Slate slept for two solid days. On his third day in Aislin, he felt rested enough to get out of bed and explore his new location. The Falls had all left the house for the day when he exited the guest room and descended the winding staircase down to the first floor. Entering the kitchen with a yawn, he found a plate of nuts and fruit out on the table. He sat and ate as the rising sun warmed his body through the picture windows on the southeast side of the house.
After breakfast, in the strange suspension of time that occurs in a large, empty building, Slate wandered from room to room, looking at the art on the walls and the various knickknacks and heirlooms that were tucked away into shelves and corners. He followed a tight hallway lined with a family tree of portraits to where it opened up into a library that rose a full two stories. The library ceiling was painted as the evening sky, a dark royal blue in a gradient to light purple, and dotted with tiny, glittering stars.
In the center of the library, a leather-bound atlas the size of Slate’s upper half was spread open on an iron stand, alongside a desk covered with map-making tools and smaller atlases. The huge atlas was opened to a map of a land named Fjird. Slate had never heard of Fjird, nor did he know how to pronounce it. Fjird appeared to have only two cities, the rest of its land dominated by mountain ranges. Slate studied the strange map for a long while, imagining what life must be like in Fjird, a place seemingly more desolate than western Aelioanei.
He carried those thoughts with him back into the kitchen, where he now noticed the pile of dishes in the sink. He decided the pile would be a good place to start his contribution to the housework.
First, Slate leaned out the back door to make sure Pilotte was still there. The wulf stood up when Slate appeared, stronger on his healing ankle than he had been days before.
“They been feeding you, Pilotte?” Slate asked.
The wulf came closer and nuzzle its snout into Slate’s chest.
“Thanks for waiting while I slept, big guy,” Slate said. “I was exhausted! It looks like you got a bath! Did you get a bath?”
Pilotte smiled an open-mouthed pant.
“What good people these Falls are, huh? We got lucky, buddy. Want to come inside while I get some work done?”
Pilotte continued to smile.
“Well, come on then. I’ll get you some more grub.”
Slate gave Pilotte all the meat from the ice box he felt he could without taking too much, which Pilotte made short work of.
“That was it, friend,” said Slate. “Now, I’m going to do some dishes. Mind staying here?”
The giant animal fell on the floor in front of the window and let out a happy sigh.
“That’s the way,” Slate said. “Just hang tight, then we’ll go for a walk later, okay?”
Pilotte was too happy in his sunbeam to answer.
When Slate was finished with the dishes, he moved on to sweeping out the floors. He was starting in the entryway when Mrs. Falls happened to come through the front door.
“Hello, Slate,” she said, surprised to see him up. “What a good guest you are, sweeping the floors.”
Slate diffused the praise, saying, “Oh, it’s the least I can do. I did the dishes, too, and if there’s anything else you may need done while I’m here, please just ask.”
“Well, I’m happy for the help, but you’ll be required to do no more than your fair share of the housework, no more than anyone else,” Mrs. Falls said as she searched for a place to set down the shopping bags she was carrying.
“Let me get those for you,” Slate offered. He took the three brightly colored bags and asked, “Where do these need to end up?
If you’d put them up in the bathroom in my bedroom, that would be perfect,” Mrs. Falls said. “I’ll start on dinner and finish this sweeping. Why don’t you get outside a bit, have a look around? Don’t go too far, though. We don’t want you getting lost again.”
“I wasn’t lost,” Slate said.
“Well. Go ahead up to my room now, and just be back for dinner at seven.”
Slate carried the shopping bags up the staircase and down the hall into the master bedroom, then headed back down the stairs and whistled for Pilotte. The huge animal squeezed through the hallway from the kitchen, and then the two walked out the front door.
Tall grass mixed with rich brown threa that shone bright orange in the late-day sun as Slate made his way down the road through the quiet countryside. He could hear the tinkling sounds of dozens of wind chimes dance across the landscape as the cool breeze made its way south.
Slate was enjoying the scene when a mirage down the way flickered into what first appeared as the form of a person, then nothing. It waved into existence again: it was Arianna. Slate picked up his pace and ran toward her.
“Arianna!” he cried out. “It’s me, Slate!”
“Slate! It’s me, Arianna!” she called back.
Feeling a sharp pang of self-consciousness, Slate slowed his gait in a show of casualness. Arianna giggled at this.
“I was just out taking a walk with Pilotte here and happened to see you on my road,” said Slate.
“So you’ve been here three days and it’s your road now?” Arianna asked.
"No, I..."
"I'm kidding, Slate. Hiya, Pilotte,” Arianna said. She gave the wulf a pet which he seemed to thoroughly enjoy.
“How was school?” Slate asked.
“It was alright. We’re in prehistory right now. Studying the Great Wars, so it has been tolerable lately.”
“Great Wars?”
“Are there any others?”
“No?” Slate guessed.
The three walked for a while in silence, until a breeze stirred up the wind chimes again and broke the quiet.
“What exactly about the Wars were you learning today?” Slate asked.
“Well,” Arianna sighed, “I’m sure you’d like the battles and the armies and stuff, as you are a boy, but today we were talking about my favorite subject: Galienda Veorenza’s Freedom Runners.”
“What about them?”
“So: The time is the first Great War, and the Nuvians are at the Junjut Gate, in the Ojikef Jungle. Outside the gate, there’s a monastery, where a saint named Veorenza is caring for all the wounded soldiers. They're always telling her how they didn’t want to fight and die for politicians, about how they don’t feel any honor or sense of purpose in war. So Veorenza and her sisters begin secretly shuttling away the unwilling soldiers along an underground network of monasteries and Alries. She would tell wild stories to the generals about their capture by slave pirates, or claim they had died. They say she saved thousands of men that way.”
“That is a good story,” Slate agreed. “That woman sounds pretty brave.”
“I love it when the rules are bent for the good guys, you know? I mean, why should the bad ones always get to do whatever they want?"
"Good point."
"I just hope that someday I can have a part in something as romantic or important as that. Have you ever wished, not really, but just as a dream, to see what war would be like?”
Slate asked, “Are you serious?”
“Well, not...”
“What exactly happened here after the Great Hall burned down?” Slate asked. “It seems like everything is fine. Like nothing changed at all.”
“We’ve all been affected by how fast the world is changing, in our own way,” said Arianna. “Our city is being overrun by con artists, from Magri and from South Airyel, even as far away as Proterse. People like Johannes Kale, people like Brella Greave. There’s a battle raging here for hearts and minds. Don’t take a calm countryside to mean that things here are peaceful."
“Oh,” Slate said, kicking at a stone in the road. “I guess I don’t know what I’m talking about. You know, we didn’t hear much of anything about politics, growing up in Alleste.”
“No, I don’t imagine you did. That’s what the pioneers who founded Alleste were looking for. A life apart,” Arianna said.<
br />
“Why?” asked Slate.
“Well, the repopulation of the planet wasn’t going like they wanted. But there’s not really anywhere left to go to start over anymore. Alleste is one of the last untouched places.”
“Repopulation of the planet?”
“After the Fall.”
“What Fall?”
“You don’t know?”
“I don’t suppose I know much of anything, Arianna, apart from farming and hunting.”
“The Fall was a terrible meteor shower that nearly ended all human life on the planet, some four hundred years ago.”
“A meteor shower?”
“That’s when massive pieces of rock fall from the sky.”
Slate looked up apprehensively. “My Gods, really?”
“Yes. Don’t worry, they’re very rare. But nearly everything was lost. Some technology was remembered, which has allowed us to flourish so quickly as to cover the globe again in four centuries, but the event was the worst thing to ever occur in human history. So many lives lost, so much knowledge and history gone.”
“That’s unbelievable. Why didn’t I ever hear about that?”
“The people who first came to Aelioanei did so to maintain a simple way of life, to live off the land. They saw the rapid redevelopment on the continent of Proterse as adverse to humanity’s true way, that the Fall was a chance to start over again that they were ruining. But, eventually, some people of the island started to long for the ease the people in Proterse enjoyed. And so the few who didn’t left for Alleste. To live purely.”
“Well what did they think, they could just ignore the rest of the world forever?”
“I suppose.”
“That’s foolish.”
“To some. To others, maybe not.”
“Wild. Why did my father never tell me any of this?”
“I don’t know. Maybe he wanted to protect you.”
“I would have preferred the truth.”
“Me too. I always prefer the truth.”
“It sounds like something out of the Legend.”
“You know the Legend?” Arianna asked excitedly.
“Oh, absolutely. My mom used to read it to my brother and I before bed, every night,” Slate answered.
“Then you know more than you think. The Legend is actually a mythologized version of the planet’s history.”
“Mythologized?”
“Actual events amplified for poetic effect.”
“Oh. You know, I thought that Veorenza lady sounded familiar. Sounds just like Halita the Wise.”
“Yes, that’s the same story! History is where the Legend got the inspiration for that story.”
“Wow,” Slate said, trying to wrap his head around what he had just learned. “Can you tell me more about the Fall? About history?”
“I’d be happy to, Slate.”
“Thanks, Arianna.”
“I’m happy you like to hear it,” Arianna said. “My mom says I talk too much.”
“Maybe. But you do it so well,” said Slate.
Arianna blushed. “Thank you, Slate.”
By this time, the three had reached the drive to Arianna’s house.
“Hungry for dinner?” Arianna asked.
“Very. I’m sure Pilotte is, too.”
A chandelier decorated with whyres lit the Falls' dining room in a soft glow that glistened off the honey-cured lart and made radiant, golden rings around the tops of glasses. Arianna’s brother, Brit, and her sister, Mart, were home for dinner, which made for what Slate learned was a rare whole-family meal at the Falls house. Slate took a seat and joined with the family in holding hands and listening to Mrs. Falls recite a prayer of thanksgiving. Pilotte was happy to sit in the corner, eating a large plate of all the leftovers Mrs. Falls could clear from the ice box.
“So what do you think of our town so far, Slate?” asked Mrs. Falls.
“Well, I like it,” Slate said, gulping down an entire biscuit in one swallow. “I like your house, and you are all really nice, and, yeah. I like it!”
“I think he’s trying to say he likes it,” said Brit.
“I’m glad,” said Mrs. Falls. “Were you able to make it far, before dinner?”
“Well, I made it a little way, but then I met up with Arianna,” said Slate.
“Oh, I see. Did you two have a nice time?” asked Mrs. Falls. She looked toward Arianna, who was trying to cut a tough bit of lart.
“It was very educational,” Slate answered for her.
“Yes, we did,” Arianna said, giving up on the meat. “Slate wanted to hear about what happened here after the Great Hall burned down.”
“And about the Fall,” said Slate. “I had no idea that had ever happened.”
Brit took the opportunity to offer his own opinion. “Well, let me briefly sum up the last half a year in Aislin for you, Slate: The Great Hall is destroyed and then, hey, that's it! Centuries of tradition? Gone. Where’d they go? Who knows? Then Johannes Kale shows up. Oh, hello, Johannes Kale. What’s that about our way of life? Oh, it’s gonna go too? Okay! What about those ancient texts at the university? Gone. Dissenters? Halo Brandt? All gone. Welcome citizens indentured servitude, our new best friend.”
“Brit, you sound like a fool,” Mart said.
“You’re the fool, Mart,” Brit responded.
“That’s enough!” said Mrs. Falls, silencing her children.
Brit tried to choke back a laugh that got caught in his throat along with a piece of bothel.
“Johannes Kale is the new mayor, right?” asked Slate.
“He’s a politician, Slate, therefore a strake,” said Brit, after taking a drink of water. “He’s from Proterse. He has no idea what the needs of Aislin are. He was appointed mayor in an election that most citizens weren’t even invited to participate in.”
“Brit!” Mrs. Falls said sharply.
“Why is he a strake? What did he do?” asked Slate, too interested to let the subject drop like Mrs. Falls obviously wanted.
“Well, let’s see: the city is financially ruined; probably for good, public funds have all gone missing, Kale appointed his own officials, our outskirts are overrun with criminality… But really, what did he do?” asked Brit.
“Listen!” Mrs. Falls said, slamming her fist onto the table, rattling the plates. “Both of you! I don’t ever want to hear politics at the dinner table!”
“Don’t worry, Mom, we won’t be allowed to speak at all before too long,” said Brit.
“Enough, Brit!” Mrs. Falls said. “Shut your mouth! Only open it again to eat. Politics and digestion do not mix. There is a time and a place for everything, but right now the place is here and the time is for the dinner I worked on for two hours. So let’s just eat and worry about the state of the world later.”
Once the meal concluded and the Falls family had retired to their usual after-dinner activities, Slate took Pilotte outside and decided to try the telescope on the back porch. He made out Obiers Ring in the night sky, and then turned the glass up to the broad moon, which was hovering close to Alm. Its gentle radiance reminded Slate of one of his favorite stories from the Legend, that of the Moon Goddess Baoulemiere.
Arianna came out onto the patio without Slate noticing.
“Oh!” he yelped when he noticed her watching. “Arianna, I’m sorry. You scared me.”
“What are you doing?” Arianna asked.
“Looking at the moon. Have you ever heard the legend of Baoulemiere?”
“I have,” Arianna answered. “But would you tell it to me again?”
“Of course,” Slate said. “You see, the moon, Baoul-em, is a Goddess named Baoulemiere, who is the mother of all Alm’s children. In the days before the Fall, she circled perfectly around the planet in a loving embrace of her creations. However, when the heavens sent down their anger, their weapons hit Baoulemiere by accident. It is for this reason that her path around Alm is distorted. Now, she comes very close to our planet for two months a
year, to try to find her missing children. When she remembers that they have gone missing, she runs away into hiding, and so two months a year one can barely see her. That she can never remember her loss angers her ex-husband, the sea god Alo. He cannot handle the pressure of reflecting so much of Baoulemiere’s misery for two months a year; it makes him rage and seethe to be so close to her grief. And when she is far away, he can't wake himself up. This is the reason behind the tides running to extremes twice a year. Why certain sea routes are impossible to chart, why our shorelines are so changeable."
“You’re good at telling stories, too, Slate,” Arianna said.
“The Legend is easy. It’s the world I’ve always known,” Slate said. “One governed by Gods and stories. And it always made sense. But now I’m learning the world so much different than I thought it was. That destruction really does fall from the sky.”
“Those stories in the Legend still hold the ultimate truths,” Arianna said. “Humanity is confused right now. Still finding our way.”
“I feel like it’s all changing so fast, for me,” Slate said. “A part of me wishes it could all be a dream, that I could wake back up in Alleste tomorrow. I can’t wait to get to Airyel. To talk to my dad.”
“It’s nice to think that the way things were were the best way they could be,” said Arianna. “But maybe we remember things better than they really were.”
Slate nodded and stared at the moon.
“What exactly happened to your dad?” he asked.
“He got injured in a traffic accident,” Arianna said. “Didn’t live much longer afterward.”
“My mom had cidix,” said Slate. “She died when I was five. I can remember some things about her, like her reading us the Legend, and what she looked like. She was pretty. Or, I’m just remembering it that way.”
“I’m sure she was beautiful,” Arianna said.
“You’re really lucky to have your mom, she’s amazing.”
“She is, I know. What about your dad? What is he like?”
“He’s okay, I guess. Actually, he’s a good dad. He cares about my brother and I a lot. Or did. Or, still does. He only left to send back money. But sometimes I wish he had just stayed. I’d rather have had him around than the money. But, I don’t know. It sounds like he found what we needed.”
“You’re going to find him, right?”
“Yes. I don’t have anyone else. I mean, I don’t want to sound ungrateful. He was a good dad. Is. I don’t know.”
“Don’t think you don’t have anyone else, Slate,” said Arianna.
“Oh, I don’t think that,” Slate said. “I’ve got Pilotte, and I’ve got…” Slate started, as he turned to meet Arianna’s gaze and then understood what she had meant.
“I’m really lucky I found you, Arianna.”
“We’re lucky to have found each other, Slate.”
“Maybe we are, huh?”
“Don’t worry, Slate,” Arianna said, trying to stifle a yawn. “You’ll never be alone.”
“Feeling tired? Am I boring you?”
“No, no. I just had a long day. Call it a night?”
“Sounds good, Arianna. Pilotte! Inside or outside tonight?”
The wulf didn’t answer, distracted as he was by digging at a furra hole.
“Outside, I guess,” said Slate.
He started for the door, so that he could open it for Arianna, but she stopped him with a hand on the shoulder. The two looked into each others’ eyes for a moment, and then Arianna folded into Slate, who wrapped his arms around the girl. The moonlight enveloped them in its soft glow, and they breathed together for a while, until the time was right to head inside.
Later that night, as Slate was settling into bed, Mrs. Falls came in to apologize for what had happened at dinner.
“There is no need to apologize, it was delicious!” Slate insisted.
“I mean the arguing, Slate, not the food,” Mrs. Falls said. “It wasn’t very hospitable of Brit to start an argument.”
“I’m not very used to hospitality,” Slate said. “I come from Alleste.”
“Oh, Slate,” Mrs. Falls laughed. “You know, for all you’ve been through, you are one plucky young man.”
“What have I been through?” Slate asked.
“You’ve lost your whole family, Slate. I know that hurts. You can be honest with me.”
“You know, it’s strange,” Slate said. “Earlier this week, I was all alone in my hut in Alleste. And then, a few days ago, I was living in the woods. And I was sad sometimes, very sad. But then I found Pilotte. Now I learn about Johannes Kale, and the Fall… the world is just so… big. So much bigger than just my family and me. So my troubles seem smaller. Does that make any sense, Mrs. Falls?”
“Of course it does, Slate. It is certainly strange how the world can seem so small when you are unaware. And how the world can seem so huge when you realize that we are all bearing the heavy loads of each others’ existence. But nothing negates the reality of what you’ve been through.”
“Yeah, but who hasn’t been through difficult things before?” Slate asked.
“That’s very wise, Slate.” Mrs. Falls said. She thought for a moment. “I bear obligation to my family name, I suppose that's what I struggle with. You see, my maiden name is Aat, which means I am a proud Oognook. My people were the original native inhabitants of Aelioanei. The Aats started the school system on the island. As a teacher, I have a long history and reputation to live up to.”
“I’m so worried about my own family,” Slate confessed to Mrs. Falls.
“What about, exactly?” she asked, taking a seat on the edge of Slate’s bed.
“All sorts of things. I’m worried about my brother,” Slate said. “We haven’t heard from him since he left. I'm worried I might not find my father. Or that I won’t like it in Airyel if I do. Anyways, I’m sure you’re a good teacher, you don’t have to worry about your reputation,” Slate said. “I mean, Arianna’s so smart.”
“Well thank you,” Mrs. Falls said. “It’s been hard work with her. Talk about fighting your heritage. That girl has the most independent spirit, Slate. She always has.”
“I really like her,” Slate said softly, as he felt his eyelids starting to get heavy.
“She likes you too, Slate,” Mrs. Falls said. “I can tell.”
Slate yawned and smiled, obviously fighting a losing battle against sleep.
“Just so you know, Slate, you can stay here as long as you’d like,” Mrs. Falls said, pulling an extra blanket up from the foot of the bed.
Slate murmured happily and nodded on his pillow.
“I’ll take that as understood. Good night, Slate Ahn,” Mrs. Falls said. She blew out the bedside candle and made her way to the door. Just as she was about to close it she stopped at the jamb. “We’re here for you, Slate,” she said. “You don’t ever have to worry that you’re alone.”
Chapter 6