Apologies to mobile users
Part I - The First Life
Part II - The Non-Life
Part III - The Second Life
And then came the day I woke up on a bright, sunny beach. All the feeling returned in a painful rush. The sun hurt, the sand hurt, moving hurt, and the noise of the waves was agony.
My clothes were in shreds. The Void had done awful things to my skin, and worse things to my hair, and I didn't recognize myself the first time I saw myself in the mirror. My muscles didn't want to work, and I kept trying to count my fingers and toes because I kept coming up with a different number. And try as I might, my elfsong was gone. I had been silenced.
Worst of all, I was alone. Lyran elves never went anywhere alone. We needed someone else to keep our shared aura functioning, preferably three or four others, or we became seriously ill, mentally and physically. There were whole songs equating being alone to drowning.
I promptly panicked, of course. There was just too much of everything all at once, and I couldn't handle it. To add to my woes, fate decreed that an actual human wizard came to investigate the noise.
Back home, there were several different ways to do magic. We elves, for example, sang it. The words weren’t important, but the melodies and harmonies were, as well as the number of participants. Wizards were the ones who relied on their Words to activate their carefully crafted spells. One well prepared wizard won in a magic fight against elves every time, solely based on the amount of time it took to cast.
So when I heard someone yelling, “Who’s out there? I’m a wizard, you know!” I braced myself for the worst.
Photo Credit:
Part IV - Life's A Beach
Fortunately, this particular wizard was used to foreign stuff falling from the sky to land on his beach, and when he found me and figured out what had happened, merely lamented that he didn’t find elf women more often.
It turned out he was a former wizard. Zynthar the Great, to be exact. Retired, but will probably go back to wizarding if properly motivated. He was not then properly motivated, so I was safe.
He was also extraordinarily helpful. He got me calmed down, cleaned up, and fed, chatting merrily all the while about nonsense. He talked a good long while about currents and forks in space, and how everything lined up so it sometimes brought junk down to the surface of this world, and he had gotten prime scavenger space.
He talked so long and so cheerfully that I began to wonder if I had misunderstood how a wizard used the Word, and he was simply going to talk me to death.
Eventually he got to the information I was more interested in - where I was, and whether I could get back home from there. The Space Fork was a one way trip, unfortunately. If I wanted to get home, I would have to find another route. However, he was happy to help me navigate what was about to become my second life.
I had lost my elfsong, but I did not succumb to the fate that befell most solitary elves. The things that had affected me back home no longer did here. I could go out in the sun whenever I liked. I was no longer allergic to iron. Perhaps the Void had broken that bond cleanly? I didn’t know.
It ultimately didn’t matter, because here, I had access to even more magic than I’d ever been able to produce before, even with others. I could fly! I could walk off the roofs of tall buildings and land without a scratch. I could carry countless amounts of items in a single inventory bag, and change my clothes in a flash. I could change my looks, too, and I soon did.
I’ve been here fifteen years now, and though I’ve researched, I have no idea where home is, or how to get there. I built myself a comfortable little house, and got involved in other things. I made friends. Looking no longer seemed important, because now I was home.
In fact, things were going extremely well for me . . . until the day another elf from Lyramir arrived.
Part V - A Third Life
I self consciously reached up to fix my hair, but it was still mostly pinned in place. "What? Nothing?”
Part VI - The Life I Missed
Turns out he was dumb enough, but he was smarter about it. He found me again the next night, at my favorite pub. This time, he kept a respectful distance and waited for me to respond to his presence.
“If you can be civil, you can sit down,” I told him, pointing at the stool next to me. “We won’t talk about my looks or that stick up your ass.”
He took a wary step closer. “I am unarmed,” he informed me sternly. “There is no stick, anywhere.”
I sighed. “What are you doing here?”
“I represent a special team assembled by The Tanrys Court," he began, as if carefully reciting a memorized passage. "We seek the lost colonies of Lyramir. We sensed elfsong in this world, and I came down to investigate.”
Lost colonies? "MY elfsong? No, that’s impossible, it’s gone. I’ve been silenced.”
“Clearly not, since I found you. I have not yet located the others.”
“There are none, not that I’ve found, and I've looked.”
“You’re alone? But how? How did you end up in this place, separated from the others?”
I shrugged. “Something exploded, and I got blown off the ship, and apparently off the world entirely. I was in and out of Torpor in the Void until I unintentionally landed here about fifteen years ago. You’re the first Lyran I’ve met since - well, whatever happened in 7261. What happened, anyway?”
He blinked at me a few times as he processed my story. “You’ve only been here fifteen years? How does the calendar here compare to ours?”
“It’s maybe five days off,” I estimated. “Why?”
He stared silently at me for far too long, clearly dreading something, and then turned to Joe the Bartender. “Give her another of those, or stronger. She’s going to need it.”
And then he told me I’d been floating in the Void for over three hundred years.
-----
Joe had my back, and whatever he poured for me was appropriate for the news.
Three hundred years, out in the dark. I shuddered. I'd tried hard to forget the whole thing, but it haunted my dreams.
“It’s 7584,” I mumbled, trying to wrap my mind around the current year at home, if there still was a home. “Tell me what happened,” I finally choked out.
“In 7261, The god Lorgan came after Lyra. The damage their battle caused made the world uninhabitable, and wounded Lyra greatly. Many lives were lost, and we were forced to flee. We split into colonies and parted ways.”
“And now you’re trying to find them all again? Why?”
“Lyramir has been restored. Lyra calls her people home.”
“Did my parents survive? My companions? I was the year 7000.” Lyran elves controlled the population by having babies in batches. A dozen or so, every 50 years, raised as a group so they’d have a strong bond and similar life experiences.
“We’ll have to review the records we have available on the ship. What is your name?”
It had been so long since I’d used it I couldn’t remember for a moment. “Wilrhyn. I’m Auglathla.” It sounded strange in my ears. “Aggi. And you? I don't know you.”
“Alpinia. Rowan. You would not have met me, then, I was born in the year 7250.”
He’d been a mere toddler when Lorgan struck. I recalled the extravagant celebrations that birth year, which meant that he was a companion to a member of the royal family. He probably expected the same amount of respect and obedience. Figures.
“And you sailed here? On a ship?”
“In a way. We are traveling through the Void in a great flying ‘ship’ made by humans. It’s steel,” he volunteered, half in warning. “Not a pleasant way for us to travel, but there are some comforts aboard. I advise you to pack comfortable clothing, blankets, and as much fresh fruit as you can.”
“Wait, are you expecting me to leave with you?”
“Yes, Lyra wants you to come home.”
“Do you think I’m going to drop everything and go off with a complete stranger?”
“We are not strangers. We are Lyran, one soul.”
He said it with the utmost sincerity. I tried not to roll my eyes. “But I’ve got a whole life here! You can’t just expect me to abandon everything and everyone at someone else’s whim.”
“Lyra calls her people home.”
“You were looking for whole colonies, not me.”
“Lyra calls her people home.”
“Are you going to chant that until I get up and go off with you?”
“Don’t you want to be back where you belong? Among your own?”
“I’ve been silenced. I’ll never fit back in.” Not that I'd ever quite fit in to begin with.
“There was enough to find you from the Void. You can be restored.”
“On a spaceship?” How did he even have one? That kind of technology didn’t exist in our worlds.
“A minor inconvenience, but it seems quite safe.”
Seems? “Through the Void?” I asked in a smaller voice.
“Ah, I understand now. You won’t be alone, not this time,” he said gently.
I shook my head. “No thank you. I’ve made a new life here. I have good friends. I’m happy here.”
“You must -”
“I mustn’t do anything! Now go on back to your ship and your mission. I’m sorry you came down here for nothing.”
He was getting flustered now, he must have reached the end of his memorized lines. “My mission is -”
“- Probably to tell people it’s safe to come home if they want, not to drag them back kicking and screaming. What are you going to do if a whole colony says ‘no, we’re good here?’ Start a war?”
“You cannot ignore your Maker! Lyra calls -”
“No!” I slapped my hands down on the bar and hopped off the barstool. He backed away, assuming a fighting stance.
“Take it outside!” Joe ordered.
“I’ve had enough. I’m going home,” I told him, and then turned on Rowan, who still had his hands up defensively. “MY home. Now leave me alone.”
Once again, I ran.
Photo Credits
Head: Lelutka - Skyler
Body: Belleza - Jake
Skin: CCI - Elven Male
Hair: No.Match - No_Karma
Clothing: FATEplay - Feredir - Quagmire
Aggi:
Head: Lelutka - Raven
Skin: The Skinnery - Eve
Blouse: Blueberry - Reachless Dress & Top
Part VII - The Sweet Life
Once safely home, I panicked. A lot. Can you blame me? My house was filled with reminders that I had wanted to go home, or at least know where home was. The thought of going back into the Void, though, even inside a ship this time, filled me with stomach churning, weak-kneed dread. I couldn’t do it. No way. I couldn’t even sleep in the dark. Nor did I want to give up my freedom. In Lyramir, your life was assigned to you, loosely based on both where your natural talents lay and what jobs needed more people doing them. Hate it? Want to try something new? Want other friends? Too bad, this is your place in life. No, I was not going back.
I hid out at home for a few days, but as each day passed with no further contact, the panic eased. This was my world, not his. He, they, couldn’t hurt me, nor prevent my teleporting, so why was I hiding?
Perhaps he’d already gone?
I ventured back out, my head high, my eyes on the people map, and my finger near the home button.
Phoebe at the ice cream parlor was pleased to see me. “Where have you BEEN? Someone came in yesterday and won the Ice Cream Bucket Challenge!”
She waved her hand at the side wall, where my picture was one of three on it, posing proudly with a spoon and an empty, milk coated and chocolate streaked bucket.
Don’t look at me like that. It was only about 10 scoops of chocolate and vanilla. And some cookies. And some fruit. And some whipped cream. I think there was caramel drizzle. And sprinkles, of course.
There was a reason they knew me by name here.
“You’re not going to take my photo down, are you? Is there an extra prize if I order another?”
“He wouldn’t let us take one. Shame, too, he would have looked great on our wall. What is it with elves and ice cream? It’s like you can’t get enough!”
My sweet tooth shriveled up. “A blonde elf? Kind of old fashioned?”
“Big blue eyes,” she added dreamily. “Scrawny like you. Where do you put it all?” She tilted her head thoughtfully. “He even trilled his R’s the same way. Friend of yours?”
“I do not trill -” I stopped short as she laughed at me. “Not a friend, but from the same place. Did he say anything?”
“Not much. He certainly didn’t like the song and dance routine when we brought out the bucket. You'll have to ask Jessie.”
Jessie looked up from where she knelt behind the counter, restocking napkins. “Mr. Tall, Pale, and Surly? Did you send him in? Was he a prank? Most people come in with friends and make a big deal out of the bucket, but he was alone and ate like it was a boring chore he had to get through.”
“Not me. I’m trying to stay away from him!”
“Uh oh. He didn’t mention you, and we even pointed out your picture. He did ask about a repairman, or engineer of some sort. I didn’t know anyone, but I showed him how to search for one.”
He was still here, damn it. And edging in on my ice cream shop!
Fine. I was just going to have to go find him and encourage him to be on his way.
But first I ordered a crumbled cookie milkshake.
Photo Credits
Location: Bella Pointe, The Pink Flamingo Diner
Aggi
Head: Lelutka - Raven
Skin: The Skinnery - Eve
Hair: Magika - Midnight
Shirt: DD - Lucy T-Shirt
Pants: Blueberry - Laine - Zipped Cutiebootie
Bucket - Custom Made
Location: Bella Pointe - The Pink Flamingo Diner
Winner photo:
Hair: Wings - EF0229
Shirt: Bold Llama - Pirate Tees (it says 'Pirate Redhead - Argh!'
Phoebe
Head: Genus - Strong
Uniform: Tres Blah - Summer Fete Apron - Black
Hair :Alli & Ali - Paninka Hair
Skin: Pink Fuel - Renee - Pure
Jessie (blonde)
Head: Lelutka - Raven
Uniform: Tres Blah - Summer Fete Apron - Black
Hair: Alli & Ali - Paninka Hair combined with A&A Fillipa Hair Spring Colors
Skin: Gloom - Finlay Skin
Makeup: Stunner Originals - Mix HD EvoX/Evo Lady
Part VIII - A Minor Problem
Rowan was looking for a repairman, so something must be wrong with his ship. I could trace him that way, maybe.
Or else, his ‘mission,’ which was probably going to turn into a really interesting search for him. A few places I had wandered into that advertised themselves as elven I had left again very quickly. Zynthar eventually explained role playing, but it had been too real for my taste, and I saw too many other things I wanted to learn about. I wanted to role play as a human. Humans had roller coasters and frosting.
He would end up in some of those places. And weirdly enough, ‘Elves in Space’ was an actual theme. Which meant he was bound to turn up at The Citadel, for one reason or another.
I did not want to go to The Citadel. It floated in a glass ball in a dark, starry sky, and the memory was too much for me. I had never made it very far inside before. I hurried in from the landing point, keeping close to the walls and trying not to look too far up.
I was right, though, and he had found the place, too. It took me a moment to recognize him, because he had tied up his hair, changed out of his traditional elven uniform, and was wearing some high tech looking pants and a plain, modern work shirt.
Interesting. The traditional uniform, his accent, and his old fashioned talk made me assume he was the traditional sort, unyielding to change, but clearly he knew how to blend in AND was willing to do so. Perhaps he could be reasoned with after all.
“Hey!” I yelled, and bravely dashed across the mall. "Hey wait! Stop!"
He spun around as I hurried up behind him, looking alarmed. Holding up his hands placatingly and backing away from me, he said, "I am not following you. You were very clear about your desires when we last met, and I will respect them. I am not following you."
Damn it, he did roll his Rs. "Why are you still here? I told you, there are no other Lyrans. Give up! Move on!”
“I will depart as soon as I can. I have no intention of causing you further distress. I swear to you, I will leave you in peace.” He dipped his head politely at me and continued edging backward.
I’d been freaking out for no reason. I could go back to my normal routine without worrying about religious kidnappings. Part of me was relieved as he turned to walk away, but the other part had been a fool once, and was about to be a fool again. I followed him.
"Did you break the ship?" I guessed.
"The shuttle," he reluctantly admitted. "A minor difficulty."
"So not the whole ship? Can't they beam you up or something?"
"I - I don't understand what you asked?”
I tried again, surprised by how much my vocabulary had changed during my time here. “Is there another way for you to get back to the ship?”
He shook his head. “A shuttle is the only way between the surface and The Voice of Lyra."
I snorted at the ship’s name. "Can’t they send another?"
"The reports indicate that the problem may be atmospheric in nature. We cannot risk damaging another shuttle. I am attempting to find a solution among experts here. It is my problem, and I do not intend to make it yours. Perhaps it would be best if you left now,” he added in a low voice. “This is not the friendliest location.”
I glanced in the direction he nodded his head in, and saw several people gathered. They weren't paying attention to us, but they were all geared up for battle. “Ah, yeah. Just tell them you’re OOC, they should leave you alone.”
“Oh Oh Sea?”
“Out of character. This is a place where people come to play games and such. They're acting, like in a play. Unless you tell them otherwise, they think you're acting, too.”
“Odd place,” he muttered. and turned his wary gaze back to me. “I wasn’t given instruction on what to do if you began to follow me.”
“I thought perhaps I might be able to help.”
“I suppose you wish to be rid of my unwanted presence as quickly as possible?”
Ooh, was that snark? “Look, I’m not interested in having an enemy. I just couldn’t - I don’t like being ordered about. If you promise not to be rude or drag me off, then I’m happy to help you if you need it.”
“I have more help than I want as it is, and I do not want to be in your debt. I have already upset you, and need to make amends.”
Ah, yes the elven need for balance. Even I had never managed to shake that. “Hard to do if you’re avoiding me,” I pointed out. “I did ask for information about my family and friends.”
He nodded. “So you did. Will you come with me to the shuttle?”
What the heck. Let’s see how far down the bad idea rabbithole I could fall. “Yes, but no further.”
Part IX - Probably Not Pirates
Rowan led me to a hangar, where a number of high tech looking vehicles were parked. "The engineer wanted to move the shuttle, and told me to use this to find it." He stopped at parking spot #12C, which was empty except for a small wooden square, and gave me a hopeful look.
“It’s a teleporter,” I explained. “It’ll take you right to where they moved it. Just poke it, and you'll arrive in the right spot. Here, I'll show you."
I arrived in a completely different area, fortunately one that had sunshine. A handful of men and two women stood on a black tarmac painted up like a helipad, and were surrounding a vehicle that looked like a giant steel egg on its side, one of those fancy ones with all the decor. They had taken panels off one section and were peering curiously inside, taking pictures and making notes and chatting excitedly.
Rowan arrived directly behind me. I jumped to one side to avoid being landed on. “Ta da!” I exclaimed cheerfully, as he looked wildly around.
That attracted the attention of the mechanics. “How did you get here?” one asked.
“Another one came down here? We said not to try!” exclaimed a second.
“Mistress Wilrhyn lives here, and has offered her assistance.” Rowan explained, shading his eyes from the sun. “Why are you taking it apart?”
“To see what kind of alterations we can make.”
“It’s wild in there! I’ve never seen connectors like this before. And do you know what this is?”
“No,” he didn’t even bother looking at what the man was pointing at. “Have you found a translation for the manual?”
“ImAMess is working on it.”
Another of the mechanics, sitting on the ground and surrounded by laptops, books and tablets, sighed morosely. “It’s not Klingon,” he said sadly. “But I think this MIGHT be a schematic for that panel.”
This brought everyone over to look at the screen, and I took the opportunity to take a closer look at the ship while they chattered excitedly. It was unlike anything I’d ever seen before. It certainly didn’t look elfmade. It didn’t even feel quite human made, but what did I know about spacecraft?
I climbed up the open gangway and looked around. It looked like any standard sci-fi movie type spacecraft, all hard surfaces and low lighting, save for a thick white woven blanket, carelessly tossed over a long, padded bench built into one wall.
I picked it up, staring at the row of different sized stars woven along one edge. Now this was elfmade. I’d had one like it, but the stars had been different colors.
Sitting on the bench, I rubbed my fingers over one of the stars. My vision blurred, or perhaps cleared, and for a moment, I could see the color. A soft blue.
“Did you understand anything they were saying?”
I jumped. Rowan was standing in the doorway. Hatchway?
“It was all too technical for me, except they can’t get much higher than 4000 meters, which has always been the case for everyone. It’d be a really big deal if they could, you know.”
“So they tell me.” He climbed into the shuttle and sat down in one of the chairs by the big control panel and began pushing buttons.
I moved to see what he was doing, which was typing on a keyboard with painstaking slowness. The alphabet wasn’t one I had ever seen before. “What language is that?”
“Warrit.”
“Huh. I’ve never heard of it.”
“Be grateful. They are dangerous.”
I glanced around, noticing the labels on the various panels were in the same alphabet. “Did you steal this thing?” I teased.
He briefly paused in his typing, but didn’t say anything. That was enough of an answer for me.
“You didn’t!”
“It would be more accurate to call it a war prize.”
I sat down in the other chair, waiting for him to finish his task. “You’re at war?” I asked, as the screen went blank.
“No. Not yet. I cannot tell you much, the information is very confidential. They do not seem to know we exist, and while we would like to keep it that way, we must prepare ourselves for our eventual discovery by them.”
“But you’ve stolen their space ship! They’re going to miss it.”
“The Panatian Military - let's say they salvaged a shipwreck. They wanted to use it to explore these new worlds we don’t have access to, and felt that having an obvious, peaceful mission would get us further.”
“Boldly going where no elf has gone before?" I teased.
He eyeballed me for probably the third time that day. “The vessel’s records reported sightings of a people that sounded very much like Lyran elves at specific coordinates. We are being bold in our efforts, but there should be elves at our destination.”
There was a loud beep, and he reached over and flipped a switch on the crowded panel. A scratchy voice came through the speaker. “Alpinia? It's about time!”
Part X - Voices from the Void
“Good afternoon, Captain Farrell, you are much clearer now," he said politely. "The engineers were able to raise the shuttle to a higher altitude."
"Hmph. Have you been able to do anything?”
“They were asking if The Voice had tractor beams.”
“Had what?”
“Tractor. Beams. I assumed you would know.”
“Wahlford, do you know what he’s saying?”
“No, and I’m not certain the translator does, either. Are you talking about farm equipment?” another male voice in the background asked. "Is this some sort of prank?"
“I don’t know why they call it that. I think it’s like a giant magnet,” I put in. “A force that just . . . sucks you up? A way to pick up something without landing and hauling it aboard yourself? Do you have a feature like that?”
“Check the manual,” Farrell ordered.
“I’m looking, I’m looking.”
“Who is that with you, Alpinia?”
“Wilrhyn is here.”
“What? You contacted her again? Haven’t you caused enough problems already? I told you to stay away until Tillock could get down there and handle everything properly! Gods damn it, Alpinia -”
“Hey, Captain Crankypants, keep your shirt on!” I snapped, as Rowan stiffened uncomfortably. “I contacted him!”
“What, that’s Aggi? Aggi?” A third voice cut in. “Aggi, it’s Milo!”
“Hello, hello, hello!” I chirped, surprised by the newest voice's excitement. The name and the voice were familiar, as weird as they sounded over the com.
He chuckled. “Elo, I can’t believe it! It’s so good to hear your voice! Our hearts were broken for you long ago. I never thought I would speak to you again, and here you are, speaking as brazenly as ever. Are you safe? Are you well? Damn these machines, I want to hold you again! Is she still lovely, Alpinia?”
Rowan’s eyebrows went way up. So did mine. For one of us to display that much emotion was a big deal.
Rowan leaned toward the speaker, eying me warily as I glared at him, daring him to give his opinion. “She looks healthy and . . . in good spirits,” he answered diplomatically.
“Pfah, ignore his petulance. Oh, my poor Blossom, what anguish you must have suffered, all these years alone! Your story will certainly excite the bards! Were there monsters in the Void? Did you visit many other worlds?”
“They’ll get bored really fast. There was an explosion, and then a whole lot of nothing. It was dark. I floated. I slept. Woke up on a beach. People call that a vacation here,” I babbled nervously at the familiar voice from my past. Old memories were popping up left and right, and I was starting to feel overwhelmed.
"I couldn't believe it when Alpinia told us he had met you! I gave him such a scolding about the poor manner in which he handled it."
I was beginning to feel sorry for Rowan. I'd been in this spot too many times myself. "Don’t be so hard on him. I wasn't exactly on my best behavior, either."
Milo laughed. "It always was your style, feint and run! Remember how many times you made Willaris chase you?"
Rowan leaned forward as I grappled futility with the past. “She came out of a long Torpor without assistance. She is fortunate to remember anything.”
“Of course,” he said, sounding a little disappointed. “I’m one of your companions. We grew up together. Do you remember me at all?”
“Yes, I remember you! You were the daring one, always wanting to travel.” I recalled. “Even more so than me.”
“Yes! I never thought it would be quite this far, though.”
“Didn’t you rate for administration? I remember how jealous you got when I went to sea.”
“I worked my way up to Royal Secretary, and turned out to be one of the few willing to keep up with Prince Elorhyn.”
“The prince broke free,” Rowan murmured to me. “He can travel where he pleases, even alone.”
“King Turin sends him on many diplomatic missions, although this one was considered a bit too dangerous. They rated me, though, and now I am serving as Void Ambassador.”
“Congratulations? Wait, King Turin? What happened to King Orion?”
“That is a story for later,” Rowan said quickly. “Milo, will you check the records for Wilrhyn’s family and friends?”
“This has already gone on too long,” Farrell cut in. “We are trying to solve a serious problem here -”
“Captain, this is our first official diplomatic contact! This is why we're out here! We have not spoken in . . . 323 years! You can spare us a few minutes while Wahlford goes through his notes,” Milo snapped imperiously. “Unless you’ve found something already, sir?”
“Not yet!”
“Well then. Aggi, dearest lost Blossom, I do not need to look in the records. It breaks my heart to give you the information you want. Can you bear it?”
“My parents are gone, then?” I guessed.
“We have mourned them - and you - these many years.”
I nodded, even though he couldn’t see me. “Honestly, I’m still amazed anyone survived. What about our companions? You’re not the only survivor, are you?”
“There are four others who thrive still. Lashrael Deerin, Rylla Cantis, Opal Thala, and Pelder Wain. Rylla and Pelder have a son and a daughter together.”
There had once been fifteen of us. I couldn't wrap my brain around it, and instead focused on the other surprise. “Really? They weren’t rated high enough to have multiple.”
“Our losses were so great, many restrictions were lifted. Even then we have struggled to bring our numbers back up. I pulled up our records, you were assigned to the Forthright Swan?”
“Yes.”
“Of the crew of the Swan, only Crewman Lachley survived the Destruction, but - oh, this mention may pain you, Alpinia. He was one of those lost in the attack on the Silken Whisper. Which is also a story for another time.” He sighed. “We have so much yet to learn from each other. Are you sure you won’t -”
“No!” I yelped.
“She has endured all she can of the Void,” Rowan put in. “I do not recommend discussing it further."
“We’ve only just found her, I can’t help but feel like we’re losing her all over again.”
“I promised her we would not press the issue.”
“But her harmony! It might still be pure.”
“Excuse me?”
“Yes, but she is in a delicate state -”
“I am not!”
“- and to stress her further might destroy it completely.”
“We know where she is, we’ll mark her location on the charts,” Farrell chimed in. “And someday someone can come back and follow up. You all have the time, at least.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I suppose I must trust your word on this, Alpinia. You at least know what an interrupted Torpor can do. Are there history books on the shuttle? Give her one of the books. Are there any others you wish to inquire about, Aggi?”
“I - I can’t think any more.”
“Know the Tanrys Court will receive news of your survival with great joy. You may add ‘Survivor of the Destruction’ to your name, and, oh, you will certainly need a title to honor what you have endured. I have authorization to give them out. How shall we word your experience?”
Oh, yes, the titles. Some people’s names read like a resume, with little tidbits like ‘One Eyed’ or ‘Lion Wrestler’ if you did anything unusual. I suppose I’d definitely earned that, without even trying.
“Would she count as an Explorer of the Void?” Rowan asked. “Or is that reserved for the crew of The Voice?”
“I didn’t really explore it. I was more floating space junk, and there’s really no flattering way to say that.”
“Void Drifter?”
“Perhaps. Or Lyran Consul to . . . what is the name of this place?”
“Linden, I believe.”
“I’m not rated for offworld representation!”
“You appear to be thriving here. You have transcended such tests.”
“‘Transcended’ is more apt than you realize,” Rowan commented. “You think Elorhyn broke free? He may have to run to keep up with her.”
“Elo, truly? Then we shall make it so. Auglathla, daughter of Tamsin Wilrhyn and Cardis Ellisei, Ranger of the Forest Patrol, Crew of The Forthright Swan, Survivor of the Destruction, Transcended, Lyran Portmaster of Linden,” he improvised.
I was blushing heavily at all the compliments. I’d always thought of the incident as a mistake I’d somehow made, an embarrassment, not a great battle I had fought and won. “Oh, wait, I have a different name here. Aggi WyCliffe. Shouldn’t that be included, too?”
“You did? Why would you do that? How could you reject your heritage in such a manner?”
“No, nothing like that! I had to choose from a list when I registered here. It was the closest one to Wilrhyn.”
“Then - ‘Survivor of the Destruction, Transcended, known in Linden as Aggi Wycliffe, Lyran Portmaster.’ It will be recorded and sent home in the next transmission.”
“I think I found something, but this was too fascinating to interrupt,” Wahlford said. “Am I hearing you all correctly? Is this a Naming ceremony? I thought it would be a formal affair, with music and sacramental wine or -”
Milo grunted in disgust. “Only for the first naming. Will you stop making us a topic of study?”
“Oh, is he human?” I asked.
“There are twenty humans and five elves aboard, although no one’s sure about Dislani,” Farrell said.
“Is there anything I can get for those twenty humans and five elves? Earplugs, perhaps? Soap?”
“Bread. Is there fresh bread there? Baguettes? Rolls? Flatbread?” Wahlford sighed. “I’ll take anything.”
“We have got everything you can think of.”
“Fresh fruit and vegetables,” Milo said. “Salt and pepper.”
“Liquor,” Farrell put in. “Whatever, so long as it’s plentiful.”
I laughed. “All right, I’ll bring a care package by.”
“Aggi, blossom, it was good to hear your voice, and I hope we may speak again someday. Know we love you still.”
“Do you have email? Or is there some way we can keep in contact?”
We were starting to wear Farrell down, as he sighed and said, “I think this location qualifies as a port of call, once we solve the technical issues. Alpinia, give her one of the spare communicators.”
Something began beeping loudly over the speaker, and a distant voice shouted “Debris, 20 kilometers!”
“And now I must insist this conversation ends. Ma’am - I look forward to that care package. Alpinia, stand by. All hands to your stations!”










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