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« on: January 24, 2017, 12:47:46 pm »
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.
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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.
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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.
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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.