ellinor
Explorer
37x02
37x02
Excerpt from the notebook of Jan Kormick:
###
“We have traveled from Divine Mark,” Nyoko explained to the third person that day, a stocky woman who had identified herself as Prime Inquisitor Tsamanu. The group was in the same tent where they had been held the day before, with the Inquisitor, two guards, and a man whose insignia identified him as a Commander, but who never introduced himself. Nyoko continued. “We believe you are in grave danger of imminent attack, possibly from the Sheh. Has anyone unfamiliar come into your midst recently?”
The Inquisitor gave a meaningful look to Commander beside her. “You spies know well that someone has,” said the Commander. “Your friend Clayton.”
Clayton?
“I am Jan Kormick, a servant of Kettenek in my land.” Kormick mispronounced Kettenek again. By now, Nyoko found his idiosyncratic pronunciation endearing. The Inquisitor found it less so. Kormick continued undaunted. “We are telling the truth. But even if you don’t believe us, what could be the harm of increasing patrols in the area? If your patrols find Sheh attackers, you’ll know we’re telling the truth, and you’ll be safer. If they don’t, you’ll confirm your suspicions. Win win.”
“I will arrange for patrols,” the Commander said, turning to the Inquisitor. “Get their story. Gently.”
Nyoko stepped forward to begin relating her Witness, but the Inquisitor stopped her. “Adept Wazani reported that you may be hiding something.”
Nyoko resented the implication. “We conversed with Adept Wazani-san for fourteen minutes. There are, of course, many things about ourselves that we did not tell him. But I am an Adept.”
“We’ll see what your friends have to say,” said the Inquisitor. She pointed to Savina and Kormick. “Guards, take these two. Bring them to separate tents.”
Everyone in the group stiffened visibly at the idea of being separated from their friends. Arden stood up. “It’s my duty to follow her.”
One of the guards growled. Savina smiled. “It’s all right, Arden. You may stay here.”
“I promise, we will not harm them,” said the Inquisitor.
Mena shook her head and muttered. “Kormick, if you come back dead, I’ll kill you.”
The group waited, tense and silent. No one spoke. After approximately 37 minutes, Adept Wazani entered the tent. “I have spoken with each of your friends. There are some discrepancies in their stories that warrant concern.”
Nyoko wondered what sorts of discrepancies rose to the level of “warranting concern” in Adept Wazani’s mind. Just then, a piercing scream rang out across the camp. It sounded like Savina. Everyone in the group rose and rushed toward the tent flap. The guards lowered their halberds to stop them from leaving.
Things were about to get very bad, very fast. “I beg you,” Nyoko raised her voice. “In less than two hours, unless you do something, this camp will be attacked. It will result in stunning loss of life. Suspend your questioning of my friends and share custody of my Witness.”
“We promised we would not harm your friends, and we are true to our word. Guard, go see what’s happening.” One of the guards left. The other stood at the ready. Everyone looked ready to pounce. Surely they would have, if two seconds later, the guard hadn’t returned with Savina. She looked unharmed.
“What happened?” asked Rose.
“I told them everything. How we were on a mission. How time seems to be repeating itself. They kept making me sit there. I told them that it wasn’t just the lives of 500 soldiers at stake. That we were doing something important. They kept making me sit there. So I screamed. It worked—they started bringing me back here. Then this guard hurried me the rest of the way back.”
Mena’s face was a combination of anger and relief. “You scared us.”
“Hey, someone fetch this guy some water,” came a voice from outside the tent. The flap opened, and Kormick strode in. His arm and hand were bloody. He was missing a finger.
Mena’s sword was out in a heartbeat. “What did they do to you?” she demanded, her armor echoing her fury.
“Oh, this?” Kormick held up his hand. “I bit it off to prove a point. About the time loop.”
“You WHAT?” said Mena.
“Either it’s back like nothing happened in a couple of hours,” Kormick grinned, “or I get a new nickname.”
“You are a madman,” said Savina.
Kormick shrugged. “At any rate, I told them the truth. We are on a mission, time keeps repeating itself, the lives of their entire camp are at stake…”
Nyoko looked at Adept Wazani. “That is precisely what Savina told you. Exactly what discrepancies warranted concern?”
Nyoko tilted her head ever so slightly to indicate that Adept Wazani’s technique was one she was familiar with: he had questioned the accused conspirators separately to identify discrepancies in their stories, and finding none, had openly accused them of discrepancies to see how they and their friends would respond. Clearly, Nyoko thought, Adept Wazani had misjudged the party. She hoped that by exposing his stratagem, she would compel Adept Wazani to recognize her bona fides as an Adept. They really didn’t have time to continue with this fruitless interrogation—
BOOM. An explosion rocked the tent. The earth shuddered.
That should not have happened yet, Nyoko thought.
“Have we been stuck here that long?” asked Tavi.
“No,” replied Nyoko. “It’s 45 minutes early.”
“Maybe we changed things. We made them send extra patrols. Maybe those patrols found—”
Bear claws raked the tent fabric. “Whatever it is,” said Kormick, “we have to make the best of this. And there’s a good chance this tent’s going to burst into flame in a minute. When they brought me for questioning, I saw where they’re keeping the prisoner. It’s just a couple of tents away from here.”
They ran, just as before. Through swarms, sinkholes, debris, spores, roots, fire, and that enormous bear. Kormick’s foot got tangled in roots and brambles. Arden cut him free. Rocks and dirt were flying everywhere. Tavi and Twiggy each got caught in sinkholes and teleported out of them. Both were hurt—Tavi quite badly—but both were able to keep running. Nyoko remarked, not for the first time, how convenient it must be to be able to teleport.
The prisoner’s tent was guarded by two men. It was obvious that neither wanted to be there.
Kormick walked right up to one of them. “Quick, how many fingers am I holding up?” He waved his injured hand in front of a guard’s face. The guard blinked. POW. Kormick knocked him out. The other guard ran away as if he had been looking for an excuse.
They rushed into the tent. It was empty, but for a man lying flat on his back on a table. He was lying still, staring upward, peaceful amidst the chaos outside. He was in his 20s, with Peninsular features, brown hair, and a reasonably athletic build. He wore a grey cloak and Peninsular travel clothes in muted colors. There was a nasty bruise on his temple. It looked like he had been treated roughly. He didn’t move.
Then he turned his head and looked at them. His brow furrowed. He blinked. Then he sat up like a shot as he gaped at them. “Who in the gods’ name are you?”
Gods, plural, Nyoko noted. “I am Nyoko of the Adepts. And you are not supposed to be here.”
His eyes looked haunted. “I know. But—how do I not be here?” His voice was plaintive. Desperate.
“What year is it?” Nyoko asked.
The man seemed relieved even to hear the question. “It’s the year 390 in the Alliance reckoning. 158 in the Peninsular reckoning. The Sovereigns would say year 53 of the reign of Rikitaru Nori.”
“16 years ago,” said Nyoko. “Do you know why the attack came early today?”
The man’s eyes grew even wider. He leapt to his feet and grabbed Nyoko by the shoulders. “You remember. You remember! You remember! My name is Aeton. I have been dying every night for the last 16 years. And I don’t know what you did, but listen—”
The campfire crackled, its light reflecting off the black, spiky grass of their campsite.
“See, my finger’s back!” said Kormick.
37x02
Excerpt from the notebook of Jan Kormick:
…she really is a remarkable woman, Dame Mena. Remarkable.
The notebook leaf I’d left under a rock at camp the previous night had disappeared when we reappeared there. As I see it, this means one of two things. Either the beasts of this area have developed a taste for inked parchment, or we had, indeed, been transported to a time before I placed the paper there. We have entered our own histories at precisely the same moment each night. Twiggy points out that this should not work; if we were truly sent back in time, she thinks, we would encounter earlier iterations of ourselves, and little crowds of us would accumulate. Twiggy seems quite positive of this, citing the publications of various Kettenite tomes about the orderly progress of time and the impossibility of time travel. Be that as it may, we were returned there again, by all indications about to embark on the same day for the third time. I’m content to call it a “time loop” and see what we can do about getting out of it.
The attack on the Sovereign camp remains a mystery, as does the identity of the “heathen” they claim to have captured. It is impossible, say Savina, Twiggy, and Tavi, that one person acting alone could have created the sort of massive occurrence as the attack on the camp. The Ketkath has proven to be a formidable opponent, but it is inconceivable that the land itself is responsible for such grand coordinated attack. It’s more likely, we think, that the Sheh learned of the Sovereign expedition and issued a preemptive strike. We assume the Sheh must have launched their attack from somewhere outside the Sovereign camp, although from where, we do not know.
Since we now know where the Sovereign garrison is located, we decided not to wait for the patrol to take us, but to head directly there at speed, so as to arrive well before the mess begins just before midnight. We set out on a more direct route than previous, through a gully of loose stones, which I took rump over teakettle. Dame Mena smirked at my natural grace.
We spotted an interesting marking along what may have been a foot trail that we crossed on the way. It looked like two squares, one with an open side, and some squiggly lines. (here, there is a drawing.) Made by the Sheh, I assume.
We met Tomahura’s patrol closer to camp this time, and pulled a riff on what we’d done the previous day. They took us to the same tent, and here we sit, waiting for the authorities to arrive. If they don’t show up soon, I’m going to go out looking. I don’t want to be here when the bear arrives.
###
“We have traveled from Divine Mark,” Nyoko explained to the third person that day, a stocky woman who had identified herself as Prime Inquisitor Tsamanu. The group was in the same tent where they had been held the day before, with the Inquisitor, two guards, and a man whose insignia identified him as a Commander, but who never introduced himself. Nyoko continued. “We believe you are in grave danger of imminent attack, possibly from the Sheh. Has anyone unfamiliar come into your midst recently?”
The Inquisitor gave a meaningful look to Commander beside her. “You spies know well that someone has,” said the Commander. “Your friend Clayton.”
Clayton?
“I am Jan Kormick, a servant of Kettenek in my land.” Kormick mispronounced Kettenek again. By now, Nyoko found his idiosyncratic pronunciation endearing. The Inquisitor found it less so. Kormick continued undaunted. “We are telling the truth. But even if you don’t believe us, what could be the harm of increasing patrols in the area? If your patrols find Sheh attackers, you’ll know we’re telling the truth, and you’ll be safer. If they don’t, you’ll confirm your suspicions. Win win.”
“I will arrange for patrols,” the Commander said, turning to the Inquisitor. “Get their story. Gently.”
Nyoko stepped forward to begin relating her Witness, but the Inquisitor stopped her. “Adept Wazani reported that you may be hiding something.”
Nyoko resented the implication. “We conversed with Adept Wazani-san for fourteen minutes. There are, of course, many things about ourselves that we did not tell him. But I am an Adept.”
“We’ll see what your friends have to say,” said the Inquisitor. She pointed to Savina and Kormick. “Guards, take these two. Bring them to separate tents.”
Everyone in the group stiffened visibly at the idea of being separated from their friends. Arden stood up. “It’s my duty to follow her.”
One of the guards growled. Savina smiled. “It’s all right, Arden. You may stay here.”
“I promise, we will not harm them,” said the Inquisitor.
Mena shook her head and muttered. “Kormick, if you come back dead, I’ll kill you.”
The group waited, tense and silent. No one spoke. After approximately 37 minutes, Adept Wazani entered the tent. “I have spoken with each of your friends. There are some discrepancies in their stories that warrant concern.”
Nyoko wondered what sorts of discrepancies rose to the level of “warranting concern” in Adept Wazani’s mind. Just then, a piercing scream rang out across the camp. It sounded like Savina. Everyone in the group rose and rushed toward the tent flap. The guards lowered their halberds to stop them from leaving.
Things were about to get very bad, very fast. “I beg you,” Nyoko raised her voice. “In less than two hours, unless you do something, this camp will be attacked. It will result in stunning loss of life. Suspend your questioning of my friends and share custody of my Witness.”
“We promised we would not harm your friends, and we are true to our word. Guard, go see what’s happening.” One of the guards left. The other stood at the ready. Everyone looked ready to pounce. Surely they would have, if two seconds later, the guard hadn’t returned with Savina. She looked unharmed.
“What happened?” asked Rose.
“I told them everything. How we were on a mission. How time seems to be repeating itself. They kept making me sit there. I told them that it wasn’t just the lives of 500 soldiers at stake. That we were doing something important. They kept making me sit there. So I screamed. It worked—they started bringing me back here. Then this guard hurried me the rest of the way back.”
Mena’s face was a combination of anger and relief. “You scared us.”
“Hey, someone fetch this guy some water,” came a voice from outside the tent. The flap opened, and Kormick strode in. His arm and hand were bloody. He was missing a finger.
Mena’s sword was out in a heartbeat. “What did they do to you?” she demanded, her armor echoing her fury.
“Oh, this?” Kormick held up his hand. “I bit it off to prove a point. About the time loop.”
“You WHAT?” said Mena.
“Either it’s back like nothing happened in a couple of hours,” Kormick grinned, “or I get a new nickname.”
“You are a madman,” said Savina.
Kormick shrugged. “At any rate, I told them the truth. We are on a mission, time keeps repeating itself, the lives of their entire camp are at stake…”
Nyoko looked at Adept Wazani. “That is precisely what Savina told you. Exactly what discrepancies warranted concern?”
Nyoko tilted her head ever so slightly to indicate that Adept Wazani’s technique was one she was familiar with: he had questioned the accused conspirators separately to identify discrepancies in their stories, and finding none, had openly accused them of discrepancies to see how they and their friends would respond. Clearly, Nyoko thought, Adept Wazani had misjudged the party. She hoped that by exposing his stratagem, she would compel Adept Wazani to recognize her bona fides as an Adept. They really didn’t have time to continue with this fruitless interrogation—
BOOM. An explosion rocked the tent. The earth shuddered.
That should not have happened yet, Nyoko thought.
“Have we been stuck here that long?” asked Tavi.
“No,” replied Nyoko. “It’s 45 minutes early.”
“Maybe we changed things. We made them send extra patrols. Maybe those patrols found—”
Bear claws raked the tent fabric. “Whatever it is,” said Kormick, “we have to make the best of this. And there’s a good chance this tent’s going to burst into flame in a minute. When they brought me for questioning, I saw where they’re keeping the prisoner. It’s just a couple of tents away from here.”
They ran, just as before. Through swarms, sinkholes, debris, spores, roots, fire, and that enormous bear. Kormick’s foot got tangled in roots and brambles. Arden cut him free. Rocks and dirt were flying everywhere. Tavi and Twiggy each got caught in sinkholes and teleported out of them. Both were hurt—Tavi quite badly—but both were able to keep running. Nyoko remarked, not for the first time, how convenient it must be to be able to teleport.
The prisoner’s tent was guarded by two men. It was obvious that neither wanted to be there.
Kormick walked right up to one of them. “Quick, how many fingers am I holding up?” He waved his injured hand in front of a guard’s face. The guard blinked. POW. Kormick knocked him out. The other guard ran away as if he had been looking for an excuse.
They rushed into the tent. It was empty, but for a man lying flat on his back on a table. He was lying still, staring upward, peaceful amidst the chaos outside. He was in his 20s, with Peninsular features, brown hair, and a reasonably athletic build. He wore a grey cloak and Peninsular travel clothes in muted colors. There was a nasty bruise on his temple. It looked like he had been treated roughly. He didn’t move.
Then he turned his head and looked at them. His brow furrowed. He blinked. Then he sat up like a shot as he gaped at them. “Who in the gods’ name are you?”
Gods, plural, Nyoko noted. “I am Nyoko of the Adepts. And you are not supposed to be here.”
His eyes looked haunted. “I know. But—how do I not be here?” His voice was plaintive. Desperate.
“What year is it?” Nyoko asked.
The man seemed relieved even to hear the question. “It’s the year 390 in the Alliance reckoning. 158 in the Peninsular reckoning. The Sovereigns would say year 53 of the reign of Rikitaru Nori.”
“16 years ago,” said Nyoko. “Do you know why the attack came early today?”
The man’s eyes grew even wider. He leapt to his feet and grabbed Nyoko by the shoulders. “You remember. You remember! You remember! My name is Aeton. I have been dying every night for the last 16 years. And I don’t know what you did, but listen—”
The campfire crackled, its light reflecting off the black, spiky grass of their campsite.
“See, my finger’s back!” said Kormick.