#eshroth

[murakel]

Memories of Arisgar ~ Lights in the Sky-II: Power

Kiþa se Lugio sighed in frustration and crumpled up her sheet of equations, tossing it in the vague direction of the wastepaper basket. It was the seventh time she had done so that day, and the seventh.time she'd missed the basket completely. "Still the same project?" her husband, JJenzo se Lugio, asked as he set down the lunch he had made her on an unoccupied tea table. "Everything is perfectly fine until I start calculating the power source," Kiþa grumbled, "There's no way to transfer energy from a steam engine to the focus crystals. Nothing I've tried works, even in theory!" "Maybe steam isn't the answer," JJenzo offered. "What, you mean clockwork?" she scoffed, "The complications alone make my head hurt." JJenzo nodded and pulled his wife into a tight hug. "Your friend called earlier," he told her after a while. "What friend?" she asked, honestly bemused. "You know," he coaxed, "The scientist." Kiþa rolled her eyes. "Practically all of my friends are scientists, JJen." "The cute one," he clarified, "Who heads the experimental research department at Kanda Sali se Madra." "Oh, Kar!" Kiþa finally caught on, "Kar Felujja. He is kinda cute, isn't he? What'd he have to say?" "Well, he was very secretive about the whole thing, but he did say he may have found a solution to your power problem." Kiþa was intrigued. "Did he? Well then, I suppose I'd better get in touch with him." "Better do it soon," JJenzo advised her, "He said he was heading north tomorrow. Something about some space rock in that archipelago off al'Tormis." "Lucky bastard," Kiþa grinned, making her way to the comms router, "He gets to go to the tropics and look at fallen stars while I'm stuck here trying to get this damned project to work!" "Isn't Dar Nirota just a massive volcano?" "All those islands are. They've been inactive for thousands of years, though. Dar Nirota hasn't even had a tangible emission since the '32 quake. Now hush, I need to make a call."

[murakel]

Interlude 1 - Journal

I saw our world burn. I watched, apalled, dumbfounded, as billions of the Allmother’s children faded into ash and dust; our brothers and sisters: the plants, the animals, those Alvait who remained behind, refusing to leave the rocky bosom that birthed our kind - all burning in the crucible our world had become, as we drifted away into the Void. I thought then, as we all did, that the Demons were responsible for the cold-blooded destruction of our world. It was not until much later that we learned the terrible truth, but by then it was far too late to do anything. Ancient history; a dark blot on our people’s long and checkered past. But, bitter as we may be at the betrayal and the cowardice in the planning and execution of the Exodus, I know that it was necessary. Were it not for our sacrifice, and those of our brothers and sisters and the soul of Arisgar, there would be no Alvait today, and there would be no force in place to challenge the Eshroth, or prevent its demon plague from spreading across the stars. Even knowing all this, however, I cannot help but wonder… Could it have happened differently? Would we have left as we did, had we known the truth? Would the Drayali, or the Nomta’uk, who remained behind, have done so if they had had full disclosure? Would the Demons have conquered our beloved Arisgar if we had not burned it as they swarmed our lands and consumed all we held sacred? I cannot know the answer, for the time of my generation is long past. The Vampur blood that has sustained me these three centuries, four decades and seven years has begun to cloud my mind. Even now, my scant memories of Arisgar are the bulk of what is left of my mind. And so I leave these words to my son and Second, Qaþrien of Denjjuriqal, Zefir Iluryen Jauðyen Ansridalyen. Visiil i-sanw l’ju twden fa-iig, vayenyar.

   - From the last words of Gazil of Vadriqal, Laril Kaustyen Katoyen Ansridalyen, first Vampuryen in service to the Alvait.

[murakel]

Prologue

It is said that we Alvait did not always live in our qals, drifting through the Void. It is even said we were not the only people we knew, nor ours the only language we spoke. Once, our people lived in proud city-states and mighty nations, spanning from horizon to horizon on a world, a huge ball of rock not unlike the one over which our Vampurait now keep vigil. The world’s name is lost in time, but now we call it Arisgar, the Old World. But why are we here? Why would we give up our homes, our lives, our world, and come here to live in these cramped, dark cities where there is no day-star to light and warm us? Where the unforgiving Void arcs menacingly overhead, its constant turmoil invisible in its lightless infinity? How did we become what we are now, we Alvait? Well, my child, that is quite the story, one fraught with peril and adventure both. So sit, little one, and get comfortable, and I will tell you the tale of the Demons’ attack on Arisgar.

      So I wanted to write something and this happened. Maybe there will be more later? ;P