VOLUME

- II -

O'taomon | The Empire of Eraat: I

"It is said the god of creation bore two sons with the goddesses of night and day. These sons bore themselves the children that populate the heavens."

A'ten Akhetaan

'Musings' Volume I

It has always been a comforting sensation when the leviahtran lifts and accelerates forward. Olivia enjoys being a passenger. That she could operate a machine of this kind sparked her imagination. Riding a ringed serpent, soaring across the sky to new and far off lands.

This thought tickles her and she has to stifle a giggle. She'd been reading too many fairy tales lately, something to occupy her mind. These thoughts come to mind when the leviahtran meanders the streets like a serpent.

She produces a book from her canvas satchel, a collection of short stories from various authors, and begins reading.

There were little to no passengers aboard, but as her journey progresses, the seats are gradually occupied.

Olivia has only a few moments to recognize her stop.

She parts the crowd, excusing herself as she narrowly misses the platform. A few onlookers bear concerned expressions.

"Are you alright madam?" An adolescent boy approaches her. "I saw you almost fall down."

"Quite alright, I almost missed my stop is all." Olivia straightens her scarf. "Thank you. I'm running late, good day."

She proceeds to exit the station, the crowd quickly forgets her blunder and moves onto other topics. The streets are, as she anticipated, filled with pedestrian traffic.

Olivia makes her way through an arched entrance, and into a capacious hall with plenty of entryways to occupy one for the day. Fortunately she'd studied the map prior and shuffles her way to the appropriate lecture hall.

It was empty.

She worries she might've entered the wrong hall by mistake when a voice comes from behind.

"I wouldn't be too worried about it."

Olivia jumps, she turns toward that voice when she recognizes it belonging to the adolescent from earlier. "Oh, it's you. Why wouldn't I be worried?"

"Professor Evrim never makes an appearance on the first day, she prefers her students to acquaint themselves with their other studies and have their affairs in order for the next lecture."

"So this is the correct room?" Olivia relieves a sigh. "Sounds to me the professor just doesn't plain want to be here."

"Oh that's not the case, it's always a bit rowdy in the beginning, everyone has other things on their mind, particularly on the first day." The adolescent bows. "My name is Halil."

"Well I suppose I will feel a bit at ease next time." Olivia returns the bow, "Olivia."

"Since we're both free at the moment, would you like to get something to eat?" Halil smiles politely.

"I could eat," Olivia agrees.

Halil escorts her through the streets and into a bustling park. "You have to try this," from a popular vendor Halil places and order of what Olivia recognizes as stuffed flatbread. Halil leads her into the shady cover of a tree.

An assortment of spices and flavors dance in her mouth. She catches herself smiling and thanks Halil for the food.

"It's no problem, I don't like to eat alone." Halil takes a mouthful.

"You're awfully young to be attending university." Olivia wonders.

"Am I?" He smiles, "there are a lot younger students. You'll see them."

They finish their meal until either speak. "Your accent is a little different, are you a foreigner?"

Olivia couldn't find the words to respond. Her story was just too strange. So she improvises. "Where do you think I'm from?"

"It's not from the city…" Halil bears a ponderous expression. "I'd say somewhere rural. In Etraea?"

"I suppose I am," Olivia laughs. Much of the literature she had accumulated were from the Etraen age. "Though I only recently learned Shirhhashaht."

"You must be from the southern regions then? Why travel so far?" Halil listens with earnest interest.

Olivia collects her thoughts for a moment, it would make sense. She once recognized a few foreigners' speech as her own. "Yes I am, though I can't do much traveling anymore. I'm sort of stranded here, so I'm trying to make the most out of this situation."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Halil says comfortingly. "Your Shirhashhaht is excellent."

"Thank you," Olivia bows. "May I ask where you're from?"

"I am from the city. Have been for generations." Halil picks himself off the ground, assisting Olivia. "We should be going back now."

Gratefully, Olivia had not missed her next lecture. She kept an avid routine throughout the day to keep her studious aptitude. By the end of it, she allows her mind to cease.

The commute home was pleasant enough, and with the stipend the university provided her, she purchases an assortment of food items from a street vendor along the way. By the time she enters their apartment, a few hours remain before dusk.

Logan has taken up his usual perch on the windowsill. He stretches his limbs when she shuts the door. "Well," he yawns. "How was your first day?"

"Almost missed my stop and almost missed my first lecture." She prepares some of the food items on platters.

"Sounds about right," Logan yawns again. "What have you got there?"

"Food, come on, let's eat." Olivia spreads out the platters on the floor. Logan joins her and the two dine.

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"Make any friends?" Logan nibbles on a piece of beytil bread. "Or did you accidentally forget there were others?"

Olivia laughs. She sips on a bit of pomegranate wine. "I did meet this other person. Halil."

Logan pauses, "I'm sorry what was the name?"

"Ha-lil," she clarifies. "What did it sound like I said?"

"Oh, I just missed that last bit," Logan finishes his beytil and picks up another. "Were the professors nice to you?"

Olivia sifts through her memories. "They were okay, seemed more occupied with their lecture. It went quite well, not as difficult as I'd imagined."

"Don't get ahead of yourself now," Logan pours himself a drink. "This is only your first day."

Olivia finishes the contents of her cup and settles it at that for the day. "Are you on duty for the night?"

"Yes," Logan settles his cup and seals the wine.

"You haven't had a day off since… I can't even remember." Olivia stretches her legs. "Is everything alright?" She picks herself off the floor.

"It has, hasn't it? Everything is fine. We just had some trouble awhile back and everyone's on edge." Logan gathers the plates and brings them to the basin. "I've nothing better to do on my free time, other than getting sloshed at any rate."

Olivia sighs, "Alright," she packs the remaining food items she'd set aside earlier into a wooden box. "Everything has been so strange lately, I can't explain it."

Logan fills a large cauldron with water and sets it in the fireplace to heat. "This isn't about the amnesia, is it?"

Olivia secures the box in a firm wrap. "It's not just that. Whenever I am asked something, who I am, where I'm from, who's my family, I can't answer." She looks up, realizing Logan had been watching her work. "Well?"

"What can I say to that? I've been dealing with this a lot longer than you. Trust me when I say give it some time." Logan peers out the window. "Your own history will come, and you sort of just find your own way." He notices Olivia listening intently. "Come on then. Tell me something you learned today while we wait for the water."

Olivia agrees on the premise she needed to revise her notes. She recites the bulk of her lectures with her own commentary when Logan suddenly springs off the ottoman and makes for the bubbling cauldron.

He handles it bare handed and sets it on the floor to cool. Then he grabs a pair of cloth and hoists it toward the basin where he pours enough to clean the dishes.

Olivia, wide eyed, watches this scene from the sofa.

Logan attends to the basin. "You can keep going," he turns around. "You said you needed to revise." He directs a soapy spoon at her, "revise."

Olivia stifles a laugh and proceeds to read from her journal.

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Logan secures the lunchbox to his sash, slips into his leather breastplate, and unfastens the spear from the wall. He prods Olivia who had fallen asleep.

She opens her eyes groggily, "is it that time already?"

"Yes, I set out the stuff to dry. There's enough warm water if you're wanting to bathe." Logan hops onto the windowsill, staring down a six story drop. The wind tousles his hair and he jumps. He twirls the spear, guiding the wind to elevate his descent until he lands with a light thud.

"Running a bit late aren't we?" Khamul, a street vendor with a steaming trolley calls down the street.

Logan answers with a wave before taking off at incredible speed. Before colliding into a busy street, he jumps, landing on a rooftop. The viziers' palace gleams far across the strait of the Ashhad and Ethrisia.

He speeds forward, hopping over alley gaps, and billowing across wider streets, moving like a darting shadow.

Upon arriving at the shoreline, he catapults himself across the strait, penetrating the air with his spear. When at last he arrives on the opposite shore, he gives himself a second to catch his breath.

A few passersby are startled by his sudden appearance. Though they hardly have the time to register his features when he speeds forward, gaining enough momentum to propel himself atop another roof.

In the nick of time he lands in the guard's courtyard to the sound of applause. Logan catches a few people exchanging crystaires.

Ahmet, a swarthy guard with a thick beard slaps him across the back. "We all thought you weren't going to show."

"Did anything happen today?" Logan murmurs.

Ahmet's face takes on a serious glint. "Just the usual squabble." Ahmet lowers his voice to a whisper. "The captain is furious, he's considering a raid on their headquarters."

Logan indicates he heard this with a nod. Captain Emir had a temper, and a raid after the last few days did seem inevitable. "Let's hope it doesn't come to that."

Ahmet grins, "losing your nerves are we?"

"Not before you wet your pants." Logan laughs alongside Ahmet.

Fortunately, the Captain did not think it necessary for a raiding party. He tasks everyone to patrol the palace with a few groaning responses. Logan relieves a sigh. Simple work.

Everyone breaks off to their own devices. Fortunately, Logan was ordered to the highest level of the palace, where he could comfortably snooze away the hours if things didn't get interesting.

The celestial sisters Sohm, Seli, and Tsu, illumine the world from the nakedness of the night sky. Logan perches himself in an alcove far above the palace where all of O'taomon dazzles his panorama of sight.

Nothing eventful occurs long into the night, so he drifts his gaze toward the sky, recalling all the stories Olivia read to him. Mortal dreams of gods.

He yawns and unfastens the wrap she had prepared for him. With the company of the celestial sisters, he lunches. The box contains his favorite foodstuff, beytil, goat cheese, fig, and spiced tuna.

After securing the box to his waist, he jumps from the alcove. The night is getting noticeably chilly. The courtyards, streets, alleys, as they could be seen from above, appear to be empty, save for the patrol.

Logan takes a break from patrol and dangles his feet in the peristylium. The gardens inside were medicinal, he might have wandered in the apothecary's ward.

Shuffling footsteps.

Logan peers down, a suspicious figure draped in heavy garb with face concealed, skulks through the garden. Logan wagers his option to call the guard, but decides against it.

The figure scuttles about, analyzing each plant with the occasional lookout.

The temptation to confront the intruder subsides when another voice acts on his impulse.

"What have we got ourselves here?"

The voice belonging to the newcomer is adorned in black and white fabrics with three crescent moons embroidered down the back of his obsidian cloak, his face also concealed.

Logan commits every detail to memory.

"I might ask you the same." The first intruder holds a bundle of plants.

"Gathering herbs for a nice meal I don't suppose?"

"For a midnight snack, yes. Yourself?"

"I came for a different reason, something a little more… sinister."

"Well I'm not one to question shady characters, I'll just be on my way."

"But I see you've already gathered the ingredients I need." The second figure looks about ready to pounce. "A light snack you said?"

The first figure attempts to dash for the exit when the second produces a shroud of dark mist.

Logan rises onto his feet intending to alarm the patrol when the mist gathers to form the body of the dark hooded figure, locking the first intruder in an arm triangle.

"Now let's see what's under this mask." The dark figure tears the fabric from his victim's face.

Logan's heart skips a beat.

Garrett.

"Ahh," the dark hooded figure's voice reverbs. "So this is what is hidden." He produces an obsidian blade radiating a moonlit aura.

Logan takes a deep breath, brings his mid finger and thumb to his mouth, and blows.

The night shrills with a deafening ring.

The dark hooded figure shifts his attention to Logan, Garrett is limp in his arm. The two lock gazes for a time, until the patrol enters the vicinity. Garrett slumps to the floor, then the night is filled with dark mist.

"Careful of the mist!" Logan warns the others. But just as the mist came, it vanishes.

Logan's attention shifts back to Garrett with the vague recognitions of a time he'd long since forgotten. Looking lifeless.