye looked at the seams. They had been closely and double stitched with a thick thread. The lining was a light fabric.

Olwen walked over to a dress that was hanging on the wall. It was beaded in pastel swirls.

"The dress is cotton," the ynnwn said. "It would be something nice for the festival."

Claye turned to look at the dress and back to the shirt. He picked it up and held it up against Olwen. "Okay." He held the pants against Olwen. She frowned and shuffled away. "A little bit long, but it will work."

The ynnwn nodded. "Cotton under clothes as well?"

Claye nodded. The ynnwn pulled a short shirt and a pair of shorts of a shelf behind him.

"A second pair of shorts," Claye said.

"Yes, yes, good thinking," the ynnwn nodded. "The missus, may she rest, always said such things came as a surprise." He looked at Olwen's slippered feet. "Well, given you're getting these, you'll need a solid pair of boots."

He went into the back again. Olwen looked at the shirt and the pants.

"They're pretty plain," she sniffed. "And leather besides. Some poor animal died for it."

"There aren't many options, and there aren't any synthetics around here either. These will save you from a lot of scrapes and such."

"And these won't do?" She gestured at the clothes she wore.

Claye shook his head. "They'll shred the first day out."

"It's not like we'll be wandering around in the wilderness."

"Wandering, no. We will have a direction. But, it will be wilderness And it will be easier if you don't have to hold your pants together."

The ynnwn came out of the back of the shop. He placed a pair of boots on the counter. "They’re smallest pair I have. But, they are made company style."

Claye picked up one of the boots. Have turned it over in his hands.

"Goujah," the shop keeper said.

“Not quite what I remember. But, it has been a while since I’ve seen a new pair.”

“True. The style has changed in the time of the octarchs. These came from a supplier for a few of the companies based here.”

Claye nodded. “Many things have changed.” He placed the boot on the counter. “How much?”

“200 for the lot.”

Claye looked at the dress on the wall and at Olwen.