But it would be a long time before Kiril would have Drak to himself. Everyone in the village wanted to meet the visitors, and as host it was Kiril’s responsibility to make sure everyone did. And of course his chosen mother Zaloka and his chosen father Wessid wanted to spend as much time with Kiril and his friends as possible.
A grand feast had been prepared in anticipation of their arrival and was being served in the village park pavilion. All two hundred and eighty-three permanent residents of Galeza were in attendance at the grand pavilion and the surrounding park. Built over a babbling brook that helped to keep it cool, the pavilion and the surrounding park were shaded all around by the thick dark canopies of mature cantanut trees. The smooth creamy-white trunks of these beautiful shade trees stood out elegantly against the dark reddish-purple leafy foliage. Stone pathways and footbridges built of lavender, rose, and cream colored stones wove through trees, shade-loving gardens, and trellised alcoves.
News of Rojaire’s mission to recruit colonists for what was now Lynnara had reached the village ahead of the visitors. Everyone wanted to hear more, even if no one showed interest in becoming a colonist. So after appetites were sated and fermented drinks began to flow, Rojaire and his group were encouraged to speak.
Rojaire gladly accommodated them. He described the vast island continent with the love of a father that failed to see his child’s talent deficiencies, telling them of recovering coastal hills and valleys with flowing streams of fresh water and an abundance of edible foods available. Then he described the impregnable, formidable Crescent Mountains that spiraled through the center of the continent isolating the coast from the drier, more barren interior. And he totally won their awe with his vivid detailed descriptions of the Crystalline Landscape, and what they may have learned about its possible dangers, that surrounded Mt. Vatre for many leagues in the center of the continent.
The villagers listened spellbound, asking questions to encourage him to tell more, but the villagers were more practical than adventurous, and although they greatly enjoyed Rojaire’s tales, no one spoke up in favor of joining the colonists.
“How many people have signed up so far?” one villager asked.
“A few…” Rojaire answered cautiously, unwilling to disclose just how few.
“Building a colony without the ability to draw energy from the elemental forces sounds like a lot of hard labor,” said another. “We are already comfortable here; what incentive is there for us to move to Lynnara?”
“Freedom…” Rojaire said giving the word deep meaning. “Freedom to move about as you want and plan your own life agenda. Freedom to pursue your own dreams and interests instead of those of the High Council and the Academy. Freedom to raise a family as people did long ago. Look about you.”
Not sure what Rojaire expected them to see the villagers glance about.
“Where are the children? Do you see any new persons? There should be babies, and toddlers, and young ones playing and running about.”
A woman spoke up. “We have applied to the High Council to choose a mother and father to produce another new person for the village,” she said.
The woman’s words sounded peculiar, even a bit insane, to Kaylya after living in western Alaska. How would a woman from Earth respond to a statement like that? I do not want the High Council to decide if Rojaire and I can have a child together. Their answer would most certainly be no.
“Listen to what you just said,” Rojaire voiced loudly, apparently experiencing a similar reaction. “You applied to the High Council to choose a mother and father to produce another new person for the village.” Rojaire repeated, pacing in excited agitation. “A man and a woman should be allowed to make that choice for themselves.”
“Your words speak treason,” an elderly woman hissed. “Lack of control breeds chaos.”
“The freedoms I speak of are rights that are our due as intelligent dignified individuals.”
Drak listened quietly to the discussion, which was contrary to his usual outspoken nature, shaking his head at the small-mindedness of some of his neighbors. A quick glance at Kreeze made Drak chuckle. The philosophic councilor appeared to be in a quandary over the appeal of Rojaire’s ideals and his loyalty to the High Council. No doubt the councilor would be lecturing Kiril on his duties while he was here. Drak studied Kiril watching Rojaire with envious pride. Poor boy! He looks miserable. I can easily guess why; the High Council will forbid Kiril to leave the Academy, a right they hold in reserve until Kiril becomes an Accepted One.
Kiril had shared with Drak a complete verbal chronicle of the mapping expedition through the Crescent Mountains and the discovery of the wondrous hidden valley that fit the descriptions on the ancient map Drak had given him. In fact, Drak was looking forward to meeting with Rojaire and his team in private. There was much he wanted to discuss with them. He had every intention seeing the valley his great grandfather discovered before the Dark Devastation, but he wasn’t going to announce it to the entire community for they would surely find merry sport with his decision.
It wasn’t until long after the great feast, followed by a period of sleep and more unplanned visiting, before Rojaire, Kaylya, Traevus, and Kiril hailed Drak at his cottage door. By then the sun blazed hot on the long Aaian day.
To Rojaire’s relief, Thayla had accepted an invitation earlier to go on a food gathering trip in the hills for the next feast. So far, Thayla knew nothing of the map and the secret valley they wished to discuss with Drak, and until Rojaire was certain she could be trusted, he preferred it to stay that way.
“Greetings, my friends!” Drak exclaimed upon opening the hand-crafted wooden door to his quaint cottage made of stone. Drak’s long silvery hair glistened in the sunlight and matched the radiance in his eyes which expressed with ease his delight in seeing them.
“Greetings, Drak. We are grateful for your invitation,” Rojaire said, gazing with fascination at the man who had provided Kiril with such a prophetic map. Rojaire quickly introduced Kaylya and Traevus. “Kiril I believe you already know.”
Drak ushered them in. “Welcome, welcome, please come in and be seated.
“It is such a pleasure to finally meet you,” Kaylya said. “Kiril has told us so much about you.” They chose sturdy handcrafted wooden chairs softened with cushions and sat around a highly polished dark wood table.
“Where is the other woman in your party? I hope she hasn’t taken ill.”
“She has gone on a food gathering party,” Kaylya filled in.
Drak immediately began pouring drinks. “It is my pleasure to serve …some of my choice elixir,” he said, adding his special twist to the standard expression.
Milky blue porcelain decanters and tumblers as well as several small pouches made of crystal floss, a rare nearly indestructible material no longer found, were spread out on the table. Kiril resisted the urge to reach out and touch the pouches. “Drak brews an excellent beverage,” he said instead with contrived sophistication while vowing silently that he would sip with caution …this time.
“Well, in that case, I’m looking forward to trying it,” Rojaire said as Drak filled his cup.
“I see you collect relics,” Traevus said eyeing Drak’s extensive collection overburdening shelves and cubbyholes built into the stone walls.
“Yes, I’ve always had a great interest in history. In my younger days, I spent most of my time, when not performing my assigned duties, exploring and digging for relics.” Drak’s sparkling dark gray eyes reflected experience and aged wisdom; his weathered skin bespoke of a man who spent much time outdoors.
“You found all these things,” Kaylya gasped with surprise. “Where?”
“Mostly deep in the interior of the continent, far from the ravaged coastlines.”
Kaylya stared at him, her mouth agape. She and Rojaire had done much the same thing. They had also ventured deep into the continent and found relics which Rojaire sold to Councilor Brakalar, Head of the Academy at the time, to obtain secret
illicit transport to the Devastated Continent after the Academy and the High Council refused their petition to explore it.
“Of course, feel free to dig and browse all you wish, but I have a few items here that come from a very special valley in the Crescent Mountains that you might find even more interesting and stories to go with them. Stories handed down from my great grandfather to my father and eventually down to me. But first let’s drink to the establishment of the first settlement in the new Lynnara.”
Kaylya certainly couldn’t argue with that. So with their curiosity piqued they all sipped at the golden brew, except for Drak who took a hearty swallow. Kaylya only touched it to her lips and she could taste its fiery strength.
“So tell us about your great grandfather,” Traevus said to get Drak talking. “What was his name?”
“His name was Vestan. All I can tell you about him are the stories my father related to me. He was an explorer, an adventurer, who would go missing in the Crescent Mountains for cycles of seasons, then unexpectedly show up again. He was a weaver by trade, at least when he actually worked, and as rare as crystal floss is, he supposedly found enough of it to weave the map I gave Kiril as well as the pouches and a second map I have here on the table.”
“Kiril didn’t bring back the map you gave him, but I can vouch it is safe,” Rojaire assured him. “We felt it was needed in the valley it depicts.”
“I do not doubt your word and I agree,” Drak said. “When Kiril returned with tales of a valley that fit the map I was elated. Of course there was a time when I was skeptical. During his longevity, my Great Grandfather Vestan was considered a fool. It felt good to have him finally vindicated.” Drak took another gulp from his tumbler before continuing his tale.
“Back in his day, gemstones were of great value and the maps marked the locations of his many finds, but he never revealed the location of the valleys. Perhaps he thought there was time for that; he didn’t anticipate the Dark Devastation. My grandmother escaped Lynnara with my father, who was a small child at the time, and with what you see here.” Drak waved his hand over the table.
Reaching from his chair he grabbed one of the pouches and emptied its contents into his hand. Brilliant thumbnail-sized blood-red gemstones gleamed in the light of a small glow overhead. “My grandmother probably assumed the gemstones would support them in the aftermath of the calamity, but the destruction of our world was more devastating than anyone could have imagined, and the gemstones became worthless.” One by one Drak revealed the contents of the pouches …diamonds, sapphires, emeralds, and purple amethyst. They admired the beautiful large perfect stones taking turns handling them and holding them up to the light.
But it was the map they were more interested in. Kiril could hardly keep his fingers in check, the urge to reach out for the map was so strong. The existence of a second mysterious map sharpened his fervor to reunite with the map he had to leave behind.
“Is the map of another special hidden valley full of gemstones?” Kiril asked.
Drak didn’t miss Kiril’s eagerness to get to the map. I’m surprised it took him this long to bring it up. “There’s more to it than that. It is my understanding that somehow the two valleys are connected. By what means I couldn’t tell you.” Drak unfolded the crystal floss map revealing a woven representation of a place that no one living has ever seen.
“What are these?” Kaylya asked studying something woven into the margin. There were line drawing of some kind of creature in the lower left hand corner of the cloth. To Kaylya they looked like a child’s drawing of teddy bears.
“I have no name for them, but they are the strangest tale of all. My grandmother believed Vestan encountered these small feathery creatures, or so he claimed, living isolated from the rest of the world. He considered them to be quite intelligent. According to the story I grew up with, they stood waist-high to my great grandfather and had padded hands with opposing thumbs which allowed them to use simple tools and craft a few useful items. They supposedly could walk upright, but moved much quicker on all fours. Great Grandfather Vestan wasn’t much of an artist, but this supposedly is his rendition of what they looked like.”
“Well, we haven’t encountered anything that looks like this,” Traevus said. “But we have discovered a few other amazing living species.” Traevus delighted them with descriptions of silver kurpers and delicate twirling callelas. In a world void of animal life, these life forms were more precious than all the gemstones together.
“Yes, Kiril has described them to me. It’s a wonder they survived all the devastation!”
“We’ve also encountered tracks indicating the presence of a large predator, but no one has seen it yet,” Rojaire added.
“So I’ve heard. I would love to see these wonders with my own eyes.”
“I can’t wait to see them for myself,” Kaylya said. There was a long contemplative pause. Then the group turned their attention to the map. Drak topped off their cups and took another gulp of the fiery brew.
Rojaire looked up from his study of the map. “What are these swirling markings? They seem to indicate movement. There’s nothing like that on the map you gave Kiril.”
“I have to admit, I don’t know. My grandmother claimed Westan’s explanation never made much sense to her.”
“I know it is a lot to ask,” Rojaire said after a while. “But would you consider letting us take this map with us to Lynnara?”
Drak held them in suspense for a moment before answering Rojaire’s question with another question. “How much time do you have left to round up enough colonists?” Drak asked.
“Not long …another rotation.”
“And how many colonists do you actually have lined up at this point to join your colony?”
“A few,” Rojaire answered with some hesitation.
“How many?” Drak asked emphatically.
“Three,” Rojaire admitted dismally.
“Four!” Kiril shouted in defiance. The group turned to look his way, but no one had the heart to contradict him.
“Then make that five,” Drak said. “For I intend joining you.”
“Oh, that’s wonderful,” Kaylya gasped.
“I assume you have an alternative plan if you don’t find twenty colonists to sign up,” Drak said.
“I might,” Rojaire admitted not wanting to give anything away. “We’ll see.”
Drak raised his cup. “Then I won’t pry. Just give me the word when the time comes, and I’ll be ready. Till then, let’s drink to Lynnara.”
“To Lynnara…!” they joined in chorus raising their cups.
Kiril took a larger sip to celebrate. Drak had counted himself as the fifth colonists to join Rojaire. That made Kiril the fourth. There was a ray of hope after all. For the first time no one said he wasn’t going.
CHAPTER 7
Earth
The last winter storm finally left western Alaska bringing in pleasant spring sunshine. Breakup in Alaska is not a very pretty sight. Brown ground writhes mushily in the throes of thawing between decaying mounds of dirty snow. There had been a promise of spring in the air when Jack flew out, after waiting two days for the storm to break permitting flights out of King Salmon again and another day to let the backlog of cancelled flights clear. Spring may be coming to Bristol Bay, but not fast enough for Jack.
Jack’s disposition improved greatly as soon as he reached Anchorage and warmer weather. The city was already turning green with grass growing and trees leafing. He generally enjoyed himself the few days he spent in Anchorage waiting for the next passenger train north to the Susitna Valley. He walked around downtown during the day, sampling eateries and visiting the museums, even taking in a movie. At night he ordered in and watched the city from his hotel window.
It was a warm early May morning and Jack’s spirits were running high as he finally boarded the northbound train. The last time he visited the Bradley Family and other members of the Order of the Oracle, he had to painfully say goodbye to Ka
ylya. On a happy note, he hoped to spend some time with Ilene and her mother Elaine. The train ride was long, and to pass the time Jack chatted with brave early season tourists, regaling them with tales of commercial fishing in Bristol Bay and life on the rugged frontier.
Hours later the slow moving train pulled up to the little passenger platform in the tiny end-of-the-road town where Elaine and her daughter Ilene had their gift shop. To his surprise he spotted the two women on the platform. Were they boarding the train? In answer to Jack’s question, they picked up small carry-on packs and approached the steps. Jack rose to greet them as they entered the passenger carriage waving them over. Spotting him, Ilene ushered her mother over.
“Jack Faulkner!” Ilene exclaimed with delight. “It’s so good to see you. We were hoping you would make it up this weekend.”
“I’m delighted to see you, too,” he said with a warm hug. Ilene quickly stepped aside into a seat giving him clear access to Elaine. “Elaine, my lady,” he said taking her hand. “You are the highlight of my day, the sweet dreams of my night. What a pleasure it is to be in your company once again!”
“I doubt all that, but greetings to you too,” Elaine said gruffly, easing into the seat beside Ilene. It was obvious Jack had hoped she would choose to sit with him instead. Ilene stared out the window so her mother wouldn’t see the grin on her face. It was funny beyond belief. Jack was wooing her mother and her mother was sweet on him …she just had a strange way of showing it. The remainder of the trip went quickly as the three of them attempted to catch up on news over the click-clacking of the train. Then the train slowed as it approached the Bradley trail head and eased to a stop.
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