Sanghelios.
Thar 'Dezum allowed the air to leave her lungs at last, defeated. A sigh resigned to failure, it echoed weakly from the walls of the squat temple, before being swallowed completely. She set her jaws and stared, once again, at the symbols. Prodded one. Nothing. No progress.
Frustration gripped her, forcing her jaws open in a snarl. A four-fingered fist slammed the wall. She stared at the dust-coated floor, shuddered, and squeezed them shut. Knelt.
A sound.
'Dezum looked up, blinking. She recoiled from the wall, falling backwards, as something emerged – round, familiar… arum? Not possible, surely? She reached out, trembling, unsure, to accept it.
But, is this is not a Kaidon's duty? No, no… I found this. It is mine. As she finished the thought, the warm orange glow that had been filtering in through the entranceway was blocked, abruptly. She raised her gaze.
"Sar," She blinked, "look what I have, sister." Thar stood, raising dust, holding the arum out to her. "The temple gave it to me. Look."
Sar 'Dezum regarded the object, and then plucked it from the other female's shaking hand. Dust followed her and swirled in her wake.
"Careful, Sar." Thar said, patting the dirt from her clothes. "It is very old."
"Does that matter?" Sar turned the arum over in her hands. It was shiny, metallic, bronze in colour. "If it is Forerunner, age is of no consequence." She placed the object back into her hand. "Can you do it?"
Thar blinked, clasping the puzzle-orb. "Maybe. But it will require some time."
"How long? The priests must not know we have come here, Thar." Sar shot a glance outside. Thar remained absorbed with the arum.
"I know. We mustn't rush, though, sister." Thar began to rotate sections of the sphere. "Perhaps, the arum comes from the Forerunners?"
"The arum is a toy." Sar muttered, "If it was left by Forerunners, it probably has a meaning we do not grasp." She snorted, rubbing a nostril in an attempt to rid it of dust. Then she turned back to Thar, spreading her jaws in a short yawn, and waited. Arums could be very difficult, she knew, and if Forerunners left this one… it would be tricky, certainly.
Some time passed before Thar placed the arum on the ground and stared at it. Once again, she was failing to make progress. She sighed, squeezing her eyes shut once more. Sar stooped and picked up the orb, then held it level with her eyes. She began to fiddle with it, idly.
"We can return tomorrow, Thar, do not worry yourself so much."
Thar snapped her jaws. "We could get into… a lot of trouble. Just for being here."
"True. But when you unlock whatever secrets the temple holds, it will be different, you will see." Sar said, almost tiredly.
"We. Both of us."
"What-" Sar was interrupted by a faint click form the arum. Thar stepped to her, quickly, eyes wide. She patted Sar's shoulder lightly, excited.
"Open it, do." Thar urged.
"Very well," Sar said, unsure. Another slight movement, and it was open.
Usually, Thar knew, an arum held a small stone. This was different, though. The center flickered for a moment, sputtering light – then it took form. The orb projected a series of symbols – it took Thar a moment to recognize them.
"The wall, look." She dipped her head to scan the walls for the symbols. "Find them, they must be the answer."
Sar, still a little stunned, nodded slowly. She, too, began to search the walls, the arum clasped securely in one hand. The wall was similar in texture to the arum's surface. Scanning the lines of symbols that adorned the material she almost missed one of the projected ones.
"This one, who presses it?"
"Hm." Thar considered the question, turned it over in her mind, "Perhaps it does not matter. So long as they are in the right order."
It took them some time to work along the three walls, activating the symbols in order. When they were almost finished, Sar froze.
"What is it?" Thar took a moment to notice.
"Someone approaches. We must hurry."
"Watch the entrance, then, I will complete this." Thar set about scanning for the last symbol as Sar peered out of the building, gripping the stone outer wall with one claw, and the arum with the other. She squinted in the growing darkness. It was one of the guards – or perhaps one of the priests.
Whichever it was, he was heading their way. Sar retreated into the small room.
"Are you done, Thar?"
She was staring at the last symbol. "I was waiting for you. This one." She pointed to it. "It is for you."
Sar squeezed her jaws shut and placed the arum into her pocket. Then she pressed the symbol. There was a shout outside, a sudden blinding brightness, then – nothing.
Location unknown.
It worked.
I truly worked.
Thar found herself able to think, yet unable to move. Or see. A question came to mind:
Where am I?
She could feel her limbs, numbly, and her fingers. She could almost move them. Suddenly it came to her attention that she was unable to breathe, however. With that thought, Thar took a breath.
Her throat filled with water.
The young Sangheili wrenched herself from the mud at the bottom of the shallow steam, spluttering, then coughing, jaws spread wide. She went on coughing for some time before dipping her face into the water – cold, unpleasant – to remove the majority of the dirt. She wondered how long she had been there – not long; she wasn't dead. Peeling herself from the mud completely, she stood. Her legs felt weak and her arms tingled. Her eyes hurt.
"Sar?" She sniffed, frowning. "Sar!"
No reply. She wasn't here. And 'here' was not home. Thar stared at the place; tall, spiky trees, sharp red grass that left little cuts around the feet. The sky was a pale blue; wispy clouds drifted above.
Thar realised just how cold the water had left her. Her hands and toes remained numbed by the chill, and she trembled. Her clothes were soaking, too; they weren't any help to her. She checked her belt. The knife she had stolen from the guard was still there. Well, that was good, at least.
The thought to find shelter only hit her when she saw how dim the light had become; even in the short time she had been awake.
Then… what about Sar?
It would have to wait. Sar was strong – stronger than her, at least – she would manage. Something caught Thar's eye, then. At first, she had thought it to be a part of a cliff, but now that she could see more clearly that clearly wasn't the case. It bulged from the rocks, smooth, grey – shiny. Graceful. Forerunner, it had to be. It rose tall, up from the rocks. It would provide shelter – the gods would – for her. It wasn't far. She could make it before nightfall, if she hurried.
She could search for Sar at dawn. The night only meant danger; it would be a mistake to search now. Perhaps she would be in the temple when Thar got there anyway.
She could only hope so. Hope the gods were watching over them.
Then again, maybe they weren't.
Cold.
Biting cold.
Not the warm dunes of home.
It ripped at Sar's bare arms; icy shards, a bitter wind. It was an angry storm. She couldn't see though it. Couldn't see more than two strides ahead of her. She shuffled on, eyes slits. It continued to chew up her vision, spitting distorted images in her face.
There.
A cluster of jagged rocks jutted out from the ice. They could provide shelter, she thought. She had to try. There was no way she could survive much longer out here. It stuck her, suddenly, how hungry she was. She hadn't eaten yet today. She should have brought some food.
"No," she muttered, jaws twitching in the cold, "that's stupid. I should have brought a thicker robe."
If I'd known we were going to end up in a blizzard.
Then she was there, a claw gripping the stone. Only… no, it wasn't stone. Was it? It didn't matter. She just needed shelter – then she slipped. She wasn't sure what she had slipped on, exactly, but she found herself falling. No, sliding. There was a crack, a thump, and then darkness.
Sar woke to find that she was no longer freezing – cold, yes, but not freezing. She looked about. More Forerunner icons, large ones, decorated the walls. It was a temple, then. Not like any she had seen at home, though; this building appeared to be made of some kind of metal, rather than being constructed mainly out of stone. It was stunning, she thought, but not beautiful like the temples on Sanghelios.
She could still here the storm raging outside. Her uncles had spoken of storms, on some worlds, which would go on for years. She saw no point in trying to wait for this storm to end. The temple called. Perhaps he gods had made it so. But the gods hadn't thought to give her warmer clothing, she reminded herself, before standing up, slowly, and setting out to explore the place.
This day had started quite normally. Uncle Narum was going to teach them more in combat training, and then Forerunner symbols. These lessons had sparked Thar's interest in the small temple – the one which has apparently sent them here – and Narum had found them there. Had told them that they 'should not go there again, that it was not their place. Perhaps when they were older, when they understood the sacred relics more'.
When we had forgotten, or lost interest.
Of course, they ignored him. Some of the other youngsters came with them, at first, to help them study the temple. But they were, really, only playing. Fear of Narum's punishments drove them away, in the end.
Sar snorted. It echoed.
Narum's punishments were far away now, and meaningless. She wasn't sure if this was the gods' gift for their perseverance, or a punishment for their idiocy. Sar ran a hand over one of the wall panels. This one seemed to be a real wall. It didn't react to her touch. Or maybe it did. Only the gods themselves knew these things, fully.
If only the Forerunners had left instructions on how to ascend to godhood.
But they did – with the San'Shyuum. The Prophets.
But they were slow to give information. Slow to find a way. They had led the Covenant for so long, and they still had not found the Sacred Rings. She wanted to be there, when they did.
"Maybe this place holds the answers. Maybe we can find it for ourselves," She mused.
There was thunder outside; a low rumbling sound. It killed the semi-blasphemous thought at that.
No insult to the Prophets intended, of course. She thought, returning her attention to the panel. The gods must have their reasons for it all. Then, to her right, a large hexagonal slab of the Forerunner material slid down, from nowhere, and settled beside her.
Odd.
The guard stared. He gripped his ornamental spear a little tighter. The light had swallowed his shout of surprise, and now… the spear clattered to the ground.
He had fallen, somehow, when he appeared here. There had been a voice, someone speaking to him, that he only half-noticed. The spear itself had cut a long gash down his side. He could survive that, hopefully, but the loss of blood was only making this all the more bizarre.
The spear rattled on the ground, tipped over the edge of the wall, and vanished.
Oh, well, it wasn't a very good weapon anyway.
Then he sat down, awed. He had been standing near his home city one moment, and the next, Zal 'Zukamee was on top of a very tall wall. He touched the surface of it. It was Forerunner material, he knew. He could see towers, too, along the barrier. Some were larger than others, he noted, pointlessly. The air was very still, and he could smell his blood. He bandaged the injury with a bit of his robe, crudely, before peering over the side. In his tired state, he found it rather amusing; the wall he was sitting on divided the surface into sections. One such section, the closest, was red grassland, dotted with forested areas. Another was a sandy desert – he could see a sandstorm, and another was tundra. There were others, too, but he was having a hard time seeing them clearly.
I am in a holy place. But…
Why should this happen to me, here?
Then, Zal slept. A space opened up in the wall, and he descended.
Thar stared at the display. Some of the symbols were familiar to her, others not so much.
The tower was tall – far taller than it had appeared from the outside. She examined the image of the guard displayed before her. Turning away from the image of the apparently dead warrior, she sat down.
She considered going up the tower to him. But how would she do that? So many of the symbols and tools in this place were utterly alien to her eye and hand – she couldn't help him. It was her fault, too. She recognized him; he was one of their guards. He must have been the one who was nearby when she –
The panel behind her made a slight ringing sound. Thar turned. The other Sangheili was, in fact, alive. It seemed that the injury was not all that bad; the bleeding had slowed greatly. He had, however, dropped his spear.
Thar watched as he slowly shifted to a sitting position, peered confusedly about, then flopped over once again. She blinked, then reached up and touched the display. He wasn't too far away. Perhaps she could get him to come to her. A few symbols appeared at her touch.
No, that didn't help. She tried placing his icon on a map to her own position. Nothing happened. Thar scratched her jaws, stepping away from the display. A few moments passed, during which she closed her eyes, then the ringing noise again. She rushed back to the images.
"Ah, good." She nodded. Now it was working. A symbol for 'movement', she thought, or maybe 'transport'? She nudged the icon, scolding herself for being unable to remember properly. The injured guard was, now, on the move. She nodded once more, and settled to watch the display again.
It had taken her some time to find this guard while she had been searching for Sar. Finding him made her a little more confident that she was around here, somewhere. Had she known the symbols better, she might have been able to find the arum. That would lead to her.
She would wait for the guard, then rest. She was tired. He couldn't be far.
Sar watched the walls slide past. There was a moment of darkness, then light, and she was outside. The air was cool, but there was no storm and no snow or ice, save for a few patches of frost. Which was not what she has been expecting. The diagram the lift had shown her told her that this was a different part of the same area as before. She had at least expected snow.
She had emerged near a long, low, wall. She climbed up onto it, following its route to the horizon. Only…
Where is the horizon?
Sar squinted, then turned and tried finding the horizon behind her. She couldn't. It just faded off into nothing. The she noticed it. The wall didn't just fade into the distance; it was curving upwards, too.
No… what?
She looked again. The curve was still there. Puzzled, Sar looked upwards.
The Sangheili gaped. It wasn't the machine hovering above – although that, too, was awe-worthy – but the star. How low in seemed to hang in the sky. It made her stomach drop. She blinked a few times, then shut her jaws and looked to the machine. It seemed to be suspended in the sky somehow.
Sar would have guessed that it was a ship, perhaps, but it wasn't any design she had ever seen.
"So," someone spoke behind her "you like the ship."
She wheeled about to face the voice. Was near-paralysed for some time before the trained instinct took over, and she knelt. The Oracle regarded her oddly. It was teardrop-shaped and bobbing slightly, as if on water.
"Are you injured?"
Sar found herself staring at the floating being. She shook her head, dazed, and plunged a hand into her pocket to fish out the arum.
"I have this." She said, dumbly, holding the object up.
Monitor Charged Upholder had not seen a sentient creature for almost one hundred thousand years. This, by any standard, was quite some time.
So when the first being he encountered was a young Sangheili holding a simple lock up to his eye, he had to admit that he was slightly disappointed.
"Why, y-es. So you do." Charged Upholder tried to sound enthused. "That is how you came here. Yes? Do you have a name?"
"Yes." The Sangheili said, flatly, still holding the object out to him. Did she want him to take it? The gesture confused him. Eventually she lowered her arm and put the thing away.
"Sar 'Dezum." She told him.
The Monitor made a nodding motion, dipping in the air, before turning to the artificial star at the center of the sky, which was also artificial in nature. "I am Charged Upholder. We have much to do, if we are to preserve this world."
Sar 'Dezum appeared confused.
"Save?" She asked.
"As you can see," Upholder tried to sound patient, "the star assigned to this Shield World is no longer aligned to the sphere itself. It is in danger of destruction."
"Destruction?" Sar 'Dezum blurted out, apparently surprised.
"Yes. It will be damaged to the point where in no longer exists in its current form. That is – a form that is in any way useful." Upholder made a note to scan the creature's brain at some point in the future.
"But," The Sangheili frowned to the point of appearing angry, here, "Forerunners built this place. How can it be destroyed? They are gods."
"I see. Well, they must have withheld that information from me. All I know is that I require your aid. I am not permitted to access the systems required without the aid of another." Upholder continued to stare at Sar 'Dezum. "On their behalf."
She hesitated for a moment, nodded, stood up. So, she wasn't injured, then.
"I will serve, Oracle. But… may I ask you one thing? You are wise, you will know, I am sure."
"Yes? What is it?"
Sar 'Dezum fidgeted and moved her four mandibles, slowly.
"I believe I came here with someone else," She said at last, "I would like to see them, if it is permissible, Oracle."
Upholder was bored of this conversation. "Well, yes, but once we have finished this task."
"Very well, how long will it take?"
"Oh, not long." Upholder said, brightly.
Zal coughed. His head ached and his side burned.
"You live." A voice entered his ear, beside him. "Forgive me, I am not a great expert in medication. The sentinels helped you."
That was too much information to take in at once.
"Sentinel?" Zal blinked, without seeing. "What… who?"
"Thar," The voice said, "you know me, I think."
"Ugh." Zal sat up, seeing the young female now. He looked her over, asked: "Where are you clothes, lady?"
Thar glanced at the basic under-clothes she wore. "I arrived in a stream."
"Pardon?" Zal blinked. "'Arrived'?"
"The temple brought us here," Thar tilted her head, "and I landed in a stream. This is not Sanghelios."
"I… noticed. How long have we been here?"
"Not long." Thar stretched a jaw. "Half a day, at most. Less, I imagine."
Zal inhaled, painfully, nostrils flaring. "Why were you in the temple? It is forbidden."
"I know," Thar frowned, "but – look where we are."
He rubbed his eyes, groggily, struggling to get a firm grasp on his wits. Then he peered about the room. Silver-grey, high, walls. So high they seemed to disappear at a certain point – no ceiling. Zal reached out and patted the wall closest to him.
He shook his head. "It is remarkable," a puzzled look crossed his expression, "but this is a place for the monks, lady, not you. Or I."
"Well I agree with you, in part," the female sighed, "but I had no idea that the temple would bring us here. I did think, though… perhaps the gods chose us three."
Three?
"What do you mean, three?" Zal looked back to her. "Who else?"
"Sar 'Dezum. She, too, was in the temple. I need your help – to find her."
"Five years?" Sar cried. "That is a long time! I must see them before then, Oracle, Thar is much stronger in knowledge of the Forerunner texts than I. She would surely be very helpful in this quest."
Wait…quest?
She hissed to herself. That had sounded like a child's talk. Perhaps it would become clear that she was dreaming – this could not be a real thing that was truly happening. She just needed to wait. She would wake up.
Sar didn't wake up.
"Well," Upholder seemed to be considering her original request; "perhaps we will cross paths with your friend anyway."
A jaw shifted. "Where is she?" clearly, this Oracle felt a need to test her. She could understand that, she supposed, but now was a rather unpleasant time for it.
"A maintenance tower," he began to drift away, "with another of your kind. He required some medical attention."
Sar took a moment to take in the details of Charged Upholder's form: he was made up of smooth, angled surfaces – silver-grey, similar to the architecture about them. Below the large eye – green, she thought, though it seemed to change subtlety – a cluster of three smaller ones were arranged. Towards the narrower end of the Oracle's body, several small cylinders orbited.
"I see. Is this a test, Oracle? I would serve you much better alongside my friends, I am sure." She moved to follow, an urge to throw a pebble at him growing in her. That would be unacceptable, of course, she knew that, but the thought entertained her for a moment before she pushed it aside, scolding herself. She blinked; the Oracle had stopped.
"It is not a test. I could not reach your companions even if I was allowed to at this time. These repairs are most important. They take priority." He rotated to face Sar again. "The misalignment is causing some damage already. We cannot reach them from here until that damage can be repaired."
"Why can you not fix the damage on your own?" Sar thought that would be the obvious solution. The stare of the green eye bored into her.
"In case I caused damage to the facility," he started, "when my condition deteriorated."
That was an odd notion. Why would the Forerunners create an Oracle that could be harmed? Sar began to feel concern over irritation towards the floating entity.
"Why would that happen?"
"I am very old. All things decay." Upholder returned to drifting along ahead of her. "There is more information where we are going; you can read about it, if you really feel the need." He had a peculiar voice; almost strained, quite flat, and as if they were talking in a very small room.
"I do not read the Forerunner language well." Sar admitted. It was true. Thar was the better translator – not to say she worked any harder than her. No, she was simply… gifted.
Upholder was silent for a few moments. "I can assign a translator to you. However, not all of the information will be available."
Sar almost laughed at that. It seemed obvious that not every Forerunner secret would be revealed to her at once. The idea of an Oracle simply telling her everything it knew was rather strange.
"I understand." She thought for a moment. "I cannot go to my friend, but can I send her some kind of message?"
One of Upholder's cylinders departed from its orbit and drifted away along the wall-road before vanishing into the material.
"Where did that go?" She added.
"In answer to your first question, possibly; sometimes communication between regions works. Sometimes it does not. To your second question, I sent it to be analysed. It contained specimens of a parasitic organism which has been causing some irritation to the local animals."
Upholder turned towards something jutting out of the surface of the wall-road. Sar squinted at the thing. It could have been a control panel or another lift, she wasn't sure. Upon nearing it, however, it appeared to be a doorway.
"You must go through here. I will rejoin you soon."
Sar peered onto it. There was something through there – a portal – she could see through it.
"Wait, I still-" There was a pressure from behind her, then another blinding light, and she found herself standing in a wide, open field, "-have questions…"
Zal was a good hunter. He could track – but only when there was something there to track. He released a long breath, then yawned.
"Sar cannot be far away," the young female had said, "it won't take long."
Well, he thought, struggling to start a fire with damp material, we have been searching for two days. She is not here.
The tower may have been an impressive relic, but they had discovered quickly that it became cold during the nights, and much too hot during the height of day. A few yards away, the female – Thar – was working on a shelter. It was roughly circular, with a hole roughly at the top to let smoke out. Zal finally managed to coax a flame into existence. There was a small gust of wind. He froze as his flame disappeared, eyes fixed on the wisp of smoke. He then stood.
It's gone.
"Never mind," he forced himself to sound calm, "I am sure your shelter will be warm enough as it is." Zal angled his head towards Thar. She grunted, absorbed with a knot.
"Thar," He said, flatly. She blinked, seemed to refocus, looked at him, "hello." There was a moment of confusion in her eyes before she understood.
"Oh. Yes, I am sure it will be." Her eyes shifted to his injury. "How is it?"
He admitted; "Painful, but I will manage." The most pressing thing on his mind was food, rather than the damage to his side. There were plants here that were recognisable, they could survive – but he was still left hungry.
Thar recognized the look he gave. "If only there were colos here," she finished the knot, "we could eat properly."
Zal grumbled. He had almost managed to put colos out of his mind. Now he felt hungrier.
"I do feel that you are correct." He sighed, clasping his hands and turning to the nest Thar had made from her outer robes. The Sangheili remembered taking comfort in such cloth heaps as a child.
The female settled in the pile, staring up at him.
"We should sleep."
Zal blinked. "You should. I will keep a look out."
"An ear out. We have no means by which to see." Thar closed her eyes. "You should sleep. You are hurt."
"Still," Zal raised a hand to her, pointlessly emphasizing the point. "I need to craft a new weapon."