A trip back to the surface
I made a trip up to the surface. After so much time traveling through the ages, I felt the need to get back into slightly more human environs. I wanted to feel that I was again on the planet Earth. I know where D'ni is. I know that it is part of this world. But as one starts spending any amount of time there, as the city and everything it represents begins to fill one's thoughts and invade one's dreams, it is clear that D'ni may be part of the Earth, but it is not of this world.
I just needed to feel the Earth under my feet. I needed to feel my sun's warmth on my face. I needed breath air not filtered through I do not know how many miles of D'ni caverns, fans, filters. I needed to be someplace where the water did not glow.
I never even got past the Cleft.
There I was, standing again at the begining of the Journey. The sand of the desert under my boots crunched as I made my way around Zandi's propery, repeating the steps of the ritual first done not so many years ago.
I walked over to Zandi's Airstream. I stopped for a second at the cloth there, just staring. Placing my hand on the cloth I closed my eyes and tried to remember the words Zandi had first greeted me with when I was finally able to follow the feeling that was drawing me to there, to the Cleft.
The message seemed so simple at the time. And somewhat comforting. I wasn't alone. There would be others on this Journey with me. And the others . . .
The heat was starting to get to me. I reached up and pulled off my santa hat, laughing for a moment about not having dressed for desert. I couldn't tell if it was wet from sweat from having walked around in the sun, or if it was still wet for the near constant rain in Relto.
How much more did Zandi know? I still do not really know what it is I am doing here. I just followed the call to what I now know as D'ni. This was just the start of the Journey . . . the first step on the road.
Then I looked up to the top of the volcano. I half expected to see a Bahro staring back down at me. The realization that even here, on the surface, the Bahro could be here, waiting for us. Watching. Waiting. Maybe even stalking.
How much longer will the Bahro ignore the Explorers? How much longer will D'ni be safe, free from the kind of horror uncovered by Rosette and Willow?
Walking back towards the sign along the fence, I looked out over the field of sand and rock, and beyond into the barren desert, till I was back at the sign. Back at the beginning.
In front of me was the world, as far as the eye could see. Everything I had left to make my way to the cavern. The life I still tried to hide from D'ni.
I could choose to just walk away, walk up the road till I could return completely to that life, away from the cavern and leave everything where the Cleft and the caldera were right then, behind me.
The weight of the leather jacket I was wearing (surprisingly still wet from Relto's rain) felt a little constricting. Could I just walk away? Could I keep walking and choose not to know where the Journey was trying to take me? Could I ignore the invasion of D'ni into my dreams?
Bending down I took a handful of the sand, the fine particles of dirt from the surface of the Age I called home. Finely ground glass. Zandi's words again ran through my head: ". . . just like the others . . . ." The others who knew. Maybe even other who right now understand.
I looked back at the caldera, looking at the gateway down into gathering of the people who, even if they did not yet understand why, were Called.
. . . Choices . . .
A lot has changed since the first of us made our way to the cavern, started on the Journey.
I let the sand fall from my hand, trying to watch each grain fall back to the Earth. I thought of the others, the other Explorers.
Relto would invariable be wet and cold and rainning. I could make my way home later. Placing the santa hat back on my head, I opened the book that would take me back to Relto, and I linked, the image the caldera suddenly replaced in my view by the waterfall and hut in Relto.
Again, it was rainning.
What would it be like in the Cavern?
I just needed to feel the Earth under my feet. I needed to feel my sun's warmth on my face. I needed breath air not filtered through I do not know how many miles of D'ni caverns, fans, filters. I needed to be someplace where the water did not glow.
I never even got past the Cleft.
There I was, standing again at the begining of the Journey. The sand of the desert under my boots crunched as I made my way around Zandi's propery, repeating the steps of the ritual first done not so many years ago.
We will show you remnants, pieces of the tapestry, pieces of the Journey. Find these remnants, these Journeys--seven--seven in each Age--seven here in the desert.
I walked over to Zandi's Airstream. I stopped for a second at the cloth there, just staring. Placing my hand on the cloth I closed my eyes and tried to remember the words Zandi had first greeted me with when I was finally able to follow the feeling that was drawing me to there, to the Cleft.
. . . I probably know more about why you're here than you do. Don't worry about it. You felt drawn here, just like the others. . .
The message seemed so simple at the time. And somewhat comforting. I wasn't alone. There would be others on this Journey with me. And the others . . .
The heat was starting to get to me. I reached up and pulled off my santa hat, laughing for a moment about not having dressed for desert. I couldn't tell if it was wet from sweat from having walked around in the sun, or if it was still wet for the near constant rain in Relto.
How much more did Zandi know? I still do not really know what it is I am doing here. I just followed the call to what I now know as D'ni. This was just the start of the Journey . . . the first step on the road.
Then I looked up to the top of the volcano. I half expected to see a Bahro staring back down at me. The realization that even here, on the surface, the Bahro could be here, waiting for us. Watching. Waiting. Maybe even stalking.
How much longer will the Bahro ignore the Explorers? How much longer will D'ni be safe, free from the kind of horror uncovered by Rosette and Willow?
Walking back towards the sign along the fence, I looked out over the field of sand and rock, and beyond into the barren desert, till I was back at the sign. Back at the beginning.
In front of me was the world, as far as the eye could see. Everything I had left to make my way to the cavern. The life I still tried to hide from D'ni.
I could choose to just walk away, walk up the road till I could return completely to that life, away from the cavern and leave everything where the Cleft and the caldera were right then, behind me.
The weight of the leather jacket I was wearing (surprisingly still wet from Relto's rain) felt a little constricting. Could I just walk away? Could I keep walking and choose not to know where the Journey was trying to take me? Could I ignore the invasion of D'ni into my dreams?
Bending down I took a handful of the sand, the fine particles of dirt from the surface of the Age I called home. Finely ground glass. Zandi's words again ran through my head: ". . . just like the others . . . ." The others who knew. Maybe even other who right now understand.
I looked back at the caldera, looking at the gateway down into gathering of the people who, even if they did not yet understand why, were Called.
. . . Choices . . .
A lot has changed since the first of us made our way to the cavern, started on the Journey.
I let the sand fall from my hand, trying to watch each grain fall back to the Earth. I thought of the others, the other Explorers.
Relto would invariable be wet and cold and rainning. I could make my way home later. Placing the santa hat back on my head, I opened the book that would take me back to Relto, and I linked, the image the caldera suddenly replaced in my view by the waterfall and hut in Relto.
Again, it was rainning.
What would it be like in the Cavern?
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