Arcfire
Chapter 4
by E. E. Bowers
Why, you certainly want to know how in the name of Hades this world came to be. Well, you’ll never know. You’ll just have to use that ill-exercised aspect of your mind called an imagination. Of which, of course, humans are lacking. Too busy sucking down chocolate-covered hamburgers and spreading peanut butter on pizza whilst your intelligence is sucked away by your smartphones. Why are they really called smartphones? Why, it’s obvious. Because when you use them, you won’t be smart anymore. Go on. Take a moment or two to process what we just told you. We know it takes a bit of time for your silly little puddles of neurological matter to process ideas, even simple ones.
Ah! There you have it! As indicated by the extra amplitude to the infrared signatures of your faces, it seems that you finally comprehend that most recent bit of information. Which is an insult, for those of you who have not yet fully caught on!
Not that there is anything in the way of what you can do about it, really. We could your mothers going back millennia, and your rage would serve naught but to increase our amusement. So goes because you cannot reach us! You can barely take the miserably piddling step from your planet’s surface to the sole satellite in the night sky, let alone crossing the depths of space and into other universes besides!
And using chemical rockets! Oh, how quaint! Some of our children play about with such things. Troublesome, nasty things, by the way.
What? When we say nasty, are we talking of our children or talking of their play-about with chemical propulsion? Why, both of course! Just as atavism gives your own offspring the urges to be tree-climbing troublemakers with a love of fruit, our offspring would be more inclined to eat your offspring. And in the natural course of things, our children tend to eat the weaker amongst them. Natural course of events, that would be natural selection. Keeps our species quite able and adept by allowing the smartest and most wise to reach adulthood. You might learn something from that. Or rather, you would…if your miserable little masses of neurons could learn much of anything at all—not without it being pounded into your brains every year for a decade or so of so-called education.
So there you have it. We won’t bother in the least to reveal the grand sweep of history which makes up the world which Aia currently inhabits. This world into which Aia was swept away and simply dropped down into, like a thrent on a tepatan flat. And like a thrent, such a game-piece has its uses. Like removing an eardrum or other sensory-auditory organ from your opponent when he loses.
What’s that? Still at it, eh? Still want to know about the origin of this world? We see you substituting the use of your frontal lobes with the use of your motor cortices. Thumbs bopping about the little touch screens on those (ersatz) substitute brains of yours. Because, you are trying to find the origin of whatever planet Lord Morkudum is rendering his antics. Moreover, we haven’t even told you the name of the planet itself! We simply identified the verbal label given to the primary landmass named after the before-mentioned right-balmy smooth-brained bastard. (No, he’s not really smooth-brained. Just a touch of exaggeration, but not by much.) You can try to find the origin story of the planet by inquiring upon your miserable computer networks.
And you will fail. You will be provided answers on the Internet in regards to such questioning, but who-ever dares to believe such answers are correct? Much as sub-par essays are there for you to download and given a failing mark for accordingly, there are a great many answers in regards to the origin story of this world….and none of them correct at all.
Which leaves you to wander and wonder until the end of your days without any true answer being produced. That unshielded nuclear reactor at the center of your solar system will explode, wiping out your planet and all the origins of human ignorance along with it, and you will still also be ignorant in this regard. But worry not, for that yellow star will wait a mere eight-hundred million years before changing its chemical composition and therefore changing the frequency and amplitude of its electromagnetic output. Which is to say, your sun will put out killer death-rays and bake your slowly-turning planet like a slowly-turned apple over a well-stoked campfire. Oh, just so lightly and rightly toasted! Smells devastatingly delicious! Watch the fingers and tentacles now. It's hot.
You may not know what a tepatan looks like or know how to craft a proper time-space inversion, but you do know what apples are. Right? We hope? Both can be found on your planet in one form or another.
Oh, dash it all. Let’s just get on with it. Goodness knows just how anxious you all are to go off and diddle about with your smartphones. Keeps you from chewing off your lesser fingers in boredom. Do you not realise how much you need prehensile appendages—especially given your lack of technology to replace them?
…
Back in Master Fromm’s machine-residence, they were also back in the same seats as before. Therefore, no need for us to point out all the relevant details again. Three armchairs, conveniently enough for what so happens to be three bodies in seats. And the star of the show is not the lithe elf-girl of pale-blonde hair, so do stop staring. Or at least listen to who was talking.
Master Fromm flipped a crystal-wood panel on his armchair, then touched a crystal. An invisible resonance took place, and there was suddenly a glow from the right. Also, a crackling sound…
A fireplace. Merely a fireplace. Don’t go all barmy on us. No doubt, you’ve seen fire before. This, even if it only took some two million years or so for you to figure out how to produce it yourselves. And yet, it still fascinates you.
Master Fromm bowed his head. He then inhaled, his beard seeming to take in a breath as well. And his voice took on a somber, somber tone. Invoking the tale as told from generation to generation, so how it goes.
“In the beginning, when all the land was dark… There was a great deal of nothing. Some would consider this a bit of nonsense in and of itself, given how even nothing has a presence of sorts. Yet even the most neophyte of apprentices understands the concept, for there was not even time or space itself. Quite a vacuous concept, really. Lord Morkudum…perhaps more appropriately known as Lord Make-Dumb…would have a hard time of comprehending such. This, even if he has spent most all of his life with an absolute vacuum between his ears! Hah!
“In any event, there was an event…which began a-a-all events! For then, there were three wise dragons that descended from afar. The first dragon breathed dust, and he made the world solid and firm for all the fauna. The second dragon breathed wind, that there would be life in all the creatures of the land. And the third dragon…”
Oh, you should see the look on Aia’s face. How can you not? You’ve been staring at her the entire time! Those huge eyes of hers in that pert face of hers, eyes seeming to take in all the details while her pointed ears did the same. Looks to be that Master Fromm’s tale has taken in another one already.
“And the third dragon, he was grandest of all, for he breathed truth. And the first truth he declared? This is all complete dash! Hah-hah-hah….!’
Now Master Fromm was clutching his belly and drumming his boot-shod feet on the armchair footrest. Quite the opposite reaction, Aia was leaned back and looked just so very disappointed. Apprentice What’s-His-Name was looking between the two and was also quite embarrassed.
“Oh-hoh…! Oh-hoh! Oh, what a joy!” continued Master Fromm after something of a recovery. “The lads and lasses of this world are none for tales and legends for overly long! Unless they are bits and confused scrapples of half-truths regarding long-lost crystal caches that promise wealth, glory, or something so useless as immortality, they will listen not. Which is also to say, there are far too many unverified accounts of idiocy leading lunatics astray in the wastelands.
“But, every lad knows the actual story of which the people of this world came to be. This is given how crystal-prophets have preserved knowledge enough in proper form, that it may be told to confused females of the skyfall variety should they choose to listen. And you are listening, so here we shall go.
“In the beginning…and not so far back a beginning as to have something even less than a vacuum…the skyfall people sailed the stars in grand ships of seemingly impossible power. Which is also so much dash in and of itself, given how the power would have had to have been possible, for an impossible power source could not function. Another bit of neophyte apprentice knowledge, especially given how the occasional apprentices will attempt crafting a crystal-golem prostitute…!”
There were two people in the room capable of attempting such a feat, and yet there was one whose face was not covered with mammalian foliage enough to hide such a thing. He in question had turned to look away, but his cheeks were already alight. Yes, as bright aflame as the mismanaged forests of the American state of California.
Interesting how Americans call them states. Everyone knows they’d be better off with more appropriate titles such as provinces or prefectures. Or, just go with provinces as what any half-decent democracy does these days. Oh, and have yourself a nice little parliament that gets overthrown on an irregular bases—also much like what most every other democracy does these days. In any event, if you did have a form of government that could be shown the door every single last time there was disappointment to be had, then perhaps rich idiots would not be allowed to build their (highly flammable) wooden mansions in (highly flammable) forests?
Thank goodness there are no forests hereabouts. Only growkilns amidst the plains to make wood-like products from ground minerals. But given the temperature of Jakk’s cheeks, who needs fuel for the fireplace?
Master Fromm nodded sagely—all the more effective when one has a beard. “Aye, but the lad was pressured by none other than that galloping troublemaker and his merry band of overly paid adventuring dimwits. Sharp of blade but dull of mind! There is always an inverse relation between keenness of blade versus keenness of brain! All that galloping about on korths to rattle the think-flesh, along with all that ale to pickle what’s left inside that meat spheroid terminating the neck! Jhort the mercenary! Which is the same as saying, professional troublemaker! Going to get himself blasted one of these days, that one.
“Now? Where were we? Ah! Now I remember! ‘Twas an eerie end-of-day on the western stretch, whilst I was enjoying a roasted hand-beast. Grow-kilns between the miles, and plenty o’ means of tempting the feathered little idiots to their delicious doom! And from the look on your inhumanly flawless face, you cannot tell that I am jesting! You think me mad? If my mind were any further gone than it is, that would leave poor Jakk here to deal with the likes of mercenaries and morons alike. But wait, of what do I speak? There is no difference between the before-mentioned parties!
“More or less turning back-about to the subject matter, there is the matter of how the skyfall people came to populate this world. Or rather, came to have it populated. They were our ancestors, yes. But we are no more of their species than raindrops are of clouds.
“For whatever reason, the skyfall people were rather bored. Bored of gallivanting about hither and thither amongst the stars and worlds. They had the means of going wherever and doing whatever. They had themselves a nice stretch of peace and infinite prosperity, given the infinity of this universe and others.
“But as is the case with any set of humanoids, they had a disagreement. And given their seemingly infinite prosperity and seemingly infinite resources, they decided to take their issues to professional levels. We could say that Sir This or Lord That or Lady Miss Something-or-Other had a spat over just how many feckles are appropriate for an evening’s sweet-dough pie. Which would be a lie, given how the skyfall people need not eat. Or perhaps not a lie, given how some folk are wont to cook for fun…which is an absolutely asinine way of passing the time! Food is for nutrition, not fun! Morons need real hobbies!
A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
“Yes, yes… There was an unusual bit of unpleasantness between the various sides of the conflict. We are speaking of disagreements among people of the stars, which means more than merely the two-dimensionally perceived land conflicts. The skyfall people conducted affairs throughout three-dimensional space and beyond, which amplifies the conflict not just geometrically but also multi-dimensionally. Which is to say, it must have been quite the dust-up! In all likelihood, whole solar systems cooked like hand-beasts! Whole galaxies made into fried delights!
“Total, total metaphysical chaos! An apocalypse would be the destruction of one mere planet. We are talking of the universe itself! Hah! If the myths and legends of there being a cosmic Creator were true, then there would be Him, Her, or It looking on in either absolute disgust or total amusement at the state of affairs. Deity creates universes and beings within, then the beings within go about undoing their own existence…even threatening the fabric of existence itself!
“Which…! Brings us to how and why we lowly mortals are land-bound and why the skyfall children are a rare-rare sight. Note that I distinctly stated how the fabric of existence itself was tattered and torn. Dimensionally so. Multidimensionally so! Rather hard to sail the stuff of the universe in any sort fashion in that way. Given the vast distances between stars and worlds, the ships of the skyfall people need to have folded and bent the universe to come and go.
“But that folding and bending must have been no longer. Again, they had rent and warped the fabric of the universe. No more passing through and among the spaces between the stars with things being the way they were.
“All was not lost. The skyfall people could have been perfectly content where they were, them. Simply floating out and about in what limited space they could safely occupy in…space. Not able to go especially far, not all at once. Given their attitudes compared to what they were accustomed to having, they would prefer to not travel at all. They would have it all or have nothing. And so, they stayed.
“There are any number of worlds out and beyond. But because they traveled so very much, them and their much more advanced crystal-prophets, they knew of where to go or where to be. Some of the skyfall people? They chose to steep themselves in the energy-dreams created by their wondrous crystalline machinery.
“Among their fits of boredom, they had this world seeded with our ancestors. Using aspects of original DNA before their many, many modifications, we were created. And since our first generations were born quite stupid, there were grow-kilns seeded along with us.
“Those humps of clay-like material you see occasionally throughout the land? They grow raw foodstuffs from matter. Hence the name, grow-kilns. Their crystalline roots go deep and suck from the planet and the air the raw matter needed to make anything. Crystals, which means that we can make anything we set our minds to. Provided our minds are developed and trained well enough in crystal-craft, of course!
“Oh, and not only do crystals control everything, crystals power everything. Trace-bits of that wondrous power from the skyfall people, that. I have the frightful idea that if someone were to find a way to tap into the full potential of multiple crystals, then they could destroy entire swaths of land. As affairs stand, the very few and very rare weapons of skyfall children have amazing amounts of power. So much so that mere mortals may not use them without peril of their lives!
“And so there you have it. So here we are. And so, there they are… The skyfall people, out there somewhere, dreaming away amongst the stars until the universe is no longer or some cosmic mishap befalls their ships.
“Such may come sooner rather than later, given how the universe itself has been rent in places. Sinister forces, that. Other beings from other universes, entities of such horrid delights that one may be driven mad merely to gaze upon their physical manifestations! Yes, lass! Ye live in a universe of patchwork tearings, and mayhaps something of all horrors at once may appear to put an end to this world!”
Which had the desired effect. Aia was not born yesterday by the count of Earth, but was born today by the count of this planet. Being a newborn in that fashion, there is no blame for her to tuck her legs in even more tightly and shrink back in her seat. Small elf-girl trying to make herself smaller. Not very effective, especially given her white garment and even brighter moonsilk-pale long tresses.
“Fear not, for such a thing has not come to pass,” added Master Fromm, a sip from his tea. “And even if it did? Well, what good serves fear? Prudence and curiosity serve doubly tandem useful purposes instead.
“Curiosity, it avails us of ways to end what ails us. Some may think it simply a matter of slumbering about in a vat of vasi, which is true for many a physical plight. Not mine, of course. Bound to rely upon footstools and tall, tall apprentices alike in too many city circumstances. We dwarves are poor of height but often rich of currency, for we often do the best of crafting! Wonder on as to why the merchants choose not to make us a priority for the placement and height of their sales counters! A bit of inquiry in that direction could boost the profits of those who serve those who craft crystal prophets, as I always say.
“Which leaves us with prudence. A cousin to wisdom, that. No, a niece mayhaps, for wisdom brings forth all else. Exercising wise caution carries the day. But you have no doubt heard me say it before. And will hear of me speak it again! Certainly a better state of affairs than stupidity and lunacy. No mortal wins arguments against either stupidity or lunacy, the situation worse so when the two combine forces.”
And then, having said that, Master Fromm gave pause. Then a longer pause. He did not sip his tea. No hurry to finishing it all before it went cold. The grow-kiln cups are of a material that traps heat in liquids—and can even heat them at times. Perfectly good cup of tea, lasts all day if he likes. Perfectly good conversation—or seemingly so from Master Fromm’s perspective as limited as that would be. (And no, that is not to spite his lack of height.) Even from where he sat, he could see that there was trouble afoot.
Or a-hoof, rather. You may have your doorbells and your smartphones connected to computer-eyes inside said doorbells. But, such devices cannot see for miles around. And it is illegal in many parts of your world for such contraptions to try and stop connivances by spying. Illegal to record people in public with regards to some of your cities. Rather appropriate, given the stupidity of humanity. (Demanding privacy in public! What a delightfully asinine concept!)
Because Master Fromm saw the crystals above the door flickering red in a pattern that he memorised. That pattern, it indicated the oncoming arrival of humanoid trouble. What kind of humanoid? Or humanoids, plural? Just listen.
“Take her to the spy-eye room!” demanded Master Fromm, putting down tea and popping down from his armchair. “It’s near a workshop! A place of work! No noble would find him- or her- near a place of work!”
Jakk was too preoccupied with fears and concerns over the oncoming potential danger. Korth riders. In your world, we suppose they would be called chevaliers. What? Still don’t quite get it? It is a language of your world—that of French. Chevaliers, or knights. Hence the term chivalry—the grand comportment and code of knights and nobles. But like dragons, chivalry was more myth than legend, and more legend than truth.
…
Because, you see…the nobles of your medieval times were no better behaved than the nobles of your present time. Go on. Claim and proclaim loudly that there are no more nobles, that there is no more aristocracy. Shout all you like. Your boisterous proclamations are merely a psychological tool to shield your frontal conscious proper from the larger truth—that the higher-born of your civilisation and the era before that have always been atrocities.
And for those who still refuse to understand because this is all just so complicated for them, then we will state it explicitly. Knights, nobles, and aristocracy has most always been abusive, vicious, and murderous. Oh, and intent on rape at times. Too many times.
But they did not call it rape back then, even if such was the case. When a knight took to the bed of a peasant woman, it was called right of blood. But why bother with setting down and about in the hovel? Just carry them off, they did. Are we leaving out the fact that there was no age of consent in your Feudal Era? Still think that those murderers and rapists on horseback were the great and wonderful knights in shining armour? Are these too many rhetorical questions for you?
Which also means that the so-called nobles of this world are of no better behavioral quality. Granted, they go about on six-legged beasts with mammalian and arthropodal characteristics that would set your world’s biologists to gnashing their teeth or shrieking in denial—much as the discovery of duck-bill platypi had done so many centuries ago. But the passengers of those beasts do not even deserve the classification of chordata. Brave they may be, they are also quite lacking in scruples.
This is because, also like the aristocracy of your era, they are the law. Their families make the laws—your era being no more a democracy than Soviet Russia being a socialist people’s republic. See that? Regardless of planet or time period or even whatever universe there may be, the one universal…or multi-universal constant holds that nobility will always be liars. And worse, of course. Much worse.
…
Which is to say that the aristocrats of this world are just as horrendous as unbridled, plutocratic aristocrats always tend to be. Which were the sorts of things going through Jakk’s mind as he led Aia back through the short hall-corridor connecting the more habitable part of this residence from the machine-filled area. There was one room in particular which would be of much use. Also, a room to behold much fear.
“This way, my lady,” said Jakk, opening a door that did not seem to be there before. Opened the door, waited for Aia to enter the crystal-lit space, then walked in himself. Closing the door behind him. Now it was just the wall again.
And of course, we will not tell you exactly where this door is. Knowing the likes of you, you’d shout the location to your heroes on horse-back. Or korth-back, rather. Always your love of sword-swinging savages in brutal armour. The very weapons and armour crafted by peasants, also used to rape and kill peasants. When you begin to understand the parallel vis-à-vis your own time period, let us know.
Meanwhile, the is that beholding of fear to have done. Literally beholding. A room from which they could watch what happened elsewhere throughout this tiny three-person settlement. No use out of it now. Aia is in on things.
Jakk sat down at a padded stool, and Aia did the same upon recognising the furniture as such. What Aia also did not recognise were the circles of crafted translucent crystal set in frames before them. Jakk touched some of the smaller bits of crystal and held his hand there. Then they were looking through windows.
Which left Aia somewhat confused. They were supposed to be in an isolated room far and away from the outdoors. And then, these frames were placed facing inside the house—the opposite of facing outside for those amongst you who do not catch the idea. Which is to also say that they should not have open windows looking out at the front entrance. More confusing still were how these indoor-facing windows were looking out at views throughout this little settlement. It was like having one eyeball at a tube-station in Leeds and another eyeball somewhere about the Thames. But there are also multiple eyeballs, given multiple windows…
Aia tried to put her hand through one of the windows to feel the breeze but was stopped by an invisible obstruction. No, these were not windows after all. They were video tele-screens of sorts. And before you go about trying to attach the word digital or that mutilated e or i in front of the names for these things, just be aware that they are not of that sort. These devices are analog—catching and carrying light directly from the scene.
Light teleportation! Hah! Your scientists have been working at that for decades but have done nothing of the sort beyond the laboratory in that regard! No doubt, so goes because they still staunchly refuse to believe that anything can exceed what you believe to be the speed of light. Never mind decades of experiments successfully doing otherwise—such as light going faster than your scientists demand that it should. Also, never mind the existence of an entire branch of human physics studying things going beyond Einstein’s so-called universal constant.
Denying the existence of faster-than-light phenomena. Denying the existence of time travel—even if Einstein’s mathematical antics and other experiments showed that such occurs as matter approaches light speed. (Time dilation is time travel, you bipedal bastards!) Denying the existence of round planets! Just dash it all! Your species is beyond hope! You don’t deserve the intervention of the fellows to save your sorry strands of self-perpetuating DNA, but that’s just our opinion.
Now, such a product of humanity was confused as to why her hand was not going beyond this strange window. And then Jakk was in the uncomfortable position of informing this beloved object of worship about how crystal-crafted far-sight works. And if you think that’s an awkward translation? Well then, just remember they are actually speaking a language that you cannot understand, and this is all just so much transcribing from one world’s tongue to another.
“M’lady, it’s crystal-craft,” said Jakk. See? There you have it. Awkwardly said but briefly so also.
“But it looks so clear!” went Aia, marveling still. Well, as much as a small but adorable animal will ogle and adore a video screen in your world.
We did say small animal—which also means having a small brain. Small and adorable. The adorable part is their claim to survival because great big gullible humans will take them in and adore them and love them and lavish them with…
No! The word lavish does not mean what some of you think it does! Or what you want it to mean! You will stop that presently! Moving on…
Now Jakk had a moment to show off his worth at apprenticeship. Showing off for the ladies… Or, lady in this case. But we are talking about an elfin skyfall child, which makes her worth outshine the combined worth of most all them in town.
Said the male apprentice, “Just as various forms of crystal have allowed you passage between the stars, we have crafted the like for carrying light and sound. But that is just the beginning! Crystal does so, so much more else! And…”
And, look at that. By viewing the crystalline portal of far-sight, the two youngsters could look in on what was going on with Master Fromm. The dwarf himself, was standing broad and firm out there at the very cusp of sunset. (A long sunset, yes. But the last ergs of sunlight get some extra mileage due to reflecting from those multiple moons. Or did you forget about them already?) In your tales of gunslinging heroes, the showdowns go down at—and forgive us for saying this without benefit of hat or spurs—high noon. But it was late afternoon. Very, very late afternoon. So late, it’s actually called evening. Yee-haw, nevertheless.