by P. Alexander
A cracked and craggy green-grey-black natural stone wall formed a perimeter on Aeryn’s left side, and to her right, the mountain rose up at a sheer angle into the clouds of the unearthly polar sky. Between those barriers, hundreds of small houses of mortared blocks stretched on and on, a confused tangle of lanes and alleys between them.
Fair skinned people with golden hair shuffled about the alleys in drab looking clothes. Many of them were carrying bundles or buckets or were pushing carts loaded with boxes and sacks.
Before Aeryn could think about whether or not she should hide or proceed, one of the fair men, an older man whose hair was more grey-white than gold, dropped his bag, pointed directly at her and cried “Wyhossa!”
Run Away
Wait to see what happens
***
Ellyra sat up in her bed, yawned stretching. Her servants came in and brought her robes to dress her.
“You look most splendid, Lady Ellyra!” one of the servants cooed, holding a mirror up so that her mistress might see herself. Without a moment’s care or grooming, the White Lady of Polaris was always shining perfection.
“Thank you,” Ellyra replied, caressing the face of she who had praised her. “I had the strangest dream, sehr, that an ugly wyhossa from the desert was about to tell me that she did not want to dream with me.”
“The wyhossa do not arrive until tomorrow, mistress.”
“I wonder what tomorrow will bring.”
The End
***
Aeryn took the stopper from her vial. The bitter-sweet liqueur tasted much stronger now than that which she had been given on the airship. Almost immediately her eyelids grew heavy and her breathing slowed.
Aeryn saw Elinka retching on the floor, but was unable to make sense of what was going on. The blinding white light of the palace of Ellyra turned grey and faded to black, yet Aeryn felt as though the light itself was kissing her skin and caressing her mind.
All the world was silver and gold, and the seas were aquamarines. And the camel caravans carried many things to and from many places. The yora continued to preach the Eye, and children loved the soft fur of alpacas. Sky ships sailed the seas, and the Jungles of Sabrio were clear cut, and mighty temples and castles were built and scattered like ant hills. A great star fell to earth and its children were prized by men and Shuul was a joke that was left untold, for the humor was lost long ago in the chill of the blizzards where the Ice Bears make their hay.
The words echoed in Aeryn’s mind, to the tune of those tuneless Polaran songs, the thing Elinka had told her long ago, that no place can be paradise if you can never leave.
The End
***
Time passed slowly for Aeryn alone in her cell. The sky was a strange mixture of pink, yellow and purple. With no motion of the sun, or even indication that it remained in that haunted sky, passage of time was immeasurable.
At last, the ‘first chiming’ came. The chiming was unlike anything Aeryn had ever heard, for it resembled the tinkling of a glass bell, but it echoed and reverberated through the hall of crystal prisons louder than the great bronze gong that the Elders would use to summon the entire village together.
Several Northmen arrived, quiet as ghosts, to open the many cages where men and women were being kept. A slaver opened the gate of Aeryn’s cell and placed a leash back upon her.
“It is time to go.”
Follow
***
Aeryn turned and fled, afraid that the man was calling for guards to seize her. She had nowhere to run, however, but back up the incredibly long and steep ramped corridor that wound along the side of the city-mount.
She felt light-headed and hungry, desperately wishing she had actually eaten that last meal that was brought to her by the slave-boy. The effort to make it back up the winding incline to the landing bay proved too much for Aeryn. The tunnel’s green faded to black, and Aeryn collapsed in exhaustion.
When she came to, Aeryn was being roughly handled and thrown into a cell. It took Aeryn a few blinks to gather her senses, but when she did, she found that the cell she had been thrown into was a large purple geode to which an iron-barred gate had been affixed.
“You shall wait here until the first chiming,” the jailor muttered, locking the gate.
Wait
***
Few of the other people seemed to notice, so engrossed they were in their menial tasks. Those who did look over did so but briefly, returning almost immediately to their work. The old man dropped to his knees before Aeryn.
“Why have you come to the lower city? What is your purpose here? Do the Lords know you have come?”
“What do you mean ‘wyhossa’?
“The wyhossa are what those not of the Northlands are called. I have never seen one who is not in the palaces of the high city. Why would you grace us with your presence?”
“Grace you? Palaces? I don’t understand.”
The old man looked at her in silence for a moment. “You are new in Polaris, then, sehr…” He stood, looking cautiously over his shoulder, and then offered her his hand. “Please, I would speak with you further, but we cannot do it here.”
Agree to follow the man
Refuse to follow the man
***
The old man beckoned for Aeryn to follow him toward the outer wall where he ushered her into a two-room stone hovel. As they had passed, a few persons showed signs of a fleeting curiosity, though none ceased their toiling to give more than a glance.
The hut was ill-furnished, with but a wooden table, stool, a few stoneware implements and a bedroll on the yellow-brown dirt floor. It made her own home in the deserts of the Eye seem palatial by comparison. An iron pot of water sat warm but not boiling on a crude hearth by a sack of grain. How odd that those two items must have been the man’s greatest treasures in the world whilst he lived in a city made of precious stone, Aeryn thought as the man insisted that she take a seat upon his one stool.
“Forgive me, my lady,” the man drew a hide curtain over the doorway. “I am called Yurd by my fellows in the lower city.”
“I was called Aeryn by my people in the deserts.” Aeryn would have said more, but she was interrupted by the loud growling of her stomach.
“You must be tired and hungry from your long journey,” Yurd bowed again and began scooping grain from a sack into a clay bowl. “All I have is a little bit of millet, but I would hope you might accept my hospitality here. In a way, I too am wyhosssa, for I am below the city. But you are from the lands far below us. The wyhossa races... We are not honored as you are.”
“Honored? What are you talking about?”
“Please, eat,” Yurd pressed into her hand a bowl of simple porridge composed of grain and hot water. At first, Aeryn ate only obligingly, but her hunger demanded otherwise and soon the bowl was empty. Yurd smiled, took the bowl from her, and proceeded to answer the question Aeryn posed. “Your people are honored here because their dreams are the dreams of men, not gods. Not all men in Polaris are dreamers, and the dreamers are not gods, however they may see themselves. I am one of the unseen, the many servants without which the Lords and Ladies of the upper city would starve or want for Shuul. Your kind is not normally allowed here, lest the sight of us spoil the splendor of the city for such important persons.”
“I still don’t understand. If you already serve the Lords, what do they need the ‘wyhossa’ for?”
“I have heard stories… From my mother’s mother’s mother’s time, when we were a mighty people, of how we rode the waves and built great castles and had many fields and flocks, and all had plenty. But those times ended. When a man may have all he dreams, he dreams only what he wants, never what he needs. Once, we dreamed paradise! But the dreamers began to dream only for themselves. Decadent and ridiculous things, of no use to anyone, such as mazes of diamond and towers of gold and fountains of mercury, were all they could dream of. They needed younger races, those who still dreamed the dreams of mortal, dreams
that still had vigor, to aid them in dreaming, lest they dream only a brilliant oblivion for themselves. That is why they take your kind, sehr.”
Yurd stood in grave silence for a moment by the table. Aeryn studied his face: the man was deep in thought, not waiting for her to speak, so Aeryn waited for him to reach whatever conclusion he was working toward.
“My people are doomed, sehr,” Yurd final spoke, hanging his head. “Long past saving, they dream toward their death. There is great power in the Shuul that allows the greatest dreamers to realize their wishes. How I have wished for an end to our suffering and slavery, but I see only one path. Aeryn, wyhossa from the Desert, I ask this: would you help us that no more of your kind need be dragged from their homes to be the playthings of indolent lords? I have many friends in the lower city and we are prepared to act.”
“I would help if I could,” Aeryn nodded as Yurd gently placed his worn hands upon her shoulders.
“You would? Wonderful! You would help me by dreaming my peoples’ death?”
Agree to Yurd’s plan
Take no part in the death of Yurd’s people
***
Aeryn decided to follow the pink and purple corridor which led from the landing bay. Though dimly lit, she could see the outline of people moving about on the other sides of the translucent stone walls.
It led to a long hall filled with great geodes of shimmering royal purple crystal. So large, in fact, were these geodes that they were being used by the Northmen as prison cells!
Groggy and sleeping prisoners lay upon pallets in those iron-gated alcoves. Aeryn looked on helplessly at those who must have been brought along the sky sail with her, for without a key there was nothing she could do for them.
Suddenly, the hall filled with the tall blonde-haired pale-skinned men, some of whom Aeryn recognized from when she was first taken on the sky sail.
“Look! The wyhossa who escaped!” one of the slavers pointed at Aeryn. Two of the other fair men gave pursuit to Aeryn, who’d turned and fled. Before making it back even to the landing bay, Aeryn was tackled, shackled and had a leash placed upon her neck. A loud noise, tinkling like a bell yet booming like a gong, reverberated throughout the hall.
“It is time for the choosing,” one of her jailors said. “Come and trouble us no more.”
Follow
***
Aeryn thought of all of her people who had been taken from her tribe and from her: her caring sister Velina; her foolish Uncle Ashoor, who had thought it a wonderful thing to be taken by the Northmen; all of the others who had been dragged off. She thought of her mother’s tears as they were taken away. Her mother’s tears when she was taken away. Aeryn’s heart felt swollen with the anger and bitterness she felt towards those pale men who came in their ships and took and took.
“I would gladly do what must be done to see that no one is hurt by the Lords of the Northlands ever again,” Aeryn said gravely. “Tell me what must be done.”
“Wonderful! Thank you, Aeryn! You shall be our savior yet.” Yurd clapped his hands. “There is a building near here where Shuul is stored. I know someone who can get you in there. All you must do is drink and dream an ending. The Lord’s dreams are tools: weapons, which the Shuul can unsheathe. Use their weapons against them!”
“And all I must do is drink and dream… what?”
“Anything that would bring an end, my child. Your dreams have power here, greater than even the Lords if you are aware of that power.”
“Then let us do what must be done.”
Continue
***
“I am sorry, Yurd,” Aeryn shook her head. “I cannot… I will not dream anyone’s death.”
Yurd’s face was filled with sorrow. He began to weep and wail openly. “It is I, who am sorry, Aeryn of the desert. It would seem that someone has dreamed your death. We cannot be known, and we cannot keep a wyhossa secret here long.”
With those words, Yurd pulled the stool out from under Aeryn and hit her with it again and again and again.
The End
***
Aeryn resolutely shook her head in refusal. She trusted this man no more than any of the other Northmen. She had to escape, but how?
There was nowhere to go, but further into the dense cluster of houses and buildings in the populated area or back up the ramp the way she had come. Aeryn had no choice but to go back the way she came.
Maybe I can stow away on the sky sail and find my way home, Aeryn mused hopefully. Why didn’t I think to try that before?
Aeryn began to ascend the spiraling ramp, but going back up was much harder than going down. She was feeling light-headed and dizzy. Aeryn cursed herself for not just eating that last meal the slave boy brought her as the green of the jade corridor faded to black.
When she came to, one of the pale men was roughly throwing her into a large purple geode that had been made into a prison cell by addition of an iron-barred gate affixed to its open face.
“You shall wait here until first chiming,” the jailor mumbled, locking the cell door.
Wait for first chiming
***
Yurd quickly departed from his stone hovel, leaving Aeryn alone at the table.
Aeryn wondered for a moment if she was making the right choice until she was interrupted by another pale man who lifted the veil covering the entry.
“Yurd sent me,” he said, placing a large empty barrel between them. “Please get in.”
Aeryn obliged and the pale man replaced the lid, sealing her in darkness. She felt unsteady as the man lifted the barrel and placed it upon something. They began moving and within the barrel, Aeryn was jolted and bumped about upon whatever was transporting her.
After being jostled about for some time, suddenly all was still. They had stopped. The unsteady feeling returned, then was followed by a somewhat painful thud as the barrel was set sideways upon the ground.
“We are here,” the man said, removing the lid. “I must leave now to make sure I was not followed. You know what to do and will have time enough to do it. I will make sure of that.”
Aeryn crawled from the barrel and looked out to see that she was in a dimly-lit warehouse, about the size of the sky sail landing bay, filled with shelf after shelf of small blue beryl vials with ruby stoppers. There must have been thousands of shelves and millions of vials.
She looked behind her, but the man with the cart had already left.
“Drink the Shuul. Dream an end.”
Aeryn grabbed a crystal vial, cast its stopper aside, and swallowed its contents in a single gulp. It had tasted much fouler, much stronger than that which she had been given on the sky sail. She took down and consumed one after another. Vial after vial of the bitter liqueur was drained into her stomach. Sickness did not come before sleep, and Aeryn victoriously crashed into a shelf, scattering and spilling countless bottles of Shuul onto the floor, in her final moments of consciousness.
Then Aeryn dreamed.
She dreamed a snowflake. Just a single snowflake. And that snowflake fell upon the city. Then another. Then another. “Winter shall come to the dreaming lands,” Aeryn said with a smile. “And someday they shall dream no more. The great dreams will be left to the hands and wills of men and women who pursue them on their feet and not in their beds.”
The End
