Reasons
So, as I don’t trust the journal itself to try and embellish the action to make it more interesting (see previous entry), here is an experiment. This is a record of a conversation between Nik and I, as much as I can remember of it. Nothing else actually happens. We’ll see how it eventually gets written.
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During the long trail up the side of a tall hill, in order to get a better view of distant mountains:
Nik: “Hm ah, so been having meant to ask, if have said afore than apologies, but… what is such as yourself running out here for?”
Me (after decoding Nik-speak enough to understand what he meant): “I think you’re asking why I’m way out here in the Broken Lands? Well, I’m trying to get back home, for one…”
Nik nodded, waving a paw. “Yes yes, said that asmuch, yes. Is not answering whyfor behind home-going.”
“I know, I know. I was getting to that. I’m trying to get back to the city. Er, my city at least. But you might have noticed, I’m not in that big of a hurry.”
“Is such a bad thing, returning? Some strange horrible fate awaiting?”
I flicked my tail, irritated. This wasn’t something I wanted to have to bring up again. “No, but I’m not exactly welcome, either. Let me try to explain a bit. I think I mentioned that I was in, well…the closest thing would be I guess a religious cell, something like the old monasteries.”
“Ah!” Nik sounded more amused than interested, probably over the quaint concept of religion. “Your unmade godthing, yes?”
I shrugged, used to this sort of unintended disrespect. “Yeah, the Unmade God. We would study the Broken Lands and anything else we could find in the limited memories of the history forest about the Fall itself. Not a lot of material to go over, but we read and re-read what we could. The rest was…speculation, mostly, and philosophy. We called ourselves the Devoted, because we didn’t believe our God was actually dead-broken, yes, but able to eventually heal.”
Nik scratched his head, and grinned somewhat condescendingly. “Is evidence for such beliefness, then?”
I pointed at a shimmering discontinuity in the air about a mile to our left. “Shattered reality that continues to function as if it were whole? We’re standing in the evidence that something happened, back in the Fall. The Unmade one is our version of the story. It might not be true, any more than….well, do you believe that anything we experienced while trapped in those story-stone was real?”
He glanced away, and I thought I saw a guilty look in his eyes for a moment. “Long behind us, we will put that. Was no more real, only story, but… real enough as to us, seemed. Real and story not always opposites. Hm! Theories as said, though, I know well to knowing… ways of how and why and who and what, as for when of Fall time. I am much interested in the same.”
I hadn’t actually thought about his own interest in this, I had to admit. “It’s…a bit different, but yeah, I guess you are doing something similar. The difference is, I’m not doing this by choice, exactly.”
Nik looked at me sideways. “As how one can be against will wandering into these Lands, would like to know. Not easy going between, as noted when I first found you, a bit lost, hm?”
“Exactly. I was barely surviving. That’s the thing, I’m not a hardened explorer. I’m not the type of Devoted who usually went off on the trips into the unknown. I wasn’t prepared for any of this. “
The ground shifted from packed dirt under our feet to loose gravel. Nik glanced down to be sure of his footing. I went on, knowing he was just going to ask. “I’ll tell you why. I’m a Scribe. There has only been one at a time in the history of the Devoted, it’s the one whose job it is to record anything new regarding our studies. Since the world hasn’t changed much since the Fall, some of that was the history of the cities, but a lot of it was recording the adventures of the explorers who came…well, out here.” I made a sweeping gesture. “It was a nice job. I got to sit around the compound, staying in the background, but able to hear all the fun stories of everyone else’s adventures. I never wanted to have any of my own.”
Nik seemed shocked at this. “Curious not? Wonder and mystery of all these shardlings, new and excitement always?”
“Nik, I talked to fellow Devoted who had actually been out here. It wasn’t just rumors and hearsay. Wonder and mystery? More like danger and unpredictability. Exactly like the sort we’ve been through the last…” I waved my hands in frustration, “…whatever it’s been. Months. Year.”
Nik shrugged. Time measurements were meaningless out here anyway. “Right. You having then been kicked onto journey of your own?”
I nodded. “It’s not something I talk about. Look, every acolyte in the Devoted has to do the journey at some point. Usually when they’re still young. I’d been avoiding it, making myself unnoticeable. One of the elders finally noticed, and booted me out. I can’t come back until….well, that’s complicated. Until I learn something, but they never tell you what that is, exactly.”
Nik looked puzzled at that. “Is mandate to…get lost out here? Losing members too easy, if that is way, thinking.”
“It’s more than that, Nik. It’s more…philosophical. Part of our belief is that, well, these lands are sacred. Mind of the broken god, all that sort of thing. I never quite believed it, myself, but… now I’m not so sure. The idea was that we follow in the god’s footsteps, come up against something life-changing, and return to the city changed. Not to actually die, I mean, but something that comes close to it. A ‘breaking’ or ‘unmaking’ of a sort. We approximate the death-and-resurrection cycle in order that the god might follow the pattern as well.”
Nik must have caught something in my voice, as I was mainly repeating from rote. “You are heretic, then?”
I cringed. That’s what I was trying to avoid. “That is one way to put it, bluntly. I never believed that the God would ever wake back up. I still don’t think he will.”
It was at that point, of course, that the sky chose to explode.
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During the long trail up the side of a tall hill, in order to get a better view of distant mountains:
Nik: “Hm ah, so been having meant to ask, if have said afore than apologies, but… what is such as yourself running out here for?”
Me (after decoding Nik-speak enough to understand what he meant): “I think you’re asking why I’m way out here in the Broken Lands? Well, I’m trying to get back home, for one…”
Nik nodded, waving a paw. “Yes yes, said that asmuch, yes. Is not answering whyfor behind home-going.”
“I know, I know. I was getting to that. I’m trying to get back to the city. Er, my city at least. But you might have noticed, I’m not in that big of a hurry.”
“Is such a bad thing, returning? Some strange horrible fate awaiting?”
I flicked my tail, irritated. This wasn’t something I wanted to have to bring up again. “No, but I’m not exactly welcome, either. Let me try to explain a bit. I think I mentioned that I was in, well…the closest thing would be I guess a religious cell, something like the old monasteries.”
“Ah!” Nik sounded more amused than interested, probably over the quaint concept of religion. “Your unmade godthing, yes?”
I shrugged, used to this sort of unintended disrespect. “Yeah, the Unmade God. We would study the Broken Lands and anything else we could find in the limited memories of the history forest about the Fall itself. Not a lot of material to go over, but we read and re-read what we could. The rest was…speculation, mostly, and philosophy. We called ourselves the Devoted, because we didn’t believe our God was actually dead-broken, yes, but able to eventually heal.”
Nik scratched his head, and grinned somewhat condescendingly. “Is evidence for such beliefness, then?”
I pointed at a shimmering discontinuity in the air about a mile to our left. “Shattered reality that continues to function as if it were whole? We’re standing in the evidence that something happened, back in the Fall. The Unmade one is our version of the story. It might not be true, any more than….well, do you believe that anything we experienced while trapped in those story-stone was real?”
He glanced away, and I thought I saw a guilty look in his eyes for a moment. “Long behind us, we will put that. Was no more real, only story, but… real enough as to us, seemed. Real and story not always opposites. Hm! Theories as said, though, I know well to knowing… ways of how and why and who and what, as for when of Fall time. I am much interested in the same.”
I hadn’t actually thought about his own interest in this, I had to admit. “It’s…a bit different, but yeah, I guess you are doing something similar. The difference is, I’m not doing this by choice, exactly.”
Nik looked at me sideways. “As how one can be against will wandering into these Lands, would like to know. Not easy going between, as noted when I first found you, a bit lost, hm?”
“Exactly. I was barely surviving. That’s the thing, I’m not a hardened explorer. I’m not the type of Devoted who usually went off on the trips into the unknown. I wasn’t prepared for any of this. “
The ground shifted from packed dirt under our feet to loose gravel. Nik glanced down to be sure of his footing. I went on, knowing he was just going to ask. “I’ll tell you why. I’m a Scribe. There has only been one at a time in the history of the Devoted, it’s the one whose job it is to record anything new regarding our studies. Since the world hasn’t changed much since the Fall, some of that was the history of the cities, but a lot of it was recording the adventures of the explorers who came…well, out here.” I made a sweeping gesture. “It was a nice job. I got to sit around the compound, staying in the background, but able to hear all the fun stories of everyone else’s adventures. I never wanted to have any of my own.”
Nik seemed shocked at this. “Curious not? Wonder and mystery of all these shardlings, new and excitement always?”
“Nik, I talked to fellow Devoted who had actually been out here. It wasn’t just rumors and hearsay. Wonder and mystery? More like danger and unpredictability. Exactly like the sort we’ve been through the last…” I waved my hands in frustration, “…whatever it’s been. Months. Year.”
Nik shrugged. Time measurements were meaningless out here anyway. “Right. You having then been kicked onto journey of your own?”
I nodded. “It’s not something I talk about. Look, every acolyte in the Devoted has to do the journey at some point. Usually when they’re still young. I’d been avoiding it, making myself unnoticeable. One of the elders finally noticed, and booted me out. I can’t come back until….well, that’s complicated. Until I learn something, but they never tell you what that is, exactly.”
Nik looked puzzled at that. “Is mandate to…get lost out here? Losing members too easy, if that is way, thinking.”
“It’s more than that, Nik. It’s more…philosophical. Part of our belief is that, well, these lands are sacred. Mind of the broken god, all that sort of thing. I never quite believed it, myself, but… now I’m not so sure. The idea was that we follow in the god’s footsteps, come up against something life-changing, and return to the city changed. Not to actually die, I mean, but something that comes close to it. A ‘breaking’ or ‘unmaking’ of a sort. We approximate the death-and-resurrection cycle in order that the god might follow the pattern as well.”
Nik must have caught something in my voice, as I was mainly repeating from rote. “You are heretic, then?”
I cringed. That’s what I was trying to avoid. “That is one way to put it, bluntly. I never believed that the God would ever wake back up. I still don’t think he will.”
It was at that point, of course, that the sky chose to explode.