Land of Sky, Land of Rain (Chapter Nineteen, Part B)

Litha, which we reach late in the afternoon, is almost like a miniature Chiren, but rather more... bookish is the adjective I decide on, after a moment of thought. The buildings are laid out along cobbled streets of relative cleanliness, bustling with people of just about every description, though almost all are burdened by a handful of heavy-looking books. There seems to be a library every few streets. The Ealymians evidentially have a fondness for glass windows, something I haven’t seen much of since the golden city. There’s at least one to each house, glinting in the light of the slowly falling sun.

The greatest of the libraries, probably headquarters to the Head Scholars Iarin mentioned, towers grandly over the rest of the buildings and the commotion, as though untouched by such worldly things as streets and buildings and crowds.

“Th-this way,” says Iarin, “T-towards the Library of Science.”

Well, that makes sense to me.

The Library of Science is in the east corner of the city, and a huge mess of people are chatting on the steps, queuing at the door, shuffling papers and books in their hands, and shoving their ways through the doors. One of them looks up and waves to us.

“Iarin! Hi!” he says.

“Oh, h-hello.”

“What brings you here?”

“I-I’m looking for someone named Kael? Sarracorian descent, m-maybe... thirty years old? H-have you seen him?”

“Maybe...”

“Flying machine?”

“Oh. Yep, he’s inside.”

“Th-thanks.”

We all head into the library, which is even more impressive from the inside. The books, all of which are bound in the same simple, stark white material, are arranged on shelves literally three times my height, all around an immense mahogany staircase leading up to more shelves, and another, three floors in all, and between them all an unimaginable amount of books, both new and ancient, many thousands more books then even the number at Koreth’s tower in Yoake...

I don’t want to think about that place. I’m not going to dwell on it. It’s... it’s not healthy, that’s it. Trying to forget it is better for me. Easier, too. To help distract myself, I snatch a book off the nearest shelf and open it to a page about halfway through. I sink to the floor, trying to get myself to read while Iarin goes off to look for Kael, Attaraya walks back and forth, eyes wide and jaw slack, and Sae finds a seat near a table, eyes on the ground and looking strangely out-of-place.

The top of the page begins in mid-sentence.

“...no valid explanation meteorological explanation for this strange phenomenon of endless rain. Credible Hanoran scientists have tried very hard to test the many theories that have arisen about this odd weather pattern, but no conclusive evidence had been found. The prevailing sentiment among civilized scholars is that deposits of magical energy which collect above the area are drawing in the rainclouds, but there is not adequate equipment to work with this hypothesis.

As for the western barbarians themselves, they claim to have their own way of explaining the region’s never-ending precipitation, but this theory is highly steeped in their polytheistic legend and primitive culture, as they are an unenlightened people, and science still remains a foreign concept to them.

“Sareilian myth has it that at the dawn of time, there was no such thing as the endless rain because there was no such thing as the Earth. The legend claims that Earth was created on the whim of a child goddess, Amami, who lost control of her powers when she was kidnapped and separated from her mother.

“Believers in this story claim that said mother, Ama, realized that in order to bring her daughter back, she would have to leave the new world to fall apart, its inhabitants to die. She decided to spare them, but was sad at the loss of her daughter and wept. These tears are supposed to fall to the ground of the western regions as rain. Barbarians claim that someday she shall somehow loose patience, send for her daughter, and cease her crying. The world, having fallen out of Ama’s favor, will thus end itself.

“However, there are no specifics, and no tests of this theory have ever been carried out. The ideas of the rain-worshiping, primitive masses of Western Terra are thus to be disregarded. It is to be remembered by the reader that the wisdom we Hanorans are blessed with has not yet reached the Sareilian, who remains in a dark age of underdeveloped thought and absurd superstition.”

Yeesh. What did the Sareilians ever do to this guy?

I flip to the back of the book to see that– surprise, surprise– it was written by a Hanoran author. Apparently, this guy lives in Chiren, and the tome in my had– a science textbook– is ridiculously popular in Hanoran secondary schools. Yeah, no indoctrination here. Sure.

I’m about to shove it back onto the shelf in disgust when I see Sae, standing, like, an inch behind me and staring at the book with wide, dark eyes.

“Er... hi there,” I say.

When Sae doesn’t answer, I say, “Doesn’t it make you mad? It’s like everyone’s against you. What a stupid book.”

“I don’t understand.”

“How can you not understand? It’s printed in big, bold letters!”

Sae stares at me, looking a bit confused. Then, as if realizing what I’m going on about, she says, “Oh... the book?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Oh. Can’t read.”

“Huh?”

“I can’t read.”

“Really? You can’t?” Then again, I guess I there never was anybody around to teach her. I wonder just how common illiteracy is in this world. I think Iarin once said that one of the generals back in the time of Irim Kuarth couldn’t read... but that was like, thousands of years ago. As for now, well obviously Iarin knows how to read, it’s all she ever does, and Attaraya says she’s been to school.

“Hang on,” I say. I lead her over to the table a few feet away, with paper and pens neatly set up in a bin in the center. I take one of the pens and, after a few moments spent figuring out how to work it, write down the alphabet, as neatly as I can manage. Before I can say anything, Sae takes the pen from me and tries, with utmost caution, to copy a few of the letters. What comes out of her pen, I can barely identify. It’s a total mess of scribbles and the occasional purposeful line, and immense– I’d guess on a regular sheet of lined paper, it’d take up five or six lines.

“What?” Sae asks, seeing my stare.

“N-nothing.”

“What?”

“Well, uh... they’re just a little messy, is all. Even for first letters.”

“I’m right-handed.”

“Oh. I... I see.”

The silence that follows is probably the most awkward in recent history.

“Well... uh... anyhow... that’s the alphabet.”

“How do I write my name?” Sae asks.

I pick up the pen, and then lower it again. “Uh... actually... I don’t know how to spell your name. Sorry.”

Sae shrugs and walks away, apparently bored.

Iarin hurries over to us before she gets very far, dragging Attaraya in her wake. “K-kael says it’s fine, he’ll take us to Irim Kuarth! B-but only up to the coast, he doesn’t want to risk going further inland.” Her cheeks are flushed with an almost childlike excitement. You’d think Christmas had come a month early.

Attaraya looks at her, utterly alarmed. Sae turns even paler than usual.

As for me, well... I’d like to be supportive of Iarin and her ideas, I really would. But despite all the faith she has in it, and all her hope for the future, and et cetera, Kael’s flying machine doesn’t look all that aerodynamic to me, either.

* * * * *

As we leave the library, the guy we were talking to outside runs up to us suddenly, calling Iarin’s name.

“W-what’s wrong?” she asks.

He mutters something to Iarin in a language I don’t recognize. Not Hanoran or Kuarthian, and not the low-pitched murmur of Sareilian, but more high-pitched and quick. I suppose they’re speaking Ealymian. Nobody’s offering a translation for the less lingually gifted of us.

With a slight frown, Iarin turns to face us. “Th-the Scholars want to see us.”

Iarin leads us to the towering building we saw earlier today, where a diminutive and bespectacled someone is closing the great stone doors.

“O-oh. Head Scholar. H-how... did you know we were here?”

“Miss Ellith,” The Scholar says, frowning slightly and looking down at us. “Someone recognized you at the library door and came to me, actually. I wished to inform your companions of something. We’ve received terrible news.”

“Wh-what news is this?

She turns to Sae. “We’ve received word of an assassination attempt made by the traitor Kagami on the Hralhym. She’s alive, apparently she was rescued, but–“

"We already know about that,” I say, “we were there. It was us who protected her.”

The Head Scholar gives us a vaguely amused look like, You? Yeah, right, but thankfully refrains from comment. Instead she turns to Attaraya.

“But there is bad news from your direction as well.” she says. “Kagami has revealed his treachery to the Council of Chiren, and he has killed one of their number.”

“What?” Attaraya’s jaw drops, her eyebrows shoot up in disbelief until they’re hidden by her copper bangs.

“Unfortunately, it’s true. Councillor Fowler has been assassinated.”

Which one was Fowler? I turn to Iarin, hoping she’ll offer some commentary on this for me. Beckett, I know was the woman, but I never heard the names of the other two.

Iarin whispers, “C-councillor Fowler is the one who sits on Beckett’s left. The small man w-with the grey hair.”

Oh, okay. So Fowler was the crazy one who tried to kill me. Huh.

“B-but why?” Iarin asks. “It doesn’t make much sense for him to announce this t-to Hanora and Sareil. He wants to keep the war going, but if Sareil and Hanora know what’s going on, they’re more likely to stop fighting than anything else.”

Sae snorts. “Oh, please. This is Hanora we’re talking about. They wouldn’t stop killing and pillaging if we said it would cause the apocalypse.”

Attaraya looks like she wants to argue back, but I silence her with a look. Now’s not the time for another of their squabbles.

“I think,” says Sae, “that maybe he’s just proud. He doesn’t want us to tell the world what a traitor he is, he’d prefer to spread the word himself. He told the Hralhym he’d be betraying her, and now the Council, as well, because that way, he’s still in control. Or something.”

“Y-yes, but... I don’t think it’s just that. Kagami d-doesn’t need Hanora and Sareil anymore, whatever he plans. They’ve become disposable to him. Wh-which means that someone... p-probably us... has done something he wanted us to do. W-we might have been playing right into his hands.”

“Since when are we not?” I ask, “We’ve got to stop Kagami no matter what. Who cares what his plans are?”

“Y-yes, but...” Iarin sighs. “Oh, n-never mind. I-it’s nothing.”

* * * * *

After another stay at a quiet inn, we all gather in the morning at the wide open field where Kael apparently told Iarin we should meet him. He’s waiting there, grinning like an idiot, with the flying machine all ready for takeoff behind him. There’s a surprising amount of room inside, enough space for all of us and a great wooden dashboard covered in metal switches and knobs and steering wheels.

“All right, everybody ready?” he asks us, looking a little more cheerful than anyone who's about to head off into the sky in a rickety wooden contraption like this should.

Iarin and Sae nod, the former excitedly, looking like she might jump for joy if not strapped into her seat, the latter with a determined air. Attaraya looks rather green, and doesn’t seem to trust herself to open her mouth.

I take a deep breath. It’s for Koreth, I remind myself.

“Ready,” I tell him.

Amazingly enough, after Kael manipulates a few switches, the thing lifts, helicopter-like, off the ground. Attaraya lets out a shriek like the victim in a cheap horror movie, flings her arms around Iarin’s head, and stays there, trembling, until Sae and I pull her off.

Sae looks a bit shaken as well, though.

“If the vreihymel intended for people to fly, they’d have give us wings,” she says stubbornly as the flying machine lists to the left a bit.

Iarin gives her a reassuring smile. “I-it’s okay. The Scholars s-say the machine works for sure.”

“Oh, really,” says Sae, not sounding the least bit comforted.

Iarin says simply, “Th-the Scholars know everything. I trust them.”

“I’m sure you do,” Sae says, a bit of the old sarcasm creeping into her voice.

I can’t say I’m not a bit nervous myself, our small craft being tossed about by the wind, many feet above the ground, but I do my best to stay calm, not be hysterical like a certain Hanoran guard now latched tightly onto Iarin’s arm, eyes screwed shut and yelping with panic every time the craft dips slightly. We appear to be staying in the air, after all. It’s all cool. We’ll live. Flying’s pretty easy, actually. “Falling with style,” and all that.

Despite all these perfectly reasonable protests, I can’t help but gasp as the craft rises over the Kuarthian Ocean, a wide blue expanse of crashing waves and swirling foam. Far off on the horizon, I can see the purple storm clouds and jagged bolts of lightning– no doubt one of the storms that make sailing the Kuarthian Ocean at this time of year so unsafe, and the reason that we’re now flying across the same damned ocean, a hysterical Attaraya in tow. Fortunately, we aren’t heading for it and it’s not heading for us, or ‘Raya would probably jump ship right now.

It’s hours before we can see the first smear of Irim Kuarth on the horizon, a dirt-brown blur above the endless blue. Just a glimpse of it makes my heart pound against my ribs. Kagami will be there. More importantly, Koreth will be there. Koreth who, by my calculation, only as about five or six days left. Koreth who can’t be saved. Koreth who is going to die.

And Kagami, who plans to keep us from killing him by using Koreth as a shield, and as a minion. Kagami who was head of the Spellweaver units and tricked innocent people to their slow and inevitable deaths. Kagami who advised the Hralhym, who told her to kill Iarin’s parents. Kagami who led the Sareilian child mages to their deaths and Sae to her horrible fate. Kagami who started the Hano-Sareilian war and made the Terran nations what they are today, creating chaos where there was once something vaguely resembling order. Kagami who knows what I am, has something to do with my real memories.

I can’t save Koreth. I think I’m coming to accept that now. But I’m not going to hurt him, either. Yes, I’m being stupid, yes, I’m being sentimental, and yes, I’m probably going to get us all killed. But I can’t do it. I just can’t. I can’t hurt Koreth, not for anyone’s sake.

Not even my own.

* * * * *

Even Sae breathes an audible sigh of relief as the flying machine lands on the coast of Irim Kuarth, largely undamaged, though Kael needs to work on the machine’s landing abilities a bit. (We hit the shore at an odd angle, and the machine tipped over and sort of skidded in the sand before running into a sand dune, righting itself, and tumbling over on the other side, snapping part of the propeller off in the process.) We climb carefully out of the craft, thanking Kael, who’ll be staying behind with the machine.

“How far is Kirael now?” I ask Iarin.

“A-a day’s journey north, with this terrain.”

She goes on to explain that “this terrain” means that, after a stretch of coarse sand, the land rises sharply upward: a small cliff. At the top of that, there’s a flat plateau, most of it forested, and there will be paved roads to take us to Kirael, even though they’re in a bit of a state of disrepair. Since there’s about an hour of daylight left, Iarin advises that we climb the cliff now, and get it over with. “A-after all,” she says, “w-we don’t have much time.”

I get what she means by that. Kirael may be only a day away, but there’s no guarantee that Kagami will be there. He might just be trying to send us on a wild goose chase, or there might be somewhere else he intends to lead us. If Kagami isn’t there, Koreth probably won’t be there either. With only days left until he’ll die, the faster we get to Kirael, the better.

If you don’t hurry to Kirael, if you just let his time run out, then you won’t have to fight him, a small, nasty part of me says. Won’t be your problem.

But I can’t do that. I can’t just let him die alone, waiting in vain for us. That isn’t the end he deserves, and I won’t let it happen.

All right. But Kagami’s giving me a choice. I can choose to make this my fault, or not.

... But it won’t matter.

Because I will never hurt Koreth. Never.

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Ooookay. That's Ch. 19 Over with.

I'm not really satisfied with this one... there's some stuff here I'm not happy with. The textbook is the big one, I didn't really know how to set the tone for it at all. That's probably because I don't really know what a horribly propaganda-choked book should sound like-- critical research failure on my part. XD I'm not sure if it should be more subtle? Less? *shrug*

Whatever, I'm just looking forward to chapter 20, where the real climax of the story actually starts. I guess if chapters 14-17 are my "bleh" chapters, then 18 and 19 are my "nothing happens in these chapters" chapters. XD

So, pick it apart! Thanks for all your help and support so far, I couldn't do this without you guys. ^_^