Chapter 1
Ayla hummed softly as she waited for Geffen. He had found a secluded area where he could try his earth powers and his knowledge of conservation, to see if he could heal the land. If successful, she could take the results back to her family. Maybe then, they would stop raiding other planets and make something of themselves. She thought about the other problems inherent to her race and wondered if there was any way to reduce the mutations of her people. Some of the mutations were visible, but the most destructive was a mental genetic anomaly known as berserking. This was causing grief and heartache within their people. The berserking only showed up during times of extreme stress or anger. When the anger took over, control was nonexistent. Attributed to many deaths, this gene mutation was beginning to decimate the planet as well. Even with helping to heal the planet resources, she was worried about how they would go forward with the berserking mutation. No longer humming, but frowning, she decided to focus on the things she could do instead of those without solution.
Humming again, hugging a new secret to herself, she could not wait to share her surprise with Geffen. He would be overwhelmed with joy, but no more so than she was. Happiness was making her giddy, but she was new to birthing, and still afraid.
She wondered if this new information would make birth even more difficult. Afraid but determined she considered the impact of the news.
Hearing a sound, she turned with a huge smile on her face, expecting Geffen to enter. Shock made her gasp; in front of her were some of the very berserkers from her earlier reverie. The one in front was leering at her.
The painful lurch in her belly rivaled the hard thuds of her heart. Fear was foremost, as she glanced nervously around. The cave was open and she could see no way out of her predicament.
Her voice barely working, she stammered, “What do you want, why are you here?” Her voice was husky, as she tried to force the words out. Fear had tightened her throat, creating dryness, making speech difficult.
"We want some of what the birdman got" the tall one in charge taunted. He knew his comment was crude, but the Eldwitch with their wings and ability to fly made him uncomfortable. Coming at her and looking her over, seeing the unexpected, his leers turned to disbelief, knowing the unborn child must belong to the Eldwitch Keeper. Having a child with an outsider was not acceptable in his culture.
"Look at that, we got us a chick" the big one in the lead said to the others. Disgusted that she had chosen to mate with an outsider, he considered his options carefully. .
He pulled his blade, the scrape as it left his sheath sounding unnaturally loud.
"We’ll have to see if she dies as well as the birdman,” he boasted to the others. “That one was easy; he went down with no effort." Knowing he had no choice, and would lose the respect of his men, he was uncomfortable with what was required. To make such a plan and follow through created guilt. He preferred his berserker state when all sense of guilt vanished.
Tears streaming down her face, she began to plead, if Geffen were gone as they said, she would have to beg. She was not ready to die. She opened her mouth to speak; willing to press for her life, but her words turned into a scream as he took the hilt of his sword and slammed it into her head.
Spitting on the floor, he cursed her, “I will not allow such a foul deed, it cannot be condoned.” He challenged his friends. “She must be made to suffer the consequences of her action.”
She felt blinding pain and as she hit the floor of the cave, she had time for one thought. Oh Geffen, what now? It was her final memory as blackness enveloped her.
Tiny shards of light filtered through the darkness. Each shard stabbed tiny knives into her eyes. Trying to understand through the pain in her head was impossible. Squinting against the glare as she opened her eyes, she tied to take stock of her surroundings. Where was she? She could not remember why she was on the ground. Something sharp was wedged under her left shoulder. She felt stiff and sore, and very cold.
As she turned her head, more pain filtered through, pounding a hammering beat through her brain. Careful to move, trying not to re-create the pain, she felt like she was forgetting something important.
The constant throb of her head was keeping beat to the pulse running through her throat. She could not remember where she was but it felt wrong. Whatever she was lying on was solid, full of sharp objects, and she was cold, even more than cold. Something warm and thick was running down her neck, causing it to itch and tickle. She tried to reach her hand up to brush the feeling away, but could not move her arm. She braved further pounding in her head as she again tried to move, but could do no more than twist her body.
Fear was instantaneous, almost paralyzing. Realizing her danger, she found herself tied to the stone table at the center of the cave. Concern that she could not get loose and being unable to move to any degree caused her claustrophobia to take hold as she began to retch. The burning began first as the bile tried to make its way up her throat.
The retching caused more pain and further warmth to spill from her neck, creating a burning sensation. Pain caused her to further focus, and she noticed that while she could see light, she could not concentrate on her surroundings. In her fear and pain, she saw nothing but mist, but she could feel the dampness and frigid bite of the cold surrounding her.
Suddenly there was further pain–more urgent pain tugging at her belly–and a memory of something important. She could feel her heart, thumping …thumping …in time to the pain from her belly, feeling as if the pain was trying to devour her. A brief thought came from nowhere, a tiny cry, a gurgle, happiness and gratitude, and then memory slipped away.
As claws of agony began to rip and tear through her insides, she felt fear and with fear, came clarity for a swift moment. She was with child, a child that would not be welcome on this world.
The punishment from the renegade tribe was callous, for her, but for her innocent baby as well. She understood the way of her people, fear often drove them, and a mixed child would not be welcome or allowed to live and thrive in certain circumstances. This group of berserkers was part of the old regime, rigid in their belief of purity.
She was bleeding and knew she would die of blood loss, as grief struck she also realized if help did not come, the baby would be born and left alone without attendance.
Feeling a weakness and lethargy come over her, she prayed to the Holy Mother, “Please Mother, bless this birth. Geffen told me you are the Goddess of the land, and see over all. Then see over this crime, and do not leave it unpunished,” she wheezed as pain drew her breath.
She did not believe her attackers with their bravado and bragging about killing Geffen, the Eldwitch were the first race and as such protected by the Mother. The lead berserker seemed unsure of himself, struggling to maintain control of his group, with his bravado.
She fought tears as the pain continued; he deserved the chance to be a father. As further discomfort, tears, and fluids released, heralding the eminent birth, breathing was no longer possible. She felt a taut and crushing pain, the tearing pain signaling birth, yet as tears leaked from her eyes, she knew she could no longer offer the protection needed.
Even as death claimed her, she could hear the howling and snarling of the small group of wolves that lived in the hills. Ayla felt sorrow, as though she had doomed their legacy but soon both her pain and thought slipped away into a final darkness. As that darkness coalesced, she was sure she saw the Goddess Mother smiling, nodding her acceptance of the task.
* * *
As Geffen approached the Southern ridge, just over the periphery of the dessert, he found himself anxious about the opportunity he could see for conservation. Water was scarce but he knew he could use his water magic to intensify whatever was in the ground. Ayla would be suitably impressed by the vast area he had found; the meadow remained hidden in a shallow pocket of lower hills.
He had run across it by accident avoiding the prowling berserkers still roaming the area. It had been more difficult lately, he wasn’t sure why they were in the area by the cave, but he knew Ayla would stay out of sight. It was getting time for childbirth and he wanted to make sure he would be there.
She was getting anxious and afraid the insurgents, those that refused the new order might find her, but over the last six months, they seemed to give up. Yet something had recently brought them to the area again. After this day, he would no longer be scouting until the baby was born.
With the World-Gate sealed indefinitely due to raiding they were prepared to wait. Geffen knew if they did not help heal the planet it would fall and disrupt the stability of the entire Tri-World Empire.
Taking one last look at the hidden valley, he noticed the clouds hovering over the Northern Mountains. That did not bode well for the weather; it was due to snow, the brutal acid snow, not even fit to alleviate the thirst of the land.
He took off at a run, hoping to beat the snow not once looking back. As he neared the summit, he saw a small group of berserkers, the renegades that had been eluding capture, coming down the hill. Snow had just started falling and he had to duck behind rocks to escape notice.
The small group was laughing and talking, appearing quite pleased.. He had a bad feeling, a hurt that felt wrong somehow. When they made their way past, he hurried the rest of the way to the cave. It took much longer than he envisioned, a blizzard had set in and he struggled with direction.
He approached the cave slowly as it came into view; a haunting hollowness filling his chest. Something was not right; there was a strong metallic smell filling the air. The area was muffled, no sound escaped, creating a barrier full of shadows. He knew part of the quiet was the swirl of the blizzard that had started as he reached the bottom of the hill, but this silence was more. It was heavy and purposeful. He could feel the Great Mother even with the damage to this world. He had a premonition of something happening recently and he was afraid. Something was wrong with Ayla. He could feel it.
Ayla" he cried. “No, Ayla," he shouted running into the cave. “Nooo,” he sobbed, as his eyes grew accustomed to the darkness and he saw the destruction inside. Here was the nightmare he envisioned.
Ayla was on the floor of the cave, her body stretched out with hands and feet tied, spread wide to hold her still during birth. Without that, she looked to be sleeping, except for the blood that had run down her shoulders and pooled in her hair. The dishevelment of her robe seemed due to birth of the child.
Reaching down to wipe away the blood, he found her cold to the touch. Horror filled him. The aftermath of birthing was visible, but there was no baby anywhere in the cave.
Knowing there was no help for her, he quickly turned forming a circle; surely, they would not have taken the child. He could visualize them walking down the hill, laughing and joking. The child must be here, there was no bundle or other item with them, nothing other than the weapons they carried.
Feeling a bitter pain in his chest, he continued searching both the cave and the surrounding area. His extended search found no sign of a child anywhere. He could hear the wolves that inhabited the area and with his heart in his throat, and pain radiating throughout his soul he thought he understood. Screaming his frustration and anger to the wind, he felt sorrow to the very marrow of his bones.
As tears rolled down his face and a sob stuck in his throat, he slowly returned to the cave. He approached Ayla’s body, whispering a prayer to the Mother. Sitting, he pulled her body to him and smoothed her hair from her face. Holding her close and whispering his love, he rocked her in his grief, feeling the ache of loss in his heart. He slowly moved her hair back from her face, carefully untangling the strands as he smoothed it. He used the corner of his shirt to wipe at the blood, which had already begun congealing.
As his numbness slowly dissipated, he finally realized she was no longer there. He felt as though he too had died as he watched the scene from above, a vision he had never expected. As the cold penetrated his Allure-bound body, he came back with a jerk, his life shattered. How would he go on? Undone by the evil and viciousness of the murder, and even with evidence to the contrary, his heart refused to believe the baby was gone. His search turned up not the littlest clue to give him hope.
He didn’t know if he could do this without her. He could still feel the heaviness in the air, the smell of wet dirt with just a hint of snow as it continued to blanket the area. The beauty of the fresh whiteness covering the harsh and brutal land muffled the feel of imminent danger for the world.
To Geffen, the smell of the snow, unclean and impure, matched the unclean and impure death of his beloved. The slight chemical smell, overpowered the smell of blood in the cave, but it could not remove the picture of the horrific death from his mind.
Unsure what else to do, he gathered Ayla’s body to take her to the hidden meadow. He looked around the cave, their home for the last few months; it had seemed safe, well hidden from those who might still be looking. He blamed himself for not getting back sooner; he had tarried too long in the meadow trying to get it ready so he could surprise her with their new home. He did not comprehend how he could lose both Ayla and the baby. He struggled to understand, was there something that he had done, something he did not completely grasp? Was this his punishment for stepping away from his duties as Keeper? He was angry, more than he had ever been. He would not leave her here, where she suffered her last indignity.
Taking her body to the meadow with him, he no longer knew if he could stay in this place without her. It was an angry and bitter world, with so much waste, and damage. However, he knew he couldn’t abandon her. He had made a promise. Here she would be with him and oversee the land he had chosen for them, a place dedicated now for their love.
He would save this world for Ayla, who loved it wholeheartedly. He wasn’t sure how he could continue without her but he knew he would. With love in his heart and dismay as well, he found a picturesque spot in which to bury her so she would be eternally with the land she loved. He marked the place so he could sit and visit with her when he could find time.
The pain was overwhelming and he knew he would need to work hard to overcome the feelings that kept hammering at him, pulling at his damaged soul. “Someone will have to pay,” he cried his frustration angrily to the world.
Ayla had wanted what was best for the planet and in his agony; he would do what he could, of what she asked. Her death left a cold, sad place in his heart, but the missing child created a hard and chilling anger, an anger that would drive him to rebuild the planet that was part of both of them.
He would watch and listen and he would try to find the child; he knew chances were slim, but he did not feel the death of the baby, just that of his Ayla. He would not give up, he could not give up, he had hope, and a belief in the Mother. She had a reason for everything and somehow he had become a part of something much larger. There was too much to risk and he knew from experience she would not let him down.
* * *
As cold weather set in, there was not much Geffen could do to prepare the land other than fertilize and make it ready. The snow from the hills did not reach this valley and he was grateful. The acid burned the ground and scorched the nutrients; it would have made what he needed to do even more difficult. The rain was bad enough, but snow sat on the ground for days, sometimes months at a time and the damage would be more severe.
He searched the area to find old, dead plants and other matter he could till into the hard packed dirt to make it more porous and capable of soaking up water. Water was scarce but he would use his magic to bring it to the surface. The rotting plants and animal carcasses would also bring some small nourishment to the soil giving it a better chance, making a home in the spring for new seed and buds. Anything organic would be useful so he found himself pulling up rocks and looking beneath them, digging up rotted wood, and searching for the puny leaves that fell from the twisted trees, those bits of green that still fought the harsh environment of this world.
His plan would take all of this, his magic, and help from the Mother to get a start. He would have to use his mind and muscle to keep it going and keep the unsavory weeds and noxious plants from taking it all back over. Only the most toxic plants seemed to thrive in this once beautiful and arid land.
Saving and helping rebuild the planet would be a challenge, one he had planned with Ayla to help him, a labor of love. The love would still be there, but it would be missing a part of him that would not recover.
He would never have imagined stepping away from ‘Keeper’ duties and losing his father’s pride and honor. Nevertheless, for Ayla he would do anything and if being with her cast him as fallen, then he would accept the designation with grace.
As spring arrived, he was busy, as busy as he had ever been. He missed the camaraderie of spending time with Ayla and wished things had been different; had he been at the cave, could he have saved her and the baby, or would he too have perished? He would never know but he missed her with a burning intensity that did not give way. To keep his mind off Ayla, and what might have happened to the baby, he toiled as hard as he could working the soil daily, mixing it with the debris he could find to soften and feed it, to make it strong.
It would be at least a year before he could attempt a planting, to see if his knowledge and abilities would work. He used a divining rod to find the water beneath the ground, and used his magic to siphon it to the surface. The work was backbreaking yet oddly calming.
The harder he worked the less he thought about his loss, and the more the ground began to heal. The heartache did not go away; his sadness overwhelmed him especially times when he needed to rest. Those were the periods when he could hear Ayla’s lilting laughter, and picture her exquisite face. It was then, during his time of reflection, that he dreaded the most.
The cracked dry land of just a few months before was no longer so dry and crusty. It was slightly moist and smelled of freshness instead of dust and death, which is what most everything smelled like here.
The twin suns were pale yellow and made an exquisite sunset each evening. The sky would turn all colors of pink and blue, and with the soil regaining some of its strength, he was beginning to feel kinder about this place. His sadness was still there but his hate was beginning to soften.
He kept his wings supple through exercise; he did not fly much as the air was still thin and polluted and could create damage to the membranes. He also had no interest of risking discovery, or having his valley found. He intended to try to save this world. Allure remained part of the greater Tri-Planet area and he knew that even before he became ‘Keeper’, his father worried about the fate of its people. Allure was a part of his home–although from thousands of years past, before the splintering–and could not be lost to the neglect it had endured.
The suffering came through the Allure, those who had lost their way. Even now, they tried to change their ways, yet did not know how. They had lost so much over the years, including the ability to ask the other worlds for help instead of stealing what they wanted and often needed.
Although Allure was still strong with berserkers, they had begun a breeding program to reduce the genes that caused it, so while it would always be a part of the race, it would not continue to be the enigma it was now. No one was safe and anger dominated everything when the berserker was in the zone. Tolerating the aftermath for so long, allowing the guilty freedom from the crimes, it had become the pattern.
Now that uncontrollable anger was no longer acceptable, penalizing the guilty was causing a stir. Holding them responsible was something new. This accountability seemed to help reduce the incidents of berserking, but then again, it might have just driven it underground.
Realizing they were responsible for their own addiction to the rub used for forgetting, it was put under strict control and not so easy to get. The strongest users, those who had become addicted, had gone underground, stealing or manufacturing their own supply when possible. While still available, as most drugs are, it was now illegal to have without recommendation and those looking for it otherwise had to have money.
As with everything on Allure, money was also scarce. Conducted by barter, business had changed, clearing the way for the extinction of the drug. The danger was that the underground still had money to buy whatever they needed, and they controlled the renegades creating the problems.
They may have waited too late, not everyone agreed with the new program or progress; they left the city forming bands that preyed on the innocent. Unhappy with the changing dynamics, they reveled in their anger. One of these bands was responsible for the death of Ayla and the disappearance of his child. The city guard was still working at eradicating these small pockets of agitators, but there was still one strong and well-equipped group reported to be operating and supported by the underground. They were full of hate and anger, and Geffen was sure, full of fear as well. In his heart, he knew this group was the one responsible for his sadness.
Geffen had nothing else to do and nowhere to go since the gate closed and he felt he owed this to Ayla and her family. He would create a success of this area and save a small part of the planet at a time. If he could get help from those on his home planet of Eldwitch, it might be possible for them to regenerate the damaged resources. He could only hope enough time existed before the council rendered a decision. Would his magic work soon enough for the planet to become green and self-sufficient once more? Even now, the planet had begun to tremble deep inside.
This Planet was so majestic in the beginning; Allure was the perfect name for such an amazing backdrop. It was unconscionable to have allowed this much damage.
For Ayla he would do his part to bring back some of the beauty and make the planet habitable once more.
He knew it would take some time to make an impact and he would need some luck. Ok, he would need a lot of luck because he could not afford capture. He was an outsider and it would be impossible to hide who he was. Only one race existed with wings and Allure was still bitter that the Eldwitch had not stepped in sooner. They blamed others because they had not put together a plan for renewal. Even now, he could feel a shift in the land, a quake and trembling that would signify further damage. Time was running out.
Chapter 2
Geffen looked out over the softly blowing grain in the field. It was still a beautiful green color and would not ripen for several months. This would be his first full harvest. It had taken more time to coax new life from the soil then he had anticipated. This first harvest had taken him just over sixteen years. He had been determined he would make this work and he had held steady the entire time.
For Ayla he refused to let go regardless of the time it took. There were moments when he almost gave up, almost let the land revert to its former state. Thoughts of his promise to Ayla as well as his belief in the Mother would not allow it. Even now he could feel the danger, it pulsed from the ground; he understood why he was here now, and what he had to do.
His eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled to see what he had accomplished, and how close he was to his goal. His race was long-lived and he had not changed in his time on Allure–at least on the outside. He was tall and muscular of build. His hair a golden red that picked up the sun, and his wings, sweeping the ground were the bluish white of his family heritage. His eyes were brown with the iris rimmed in green proclaiming his magic, that of the earth itself.
Even after sixteen years, he had not stopped looking for his child and his heart still hurt from losing Ayla. He often felt like she was with him in spirit as he surveyed his surroundings.
There was such beauty in renewal; he only wished Ayla could have shared this moment in person with him. The day was beautiful, and if one went no further than this little valley, the land was fertile and green. His experiment was a success although he was not sure if he was running out of time, or if there would be enough people to help with the scope of the job he had just completed. While not one-hundred percent finished, he could tell by the health of the seedling, the grain would survive. Results like these were what he and Ayla had hoped for so many years before.
As he thought about Ayla again, he wandered over to the marker where he placed her body. Oh, Ayla, he thought, what happened to our child? It was a troubling question. If the infant had died, then what had become of the body? Although he knew there were several answers, he wanted to believe that somehow, the youngster lived and prospered.
He felt an odd feeling as he watched the breeze setting the grain blowing, a kind of tingling at his back, a prickling at his neck, making the hair stand on end, like being watched. He examined the area again and all he saw were the few old trees that still lingered and the rocks leading into the valley. It was odd, he thought, he was constantly on the lookout, yet he would get that feeling. Was someone watching him? He could see the entire valley, and whenever he did investigate there was never a sign of anyone having been there. He shook it off again, but was not as comfortable as he had been earlier.
When he left the meadow, as he did once a week to check on the status of the gate, he was always surprised at how beautiful the little valley had become, compared to the rest of the planet. It was like an oasis in the wasteland. It was cooler than the rest of the planet and the air was cleaner.
He continued to hope the restriction on the gate would lift; he was tired and lonely and longed to get one more look at his home. He wanted to visit with his sister Gia, and he really wanted to see his Dad, and ask his forgiveness.
Geffen wanted to introduce his father to his memory of Ayla and assure him of how much he would have loved her. He had not meant to let his father down, but once he began to know Ayla and understand her, he realized he had found a woman, one who was one of a kind, and the love he felt was genuine. He had no choice; there could have been no turning back. However, he had failed her, misunderstanding the autonomy they had felt, feeling so free, both of them from oppression from their families. It had been so exciting and wondrous, living and loving, and when they had started a new life, a child, they were so ecstatic.
Fate had set their direction; the small meadow would have been their challenge. The circumstances dictated he sustain that challenge, though he missed her. He often found himself wondering if he was a little mad, he often felt as though Ayla was there with him. He could feel her warmth and hear her laughter on the breeze. Shaking his head at his musing, he shrugged it off. Loneliness did strange things to one’s mind.
As he approached the gate he observed as usual it was opaque, there was no swirl to the darkness denoting the opening. He was not sure anymore what he expected, but knew he would never give up. There would be a way–there must be a way–the time would come and he would be ready, he served his sentence, and the guilt would be with him endlessly.
He and Ayla could have gone to Aldur and been safe from both families, yet Ayla loved her land and her home. She wanted to help him to preserve it, to make it strong again.
Although her flight from her family made her fearful, she left them to get away and seek help; help they were not willing to ask for. She also wanted her father to see her as a person, not as a breeder. If he could see what she could accomplish he would treat her differently. With Geffen at her side, she felt they had a chance and enough time to make a difference.
Her father was old and soon her brother would take the leadership of Allure, she thought she could reason with him, rationalize her feelings and fears, and assist him to rule the world more wisely. While he too was a berserker, his main sense of self was more gentle, derived from his own mother, more like her then the father who had been so feared.
However, that was in the past …soon …very soon, someone would have to come. This planet would destroy the other two if left unchecked and the leaders would have to purge it entirely or deal with the issue at hand. He had come a long way to putting them on the path necessary, but was it enough? Only time would tell.
He turned and headed back to his home, his place on this world, but as he reached the narrow path he usually took, he saw a swirl of dust. As he continued to watch, now from concealment, he saw him, the man now in charge of this world. Here was the little brother that Ayla spoke so fondly of, her young Dayol. He too stopped at the gate, getting off his steed and walking around the gate, tapping it to see if it was open, but even as Geffen watched, he slammed his fist into the gate, cursing loudly. Geffen turned to leave, shaking his head; it seemed as if to some, anger was still the way. He had so much hope for them and he knew Ayla would be disappointed.
Suddenly the tingle began again, sharply looking behind him; he was disturbed when he could see nothing. He did not usually startle so easily, but lately it was almost as if he was being shadowed, although he was unable to discern the cause. Even his magic did not help him, he felt blocked. He knew he needed to shake it off. Discovery of his location would be a problem, but he would know. Such an uncomfortable feeling had no place in his life so he shook it off again and headed back to his valley.
It would be time–soon enough–for the gate to open, he could feel it. He knew in his soul that something was happening. He knew he would be ready, but would he have time to have his goal completed? He could only do his best.
Thinking of Ayla, he decided it was time to visit her grave again. He knew it was impractical but he had been on his own for so long he took solace from visiting and speaking with her. He sometimes imagined that she chatted back and he was content. He knew at those times he was unrealistic, but it took away a bit of the loneliness he often experienced.
As he rounded the hill to his meadow, he took a deep and grateful breath, he had begun something here and it was worthy. He only hoped it would be enough.
Feeling uncomfortable again, he shook it off; he was letting himself be alarmed because he could feel things beginning to happen. His earth magic was pulsing, ebbing and flowing, prompting a cautious concern, foretelling of things to come. While the magic communicated the change to him, he was not sure what it conveyed. Once again, the land trembled. Time was running out. How much time did they have?
Chapter 3
Eldie Sato sat numbly in the main room of their lodge. Jewel was not doing well; she had a cough, one she had contracted during the last cold spell accompanying the snow. The fire snapped a cheery melody with the crackling of the wood keeping time to the snow softly drifting outside his window.
As tears ran down the creases of his face, his thoughts blurred back to his youth, to a kinder and gentler time when he had first seen Jewel. She was so beautiful, with long flowing blond hair and cornflower blue eyes. She was the only girl in her family and her brothers were always trying to upset her. She held her own so well it was often hilarious; they did not dare to retaliate when she pushed them in the mud, or played practical jokes on them.
She was her father’s favorite. He could still recall that moment when he watched as she did the laundry at the washing place. He did not realize she knew he was there, he was shy around girls, and was especially nervous in her presence. As he gazed at her, she looked up and met his eye; she held eye contact, mesmerizing him, holding him immobile.
“Eldie, what are you doing over there. If you are going to be hanging around, I could use some help”, she ordered as he found himself the center of her attention.
Looking around for an escape, he saw he was trapped, he had nowhere to go, and could not see a way to extract himself from the situation.
He could feel the blush that began at his throat and moved up his face, until it receded into his hair. Mortified at being caught watching, she put him at his ease immediately. She had always been comfortable around people; she brought something out in him he was not aware he was missing. His felt his heart surge with feeling every time he saw her. She took pains to search him out as love began to grow.
That love had never diminished, and yet here he was, holding her hand as she moaned in fever. Her skin had thinned to parchment in the time of her illness, taking on a satiny yellow sheen. Her beautiful eyes were no longer clear and bright, but fevered and glassy from pain.
He felt emptiness, as she smiled at him, and while he was eager to see her smiles, he worried she was trying to make him feel better. It was just like her, always the one to make it better. The heat of the crackling fire and the long nights sitting with Jewel caught up with him as he finally lost his fight with sleep. Even in sleep, he could not let go, with Jewel’s hand caught in his own, holding tight as if without that anchor she would leave him forever.
His dreams were as fevered as the brow of his precious Jewel. In his sleep, he suffered with her, feeling her exhaustion and pain. Tired …so tired …ready to let go. He could feel it with a sinking heart and deep well of sadness. His sleep remained troubled.
The cold was what woke him, not just that of the dwindling fire, but the coldness of the hand he held. He did not want to believe she was gone, and yet he knew. Sobbing his anguish and hurt, he left the cottage, uncaring that he would be unprepared for the cold and blustery weather he was battling. The snow was falling with the wind whipping it into frenzy, creating a blizzard of epic proportions. He did not care, he was frantic in his pain, Jewel was his life and he could not live without her. He had no thoughts, only pain, it drove him in a passion to forget, and to heal.
Chapter 4
“Sierra, Sierra. Where did you disappear to," Yelled Eldie? "Foolish girl," he muttered to himself as he slowly hobbled to the sitting stone. Knowing that Sierra would soon make her way back, he was content to wait. Poor little thing, she is so deformed and while the other children point at her and relentlessly insult her, she has no concern. She takes it all in stride, just a happy and intelligent child, he thought.
Finding her all those years ago during his strange pilgrimage, if that horrible night when he lost Jewel could be called that, was such a shock. He felt guidance–a mystical pull–toward the hillside he could not ignore. Imagine his surprise when he found the baby, still attached to the woman by an umbilical cord, blood still fresh with the smell of copper in the air. Nothing could save the woman, it was too late for her, he knew there were animals lurking, enticed by the smell. He could still hear the growling in his mind, they had been fighting over something outside the cave. The laws of nature differed; hunger was a savage and brutal, guiding the scavengers to where their senses led them.
He knew there had been something odd about the scene, something he had seen but could not put his finger on. He thought it was important but after all these years, it should have pushed through his thoughts had it been necessary. Oh well, he would let it rest, if it were important it would come to him, although it had eluded him for many years now. He knew somehow that it was important, but it would not surface on his consciousness, something out of place or that should not have been there. It made him impatient to continue thinking about; the thought just was not there.
Tied to the ground, the woman had no dignity in her partially clothed state. Cuts and scrapes marked her entire body, but it was the slice from a blade across her throat, which portrayed the final indignity. It was not so deep it created spurting blood, it would not kill her instantly, but with her struggles during childbirth, the crying and tugging would have caused the blood to pump harder causing more to spill and keep the wound from healing. She had died, drowning in her own blood; he only hoped that she had not been conscious. He knew in his mind though, she would have been, the pain of childbirth would have left her struggling and weak, unable to help herself or the child. He supposed he was lucky to have come across the scene so soon, from the sound of it; the smell of blood and the cries of the woman drew the wolves in, a fitting meal for the dangerous animals that still prowled this world.
* * *
Sierra poked and prodded the stone, she had seen a bug crawl beneath it and she wanted to see why. The ground under the stone was damp. It created a divot in the soil with none of the grass from the field growing beneath it. In the indentation not only the beetle she was chasing but also many other wriggling creatures were there, hidden away from the sun and predators.
She dug at the soil with the little stick she picked up, watching the bugs scurry and move, curious to see how each moved in unison with another, as though they were in communication. She wondered if they used memories, some kind of knowledge that was unique to them. She was fascinated as she squatted by the rock watching them scurry from place to place.
She was always curious and wanted to understand how even the smallest of things could work together without any communication, Was it from experience or could they could just read one another telepathically? How could they move in such a detailed rhythm without communication?
Anyone coming toward her would see a child, small for her age, with brilliant red gold hair that flashed like fire in the sunlight. They would see her squatted over the rock with her bottom almost touching the ground, stirring at the ground with a small twig picked up in the meadow for just that purpose. If they approached her, they would pity her for the obvious deformity that peaked from her back, lumpy ridges that were not normal.
If she should happen to glance up at them, they would see her large almond shaped eyes, shining a light golden brown, the irises circled by a deep emerald. The eyes were so large on her face it gave her a strangely sad appearance. The small dainty ears and the high cheekbones covered with small freckles gave her an innocent expression. Lurking behind those eyes was humor and inquisitiveness, intelligence not found in the other children of Aldur. She was such a precious and exquisite child, yet––so sad to see such deformity. Most locals were used to this and no one thought of it much anymore. She was just poor Sierra to them, and someone for the children to bully.
As Sierra lost interest in bugs, she could hear the laughter of other children at the waterhole behind the trees. She knew she would not be welcome, but the sun was starting to warm the air and all her chasing of bugs and flies had made her sweaty. As she dashed toward the trees, she pulled up short, just at the edge of the area.
She did not want to cause any jeering, she just wanted to find a quiet place in the lake where she could quickly rinse herself and get cool.
As she reached out to the nearest tree and moved the branch, trying hard to create no sound, she instantly heard a shrill scream. Her heart started thrumming, and her breath caught in her throat, grasping the branch and pulling it aside, leaning in to get a look, she was horrified to see a group of tall and unearthly men with pale skin and black hair, in the pool. As she watched, the strangers completed putting collars on the children, each connected by a chain.
As Thomas, one of the boys moved from his hiding place and tried to run, he was plunged into the water and held under, only to be let go as his body slowly, buoyantly rose to the top. Struggling to stifle herself, trying to catch the building scream, the sound catching in her throat causing nausea to rise from the pit of her stomach, she froze.
Not sure what to do, she was afraid to move and make a sound. She slowly moved close …as close to the tree behind her as possible. Hoping to hide, she closed her eyes and wished herself invisible. Still backing, into the tree, at any time she knew she would make contact and feel the safety of the wood at her back, she inhaled as her body sank into the tree, changing shade and becoming part of the tree. Her gasp, shocking in the sudden silence alerted the hunters and they swarmed the area around the tree almost like the small bugs she had been watching earlier. Concealed by the tree, she prayed it would be enough. She was afraid but knew she would have to think about it later. It made no sense, and she would pick it apart with her usual curiosity, if she could only make it through the day.
They scanned the area for over an hour trying to make sure there were no witnesses. As she watched from the depth of the tree, eyes wide with fright, her mind clambering, and her breath shuttering, she could feel the bark of the tree as though it is a part of her skin. The knots of the wood become her eyes and she had morphed into a living breathing entity of the tree. The sighing of the wind through the leaves soothed her and the murmuring of the tree seemed to release her fear, gentling her mind.
After a time, when the creatures had left she could hear Eldie calling her. She was so relaxed and tranquil, more comfortable in the skin of the tree than she had ever been in her own. Murmuring an apology, she stepped forward away from the tree and found herself free … free … of the tree, longing for, wishing and missing the comfort.
Unsure what she felt, she ran to find Eldie and let him know of the abduction. Not realizing she had been so close, and should have been one of those kidnapped, he did not question her version of the capture.
As Eldie went to the village to report the abduction, he felt strangely weary. Many of his people had now lost their children to either death or slavery. On taking head count, five little girls the same age as Sierra were missing, and one little boy killed. Anger and frustration set in among the wailing and crying of the families of those lost. They had never been at odds with the other worlds and had done nothing to provoke this kind of action. The Aldur were a peaceful people, never at having problems with either of the others, so who were the invaders and why had they come?
"Eldie, what did they want? I was scared and they hurt Thomas." Crying helplessly, she moved to the corner and sat. "I was afraid and I couldn’t do anything. The tree had me and they could not find me. I wanted to be brave Eldie, but I was too scared. Why did that happen, Eldie? Why did they want to hurt anyone? What if they come back and get me? "
"Shhhh, calm down Sierra, there was nothing you could do. I’m not sure what happened with the tree, but I am thankful because otherwise I would be with the other parents missing their little ones. I don’t know what I would do if something happened to you." He lowered himself slowly to the floor next to Sierra and pulled her into his arms.
"Shhhh," he whispered again as he began to rock her. He hoped that she would be able to settle, the raid was brutal and she had witnessed the death of a child. He was concerned for her and hoped she would be able to put it behind her.
Never plagued by nightmares, there was always a first. She seemed so fragile, although he knew her appearance was what created such an illusion. She was anything but fragile, remarkably agile and strong, he usually had no fears for her. This was different.
He was worried about the episode, and concerned their village attacked. He worried that Sierra was the reason for the search and kidnapping. She was not of Aldur, or at least full blooded, but he could see she did have some characteristics of the planet. He began to wonder what else she was, with those strange growths on her shoulders. Was it possible she was part Eldwitch? That would also explain the encounter with the tree. Their magic was nature based, possibly something like that would fit with nature. The growths could be the beginning of wings. But how? Her mother had not been Eldwitch, nor was she full-blooded Allure. He wondered if she was one of the half-breeds, he had heard about. If she were Eldwitch, he thought as he rocked her tears away and brushed her hair from her face, gently moving a hair caught in the trail of her tears, then where was her father. Surely if he had known of the birth and the circumstances surrounding it, he would have been there to try to save both mother and daughter.
He loved Sierra and it was more than possible her growths were a mutation from her birth, mutations were more common on the world of Allure, and while he was still not sure where he was when he found her, he had his suspicions. It had been dark and even in his madness he could feel a difference in the air, different from Aldur. It was dry even with the snow, a parched and uncomfortable feeling, but without knowing for sure, he could only guess.
Something was going on, some story of which he was unaware. He knew he needed more information. He loved Sierra and to save her from whomever it was hunting girls her age; he needed information, plenty of it. Was it possible someone was looking for her? It seemed unlikely but so did the kidnapping that happened earlier. He would have to find information on Allure; he needed to understand more than he did now.
* * *
Eldie grew more agitated as he read the bits and parts of information available. Sierra was growing more each day, and she was curious about everything. She had an affinity for nature and was constantly tending plants and flowers, though there were those in charge of that job. Being skilled with land and water, they took care of it as was mandated at the beginning. Somehow, inherently, Sierra knew about plants, the way they grew, what they needed for nourishment, how to tend them when they struggled to grow. She could tell when soil was overused and needed to rest, or if it needed nourishment. These were all things that took years of study for the Stewards. It was their job to oversee the soil and air, as well as the water, making sure the planet would continue to be stable, and self-sufficient.
Rumors of problems on the world of Allure, once the most attractive of the three planets, were rampant. Word was, it was now barely able to sustain itself and if something did not change soon, the planet would die. The last twenty years had only continued its erosion, and the rumbling and shaking of the ground only grew more pronounced. This raised serious concern because of the proximity of the planets and gravitational pull, as well as the connection of the world gate between worlds. These would destroy the other two worlds should Allure finally self-destruct.
Current closing of the world gate was because of raiding and other recent problems. He wondered if that had been where the raiders had been from. Could they have been responsible for the raids that had continued for some years? Eldie thought when he disappeared all those years ago, the night he first found Sierra, he might have wandered through the gate into the world of Allure; he was never sure, the blizzard was fierce and he could barely see the ground in front of him. He just knew he was fortunate to make it back to safety and his home, without freezing either himself or the child he carried with him.
One day, if they could stabilize the planet he would like to go, he would like to see if there was anything familiar, not that it would make a difference. It would be too dangerous and could bring attention to him and his ward, Sierra, unwanted and unnecessary attention.
"Why so much difficulty finding books on other races in our library? We are an intelligent people, and we have a connection with both planets from ancient times. Why the black out," He griped in his irritation to Jillia, the librarian.
"We should have a history of the ancient world at least, is that something that you can find for me?" he scolded the poor woman.
Although he felt bad for taking his frustration out on her, what good was a library if you could not rely on it to supply information? He heard the woman coming from the lower part of the room and she was moving slowly. Looking down to see what she was carrying, he saw what appeared to be a huge well-worn and old book.
She carefully set it down in front of him and said, “Eldie, this is the only copy of this book I have ever seen on our world. It is old and fragile. If you would please be careful, it is all we have left of the ancient world histories.”
Relieved, he agreed to be extremely careful and he let her know if she would keep it upstairs and handy for him he would be in several days a week to look through it.
She smiled, and her eyes began to twinkle, "Ok Eldie, I’m happy I found what you wanted. You’ve been grouchy and if this cheers you up, it’ll have been worth it.” Leaving him to his studies, she left him alone to his research.
As Eldie slowly began to read, he was entranced with the information. As a child, he was a fervent reader, and while some information was still available about the beginning of the Tri-World Empire, he had never seen such detail.
This book not only documented the world of Eldwitch and how it functioned, it recorded information about the fall and the creation of the individual planets. It boasted of the magic, and noted the Eldwitch race itself, their reported beauty and ability to take to the skies. It also described their love and worship of the Mother; the environmental order of the land and how nature kept the world replenished and able renew itself.
He assumed much of their stewardship of Aldur had to do with all the information gleaned from the ancient Eldwitch. Reading a passage denoting renewal of resources, he was proud of his own people because they were serious about conservation. He knew their care of his world was what led to the continued raids he believed operated by the Allure.
Now, there was a problem. They did not take the learning to heart and make sure their world had Stewards, caregivers of the land and all other facets of the natural resources for the planet. Irresponsible and not following a simple plan, they had, in their greed and avarice stripped the planet of its life-giving resources. It had been strip-mined, and clear-cut, with litter and garbage everywhere fouling the water and the land.
The smoke of the cities was defiling the air and in their pride, they had decided their race was better, more intelligent, stronger and better looking. They refused to breed with others outside the planet; they felt they would be tainting their blood.
They married and bred in their own world, and after time the bloodline became too close, too mingled. This did not deter them and they continued inbreeding, creating strange mutations, but none as strange as the anger, which became common from too many years breeding in their own population. Limiting the gene pool brought to light many deleterious mutations and traits, shaping and defining an excessive anger.
This then moved one-step further and escalated into berserking. The berserking was so bad that when the anger came, there was no control, no understanding or care. It did not matter when the darkness was on them. Entire families were shattered during these episodes. Unable to control the problem, but intending to reduce the aftermath of anguish and guilt, often resulting in suicide, a mind rub was developed. This rub erased memories after a particularity bad situation were the berserker unintentionally killed his family or friends. This led to problems of abuse; the forgetfulness was something many of them wanted. The berserking was common, so common it was accepted as a part of who they were as a society.
The drug became a rampant problem in their civilization, already with so many strikes against them. Although the mind rub was meant to help reduce further incidents it encouraged them, it was easier to kill when a drug made it all OK. They had to find a solution to the dilemma; the drug only shrouded the aftermath. It created one more problem, in a world already overburdened. Abuse was common, and many users went underground, not wanting stop.
It was no wonder the raids had begun. They were not only stealing food but also women from Aldur, worried now for the first time about bloodlines and the mutations that came because of inbreeding. They were now using these captured women to dilute these bloodlines and reduce the genetic anomaly that created the anger of berserking.
Initially the plan did not work well and the women and children usually died in childbirth. Using unwilling women, and those who feared for their lives, made gestation to full term next to impossible. It took love and care to produce children although birth and procreation were natural, still many of those who made it to birth, died during delivery or just after. The mutations continued, often the genes were incompatible, but many times because of the dilution process itself.
He had not planned for the material contained in the book; it was more detailed than anticipated. Time moved quickly as he got deeper into the history of Allure itself. He looked up and noted it was time to complete his reading for the day. He carefully marked his page and slo