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the-northkingdoms · 3 years

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Chapter 8

Ganlin woke up breathing heavily, his dreams haunting him.

After the wizard expelled him from the temple, the rest of Ganlin’s sleep was dominated by short nightmares that meant nothing to him. Quick flashes of things he struggled to remember upon waking, only capable of remembering the terror that had filled him within each and every one.

He started to get up, but quickly collapsed as pain danced fiercely across his back, making Ganlin groan. Ganlin took a deep breath and collected himself, then he grit his teeth and tried again, being able to push himself up enough to get his knees underneath him and switch to a kneeling position instead as he caught his breath and tried to recover from the pain his movement caused.

The pain from his collision with the tree had become long forgotten, wiped away from his mind by the sharp pains of the new wounds that scored across his back. With a cautious hand he reached forward and touched the top edge of one of the wounds, pulling his hand back with a hiss right after he touched it. His hand came away with a small spot of thickened blood, meaning the wounds would be scabbing up soon enough.

A sharp knock came to the door, and the guards came through a second later as Ganlin was trying to get from his knees to his feet.

“Come on, get a move one.” One of them said as each grabbed him by an arm, manacled him and took him to the courtyard. As they made their way Ganlin was able to get his feet properly beneath him and start walking on his own.

Ganlin was chained in with the other prisoners, and he could hear some of them laughing behind him. Ganlin kept staring forward as the group began moving down.

Walking was unexpectedly easy, as long as he tried to keep his movement entirely in his legs rather than his back, the wounds were not agitated too much.

Ganlin felt something wet on his shoulder, making him recoil as it hit him. He turned his head around to see a prisoner behind him to his left smirking at him. Ganlin looked down towards his shoulder to see spit running down his skin. Ganlin felt his anger rising, but stuffed it down. There was nothing to be done.

They made it to the floor of the quarry, and Ganlin was given his pickaxe and sent off to work on a section of rock along with the other prisoners. Ganlin went over to part of the rock and raised his pick above his head, then almost collapsed as he swung it down into the rock.

The movement of his back from the swing stretched out his wounds, making the pain rear its head like some hideous beast. Ganlin took a moment to catch his breath, then grit his teeth and began his second swing.

The day trundled on slowly, like an old shenjaw that was out of the water. The sun got high, and it was an unusually warm day, causing Ganlin to start sweating. The moisture running into his wounds made them sting, but Ganlin fought the pain as viciously as he could, turning it into energy he could use for striking down at the rocks.

A cold splash landed on Ganlin, right on top of his head.

He turned around to see if someone else had spit at him, but noone was close enough to him to be able to hit him like that. Another spot of wetness landed on him, this time on his shoulder.

Ganlin looked up in bewilderment. Above him was a thin, dark cloud. Another drop of water came from the sky and landed on his forehead. Ganlin stared up at the sky in amazement as more and more drops came down. He had heard tales of such a thing, occurring on the coast of Ank’har. What was it called again?

It didn’t matter. The water felt wonderful to Ganlin, it was a near holy experience as he felt it more drops come down and land on him, rolling down his skin. It was a wondrous sight, a wondrous feeling.

A whip cracked across the stone just next to Ganlin, making him snap his eyes open and turn to the guard who was standing before him, sneering with their whip in hand.

“What’s wrong, foreigner? Never seen some rain before? Get back to work before I make you.”

Rain. It’s called rain.

Ganlin turned back to the rock and continued mining, his spirits lifted by the rain. Ganlin mumbled the word to himself.

“Rain.”

It was a fun word to say, and Ganlin thought it perfectly represented how the rain made him feel. It was a good word, even from the mouth of a sneering guard. Ganlin enjoyed the sound of it. Just thinking about it calmed him somehow, gave him the strength to push through the pain his back was in, and just keep mining.

As the day drew on, the sky got darker, and the drops of rain got heavier. The guards kept the prisoners working as usual though, and Ganlin didn’t mind. The air was getting colder, and Ganlin felt himself shivering, but he didn’t care, he enjoyed the rain too much. Something about it was just so magical. Even the sound it made as it hit the stone was beautiful to Ganlin. Water had always been something precious to him, he was Ank’haran, after all. It’s not like he had never seen water before, the clans always planned their movements around the Osae-lakes so that they could collect any water that they may have needed for the animals.

Still though, something about the rain just felt so… inexplicably precious to Ganlin. That was the only way he could think of it. It was as if his entire life in Ank’har was missing something, and that thing was the rain, falling from the sky.

Eventually, the foreman called for everyone to stop their work, and Ganlin was being chained up with all the other prisoners.

The rain kept falling in fat, steady drops as the guards began leading them up the ramp and back into the prison walls. The ground was slippery from the water, and for once the ascent was slow, the guards not wanting to risk injury by forcing prisoners to move any faster than they already were.

Ganlin kept looking up at the sky, having to throw his head back from time to time to flick his wet hair away from his eyes so he could stare up at the mesmerising sky, darkened by the grey and black clouds that blocked out the sunlight. He savoured the way each drop splashed across his skin.

Then he almost tripped.

There was a foot stuck out in front of him, and Ganlin almost fell over as he just managed to step over it, stumbling forward and almost slipping on the wet rocks as he managed to right himself up again. His movements echoed throughout the procession, putting their movement to a halt as all the prisoners swayed before finding their footing again.

The guards gave the group a collective glare before one of them said “Careful with it.” and everyone got moving again.

Ganlin looked to his right at the prisoner who tried tripping him, but the prisoner kept their eyes straight ahead, not meeting Ganlin’s gaze. His glance at that prisoner almost cost him as the prisoner on the other side of him tried to trip him while he was distracted. Ganlin came even closer to tripping, and the impact on the whole group was even more extreme. None of the prisoners fell, but it took some time for the group to be in a position to keep moving again. The guards sounded agitated as they yelled for the group to keep moving. People were beginning to whisper and look towards Ganlin, all of them knowing that he was the one who fell, but not knowing the reason why.

A few more steps, and another foot. Ganlin was prepared for that one, and stepped over it without issue. He wasn’t, however, expecting the person chained in front of him to stop mid stride, making Ganlin ram into their back. The impact sent them stumbling forward as Ganlin fell back over the opposite direction, his back smashing against the sharp rocks.

As the prisoners fell over into each other, some of them started shouting at and pushing each other, making all the other prisoners even more agitated.

The group fell into pandemonium as prisoners started attacking those that fell into them, guards started attacking prisoners, and some prisoners began trying to break free of their chains while the guards were distracted, eager to make a run for freedom.

Ganlin was yanked back up to his feet as the whole group shifted, and was greeted by a fist swinging towards his face. He ducked out of the way, just avoiding tripping by bouncing off the back of somebody behind him, and shoulder checked the person who swung at him. The two of them almost fell down, but the chains ran out of slack before they could, causing Ganlin to land on top of the other prisoner, both of them suspended above the ground.

Ganlin’s foe began swinging their arms down at Ganlin’s back, making him scream in pain as the metal cuffs bashed into his back wounds.

Ganlin, desperately trying to use what little arm movement he had to punch the enemy in the torso, lunged forward in a frantic move and bit into his enemy’s shoulder. Ganlin heard him scream as the mob of prisoners moved again, pulling Ganlin away and into the chest of someone else entirely. Ganlin slipped and fell over, his movement inhibited by the chains, but before he could hit the ground somebody picked him up and put one of their arms around his neck, trying to choke him.

As Ganlin struggled against the attack by throwing his elbows back into the torso of the brute, another prisoner ran towards Ganlin, their intent to attack clearly written on their face.

Ganlin threw up his leg to kick them away, but forgot that his legs were kept together by the manacles around his ankles. The complete misallocation of his centre of balance made him fall again, taking many of the people around him down with him.

Ganlin was at the bottom of a heap of bodies that were all kicking, grabbing, and punching. Ganlin did what he could to defend himself from the brawl by drawing his legs closer to his chest and pushing away any hostile limbs that came too close to him.

The noise was near unbearable; a constant roaring of voices that was smothered by the press of bodies on Ganlin. There was shouting, screaming, the smack of people hitting each other and of people falling hard against the rocky ground. All Ganlin could do was focus on breathing as he swung out at anyone who was reaching for him, trying to proactively protect himself from any attacks. A stray elbow came back and smacked into Ganlin’s left eye, stunning him. Someone was punching his legs. His back was in an unspeakable amount of pain, and he could feel himself starting to become dizzy, almost as though he had stood in the hot sands of Ank’har without shade or water for too long.

Suddenly, the pressure on his chest was easing. The sounds of the brawl were dying down. The person above Ganlin was suddenly lifted and cold drops of rain landed on Ganlin’s face. People were picking him up, too. He couldn’t put together who, a guard, maybe. As Ganlin was pulled further and further, he realized that his chains had been broken, and the prisoners were disconnected from each other. Ganlin still felt dizzy. Tired, too. It was hard for him to concentrate, to piece together any thoughts that made sense. His head hurt. He was dizzy. He fell asleep.

Ganlin was consumed by pain the very moment he awoke. He was laid down on his back, the tender skin rubbing against the ground. Dirt, he thought. After the pain, he felt raindrops against his skin; it was still raining. How could the sky contain so much water? He cleared the thought from his head and tried to concentrate on his current situation. He opened his eyes to try and get a sense of his surroundings, but his left eye was swollen, making it difficult to see through it. With his right eye he could tell that it was night time, and that he was outside. His limbs were bound together in chains, preventing him from moving anything other than his head. He turned it to look in one direction and saw the main gate of the prison, confirming that he was in Silvirtharn’s front courtyard. Turning his head the other way, Ganlin saw he wasn’t the only one in his position; five other prisoners were chained up on the ground, the six of them forming a line outside the front door to the main building.

Past the prisoners, Ganlin saw a group of guards erecting a tall wooden pole. Ganlin’s heart trembled at the side of it, his dread rising as it was fully put up and some guards came over to the lined up group of prisoners and grabbed the one that was farthest away from Ganlin. The two guards lifted up the prisoner and dragged them over, chaining them to the pole the same way they did with Ganlin. After tying him, the guards stood back and waited, watching the prisoner writhe as they woke up and tried to get out of their bindings.

The prisoner’s cries were silenced when the door to the prison opened and a group of people walked through it into the courtyard. Ganlin recognized three of the six people as the prison’s highest ranking officials; the foreman, the captain of the guard, and the warden. The others Ganlin couldn’t see clearly enough in the darkness to even know if he recognized them. The tallest one of those Ganlin didn’t recognize was holding a small box of something, and they seemed to be taking great care with it; something precious was clearly stored inside. The group was led by the captain of the guard to the main gate, where they stopped and talked for a few more brief moments before the door was opened and the strange half of the group walked out.

The three leaders of Silvirtharn spoke in low, hushed tones as they walked back across the courtyard, the foreman and warden heading inside while the captain of the guard stayed outside.

Once the door to the prison closed, the captain turned and strode towards the pole, stopping a few strides away. A guard walked up to the captain and provided them with a whip. The captain spoke as they worked upon unraveling it.

“After today’s incident in the quarry, each prisoner who had remained conscious was questioned about the event. Many of them pointed to you as having been one of the main aggressors. For your involvement in this, and your attacks against the other prisoners. You shall receive fifteen lashes.”

The ship cracked through the air the second the captain finished their sentence. Ganlin closed his good eye and turned away as the whip struck the prisoner’s back. Ganlin tried to ignore it, attempting to focus on anything else that he could instead; the way the hard ground felt on his back, how much each of wounds hurt, the fact that his left leg was itchy and no matter how he tried to contort his body the chains wouldn’t allow him to reach enough to scratch it. He tried to tune out the sounds of the whip and listen to the rain instead, but that did nothing but make the prisoner’s cries even more noticeable.

Time dragged on slowly, and dread gripped Ganlin’s body tighter and tighter as the guards went down the line and grabbed the prisoner’s for their punishment. The harshness of the punishment became more severe with how involved the prisoners were with what had happened in the quarry. The first prisoner received fifteen lashes, then the number went up to twenty, then twenty-five, thirty, thirty-five. At one point during one prisoner’s whipping, the captain of the guard had to stop to take a break, remarking that their arm was growing tired.

Ganlin’s head had become a dark pit of nothingness when the guards finally picked him up, dragging him towards the wooden pillar and tying his wrists above it. To a degree, it didn’t even feel real to Ganlin, it was almost like he was floating or in a dream, merely watching it happen rather than experiencing it.

“After today’s events in the quarry, each prisoner that was still conscious afterwards was questioned concerning the event.” The captain said, reciting what they had said to each prisoner before. “There were a few conflicting recollections of what had happened, as is natural, however all of them point to one immutable fact. That fact is that you were the prisoner responsible for it all, being careless with where you stepped, causing the near-falls of the group, and becoming aggressive when those near you became frustrated with carelessness.”

Ganlin wasn’t listening, choosing instead to focus on the sound of the rain against the ground and against the wood of the pole, desperate to keep his thoughts away from what was about to happen.

“As punishment for being the main cause of the brawl that happened today, you shall receive forty lashes, and be subjected to the pit for two days.”

Pit? Ganlin had never heard mention of any pit? What was the pit?

Thoughts were destroyed as the first lash hit his back, scattering his thoughts into oblivion as the strike undid any healing his other wounds may have managed. Ganlin grit his teeth through the second. Screamed at the third. Was crying by the seventh. Fell unconscious at the twelfth.

-End of Chapter 8-

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#my writing #creative writing #fantasy #fantasy writing #sword and sorcery #new chapter #chapter eight #chapter 8 #ganlin #northkingdoms #web series #writeblr #weekly #weekly writing

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i-hls · 4 years

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הכטב"ם הסיני החדש ביצע בהצלחה משימה אקולוגית

סין הפעילה כלי טיס בלתי מאויש גדול לצורך הגנה אקולוגית. הכטב"ם נועד לייצר משקעים מלאכותיים במחוז Gansu שבצפון מערב סין. טיסתו של ה-Ganlin-1 (שפירושו 'גשם מתוק' בסינית) מסמנת את השקתה של מערכת שינוי מזג אוויר מבוססת כלי טיס בלתי מאוישים. במהלך טיסת הבכורה שארכה 40 דקות, הכטב"ם ביצע איתור אטמוספרי

https://i-hls.com/he/archives/106455

#כטב"ם GANLIN-1 #משקעים מלאכותיים #סין #חדשות #חדשות טכנולוגיה #ידיעות וידאו #כלי טיס בלתי מאויש #מוצרים חדשים

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the-writing-owl · 3 years

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Chapter 8 of my series on my other account is out! Take a look at that if you want

Sorry for like saying absolutely nothing here! I’m bad at social media and I’ve been a pretty busy bee so it’s been hard to find time!

#reblog #writing #writing community #creative writing #ganlin #northkingdoms #my writing

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aliworldtrade · 3 years

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petfilho · 4 years

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O arriscado plano da China de 'semear nuvens' em mais da metade de seu território

O governo chinês vem usando programas de manipulação do clima há anos e, em dezembro passado, deu um passo além. Mas a iniciativa gerou preocupação em países vizinhos em meio às incertezas sobre o impacto dessa tecnologia no delicado clima regional. Campo de arroz em Taiwan: sob um céu azul com nuvens, um campo alagado refletindo a paisagem Getty Images via BBC Pequim é uma das cidades mais poluídas do mundo, mas quando acontece uma reunião política importante ou um evento de relevância internacional o céu fica limpo, azul, e a luz volta à cidade. E isso não é coincidência. O governo chinês vem usando programas de manipulação do clima há anos e, em dezembro do ano passado, deu um passo além: anunciou sua meta de expandir substancialmente sua capacidade operacional nessa área. A China planeja expandir seu programa de chuva e neve artificial para cobrir 5,5 milhões de quilômetros quadrados até 2025, quase 60% de seu território (quase três vezes o México). A iniciativa gerou preocupação em países vizinhos, como a Índia, em meio às incertezas sobre o impacto dessa tecnologia e tensões regionais. Três objetivos O governo elaborou um guia, anunciado em 2 de dezembro, para o desenvolvimento e expansão do programa de manipulação do clima. Três objetivos específicos foram estabelecidos: O primeiro é que até 2025 “a área afetada pelas operações para aumentar a chuva artificial (ou neve) alcance mais de 5,5 milhões de quilômetros quadrados”. O governo também quer, até a mesma data, que “a área protegida por operações de prevenção de granizo chegue a mais de 580 mil km²”. O terceiro objetivo é que “em 2035 um ‘nível avançado geral’ seja alcançado por meio da inovação em pesquisas e tecnologias essenciais, bem como uma ‘prevenção abrangente de riscos de segurança'”. Diversas províncias usam a semeadura de nuvens para tentar proteger suas plantações Getty Images via BBC O programa, afirma o comunicado, ajudará no socorro a desastres, produção agrícola, resposta a incêndios em florestas e pastagens, bem como na gestão de altas temperaturas ou secas incomuns, embora não forneça muitos detalhes sobre isso. “O governo central definirá o quadro geral enquanto os diferentes ministérios e governos locais desenvolverão medidas concretas, geralmente recebendo generosos financiamentos”, explica o jornalista Yitsing Wang, da BBC em Pequim. Wang cita, por exemplo, o caso da província de Gansu (no norte), que “anunciou metas imediatamente” a partir da estratégia centrada no uso de drones. Foi em Gansu que a China lançou seu programa de modificação do clima baseado em drones capazes de causar chuvas, com o vôo inaugural do Ganlin-1 (“chuva doce”), segundo a agência de notícias oficial do governo. Semeando nuvens Mas a chamada “semeadura de nuvens” não é uma tecnologia nova. “Muitos países usam essa tecnologia [semeadura de nuvem]. A China já usa há muito tempo, a Índia também usa. Também se usa a técnica na África subsaariana e no nordeste do continente asiático, onde há muitas secas problemáticas. Na Austrália também”, explica Dhanasree Jayaram, especialista em clima na Academia Manipal de Educação Superior em Karnataka, Índia. No entanto, diz Jayaram, a escala dos projetos existentes não é tão grande quanto o plano de Pequim. A semeadura de nuvens consiste na pulverização de compostos químicos como o iodeto de prata nas nuvens — as partículas das substâncias funcionam como núcleo de condensação para o vapor, gerando chuva. As primeiras pesquisas sobre a técnica começaram no final da década de 1940, principalmente nos Estados Unidos. Mas ainda existem grandes questionamentos sobre esse método. A técnica é usada há muitos anos no mundo todo Getty Images via BBC “Foi desenvolvida sem ter passado por nenhum tipo de validação científica”, explica John C. Moore, cientista-chefe da Faculdade de Ciências do Sistema Terrestre e Mudanças Globais da Universidade Normal de Pequim. “Ainda hoje cientistas especializados em aerossóis na China, que fazem experimentos com aviões e coisas assim, dizem que é um assunto pouco conhecido, que é feito no dia a dia sem uma pesquisa científica completa”, afirma ele, que também lidera o programa de geoengenharia da China. No país asiático, a manipulação do clima por meio da semeadura de nuvens é uma espécie de “questão operacional”, acrescenta o especialista. “Não é um exercício de pesquisa ou qualquer coisa remotamente científica. É basicamente feito em nível comunitário, em cidades e vilas”, diz ele. Uma das práticas da China mais conhecidas internacionalmente está relacionada a grandes eventos — o governo faz a semeadura de nuvens antes, e a chuva deixa o céu limpo. Nesses casos específicos, no entanto, o fechamento de fábricas também costuma entrar em jogo para reduzir a poluição. Proteção contra o granizo Moore afirma que 50 mil municípios chineses praticam a semeadura de nuvem regularmente para evitar danos às suas plantações. “Basicamente, [trata-se] de tentar evitar que tempestades de granizo destruam as plantações, então você tenta ‘tirar’ a chuva das nuvens antes que ela se torne muito perigosa”, afirma. Mas a semeadura de nuvens só funciona efetivamente no país por um ou dois meses por ano, diz ele. Em dezembro passado, a revista científica New Scientist fez um artigo sobre uma pesquisa recente que apontou que a semeadura de nuvens pode aumentar a precipitação, mas o aumento é inferior a 10%. Quem é o dono da chuva? As dúvidas sobre essa técnica não impediram a China de investir nela, o que alimenta as preocupações dos países vizinhos em um momento de crescentes disputas entre o gigante asiático e outros países. “Um dos temores de que essa tecnologia seja aplicada massivamente na China é de que ela tenha um impacto nas monções de verão na Índia, que também são fundamentais para toda a região”, diz Dhanasree Jayaram. O especialista acredita que esse tipo de anúncio poderia ter passado despercebido se a relação entre os dois países estivesse em um momento melhor. Mas tensões fronteiriças, com diversos confrontos entre soldados dos dois países, aumentaram o sentimento anti-chinês na Índia. Taiwan também está alarmada Pesquisadores da Universidade Nacional de Taiwan afirmaram, em artigo publicado em 2017, que a falta de coordenação nas atividades de manipulação do clima pode levar a acusações de “roubo de chuva” entre países vizinhos. Ainda não há evidências científicas para apoiar esse tipo de acusação, diz Moore, mas as monções asiáticas dependem de um equilíbrio delicado. “Um dos impulsionadores das monções é a diferença de temperatura entre o planalto tibetano e o Oceano Índico. Então, se você fizesse alterações significativas no planalto tibetano, poderia ter um efeito bastante drástico”, afirma. Há um plano de engenheiros chineses para realizar um projeto de semeadura de nuvens em grande escala em todo o planalto tibetano, embora esta iniciativa não tenha apoio nacional. “É como um bando de construtores sem treinamento construindo uma nave espacial copiando Elon Musk ou algo assim, sem o trabalho de base (…) A maioria dos cientistas chineses com quem trabalho ficam horrorizados com essa abordagem”, diz Moore. Mas a maior preocupação na região vai além da semeadura de nuvens e se concentra na possibilidade de a China implementar tecnologias de geoengenharia mais ambiciosas, como o gerenciamento ou controle da radiação solar, sem consultar outros países. Isso é problemático especialmente quando as relações passam por um momento tenso, aponta Dhanasree Jayaram. “Não acho que a tecnologia em si seja alarmante. Pode ser útil. E cada um tem soberania no seu território. Mas o problema surge quando você faz unilateralmente algo que afeta outros países. O que acontece, por exemplo, se algo dá errado com esse tipo de tecnologia, quem vai pagar?”, questiona. Os especialistas consideram urgente estabelecer uma agência internacional para regular essas práticas e possíveis conflitos. VÍDEOS:

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shannonsketches · 9 months

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I crave more Ganline

#Sorry I couldn’t not jfjdjdjdj #silly hours #they’ll come up again I promise

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drones2day · 4 years

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The Rain Maker: China's Ganlin-1 Large UAV Patrols, Seeds the Skies

The Rain Maker: China’s Ganlin-1 Large UAV Patrols, Seeds the Skies

China deployed a large UAV din early January for generating artificial precipitation in northwest China’s Gansu Province, with the aim of boosting ecological protection. The flight of Ganlin-1 (“sweet rain” in Chinese) marks the launch of a UAV-based weather-modification system. During its 40-minute inaugural flight, Ganlin-1 conducted atmospheric detection and catalyst spreading to generate…

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#DroneNews #Drones #DronesToday

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eatsatreat · 4 years

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Trung Quốc thử nghiệm máy bay tạo mưa

Máy bay Ganlin 1 là thiết bị bay không người lái tạo mưa đầu tiên đi vào hoạt động hôm 6/1 tại tỉnh Cam Túc.

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the-northkingdoms · 3 years

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CHAPTER 10

AN: Here it is, chapter 10! Thank you all so much for the continued support of this blog, I really do appreciate it more than I could ever convey. I hope you all enjoy this one!

Ganlin held on to the stranger’s hand tightly as they pulled him along, sticking to the shadows along the wall surrounding the courtyard.

Ganlin’s hairs stood on end as he was pulled along. His heart was beating so hard Ganlin was worried that a guard might hear it. The sky was clear, with all three moons high above, their lunar light shining down onto the world.

The stranger stopped, and Ganlin followed suit.

They had followed the walls up to the main gate, freedom laying on the other side. On either side of the gate were two doors, facing opposite each other, both shut. Ganlin’s heartbeat picked up as the stranger kept him in place, the waiting making him more nervous.

Eventually, a group of guards came from the main keep and walked through one of the doors. When the door closed, the stranger led Ganlin to right next to the door. A few minutes later, the door opened again, a different trio of guards coming out, all talking to each other.

Ganlin’s arm was pulled sharply as the stranger dragged him through the door before it could close, somehow evading the attention of all three of the guards.

Inside the wall, the stranger led Ganlin up a flight upstairs and to another door, this one slightly ajar. Just wide enough for someone to slip through, Ganlin thought.

The stranger pulled him along, and Ganlin shimmied through the narrow opening.

They were on the top of the wall, now, and all along it, guards stood. Each guard stood facing inwards, looking down on the courtyard to insure that no prisoner was escaping, from time to time looking over the other side of the wall, to see if anyone was approaching the prison.

The stranger led Ganlin in a straight line, waiting for guards to cross from one side of the wall to the other before moving forward.

Once they were close to one of the corners, the stranger stopped again, speaking to Ganlin in a low whisper, their voice very close to his ear.

“Do you have any experience in climbing, Ank’haran?”

Ganlin shook his head; Ank’hara was mostly sand dunes, meaning one didn’t have to climb very often, if at all. Some areas of the desert had large rocks that stood out from the sand, but Ganlin had never climbed them as he had simply never seen a reason to.

“If you’re trying to answer without speaking, Ank’haran, I can’t see it. Speak.” The stranger spoke again.

Remebering that the stranger’s strange concoction had made Ganlin’s body disappear, he spoke in as low a whisper as he could manage.

“No. I never had to before.”

The stranger said something that Ganlin thought was probably an expletive of some kind.

“Alright, well. You can’t see me, so you can’t follow my lead, but I’ll do my best to guide you before we start going down.”

The stranger moved his hand to a certain part of the wall. “I’ll climb down first, you wait a couple seconds and then start moving down as well. Start off with your left hand right where I have it now, then swing your legs over, and put your right hand here.” The stranger slid his hand down to a different part of the wall. “Then let yourself fall off the wall without letting go of it. Move your feet around a bit and you should be able to find parts of the wall that stick enough for you to place them. Maybe look before you start coming down, see if you can notice any ahead of time. Then move your hands as far down as you can. One at a time, of course. Then move your legs again, and keep doing that until you’re back on the ground. If you need to, you can probably jump once you’re about halfway down the wall, just try to roll as you hit the ground. Good luck.”

With those words, Ganlin felt the stranger let go of his hand, and heard the subtle sound of scraping stone as they began making their way down the wall.

Ganlin waited a few seconds, then took a deep breath as he followed the strangers instructions, grabbing two different parts of the wall and swinging his legs over. His body hung in the air as Ganlin swung his legs around, trying to find a place to put his feet.

Eventually his feet scraped against a part of the wall that stuck out from the rest of it. Ganlin settled his weight onto it, then reached down with one of his hands to look for another spot.

Ganlin’s descent was achingly slow, finding places to put his feet and hands was difficult, at times Ganlin would begin settling his weight on one part of the wall, but then he would feel it shift, and he’d have to pull back from it and find a different perch. Bit by bit, Ganlin managed to make his way farther down the wall, letting himself drop when he was about half his height away from the ground. Once he landed, the stranger spoke again.

“You made it? Good. Now head for the tree line, directly in front of us.”

Ganlin did as he was told, crouching as he snuck forward to the trees.

Hiding behind one of them, Ganlin let out a large sigh of relief as he sagged against the wood. All of the muscles in Ganlin’s body softened as he allowed himself to rest, he unclenched his jaw, having never realized he had begun clenching it at any point.

He was out. Free from Silvirtharn. His body began shaking as he felt a smile come to his face. He almost laughed, stopping himself so he didn’t reveal himself.

Freedom was his! He still had to deal with whatever the stranger you saved him wanted, but he was finally free from Silvirtharn, and would finally be able to make good on his oath to Madelna and the other peoples of that small village. Ganlin tried to run his hand through his hair, but misjudged where his hand was, poking himself in the eye.

“Ow!”

As he gently rubbed his eye better, Ganlin heard the swishing of some of the grass. The stranger spoke to him.

“Are you here, Ank’haran?”

They asked.

“Yes, I am. Thank you for your help.” Ganlin replied.

The space in front of Ganlin shimmered and smoked, the air peeling itself back around itself to reveal the stranger.

Ganlin’s guess was confirmed; it was one of the strangers he had seen. They stood at about half a head taller than Ganlin, and their face had soft features, with a nose that gently sloped back up towards the sky. They wore robes that were tightly bound over the rest of their clothes. A necklace of strange objects hung around their neck.

“Your thanks are unnecessary, Ank’haran. Follow me, my master would like to speak with you, and we can tend to your wounds at our camp.”

The thought of not following flashed across Ganlin’s mind, but his wounds did ache, and it would be easier to travel if they were healed, so he followed the stranger.

They made their way through the forest, the trees blocking out most of the moonlight, Ganlin following the stranger’s silhouetted figure. As they walked, Ganlin realized that he was able to see his body again as it slowly became more and more visible.

Ganlin slowed as the stranger came to a stop, rapping their knuckles against the closest tree in a way that sounded almost like a song. A few seconds later, a similar sound came from a bit farther ahead, finishing the song the stranger’s knock had started.

The stranger stood up straighter, seeming to relax a bit, then walked forward, pushing aside the branches of two trees that had grown so close to each other that they seemed to have become one. Ganlin followed them.

Ganlin stepped through the branches into a small clearing, where a small fire gently crackled in the centre.

The other two figures who occupied the clearing were the other two strangers who had visited Silvirtharn along with Ganlin’s rescuer. The tallest one was dressed in armor with a long blade by their side, and was embracing Ganlin’s rescuer. The other, shorter stranger sat by the fire, dressed in robes that had an interweaving pattern of red and blue, was looking up at Ganlin, the fire casting their face in shadow.

“You, Ank’haran.” they said, not breaking their gaze. “Tell me your name.”

Ganlin shifted uncomfortably as the other two broke their embrace and looked at Ganlin as well, waiting for an answer.

“My name is Ganlin Hardell. What is it you want? Do you come from Ludilakir?”

The stranger by the fire made an expression that Ganlin couldn’t quite place, then patted the ground next to them.

“I did not come here from Ludilakir, but I did live there, once, a long time ago. Sit with me, Ganlin, we have much to talk about, and your injuries must be tended to.” Ganlin sat next to them, and they continued speaking as they looked over the wounds on Ganlin’s back.

“My name is Lyzdrik.” They said as they prodded at Ganlin’s wounds, making him hiss.

“You’ve already met Elizarthe, she is my apprentice. And he,” they gestured to the tall man, “is Rollan. I hired him some time ago as a bodyguard, which has become only more necessary these days. Your wounds are worse than I thought, give me a moment.”

Lyzdrik stood up and walked away from the fire, opening up a back that was laying on the ground.

“Alright, Lyzdrik.” Ganlin said, eager to maybe get some answers. “Why did you free me? You said you haven’t been to Ludilakir in a long time, why?”

Lyzdrik came back with a small box, opening it and taking out two small blue gems that glittered in the firelight. Vievstone, Ganlin realized. Lyzdrik handed one of the small stones to Ganlin.

“Hold this, it’ll help the process.”

Ganlin took the stone, and Lyzdrik moved behind Ganlin again, placing a hand on his back as he continued speaking.

“Deep breath in, this may feel strange to you.”

Ganlin took a deep breath, filling his lungs with air as Lyzdrik got to work.

A cold feeling slid down Ganlin’s back, then spread throughout his entire body. All of Ganlin’s muscles felt numb. The wizard continued speaking as they healed Ganlin.

“To answer your questions, I spent some time as an acolyte in Ludilakir, some forty odd years ago. I went there to learn magic, as I knew that I had the natural gift for it. While there, I served as an assistant to one of the Watchers, a man by the name of Myrlarn. He is the one who you’ve been seeing in your dreams.”

Ganlin’s body went cold, and not due to Lyzdrik’s magic.

“How do you know about those?” Ganlin asked, standing up and backing away from the group. He scanned the area for a way to escape, or barring that, a weapon.

“I know because Myrlarn told me about it, even back then you were in his visions. He didn’t tell me much, just that he was having visions of an Ank’haran, fighting in the ruins of a burning skal, trapped within the eye of a raging storm. He said he even managed to somehow connect his mind to this Ank’haran in his visions, and that they said he was locked away in Fort Silvirtharn.” They reached forward and took the vievstone from Ganlin’s hand and placed both gems back in the box before closing it. “You’re welcome, by the way.” They said as they went to place the box back by the pack.

Ganlin’s reeling mind was pulled back into the moment as he realized that his back, no, his entire body, felt better, stronger. Reaching a hand over his shoulder, he felt at his back. His wounds were almost entirely gone, replaced by faint scars. Awed by the power, Ganlin spoke.

“Thank you. Truly, thank you.” Then, Ganlin remembered the rest of what Lyzdrik had said.

“He told you that he had linked with me then? But I thought you said that you said you haven’t been to Ludilakir in a long time?”

Lyzdrik finished packing away the box and stood up, turning back towards Ganlin.

“I haven’t been. In fact, I left Ludilakir close to thirty years ago.”

Ganlin swayed, his legs becoming unsteady as his mind whirled.

“How? I wasn’t even alive thirty years ago? How could he have spoken to me?”

Lyzdrik crossed the clearing and sat back down in front of the fire, pushing some of the kindling around with a stick that he then threw into the fire.

“I’m not entirely sure. Myrlarn was powerful among the Watchers, probably the most powerful. Beyond that, he also had many other things to help expand his powers, vievstone, violet-lillies, and the like. It’s been a long time since I’ve studied the magics of Foresight, but I would say that it’s the strangest among the six houses, a fickle thing, foresight. Any conversation you had with Myrlarn existed outside of time, and the Ganlin he was speaking to may not have actually been you, but rather the version of you most likely to occur. Foresight is difficult to explain, and I am hardly an expert on it. The best advice I can give you is this; the less you think about it, the less your head will hurt and the easier your life will be. Foresight is closer to gambling than actually being able to see the future.”

Ganlin sat down, staring blankly at the fire as he tried to follow Lyzdrik’s advice, but failed. What did any of that even mean? How could something exist outside of time, something that no one was supposed to be able to escape?

The mere action of thinking about it made Ganlin’s head hurt. He shook it off and asked another question.

“That is why you released me then? To help your old master?”

“Essentially, yes.” Lyzdrik responded. “After finding you, Myrlarn began focusing his time on trying to find out where you were. Silvirtharn wasn’t a prison until somewhat recently, about five years ago. Before that it was just a fort, inhabited by a lord and his men. They rarely kept prisoners. Then that lord fell out of favour, the keep mostly forgotten, then given to the warden as a prison. For the majority of the time Myrlarn has been searching for you, there wasn’t even a place to look.My master became frustrated, withdrawn. I left because he was too focused on trying to find you rather than teaching me.” Lyzdrik’s eyes narrowed as they said that, a bitter look quickly coming to their face before quickly disappearing again.

“Since he no longer had the motivation to teach me, I left, went to learn different magic.”

“At Maeschekyole?” Ganlin asked, explaining further as Lyzdrik looked at him. “Elizarthe mentioned something about a place called Maeschokyole when she spoke to the warden last morning.”

Lyzdrik’s eyes flicked towards Elizarthe, then back at Ganlin.

“Yes. Maeschokyole lies in the kingdom of Mijyark, Northeast of here. Other kingdoms have organizations and buildings that teach magic, but amongst the Northkingdoms, Maeschokyole has the best. After my time at Ludilakir I was sick of Foresight, and so I went to Maeschokyole and studied the magics of Restoration and Conjuration instead. The three of us,” They gestured towards Elizarthe and Rollan, “Were sent here by Maeschkyole, as word of Silvirtharn’s vievstone deposit had spread amongst the Mystae all over the North-Kingdoms. The council there sent us to try and negotiate a deal with the warden, be it coin or whatever else he may want. Once we arrived here, I remembered that Silvirtharn was the place that Myrlarn had always talked about. From the moment I entered the grounds I was looking at each prisoner, looking for you.”

Lyzdrik stopped talking, taking a moment to drink some water and stare at the fire. Letting their voice replenish. Ganlin waited silently. They spoke again.

“Once I saw you, I knew it was you. Myrlarn was never able to fully see you when the two of you talked, you were always blurry to him, but you matched the description he had given me, all those years ago. So I sent Elizarthe to release you, since she’s studied Illusion.”

The clearing was enveloped by silence as Lyzdrik finished talking. Eventually, Ganlin spoke.

“So what’s next then?”

“We take you to Ludilakir, hand you over to Myrlarn, then the three of us shall return to Maeschokyole. I’m in no hurry to return there, the vievstone is good, but it’s clear that, for whatever reason, the warden is not as interested in our offers as he acts to be.”

The second half of what Lyzdrik said went ignored by Ganlin, who had stopped listening after his worries were confirmed. They were planning to take him to Ludilakir, so Myrlarn could attempt to figure out why he and Ganlin had somehow been connected to each other. Ganlin didn’t want that, it was a waste of his time. He needed to return to that Skal and make good on his oath, and make up for his failure by punishing himself in any way they requested, that was the only way that Ganlin would be able to restore the honour he had lost by allowing himself to be taken to Silvirtharn. If he went to Ludilakir, it would take him even longer to return, and he would lose what remaining honour his soul may still carry.

Ganlin stood up, and the other three people in the clearing looked towards him as he spoke.

“From the bottom of my soul, I thank you all for your help. Both for rescuing me, and for treating my wounds, but I cannot go with you. I have made an oath to the people of a small Skal, I believe Southwest of here, if my direction has not been too muddled by my time in Silvirtharn.

My time in that prison stopped me from fulfilling the oath I made to them, but now that I am free I can finally serve them as I was meant to. Tell Myrlarn that I shall come one day, or he could come to me, if he so likes, but I am not going to Ludilakir. Not yet.”

With that, Ganlin strode forward through the underbrush and went to fulfill his oath.

-End of chapter 10-

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