Shaun Abbott

The Godmaker’s daughter

By

Shaun Abbott

Prologue

The universe is a place that few people can understand, unless it is seen from the outside.   Across a field too large to ever be measured can be seen thousands of giant spirals; each of them is a universe.   Black holes keep the spirals from connecting and destroying themselves.  

Within these universes, everything is not only possible, but real.   Every work of fiction, every daydream, and every child’s show is real.  

Magic, alchemy, aliens, and mythical civilizations all exist.

We will focus on two worlds, Phantel and Verr.  

Phantel is a majestic place, mirroring the setting for various written works regarding magic and sorcery.   It's a world with hundreds of islands, but no large landmasses.   Every island is run like a country, with most electing a "Regent" to rule over them for a few years at a time.   The pursuit of education is considered one of the most valuable occupations; educations, of course, consist of learning the civilization’s most valuable skill, magic.   In ages past, the people of Phantel were known for their wisdom and elegance, but now they are mercenaries, selling their skills to anyone willing to pay any price for any reason.

Verr can best be described as a post-apocalyptic world where the people believe that their gods are dead.   Most of the population has been forced underground by a giant storm that continuously circumnavigates the planet, preventing humanity from reclaiming the surface.   Those who do live on the surface, do so barely, building their cities in chasms, digging into the walls thereof for protection.   These people are criminals incapable of valuing the life of even their family members.  

There are of course exceptions to this rule, but only where humanity has managed to learn from its mistakes; exceedingly rare on Verr.   Still, a few buildings that were shielded from the elements remain, but for the most part this world is dying.   However, perhaps, this will change.

Chapter one.

Location: Outside the Multiverse

Outside of human reach lie the game masters, creatures that cannot be seen by the eyes of mortals.   The only visual indication of their presence is the detritus that clings to their bodies, like dust and dirt on an animal.   They constantly play games as their name suggests, but their “pieces” are human souls that have been traded for gifts and favors.   Thankfully there are only two of these beings in existence.   They have just finished a game.

“Well, that game was a waste of time,” says one.

“What is ‘time’?” asks the other.

“Something that is of great concern to the game pieces.”

“You pay too much attention to the pieces.”

“Or you pay too little.”

“Is that the point of our next game?”

“As if we would play for something so pointless.”

“What then?”

“Let’s say no stakes for this game.    We need a change.”

“In that case,” debris floats in the air before coming apart revealing a small glowing orb.

“You’re using that piece?”

“Unless you object.”

“I’d prefer you to throw that thing away.”

“You know that’s against the rules.”

“In that case, favor that piece, it will die faster that way.”

“Let the game begin then.”

Location: Phantel.  Island: Salsri

At a prestigious school, a young girl’s life is about to be thrown away.   Her name is Ivera Highfall, or 'Ivy' to her friends.   At fourteen years old, she is already two grade levels higher than normal.   She is currently in their principal's office as punishment for failing all of her classes.

“You can’t do this to me!” Ivy complains, but the principal isn't listening.

“Ivera, you don’t have any work to show, there’s no way out for you.”

“I made perfect grades!”

“Prove it," a demented smile curses the principal's face, and not for the first time.   Parents across the island have been recently complaining that their students have been treated unfairly.   The most gifted children have always been under scrutiny to discourage cheating, but now they are being punished by having their work erased.

"I have a copy of my grades at home, I'll just go get it and-"

"Stop lying."

"I would never."

The principal scoffed, "grades like yours don't happen unless cheating is involved."

"You can't prove that."

"Who says I need to? Hmm? Who says I have to do anything at all? You have no proof that you did any of that work.   That's all there is, all anyone is going to care about." The principal snapped her fingers and a door melted out of the floor behind Ivera.   "You know the price for failing, especially as badly as you did."

"You can't do this!"

"I believe that you already said something along those lines."

"But…"

The principal raised her hand, and a small, six sided disk flies out of Ivera's pocket, "You won't be needing this."

"Please don't…."

The principal laughed, and with a single movement sent Ivera flying through the door, to Verr.   The door vanished, and a few minutes later the principal's assistant enters the room.

"Yes Sherman?"

"Pardon me, but Mr. Highfall wants to know when he can expect his daughter to be home."

"His daughter?"

"Ivera Highfall, the girl that was in here earlier?"

"She's already left for the day, I'm sure she'll show up eventually."

"What should I tell him then?"

"Send him a copy of her transcript; he'll know what it means."

"Yes ma'am.”

Sherman left the room as quickly as he could, not even bothering to say he was leaving.   The principal on the other hand, sat down and started reading a romance novel.    Sherman would handle everything, he always did.

Location: Verr.  

On Verr, things aren't much better.   While the storm is away caravans constantly patrol the largest continent.   These caravans consist of vehicles that the people living on Phantel would consider relics at best; they are basically tanks, designed without consideration for the lives of the people inside them.   Still, the caravan itself is not the interest here.

The last vehicle in the caravan pulls a cart behind it, or rather an imitation of a cart.   It has two mismatched wheels, and no roof to protect its sole occupant; a child named Len.   Although this child is only thirteen one look make is obvious that obvious that the child’s life has been harsh.   Len is covered in scars, almost twenty pound under a healthy weight, and wrapped in layers of filthy rags.   However, the most relevant trait isn't apparent until one speaks with this child.   In this world of cruelty and deception, Len is incapable of lying.

No one is quite sure why this is, but then again few people have stopped to wonder.   Len's own ‘mentor’ has attempted to teach deception, but Len’s failure ended up with the loss of the ring and middle fingers on Len’s left hand.

Len's job title is literally 'screamer,' and it's a job that required death.   All screamers are children from the lower rungs of the criminal hierarchy, and all are having their lives thrown away.   Every night, after the caravan settles down, a screamer goes out and looks for anything that could possibly be considered dangerous to the caravan.   If danger is spotted, the child screams as loudly as they can so the caravan knows to escape while the child dies.   The children who survive for months, or even years, are considered lucky, and are sometimes hired by the upper level criminals as personal servants.   The job is no more pleasant, and the odds of dying on a daily basis are far less.

Len has been a screamer for four years, but because of the title, any other job is impossible.   ‘Len’ is a title given at birth to indicate that this child is worthless and an official target for hardship.   It means that anyone who bears the title can never have a family, never have a future, never have any hope.

Until now.

Len.

I began to stretch as I heard the squealing of the brakes throughout the caravan, and I jumped off before the tank came to its final lurch of the day.   The men got out and walked around before starting the evening fire.   The fools didn't even realize that we were walking on decomposing plants instead of solid ground.  

I walked into the swamp, but not quick enough to escape the stench of rotting meat from the 'food' the men had brought with them.   Tonight, like most nights, I would scavenge for my meal, and that was probably why I’ve lived so long.

I reached into my pocket and pulled out an old gun, which was more for comfort than protection.   I've never been able to find any bullets that would fit in its strangely shaped, triangular barrel, but it was small enough that I could conceal it readily.   In truth, I don't even know where or when I found it.   All I remember is waking up one day and feeling it poking me in the back.   I guess that's why I value this useless weapon so much.   Still, screamers aren't allowed to carry weapons; it defeats the purpose of our job.

I laughed at myself; this was no job.   This was a death sentence at best.

I walked for the better part of an hour before I came to a clearing that felt odd.   I know what to look for in these parts, broken branches, game trails, claw marks on trees, and logs floating against the current.   With the exception of the logs this area had all the signs in abundance, but there was nothing alive here.  

For a moment I contemplated reaching into the water to see if it was poisoned, but then changed my mind.   There was no reason to take the chance.

Gun shots rang throughout the swamp as a testament to the idiocy of people who only endeavor to serve those who give orders.   The men are having a party to celebrate another day alive, but they don’t even care whether or not there are any other people in the area.

A branch snapped behind me followed by a second one slightly closer.   Someone was behind me now, and judging by the way that the marsh was creaking, they were facing me.

I slowly reached into my pocket.

"That's not going to help anyone.   Just turn around and we can talk."

In a smooth motion that I have never practiced before I pulled out my gun and spun on the balls of my feet to face this person, or what I had expected to be a person.

It caught my gun and twisted it out of my hands readily using only a hand ending in four inch long claws.   It was covered in brown fur that seemed to move of its own accord, but still clung close to its bulbous form.

"Are you a marsh soul^[1]?"

He laughed, "No."

"Then, what are you?"

It handed me back my gun, "Too tough for a gun without bullets."

"How?"

It sighed, and reached for its face.   As the claws sank into the fur I feared that something rather disturbing was going to take place.   There was a momentary sucking noise, and then the creature was bathed in light.   As the light faded away, it revealed a man in his sixties with the equivalent of my weight around his midsection and an oversized backpack that seemed to be coming apart at the seams.

"Better?" he asked.

"No." I preferred it when he wasn't human.

He sighed, "This again? What have I gotten myself into?"

"How should I know?" He laughed at that response.  

"You hungry?" He looked at me and took a couple overly cautious steps back.   I'll admit that I glared at him, but I didn't expect him to back away.

"Relax kid, I only react.   You don't try anything and I won't."

"Fine.   Who are you, and what do you want with me?"

"My name is Mel, and I'm offering you a chance."

"I'm listening."  I didn’t expect him to say anything worth listening to, but as long as he was talking he wasn’t attacking me.

"I'm looking for a very specific child."

"And I'm guessing you’re going to say I'm this child, right?”

"Not necessarily.   Here's how it works; there's an item in my bag that may belong to you.   All you have to do is touch it and we'll know for certain." He said as he placed a furry mask on his left shoulder.

"If it's not mine?"

"Then you'll spend the rest of your life as a mental vegetable."

"Oh, that kind of item," I tried to smile, but I’ve never been very good at it.

"Listen, I'm serious here.   I've tried five different children now, and now they're as good as dead."  There was something strange about his voice, but I wasn’t sure what.

"Why would you do that?"

"Walk with me." He brushed past me, and just for a moment I felt a slight charge come from his backpack.   My forearms burned for a moment, and then there was nothing.

Okay, I'm interested.

He led me to a boat just a few minutes away.   My better judgment screaming at me, I boarded the boat.   Strange, there were no oars, nor any other means of controlling the boat, but the instant that we were both aboard the boat began to move of its own accord.   I could hear no motor, nor did it feel like we were actually moving; I only saw the shore moving away.

He took off his backpack, and as he began to open it a box seemed to jump out.   I looked at the package for a moment, and was fascinated puzzled by its strange glow before noticing that it seemed to be getting closer.

"I don’t believe it," he said, his voice barely noticeable over my curiosity.

Thoughts beyond me now, I reached down and picked up the box.   As I tried to open the box, I noticed out of the corner of my eyes that the newest scars on my arms were glowing slightly and even fading away in some cases.

The box began to grow very hot until parts of it burned away to reveal a silver mask with four blue eyes.   The box finished burning away, and the mask settled in my hands.

The boat began to tilt, and then the deck came up to meet me.   What is going on?

The sky was bright, but when did it become day?

I was lying on my side, and feeling the old familiar rocking of my cart.   Maybe I had dreamed everything.

I tried to sit up, but my body decided not to listen to me.   It was as if every muscle was fighting me in a devoted laziness.   I closed my eyes, and somehow managed to tilt my head slightly in a weak attempt to shield my eyes from the sun.

The day crept by, and slowly my body became more willing to listen.   By the time the caravan stopped, and with a conscious effort, I could even manage to walk.   An hour later walking felt normal, but my body sure didn't.   The aches and pains that I had come rely on were gone, and instead were replaced with a strange energy that seemed to course through me.

For a moment I allowed myself to relax, but thankfully dumb luck allowed me to notice the growl coming from behind me.   I started running.   There was no way I was going to die tonight.   Now, the future held something new.

As I ran, I took notice of the sounds behind me; it was a coyote or something similar.^[2] It was almost on me when an arm grabbed me and pulled me off the ground.  

"You can stop running now," said Mel.

"Thank you."

His boat was now sliding effortlessly over solid ground, pushing rocks out of the way without touching them.   He reached into his backpack and pulled out a sandwich wrapped in something clear.   "I said I'd feed you, didn't I?"

The coyote was still chasing after us, but now it didn't seem to be much of a threat.   "Where did you come from?"

"I've been following you all day."   That wasn’t very reassuring.

"You returned me to my cart?"

He shrugged, "not that I'd call it much of a cart.   It’s more of a wheelbarrow really.   I didn’t know when I took you back that you were in such horrible conditions.”

"Why are you doing this?"

"Remember when I told you about the other children?"

I nodded.

"I made sure that every one of those children made it someplace where they could be taken care of by people who may very well be able to help them.   I'm not about to leave you to die."

The coyote turned away after deciding that I wasn't worth the hassle.

"Where's the mask?" I asked.

He laughed, "Check your left shoulder."

I turned to examine my shoulder, something was underneath my sleeve.   As I lifted my sleeve I saw the mask clinging tightly to me; silver veins growing from it and hugging my skin.

"You're lucky," Mel said, "I've never seen a mask take to anyone like that before."

"Huh."

"Alright, alright." The boat came to a stop under a dead tree.   "I can't tell you everything, but I can give you information that’s not restricted.   Would that help?"

"Yes, but why are you holding back?”

“I know it’s frustrating, but there are rules that I have to abide by.   Trust me, I want to tell you everything, but if I do that you could end up in a lot of trouble.”

“Okay, I guess,” trouble with whom?

“First off, you will die if anyone removes that mask before it's ready to let go of you, so don't try anything.   Okay?"

"Yeah, sure."

"Good.   What do you know about your mother?"

"Not much."  Children around here were taken from their parents almost immediately after birth, and naturally the children of privileged families are exempt from this rule.   As far as what most children, including myself, went through… I’d rather just say that it explains why I’ve been afraid of deep for most of my life.

"That’s really not surprising." He pointed to my mask, “What you need to know for the time being is that mask is part of your inheritance so keep it safe."

"What is it?"

He motioned to his own mask, “Among our people, these masks serve many purposes.   You’ll find out what those purposes are eventually, but I can tell you that everyone’s mask is different.”

“Why?”

“Among other reasons it’s because our masks are synonymous with our names.” I stroked my mask gently.   I have a name.^[3]

 “Of course there are other reasons for our masks.”

“Like what?”

"Legally, all that I can tell you is that our people need these masks for our very survival."

"Wait a minute, our people? So there are more of us?" An honest smile touched my lips for a moment, although I can’t believe that I didn’t notice him saying that earlier.

Mel glared in disbelief, his head slowly turned as he tried to articulate an answer, "Barely.   We’re dying out and that's a sad fact.   I can only hope that you'll meet others.

"Your mother had to leave after you were born, but only because of our laws.   When you're fifteen, she'll be allowed to come back here for you.   For now however, that mask has to be your guide.   I really wish that I could stay with you or offer some advice, but there are other children that I have to find.   Hopefully they'll be easier to identify than you were."

"So where do I go now?"

"That's up to you, but the remains of a town lie a few miles behind you.   You should be able to hold up there rather well.   That is of course assuming that you don't want to go back to your caravan."

"Thank you."

"I never asked your spoken name."

"People call me Len."

"Is that your name?"

I looked away and started trying to unwrap the sandwich, but the clear film was stronger than it appeared.

"Do you actually have a name?" he asked.

I started to answer him, but the words seemed to head towards my gut rather than my head.   All I managed to do was shake my head.

Mel said what I assumed to be a curse which was followed by, "I will do what I can to send you help Len."

I finally managed to open the sandwich, and started gagging.

"What the…” I said.   I’ve never been one to turn away food in any condition, but this was beyond anything that I can handle.

"The dressing must have gone bad, and that was my last one too."

I carefully rewrapped the sandwich and handed it back to him, "I'll find my own food thank you."

"Very well." He reached into his pocket and pulled out two pieces of metal, "here."

He tossed them to me.   They were ammo magazines, the bullets had triangular casings.   I looked at him, "I don't understand."

He started to open his mouth, but then thought better of it.   "I’ve seen guns like that before, but not in a while.”

I stood up and said my goodbyes.

"You're leaving already?" Mel asked.

"For the first time, I think I have somewhere to go to."

Location: Verr.   Two miles from Len

Ivera on the other hand was having her worst day yet.   She had only been on her own for two days and her clothes were already torn.   Not to mention that her purse was gone.

She walked around for what seemed like years until she found a building.   It was old, broken down, and most likely filled with rodents.   However, it was her only chance of shelter.

She was crying when she tried to open the front door and found it locked, but as she walked she found a window that was open.   She climbed through the window and fell to the floor.   Crawling to a corner, she started wailing, hoping that someone would help her.

Len

The new day was starting as I found the village.   However, it was strange that I felt no remorse in abandoning the caravan.   True, they only brought me along to kill me, but I should feel something, right?

As the sun rose I noticed that I was more aware of my surroundings; sounds that I would not have noticed were obvious as were visual details that I would otherwise have ignored.

Before long, I saw a light that had nothing to do with anything natural, nor any light that I had ever seen before.   I followed the light like a cat follows a toy for the amusement of its owner.  

The light led me to a building, or rather the remains of a building.   It seemed like the light was coming through the walls as if they were nothing more than an illusion.   This building had been a store at one time, and the sign still lay broken out front, decayed by time.

I stepped on the sign, and it crumbled under my boot.   Insects scurried for shelter, and for a moment I believe that I felt sorry for them.

The front door had long ago turned to dust, and the hinges were rusted clean through.   Whatever the light was, it was coming from inside, so I put better judgment aside and entered the building.   Don’t get me wrong; I’ve lived this long by not doing stupid things like going into ruined buildings.  However, this seemed to be insanely important.

There, on an old marble table, there was a single book laid out as though someone had just dropped it before walking off.   The thick layer of dust that had covered the table had been pushed to one side, as if someone had done a poor job of cleaning.

This had been set up, I was sure of it.   Someone had left this book behind recently and for a reason.   Still, the light was so beautiful that it could very well be compared to music.

Without thinking, I picked up the book, and instantly felt the information in the book flow into my mind.  

This book was full of designs, recipes, incantations and more.  It was supposed to be a book of magic, interesting.   Something told me that the book was real, but I didn’t know what. If it is real, why would someone leave it out?   Why was it the only thing in the building that wasn't falling apart?  

Wait, this book remembered something, as strange as that sounds.   Someone had been here about three months prior.   I didn't know who it was or why they had left the book behind, but there was evidence that someone had been here.   I looked around, but there was nothing else in the building of note, or value. Everything had either decayed or been stolen at some point, although someone looked like they had gone to a great deal of trouble to repair enough of the building to protect the book.   I pocketed the book, and didn’t realize until later that this had been done without my will.

I turned and carefully left the store.   Once outside, I noticed that it was darker than when I went in, but that was impossible.   I looked around and tried to figure out what was going on, but all clues suggested that I had been in the store for a couple hours.  

The store and surrounding buildings were falling apart, so I couldn't stay here.   Then again where could I go? I closed my eyes and 'felt' a strange light a couple miles away.   I sighed, now I was seeing things with my eyes closed.   These past couple days were just too much.

I opened my eyes and started walking.   Before long, I left the swamp behind and was walking through a forest.   I didn't like this area because there were too many trees that could hide predators or other threats.   This place was also where the caravan’s previous ‘Len’ died.

About a mile and a half after leaving the store I began to feel weak.   No, that would have be too polite a description of how I was feeling.   I fell to my knees and was grateful that I hadn’t eaten today.    I needed to stop, but I knew that to do so would be suicide.   I had collapsed in the middle of a game trail, which meant that predators would be along any moment if they were not already on my scent.

I managed to get my feet under me again and continued walking towards my goal.   Whatever that goal would turn out to be.

Fragments of words and thoughts began to emerge into my consciousness as though someone was trying to reach me.   On impulse, I looked up and saw the current goal of my journey, and the words in my mind flowed together telling me that I would find shelter ahead.

I kept walking, and the words started to become whole before transforming into colors and shapes.   Intricate spirals formed and dissolved as circuits of pure color were born and transformed into humanoid shapes for only the briefest of moments.   Then the shapes dissolved to nothing more than color and thought.   The world around me changed and trees and ground were replaced with emotions and long hidden memories that had nothing to do with me.

I remembered the remnants of floating cities, but something about them shook me to despair.   The cities were in ruins, but I remembered when they were whole.   I remembered when the cities were filled with people and not rats.   The mask remembered a woman, taller than any I had ever seen before, but I knew her.   She was my mother.   She had long silver hair that seemed to possess its own will and changed as she turned to look at me.  

 No, she wasn't really here.   It was just a memory.   Still, I could see where I got my black eyes from.   Her face looked as though it had once been sculpted by a skilled artist before she faced a lifetime of hardship.   A small scar floated above her left eye but did nothing to detract from the beauty of her presence.   For a moment I felt that I could hear her voice, but that faded away as my reality reset.  My mother’s face faded from my mind quickly, but her eyes remained.

I needed to survive, but more importantly I needed to find her.   I've always been envious of those who have a real family, and not someone who would kill them for pleasure.   If I found my mother I could have a family.   I could be whole.

Eventually, the trees began to grow closer and closer together until their trunks fused and then separated sporadically.   Somewhere between walking and crawling I finally saw a building amongst the trees.   It must have been a mansion at one time, but now it only existed because the trees were protecting it from the storm to come.  

The front door was locked, but I managed to break the frame with nothing more than my body weight.   The action basically consisted of me falling foreword into the door.

Someone screamed and I heard a table overturn while someone hid behind it.  

"I'm not here to hurt you; I just need a place to…" The ground hit me long after I lost consciousness.

Location: Verr.

Ivy came out from behind the table.   She crawled over to Len and looked the child over.   She noticed the odd way that one shoulder seemed to bulge, and burst into tears of joy when she saw the mask.

Upon further inspection she found the book and flipped through it.   Laughter seemed to echo in the building despite the holes it its roof.

Len.

I found myself floating; or rather I would have been floating if there was a ground or any other surface to judge my location by.   Next to me, a silver figure hovered in a sitting position.  

"Who are you?" I asked.

The sounds of its words came and departed before the meaning of the words came into existence.   "I am called Jik."

"I know you, don't I?"

"We are one." It pointed to my shoulder.

"My mask."

He tried to nod, but the end result was his head folding into his body.   "The book awakened me.   Freed me."

"I don't understand."

"Your touch absorbed the knowledge from the book and some of the magic that it held."

"Keep going."

He laughed.   "I allow you to absorb knowledge directly.   All you need is physical contact."

A ripple passed through the space we occupied, "what was that?"  I asked.

Clouds began to appear around us; they were every shape and color and some even seemed solid.

"The construction has begun."

"Construction?"

"You need a world inside of you to house the knowledge that you now possess.   Therefore, a world is coming into being."

"What do I have to do?"

"You are already doing it, or rather the parts of yourself that relish the night are.   A pity that you’re not actually asleep.”

"Relish the night?"   I ignored the comment about being asleep because I had already come to the conclusion that I was still awake.   My dreams were always the same, and nothing like this.  

"The parts of you that contain what humanity considers dark.   The parts of you that don't revolve around emotion, or attachments, and don't answer to others."

“The evil parts?”

“Not evil, just different…independent.   I can’t think of a better way to phrase it.”

"Jik?"

"Yes?"

“Do you know my mother?”

"Why do you ask?”

“Not sure.” I remembered her face for a moment, but then it became a blur.

He sighed, "I only encountered her briefly, but she loves you and is in too much pain for one person to carry.   I don't know her name, nor where she resides.   I don’t know anything about her that you could take solace in."

Jik and I floated for hours in that ever shaping void until I managed to open my eyes.

My body ached, but this was nothing new.   Eventually, I managed to pull myself to my feet…for a moment at least.

After finally managing to stand up I looked around and found myself wondering how this place must have looked when it was new.   However, such questions melted away when I saw a young girl out of the corner of my eye.   I’ve never met or talked to a girl before, but from what I’ve heard she matched most of the stereotypes.

"Hello," I said.  

She hid behind a wall and only gave a weak wave to greeting around the corner that she was hiding behind.

"I'm not going to hurt you."

I stepped towards her and felt the weight in my pants shift.   I still had the gun and magazines, but not the book.

"Was the book yours?" I asked.

"What do you know about the book?" Her voice was like that of someone who had practiced it all her life and suddenly lost any reason to keep appearances.  I’d heard that kind of voice before, and the people who used it never seemed to live very long.

"I know that it contained information about magic, and I know that there's another book like it here." She leaned slightly into view, but only enough that I could see one silver eye.

"I don't know you, but you know about the books."

"Nothing specific.   People call me Len."

"I-Ivy.   My name is Ivy."

"How long have you been here Ivy?"

"Not…not long.   A couple days."

"Relax Ivy.   I am not going to hurt you."

"You're a...” she made a vague gesture towards my shoulder, “What are you doing here?"

"Just looking for shelter."

"No.   This world.   Why are you in this world?" This world?

"I thought that… Wait, where are you from?"

"Phantel.   I'm from Phantel." I’d never heard of that place before, but there was something familiar about the name.   Maybe it was where the book came from?

"Is it nice there? Where you’re from?”

"I want to go home.   Please take me home." Okay, she way too scared to even think straight.

"I don't know how."

"The books show the way.   Please take me home."

"I don't understand.   Come out here so we can talk without the wall."

She was silent for a moment, but then slowly revealed herself.   Her clothes were torn, her skin was bruised, her hair was almost feral, but she still seemed like someone from a better life than I had been allowed.

"See Ivy, was that so hard?" She looked away.

"Ten books.   There are ten books.   Together…they make a… a key."

“A key?”

“To leave this world.”

I’ve never considered myself to be someone who makes snap decisions, but I knew that I what I was about to do could not be undone.

"Take me with you and I'll help you find the books," I said.   She looked at me and started crying.   She ran at me and wrapped her arms around my neck, her tears cleaning off weeks of grime in a few moments.  

"Calm down Ivy, calm down."  I said as a patted her on the back gently.

"Please forgive her, she's not normally like this," said a feminine voice that seemed to come from our surroundings.

Ivy quickly let go and ran back behind the wall.   I heard whispering and decided to see what was going on.  

"This isn't helping matters Ivy," said the voice.

"Do you want to scare off our only friend here?"

"Basing friendship on Len’s people doesn't help you."

"It's all we have Tal."

I cleared my throat.   Ivy gasped and looked at me before hiding her hands behind her back.

I pointed to my mask, "This is Jik."

I didn’t know why I pointed at Jik, but it seemed appropriate.   Ivy brought her hands out in front of her and pointed to her bracelet, "This is Tal."

"Good… Is it still morning?" Ivy nodded, "Then good morning Tal."

"What are your intentions towards Ivy?" asked Tal.

"Intentions?"

"Yes."

I sighed, "I don't have any intentions.   I just think that we can help each other." She was so scared, and alone.   This was not like me, or rather it’s nothing like what I was raised to do.

"You talk strangely for…what you are."

"Meaning?”

Tal began to speak, but Ivy cut her off, “Nothing right now.”

My stomach growled.   Way to break the dramatic tension stomach.

“There’s fruit upstairs,” Ivy said in half a voice.

“Please show me.”

She nodded and tentatively led me to a stairwell that was only barely strong enough to support one of us at a time.

I whispered as softly as I could, “What do you think Jik?”

“I think that she’s in a great deal of trouble.”

“That much is obvious.”

“I also think that you should help her.”

“Same here.”

I followed Ivy up the stairs after making sure that it could take my weight.   She wasn’t kidding about the fruit.

Limeapples^[4] covered the rooftop.   I saw Ivy pulling with all her weight on one, and ran over to stop her.

“You’ll just hurt yourself doing that.”

“Then how do we eat them?”

“Take a step back.”

As she did, I reached down and pulled out a knife that I kept in my boot.   I’ve never met anyone who checks boots..   With a quick slice through the stem the apple came free.   I cut off a section and handed it to Ivy, “Don’t bother trying to eat the skin, or you’ll end up with a nasty surprise.”

I shouldn’t have bothered to say anything because she was finished with the fruit before I even opened my mouth.

“Ivy, if I’m going to help you I need to know more about what is going on.”

“At my school….Failure has consequences.”

“What do you mean?”

“The ten worst students have to leave and take a…test.”

“The ten books?”

She nodded, “One book per student.”

“So what is going on?”

“The ten students have to use the books to make a…signal of sorts.”

“A signal to whom?”

“To our home.   The signal will show that we are capable of using the magic and worthy to return.” I sliced off two more pieces of fruit and gave her one.

“So, if you don’t finish the signal then you’re stuck here,” I said before I chewed on my piece.   I’ve never like bitter food, but I’ve also never turned down food.

Having finished her piece, she nodded.   I handed her the rest of the apple and cut down another piece, but she was finished before I started cutting.

We talked for a few more minutes, or twenty apples worth of time.   I have never seen anyone as hungry as this girl before in my life.  

“I’m guessing that you haven’t eaten recently.”

“My metabolism is…odd.”

“Good enough.”  I said, realizing that I wasn’t going to get any more information from her.

She walked back downstairs, and I took stock of what she was wearing; a jacket with a light shirt underneath, a skirt that clung to her even when she wasn’t moving, and shoes that would be useless for long distance walking.   Her brown hair was long and matted, but I could just barely make out bits of red if I looked hard enough.  

   Still, it was the symbols on her clothes that drew my attention more than anything else; or rather it was the fact that I could recognize the symbols.   Most of them were for various forms of luck, but a handful seemed to serve almost medicinal functions.   I wish I knew more about them.   All of them were torn or damaged, but still seemed to glow faintly.

I stayed up on the second floor for a few minutes, but I still couldn’t shake a strange feeling that things were going to continue changing.

We stayed up late that night, talking about the book that I had brought, and Ivy even produced a second book that to my eyes glowed brightly.  

The next morning, we set off as early as we could.   I didn’t know what happened to me lately, but I know that I like it.   A few days ago, I would have let her die, but now that seemed like a fool’s choice.  

I could see the third book as clear as it was day; even with my eyes closed.   It seemed to have a pull on me, as did the second book that Ivy carried.   Every time that I looked at her, I saw her reading the book and I was nearly driven to salivation.   The books held power, and I knew this.   However, the knowledge inside them seemed to awaken some dormant hunger within me.  

A foul stench filled the air.   It was as if decay itself had walked through here too recently.

"Ivy, put away the book."

"But I need to know this."

"What you need to do is survive."

I pulled out my gun and chambered a round.   Slowly, the trees around us were pushed out of the way, and a walking stomach appeared before us.   Walking stomachs are the ultimate mutilation of feral hogs.   Their stomachs and mouths have fused together to produce a stench and a bite that are lethal even to the minimum degree of contact.   They constantly drool, leaving trails behind them burned into the ground.   Many of them are actually born blind and rely on their well-developed sense of smell for survival.

I froze in my tracks, and the beast seemed to focus on Ivy for a moment even though I was closer.   I needed to protect her, but what I was about to do defined idiotic.

"Ivy.   Run.   Now!"

The beast wasted no time in changing targets, nor did Ivy waste any time in setting a new land speed record.   With Ivy as safe as possible I demonstrated a battle tactic as old as the history of warfare.   I ran away.  

Anyone who has tried to outrun a feral hog knows how difficult it can be.   With the stomach on my heels I didn't have time to think.

Jik fed me words and information, but I didn't see any use for it.  

Wait…

There, amongst the information, was something that might help me.   "Seg-gen.   Ten-vrell.   Salg-terhain."

I didn't notice anything at first except for being more tired than I was beforehand.   Still, my legs seemed to feel better and carry me further.  

I slowly began to pick up speed until I was able to keep a maximum ten foot distance between myself and the stomach.    Up ahead was a branch high enough that I would be safe if I could reach it.   Better to test my luck than my endurance which was already betraying me.

I leapt into the air, and somehow managed to land on top of the branch.   For a moment I thought I was safe, but that was before the stomach started gnawing on the base of the tree.   The distinct hissing of acid seemed to fill the forest, and destroy all other sounds.

I pointed my gun down at the stomach and fired.   Most hunters will tell you that gut shots are amongst the messiest kind of injuries, and this creature was close to two hundred pounds of stomach.   Three shots passed through skull with unnatural ease, and released a pool decaying matter from the stomach's body.

It squealed in pain as the acid burned its heart and it fell to the ground with death shivers.   I jumped off the branch and managed to land readily for a moment outside the pool.

I fell to my knees in exhaustion, but a few minutes later I was walking again.   I could feel the pull from the book that Ivy held, so I started heading in her direction.  

“Jik, what did the spell do?”

"It canceled our inertia for a few minutes and gave us an increase of speed.”

Inertia, the resistance that all matter has, to sudden changes in momentum.   How did I know that?   The book.   It had to be the book.   I hoped beyond all reason that I wouldn't encounter anything for some time, because I didn't have the strength to do that twice in one day.

"Jik, you know everything that I absorbed from the book.   Right?"

"Correct."

"Is there any way that you can….What's the term?"

"Take inventory?"

"That's it."

"It will take some time, but yes."

"So, exactly what are you anyway?"

"A mask."

"I understand that much."

“You’re just talking to stay awake, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

"Understood.   Your people are sickly by nature, and have been this way for longer than recorded history."

"Please continue.”

"Masks like myself, are designed to keep your body working as best as possible to extend your life."

"I could have used you a few years ago."

"Traditionally, we would have been united when you were born, but that was not possible."

"Why not?"

"Your mother was too far from home to attain a mask for you.   When your people recalled her she couldn't even take you."

"You know this and not her name?"

"She never said her name, just how much she hated what happened to you.   How much she regretted leaving you." I stopped walking for a moment, and allowed emotions to flow through me for a moment.  

"I hope that I meet her soon."

"As do I."  I continued walking, but my body was wearing down quickly.

"Hey, will I be able to change like Mel did?"

"I don't have that function yet, but maybe you will find a way to attain it someday."

I fell over and barely managed to hit a tree rather than the ground.

"Do you know what is so special about my gun?"

"No."

"Rather blunt aren't you?”

"Only when it suits the moment."

It was about twenty minutes later when we found Ivy hiding in a tree, but it took more than an hour to talk her down.   Still, it was strange that the stomach was hunting alone.

Best to just accept when things go right.

Location: Chasm City.        

Miles away from Len and Ivy lies a place called Chasm City.   This is where Len grew up and where events that shall shape the future are beginning.

There, lays a 'fortified' structure made of bits and pieces of tanks, buildings, pretty much anything hard to destroy.   Inside the structure is a completely different matter however; it is filled with people who look and act like royalty.   This is the home to one of the smaller 'crime families’, or what counts as them.

They're in the middle of a banquet that could easily feed more than fifty people, with only fifteen people at the table.   Anything they don't eat will be thrown away.   At the head of the table is a man in his eighties, his mind mostly gone due to an easy life of no expectations.   The woman by his side is young, barely twenty, but her mind is little better due to training and conditioning.