19. Leaving The Caravan

> “When choosing an ally it’s wise to pick the one with the fewest enemies.” - The Book of Psiology

The three rose when it was not yet light, planning to get a head-start on the caravan and reach the Market ahead of the main group.

But there was one thing they had to do before they could leave. Of all the things Athena had done in her long life, this morning she faced the prospect of something she looked forward to less than anything she had contemplated for many millennia. She would have to try to eat something.

“It’s best to start on something small and dry,” Sekardi told her, “We’ve had these biscuits with us since we last left the Market, a couple of years ago.”

Athena took what looked like a small piece of bark but that Sekardi insisted was edible. She had seen food before, of course, but had never really paid attention to it. Food was something mortals needed, so why would she pay attention to it, except when her followers fell short of providing for themselves?

Sekardi took a biscuit of her own, put it to her mouth and broke the corner off with her teeth. Athena watched her chew for what seemed like an age and then swallow.

“You have to give it a good chew the first time, to get your body used to the idea of taking something in, and to soften it up.” She looked down at the rest of the biscuit. “I’d forgotten how weird an experience it is, though.”

Athena mimicked Sekardi’s action, putting the biscuit to her mouth and biting her teeth down on it. It broke, and then half fell to the floor. Sekardi picked it up and dusted it off.

“It’ll be fine. There are no bacteria that can live in the Wasteland..”

The biscuit felt sharp inside Athena’s mouth. She tried to chew, moving her jaw up and down and a little side to side, and the biscuit broke into pieces between her teeth. It felt alien to have something in her mouth, poking at her gums, sticking between her teeth, and as the biscuit softened and mixed with saliva she fought the urge to spit it out. How could mortals do this every day, and multiple times too? They even seemed to look forward to it.

“How long do I have to do this for?” she asked, barely forming the words as she struggled to keep the soggy biscuit mash within her mouth. Sekardi had more than a hint of a smile on her lips as she watched Athena struggle with the simple act of chewing, something all mortals took for granted.

“That’s probably enough. But now the hard part: you have to swallow. You need to get the biscuit mash to the back of your mouth and hopefully a reflex will kick in.”

Athena did as she was instructed, tilting her head up to try to slide the biscuit back. Her tongue fought against her will, holding the mash against the roof of her mouth. She tried to push it further back and felt her throat contract. Sekardi stood to one side and Athena wondered what was about to happen. She almost had it, the biscuit passing the back of her throat. A soggy crumb slid down, and then another reflex kicked in. With a cough a mass of sticky brown shot from her mouth to splatter the brown stones. Now it was apparent why Sekardi had stepped aside.

“Yeah. We all do that the first time,” Sekardi said, “But I think you got some of it down. Now you just have to try it again another few times. One biscuit will last a few days, if you can eat most of it.”

Athena groaned at the prospect of doing it again, but she knew that she needed to eat to do something about the lack of focus she had felt for days. It was the draw on her concentration that the constant nagging hunger, however mild, that clawed at her attention more than any need for energy.

By the end of the biscuit she felt as if she was getting the hang of it. No biscuit came back up, but the sensation of sticky mess between her teeth and coating the inside of her mouth was revolting.

“Here,” Sekardi said, handing her a bottle, “We need a little water too.”

“What is this torture,” Athena said, putting the bottle to her mouth and pouring slowly. As much washed over her face as into her but this time the swallow reflex was impossible to ignore, as was the coughing that followed. She drew in a deep, wheezing breath, her throat rasping as water frothed in her windpipe.

“Don’t tell me I need air too,” she said.

“I’d forgotten that bit, but yes: we have to breathe to survive. But don’t worry, we don’t need much of that either. You might feel like you’re about to suffocate but one breath will last a day. Unfortunately, our reflexes haven’t worked that out so we react just as badly to the sensation of drowning as any mortal.”

Mortal. Athena hated the word now. She had always used it in an offhand way to describe everyone else, everyone that was neither Aeseri nor Engella. And now she was one of them. Mortal.

“Anything else that might kill me that I need to know about?” she asked Sekardi wryly.

“Probably. But nothing pressing comes to mind.”

Sekardi gave Athena a bag and they gathered the small amount of supplies they would need from the caravan. Aguel handed them a small bag of diamonds to use for trade, saying they would be lighter to carry than more food and water and were as close to currency as anybody had.

“Go well, Greysky, and you Ostri,” he said, “And you, Sekardi, I hope to see you return to the caravan one day.”

Athena couldn’t be sure but Aguel appeared genuinely sad at parting from his former master. Sekardi stood upright but there was a glint of a tear in the corner of her eye.

“I will return, Aguel,” she said, “You can be sure of that.”

“And I’ll make sure of it,” Athena added, keen to acknowledge the bond and show appreciation for what Aguel was doing for them.

“No harm will come of them while they’re with me,” Ostri said, looking more formidable in armour with a broadsword in a scabbard on his back, his helmet slung from his waist on one side and an axe on the other.

The rest of the caravan watched as the farewell took place. Aguel had told them that the three were to depart on a special expedition, but had given no information as to what it might be. They were used to following his instructions without question and knew better than to ask.

Sekardi went and spoke to a few of the Aeseri and Engella, including Vegdar, who Athena waved to. He was the only other in the caravan who knew her identity and would not be surprised at her departure. She had considered whether he would be useful to take with them, but his role of back-up tracker to Sekardi made him more important to Aguel for now.

Finally, with bags over their shoulders they left the caravan behind them, still disassembling tents and packing up extinguished lanterns for the day’s trek.

“We’ll need to move fast to stay ahead of them,” Sekardi said, “But Aguel will slow them down a little. We should get to the Market a day or more ahead of them.”

They had a five day journey ahead of them, but Sekardi had warned Athena that she had one more thing to contend with that she had never had to think about before: physical fatigue. She would not tire easily, but she would not be used to it and she would need to push through the feeling. Athena assured her travelling companions that she was ready for it, and she believed it, but the more mortal she became the less she liked it.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

Despite her confidence, her legs began to feel tired after just a few hours and she found herself scuffing rocks as her feet dragged on the floor. Ostri exchanged a glance with Sekardi but neither said anything; Athena’s pride demanded that they remain silent unless she broached the subject herself.

The day felt endless. Feet dragging over one rock to another, the landscape featureless and unchanging, the sky was an even tone of grey with only the faintest hint of brown near the horizon. If Athena had been told that they had been walking for a week rather than just a few hours she would not have been surprised.

Remaining silent about fatigue ceased to be an option when she stumbled and fell, the bag tumbling from her shoulder. Sekardi held out a hand to help her to her feet and Athena reluctantly accepted.

“Let us sit for a minute,” Sekardi suggested, “Just to flex a few different muscles.”

Physical bodies are so inefficient, Athena thought to herself as she squatted, and then rolled back to sit on the stony ground with her legs bent, stretching them in ways that walking couldn’t. Ostri remained standing, scanning the horizon, although the chances of him seeing something Sekardi hadn’t were close to nil.

“We D’varsha have strong legs,” he told them proudly, “Which is just as well as I must have taken twice as many paces as you have.”

Athena laughed, glad for something to break the monotony of the walk.

“I thought you D’varsha were touchy about your height.”

“We are. But I can still joke about it. Just so long as you don’t.”

Athena smiled, but she knew he meant it.

“Tell me,” she ventured, judging that a moment of levity might be a good time to gain some information, “What is it you’re looking for deep beneath your mountain?”

Ostri studied her, wondering how to answer. Athena looked around at the empty horizon.

“I think we’re past keeping secrets,” she said, “And I don’t think there’s anyone I could tell.”

Ostri looked at Sekardi.

“I can keep a secret as well as anybody. The past six months should have shown you that.”

“Very well. But if anyone asks, even another D’varsha, you know nothing.” They both nodded. He paused, apparently unsure, and then, looking around at the empty horizon, his mind was made up. “Aeserium. We believe there is an unlimited source, deep down.”

“But you haven’t found it yet?”

“Only veins. The portal, and the lenses you saw of which it is made, were most of what we have found.”

“But how did you manage to produce such thin sheets?” Athena asked, “I thought aeserium was indestructible.”

“The only thing that will make any impact on aeserium is another piece of aeserium. The lenses were formed by working pieces in circles over centuries.” Athena nodded. “We D’varsha are very patient.”

“With strong legs,” Sekardi added with a glint in her eye.

“A good combination,” Ostri agreed, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

“But another thing I don’t understand,” Athena said, “Is how you came to the astral plane? The portal was made from aeserium and you used it to send people to the mortal plane, but how did the first ones cross between the dimensions?”

“Let’s talk while we walk,” Sekardi suggested.

“Do you remember what happened to the planet Aeserus after the Ascension?” Ostri asked her.

“From what I was told, it disappeared from the mortal plane, and what we’re walking on now is what it transformed into in the astral plane.”

“Most of it disappeared, but there were pieces left, here and there. The best theory of the Elthenians and the Elementals is that it was made of aeserium in some pocket of the galaxy with its own physical rules. They believe the aeserium became unstable in the mortal universe and pulled it through to this plane. Its effect on the surrounding space was like an implosion.”

“But?”

“But not all of it disappeared. Fragments were fired out into space, fragments of aeserium, at first, but as soon as they left that area of space they transmuted into lumps of carbon.”

“So all aeserium disappeared from the mortal universe?”

“All the aeserium that we know of. But the Elthenians discovered something when they examined some of the fragments. They were entangled, across dimensions, entangled with aeserium on this plane. It wasn’t so much that the planet itself ascended, but large parts of it split, almost multiplying, with atoms here corresponding to atoms there.

“Of course, at that time we thought Aeserus had been destroyed. We had no idea of the astral plane, as it came to be known. It was only when the Aeseri returned and, excuse me, started to call themselves gods that we thought there must be some connection.

“It took centuries to find even small amounts, because the explosion was of such force that the carbon fragments were expelled at high speed, and they were not large. But they became highly prized, by D’varsha and Elthenians, and the Elementals even tried to gather some.

“We gathered enough to experiment, sending small objects through a rudimentary portal. Some were successful, some were not, and eventually we had built a portal large enough and ran tests successfully enough that a few brave D’varsha were sent through. They founded Kaz’um, and they started to mine. There were a few dozen at first, working in secret with no way to return until they found aeserium, and a way to shape it into the lenses you saw, so they could construct the portal.”

“They came here with no idea of what might face them? No idea if they could even survive? No way to return?”

“Yes. They were brave. We knew they would survive, but not in what manner.” He looked around at the barren land and the monotone sky. “Nor how tedious this world might be. But the day when the first D’varsha returned, having successfully completed the portal and journeyed back to the mortal realm, made it all worthwhile. For a time we thought we too might be gods.”

Athena suppressed a laugh. The D’varsha were far from being gods, she thought to herself.

“And the Elthenians have something similar, then?” she asked.

“No. They have something on the other side, but they have no aeserium here, and no portal.”

“You mean they can’t go back.”

“They come here for life, as far as they know, or until something changes.”

“I wonder why they do it at all,” Athena mused, looking at the horizon. There really was nothing here worth having, and she herself would do anything to escape the place.

“It will be twilight soon,” Sekardi said, “Another hour and we’ll have to prepare ourselves for a night against the Wichts.”

Ostri looked up at the sky and Athena’s gaze followed him. She shivered, remembering her encounter with one on her first night here.

“They will have no interest in me,” he said, “But two Aeseri together in the Wasteland? We will have to be alert, but I fear it will be a temptation impossible for them to resist.”

“What are the Wichts?” Athena asked her companions, “I saw one on the first night I was here.” She shuddered. “I don’t want to repeat it. It looked… like an empty shell.”

“That’s because they are,” Ostri explained, “They are a failed attempt at Ascension. Long ago, when the Aeseri returned, the Wichts were a race of humanoids that sought to become gods. They thought they had found a way, but it was a false hope. Their bodies ascended, but not their souls, and what you see here is nothing but an empty shell.”

“And their souls?”

“Some say they still exist on the mortal plane, but there are so many tales of ghosts and hauntings from every race that separating myth from reality is impossible. But I believe it may be true, and it may be the reason they seek out Aeseri. They are drawn to your power in the belief that it will reunite body and soul.”

“Vegdar told me something similar. That they were looking for souls, to absorb their energy.”

“It doesn’t work, of course. They absorb energy, which causes harm to their victims, but it’s never enough. I’ve seen Aeseri that have been touched and they almost have the look of a Wicht about them: vacant, empty, barely there. I think they recover, but it can take centuries, depending on the drain.”

“So how do we avoid them?”

Sekardi looked around. The sky was darkening already.

“We split up. They’ll be attracted to us if we stay close together, but if we put distance between us then they won’t be able to find us. Not precisely. They’re completely blind, may not even feel much, but they can hear and they can sense Aeseri energy.”

“And I shall stay somewhere in the middle in case one of them does get too close,” Ostri said, tapping his sword, “They have no interest in D’varsha, for some reason, but I admit I am interested to see if my axe can cause damage.”

“It’s not a risk worth taking to find out it can’t,” Athena told him.

“Agreed,” Ostri said, “Reluctantly.”

Sekardi pointed at a rock some distance away.

“You sleep over by that rock,” she said, and then pointed at another in the opposite direction, “And I’ll sleep by that one.”

“There must be a better way to spend the night than this,” Athena muttered, walking over to a rock that stood just proud of the flat landscape.

“There is,” Sekardi called back, “It’s called the caravan. They’re not brave creatures and large groups keep them away.”

Athena wondered again why Sekardi had been so keen to leave that relative safety, but she was grateful that she had.

She lay down beside the rock and attempted to sleep as best she could. It wasn’t easy, because for the first time in her life her legs ached.