Novels

“My dearest beloved,” Luran asked, leaning back from a device. “I need your eyes and hands.”

Sarisa set her papers aside and stood from her seat. Kneeling down next to her Countier, she peered into the innards of the strange machine. “Here,” Luran pointed. “There is a connection to the lodestone, but the machine still lies silent. What still needs to be done?”

Sarisa stared. She knew few languages of the Second World: she could speak a few chittering words of the Woowaluk that swarmed in the southern swamps, and an assortment of phrases from the wetland Aeolam.

As time had passed, she realized that the Holy Devices of the Ever Lord had a language all their own. She knew where the strange shapes should go, based on where other shapes were put. She understood the flow of wire and the curve of sphere. She didn’t know how she knew, but she did.

She still struggled to translate the language of the Ever Lord’s magic into the common language, but she was resolved to try.

On a far off mountain, distant from any of the known towns of the Myriad Worlds, there sits the giant monastery of Kahch. Scholars have, for many generations, debated how the monastery was built, for its massive size suggests an extensive endeavor, while the surrounding environs show no sign of cultivation or administration to support such a project. There are no roads to the monastery, no small towns nor abandoned ruins, and the tree-choked Savannah allows for no clear caravan paths to the nearest port.

This suggests that the monastery was made by materials from the surrounding land, but the giant stone blocks are not indigenous to the region, and the amount of food required for a team to build such a structure would require nearby farmland, which does not appear to exist.

The Moneyed Monks are a religious sect of mendicants who adhere to the Path of the Coin. There are two major sects of this religion; those of the Bent Back, and the path of Heavy Hands. Both sects claim to be the original faith that was broken away from by their heretical siblings, and each lays claim to the title Moneyed Monks. Both sects have authenticated ancient texts and historical artifacts that support their understanding of the schism. This leads most scholars of the era to believe that neither sect has the whole truth of it.

The Rumrunners have lived longer in the Velvet than most known societies. Of deep importance in their culture is the concept of the Shadow, the dark space left when the light is obscured. The wisest among them believe that the shadows themselves are covering things, and this place underneath is the domain of the Shadows Beneath The Shadows.

The parable of the Lake and the Fisherbird is used to explain the concept. A fish may swim along for its entire life, know every inch of the ponds and riverbeds, but it will know nothing of the sky before a fisherbird spears it with its beak and pulls it into the air. We are the fish in this parable, with the Shadows Beneath the Shadows being the birds.

Interestingly, Rimrunner folklore states that the Shadows aren’t beings of superior power than mortals, simply that they reside in a different kind of space than we do. Were one of us able to travel to this other-space, we too would have the near-divine powers that the Shadows possess.

There are simply too many religious and spiritual practices among the Myriad Worlds to describe with any level of accurate detail. That said, there are many religions that have either great political influence, cultural connections, or similar importance — greater than many other traditions. As such, a band of scholars created the book The Twenty-Seven Faiths, which is a suitable primer for understanding the religious and cultural underpinnings of the Myriad Worlds.

While The Twenty-Seven Faiths hides its section on the High on High in a sidebar, I feel — especially considering the High on High’s connection to the faith of the Tgahio — I will risk their irritation and place my section on the High on High first and foremost.

The Shadow-seas are not a location for casual travel, nor for relaxing vacations. Only the most dedicated explorers and scholars should consider journeying to its ink-tinted lands and sandy waters.

For those who are willing to take the risk, the Shadow-seas are a place of immense history and hidden secrets. Passage is allowed only on special dispensation; the travelers in question must each bear a Writ of Welcome, signed by one of the Netherthanes or their representatives, as well as one of the Netherthanes accepted foreign authorities or their representatives.

Finding a representative of the Netherthanes outside the Shadow-seas can be challenging in itself, never mind finding an authority that is acceptable to the Netherthanes. It is widely accepted that the High on High certainly applies, as does any noble of sufficient standing in the Belle Empire, but few other kingdoms are known to be regularly accepted.

Few of the servants in House Di Mattia knew that the sitting room on the top floor of the north wing was kept locked. Fewer knew that only the Countier, Countess, and Ladymaid Aisha held the keys. The few that did know also knew their place, and while curiosity tugged hard at their hearts, they kept their humility and allowed their Nobles their eccentricity.

Sarisa ran through the mansion, stopping only once in a panic when her fumbling failed to produce her key from around her neck. She found it a moment later, where it had bounced from her running. Gripping the key in both hands, she ran once more towards the locked sitting room.

When she reached the doors, she slipped the key into the lock, and entered their laboratory with a fimiliar mix of shame and pride.

Shame, because it was no laboratory worth the name. Indeed, the room’s only claim to the title was little more than intent coupled with a sincere effort. While the servants knew it had once been a sitting room, Sarisa didn’t remember the room’s previous purpose and didn’t much care to. It looked more like a storage room now, with thick wooden tables and chairs placed haphazardly across the floor, filling in the spaces between salvaged objects and their own manufactured equipment.

Pride, becuase it was theirs. Ever since the ruins had been discovered, Sarisa and the Countier had worked tirelessly to tease out their many secrets. Every step had been a new and frightening effort, seasoned with the knowledge that if the Church ever found out, they would be killed for their troubles, or worse.

It is difficult to describe the shear variety of insect-folk. It is thought that no less than seventy-nine separate species all fall under the heading of ‘insect-folk’, ranging from the tall and multi-limbed Aradonousi, to the short and carapaced Kkkki. The Xiaba, perhaps the most familiar people of insect-folk, have six subspecies, all distinct in minor ways, none of which are immediately recognizable to any but the most experienced observer of the Insect-Folk people.

As such, it will be incredibly difficult to explore the Insect-folk as a singular culture, though there are similarities and differences between the species that make a seperate section not only possible, but advised.

The Land of Och on the World of Tam is mainly famed for three things: its verdant peacefulness, its constant danger, and the ever-present struggle between the two.

It is a common saying in the Myriad Worlds that the Land of Och is trying to kill you, and it is easy to see where this sentiment comes from: the Land of Och possesses several hundred species of plant and animal that survive in a quite violent ecosystem. Even the small and passive keedee-flies that float lazily through the air have a virulent venom that can kill small animals and cause severe and lasting pain in larger ones.

This danger is shared by the weather: raging storms and sudden temperature changes are common in Och during the Hard Seasons, and many unprepared travelers have died to the antagonistic climate.

However, the Soft Seasons are the polar opposite, with temperate climes and mild precipitation. The Still season in particular is named so because even the more aggressive fauna become calmer and less territorial. Add to this the remarkably beautiful landscapes of Och, and you have a World that is both known for its relaxing atmosphere and its ever-present dangers.

The Countess Sarisa Di Mattia stepped through the opened door, and her heart sank. It was the same every time. She hated her drawing room. The rest of the Di Mattia Mansion was dreary — utilitarian at best — and infused with the staid airs and atmosphere she had grown up with her entire life. But the drawing room…

Alone, out of all the rooms in her father’s mansion, the drawing room had potential.

The fireplace was deep and made of grounstone — the fired mixture of resin, ground silt, and gravel. It felt heavy, squatting in the wall and spewing comfortable heat into the room like a demon. The walls were seasoned wood planks, with the distinctive smell of the forest in high-summer. She presumed some mold or fungus had settled into the planks back when the mansion was built, and now gave the room its distinctive smell. The walls themselves were covered with bookcases as tall as the room itself.

The bookcases…Sarisa grit her teeth as she walked to the closest lounge. The bookcases were abysmal. Only one had any reasonable number of books, and it was only after an evening of re-binding that the books’ contents — if not their covers — held anything of value.

Her eyes danced over the small collection of books. That was one joy she found in the room; she had met a great many lords, ladies, and dignitaries in this room since her father’s death, and none of them knew that the simple boring books that littered the room held heretical contents.

The Kit are a thin avian race. Four-armed and therefore four-winged, their leathery lizard-like faces are sprinkled with feathers of varying shades of effervescent green, blue, and red. Skin is leathery and light.

The Kit are sometimes called the ‘underclass’ of the Myriad Worlds. While many presume this is due to a natural genetic failing on the part of the Kit, it is instead due to a great number of misunderstandings and ignorance of the civilized worlds, especially during the first contact with the Kit.

The Kit are a tribal species, living in small groups of no more than fifty. Impressively nomadic, they have little use for large tools, instead creating harnesses and belts to hold what they carry. Claimed ‘spots’ may have makeshift ovens or standing utilities, but such things are luxuries and generally ignored or overlooked by the average Kit.