"The priests and holy-men, they claim those things out there are the restless ghosts of dead gods."
"And what do you think?"
"I'm not so sure they're ghosts." -- Anon Guest
They called this land the Dead Plains. The grasses grew high, but trees would not. Neither deer nor cow would voluntarily graze on the grasses, here. Even horses, an animal universally recognised as rather dim, would not walk into the preternatural flatness of the Dead Plains. And worse, it was fresh after Fire Season, when the desolate nature of this area was laid bare and black for all to see.
"What are they, then?" asked Baudrik, world's unluckiest apprentice, as he helped his master pull the cart across the blackened wastes. He did his utmost not to look at the indistinct white figures as they went about their peculiar dances on the plains. They certainly looked like ghosts.
"That's what I aim to find out. Legends say that there was a great war and a great weapon. Like all great weapons in legends, it made the people vanish, but left the buildings intact. And, of course, it was used. Or something went wrong and it turned against its creators." Investigator Karis puffed as she spoke. This was harder work than either of the were used to. "The people didn't quite vanish. And the buildings... went away. All that was left was a barren plain where only wild grass would grow, and no sensible living thing would ever wander."
They got the cart into an area where even the pale figures wouldn't go. Caught their breath and drank from their water skins.
"But... we came here," objected Baudrik.
"Because we're curious enough to ignore sense." She grinned. "Watch them. See if notice patterns."
Baudrik would rather not, but there had to be something about them that caught his master's attention. Even though watching them terrified him. After an hour, and rations, he thought he had it. "They're moving around things that aren't here."
"Exactly so. The buildings went with them. They still have all their infrastructure. And since they don't go here it follows that there must be a solid object in their reality. Some say they can move small objects in ours. I plan to put that to the test. Communicate with them."
Before they even set up the tent, Master Karis put out a blackboard and opened an oiled pouch of chalk. Put them down in the middle of a cluster of white figures. Left them a duster. They set up camp in the clear area. Inside a solid thing, according to Master Karis. And for three days, nothing happened.
On the fourth day, there was ancient writing on the blackboard. Karis rushed to bring it inside their tent and replace it with another. And spent another three days translating it into Common. During that time, Baudrik was sent out on a velocipede to where the horses were, and from there to the nearest town to fetch supplies. Baudrik predicted long and boring months of beans and porridge and peas and dried meat and hard bread.
Things began to happen. The white pebbles that Master Karis brought along became scattered throughout the burned plain. Not scattered for long, though. They became outlines. Walls and streets, with holes for the doors. Footprints of objects that baffled Baudrik. Nevertheless, he walked around them as if they were there, following his master's lead.
The supply runs started to become accompanied with trips to artificers, for paper and drafting tools, with instructions that Master Karis drew on those papers. The little town of Deadstop soon flourished with new inventions, and became a gathering site for people just as smart, just as insane as Master Keris. Some even followed Baudrik into the burned plains, and helped trample the regrowing grass short. Where they didn't cut it down to make their own paper, because journeying to Deadstop and back took an entire day.
The place where the entities would not go was their doomsday device, and all the Masters and some of the apprentices were building another one in that exact spot. According to the translations, the device had to be turned off in both realities in order to save The City That Once Was, and all the people therein.
The machines that came from the designs were starting to frighten Baudrik. The steam-driven ones made sense. You could tell where they got their power. But after that... with elek-trickery wrung from sunlight and wind? With the machines that could move on their own via pro-gammon. It was too much like the ghosts themselves.
Baudrik ran away to Deadstop when the Masters were about to sin-kro-nize their machine with the one in the other reality. A great number of fellow apprentices joined him. And hunkered in a bar with fellow people who did not wish to watch the aught-oh-mat-ik machines go about their terrifying business.
There was a flash of light that ran through the entire world...
For a moment, Baudrik thought that the world was broken all over again, but after he was done with his rapid and urgent prayer, he opened his eyes to see the world just as it had been. He dared venture outside to see that the eerie machines had gone idle where they stood. He fetched his horse and rode it towards the burned plains. But they were not plains, any more.
A shining faerie city stood where there was nothing more than empty plains. Dazzling in colour and light. Every surface not growing plants shone like the sun collectors in Deadstop. But far sleeker and more breathtakingly beautiful. The noise of celebration from inside this place of bizarre curves and dizzying heights was very human, though. And his horse did not baulk to enter it.
The faerie people were all colours. Browns so dark that they were almost black. Pale as milk. And every colour in between. They scattered petals from every balcony for Baudrik and all those who dared follow him. And when he got off his horse, several people hugged him and lifted him up on their shoulders. Just like they did for Master Karis.
"We did it," his Master cheered. "We've revived the Lost City! All their wonders can come back!"
Having seen some of their wonders, Baudrik had to wonder if this was a good thing.
[Image (c) Can Stock Photo / DrugMarin]
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