Below the Surface

1. The Prisoner

Beneath the twisted roots of the Center, Namia squeezed her damp eyes shut and sent a fresh cascade of tears down her cheeks. Shouts and cries in the distance hit her ears like white-hot sparks, making her flinch. The world above seemed to be spilling down to violently meet her.

"All will soon be well, Namia," a soft voice--the kind voice of her mother--whispered close, and soon the warmth of her mother's arms were around her. "Your father and Ashaun will be back and safe before the next mealtime."

Namia wanted to believe her mother, but the distant clamoring refused to quiet. She found herself wondering and deciphering which shout may be her brother's, which clang of metal may be an enemy sword piercing her father's heart.

"Where did they come from?" she asked again, though she already knew the answer.

"A far-off place where none have been for a very long time," her mother said. "The kind of place that the Founders left behind long ago--a terrible, evil place."

Though she had expected it, Namia was not contented with this answer at all. She thrived on specification, on the nitty-gritty details of life, and the mystical idea of "wise" and "enlightened" Founders had always been too vague for her liking.

"They attack us because they are evil?"

It was more of a statement than a question, but her mother responded in answer.

"Yes, they are an evil people from an evil place, Namia. They come to take the goodness from us, and destroy all that we have built to be."

Once again, she found this too superficial an explanation. It often felt as though her mother didn't realize that Namia was no longer a child, and at the age of sixteen would soon be joining her peers at that very spot, beneath the roots of the Center, to receive her Gensia wreath and be granted her right to court any young man in the colony she may see fit.

Namia thought herself very silly to be thinking of such things as age ceremonies and courting in a time like this. She looked around the cavernous, open space of the Center, where other women of the colony were either fretting and weeping, or comforting each other along with their children. A group of young ones were huddled together on the tightly packed earth not far off from where Namia had nestled herself between two thick roots. One tiny girl had placed her hands tightly over her ears, presumably blocking out the sounds of terror coming from above.

In a sudden fit of spirit, Namia quickly wiped away the tears that still clung to her cheeks and made her way towards the small girl. She wrapped her arms around her in much the same way her mother had embraced her moments before, and pulled the girl into her lap. The child, slightly startled at first, looked quite surprised to see Namia. The older girl gathered the attention of the other children and began to sing them an old song, which contained the legend of her people. Her voice rang out clear and loud--an attribute of hers she had long been praised for--and soon other women were joining in her song, almost completely drowning out the din of battle.

"And in a darkness like night,
The world opened its light,
And shone for the true and right..."

Many of the children had begun singing as well, the grimaces and fear falling from their faces as they were lost in a song about beginnings and love and hope.

"Inside the ever-womb,
Hear the Mother croon,
We will all be home soon..."

As the song finished and a silence fell over the Center, a new sound became suddenly apparent: pounding footsteps and shouting. A large group was drawing near, and quickly. The women and children turned in unison to the widest tunnel opening into the Center, the Portal. All seemed to hold their breath, the greenish light of the biolanterns giving a sickly glow to each frightened face. And then, all at once, a great crowd spilled forth from the Portal, and the women and children began to shout with glee as their husbands and sons ran towards them, cheering in victory.