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iPink -> RE: Upon Atlas (7/3/2011 6:49:26)
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Volume 1.1
The leaves blew upon the trees. The branches creaked in their cathedral formations above. The tall, empty buildings towered, and the small clearing was silent. The concrete remnants of a former civilization stood as sentinels in the quiet forest. To some, such a statement was an eerie glorification of a forsaken society that had destroyed itself. To others, it was an understated nod to the beauty of all that remained of the Before.
The travelers, however, were not paying attention to the ancient edifices: they could only focus on moving as quickly as possible through the forest. It was a dangerous place at night, they were told. The darkness fostered all sorts of hazards, and children around and above the forest were constantly told of the strange wisps that would blow through the wind, immediately killing any who inhaled them. The Imps, as they were called, were only released at night, but they were only the greatest of the forest’s perils.
Gale attempted to lead the others around these perils. He was the only one familiar with the forest; having grown up in Haven, he had played among the trees every day as a child. The others were all from elsewhere. By some twist of fate, they were all going the same way: to the port of Pandora and then across the ocean, away from the war – away from Atlas. Pandora was not a generally popular choice among refugees. It was small, dirty, and difficult to access. But it was also largely ignored. Unlike other ports, Pandora was unmonitored (and subsequently unprotected) by the Kingdoms, and it didn’t matter who you happened to be in Pandora. That is, so long as you had the money.
But Gale and his companions were still far from their destination. The forest, unnamed and mostly forgotten, was only one of the many obstacles, and some of the party had already traveled hundreds of miles. Small Lea had originally come with her mother, but was forced to continue on after the woman was taken by the Inquisitors. Lynn was from the North, and she never spoke. Edgar, from his garb, was from the farthest islands of the East, though he never told of his home. And Amilie was the most mysterious of all: she had simply appeared out of one of the strange buildings of Before one day, and she had been with them ever since. None of them were friends. They were survivors.
Gale lifted his staff slightly as he heard a rustle from among some ferns to the right. As a small butterfly slipped out of the brush he relaxed. The butterflies always made him feel better. They made him think of what it must have been like Before – those in Haven had all heard the stories of the flying machines with the wings that moved like butterflies. There were even rumors that there were still some left that the Kingdoms had yet to destroy. But Gale didn’t believe it. What hadn’t the Kingdoms destroyed?
Gale was not lost in thought for long. Despite his best efforts to lead them through the forest, Lea’s small legs and Edgar’s slow, sleepy pace had allowed the dusk to close in upon them. Realizing that they had to find shelter and that they were far from any of the designated (and illegal) refugee safe houses, Gale led the group into one of the buildings of Before. This was one of the tall ones (designated a “Manor” by the Kingdoms Historical Advisor) and the stairs were still fully intact. Few of the Manors still had climbable flights of stairs, and a first try was almost lucky – if Gale believed in luck.
By the time the refugees reached the top of the Manor, night had set in. It was the dark of the moon tonight, but Amilie quickly lit a candle with her hand and Gale waved his staff into brightness. Doubt flickered across Gale’s face as he thought once more of the impending journey; for the thousandth time he pondered the lack of magic outside Atlas. Something about this land made it special. Once he left it behind, Gale also left behind his strange, beautiful power. Nevertheless, there was no choice. If he stayed he would die. Gale had been through too much to give up life now.
Unable to sleep, the young mage got to his feet and began looking around. The rooms were in surprisingly good condition, he found, although they were also empty. Anything from Before had either been taken to study or destroyed. The Kingdoms simply controlled history.
But Gale also noticed strange things that should not be. Recent footprints marked the dust. Repairs had been made in unusual places – the Kingdoms would never authorize such restorative work. Just as he began to piece together that something was wrong, he heard a scream. But even worse was its sudden cessation – and the silence that followed.
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