Over the tops of the trees, the mindtether billowed up and out of the tip of the pyre in all its ruby glory. The great blossom of Artwork filaments appeared as tight curls that snaked up high, then back down again to various individuals. There were some fuzzier columns of light that jumped out to the town’s main buildings, each which housed smaller crystals. And if June concentrated, she could suss out the subtle crisscrossing beams that rainbowed out to other towns. Her own filament—graduated now from a wisp to a nice sturdy rope—was an oddball blue strand in the tangle of red, losing its azure hue and melting into the fray the farther it arced away from her.
June waited until she was about fifteen minutes outside of town before making contact. No one seemed social enough to reach out first, though she was sure they had picked up on her well before now. She made no effort to hide her crystals from the communal stone as she walked closer.
She sharpened her thoughts and packaged her name, Sect and a general greeting into a shard. She projected a smile and friendly curiosity into it as well, and addressed it to the town at large. A little pulse of energy zipped back and forth between her crystals, waiting for her to tell it what to do next. She thought about it for a moment, and replaced ‘friendly curiosity’ with more of a ‘friendly concern,’ adding an image of a blazing pyre to the mix.
Satisfied, she let the shard fly up and along her blue strand.
It took some time, but eventually they got back to her. It was a sleepy little place, it seemed. However, the returning shard carried a tone of nervous enthusiasm, mixed with some guarded optimism: «Welcome to Wood Ribbon South, Chillcrafter! If it’s to your convenience, Torchminder Viktor Velessi would very much appreciate an audience concerning some recent, ah, excitement around these parts.»
«Of course, I shall see them right away,» she replied.
«Excellent, thank you, and welcome again. An envoy will meet you at the west pavilion.»
Now that she was officially in touch with them, Junelight keyed into the communal stone directly and requested a mindmap of the village layout. The stone was prompt.
Wood Ribbon South was uninteresting and tiny. From above, it was a circle with the temple in the middle. The road she walked entered from due west and ran straight to the temple, widening into a big circle so that any traffic could route around the structure. The road leading out (and toward the former bridge) exited southeast. East-southeast, if she was being picky. Tiny residences fanned out in the area south of the road. North of the temple was the community hall: the main administrative structure. The feasting hall was northeast, and what seemed to be a recreational area took up most of the northwest.
Further north, the forest was young, unnaturally sparse and very ordered: a tree farm. Deep in this farm was the wood bay, the town’s final large structure. It by far had the strongest connection to the temple. It was their centre of industry.
A stark treeline comprised the rest of the town border, it was watched over by a semi-circle of tall steelbarch trees that grew some hundred-odd paces into the woods.
All this imprinted in June’s mind, and the communal stone continued to offer to transmit scents, textures—even some tastes—if she was so inclined to sample. Evidently, this part of the world was fairly trusting and open. And why not? They were deep in the Roythan-controlled Callipsus, protected by two tall mountain ranges and one of the most powerful cities on the continent.
Not for the first time, she wondered why Plasivé had chosen to scurry into this particular net. What was xe plotting? Nothing was an accident with The Poacher.
“You’re almost there,” she reminded herself, before dismal, screaming thoughts could catch her. She was also almost at the pavilion. She could now hear the faint sounds of the town: a carried voice, an echoing thump, and now, a quiet hum.
The flat, atonal sound grew, and a primitive Roythan transport thrummed around the bend. The road was wide, and the ovaloid disc gave her space as it floated by. It did slow as it passed her, as its trio of passengers did a double take at the blue clothed figure making her way into town.
Then the bend straightened out, and she could see the west pavilion. It was a simple square gazebo, topped with a decorative pyramid canopy that resembled a ready-to-be-lit bonfire. A symbolic pyre. It was built into the path like a bridge would be, except the ‘river’ in this case was the town’s treeline border. Someone—her envoy, she supposed—leapt down off a railing and stood waiting.
It was a young girl, maybe seven or eight, likely too young to even have her birthright crystal. Indeed, when June searched, there was no telltale strand linking her to the communal stone. Junelight stopped a few paces from the youngster, curious.
The tiny envoy had fine blonde hair, rife with static. It stuck out every which way. She wore a deep brown one-piece jumper, baggy and cinched at the waist with a bright white belt. She bowed, head almost hitting the ground, errant locks sticking to the dirt.
Junelight waited until the girl straightened before performing a more modest incline of her head.
“Hello!” said the envoy. She sucked in a little breath and said, with great care, “I am Zoey-Lee Vetteris, of Roythan birthright by parental appointment. I follow the Torch, and seek to soulbind my crystal in the light of the Communal Stone of Wood Ribbon South, in the Callipsus Deepforest, of the Firelock Region of Royth.”
So very proper, thought June. She hadn’t given her formal address in quite some time, but it flowed from her with fluid, routine ease, as it did with any learned person.
“Well met Zoey-Lee Vetteris. I am Junelight Re’sha, of Culdurian birthright by parental appointment. I soulbound my first crystal in the light of the Communal Stone of the Fosterly Isles, and my second in the light of the High Temple Stone of Brosse Isle, in the Worldspun Archipelago of Culdur.”
“No way,” said Zoey-Lee, bug eyed. “You went around the other side of the world?”
