I think you did an excellent job with it, so kudos!
Chosen by the Dragon God
- Thread starter Chandagnac
- Start date
- Original
After the Storm (Epilogue)
Chandagnac
Broken Robot
- Location
- Nowhere
After the Storm
The Aspiti Empire was one of the mightiest civilisations of the Third Age, which had terrorized its neighbours' shores for hundreds of years. When it finally fell, there were many who heaved a sigh of relief. Having spent the last of their strength and wealth in a ruinous war against a coalition of other nations who all had good reason to hate them, the Aspitis made a last-ditch attempt to defend their shores from invasion: to the plains outside their capital city, they sent their few remaining soldiers, supported by mercenaries and the monstrous creations of an evil life mage. There, they were defeated by a small army of elite soldiers led by Gelfavar Wolfshadow, Gareth and Yslena Allardyne, and the Chosen of various gods. That night, after the invaders had landed the remainder of their troops, made sure they were well-organized, ready for battle and settled down to rest, the great city of Aspitolm was torn apart by infighting. All of the royal family and many of the nobility were put to the sword, while others tried to flee or took the opportunity to settle old scores. The next day, the city threw open its gates and surrendered.At least, that's what you imagine the history books will say. Perhaps you'll write one yourself. You can't imagine that any of the others will describe your mother's grimace when someone presented her with the severed head of the former king of Aspitolm. Or the expressions of mingled relief, bewilderment and consternation worn by many of the Coalition's soldiers when they entered the city without having to fight, only to see the damage from the recent riots that had left it partially ruined and littered with corpses. Or the stench that is so much worse even than Truinon's slums: human ordure mixed with the iron tang of blood, vinegary sweat; rotting flesh, rancid and cloying; greasy smoke and soft-falling ash; fearful hope, despair and desperation hanging in the air, all-pervasive. Everything you had expected and worse.
The leaders of the Coalition, including your parents, lose no time in restoring order and establishing an interim government. You wonder how long it will last. Your parents are keen for the new nation of Tolmar to have some kind of democratic rule, but the population largely consists of former slaves and poor people who were treated little better than slaves but were nevertheless considered to be free; the two groups are fearful and suspicious of each other, and no one seems able to unite them. Also, many of them are poorly educated and a significant minority speak only a few words of Aspiti or the Trader tongue and no other language that the majority can understand. More than once, you've heard people in authority express the opinion that Tolmar or Aspitolm (or whatever they call it) 'isn't ready for democracy'.
King Marc of Rivayne proposed that his cousin, your mother, Yslena Allardyne should be the new queen of Tolmar, which the other nations that are part of the Coalition seemed willing to accept in exchange for a few minor concessions. However, your mother refused. Apparently, neither she nor your father are willing to rule over anything larger than a small town and its surroundings. The fact that they once declared themselves to be 'King and Queen of Ismar and Windskil' was meant as a joke; it didn't really mean anything.
You suspect that the real reason why many of the Coalition's most powerful backers – in terms of wealth, manpower and political influence, at least – seem determined that the 'interim government' should last for as long as possible is that they all have a vested interest in making sure that Aspitolm never becomes the trading hub that it once was. With its central position in the Sea of Squalls, halfway between the west coasts of Ardenor and Anakwaan, it was the ideal place for the merchants of many different nations to meet and sell their wares. However, since the war cut off most of the usual trade routes, many of those merchants have gone to Epiny, Truinon or Bakhasis instead, which the rulers of those cities are very happy with and want to continue. Also, the reason why the Aspiti Empire was able to terrorize its neighbours for so long was because of the extraordinary wealth it garnered through trade, which is presumably why you've heard mutterings suggesting that it might be a 'good' thing if Aspitolm never recovered.
You feel sorry for the native Tolmari people, who were persecuted and enslaved by the Aspitis for generations until now there are only a few hundred of them left in existence – and even now it seems like they are despised by many of the other inhabitants of their island. Their language is unrelated to any other that is still spoken by anyone anywhere, they worship a goddess that many consider to be strange and abhorrent – Mrana Tzapok Tsin-Tsin, the spider queen – and many of them live in the bleakest, most mountainous and most heavily-forested region of Tolmar, which has now been 'generously' given over to them as a 'reservation', despite the fact that they probably wouldn't have wanted to live there if it wasn't the only place where they weren't being hunted to extinction.
"Maybe Mishrak and Mrana could be friends," you muse. "I'm sure they could work out something together."
Watching from the sidelines, you pay careful attention to everything you see and hear, unsure of what you should do, if anything. Even if you're the Chosen of Mishrak, you're only fourteen years old – your birthday passed by recently and was a joyful celebration for your family, friends and many others who seemed glad of a reason to celebrate – so would anyone actually listen if you told them they should do things differently?
Your parents and Roylott Flawse are part of Tolmar's interim government, dutifully doing their best to make sure that it is ruled fairly, wisely and for the good of its people. On the plains where the final battle took place, they've erected a memorial for all those who died fighting the Aspitis and their auxiliaries. There, carved into the stones in tiny lettering, alongside many others, you see the names 'Hrolmar the Wolf' and 'Artaxas Quin'.
When they're not busy with matters of governance or paying their respects to the dead, your parents seem remarkably pleased with life, as if a heavy load has been lifted from them. They seem younger and more carefree than you've ever seen them before, still very much in love, kissing and canoodling like newlyweds. You don't know if you should feel embarrassed whenever you see them acting like hormonal teenagers – or should you be pleased for them?
With all that in mind, it doesn't come as a surprise when, on a fine sunny spring morning, your mother approaches you with an odd expression on her face – she seems both pleased and abashed – and says, "Elys… how would you like to have a little brother or sister?"
"Congratulations," you say, rolling your eyes at her.
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Damn, I feel bad for the Tolmari, this is very realistic, especially the "Not ready for democracy" angle and ruthless framework of proceedings. Still, the Spider goddess seems neat and the whole new sibling things and her reaction were very cute notes to end on!
Also very visceral stuff with the gutted city, kudos.
Also very visceral stuff with the gutted city, kudos.
Yeah, a sadly realistic outcome...
Flashkannon
Aqua Iconographer
- Location
- TM 91
Ough. Not quite Caesar weeping at the head of Pompey, but there's shades, there. Still, best that most of the heads of state are removed, here.
(queen of Aspitolm, you mean?)
Tinpot Princess 2: Princess Harder
Yeah! Realistic, but I think it's workable. Ignorance can be fixed, languages can be taught, and cities can be rebuilt. And... someone should probably hunt down the people that fled. In all fairness, not doing that is what got Aspitolm... well, exactly where it is.
"You means besides Catharne?"
Also, poor them. Having to compete in "sibling making" with Mishrak, who made a sibling that can fly and spit
Eternal_0bserver
(Unverified Bookworm)
- Location
- Earth, Northern Europe
Hmm, unless I'm confusing that with another story, the Aspiti worship their own twisted interpretation of the Sun God? This is actually a great time to correct that - history shows that such economic and political upheavals in the wake of military defeat are the most fertile ground for changing beliefs and creating new ones. If we could find missionaries willing to guide them back to the right path, it might even become a unifying force in a fractured society. In that case, the central figure of such a religious movement would become the new king or queen of Tolmar.
Chandagnac
Broken Robot
- Location
- Nowhere
Thank you.
Realistic that sexytimes resulted in pregnancy, or realistic that there's no 'happily ever after' for the people of Tolmar, or both?
Oops. Yeah, sorry... embarrassing mistake, there.
I'm sure Gareth and Yslena will enjoy playing the game even if they don't win.
They worship Zanaster, who has proclaimed himself the god of wealth, trade and progress, but is also the god of slavery and other unpleasant things. I agree that it would be a good idea to send missionaries to convert them to the worship of a less horrible god (or to spend countless hours debating philosophy with the Students of the Nine Mysteries).
Interesting idea. It's not going to happen within the lifespan of this quest, alas.
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Ah, geez, I knew that winning the big battle was the functional climax, and this is a very logical way for things to end... But it... Gives me a feeling to see this big bad country that was the big menace everyone was fighting against for the majority of the plot just die with a whimper, so to say.
Well, whimper for us, I suppose. For the people living in it, it's a bloody nightmare.
That's one bit of solace, heh.
Elys has been hanging out too much around Jana, it sounds like. XD
Old Soldiers Never Die (Epilogue)
Chandagnac
Broken Robot
- Location
- Nowhere
Old Soldiers Never Die
The war was over. Seven orcs sat together, in a spare room of Mishrak's palace, which had proved to be as good a meeting place as any. Red Ruin was with them. Despite their best efforts, they had failed to die in glorious combat."Agh. That's it," said the orc whose nickname was 'Slash', whose face was bisected by a deep, red-rimmed scar. With a morose sigh, he added, "No heroic death for a good cause. No legend. Just a slow, lingering death."
"Doomed to rot and wither, gradually falling apart, until at last our mutilated souls are wrenched from what's left of us," said the one they called 'Rattlepike'. He had a persistent tremor that caused his hands to shake even when he was sitting still.
"Why should we be different from anyone else?" asked Grunt, with a gust of bitter laughter. "Old age comes to everyone."
"They have a hope and chance of reincarnation," said Flay, who already had the look of a mutilated corpse about him. "Our souls are so damaged that when we die they're likely to fall to pieces. Maybe they'll go around the Wheel and be remade as the souls of small animals, or maybe they'll be crushed into dust. Either way, I'm not looking forward to it."
"I don't know. I'd quite like to be a tiny bird," said Lariat, a wistful expression on her thin face. "Fly free."
"Knowing my luck, I'll be reincarnated as a worm or a slug." Slash grimaced.
They tilted their heads and frowned as they heard approaching footsteps. Until this point, Red Ruin had been silent, not wanting to intrude into their conversation. Whereas they were the twisted creations of the Betruri Empire's torture technicians, who had sought to turn convicted criminals into super-soldiers, he had never really known what it was like to be human. Their lives had been extended for thousands of years, but they weren't immortal. Within a few years, they would all be gone. He was much older than any of them, but he would endure for eons yet. As a tiny baby, he had fallen into the hands of Keron of the Elder Gods, who had turned him into a living work of art: immortal and beautiful, superhumanly strong, fast and agile. While the orcs were bemoaning their fate, he said nothing and tried not to attract attention, just in case they started to resent him for his many advantages.
But when he heard the noise of footsteps, his expression brightened. If one were to listen closely, the footsteps were peculiarly regular, each one sounding exactly the same, and there was something artificial about them. Red Ruin seemed to take that as a sign.
"I know you've been worried about… uh, your future, so I mentioned it to a friend of mine. He wants to make you an offer. I hope you'll be willing to listen to him," he said.
"Might as well." Grunt nodded.
"Intriguing," said Lariat, with a raised eyebrow.
A burly figure entered the room. He was tall and bearded, clad in gleaming mail, with a vivid birthmark that looked like a bloody handprint on his face. "I am Wranolf, one of the Chosen of Strashan," he said. "In my master's halls, many of history's greatest warriors have gathered and taken refuge. There, they drink and feast and fight mock-battles every day, ageless and unwearied, waiting for the time when they will once again be called upon to fight the Demon Lords or the Ice Giants or some other terrible threat to the world. You may join them, if you wish."
"That's kind of you," said Grunt, in a gruff voice. "Thank you for offering. But none of us are able to eat or drink."
"It gives us the shits. Putrid, foul-smelling shits," Slash helpfully supplied.
"And how long would our souls linger on before collapsing into ruin?" Flay wanted to know. "A few years, maybe?"
"My master has imbued all of his Chosen with a mote of his divine power. He would do the same for you. You would leave behind your bodies and become spirit beings. Besides… my master's table has no true substance. The food and drink there is formed out of ideas and memories. There will be no 'putrid, foul-smelling' shits, have no fear."
"Leave our bodies behind? You mean we're going to die?" asked Lariat.
"Merely a change of state. In almost every way, you would remain as you are," Wranolf assured her.
"Except we'd be like ghosts. No bodies. No physical form," said Slash.
Wranolf shrugged his expansive shoulders. "You would be like I am now, able to manifest as I have." He paused, spread his arms wide, and continued, "Look upon me. I am a spirit being. Some call me a god. Do you think it is any particular hardship to live as I do? That is what I offer you."
"That's the best offer we're likely to get. Yeah, I'm taking it," said Grunt, with a twisted smile.
"We'll live forever, so the story goes," said Rattlepike, philosophically. "Isn't that what we've been hoping, praying, longing for… all this time?"
"Whining, more like." Slash snorted. "But yeah… I'd like to be able to taste something again. Even if it's just a dream."
The others all expressed their agreement, one by one. Even the most hesitant didn't want to be left behind. Finally, Grunt turned to Wranolf and said, "We're in. What do we have to do?"
"Come with me," the warrior god said, turning as if to lead them out of the room.
"Can I come too?" asked Red Ruin.
"Why would you want to leave your body behind?" asked Lariat, looking him up and down.
"I've been alone for many lifetimes. I think it's time to settle down with a few old friends," he replied. Then, with a careless shrug, he added, "Anyway, I'm sure Mishrak will take care of it."
"By the way…" Wranolf turned to Red Ruin, frowning. "Keron's champion, Everrarc Ninefingers, was slain in the battle outside Aspitolm. It escaped my notice at the time, but… do you know what happened to the Blood Sword?"
"I've no idea," the ancient elf admitted. "It hadn't occurred to me to think about it until now."
Wranolf uttered a barely audible curse. Then, he shook himself and said, "Never mind. I'm sure we'll hear about it again, when it becomes a problem."
Following his lead, they moved on, out of Mishrak's palace and into the spirit realm, to where Strashan had built his Hall of Heroes. There, they were welcomed with great celebration. As they had been promised, they became spirit beings, imbued with Strashan's divine power and invited to sit at his table, where there was drinking and feasting and mock-battles forevermore.
They left their physical bodies far behind. Several days passed before anyone discovered them.
Old soldiers never die... They go to Valhalla!
I'm going away for several days to spend time with family, so I'll be out of touch for the next few days. I'm sure you all have made similar arrangements. I hope to see you all when I get back. Merry Christmas to everyone who celebrates it.
I'm going away for several days to spend time with family, so I'll be out of touch for the next few days. I'm sure you all have made similar arrangements. I hope to see you all when I get back. Merry Christmas to everyone who celebrates it.
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I thought they had died, but I'm happy that they got a happy ending.
Flashkannon
Aqua Iconographer
- Location
- TM 91
Aw, that was sweet. It's funny to think that in the end, the quest for an end they could be proud of bought them more time than they could measure.
Awh, poor Red Ruin... I hope he finds Valhalla a good place. Glad for the orcs, though! Huzzah!
Chandagnac
Broken Robot
- Location
- Nowhere
I thought it seemed appropriate, especially since Strashan's Hall of Heroes was mentioned as a heaven for great warriors way back in A Hedge Maze Is You.
They're rough, cynical old soldiers, so I thought their reaction was very much in-character. They wouldn't have survived for as long as they have by being incautious.
I don't think there's any need to pity him, now that he's sharing in the orcs' heavenly afterlife.
Anyway, thank you all. I have... uh, three or four more epilogues in mind, maybe. I guess I'm not properly finishing this quest this year.
Fair point there, that does make a lot of sense. I may be conflating my familiarity with the tropes at play with their own too.
Excellent deep cut, kudos!
Things Fall Apart (Epilogue)
Chandagnac
Broken Robot
- Location
- Nowhere
This update is my gift to @MagewyrmMira , who asked for an epilogue detailing how Tavi and the other goblins have been getting on since Zora Alishanda's return.
*
Things Fall Apart
Tav Riorn was ancient and weary. Many times, he had wondered why his goddess had Chosen him. Surely it would have been better if the position had gone to someone younger and stronger, who would have relished the prestige, the opportunities and the responsibilities that came with it? Perhaps they would have known what to do now. As Zora Alishanda's Chosen, he could have gone anywhere – indeed, he had already been called upon to do so, multiple times – but he refused to leave his family behind for any longer than he had to.Things Fall Apart
He was sitting with the other elders of the Riorn tribe, in the ramshackle old house that was the closest thing Zora Alishanda had to a temple in Har, listening to the noise of shouted arguments, of which there were many.
The return of the goddess Zora Alishanda should have brought joy to everyone. She was a benevolent goddess who loved all of humanity, after all, even if goblins were special to her. However, many humans – especially cruel, tyrannical rulers such as King Maginn Voord – were terrified of what the goblins would do with any power and influence they gained from the return of their patroness. Would they rise up against those who had tormented them for so long? Would they seek revenge? Many goblin-haters seemed to assume that the answer to those questions would be 'yes'. And, all too often, because they were paranoid madmen, they had decided that the only way to prevent the goblin rebellion they saw as inevitable was with a pre-emptive strike.
That hadn't happened yet. A warning had been delivered to them in dreams: 'King Maginn is planning a pogrom. Do not be here when his plan comes to fruition.' Now, they were arguing over what they should do.
No one had seriously entertained the notion that they could fight back and perhaps seize control of the Kingdom of Har. Even if they somehow managed to depose King Maginn and defeat his army, the Riorns would still be outnumbered by more than four-to-one by the rest of the human population, most of whom had no love for goblins. Besides, Zora Alishanda was unlikely to support them in any endeavour that involved bloody conquest and a chance of genocide, which made it even less likely that they would succeed.
And so, they had universally agreed to leave Har and find somewhere else to live. The problem was that there were so many different ideas as to where, which were the subject of much debate, headstrong and vehement.
One faction, led by a young woman named Ayla Riorn, argued that they should found their own city in a different part of Ecnoth. After all, it was a vast expanse of land, sparsely populated, which had never recovered from the damage and depopulation it had suffered at the end of the Second Age, and therefore if the Riorns were to found their own city in some inobtrusive location, no one would be in a position to complain.
The problem was that, although it was true that Ecnoth was underpopulated, the main reason why no one had rushed to resettle it after the devastation caused by the Demon War was that most of it was a cold, snowy wasteland, where there was no fertile soil for crops or animal feed. The city of Har itself was only in a good location relative to its northern neighbour, the icy realm of Skahandar, which was even more of a snowy wasteland. In fact, long before it was seized by King Maginn's distant ancestor, who declared that it belonged to him and his family in perpetuity, Har was once a gathering place where many of the Skahandi tribes would 'over-winter'. It was sheltered by the mountains and there was a river running through it, so it must have seemed like paradise to people who'd endured the worst of the frozen north, but it wasn't what anyone else would consider to be 'prime real estate'.
The best land that had once been part of the Kingdom of Ecnoth was on the fertile slopes surrounding the Sea of Mists, which was presumably why they were now part of the Republic of Eoforwyn. Tavi had briefly considered the possibility that he and the other Riorns might seek shelter there, but had decided against it. Whether one was being hated and discriminated against because of the whims of a cruel dictator or because it was something people had voted for as part of a free and fair democratic procedure hardly made any real difference when you were one of the victims.
One of the other factions was led by Nikas Riorn, a fiery young man who believed that all goblins should return to the Dreaming World that was their ancestral home. Now that Zora Alishanda had returned, there was no reason to be afraid of what they might find there – not anymore! They would be welcomed into their goddess's shining city, where they would build their lives anew, and never again have to face poverty or hunger, bigotry or hatred. "It will be wonderful," he said.
Tavi suspected that similar conversations were going on all over the world. Would there be a mass exodus of goblins before long? For any faithful worshipper of Zora Alishanda, the idea of joining her in the Dreaming World – alongside the Krais twins and others who'd been elevated for their loyal service – was a tempting one. He suspected that the only reason why more of his family hadn't joined Nikas's faction was that they thought it was rude and presumptuous to demand such things of their goddess – things that they certainly hadn't been offered.
Meanwhile, Daktal Riorn wanted to travel south, to one of the places where goblins were already treated fairly well. "Perhaps even as far as Dharta Thennir, where goblins rule themselves," he said, in a hushed whisper.
"Don't they pay tribute to the Avanni God-Empress?" asked Ayla, eyes narrowed. "Not exactly a sign of them ruling themselves, is it?
"As long as they pay tribute, they are protected, but she mostly leaves them alone," Daktal tried to explain, but his audience was unconvinced.
And there were even more outlandish ideas suggested by the likes of Gwalim Riorn, who kept gabbling about how: "The Silver Men of Kerondar helped us while no one else would! They tried to rescue our goddess – yes, they didn't succeed, but they tried – and many of them died for it! We owe them a debt of gratitude! And so, we should honour the agreement that other goblins made with them, many years ago – we should help them rebuild their world – we could do it by partially fusing it with the Dreaming World, like what happened to Tyrepheum or the plains outside Aspitolm – and then I'm sure there'd be plenty of room up there for us!"
"Or, with their help, we could travel to a new world: a world of our own," said Daktal, wistfully.
"There are better worlds than this," said Nikas, as if stating an incontrovertible fact.
At last, all of them turned at one to where Tavi was sitting with his fellow elders. "Honoured grandfather, what should we do?" asked Ayla.
"Please guide us," said Daktal.
Nikas went so far as to kneel before him, hands held together as if in prayer. "Lead us, Chosen One."
"All right," said Tavi, getting up. "Let's see… I think we should go through the Dreaming World. Maybe we won't stay there forever, but it's somewhere Maginn's scouts can't follow. And no doubt it'll be warmer, dryer and quicker than travelling overland. Safer, too, now that we won't have to worry about rogue nightmares. And after that… when we're far away from here…" He paused, screwing up his face in careful consideration. "Well, we don't need to decide just now. Maybe some more opportunities will come up. The point is, when we've found a safe place to stay, even if it's just temporary, we can do whatever we want. And that's just what we'll do."
Stepping through the crowd, he issued commands: "Spread the word: everyone is to gather here before nightfall. I'll open the way to the Dreaming World and we'll go through a few at a time. Bring your children, pets, livestock, everything else – as much as you can carry. Anything you can't carry will have to be left behind. Is that clear?"
There was general assent, although there were a few questions asked by some of his younger kin who wanted reassurance or clarification. Soon, everyone was moving with purpose. Together, they would make sure that everything was ready so they could pack up and leave later that day.
'Goodbye, Alin Har,' Tavi thought to himself. 'Thanks for all the shitty weather and the persecution and so on. You won't be missed.'
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Oh! Huzzah~ thank you for taking my request!
Screw those guys! May the nightjars sing and the night-breeze ring for the return of the goddess of dreams! May your fears bear teeth and your tears run deep for the evils your hands have wrought!
Awh, that's... Really sad to hear about. Understandable, but... It hurts knowing the world was so cruel to them.
Good riddance, Alin Har. And this life be kinder, Tavi...
Flashkannon
Aqua Iconographer
- Location
- TM 91
Ah, Tavi. You, too, shall never enter the hedge maze. Really, it's funny how much that the group that made Hedgy what he was has been rewoven into a new pattern - and I can hardly say it was bad for them. Now we're just waiting on our time traveller from the past.
"This place has been awful good to us."
"No it hasn't that's why we're leaving."
"Oh you're right, so long stink burg!"
Anyway very solid stuff, fun to see how radically a deity being presented and involved can change things up with creating options like "Leave the world entirely" now being on the table. Also the pogroms are depressing but unsurprising, good work here.
Chandagnac
Broken Robot
- Location
- Nowhere
You're welcome.
In this setting, goblins are a despised minority, so I didn't think it was likely that having their goddess return would solve all their problems. Instead, it's caused a whole bunch of new problems.
Samaya closed all the portals around the hedge maze when she was there to rescue Raef, so there is no portal for Mahri to go through, which means there is no chance of her time-traveling.
(Hmm. Should I write another epilogue from Mahri's POV...?)
Well.... I'm not going to say no to more epilogue if you're up for it! But if you don't, I personally feel okay imagining her living out her life happily in her own time and place.
Yeah that makes a depressing amount of sense, but at least they have someone in their corner now.
Flashkannon
Aqua Iconographer
- Location
- TM 91
Well, we never did find out what exactly her life would have been like if she never got portalled, so... one would imagine, this might be the last time she's ever relevant.
Before the Beginning (Epilogue)
New
Chandagnac
Broken Robot
- Location
- Nowhere
I was unwell over the Christmas period (and I'm on my second round of antibiotics), but I finally got around to writing the Mahri epilogue. It's pretty short, but it includes everything I wanted it to.
*
Before the Beginning
It was for this reason that she was wandering the hills with a sling and a pouch of smooth pebbles she'd found on a dried-up riverbed, foraging among the small trees and thorny bushes, searching for food. It was the wrong time of year for most of the fruits she liked best, even if they hadn't been stripped bare already, but perhaps she might shoot down a small bird, or a rabbit – or some other rodent – something that would add meat to the day's stew pot.
But she was disappointed. She caught nothing, though she felt as if she must have walked for hours. There was nothing to catch.
The air was still, the sky was clear, and an oppressive heat bore down on her. She stumbled through a frozen landscape in which nothing else seemed to move, not even tiny insects. A sickening, seeping suspicion grew within her: had this entire region been stripped bare, completely denuded of life, except for some of the hardiest and most inedible plants? It was a brief fantasy, as if she'd passed through a waking dream, but it filled her with dread.
Was she being silly? Like a child who'd listened to too many of her nana's tales, daydreaming horrors in every shadow? By the time she returned to camp, would everything have returned to normal? Or would it be as lifeless and empty as the landscape she now walked?
She caught a glimpse of something ahead of her, through a gap in the cliffs. It seemed to gleam and glitter, verdant and green. Scrambling up the slope, over scree and weatherbeaten rocks, she saw it clearly: a hole in the air, through which she could see a distant land.
It was like a reflection on the surface of a still lake. Gazing at it, she saw a forest like she had never seen before: thick walls of bushes and shrubs that seemed to sprawl for miles, arranged in spiral patterns around a central stone tower like a jutting finger pointing up at the sky, all of which were overlooked by snow-capped mountains. She felt as if it were calling to her. It seemed to promise a new life, far away from her daily struggles, worries and chores. There, she would see and experience strange and exotic things, marvels and wonders and monstrosities, endless excitement beyond her wildest imaginings, more than she had ever dreamed of. All she had to do was step forth, through the hole in the air.
It would be easy. Instant.
She could see it all so clearly. A mysterious, verdant, wondrous place: a distant land that might as well have been a make-believe story, so far removed from anything she knew.
Just one more step.
But before she could move, she felt something holding her back, warning her, like the cry of a carrion bird. 'Beware,' it seemed to say. 'Beware!'
She hesitated. She saw that far-off landscape, like a distant dream, every detail, more clearly than any painting or woven image she had ever seen. So beautiful…
With a monumental effort, she turned away. It felt painful to do so. But she knew she had to go back. Back to her boring, regular life. Her family. Everything she knew. Fears of drought and war and looming starvation. She couldn't leave any of that behind. Not this time.
She began to walk. Back to camp. Behind her, the hole suddenly snapped shut. When she looked back, it was gone. As if it had never been. Perhaps it had only ever been a dream.
Now, I've only got three more epilogues to write. I'll get there in the end.