approached, or fade back to their own nebulous pasts at the last moment. They were confused, and then forgetful. She was there, and then she was not. The shard of the dead god within was protecting her.
She fell into chasms and was lifted by warm tides. She passed the rearing edifices of the islands of Duntang Archipelago, and avoided their rise towards land. She stumbled through seaweed forests for days, avoided the sharp beaks of decapusesand the poisonous spines of sand spites, and once she saw a deep pirate swimming rapidly away from her. The waving weed fronds rose high above, shifting slowly back and forth to the sea’s beat, which might perhaps have been the pulse of the whole world. But, for her, such musings were rare. She continued to exist because the memory of the dead god Aeon was within her, and rarely did she consider what purpose she might be travelling towards.
She could not count the days. But at some point in her journey she felt the urge to stop for the first time, crawl down among the broken ruins of old ships that had been swept against an undersea cliff by ancient tides, and hide. The sea itself seemed to pause in its constant movements – there were always currents, cool and cold contacts, but now everything was still. She sat silently for a long time. Crawling things investigated her and moved on.
And then something came close.
She never saw what it was, but she felt it, probing at her thoughts with a mind utterly alien and cold. Its presence pervaded the whole area, and she saw several fluorescent fish swimming so hard away from it that they simply died, slowing and sinking to the seabed, their lights fading to nothing. The shape passed close by, sending a heavy, cool wave across and through the piled wrecks. They moved as though unsettled by the massive thing’s presence. It took a long time to drift past, and the sense of size was staggering. Even after it had gone she remained where she was for some time, unsure of exactly who she was or what she was doing anymore.
Then she was moving again, and the memory of her ruined god moved with her.
Much later, when so much time had passed that she could no longer recall the origins of her journey – not then, at least – the sea floor began to rise.
She emergedeventually into sunlight, onto the strange shore of a continent she had never visited before – Alderia. The beach was cracked with spreads of melted, glassy sand, glimmering black in the daylight. Bright blue birds plucked insects from the wing. A slow mammal walked along the beach on four wide feet, not seeming to notice her. Way behind, the horizon glowed with a sickly heat. She was very, very tired, and the world was so far away. She had no wish to see any more.
She found a cave in the cliffs at one end of the beach, its entrance barely exposed even at low tide. It went deep, and so did she.
In that same cave now, she can hear the sea. It is distant, but comforting, a constant that would sound the same one age to the next. And now there is the faintest light as well, bleeding in somewhere and reflecting and refracting through the cave to where she lies. She is all but buried after being there for so long. Even the cave feels new, reshaped around her over time as seasons and years have come and gone, rocks have fallen, and the sea has done its timeless, erosive work.
It will take some time for her to find herself again. Her mouth is moist once more, but her eyes are still gritty and sore. She can feel the weight of slumped organs in her body, though her muscles seem to be reacting to her commands, doing their utmost to obey.
She thinks her god’s name, but Aeon is silent. She probes for it, but there is no response. Perhaps over the time she has been hidden down here, it has faded away to nothing. It was a mere shard of what Aeon had once been, after all.
Some time later, Milian Mu sits up at last.
Chapter 3
adaptations
Venden Uganedropped the cart’s reins and fell upon a
She fell into chasms and was lifted by warm tides. She passed the rearing edifices of the islands of Duntang Archipelago, and avoided their rise towards land. She stumbled through seaweed forests for days, avoided the sharp beaks of decapusesand the poisonous spines of sand spites, and once she saw a deep pirate swimming rapidly away from her. The waving weed fronds rose high above, shifting slowly back and forth to the sea’s beat, which might perhaps have been the pulse of the whole world. But, for her, such musings were rare. She continued to exist because the memory of the dead god Aeon was within her, and rarely did she consider what purpose she might be travelling towards.
She could not count the days. But at some point in her journey she felt the urge to stop for the first time, crawl down among the broken ruins of old ships that had been swept against an undersea cliff by ancient tides, and hide. The sea itself seemed to pause in its constant movements – there were always currents, cool and cold contacts, but now everything was still. She sat silently for a long time. Crawling things investigated her and moved on.
And then something came close.
She never saw what it was, but she felt it, probing at her thoughts with a mind utterly alien and cold. Its presence pervaded the whole area, and she saw several fluorescent fish swimming so hard away from it that they simply died, slowing and sinking to the seabed, their lights fading to nothing. The shape passed close by, sending a heavy, cool wave across and through the piled wrecks. They moved as though unsettled by the massive thing’s presence. It took a long time to drift past, and the sense of size was staggering. Even after it had gone she remained where she was for some time, unsure of exactly who she was or what she was doing anymore.
Then she was moving again, and the memory of her ruined god moved with her.
Much later, when so much time had passed that she could no longer recall the origins of her journey – not then, at least – the sea floor began to rise.
She emergedeventually into sunlight, onto the strange shore of a continent she had never visited before – Alderia. The beach was cracked with spreads of melted, glassy sand, glimmering black in the daylight. Bright blue birds plucked insects from the wing. A slow mammal walked along the beach on four wide feet, not seeming to notice her. Way behind, the horizon glowed with a sickly heat. She was very, very tired, and the world was so far away. She had no wish to see any more.
She found a cave in the cliffs at one end of the beach, its entrance barely exposed even at low tide. It went deep, and so did she.
In that same cave now, she can hear the sea. It is distant, but comforting, a constant that would sound the same one age to the next. And now there is the faintest light as well, bleeding in somewhere and reflecting and refracting through the cave to where she lies. She is all but buried after being there for so long. Even the cave feels new, reshaped around her over time as seasons and years have come and gone, rocks have fallen, and the sea has done its timeless, erosive work.
It will take some time for her to find herself again. Her mouth is moist once more, but her eyes are still gritty and sore. She can feel the weight of slumped organs in her body, though her muscles seem to be reacting to her commands, doing their utmost to obey.
She thinks her god’s name, but Aeon is silent. She probes for it, but there is no response. Perhaps over the time she has been hidden down here, it has faded away to nothing. It was a mere shard of what Aeon had once been, after all.
Some time later, Milian Mu sits up at last.
Chapter 3
adaptations
Venden Uganedropped the cart’s reins and fell upon a
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