Down, Down, Down (Closed)

[Cydnar]

Down, Down, Down (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q_g3pT8nac8)

2520


Closed to In The Vastness of Stars.

A cornucopia is no cure for this,
No healer has great divine might,
Such squandered time on healing our hopeless,
Yet the Tree is far from right.

Such feelings born, such succulent sights!
Castrated memories falling asunder,
Turn your head to avert the blaze,
Let’s fear His righteous thunder.

‘He sought damnation’ – a hero’s epitaph,
His charred remains his blackened reprise,
Succumb to fear and in fires you’ll die,
Conquer fear and from the flames you’ll rise.


The Legend of the First Salthias

[Cydnar]

Lands change to suit their people. Sometimes the people change to suit their lands. Alerar was such a place. It was a wild untameable landscape brought to obedience only by the harsh hand of its machine bearing masters. Great sky ships ploughed through the mists to capture the stars, proffering their builders up on towers and pedestals. Heavy gears ground steel in the dark, pushing time itself to the very limits of its potential. In all of this change however nature remained king.

“I do not like this sickly scent,” Cydnar said softly. He wrinkled his and swiped his flaxen hair from his brow. The air was tainted with almonds and rotting fish, magic's incense.

“You are not supposed to be enthralled by it,” Dalasi retorted, chuckling as he continued his advance through the sparse covering of trees that clung to the cliff face. The lofty heights of the mountains were broken up into multiple platforms. Each forested alcove was a new discovery, trees and shrubs lost to all knowledge living in secrecy far from view. Their branches hung perilously over the edge, losing their fruits and berries down into the dense forest canopy below.

Their journey to the surface had been uneventful, but out in the evening light the world burst into action. The Council had risen from its slumber in a flurry and Cydnar had promised to investigate the disturbance in Althanas’s magical fields personally, if only to sedate their worry. Looking out over the immense horizon of Alerar, his ancestral home, Cydnar was struggling to find the enthusiasm to continue. He leant against the trunk of an ancient oak and ran his fingertips over the haggard bark. It felt like withered skin, and smelt of burnt ash and wet dog.

“I am growing tired of being the Council’s hound.”

Dalasi stopped in his tracks and turned on a nimble heel. The swordsman rested his hand on the hilt of his sabre and cocked his head with a questioning glance. His tight fitting leather armour cracked and shimmered as the sun shone over his shoulders.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Cydnar curled his lips with a smile.

With a deep breath the Salthias pushed away from the oak and approached the edge of the overhang. The dense moss underfoot put a spring in his step and momentarily lifted his spirits. His brother knew him all too well, to the extent that Cydnar suspected the lithe swordsman possessed gifts unseen. Flocks of birds flew sleepily from alcove to alcove, their cries distant whispers on the wind.

“If you grow pensive we will be out here searching for an age,” he rolled his eyes and looked back over the endless green expanse. “Whatever caused the Council to rise from the dark embrace of sleep is out there, in the company of behemoth, stalker and night ghost.” Dalasi hated the Red Forest with a strong passion, its inhabitants stronger still.

Keening his gaze, Cydnar scrolled over the tapestry of orange, gold and deep red tree tops. Autumn was setting in with vengeance, even in Alerar where the seasons were lost to the façade of agriculture and industry. With a passing thought he skipped over the rising shadow to the east that marked the location of a Drow city and continued until the forest disappeared behind the verges of the cliffs.

“It must be odd not being able to hear the world scream when it is hurt so maliciously,” Cydnar mused. The pain in his own heart mirrored the cries of Althanas to its caring, loving tenders.

“It’s invigorating actually,” Dalasi said chirpily. He let go of his sword and stretched with a long, drawn out sigh. Unlike his brother he was not of the Salthias and possessed no scent for magic and the evils it did in the hands of mortals. “I am not eternally reminded, eternally haunted by my duties.”

“A sword for hire with honour as his only chain,” Cydnar repeated the mantra of Dalasi’s warrior caste as a form of agreement. The two brothers scanned the horizon together one last time, eyes tiring in the difficult transition between sunlight and the red glow of their infravision.

“You speak of the old ways as If you understand them brother?” Dalasi’s youthful glamour faded, replaced with a mask of distrust.

Cydnar stopped his search and Dalasi caught the look of concern. Feeling guilty, he cut the rising argument short. With a satisfied look on his gaunt face the Hummel pointed to the very edge of the forest. There, rising from the darkened forest climbed a newly formed plume of smoke that drifted up through the conifers and apple maple. Whatever had burnt itself into the surface of the world was ablaze once more. Perhaps the smoke was its death throes.

Cydnar shuddered, considering the possibility that the smoke was an awakening song.

“The only thing I understand Dalasi is that we are more alike than you think.”

This was the truth in Cydnar’s eyes. All Hummel, regardless of their caste or their calling were bound to one simple fact. They were children of Yrene, the World Eater, and they were given life to fulfil his wishes. His wishes, before he had died in the caverns of the world in conflict were simple. Cydnar recited them to confirm his next action, to confirm the sacrifice the Thayne had made to trap Xem’Zund eternally from the world.

“Cleanse the world of all magic that threatens to destabilise the Balance.”

Dalasi nodded, realising that his brother was sorry but unable to admit his guilt. The recital of the Lore was admission enough for the young warrior, who cradled the hilt of his sabre with greater love and affection to steel himself against the unknown.

“Bite the hand that feeds the flame of corruption.”

They rested in the silence of the last light of day together until the radiant sunset fell from view. The resplendent shades of violet and orange turned into deep swirls of grey and black, mirroring the strange colour of the Red Forest. Stars poked through the cavernous roof of the world and reminded the elves that somewhere out in the infinite expanse of the multiverse, they were not alone. Humbled by the power and beauty of nature they turned to face one another.

“Are you ready to find out what new danger awaits our people?” Cydnar asked with a stern determination laced between his syllables.

The chill of the approaching night crept under the dark purple and black robes that both Hummel wore. Weighing up the choice between a long trek and a potential battle or dwelling in the cold, both Hummel contemplated their course of action. Though Dalasi did not answer as quickly and with as much excitement as Cydnar might have liked, when the answer came he felt relieved. He cared for his brother more than his station allowed. If he had not been the Council’s Chair, the High Salthias of his people he would have wept with joy, laughed and drunken till the stars fell from the sky.

“Let us go. Be on your guard.”

He did not know how ironic his thoughts and wishes were. As they set off along the ridge around the width of ember mahogany trees and wove through thickets of brambles and mulberry bushes they both whistled an old folk tune. Juxtaposing their young potential with the venerable aeons of the long thought extinct trees, they sang loudly so their song bounced down the crags and fell into the leafy top of the forest. If they had not been so wary of whatever burnt to the north and called their advance as loud as they could, their words might’ve pierced the rock and gone deep into the world.

The dwarves of Kachuk would have worked harder and longer under the grace of the Snake Thayne’s kin.

“Once more from the top,” Dalasi said buoyantly.

Cydnar chuckled, his eyes peeled for danger and his heart slowly coming to life with heavy, turgid beats. His thoughts remained on the stars and the day when he could finally see the collapse of the heavens and the world end through the bottom of a crystal glass with his family and friends by his side.

That day was going to come sooner than he expected.

Three leagues away the sky had fallen.

[In The Vastness Of Stars]

"What're ya doin out here again, Blake?" the question came from the tangled mess of red facial hair otherwise known as Donovan. The dwarf had a hard time climbing the rocks that stood no real problem for me. Ever since Donovan and his team of dwarven woodsmen rescued me from the Red Forest, I had been going out towards the border of Alerar and Raiaera nearly every day, checking for some sign of my previous life. There had to be a trace of The Runaway out there somewhere.

"Same thing I do every day, Donovan," I replied without thinking about my references to popular culture, "trying to take over the world." When I realized what I had said, I gasped and turned to the dwarf, who merely laughed as if I were telling some sort of joke. Donovan had seemingly taken a liking to my persona, it was the only way to explain why the little guy followed me everywhere I went, rather than supervising his fellow woodsmen. Then again, I suppose one does not require much supervision when the criteria for a good job is 'make sure the falling tree doesn't hit anyone'.

My name is Captain Blake Andrews, I am the captain of a starship known as The Runaway. Under mysterious circumstances, I somehow wound up on this world, a world Donovan simply called 'Althanas'. This world was like something out of a pasty faced teenagers fantasy books. Elves were a common species, there was a war in another country constantly being fought, and nobody took a second look at people who resembled cats. All that was missing was tons and tons of half naked girls as an attempt at fan service. In the two days I had spent on Althanas, I came to learn everything I could about Alerar and Raiaera. After all, I woke up in the Red Forest, and it stood to reason that my ship probably crashed somewhere in either of those countries.

My exploration exploits had met with unprecedented failure most of the time. I would go out into the Red Forest for hours, looking for some sign that something may be askew, but I would always return with no more knowledge about my ship than when I first found myself on this planet. If I could not find The Runaway, I had no hope of finding my crew, and without a suitable crew to fly the ship, there was no way I was ever getting off of Althanas and back to the my primary mission of space exploration Furthermore, I felt as if my very existence here was violating one of the tennants of Imperial Law. 'One must neverinvolve themselves with the matters of an underdeveloped planet', taken right from the Captain's Handbook. Every day I was still on Althanas was another day my technology put these very people in danger.

It was not until the fourth excursion (and by proxy, the fourth day) that I found a clue, and a huge one at that. Me and Donovan had made the same trip around the forest, taking yet another new path in hopes of finding what remained of my ship, when we made it out into a clearing. I could see the black smoke billowing in the distance, a cascade of darkness enveloping a pristene blue sky. Why had I not noticed this before during one of my earlier trips? The only answer I could come up with had terrible ramifications, and I began to run down the hill, straight towards the source of the smoke with all my might. After all, it looked like it was only a few miles away, and my training to be captain prepared me for long hikes. I straightened my borrowed leather armor, and listened to Donovan's little pitter-pattering feet waddling behind me.

"We have to hurry," I shouted back to my temporary friend, "before the quantum capacitor overloads and ends us all!" I was certain that even if Donovan knew what a quantum capacitor was, he'd still look like somebody smashed his face in with a ton of cement blocks. I had no time to explain, the first priority was The Runaway. And if I couldn't get to it in time...

Well, God help us all.

[Cydnar]

The hanging gardens soon faded away into nothingness, replaced instead with a dense environ of tree trunks and low slung branches. Boughs wavered in the wind to block Cydnar’s path, and the Hummel’s blade swung to and fro to cut vine and tendril out of his advance.

Dalasi simply stood back and watched his brother struggle, too incensed with humour to be of any use.

“Of all the troubles you’ve faced, nature is still the greatest foe you’ll meet.”

Cydnar stopped to tuck his silver hair behind his elongated ears. From his expression, Dalasi concluded that he was extremely close to overstepping the mark.

“Forgive me, it’s just I seldom see you come undone. It is not that I wish to see you thus, more, I am enamoured by your sudden mortality after holding you in such high esteem all these years.”

Cydnar scowled, and arrived at one simple conclusion, which he voiced loudly.

“I hate the surface world…”

The Red Forest was not like other woodlands of Althanas. It started immediately, throwing away tree line and a steady increment in favour of a sudden sprawl, wild and dangerous and crimson. The five pronged leaves of the evergreen trees wavered in a gentle wind as they carved a path towards the plume of smoke.

“The Red Forest is not the most hospitable of lands. Do not judge the world for this small pocket of madness brother.”

Cydnar cleaved a long thick tendril of knot weed in two and kicked the falling length to one side. He made a silent prayer for the activity, as the twilight beneath the Red Forest’s canopy was cool and uncomfortable. Sweat beaded down his forehead and ran along the ridge of his nose.

“I have seen enough of the rest of Althanas to know that I will be grateful when I return to the welcoming shadows of the crystal cities.”

They continued through the knotweed until the forest gave way for just a few hundred feet. The wide dirt trail before them wound through pine trees with deep red needles and oak trees covered in three feet wide fungus. The juxtaposition between jungle and idyllic forest boardwalk caused both brothers to pause for thought. Cydnar traced the small shapes of poppies and lilacs fraying to and fro around the foot of each ancient tree trunk and smiled.

“Perhaps I will come around to it one day in time.”

Dalasi, ever the jester patted Cydnar on the back and walked on ahead. His lithe form, devoid of excess weight from the heavy robes of the Salthias made quick pace along the path. Cydnar watched him shrink into the distance before sprinting after him, the tips of his blades narrowly skimming the dry dirt and each rotten branch as he leapt over them nimbly.

“I thought this place was full of behemoths and creatures larger than giants?” He asked Dalasi as he caught up, breath short and sharp.

“Oh, give them time. They are watching us. If we don’t make quick time to the smoke signals no doubts they’ll give us cause to quicken our pace.”

Cydnar furrowed his brow. He did not like the sound of that, and he encased his thawing heart once more – Althanas would have to do much more to get him on side. He set his mind back on the task at hand and his duties, and rested a sweaty palm onto the hilt of Freya to steel his concentration against distraction. They continued their advance along the long abandoned forest trail in silence, their song long behind them, their buoyant strides heavy with distance and caution.

[In The Vastness Of Stars]

I found myself being lead by my senses the further down I went into the Red Forest. The smell of the smoke was guiding me, if not making me cough a bit. Part of my training as a Captain taught me what to do in case of fires namely get everyone out and then get the hell out of the area. I do believe this was the first case in which a Captain was heading -towards- a starship that was possibly ablaze. I could still hear Donovan behind me, coughing more than me. Perhaps if he had distributed his muscle mass a bit better in his youth, his hefty form would not be having such trouble keeping up.

Though I jest, I found myself amazed with how quick the little dwarf was, only following a few paces behind me. Perhaps it was his intricate knowledge of the forest, where he knew what route to take for the shortest, route, or maybe he was more skilled than he let on. Either way, Donovan the Woodsman was not somebody that the young starship captain should underestimate. Soon, the smell of smoke grew accompanied by the sound of machines, cogs turning, steams being exhales, even a few beeps and whistles for good measure. The destruction that The Runaway had caused, as well as the sounds of the machinations tearing through the forest reminded the space soldier of a nature documentary he had once seen during his school years. Fern Gully, he believed it to be called, though he had never run across any talking bats, Blake and the rest of his students were indoctrinated with the belief that woods held fairy-like creatures, and the deforestation of their natural habitat would result in man's eventual downfall. This documentary was why the 'Natural Habitat Peace Treaty' was signed in 2087. Reminiscing about his youth brought a smile to the face of the man.

"Stop!" Blake looked down to the commanding voice that had come in front of him. Somehow, Donovan have maneuvered his way ahead of the Althanian Alien, and was pointing his axe towards two shadow figures in the distance, lithe figured who seemed to move with a certain grace about them. Blake raised an eyebrow and looked down at his friend.

"What are those things?"

"About the worst thing you can come across anywhere on Althanas. They're manipulative little good-for-nothin's is what they are," Donovan swung his axe a few times, a few practice swings in case something horrible happened, "Get that blade of yours ready, Blake. If these are what I think they are, then they're gonna try and use their devil-tongues to dissuade us from continuing. Otherwise, they'll probably let us pass." Donovan spit onto the ground in utter disgust of the thought of these mysterious forms.

"But....what -are- they, Donovan?"

"Hummel."

[Cydnar]

Dalasi noticed the strangers first. Though both brothers possessed keen senses, Cydnar had grown too reliant on his ability to sense magic in the fabric of the world to see the plain hidden right before his eyes. The tall elf waited, his long silver hair straddling his back as sweat and heat took its toll, his heart racing at the prospect of confrontation. He was a soldier at heart, and unlike Cydnar, he held no fondness for diplomacy.

“Do not raise suspicion brother, but we are being observed by humans.” It was a blunt statement, but Dalasi was a blunt sort of individual. His flat words would have toppled the crimson trees and vermillion oaks that encroached onto the narrow trail if they had been given form.

“I see them, though I am thankful one of us is paying attention.”

They continued to walk towards the smoke trail; the two strangers in the distance grew larger as they came across a strange cacophony of magical noises. Electricity was not something that had been developed in any form on Althanas; it was the light in the sky in the heart of a storm and the tingling of the static between cloth and slipper but no more. Neither Cydnar nor Dalasi, in all their infinite wisdom knew how to describe what they were hearing.

“What are they?” Dalasi whispered into his brother’s ear. He patted him on the shoulder and then let out a far too obvious laugh, to give their shadows the impression of ignorance. He could make out one tall figure now, and one considerably shorter and squatter creature standing next to him.

Cydnar keened his gaze, ducked under a low lying branch laden with strange purple fruit and chuckled with more sincerity. “That is what you might call a dwarf.”

Though Dalasi was well travelled he often traversed the surface of the world to kill silently, wage war or organise the troops under his limited command. He seldom afforded himself the time to live amongst the people of the surface world, nor indeed the other races that lived like the Hummel beneath the crust of Althanas. The dwarfs were one of the few people of the world that knew the Hummel existed and indeed, where they resided beneath the mantle.

“Our element of surprise is lost, as will be our air of mysticism.” Cydnar knew all too well that the dwarf no doubt knew who they were.

Dalasi’s confident stride over the dry tail faltered in his surprise.

“They’re a lot…shorter than I imagined them to be.”

Cydnar shook his head and let the palm of his hands slip away from the hilts of his swords. He began to walk and weave through the low branches like a traveller enjoying the not so open road through the idyllic wilderness of the Red Forest. Though they were no doubt identified, they would not allow such a simple problem to come between them and their duties.

“Do not speak unless you are confident you can remain calm brother.” Cydnar gestured for the swordsman to go in front. “Do not draw your weapon,” he peered over his shoulder and placed the strangers six hundred or so feet away through the trees. “Most importantly of all, remember why we are here. Perhaps, just perhaps, this devastation that we have fallen upon can be used to our advantage.”

He pointed casually to the area around their observers, at the half felled trees in a long line that came down to the earth as if a comet had ploughed into the surface of Althanas. Flames still flickered and danced around embers of leaves and branches still smouldered in the absence of their foliage. It trailed away to the east, disappearing into the thickness of the red forest’s heart. Little birds danced between the ruin, twittering and singing over the strange noises which emanated from the rising smoke and the thick scent of burnt soil and magical corruption.

Cydnar steeled himself for diplomacy, even as the scent of the magic burnt his nostrils; it reminded him of burning oil and aniseed, of long forgotten corpses and urine.

“Greetings fellow travellers!” Cydnar allowed his usually hollow voice to take on some substance and friendliness and he shouted just loudly enough for his voice to carry the distance to the strange duo ahead. “Is everything alright?” His common was not as fluidic or warm as he might have liked it to be in this circumstance, but he smiled and waved and hoped the situation to unravel calmly, lest he regret having to commit murder in Alerar’s ruby forest.