Echoes From Dust
by L. S. Popovich
In the Cauterhaugh, lifeforms and even the landscape are composed of synthesized metals, and beasts called cynths ravage the dwindling human settlements. Riku is a Mag, an inorganic human born in this harsh and unforgiving land.
Riku has grown up hearing stories about Mitchlum, a metropolis of habitable trees and the bastion of the Priesthood, which channels divine powers in defense against the encroaching cynths. Riku is chosen to undergo the sacred trials, assume a priest’s mantle and protect her homeland. Everyone has high expectations for her, but her destiny is hers to decide.
| Table of Contents | Glossary |
Chapter 47: Dust
The closer they came to Dust, the stronger the wind blew. They pressed on, grasping at divots in the smooth ground and leaning into the gale. The way was hard, but eventually, a new landform appeared on the horizon, like a glimmering mirage.
It was a mountain of bright flames, continuously rising. The wind quieted incrementally. They approached, passing into the calm eye of a hurricane. Bones of beasts and men littered the path.
Izzie was speechless. The land was molded into bizarre shapes around the base of a wall of energy. Organic and inorganic forms streaked together, blending homogeneously. Petrified trees grew in slanted clusters and clutched inverted cliffs with malformed, clotted root systems.
Beyond the encircling storm, Riku lost sight of the Cauterhaugh. She felt a convergence of forces like magnetism, drawing her forward.
A line of burrowing grotto-le reared up and scrabbled toward them. Izzie was so weary that only Riku’s calls dissuaded the beasts from devouring them whole. Riku exerted her power, and the pacified creatures fled past the frantic, swirling barrier. More than Izzie’s brute force, Riku’s talents had proven invaluable on their journey.
“There are lots of grotto-le here,” Riku said with dismay.
Several more grotto-le issued from a slender portal between chutes of flame and took to the sky. They dragged clubbed tails and sported intricate golden horn arrays.
“No wonder few return from Dust now,” Izzie marveled. “It’s a maelstrom.” On every side, unfamiliar terrain formed and reformed before their eyes. “I don’t remember any of this. I pictured it differently.”
Virgil stopped them with a wave of his hand. They were standing before a wide chasm. Peering down, Riku made out the sandy bottom. Bright pink whirlpools of spiny coral were dappled with spiral shells and glinting gems. Fine grains flowed from crags, bubbling and merging with glossy streams of quicksilver. Yellow fumes wafted from the narrow crevice and choked her, before spreading into a colorful curtain of smoke above their heads.
“Quicksand,” Virgil said.
“What’s it made of?” Izzie asked.
“Liquid plastic, gels, ores?” Virgil said quizzically.
“Does it go all the way around?” Izzie asked.
“Hard to say. Can you transform and fly over?” he asked.
Izzie winced and shook her head. “There has to be another path.” Clearly, Izzie was still avoiding her beast-form.
“Hold on,” Riku exclaimed, pointing to a place below the shimmering portal. “It looks like a shrine.” Beyond billowing plumes, tucked into a small grove of trees, red pillars shone. Like an island cloaked in perpetual flame, it was the sole peaceful fixture within the chaotic vortex.
“Little remains of our destination,” Virgil shook his head. “Nonetheless, go on, and see what you can find. This is as far as I go.”
“You’re not coming with us?” Riku asked in dismay.
Virgil smiled, but the look in his eye was chilling.
Izzie frowned with genuine hurt. “Why take us all this way only to leave now?”
“The Council is on our trail. They will be here shortly.”
“What?” Izzie clenched her fists. “You’re running away? How long have you known they were coming?”
“Take this,” Virgil said, handing her a steel contraption, small enough to fit in a pocket. Izzie examined it, bewildered. Nothing more than a glass-panelled box lined with plastic buttons.
“What is it?”
“It transmits messages. Pre-Fjord technology. Solar-powered. The Council used them in the old days. The Fjord still functions as an antenna. Very useful if you know how to keep them working.”
“How did you come by this?”
“Relics and medical supplies are not the only goods I deal in.”
“What is your connection to my mother?”
“We have a history, she and I.”
“What kind of history? Tell me the truth. Why did Remera wipe out my memories? Why did I have to come here?”
He cut her off with a firm shake of his head. “Your memories are waiting for you in Dust. We will meet again in Mitchlum.”
“Mitchlum? You’re not making any sense!”
“The gods reunited us, Izzie, despite your mother’s best efforts. Trust me, and go.”
Izzie hesitated, glanced to Riku, and shook the monk’s hand firmly. He tightened the pack on his back, which was still unexpectedly full.
“I have every faith in you to do what needs to be done, Izzie. Riku, you’re the only one who can make sure she stays true to herself.” He turned to leave. “I’m proud of you.” The last words were barely audible.
Riku started to chase him, but Izzie grabbed her sleeve. “What’s going to happen if the Council finds us?” Riku asked.
“Don’t worry, Riku. We have to trust him.”
“Why should we trust him?”
“I think he’s my father.”
Riku’s jaw dropped. “Your memories, are they—?”
“We don’t have much time.” Izzie clasped her hand and dragged her into the air. With a few beats of her beast-wings, they were on the other side of the flaming barrier, in the stillness at the center of Dust.
Copyright © 2019 by L. S. Popovich
