Disclaimer: Patricia C. Wrede owns the basic plot, including characters, and the world of Lyra. Unfortunately, none of the characters are my own, but I would like to think I have given them personality (basically, this whole story is summarized in two paragraphs by Ms. Wrede). Hope you enjoy!
The sun shines brightly over a small desert camp set most picturesquely in the middle of a large plain. Behind the camp are huge dramatic white-tipped mountains, pointing up at the achingly clear blue sky. Some greenery can be seen behind the village; obviously an oasis of some sorts. While the land is one of dramatic contrast, its very hardship lends towards a sense of peace. To those below, it is the perfect place.
Down in the camp, life goes on peacefully. Animals are gathered, sheared, and herded; people trade and talk and laugh. They are just people, after all, even if they are all extremely tall and golden-skinned and -haired. It is evening, and they are all gathering by the central fire for another peaceful summer's evening. It is the perfect end to a perfect day.
Three moons rise, one by one, in the sky, but none is so majestic as the brilliant silver moon, Rysanor. And suddenly, though nobody is watching, the moon has a shadow across it, darkening the night sky. And all the people look up in surprise at the sudden darkness; never has such a thing happened before. Suddenly, everything... hurts. And then twists. Even the very air has pain in it, pain and the memory of an extreme dissonance in it; music twisted beyond reckoning.
Screams rise up from the oasis, screams of pain and suffering rising on the warm summer breeze. The screams are those of extreme suffering: a never-ending world of pain. The sounds add to the dissonance, accenting it, increasing its pain. And the people below are melting, twisting like the air they breathe. Slowly, agonizingly, they melt and change shapes, shrinking into little sad-eyed red beings. And still they are screaming....
And it isn't just this camp. The entire planet is screaming... over the course of four years, the planet screams in pain, and all anyone can hear is the dissonance.
* * * * *
Evening. The sun was setting, as the three moons of Lyra rose, one after the other, in the ever-darkening sky. First came Elewyth, ever the leader, shining green in the sky, then Kaldarin, an angry red, faintly showing its black stripe, and finally Rysanor, the third moon, the largest and most flamboyant.
In the spacious city of Esseneth, in what would later be known as 869 BWB (Before the Wars of Binding), so long before the said wars that not a single of its inhabitants could even construe the meaning of such wars, a young woman waited.
No, not in the shadows, she merely waited for her friend, Heimerl. He was at another one of those meetings, this evening, a meeting with people whom the young woman avoided through feelings of self-preservation. She didn't like Heimerl after those meetings, but she'd promised him she'd meet him there afterwards, and she didn't break her promises easily. Heimerl always always came out of these meetings flushed and excited- almost drunk, like the time they had both gotten drunk on her father's wine years and years ago. As far as she knew, Heimerl had never touched alcohol since then. But after those meetings, it was almost as if he was drunk. Oh, he didn't hurt her or anything, but he was so excited, so restless.
Amaranth had no idea what exactly he did in those meetings, nor did she want to know. It was enough that they made Heimerl lose his normal apathy and bitterness for a restlessness she couldn't recognize.
She looked across at the building where Heimerl had entered a little over two hours ago. Amaranth didn't want to know, exactly, what Heimerl did in there with his friends; nevertheless, she was a little curious.
Heimerl came out of the building across the street, spotted Amaranth, and hurriedly walked over. His rather ragged cloak concealed a surprisingly large body. While he had the ordinary golden look of any Eleann, his was a burnished gold, almost bronzed. His hair was of the same shade of copper. He was grinning broadly- an odd expression to be seen on his usual dour face- and greeted her excitedly.
Amaranth! I'm glad to see that you were able to make it.
How could I forget to come meet my good friend Heimerl?
They both smiled at each other. There was a lot in that smile- a firm friendship, dating back to each other's childhoods. The knowledge of their many escapades together- not simply getting drunk that afternoon- created a firm bond between the two that had lasted through both adolescence and early adulthood. Heimerl, now in his mid-twenties, looked at Amaranth much as the younger sister he never had. And she in return looked up to him as only a girl of twenty can look up to those only a few years older than her.
They began walking towards Heimerl's rooms, when suddenly Heimerl stopped in the middle of the road and turned towards Amaranth. Amaranth, I need to tell you something. The girl looked up at him curiously. My friends and I are designing a rather powerful spell, and we need somewhere lonely in which try it out. After all, we don't want to hurt anyone by accident. So, I'm leaving tomorrow; this is just to tell you not to come wait for me tomorrow or something, since we'll all be gone. He smiled to himself, thinking thoughts that had nothing to do with his current life.
Amaranth only nodded. But she couldn't help asking slowly, Do you have any ideas when you'll be back?
The older man looked at her. She truly was a little nymph, he thought. All lightness and air; she didn't walk, she danced. And yet, there was tremendous talent in her. It was too bad that... well, it was just too bad, that's all. They could have used someone with her strength, her power. But she didn't have the right temperament; Heimerl knew that.
I... really have no idea, he answered slowly. He couldn't lie to her; not this almost-sister of his. It could be anywhere from a week to a month, really. He forced a brief laugh. After all, we don't really know how all the effects of the spell. We'll be headed for the Leonin Desert to try it out; nobody lives there.
Amazed, Amaranth looked up at him. Why, there was an entire population of Eleann in the Leonin! Of course, they were only nomads, and not good for much, especially not in most magics, but still..... shrugging her shoulders, Amaranth continued walking. If Heimerl felt that he could risk them, she was not going to dissuade him. Having looked up to him all her life, even through his bitterness and cynicism- never pointed towards her, but always there, impossible to ignore- she couldn't very well start now. But she couldn't help but mention it.
Heimerl, the Etrusca live in the Leonin.
He looked back with his more normal glance. They aren't good for anything. Only keep those herds of geats. I'm surprised nobody's tried to wipe them out before now. He continued walking, not noticing that Amaranth had stopped in astonishment. She turned and left abruptly. Heimerl neither noticed, nor seemed to care. His thoughts were busy with the spell his friends had planned for the day after next.
It all hinged on Rysanor. She would be full, and in just the right spot, in two days' time, and the spell had to happen then. Otherwise, nothing. Not for another year would Rysanor be in the same place again. And in a year... who knows what could happen. In Heimerl's cold, bitter heart, there also ran an impatience. Time was running out- that he knew. His told him this every evening when he returned to his building. Heimerl shuddered at that thought. It would have to go, and go soon. It was just too much on top of everything else. What exactly about his turned his stomach so cold, he wasn't sure, but there it was.
Now, this last night before he would be leaving, he found he couldn't bear the thought of seeing his that evening. Though he might claim ownership over the thing, he could not give it a name. Heimerl, his face now turned dour again at the thought of what awaited him at home, turned and walked towards the park. The summer night was warm; he was packed and prepared. He could just sleep in the park.
A/N: So the next chapter's going to go into Heimerl a little bit- just for background info. After that, we will leave him to his fate and follow Amaranth and others you have yet to meet. Please R&R! Any commentary will be MOST welcome! -Kirjava
