"The Infinite Valley"
Nov. 29th, 2002 04:45 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
zesty_pintoThe valley was a haze-wrought outline in the sky again. As it always was.
"What would it be like," he wondered aloud "To be outside the valley?". He was grinding the dull iron head of the axe against the wheel.
"Probably the end of the world," snickered Tobe in reply with armloads of lumber "If there's anything there worth seeing, we've seen it here."
He nodded at the thought, but one could never be told away from their curiosity if it has been bred into you from the longest times... from the days when one stared off into the world, and immediately saw it in front of you as a babe. When your hand reaches for it unconsciously, and never touching it. Such was the case with Pien.
"The world's been pretty violent these days," said Tobe as he unloaded the cart of wood from his arms into the neat pile. "We've got our share of wood for the day. I'm sure we can get a good supply of iron for it. You up for it?"
There was no reply from Pien. He was still busy staring at the sky... and the heavy gray mist-garbed mass that rose as though to engulf him.
"Hey," he reached up and slapped the back of Pien, who immediately jumped back, almost dropping the axe head first into his foot. The sight of nearly getting his foot chopped off forced him back.
His friend began laughing playfully "You've got to be careful! You may be more danger to yourself than the Lankyn Invaders!" He looked back in fear but then began to laugh with his friend.
Iron had been more plentiful those days since the sky began to rain of it in meteors. Astronomers called it the shower of destiny. Children would stare out into the sky to watch the lit plumes of destiny carry off through the sky and sometimes fall before them. Men would join them, sometimes hoping for a lode of raw ore to come before them. Iron ore was no longer so rare, and soon factories began to sprout into the lands before them, along the rims of the cradle that was the valley.
The invasion began that night, just like the night Pien lost his family. Metal sounds sang in the air to awaken him.
"Wake up, Pien, hurry!" His mother warned him as he was shaken from his bed.
"Mother...?" In the past he didn't understand.
"Hide, please. Under the house!" She pushed him forward. He heard his little brother crying downstairs. The sound of a spear head crashing down into the wood, the sound of a cracking noise, like bone against steel, and then the sound fell silent. He was pushed back, into a corner that his bed did not push into enough. His mother told him to be calm as she tried to hide with him, and he tried. He tried so hard, surrounded by the four walls of wood stone and flesh. He closed his eyes and he soon heard the sound of bones broken by steel again. It felt so warm and moist... and then it began to be cold as the house became empty, except for him.
Tobe stole his axe that night. It was in defense of his life as they broke into the inn they slept in. Pien could only hear, for Tobe only went as far as the door outside when the sound of his agonizing death came and jammed the door, sealing him to the four walls.
When it was day, he looked up, up at the endless scale of the valley's rock face high above. He took a rope and grapple, a couple of days of food and water, and began to scale.
The work was slow, the scale infinite, but his passion stronger. His hands blunted red with callouses and cuts on the sixth day, on the tenth he ran out of food. The winds pushed him off each day and he fought back at it in his tattering clothes, but by the twelvth, his hand touched the end of the ground and found a sky without the dark overhead loom. Starving and tired, he fell to the ground and took a long sleep along the soft grass that grew here.
His heavy pack now on the ground, he took to the soft earth and began to sleep in peaceful comfort with the open night blanketing him with the cool breeze of night. Yet, while he slept in the comfort of escaping, he would not notice until tomorrow the smouldering meteorites... with the bodies of the dead within.
"What would it be like," he wondered aloud "To be outside the valley?". He was grinding the dull iron head of the axe against the wheel.
"Probably the end of the world," snickered Tobe in reply with armloads of lumber "If there's anything there worth seeing, we've seen it here."
He nodded at the thought, but one could never be told away from their curiosity if it has been bred into you from the longest times... from the days when one stared off into the world, and immediately saw it in front of you as a babe. When your hand reaches for it unconsciously, and never touching it. Such was the case with Pien.
"The world's been pretty violent these days," said Tobe as he unloaded the cart of wood from his arms into the neat pile. "We've got our share of wood for the day. I'm sure we can get a good supply of iron for it. You up for it?"
There was no reply from Pien. He was still busy staring at the sky... and the heavy gray mist-garbed mass that rose as though to engulf him.
"Hey," he reached up and slapped the back of Pien, who immediately jumped back, almost dropping the axe head first into his foot. The sight of nearly getting his foot chopped off forced him back.
His friend began laughing playfully "You've got to be careful! You may be more danger to yourself than the Lankyn Invaders!" He looked back in fear but then began to laugh with his friend.
Iron had been more plentiful those days since the sky began to rain of it in meteors. Astronomers called it the shower of destiny. Children would stare out into the sky to watch the lit plumes of destiny carry off through the sky and sometimes fall before them. Men would join them, sometimes hoping for a lode of raw ore to come before them. Iron ore was no longer so rare, and soon factories began to sprout into the lands before them, along the rims of the cradle that was the valley.
The invasion began that night, just like the night Pien lost his family. Metal sounds sang in the air to awaken him.
"Wake up, Pien, hurry!" His mother warned him as he was shaken from his bed.
"Mother...?" In the past he didn't understand.
"Hide, please. Under the house!" She pushed him forward. He heard his little brother crying downstairs. The sound of a spear head crashing down into the wood, the sound of a cracking noise, like bone against steel, and then the sound fell silent. He was pushed back, into a corner that his bed did not push into enough. His mother told him to be calm as she tried to hide with him, and he tried. He tried so hard, surrounded by the four walls of wood stone and flesh. He closed his eyes and he soon heard the sound of bones broken by steel again. It felt so warm and moist... and then it began to be cold as the house became empty, except for him.
Tobe stole his axe that night. It was in defense of his life as they broke into the inn they slept in. Pien could only hear, for Tobe only went as far as the door outside when the sound of his agonizing death came and jammed the door, sealing him to the four walls.
When it was day, he looked up, up at the endless scale of the valley's rock face high above. He took a rope and grapple, a couple of days of food and water, and began to scale.
The work was slow, the scale infinite, but his passion stronger. His hands blunted red with callouses and cuts on the sixth day, on the tenth he ran out of food. The winds pushed him off each day and he fought back at it in his tattering clothes, but by the twelvth, his hand touched the end of the ground and found a sky without the dark overhead loom. Starving and tired, he fell to the ground and took a long sleep along the soft grass that grew here.
His heavy pack now on the ground, he took to the soft earth and began to sleep in peaceful comfort with the open night blanketing him with the cool breeze of night. Yet, while he slept in the comfort of escaping, he would not notice until tomorrow the smouldering meteorites... with the bodies of the dead within.
