Chapter 1 : Aftermath       Hartlin worked alone in the wild; his lament lost on a world with no ears. GeycL

Hartlin continued to labour in the twilight, away from the shelter of the tunnels and the bickering, blame laying company of the survivors of Walasian. The tunnels gave him little comfort and he yearned for the warmth to return to the desolate land so that he could leave their dankness forever.       He cursed himself. He hadn't reckoned on the darkened sky when he foresaw the catastrophe but even though the shroud continued to block the sun, the ash-strewn skies were becoming lighter and as the gloom continued to fade with every day that passed his optimism began to return. What light there was had already allowed a harvest of sorts and it seemed that the threat of famine would now recede but whether that would be enough to deflect the blame for empty stomachs remained to be seen.       Behind a distant boulder Depince's paranoia deepened: his demons clawed at his soul. His pulse thumped loudly in his head: his breath rattled in his chest but still he clung to the silver tube held tightly in his hand. He eyed the pilgrim warily. His mind raced with thoughts of conflict and played out his moves of attack. "I will kill him before he kills me," he thought.       Hartlin paced methodically, planting the seeds from the old fabric bag on his shoulder, spacing them carefully to his plan; a plan that he did not understand. Suddenly he stopped and stooped, feigning interest in the dust at his feet. His hood slipped onto his brow and he peered surreptitiously at the rock that hid the owner of the manic eyes that watched him. The eyes disappeared behind the boulder and Hartlin slipped a large, smooth stone into his sleeve.       Depince slid to the ground in an attempt to hide and forced his body against the jagged rock. It dug heartlessly through his ragged clothes and into the bones beneath his wasted skin. Hartlin began to whistle and the tune wafted on the wind. Somewhere in his mind, Depince found his sanity and his madness eased. His thoughts drifted to the tranquillity of Mauruvian and the joy of his youth.       Hartlin rounded the boulder and watched cautiously as he whistled. Depince swayed back and forth to the soothing tune; his eyes now shut and calm. Hartlin was shocked: he'd seen more fat on a beggar. Here was true famine - unlike the few hungry days that the Walasian had endured waiting for the crop to ripen - but then, most of the land remained devastated. It was a wonder that this poor wretch had survived at all.       Hartlin dropped his stone and removed his cloak from his shoulders. He draped it gingerly around Depince, fearing that the skeletal figure might collapse under the weight of the cloth. Depince sighed, comforted like a baby in a blanket.       Hartlin continued his soothing lullaby and proffered some goat's milk to Depince's lips. Depince drank greedily then fell into a peaceful slumber: the fears that had driven him to despair in the wilderness left his tortured mind: his body relaxed and his hand released its grip.       The tube fell to the floor and rolled to Hartlin's feet. He picked it up and fingered it knowingly, feeling the intricate detail of Mauruvian beneath his fingers - a link to his past. The top unscrewed effortlessly and Hartlin removed several pieces of parchment. He began to read. GeycL       "Hartlin, my friend and beloved of the Grelates take pity on my messenger and treat him kindly. His name is Depince - a simple soul - and this is the final task that I entrust to him.       Much to the distress of your peers, and us your warning came in time to save the few but not the many. It is not your fault; you did your best. Your telepathic power is not as great as ours is. It is we who failed. We should have sent envoys to Walasian to help you but your peers prevailed over our counsel thanks mainly to the words of Spernica. I fear that he and the rest of the Shunned have survived the cataclysm. Although I love all of the children of Mauruvian I wish - for your sake - that Spernica and his followers had perished. Beware of his lies, Hartlin. He will do all in his powers to thwart your designs.       By the time that you receive this, I will be no more but I know that you have survived. The map is for you.       I see your future and your plans to rebuild. The forest that you plant is laid bare to me though it has yet to shoot. You plant methodically but you know not why. The chart will solve your riddles …eventually.       You will find that a remnant of my kind still exists. Do not reveal them to others or show them the things that I write. It is too dangerous for them to know…yet. When the time is right the true owner will find my writings and know that they belong to him.       As is our way, I have written the remainders in prose so that you will remember should the parchment fail. Keep these secrets in your care. Do not despair at the tribulations that you will face during your lifetime for your destiny and that of your lineage will triumph. May you remember my kind and me, long after we have turned to dust: I remain your loving friend and tutor, Draggo." GeycL       A vision from his past appeared in Hartlin's mind and a tear sprang into his eye as Draggo appeared in his memory. In happier days, Hartlin was Draggo's pupil and a confidant to the Grelate's secrets. It had been so long since Hartlin had seen the grelate but he remembered every detail about him.       To the Mauruvian the grelates were their equals but Draggo was different among his kind. True, he shared their elongated face and teeth. Like them, a curly mane grew over his powerful shoulders. Like them, he walked erect. Like them, long side-claws gave him hands instead of paws, allowing him to manipulate objects to his will but - unlike his peers - he did not need permission to read minds: he could read any mind he chose to know whether in friendship or malice.       Hartlin yearned to stroke Draggo's thick white mane once more. He missed the mischievous twinkle in Draggo's eyes as they peered impishly over his snout. It seemed like only yesterday that the aged grelate had hugged him farewell in those powerful arms and shaken his hand with an outstretched paw. Now he was gone, it seemed, along with many others.       A solitary yellow bird hovered in the sky overhead whistling hopefully for a mate. His tune was by no means the best that nature had bestowed on the world but to Hartlin it seemed that an orchestra played and the bird sang the song of hope and rebirth. Hartlin looked at the sky and wondered if Draggo's powdered remains formed part of the shroud. Sadly his eyes returned to the parchment but he felt, somehow, that Draggo was sitting on his haunches beside him with his misty, green eyes glowing eerily as he chanted softly. GeycL

"Hartlin! Son of man, gifted with thought Raised by Grelate and kept safe Wrapped in our love

"I write so the one who will follow me Will know the task vests in him And our history

"From afar, our home in the sky doomed to die We sailed, long ago, full of woe Across the void

"We saw, looking back, the death of our star Omni, blown apart, sick at heart We journeyed on

"Our home, stardust where it shone in the night Our friends, all gone, we carried on Our noble line

"In grief we hid our minds and memories No past, no dreams No origins

"And me, I hide the sadness in my soul Only I still know whence we came And remember

"To Earth, shining blue, brilliant hue A jewel in space, the perfect place For us to dwell

"We found Mauruvian, the birth of man Children so pure but unsure Of their purpose

"For help they turned to us, we had their trust We gave them laws and we saw Their blossom form

"Their faith the Widow stars where Omni shone Worshipped, revered, I spoke not Of our coming

"Then fate. From the Widows the final slight The orb, senseless, relentless Seeking us out

"We choose our doom to sacrifice ourselves To save the men, our children They sleep and wait

"In time, Grelate times two with men times five Will rouse from grave those we save Our final gift

"Radruk! You are the one, our chosen son Tutored and wise, destiny lies Beyond Starag

"Your path, east hid by tree, south to the sea With stars as guide, then with tide And Akoolap…" GeycL

Hartlin sighed and returned the parchments to the tube. "So, it is as I thought. I plant for the future but the future does not belong to me. I pray that Radruk will find his way and perhaps - if it is granted to him - he will help my offspring too."       Generations grew, then passed into the Myth… Davob