"In times to come, they would know this time as The Wilderness. We were lost amongst the stars, each of our fates unknown to the other but we always had hope."
Extract from The Book of Piotr, Book 12 of the Jadeist Scriptures
Walking along the boulevard, Piotr felt this world was the least alien of those he had encountered. This was a farming world, a world of small settlements isolated and faithful to a belief and creed and although some of the customs seemed alien to him, he could admire they way they lived here. He had grown up in the Inspiru way. They had been a small commune who had mastered the ability of utilising moisture farms to grow crops deep beneath the ground. They had believed that the spirits of the dead walked alongside the living, guiding their decisions in subtle ways. A wisdom of the ages, it has one been called.
Piotr wandered how many of his fellow Inspirtu survived. When they had reached the evacuation site on Araxes, some seventeen days walk from the Sanctuary, the slave traders had taken Moonbaby and Inspirtu alike. He wondered if the Adherent knew where she had sent them. He remembered the faces of his fellow Inspirtu as the Moonbaby's they had come to worship and see as divine were shackled and led like cattle onto the slaver ships.
He was nearing his destination now. Square. Functional. He realised he was alone now and the bustling markets and throngs of people had thinned to nothing. The entrance to the building was a dull grey door, devoid of decoration but for a small flourish on the door handle and a peep hole.
Piotr knocked on the door firmly and waited. He heard shuffling on the other side and felt an eye looking him over. The door opened a crack and a face appeared behind a chain.
"I'm here to speak to Tourmaline".
"Tourmaline eh? What makes you think such a person resides here?"
Piotr lifted his hand and removed the glove from his right hand. On his middle finger, he revealed a ring upon which a stylised rabbits head was embossed in a jade stone.
The face behind the door looked at Piotr, the man's thick craggy eyebrows overhanging his deep gray eyes. "You think that means something do you, eh?", the man said gruffy.
"It's a symbol. Alone, it's meaningless but when enough people believe in it, it becomes something more. It meant a lot to a great many friends of mine, many long since gone. It means a lot to me, I think it means something to you too."
The craggy man gave Piotr another look over. Young, certainly less than 25, possibly younger than 20. His skin was tanned with a dark tousled head of hair. His eyes were brown but somehow seemed to reflect a hint of blue. He wore brown slacks and a red shirt, layered with a brown and black chequed shirt and battered leather jacket. The accent was foreign, at least to him but he'd met others who spoke with the same lilt. He knew this young man was Araxian.
The door slammed shut and then opened wider, released of its chain. The man beckoned him with one hand before furtively glancing left and right along the boulevard. Dusk was falling as Heinlein fell below the horizon and the moon of Mycroft began to peek out behind amber coloured clouds.
Piotr's eyes adjusted to the dimmer light within the building. The interior was only moderately more elaborate than the exterior. The walls were exposed brick, with the occasional dim light alternating with screens or murals. He felt the hard floor beneath him give way to a softer lush carpet. People pottered about, occasionally giving a enquiring glance at the strange visitor in their midst.
He could make out a bar at one side of the room and wooden tables were set out across the floor, each orbited with several chairs. Piotr wondered where they were going and soon found the craggy man walking towards a table in the corner of the room. He could make out several figures and realised that they had stopped talking and all but one was now looking in his direction.
"Rest is up to you, lad", the craggy man said, "Be respectful and try not to be a mug."
Piotr nodded as the man left him and realised that several of the figures bore sidearms. The figure in the centre of the group sat with their back to him, wearing a dark brown overcoat over a hooded top.
"Stop there." The voice was female and came from the figure before him. "I was watching you on the screen here. Don't think for a moment because I have my back to you that I am disadvantaged in any way. Everyone in this room will lay down their life in my name."
Piotr took a breath before speaking. "I am no threat to you. My name is Piotr, I am a Remnant of the Jadist Congregation and child of the Inspirtu."
"You're one of Jasmine's minions, then. Certainly you're not one of Jade's. Wrong pigmentation for one."
"I'm not sure I unders.."
"How did you get here? You're a very, very long way from home."
Piotr felt the words get trapped in his mouth. He had a long story to tell, about how the slave traders hadn't been able to tell the difference between farmer and warrior and how when the time was right, the warriors had made sure they learnt. He wanted to tell her about the long journey across the inky black. So many tales to tell in the past two years but he didn't know where to begin.
"I'm one of the Remnant, we're...."
"Remnant? OH, how delicious! That's actually a title you've given yourselves, not just a description? How very theatrical, how very cloak and dagger. How very Jasmine."
A slender arm reached for a white china teacup on the table and twixt overcoat and glove he caught glimpse of a delicate, ghostly white wrist.
She continued, "She was always one for theatrics. She had a knack for it. Everything had to be big and grand. Adherents of this. Messiah's of that but then so were you Inspirtu apparently. Almost like you were made for each other."
She took a slow, deliberate sip of the drink and then lowered her hood. Her hair was white as he had ever seen and she raised a beckoning finger in the air.
"Come on then, come and have a seat."
Piotr moved forward and found himself glancing at the woman as he passed her. Her hair was long and he could see now fell half way to her waist in a neat plait. She had a small delicate nose which matched her shapely face. He felt an instinctive sense of awe, brought upon by centuries of tradition. He had never seen a Moonbaby any less than beautiful.
"Sit down. Do come on. We haven't all day. Yes, I'm a Moonbaby. Now do stop staring and sit down. My, my, those witches did a fine job brainwashing you lot didn't they? Not quite sure they expected albinos to ever turn up on Araxes but well, there you go. Tea perchance? I quite like the Earl Gray myself but perhaps you'd prefer peppermint...or possibly cinnamon? I hear Raqismanna tastes something like cinnamon. August, go and get my guest some cinnamon tea, there's a good fellow."
"Now Piotr, that's your name, yes? My name is Tourmaline. The pleasure is, of course, all yours...but whatever could you want with little me?"
Piotr spoke up, more assertively now, "We are looking for the messiah, Jade Moonkill"
"Curious. Even interesting. Well, I'm sorry but I don't know where she is. She flits about a lot. Causing trouble, it's her way. Even when she was dimmer than these bulbs. It's a spectrum condition you know. Moonbabyism. Affects people in different ways. Given the right medication you can lead a fairly normal life. People say I talk a lot, I say I just have a lot to say. Maybe it's because I'm a Moonbaby. Maybe I'm just bloody talkative eh? But no, I don't know where Jade is. I'm assuming you looked on Ghost? But of course, you must, how else would you have known to come here...."
"We need to reaffirm the faith", said Piotr, "we need Jade to do that. I don't believe we could truly reignite the mission without her. Many believers have fallen to the wayside."
"Yes", Tourmaline took another sip of tea and smiled as Piotr's cinnamon tea arrived, "I can imagine how Jade returning from the dead might have ironically derailed your faith a bit."
"A misinterpretation of the texts and the facts at hand. Our scholars merely focused too closely on one interpretation of the text. Arrogance is to be blame. It was predicted that our messiah would return from the dead and who can deny she did that very thing? It was once believed that the End of Days represented the death of creation. Now we know it only meant the end of an mistaken way of thinking, which we believe was physically represented by the destruction of the Sanctuary."
"Fascinating I'm sure. I'm afraid I can't help you find Jade and I'm not entirely sure I'm in a position to help you find Jasmine either."
Piotr felt his face droop a little.
"But of course, perhaps you're playing the wrong game. Maybe you should be looking for that little child instead, assuming it survived."
"Child?"
"Yes, the child. Is it Tink's or the other one. I really can't remember. We don't really get Araxian news this far out and it's been a while. Far too busy having our brains filled with mush by the Alliance. That child is important and not for the reasons you might think. You might also want to take a closer look at Blue Sun or if you're feeling particularly brave, Umbrella Labs. They're full of little secrets."
Tourmaline finished her drink and stood up. "I think we're done? Yes we're done. Unless you have anything else? I'm really very busy you know.Tsk, you never tried your tea."
Piotr dropped his head in reverence - "Only that I praise Jade, praise Jasmine and now I praise you, Tourmaline. Our spirit guides continue to aid us in finding wisdom"
Tourmaline smiled and turned to her own men, "You hear that, boys. Praise Tourmaline. I should very well think so. All hail Tourmaline, woohoo!"
The face behind the door looked at Piotr, the man's thick craggy eyebrows overhanging his deep gray eyes. "You think that means something do you, eh?", the man said gruffy.
"It's a symbol. Alone, it's meaningless but when enough people believe in it, it becomes something more. It meant a lot to a great many friends of mine, many long since gone. It means a lot to me, I think it means something to you too."
The craggy man gave Piotr another look over. Young, certainly less than 25, possibly younger than 20. His skin was tanned with a dark tousled head of hair. His eyes were brown but somehow seemed to reflect a hint of blue. He wore brown slacks and a red shirt, layered with a brown and black chequed shirt and battered leather jacket. The accent was foreign, at least to him but he'd met others who spoke with the same lilt. He knew this young man was Araxian.
The door slammed shut and then opened wider, released of its chain. The man beckoned him with one hand before furtively glancing left and right along the boulevard. Dusk was falling as Heinlein fell below the horizon and the moon of Mycroft began to peek out behind amber coloured clouds.
Piotr's eyes adjusted to the dimmer light within the building. The interior was only moderately more elaborate than the exterior. The walls were exposed brick, with the occasional dim light alternating with screens or murals. He felt the hard floor beneath him give way to a softer lush carpet. People pottered about, occasionally giving a enquiring glance at the strange visitor in their midst.
He could make out a bar at one side of the room and wooden tables were set out across the floor, each orbited with several chairs. Piotr wondered where they were going and soon found the craggy man walking towards a table in the corner of the room. He could make out several figures and realised that they had stopped talking and all but one was now looking in his direction.
"Rest is up to you, lad", the craggy man said, "Be respectful and try not to be a mug."
Piotr nodded as the man left him and realised that several of the figures bore sidearms. The figure in the centre of the group sat with their back to him, wearing a dark brown overcoat over a hooded top.
"Stop there." The voice was female and came from the figure before him. "I was watching you on the screen here. Don't think for a moment because I have my back to you that I am disadvantaged in any way. Everyone in this room will lay down their life in my name."
Piotr took a breath before speaking. "I am no threat to you. My name is Piotr, I am a Remnant of the Jadist Congregation and child of the Inspirtu."
"You're one of Jasmine's minions, then. Certainly you're not one of Jade's. Wrong pigmentation for one."
"I'm not sure I unders.."
"How did you get here? You're a very, very long way from home."
Piotr felt the words get trapped in his mouth. He had a long story to tell, about how the slave traders hadn't been able to tell the difference between farmer and warrior and how when the time was right, the warriors had made sure they learnt. He wanted to tell her about the long journey across the inky black. So many tales to tell in the past two years but he didn't know where to begin.
"I'm one of the Remnant, we're...."
"Remnant? OH, how delicious! That's actually a title you've given yourselves, not just a description? How very theatrical, how very cloak and dagger. How very Jasmine."
A slender arm reached for a white china teacup on the table and twixt overcoat and glove he caught glimpse of a delicate, ghostly white wrist.
She continued, "She was always one for theatrics. She had a knack for it. Everything had to be big and grand. Adherents of this. Messiah's of that but then so were you Inspirtu apparently. Almost like you were made for each other."
She took a slow, deliberate sip of the drink and then lowered her hood. Her hair was white as he had ever seen and she raised a beckoning finger in the air.
"Come on then, come and have a seat."
Piotr moved forward and found himself glancing at the woman as he passed her. Her hair was long and he could see now fell half way to her waist in a neat plait. She had a small delicate nose which matched her shapely face. He felt an instinctive sense of awe, brought upon by centuries of tradition. He had never seen a Moonbaby any less than beautiful.
"Sit down. Do come on. We haven't all day. Yes, I'm a Moonbaby. Now do stop staring and sit down. My, my, those witches did a fine job brainwashing you lot didn't they? Not quite sure they expected albinos to ever turn up on Araxes but well, there you go. Tea perchance? I quite like the Earl Gray myself but perhaps you'd prefer peppermint...or possibly cinnamon? I hear Raqismanna tastes something like cinnamon. August, go and get my guest some cinnamon tea, there's a good fellow."
"Now Piotr, that's your name, yes? My name is Tourmaline. The pleasure is, of course, all yours...but whatever could you want with little me?"
Piotr spoke up, more assertively now, "We are looking for the messiah, Jade Moonkill"
"Curious. Even interesting. Well, I'm sorry but I don't know where she is. She flits about a lot. Causing trouble, it's her way. Even when she was dimmer than these bulbs. It's a spectrum condition you know. Moonbabyism. Affects people in different ways. Given the right medication you can lead a fairly normal life. People say I talk a lot, I say I just have a lot to say. Maybe it's because I'm a Moonbaby. Maybe I'm just bloody talkative eh? But no, I don't know where Jade is. I'm assuming you looked on Ghost? But of course, you must, how else would you have known to come here...."
"We need to reaffirm the faith", said Piotr, "we need Jade to do that. I don't believe we could truly reignite the mission without her. Many believers have fallen to the wayside."
"Yes", Tourmaline took another sip of tea and smiled as Piotr's cinnamon tea arrived, "I can imagine how Jade returning from the dead might have ironically derailed your faith a bit."
"A misinterpretation of the texts and the facts at hand. Our scholars merely focused too closely on one interpretation of the text. Arrogance is to be blame. It was predicted that our messiah would return from the dead and who can deny she did that very thing? It was once believed that the End of Days represented the death of creation. Now we know it only meant the end of an mistaken way of thinking, which we believe was physically represented by the destruction of the Sanctuary."
"Fascinating I'm sure. I'm afraid I can't help you find Jade and I'm not entirely sure I'm in a position to help you find Jasmine either."
Piotr felt his face droop a little.
"But of course, perhaps you're playing the wrong game. Maybe you should be looking for that little child instead, assuming it survived."
"Child?"
"Yes, the child. Is it Tink's or the other one. I really can't remember. We don't really get Araxian news this far out and it's been a while. Far too busy having our brains filled with mush by the Alliance. That child is important and not for the reasons you might think. You might also want to take a closer look at Blue Sun or if you're feeling particularly brave, Umbrella Labs. They're full of little secrets."
Tourmaline finished her drink and stood up. "I think we're done? Yes we're done. Unless you have anything else? I'm really very busy you know.Tsk, you never tried your tea."
Piotr dropped his head in reverence - "Only that I praise Jade, praise Jasmine and now I praise you, Tourmaline. Our spirit guides continue to aid us in finding wisdom"
Tourmaline smiled and turned to her own men, "You hear that, boys. Praise Tourmaline. I should very well think so. All hail Tourmaline, woohoo!"
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