The inhabitants of the desert settlement surrounded them; reaching for their clothes, stroking their hair, tugging at their hands, all as they chattered in a staccato, high-pitched language. A finger prodded Silus painfully in his side and he slapped the hand away, only for another to tug at his shirt. It wasn’t that these people were being aggressive — that much was obvious from their expressions of happy curiosity — they just hadn’t seen folk quite like the ragged crew of the Llothriall before.
There was a commotion towards the back of the tumult and a metal staff rose above the heads of the crowd, sweeping from side to side as it approached. A path was cleared. The man wielding the staff was a little taller than most, and his white hair was cropped close to his scalp. Like those that surrounded him, his skin was pale and flawless, although there was something about his eyes that was disconcerting, and when he came to the head of the crowd Silus realised what it was: the man’s pupils were silver.
The crowd fell silent as the silver-eyed man looked at the crew, holding the staff out to each in turn. Dunsany looked ready to meet it with his sword, but a glance from Silus told him to be calm.
“We mean no harm,” Silus said, stepping forwards. “We find ourselves somewhat lost and were hoping you could help.”
As Silus spoke the man adjusted the rings running down the middle of the staff, each one inscribed with a symbol.
“What is this place called?” Silus persisted. “Are you” — another ring clicked into place — “native to this-”
The staff began to hum.
“I apologise for the delay,” the man said. “Though your words are not entirely unknown, it took me a time to configure the correct combination. Please, follow.”
The man turned and started to head towards the centre of the settlement. Silus stared after him for a moment before following, the rest of the crew following him hesitantly.
As they made their way through the crowd, Silus noticed the girl who had led them to this place looking at them with a kind of awe. She held up her pet and smiled, and he waved at her. She bashfully ducked back into the crowd and darted away.
Silus was grateful for the respite from the sun when they stepped into the shadows cast by the settlement’s houses. The dwellings that surrounded them seemed to have been sculpted from the sand on which they sat. A few rose a foot or so higher than their neighbours, and a few had domed rather than flat roofs, but otherwise they were very similar. However, rising above them all, Silus could just see the summit of something remarkable.
At first it was just a glimpse of twisted spires, the brilliant white stone reflecting the sunlight like mother-of-pearl, and reminding Silus of the shells he used to find scattered across the beaches of Nurn. As they approached the centre of the settlement, the sand structures began to dwindle in number and soon they could see through to the astonishing heart of this place.
“What is that?” Katya said. “A palace?”
And it was regal and magnificent, but it was like no palace Silus had ever seen, easily rivalling anything even the celebrated architects of Miramas could have dreamed into being. It was impossibly delicate, looking as though a strong wind would shatter the edifice in a moment, but there was an inner strength there; a sense of great power contained. The sun, pouring through the fine webs and arches of the structure, splintered into a thousand rainbows, throwing a beautiful prismatic spray towards them. The sand beneath their feet gave way to glass as they neared the structure, blackened and blistered, as though whatever force had placed this wondrous building here had produced a ferocious heat. Silus thought that he could detect a low rumbling sensation through the soles of his boots, yet the structure before them emitted no sound. Indeed, he considered, for the hub of such a substantial settlement, it was curiously quiet.
There appeared to be no obvious entrance to the structure — no doorway marred the perfection of the stone, no archways led within — yet, as they approached, the silver-eyed man did not falter in his step and passed right through the wall before them.
The crew were brought up short and Silus was just reaching out to touch the stone when the man reappeared.
“My apologies. Please, it is perfectly safe to follow.”
As they passed through the wall, they experienced a curious sensation, as though the grime of the desert had been removed from their bodies and they now wore freshly laundered clothes.
“It is necessary that we keep the environment onboard sterile,” said their guide. “If you will please follow me, I shall introduce you to the head of the council.”
From the outside, the structure had appeared to be the epitome of silent, graceful beauty. By contrast, the interior was a scene of controlled chaos.
The corridor in which they stood was thronged with people, all hurriedly going about their business. Most of them were similar in appearance to those who had crowded around them earlier, but some shared similar features with the man with the silver eyes. No, Silus realised, not just similar; they were identical.
The rumble that Silus had felt outside was here a deep, bass roar. He could barely hear himself think. He lost count of the number of steps they climbed, the number of echoing chasms they crossed by delicate crystalline bridges, before they came at last to what he could safely say was an actual door. The first they seen since entering the strange edifice.
The door was opened by another silver-eyed man, who nodded at his fellow, before receiving the staff from him and ushering the visitors within.
Here, finally, was quiet. Silus’s ears buzzed with the battering they had received on their journey, and it took him a few moments to realise that the silver-eyed man was addressing them.
“-having trouble with our engines, hence the noise. Master Illiun will be with us shortly. Here he is now.”
The man who entered the room was dark-haired and short. Unlike the other members of his tribe, his skin was marred by lines and creases, and there was a look of intense worry in his eyes. He took the staff from the silver-eyed man before dismissing him, and gestured to the chairs that surrounded the table in the centre of the room.
“Please sit,” he said, seating himself. “We had thought this planet uninhabited. I’m only sorry that you have encountered us at such an inopportune time. A few days ago, while preparing the ship for departure, we experienced massive engine failure, hence the chaos you have witnessed.”
“This, this… is a ship?” Dunsany said.
“Of course, I forget, our level of technology may seem to you somewhat confounding. Had we known of your presence we would have revealed ourselves more gradually. I’m only grateful that our translation device” — he gestured to the staff- “enables us to communicate. Clearly your language is not dissimilar to that of other cultures we have encountered.”
“Sorry, but I think that you have misunderstood the situation,” Katya said. “We’re not actually from here, wherever here is. We were brought to this place by sorcery and, in the process, our ship was destroyed.”
“I wonder,” Kelos said, “is it possible that whatever magic powers your ship is responsible for the Llothriall being brought to this place? After all, the failure of your… engine does seem to somewhat coincide with our arrival.”
“Magic?” Master Illiun said. “I’m sorry, but that word is unfamiliar to me.”
“You know, magic? Sorcery?”
Illiun shook his head.
“Perhaps I can demonstrate?” Kelos held out his hand, gesturing for the translation staff. Illiun handed it over and the mage placed it on the table before him. “Just something simple, to help you understand.”
Kelos held his hands out above the staff and closed his eyes. Soon, a look of pained concentration creased his brow. His hands formed into claws, trembling as he willed the staff into them. Finally, letting out an explosive breath, he opened his eyes.
“I… I don’t understand. It is the most base sorcery, it should be simple. I must be more tired than I realised.”
He handed the staff back to Illiun.
“There’s no need to apologise, I assure you,” he said. “The situation you find yourselves in must be very distressing. Where exactly do you call home?”
“Twilight,” Dunsany said. “And what is this place called?”
“We haven’t yet given the planet a designation,” Illiun said.
“I’m sorry, let’s just slow down for a moment,” Katya said. “I’m finding this hard to grasp. You, Illiun… your people are from another world?”
“Ah, yes, sorry. I sometimes take for granted a certain level of knowledge. At night, when you look up, what do you see?”
Katya couldn’t help but feel that she was being patronised, but she went along with it. “Stars.”
“Right, and some of those stars support habitable planets, just as the sun of your own world supports life. We have been travelling from world to world for many, many years.”
“I had heard that there were other worlds, out in the void,” Kelos said, “but I hadn’t really believed.”
“Oh, believe, my friend. There are many wonders, out there.” Illiun said. “Alas, we cannot stay on this planet for much longer. The entity is still in pursuit and it’s vital that we repair our engines.”
“Entity?” Bestion said. “What is that?”
“A determined enemy, one we have been fleeing for generations. Yet no matter how far we travel, it still finds us. Coming here, we hoped that we had finally escaped it. However, in the last few days our sensors detected the entity’s approach once again. We prepared the ship for departure, only for our engines to fail. There are minerals on this planet that can help us repair them, but we’re going to have to recover them quickly.”
“We’ll help you,” Silus said. He turned to his companions, who were looking at him in stunned silence. “What? What else are we going to do? The Llothriall is no more, we’re far from home, and something big and angry is heading our way. I say that leaves us with little choice; as far as I can see, Illiun and his people offer us the best hope of survival and of finding our way back to Twilight.”
“As we are new to this planet ourselves, we are still unsure as to the nature of the risks that may lie between us and retrieval of the mineral,” Illiun said.
“Trust me,” Silus said. “We’re quite used to risks.”
He squeezed Katya’s hand and she smiled at him, but there was a deep weariness in her eyes. On her knee, Zac suddenly pointed at his father before letting out a delighted squeal and clapping his hands.
“At least one of us isn’t feeling this overwhelming sense of impending doom,” Katya said, kissing the top of her son’s head.
“Of course,” Illiun said. “Any help that you can give us will be more than gratefully received. Certainly my people are delighted to have you amongst us. Tonight you will avail yourselves of our hospitality. I will provide you with a communication staff in order that you will be able to converse. Come the morning we will have a decision on how to proceed.”
The door opened and one of the silver-eyed men entered. “Please see to it that our guests are well looked after,” Illiun told him.
As they left the ship and headed back into the settlement, Silus looked up at the clear blue sky, wondering what manner of threat it was that this entity posed, and quite how they would escape it when the time came.
Back in the settlement proper, they were guided to one of the larger sand-dwellings, there to be greeted by a familiar face.
The girl grinned as she pushed aside the curtain covering the doorway, her pet scampering past her and weaving itself between their legs, emitting a discordant whine that sounded like no dog they had ever heard.
“Mummy and Daddy said that the strangers were coming,” she said.
Not wanting to be referred to as ‘the strangers’ for the rest of the evening, the crew introduced themselves and ascertained that the girl was called Hannah, which was also the name of her pet.
Once inside, they were introduced to Hannah’s parents — Rosalind and Shalim — who were so similar in appearance that they could have been brother and sister, though no one chose to comment, not wanting to jeopardise the hospitality of their hosts.
Within, the sand house was ordered and comfortable. The structure consisted of five rooms: a kitchen, a living area, two sleeping areas and a latrine. Hannah and her parents shared one of the bedrooms, along with the pet, while the remaining bedroom had been given over to the guests.
Once they were settled, the family asked them to join them for a meal and they sat in the living area, watching as Rosalind roasted root vegetables amongst hot coals.
For a while there was silence, none of the crew really knowing how to make conversation with these people, even with the aid of the translation staff; not that Hannah’s parents were particularly chatty. After being mobbed earlier that day, Silus had expected their hosts to show a little more curiosity.
“Hannah,” Bestion finally said. “Where did your pet come from? I haven’t seen any other animals in the settlement.”
“Hannah comes from another world. The people on the ship wanted her once, but the council decided they had no use for her. Mummy and Daddy said that I could keep her, but I don’t think that this place likes her very much.”
“And have you seen many worlds?”
“Lots and lots. Though not as many as Mummy and Daddy.”
“How long have you been on this world?”
“Not long,” Shalim said, joining the conversation. “But there is nothing here for us and soon we will be leaving.”
“Ah, yes,” Bestion said. “That would be because of the entity, wouldn’t it?”
Shalim returned to staring at the glowing coals.
“What sort of world were you born on?” Silus asked.
“Shalim and I were born on the ship,” Rosalind said. “Hannah was born on an ocean planet. We were happy for a while, there, before we had to move on.”
Zac began to struggle on Katya’s lap and she let him down onto the floor, where Hannah showed him a simple game with coloured pebbles. They became utterly absorbed in their play, paying not the least attention to the adult conversation going on around them.
“What about you?” Shalim said. “How did you come to this world? We didn’t see your ship land.”
With occasional interjections from Dunsany and Kelos, Silus told their story, including everything from stealing the Llothriall, to the defeat of the Chadassa, to arriving in the desert on a broken boat.
“It seems to me,” Shalim said, “that your homeworld isn’t a place to which you would want to return.”
“There are things there worth fighting for,” Kelos said. “And it is our home.”
“Don’t you ever get tired of running, Shalim?” Silus said.
“Indeed, but we hope that one day we will have run far enough.”
“I wish I had witnessed some of the sights you’ve seen out there,” Kelos said. “Just think: if we found the right world, we wouldn’t have to return to Twilight. No more Final Faith on our backs. We could start afresh. We don’t have to go home.”
As they talked, the sunset that had been edging into the room faded and then finally died. A sharp wind picked up, howling against the house, although inside they felt not the slightest breeze.
Katya hadn’t even realised that Zac had left them until he tottered back into the room, holding Hannah’s hand.
“Where have you been, wee man?” she said. “Playing with Hannah? Thank you for keeping him entertained, by the way. Are you hungry, Zac?”
“The stars are falling,” he said.
“What’s that, sweetie?”
“Come, see.”
As Katya and Silus got to their feet, Silus thought that he heard a low, deep thud as though something heavy had fallen to the floor in another room.
In the guest room they found Zac and Hannah kneeling on one of the beds, looking out of the window, their faces intermittently illuminated by brilliant flashes of light.
“Dunsany, Kelos… everyone! ” Katya said. “You may want to come and see this.”
Zac had been right; far out in the desert, stars were falling to earth. Most fell beyond the horizon, but a few landed closer to the settlement, throwing up huge plumes of glowing sand.
“My gods!” Dunsany said. “I’ve seen shooting stars before, but nothing like this.”
“Shouldn’t we be heading for the ship?” Kelos said. “I mean, if one of those things hit us…”
“We are quite safe,” Shalim said. “The ship will protect us and the bombardment will soon be over.”
And indeed it was. Silus blinked away the purple blotches swimming across his vision. Where the stars had come down, the sand glowed rose-red.
“It’s beautiful,” Kelos said.
To the mage, it may have been a wondrous sight, but as Silus watched the glowing sand darken, he’d never felt further from home.