Here chapter 28 for you – sorry it takes so long, but it always takes some time now to work up the creative energy to work on „Stranded"– But the end is near!
05.09.2005: Answers to reviews removed. See chapter 3 for details.
Current Music: Janne Da Arc – "Ueta Taiyou". Only one song? YES! I can't get through my day without listening to it at least 5 times since I found it! Check it out!
DISCLAIMER: Worlds and characters belong to David Eddings. I do not make money with this fic.
CHAPTER 28
The silence lasted for a good five minutes; nobody dared to speak, as if they were unsure what would happen if the quiet was pierced by words. Then, finally, a groan came from the floor: Sparhawk had awakened from his short bout of unconsciousness and looked around. Ulath and Tynian helped him get up. Belgarath finally managed to turn his gaze away from the humming focus point, where the energy of their world glimmered brightly in a circular area on the floor. He turned around to Aphrael and Dorgatan.
"Can we just step into... that and go home?" he asked.
Dorgatan did not answer immediately, but went over to the gleaming circle, held his hand into it and closed his eyes. Thus, he stood there for a while, without saying anything, without moving. Then, his hand pulled back, his eyes opened.
"I am afraid not", he finally replied. "Zoltach's destruction did not stop the energy flow; it is still being channeled to this very room. Furthermore, what you see in front of you is the real focus point, not one of the fakes which granted the energy passage to the world it came from."
He exchanged a look with Aphrael.
"I don't suppose you know about interdimensional travel, and the relative position of your world in the multiverse?"
The blank stare he got for an answer got him to shake his head.
"I guess not. Well, we have a little problem here. Aphrael and I can't reverse the energy flow it we cannot determine the destination – and while we feel it coming into our realm from yours, we cannot pinpoint the relative position of it by simply tracing it back to its origin, because we can't permeate the barrier between the different universes. The Elder Gods can, to a certain degree, but we Younger Gods never quite managed – that is why Zoltach could use Cthuchik's body, the certain spin of the molecules he was made of, to pinpoint the relative location of his world, while the two of us alone don't have enough power to do so. It has something to do with a thing called Uncertainty Principle – we need to temporarily shut off a law of nature to do what we need to do."
He looked at Aphrael.
"Well, cousin, are you up for a family meeting?"
The Child Goddess sighed.
"Not really, but do we have any choice? We need to work together to send back the energy and reseal the barrier. Let us do this."
She grasped Dorgatan's hand and began to sing. Her voice was unlike anything Belgarath and Polgara had ever heard before – part clear child's soprano, part sweet breath through a wooden flute, sometimes both, sometimes neither, but something inexplicable, yet beautiful. Then, Dorgatan joined in with a strong tenor. The air around them began to glimmer like a mirage, and slowly, row after row after row of people began to appear around them, until it seemed that they could never all fit into this room. Yet they kept coming, kept appearing, until the whole pantheon of Younger Gods had appeared, stunning the mortals with their mere presence.
Aphrael began to speak with them in the tongue which encompassed all of the human languages, but yet none of them quite understood. It did not take her long to explain to her family what it was they had to do. Finally, silence fell again. And then...
A choir of beatific voices began to resound from the dark walls, soft, caressing the ear at first. The voices wove an image of the two worlds and everything in them, gradually increasing in volume until finally, the mortals among them thought they would go deaf, and yet thought to themselves that it was worth it, if this vast song was the last thing they would remember hearing henceforth. But at the point where the sheer force of the song threatened to become unbearable, the voices fell to a hum, a steady background noise which repeated the notes of the song over and over again.
The focus point had changed color. From icy blue, it had turned into a deep lavender. Dorgatan and Aphrael stopped singing, stepped over to their mortal friends, most of which smiled, yet had tears in their eyes.
"It is done," Aphrael said to Belgarath and Polgara. "The worlds are completely separated again, each alone with its own energy. This gateway is all that is left. Say your goodbyes now, for we will not see each other again."
The two disciples of Aldur nodded solemnly and turned towards their friends of many weeks, with whom they had been through many dangers and trials.
Polgara hugged Sephrenia and Vanion, shook everybody else's hand and then turned towards Sir Ulath.
"So, Ulath, whose turn is it to cook today?" she asked with a grin.
Ulath grinned right back at her. "Well, I guess it is mine – if the Younger Gods don't consent to keep the gateway open until you sent us rations from the other side, that is."
Meanwhile, Belgarath taked to Dorgatan.
"Son... well, I shouldn't call you that, I guess, you're most likely older than me, aren't you?... Anyway, please tell Galtan our thanks for letting us use his horses when you return to your village. And please tell Makor that he will still be missed in our world, even though I will rest easier now that I know that he is fine, after all. And there is one other thing... would you consider doing me a favor? Find out if another former disciple of Aldur named Sambar still lives, and help them reforge their friendship. It would set my mind at rest."
The young, handsome Styric Messenger God smiled at the old sorcerer.
"Consider it done, my friend. We have much to thank you for, and that will be a good way to repay you."
He looked over to the portal.
"You should go now. We will have to close the gate up soon, otherwise the part of the barrier we mended will rip open again."
A few moments later, Belgarath and Polgara stood in front of the gate. Dark blue, unfelt flames licked at their ankles. They gave the remainder of the group a last wave before they stepped into the circle – and fell, spinning, turning upside down, the last sound in their ears before every sensation ceased to be the chorus of the song of the Younger Gods...
There we go! Two more chapters, where everyone gets home! Please review!