"Time´s End (chapter 1-new)" by Nicoline Badenhorst

They landed near the coast. Iand Delain was the last to leave the craft, making sure the invisibility shroud was activated... they didn’t want animals tinkering with the sensitive equipment... Captain Rydenhall had advised them beforehand only to take as much as they could comfortably carry through rough terrain, but of course you never knew what you’d need in these unchartered lands... fresh underwear, for one thing.

They travelled for two days due north along the coastline, slightly wary of the dark, looming forest that threatened from a mere fifty paces to the west. Pictures of their red desert home country welled up from unbidden depths to contrast starkly with the green wilderness. Finally, Rydenhall, after thorough observation, decided time was ripe to venture forth into the unknown. He advised his crew of six to stick close together. One last time, he surveyed his men. There was Iand Delain, his right hand and interested in absolutely everything- dangerously so. He would be most likely to get carried away by the whole tedious adventure. Then Deeven Gibbs, expert on geography and geographical phenomena, a wizened, gaunt man with dangerously tanned skin. Heather Und, one of two women, responsible for the provisions and healthcare. Igland Perney, the pilot and weapons master. Nirna Langde, the communications officer and secretary. Finally, Yandon Jennes, expert on micro- and macrobiology. Given this crew, they should get on top of any problem they might encounter.

In the late afternoon of the forth day, they set up camp in a clearing. The men felt strangely threatened by the trees, and some had complained of a headache early during the day. The sensitive Nirna had said she had felt something like a barrier, a strong electrical current or a similar magnetic influence. Rydenhall put everything off to weariness of the constant vigilance and strain due to the uncomfortable lighting and ordered Heather to dispense medication against the symptoms. He planned to go on early the next morning to prevent brooding. In the whole four days, they hadn’t seen anything living besides each other and the military blood in Rydenhall was getting restless for proper action.

The crew woke up half an hour before sunrise, as planned, and Rydenhall went through the morning’s briefing, the group of weary humans listening rather half-heartedly. Suddenly, he spotted something behind a tree out of the corner of his eye. He turned slowly to take a closer look. It was a girl. When she realized she had been noticed, she stepped out from her hiding place boldly and hissed something at them.

Rydenhall smiled, said, “Hello.”

The girl was too startled to react immediately. Distrust shone brightly in her eyes, but she remained where she was. Rydenhall sighed.

“How long until the translator gets to work?” he asked Delain.

“Well, sir. We haven’t had much chance to test it properly…”

“How long?”

“A day?” Delain looked doubtfully at his commander. Seeing his dark looks, he quickly added “With more information, earlier. Maybe if we could get her to talk…”

Rydenhall sighed yet again, trying to make clear to his men that he was a troubled, much burdened man. At the age of sixty-two, he was supposed to have retired long ago, but they had brought him back for this last assignment. He turned back to the girl. She was clothed in tight-fitting garb, coloured in earthy colours. The trousers were low-cut and looked comfortable enough, held in place by a simple, unadorned belt; the blouse was open at the neck, but didn’t reveal anything untoward. Not that there seemed to be all that much to reveal in any case... She was small, almost tiny by Sictem standards. He wondered if she was grown. Maybe yes, for who knew under what conditions these people lived, maybe no, for she did not look like someone used to a hard life, though she was strong, tanned- how disgustingly common-, undue exertion had brought a shine to her smoky eyes and flush to her cheeks that only accented the crudeness of her features. Everything, from her auburn hair to her thin lips and soft, curving nose suggested a peasant upbringing, but worst of all was the clay-cast quality of her face. Pictures of golems sprang to mind- strong, brutish, unintelligent. Unimportant.

Nevertheless, he tried to look friendly and talked slowly, hoping against hope that she might be able to understand him. “My name is Collain Rydenhall. Who are you?”

She looked from him to the other members of his party, taking her time assessing them. Then, as if to herself, she nodded. A strange sensation flew over Rydenhall. It was almost as if he could hear the sounds of a harpsichord played in the desert of his home country. For the first time in a while, he didn’t feel threatened by the giants of trees, the like of which he had never before seen. Instead, he felt harboured, safe. Then a disembodied voice spoke –spoke? more like sung- transmitted mind-pictures to him.

“Who are you?”

Involuntarily, a whole avalanche of mind-pictures appeared in his mind –some he recognised as his own memories, some as those of his team members. After a while, the pictures abated, leaving his head whirring, like toothache. The sense of music stopped. Rydenhall felt as though someone, or something, had, for a time, shared his soul, a strange sensation that he did not wish to feel again. He preferred keeping his soul, his memory and especially his emotions to himself.

The girl half-turned, creased her forehead impatiently. Delain quickly gathered up the translator and commanded: “Now, all of you, get moving. Didn’t you hear? She wants us to follow her.”

The team members shook their heads as if to clear the mist out of them, gathered up the camping stuff and dazedly followed the girl to a path, where a horse stood waiting. The girl took the reins and, with a graceful movement, was in the saddle in a split-second. Frequently turning to see whether they still followed her, she led them up a moderately steep trail to a castle in the distance. Halfway there, another rider, a man, approached at a canter.

* * *

 “Don’t you dare worry me like that again! I thought you’d fallen and… What the hell is going on?” Robin scolded the girl, his girl.

She didn’t answer until she had almost reached him. “I came upon them in the woods. I don’t really know who they are and what they want. They’re not Confs, that’s for sure. And there’s something else- I found them inside the Banning.”

“How could that happen? I thought it was airtight?”

“How am I to know! Do you think it might be breaking?” Her forehead creased in worry, but, to Robin’s perpetual amusement, this gave her crude features a certain charm where more beautiful faces would have been marred.

“I know better than to try it out. Well, if it’s breaking, Ashathorin should know. When’s the next Calling?”

“Midsummer. Robin, six weeks are too long... we’ll have to find another way to know for sure...”

They rode next to each other in silence for a while, and then Robin murmured: “You know, for a second, I thought you had fallen on a stone or so. These races are reckless…”

She looked at him with something like mirth in her eyes. “You notice only now. Don’t you think Aure would have gone for help?”

“True.” After another while, he added. “So have I won now?”

“Don’t you think that was an unfair win?”

“No. I won. That makes it fair.”

“You think.”

“Well then, what about my prize?”

“No fair race, no prize.”

“Never mind. I’ll find out anyway.”

They had reached the castle and Lanouri dismounted, leading her horse the last few yards on foot. A stable hand met them in the courtyard and Lanouri gave her the reins, giving Aure a quick pat on the behind. Then she nodded to the strangers to follow them up into the castle. On the way to the throne room, Lanouri stopped a runner. “Tell me, where is the governess?”

“Adalia is in the throne room. She already awaits you.” The runner cast a quick glance at the company. “Oh, so that’s why you’re late…”

“I’m sorry. Thank you.” Lanouri nodded to the runner and continued her way up to the throne room.

* * *

“Where do you think she’s taking us?” Rydenhall asked his assistant with some trepidation. After all, did any of them know these… savages living in castles in the middle of all wilderness, clothed in mere crude linen were not … cannibals or sadists?

“Why, to her… leader I think would be the correct term. Didn’t you listen?” Delain replied distractedly. His focus was on the walls instead on his commander’s petty worries. “Most astonishing… this must be the work of a highly crafted civilisation… or it must have taken generations to complete… Take a close look at the way the stones have been set together; I’d say the masons did it entirely without mortar and yet there is not a single crack! He had stopped to examine the handiwork of one of the heavy curtains closing the hallway to the elements. “No glass in the windows and yet the temperature in here is pleasant-fantastic!” Their guide had stopped as well, gazing at Delain with bemusement. Catching his eye, she made a commanding gesture and they continued.

“Listen? Did she say anything understandable? Has the machine worked?” Rydenhall demanded in a whisper, afraid the translator would give him away.

“No.” Delain replied confused. “Now that you mention it… I thought I remember her saying something, but the more I try to focus on her exact words, the less clear it becomes…” His voice trailed off as his attention was directed to the decorations- intricate carpets on the floor isolated the feet from the cold stone, paintings on the walls depicted what he assumed to be scenes from a varied and conflict-rich history. Every few steps, candles burned in niches, decorated with strange markings. Everything seemed to serve a purpose, but was never functional only. Iand imagined that the paintings could serve as a reminder of history to countless generations... how astonished was he when he observed a painting slide aside to reveal another passage, through which came a group of servants!

They had obviously arrived at their destination, for the girl softly knocked at a huge wooden door- to the strangers almost unbeknown luxury, since wood was a scarce commodity in their arid homeland. The group entered, the strangers with no little apprehension. The hall behind was enormous- held in cool blue and green hues and with cushions literally stuffed in all places. It was almost empty, save for a tiny wizened woman surrounded by fourteen women of all ages and types. Rydenhall was reminded of the legendary harem of the Emperor, except that there was no man here to whom these women might have belonged.

What was noticeable was the difference in garb. Compared to their guide, these women dressed with care, though a degree of practicality was evident. Most women wore dresses, long, flowing, well-suited to the hot weather, but a few did wear trousers and blouses, though the choice of colours was less drab.

* * *

The governess sat in council when they arrived. Hers was a strange office, for she held the most power in all of Marin, yet, faced with the severity of the Marin customs and rules, it would seem she was the weakest of them all. She was neither a true queen with absolute power, nor a true governess, for she had no voice that others did not have. Even the least skilled servant had more right to question her decrees than she had in giving them. In a sense, she was both the highest authority and a mere puppet that danced to the wishes of others. The strength of the woman who could unite these contradictions in herself and yet emerge victorious! Once again, Lanouri felt her insufficiency profoundly.

“Lanouri. There you are at last!” Adalia’s wrinkled face creased even more when she smiled. “Now where might my two lovebirds have been?”

“Adalia!” Lanouri tried to look scandalised, then, softening, she added: “I’m afraid I bring trouble- I found these in the forest- inside the Banning. I’ve tried to bind contact, but all I get for my effort is a messed up picture. I’ve never seen anything the like, and I’m not able to make sense of it. All I know is they’re not Confederates. Maybe you should try…”

“Thank you. I think I will.” Adalia nodded, closed her eyes to concentrate all the better. After a few seconds, she opened them again, surprised. “I fear you are right. Have you tried single contact?”

“No. I just sent a picture that I was going to take them here and hoped they’d understand.” Lanouri explained. Seeing the governess trying to get up from her seat, she dashed to help her up.

“Thank you my dear. Now with whom should I start…?” She asked as if to herself, looking at each of the men closely. With unerring surety, she picked out the youngest of the group- a man maybe in his late thirties, with black hair the like of which none had ever seen on their continent, pale skin only priests of the Confederation had, but not with the taint of magic about him… Extraordinary.

Smiling reassuringly, Adalia stepped in front of him, reached her hands, palms on top, out to him. Mesmerised by her gaze, the man laid his hands on top of hers. They stood, the woman fragile in body yet strong in wisdom, the man full of youthly strength, still ignorant of the secrets the world had to offer, locked in silent parley. The hall was heavy with tensed silence.

When Adalia disengaged from the man, Lanouri was already standing next to her, anticipating her governess’ weakness, to lead her back to her cushion. Once seated, Adalia nodded at Lanouri, gesturing her to take a seat as well. While the man answered to the quizzical looks of his companions, Adalia explained to her own subjects.

“These men are… well, something similar to historians from another place beyond the ocean. They found out, by means that are not entirely clear to me –the picture was strange beyond words- that there is land beyond their own. They decided to come here and find out whether there was wisdom to be gained… well, and here they are. As to why and how they managed to break the Banning –yes, we shall have to check on this- I am not certain. I’ll consult with the priestesses, maybe even Ashathorin. For the time being, these men shall be welcome in our halls.”

“You trust these strangers?” A councillor inquired without malice.

“Yes. At least the one I bound contact with seems fairly innocent. He communicated that they had a means to make our words understandable in their tongue, but the way is inconceivable to me. We shall see.” Adalia concluded. “For now, I’d have you agree with me that it will be Lanouri’s task to look after the wellbeing of our visitors.”

Lanouri nodded. “I shall do my best. I trust you and Robin have much to talk over. I’ll leave you now.” She got up with her usual graceful movements and signed to the strangers to follow her.

As she lead them up into one of the towers, the man tried to catch her attention, talking in his strange, but not unpleasant, though little harmonious, language. She shook her head to show she didn’t understand, but he persisted. Lanouri wondered what was so important that it couldn’t wait until they got to the guest rooms. Sighing exasperated, she stopped and held her hands out to him, palms up, and tried to bind contact in the same way her governess had done.

To her surprise, it was as easy as the ordinary contact. Though he was unpractised and many random thoughts crossed into her inquiry, she could communicate fairly well.

“Is something amiss?” she asked.

“My, this is a strange feeling…her hands are so rough… Could you talk to me in your own language? It will help our –“ –a picture she didn’t recognise- “to work faster.” Feelings of anticipation mixed with wonder, excitement reached her.

“Yes. You can come with me after you have settled in your rooms. I have been informed you seek knowledge- we’ll start with a sight-seeing tour through the city proper...”

The rest of the way, Lanouri mulled over the strange happenings that had cut so ghastly into a promising morning. She admitted guiltily to herself that she was not very happy about the recent events. She had looked forward to a short holiday, sweetened all the more by Robin’s presence.

“Well. Here we are. I don’t see the sense in talking to someone who doesn’t understand anyhow, but I’ll do it just to humour you.” Lanouri opened the curtain to the hallway to reveal a flight of rooms, most of them interconnected. She leant against the frame and waited for the strangers to settle. She didn’t have to wait long.

The man said something in his language, along with gestures that seemed to indicate that he was the only one coming.

“Oh, I see. Now, maybe you’ll at least tell me your name?” He looked questionably at her, realising she had posed a question, but of course unable to reply. “Sorry. I forgot.” Lanouri thought quickly. She had never been in the position of not being able to communicate- whenever words were not enough, there was always mind-contact... though she thought of that as a temporary, rather distasteful solution.

She pointed to herself, pronouncing her name as clearly as possible. Luckily, he understood.

“Iand,” he replied.

“Well then, off we are, Iand.” She nodded towards the corridors. She slipped her hand into his, binding light contact and providing pictures to go with her explanations about the details of the castle. A feeling of excitement, thankfulness reached her.

“Now, where to begin?” she asked, automatically sending the picture along with the words. Then she grinned. “I know where...” To keep it a surprise, she refrained from sending anything and rather just led her strange guest up the endless-seeming stairs to the east tower. She loved it up here, where there was nothing but a cool breeze, where the myriad of sounds of a fully populated city were dulled if not muted, where she could feel as free as she could ever be.

When they finally stepped out into the open, Iand instinctively clutched her hand. Feelings of unease, if not the slight twang of fear reached her. She smiled, slightly amused.

“Don’t worry, it’s safe. It stood here the last four hundred years, and it will do so for at least as long still.”

She turned around, taking a deep breath that almost got stuck in her throat when she spotted a figure on the battlements. “Mae! What the hell are you doing there? Come down immediately!” She hurried to the battlements and jerked down a woman of maybe thirty years. Mae slumped into her arms. Lanouri hauled her up and shook her. “What on earth are you thinking, dancing on the battlements? Are you insane? Do you want to get yourself killed, or what?” Lanouri started pacing back and forth in front of her.

“I’m not a little child, Lanouri, don’t treat me like one.” Mae retorted.

“No, you’re not a little child, Mae. But you’re blind.” Pictures of a body, crushed below them on the hard, oh so hard, stones of the courtyards haunted her now still. And it could have been her... oh no, she didn’t want to lose her best friend, and to a stupid, useless game at that.

“So? What difference does that make? Why do you want me to feel useless?” Mae stared hard at where she guessed Lanouri to be and shook her head. “And I thought you understood me.”

“Please at least try to understand me. I don’t want to see you in danger. Please don’t listen to them. Please don’t let them tell you you’re only worth something if you’re strong and brave and fit in... don’t let them break you like me.” Lanouri’s voice cracked with the forbidden, suppressed emotion.

“And what if I’d like to be strong for a change? What if I want to fit in? You don’t know what you have. You don’t even care, do you? You have never felt what it is like to be me. How can you dare judge me?!” With that, she made her way insecurely to the door and down the stairs. Lanouri gazed after her, stricken. “But I have...” she whispered.

Finally, she remembered her guest. Shaking off her sorrow, she stepped up to him where he stood, looking down at the city of Marin and unobtrusively clinging to the battlements. She slipped her hand back into his and sent a somewhat dulled feeling of reassurance.

“I think it’s time to show our beautiful city to you, now that you’ve seen its full grandeur...”

Iand laughed.

There was the impression of a vast desert, the sensation of flying not entirely comfortable. It would be over soon, thank goodness. The great flying monster set into the landing motion and the city spun into view: grey, monstrous, a cancerous growth in-midst the red desert sand, defying, daring all that would oppose it. It seemed to pulsate with the malicious intent of swallowing up the entire desert, as though insatiable. By the looks of it, it was.

“Ok, I’ll take that back. I suppose we can’t compete with that...”

She cast a last, almost mourning look at the city sprawled out below her, the streets set out in neat circles about the castle in a design she supposed did not cater for more than the current twenty-five thousand citizens... not that she’d care for the hulking, dirty city she’d seen in Iand’s memory...

As soon as they left the tower, Iand relaxed again and random thoughts once again crossed into their telepathic conversation. Even with her strict control, Lanouri was beginning to feel weary from the strain of maintaining the link. Her skin already lost some of its usual colour and healthy shine as she struggled to lead more and more of her vital forces into the link. Finally, when her hands shook with that accursed weakness, she gave up. Iand looked at her with surprise, then a dim worry when she severed the link. She drew herself up, took a deep, relieved breath and, still shaky, shook her head. “Enough for today. You’ll be getting a culture shock if you’re not careful.”

Iand’s face was blank. Of course, she cursed herself, he couldn’t understand a word! She nodded into the general direction of the guest quarters, which seemed to make him understand, though he obviously was quite disappointed. Lanouri frowned when a new, disturbing thought crossed her mind. He should have been as weary as she was, should have felt the same irritation at having his privacy so crudely invaded. Telepathy was all fine –for half an hour’s light conversation. Sudden anger flowed through her. How could anyone endure this invasion, let alone enjoy it?! For a split second, she wanted to turn against Iand, claw that unnaturalness out of him. Lanouri shivered. She recognized the symptoms –just a natural reaction to the stress she had put her soul to, she kept telling herself until she felt herself calm down.

They reached the guest quarters and Lanouri quickly linked again. “I’ll fetch you later on. I need to work.” Before Iand could even form a response, she was off, leaving him with a hazy impression of “later”. Whenever that would be. Iand shrugged and went inside, barely noting that there were curtains instead of doors and a small bell to announce visitors. Well, if he’d done the planning, he’d have reserved the valuable wooden doors for the important rooms too, and kept the rest as charmingly informal as it was done here as well... no, not true, he wouldn’t have thought of it before he’d seen it here.