Legacies

Chapter 1

There comes a time when even the most stubborn of adversaries must admit defeat and that to avoid total annihilation a compromise must be sought. And so, it was, Khilieeah enhel ap Aaen, Lord of Life and Raaiaas the Destroyer submitted to one another and left the world in the care of the seven. Never would either return to the world they had wrought, a self-imposed punishment, a testament to the realisation that to continue would result in an inevitable doom for them both.

The words of Prophet Kinut Mornath from the Revised Scripture of Divine Creation by Bishop-Cardinal Micah. P.S. 26.

Altitude had never been a problem for Thorold in the past but this journey had been particularly problematic and he was starting to feel uneasy at this height, vulnerable amongst the clouds in way that he hadn't felt for decades. It wasn't the delays or the cramped quarters that had forced him to readdress his life, nor it had been the long ride from the desert town to the nearest ship field. It was a general feeling of unease that rose like a black tide within him. The slow return of feelings once thought banished but now rising from the past to haunt him and force him to consider how much he had dealt with. Was he any different emotionally to the teenager that had left all those years ago. Had he really changed and if not, what did that say about him and just as importantly what did that say about those he was returning to. The closer he got his destination, with every league gained Thorold could feel a deepening dread and discomfort that turned his stomach. Homecomings were supposed to be joyous occasions filled with reunions and quite comfort, the quiet security of feeling once more part of the whole. This reunion he could already feel would be difficult and painful and one that was solely of his own making.

Looking down from amongst the clouds it was very easy to imagine oneself as one of the Seven fixed in the firmament gazing upon their wards. The land beneath the airship was laid out as a patchwork of patterns and colours sliced by sinewy rivers spreading like veins emptying the life blood of the mountains into the vast emptiness of the oceans. Of course, there were no oceans visible from here the never-ending expanses of ocean were far away, in fact, one could not get much further from the salt filled air. From here it seemed as if the land went on to eternity in every direction. Not even the inhospitable great mountain range of the Ever Highs seemed capable of containing the burgeoning life below. Green pleasant and deadly. The fresh clean air helped ease Thorolds nausea that the crew teased was air sickness but Thorold knew was something more cerebral. Filling his lungs he breathed out deeply recalling a Gholamese meditation technique for steadying the soul. He hadn't needed such techniques since he first began his travels.

That morning the airship had competed is three day traverse of the deadly plains of Sorrowmere its gently swaying grasses had given way to the undulating hills that would subtly increase in magnitude until the Ever High mountains would erupt from the earth in perilous snow-capped peaks, replete with steep dangerous valleys, gushing mountain streams and waterfalls. He could just make out the jagged peaks ahead of them on the horizon, a place once believed by him as a child to be the very end of the world and for most a reality, for it marked the border with the reclusive Salo.

Thorold spent much each day on deck gazing beneath them as the gentle whine of the propellers kept the winds from pushing them too far off course. He could not help but be moved by the beauty of life when it was all laid out like this. Was this how the Seven viewed the world or was their perception more nebulous, more unknowable, was it even possible to comprehend what a god saw or thought even lesser ones like the Seven?

On the macro scale the myriad of habitats were each discernible at different scales. Like a fractal pattern, the more one focused the more you saw. The individual denizens of these habitats were mostly unobservable although even from this height the herds of Moeths tramping across the plains could be seen and the spectacle of the thousands of grazing Zeras and Grass Deer could not be hidden. They were tide like, a black and fawn mass moving in unison, an ocean of life riding upon an ocean of grass. It was not entirely unpopulated among the clouds however, Ghostcaps drifted on the winds, their ribbon thin tentacles trailing behind them whilst their buoyant gas filled bladders pulled them ever upwards. How high could they go? Was there a limit? Had they travelled to the stars in the sky or the moons above. What would it be like to stand on the surface of Belith or Naramoth and look back on the world? Fanciful thoughts Thorolds thought to himself. He was an analytical sort of person and not prone to such flights of fancy but at the moment such thoughts diverted him from more disturbing thoughts and feelings.