Chapter Text
In the Vine Palace, all windows had been covered with white silks, the sign of a house in mourning, as were most other buildings in Green-Sky. The Broad Grund and Sky Grund shops refused to do so, as did citizens whose feelings about the Rejoyning were ambivalent at best.
The excitement and Joy that swept Green-Sky after the discovery of the Erdling exiles, and the initial outpouring of compassion and goodwill, had given way to confusion and malaise. Many Kindar resented the upheaval to their social order, confused by their more passionate and expressive Erdling neighbors. There were just as many Erdlings who resented their suffering and confinement under the Root and blamed all Kindar for their complacency. Some talked about separation. Others, the followers of Salaat and Befal, called for “defending” themselves and their people against the other. Rejoyning was seen as an empty promise, and perhaps Neshom’s promise of a world without violence was just as empty. The voices calling for unity and peace were weakened while those calling for hatred and separation grew stronger. The Holy Children had been too young and unsuited for the role. Raamo, the chief voice and implementor for the Rejoyning, had drowned in the Bottomless Lake, and no one had been able to take his place.
We should all become the Zhaan, the one people of Green-Sky. Yes, she said it. Yes, she believed in it still. And yet, D’ol Falla knew her own role in its division and a lifetime of untruth. High Priestess of the Vine…jailer of those who asked too many questions or saw what they shouldn’t. How many had she sent to death through a cup of honeyed wine and darkness below? She knew that not all the Kindar she exiled lived to find shelter with the Erdlings. Some never awoke from the poison. Others must have fallen in the caverns or perished from hunger and thirst before they could be cared for. She should have carried that Tool. She should have been the one who cast herself into the lake, not a youth too overwhelmed by the destiny she crafted for him.
She was truly the heir to Wissen, the last murderer, wasn’t she?
Sleep would not come, so by the light of the Spirit Lamp, she sat in the Forbidden Chamber, surrounded by artifacts of the ancients. There were metal tools far more advanced than Erdling craftspeople had been able to replicate, books full of dangerous history documenting endless cruelties, a handheld device that had once been a “computer unit,” replicas of violence tools that had been used to indoctrinate children to attack others…
With a deep sigh, D’Ol Falla shook her head and stared into the lamp, hoping for answers or peace. After many hours of meditation, the vision seized her
The Spirit fades, in Darkness Lying…
A light in the cold and dark, shivering and delirious from pain and fever, stumbled blindly through the caverns. Rough stone beneath the seeker’s fingers, damp on the walls, the sound of breathing echoed into nothingness.
Strangely, the rough surface of stone gave way to something smoother, colder. Brushing against a cool, flat surface, the very walls and floor seemed to hum with life. Dim light, no brighter than a honeylamp filled the room.
What looked like a row of very strange nids occupied the far wall of the room. Exhausted and dizzy, the seeker all but crawled over to the closest one, climbing in. The last thing remembered was the top of it, clear like enchanted water, closing over the chamber.
What the seeker could not see was the panel above the row of pod-like chambers.
STASIS UNITS ONLINE
LEISTUNG: MINIMAL
LIEBENSUNTERSTÜTZUNG: ONLINE
The strange nids would shelter for now, but the lights were dim. They would fade soon, and the weary one with it…
The Light is Dying.
Stumbling out of the chamber, and out to the branchpaths outside, she gripped a branch railing, gulping fresh air to try and calm her racing heart and spinning head.
“Priestess?” It was Atria, one of the adjuncts sent to help her with administrative duties.
“Find the Rejoyners; Neric, Genaa, Ambassadors Herd and Kanna, Pomma and Teera as well. Send out word to all messengers; they must come to the Vine Palace at once.”
“Why? What is –“ Atria’s eyes were wide with fear.
“I had a vision, Atria. A room…a light…” She shook her head, gathering enough strength to stand with the aid of her staff. “I remember only these words. ‘The Spirit fades, in Darkness lying. The Light is dying.’”