BTW: Rating might change to PG-13 later, when I get to chapters with excessive violence (no smut in this story!).
05.07.2005: I am removing the answers to the reviews in every chapter from here on, because I heard that fanfiction dot net removes accounts of people who answer their reviews in chapters from now on. Since I do not want everything to be deleted, I figured I'd better comply, especially since they have already done their purpose... sorry about that.
Disclaimer: The Belgariad, Malloreon, Elenium and Tamuli are property of David and Leigh Eddings, and I use their worlds and characters for non-commercial purposes only.
CHAPTER 3
"I think it is safe to say that we are very far from home, Old Wolf."
Belgarath did not reply. He thought about everything he had seen and felt in the short period of their being here. Quite obviously, they would not be able to use their gift in this place. Now that he took time and concentrated, he could feel the world refusing to serve as an anchor and a source of power for his Will. It was as if...
He looked up and in his daughters eyes, which shone blue-gray with her irritation about their state.
"Pol, I think you might be even more right than you think. Tell me, can you feel Aldur's presence in our minds, as we usually do, even when he isn't around?"
She closed her eyes to turn her look inward. After a few seconds she opened them again, her eyes the color of a cloudy sky now.
"No, I can't. Father, what does that mean?"
He scratched his beard, deep in thought. "Say, Pol, do you remember our research in the fourth millenium? The one about the theory that there might be more than just one reality?"
Polgara nodded. "There were theories about reality being entirely subject to the point of view, and stories of other realms which were..."
She stopped, only to finish the sentence in a rush: "... created by other Gods than ours! The book that mentioned this theory was a rare one, because many priests had declared it to be heresy, as there could not possibly be other Gods than the ones we're familiar with... Do you really believe that this is another world, another realm with other Gods then Belar, Nedra, Chaldan, Issa, Mara, Eriond and UL?"
Belgarath nodded thoughtfully. "The evidence points in that direction, Pol. Us not being able to use the Will and the Word, everything feeling somehow 'wrong'... and what about those knights that passed by here just a few minutes ago? Those weren't Mimbrates, nor any other race or nationality we're familiar with – and we have been all over our world, we even know almost all of the Mallorean continent. It is the only explanation I can come up with at the moment, anyway. Questions are, why did the light in the cave send us here, why would anybody from this realm want to drain our world of energy, and most prominently, what are we going to do next? How do we stop the light, and how do we get home?"
Polgara thought about his elaborations and then replied: "Well, we won't get any answers sitting here and philosophizing about our problems. We should try to find a settlement. The next step would be to try and communicate with the people – I have not much hopes that they will speak our language, if this is indeed another world. After that, we will re-evaluate our options."
The two disciples of Aldur got up, and decided to proceed in the direction where their shadows lay on the ground – after all, they were unfamiliar with their surroundings, and as they could not change into the familiar shapes of wolf and snowy owl, they did not have the advantages of a sharp nose or exceptional vision on their side.
Thus, they wandered for a few hours. The rolling grassy hills, so much like those back in Algaria, were only interrupted here and there by little streams, small accumulations of trees, and roads which wound their way through the landscape like broad ribbons of packed dirt and gravel.
After a while, the sun had wandered quite a bit already, they found a small village, which looked rather primitive, and, sadly, was completely deserted.
Belgarath shook his head. "Even if this IS another world, the methods haven't changed. This looks like an Arendish serf village to me..."
His daughter raised an eyebrow. "Father, you shouldn't judge things before you know all about them – you of all people should know this simple rule by now. We do not know who those people were, who lived here; maybe they gave up this village and went to live in better conditions, and these houses are kept for history's sake. And even if they had been forced to live here, we don't know whether they were serfs or slaves, or whether there was another reason to reside in these conditions. Remember the Dals – they lived in mud huts, yet they were sophisticated beyond the other peoples' imagination. For all we know, that might be the case here, as well."
The old sorcerer raised his hands in mock defeat. "Alright, Pol, I give up! We don't know why those people preferred to live in serf- or maybe Nadrak-conditions, when obviously better accomodations are available, as those knights back there surely didn't live in a clay-made village – maybe they were just too lazy to build anything better, just like the Nadraks..."
A snort behind them got their attention. A boy had appeared behind them. He wore clothes made out of a rough, unbleached and undyed material. He held a curious-looking rack of pipes in his hands. A few sheep grazed nearby, and next to him sat a large dog, wagging his tail. The boy seemed to be amused by something – his initial noise had sounded much like an unsuccessful attempt to stifle a laugh, and now he stepped slowly toward them, a huge grin on his face.
Polgara knelt on the floor, so her face would be closer to his, when he had walked over to them far enough, and asked in a soft voice: "Hello, boy. What is your name?"
The boy's grin broadened. He opened his mouth to speak – and a number of incomprehensible syllables fell out of it.
Belgarath sighed. "As you suspected, Pol – he doesn't seem to speak our language. What now?"
She shrugged – for the moment, she didn't quite know what to do, either. She got up from her kneeling position – and suddenly looked down, when the boy came closer and tugged on the skirt of her dress. He spoke a few more words and pointed towards the West (at least they thought it was, for the sun would end their excursion across the sky there in a few more hours). Then he rubbed his tummy, obviously trying to explain something to them.
Belgarath's daughter nodded to the boy with a smile and then said: "I believe we just have been invited for dinner – and I believe it would be a good idea to follow the invitation. After all, we have no supplies, and the sun will go down soon."
He nodded and told the boy: "Lead the way", emphasizing the meaning of his words with a hand gesture.
This chapter brought to you by li'l Urdy, Franziskaner Wheat Beer (even in the US, you just have to know where to search ;-) ) and Sonata Arctica!
Watch out for more (in fact, I might even write some more tonight, after dealing with my eMail...) and please review!