BORN OF THE FUTURE
By Skylark
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"Between the idea and the reality falls the shadow. This is how the world ends. Not with a bang, but a whimper."
- T. S. Elliot.
Part One - The Reality
4th March, 1990 - Xanyin, Australis.
As cities generally went, Xanyin was a pretty pathetic specimen. In all reality, it was closer to a suburb, sitting uncomfortably on the outskirts of Perth's ever-expanding metropolis. No more than twenty miles away, the towering skyscrapers started looming away into the horizon, their tops brushing the skies as if to say, "Oh, look! I'm taller than you!". Whereas Xanyin was a primitive little place, hardly noticeable when so close to something so grand. It was widely felt throughout the city that Perth was squeezing the life out of their beloved home. The only thing that kept it from being completely overrun was the variation of claims made by the European-owned Archeological Investigations Department (AID for short). Apparently Xanyin's residents were none too impressed with that lot, either. Not only were there fears a-plenty of the city being torn apart for AID's 'investigations', there was also much racism within Xanyin as a whole. It was a whole controversial topic, and debates were constantly being waged over the issues involved. The media as usual took the escapade to new heights which, in turn, brought in the tourists - another problem for the long-suffering Xanyinians to deal with. As it had been said many times in the past, "We just want to settle down and live out our peaceful lives.".
Well, it was hardly likely.
It had probably started a few decades ago when Australis' Government had started evacuating European refugees into the capital cities. It seemed the population crisis over there had grown to absolutely catastrophic levels, and the only course of action left was to 'siphon off' unwanted people to the continents with more stable economics. It might have worked too, had not Australis been the only place that was really suitable for so many to immigrate to. Anywhere in Europe, of course, was completely out of the question, while the Orient were rapidly approaching a population crisis of their own. North America was still in the process of recovering from that nuclear blast of two centuries ago, and there were many famous tales and rumours running around from the few people who had actually been there and survived. It was a place of violent crime and horrific deformities - not an ideal place for an extended vacation. The parts of South America that weren't being depleted of their natural resources were used by the global population as the world's largest garbage disposal. And of course, hardly anyone at all was willing to spend their life shut up in a box-like building amidst the freezing temperatures of the Arctics. Australis was the world's leading economy, clean and had loads of free space - so what problem could there possibly be?
Nobody had really minded at the start, but as more and more Europeans kept flooding into the country, setting up their European businesses and factories and speaking incomprehensible English all the time to each other, the original population began to get rather annoyed. Cities were growing kilometres larger by the day, and many of Australis' more traditional aspects were fading out to be replaced by European ones. It had only begun two decades ago, but now there was almost an equal number of Europeans compared to the amount of 'true' Australians. Indeed, it was rarely mentioned in public, but at those times when it was safe to gossip, people often let their true feelings show.
Xanyin was certainly no exception. In some ways they were luckier, as the foreigners preferred to live in the big cities, but ever since Perth's monstrous structures began blocking out the skyline the Xanyinians became just as angry as everyone else. But by now, there wasn't much they could do about it. AID just made it worse, somehow. Why, how humiliating! Letting a foreign company 'rescue' them from the very same thing that threatened them, and have the problem multiply a thousandfold!
At any rate, eventually the problem had gotten way too out of hand. A small group of people had banded together, seeking a reasonable - or even unreasonable - solution to what they saw as an impossible problem that had to be stopped at whatever cost. No one really remembered how or why they did it, but they somehow managed to team up with the Priestesses, the select females who ran the Shrines situated about the country.
Priestesses were basically the type of women who were carefully excluded from any conversation. Looked upon with awe - and perhaps a little fear - they not only controlled the public Shrines, they were often unofficially involved in illicit doings that ranged from anything from drug use to mind-manipulation and sometimes even murder. Everyone knew this, but they remained so clever at disguising all traces of illegal activity that nobody could do a thing about it. There was also the factor that most in official positions felt it demeaning to admit being fooled by women, and so thereby convinced themselves that there was nothing even a little suspicious about any of it.
The Priestesses themselves took great delight in the security this meant to them, and were quietly working their way up the ladder of status. Oddly enough, for a group so select and closely guarded, the number of rumours that abounded were quite startling.
Not one of them even hinted of the Cult.
***
"See, now! Look, you've made him cry."
"It's all those foreign soap-operas those youngsters watch. It makes them weak. Now, in my day, if I was threatened with the prospect of having sharp objects poked in me, I would have taken the challenge head on, if not laughed back." The old man was around his late fifties, but remarkably healthy and active for his age. His whitish hair had long-ago lost its colour prematurely, and only a few wisps remained around the sides of his scalp. Among his shallow wrinkles were many scars - faded and old, perhaps, but they were signs he'd retained from many battles of the past. Here was a man of much experience.
Not so could be said for his two companions or the whimpering child they dragged along with them. The first of the two was a young man, barely appearing to have finished adolescence. He was a handsome youth, though he had adopted some of the more radical fashions that had come out of Europe in the past few years. Though his ebony hair was set in spikes tipped with crimson dye and he wore clothes that would put a gangster to shame, his face still had an aura of innocence about it. He was the kind of man one would stop and look at in the streets, though it might not always be for positive reasons alone.
The other was rather striking in his own way, though not as youthful or charismatic in appearance. Bearing the look of one well-educated, in his arms were also the strength and muscle of a trained fighter. Remarkably, he only bore one visible scar, what must have been a huge gash across his right forearm. He was very much a leader, and it was he who had set the Cult in progress, though he had certainly needed the old man's help and experience. All three carried small packs containing goodness knows what.
The child continued to bawl, eventually working the youth up to a state of exasperation. "Hey, I only told the kid the truth. He was going to find out when we reached the Shrine, anyway. Besides, how was I to know he'd start whining?"
"Well if you hadn't you'd certainly have saved us from this wailing!" The middle-aged man joked lightheartedly. "Come on, it's not as if we'll have to put up with it much longer. Ramun's concocted some kind of lotion that'll put a quick end to that."
The old man said nothing, but kept silently walking along the bush track they had been traversing along for some time now. He was not the rowdy type, but seemed to prefer the solitude of being lost in his own thoughts. Nevertheless, today he was particularly out of it - perhaps stress? Worry? The others looked at each other, eyebrows were raised, then they glanced back at the man.
"Too much on your mind, Yuan?" asked the youth, grinning as if he found the concept amusing or strangely ironic. "Get if off your conscience."
Blinking, Yuan was almost startled out of his reverie. "No, no. It's nothing to be worried about. I was simply reflecting on the world's sorry state." As usual, the others suspected. Who didn't, especially when the Cult was concerned?
The fighter laughed, ignoring the cries from the child he half-led, half-dragged along. "In that case, it would certainly be something to worry about, I think."
"True, true."
The remainder of the walk was in silence after that, the three and the child gradually making their way along the narrow trail. It was a wonder that even this partial bush land was left, for it was disappearing at an incredible rate. All the big cities were concerned about was that there would be more room to start new housing developments. More people, more houses needed. It was as simple as that. And the changes were already evident. If you peered though the trees to where the ridge they walked along dropped steeply off into a deep valley, you could make out many buildings - not the skyscrapers, but the homes of Perth's poorer, second-class. In many ways, that was even worse. There was no bird in the sky, had not been for many years. So-called 'civilisation' had driven them all away.
That was the Cult's main concern. Just like the rest of Xanyin, they hated the constant flow of Europeans into Australis and especially Perth. It was completely taking over the country. Only unlike most, the Cult were prepared to actually do something about it.
Now, they approached a small building with thatched roofing, a traditional style that was all but extinct in this day and age. A Shrine. It was rather quaint in appearance, but also carefully positioned to allow the smoky sunshine to flash in at certain angles through tiny skylights in the roof. But for all its hidden complexity, it remained squarish and simple to the eye. Across the open doorway there hung a beaded curtain, its gaudy fake jewels glittering yet somehow dull.
Yuan stepped up to the curtain, as if to enter. Surprisingly, he stopped just short of the entrance, pausing to kneel down. His lips formed barely audible whispers, immediately silencing the others, even the whining child who had so persisted in his exaggerated complaints. They had seen this before - a charm, a blessing - it was a test of sorts, asking them to prove their identities by reciting this piece of poetry. A pass into the Shrine.
He stood, and they entered. The Shrine's interior was no less remarkable than the outside - if anything more so. They were standing in a simple, square room. The walls were lined with plain, grey concrete, but the sun shining in from the various apertures in the roof performed a dazzling light show about the walls. Even as the sun moved sluggishly across the sky, the light shifted and changed. Every minute a new plethora of patterns emerged into existence, a fantastic display of light amidst shadow. The small group was amazed, gazing enraptured at the performance. They could have watched it for hours, and still have been enthralled by the magnificence.
"I see you are enjoying my exhibition, gentlemen." Whirling to face the speaker, they beheld the ugliest of hideous crones, where a moment before there had been no one else present. She stood oddly, her back hunched over as if broken by torment or pain, a deformity that even for all its atrociousness was pale in comparison with the rest of her body. Her face, a mass of lines etched upon other, deeper lines, was sharp and bird-like, a cracked desert of repulsiveness. Only her piercing, dagger-like eyes shone warily through the shell of grossly tortured flesh. Amethyst flecked on an expanse of grey mists, they bored into the souls of the three men, while the boy simply squirmed uncomfortably, realising nothing...
Yuan straightened himself with a shake of his head, coughing hesitantly. "None of your tricks now, Ramun. You know why we're here. We wish only to prevent the foreigners' entry into Australis, nothing more and no less. I warn you, if any of us are harmed..."
The hag waved a fragile hand dismissively. "Paranoia does not become you, dear Yuan." She cackled to herself as if over an old joke, though the others found nothing amusing in her comment. "I have the solution, as you already know. Come, let us talk. I shall explain it all in clarity." With that, Ramun reached a trembling arm behind her to press the cool concrete wall. Instantly, a section of the wall slid down into the floor, automated so smoothly that the absence of sound was startling. A surprisingly wide corridor was revealed, leading down into the ground with walls of the same concrete as the room they now stood in. On her misshapen limbs, Ramun hobbled off down the passageway, beckoning for the others to follow. Thinking she was out of earshot, the youth rolled his eyes. "What kind of freak is she?" he whispered to the others before trailing along after her.
Ramun's unpleasant, rusty laugh resonated down the corridor. "Only the Head Priestess of the Southern Region, my boy. You had better watch your tongue, young Wei. You're treading in dangerous country already."
The hall led into a spacious, well-lit room that resembled a laboratory of sorts. It was hard to believe it was part of the same building, for while the public part was primitive and almost religiously designed in appearance, the secret interior that made up the main framework of the Shrine was filled with whirring machinery and modern appliances. It was most likely one of these that controlled the hidden-door mechanism. There was the odd person working at a device or chemical concoction, or pacing about the chamber for reasons unknown. The three men were ushered past all this and through the room, where they were eventually stopped at a low bench top. At a clap of Ramun's frail hands, a Priestess immediately made her way over to them, bowing courteously.
She was tall, far taller than Ramun's stooped figure, as well as being at least a good head taller than all three men. Her long jet hair was pulled back into a tight plait which trailed a fair way down her back, adding to her strict and commanding countenance. She wore the pastel orange robes of the Priestess' order - comfortably fitting and practical, appearing to be in her mid-thirties.
"My name is Tjaka-Mwen." she introduced herself politely. "I will be accompanying you on your journey. For now, give me the child and I can get started."
The fighter's usually placid face turned stony. He turned to Ramun, anger in his eyes. "You said nothing about one of your Priestesses coming with us. This is no job for a woman!"
Yuan nodded, backing up the younger man. "Dao-Sung is correct." he agreed, the lines on his face deepening as he frowned. "Unless you have something specific planned for her, our mission will be far too dangerous."
Tjaka glared at them both, her smile vanishing. "I assure you both, I have been well trained in my chosen fields. You shouldn't jump to conclusions - especially as you are as yet unaware of the details of our mission. At this stage, I am far more qualified than any of you. Now, the child?" With that, she turned back to the bench and picked up a small needle filled with a thick, pinkish liquid. At the sight of it, the young boy's blessed moments of silence instantly ruptured with a shrill wail.
"You're not going to stab me with with that thing!" he screamed, wrenching his arm from Wei's loose grip. He made for the other side of the room in a wild rush of panic, but was forced to stumble to a halt when he made the discovery that the door he had come through had vanished.
"I don't care how important he is. I'm not fetching that brat again!" Wei made his opinion clear by folding his arms and refusing to budge from where he stood. "He really is the most obnoxious, irritating, spoiled..."
"I'm sure." Tjaka grimaced.
Dao-Sung sighed and spared himself the boredom of listening to another of Wei's endless tirades by briskly walking across to the tantrum-prone boy and promptly dragging him back to the bench, though he was kicking and flailing around the entire length of the room. He shoved the screeching child into Tjaka's arms. "Take him - please."
As the Priestess took care of the boy, Ramun faced the odd group again, nodding slightly. "I think you will find that you'll have no need to worry about the child for a while, my good men. Tjaka is injecting him with a calming serum." Even she seemed partly relieved at this fact. "Now, I have some information to share, I believe."
The three men fell quiet, waiting expectantly. It was vital they paid attention, for they would never have another chance to hear their mission explained.
Ramun began: "Our society is a pitiful one. It is filled with crime, intolerance and warfare. In places other than Australis, we are known to suffer from overpopulation, famine and severe economic crisis." She paused. "That is why we are here. I have called you, the select from the Cult, here for this reason. I suppose you think I shall send you on a reconnaissance mission of sorts, yes?"
All three men reluctantly nodded, suspicion clouding their eyes as they realised that perhaps this was not to be the case at all. Wei in particular looked rather indignant. "You mean we're not going to spy on AID, then? Damn, I was looking forward to that."
He winced a moment later as Ramun's scratchy snigger reached his ears. "You may find you'll be doing more than you bargained for, my boy. As all of you will discover. You see," she continued smugly, "You are going to fix this problem at its very source."
She would have said more, but Yuan cut in. "I think it's a little too late for that." he argued. "Why, we would need an entire army!"
"Too expensive." Ramun was ready with a come-back. "And unnecessary. For you misinterpret me, old man. I am going to send you back in time. The mediaeval years, to be precise. Ring a bell? It will be approximately twenty years after Australis' colonisation from the Orient. This, my dears, is the true source of the Earth's miserable state. And all you have to do is prevent the death of a man."
The three glanced at each other and promptly burst out laughing as if on one accord. Ramun simply looked on patiently, evidently having expected a similar reaction.
"That's it, I'm leaving!" Dao-Sung shook his head after the laughter had died down. "This is a waste of my precious time."
The other two nodded. "I can't wait to get away from this female horror-house." Wei agreed decisively. "Yuan, you coming? Even you don't compare to this ancient crackpot!"
"Wait!" Ramun snapped, all traces of her calm demeanour - if there ever truly was one - abruptly vanishing. "You do not believe me to be speaking the truth? I shall explain. Tjaka!"
The tall Priestess at once nodded and turned to face the group. She held the boy in her arms. Amazingly he had ceased to gripe, instead sitting complaisantly and amiably dangling his legs. His eyes had glazed over, and he hummed an innocent tune to himself. Whatever the needle had contained, it unquestionably worked.
Jaws dropped.
"...I don't believe it." Wei muttered, turning rather pink into the bargain.
"So you see," Ramun suddenly picked up, as if nothing unusual had happened, "Anything is possible."
"Impressive." Yuan was the only male who looked remarkably unfazed, even scornful. "Still, you'll have to be far more convincing than that, I'm afraid. Anyone can make a child calm down if assisted with sedatives. But time travel? That's only somebody's half-baked idea of unachievable science, no more real than the imaginary faeries and leprechauns those Europeans seem so obsessed with."
"It just sounds too incredible." agreed Dao-Sung, who was managing to shake off his disbelief. "As much as I'd like to go along with your little plan, Ramun... it's simply impossible."
The Head Priestess glowered, fury at last beginning to get the better of her. "I guarantee the existence of time travel. Let me tell you a secret, provided you arrogant fools are capable of understanding it." At this, Tjaka smiled slightly, apparently guessing what would come next.
"I didn't come into my prestigious position by sheer luck, hard as it may be for you to believe."
Wei smirked. "Oh. Really?"
Ignoring him, the hag continued. "Throughout my life, the gods have blessed me with a powerful gift. I have been granted the ability to see past the veils of time and space. Visions of other worlds, other realities. On occasions I am offered glimpses into these dream-like possibilities. They are the shadowlands, the ever-changing worlds within the twilight of uncertainty. They are those multiple fantasies that are never quite set in stone, but neither are they completely irrational. Is that much clear?"
"Not re-" Dao-Sung began, only to be interrupted by Wei.
"Wait, I want to hear this all the way through." he grinned, winking. "Go on."
Ramun glared at them both. "The shadows reveal to me many interesting things, and not all of them are completely far from the truth." she snapped. "The reason I picked you for this mission was not only due to your skills - if you indeed possess any at all, judging from what I have seen - but also because I know a little about each of you. For instance..." she paused to lick her lips deviously, considering the alternative scenarios.
"Dao-Sung." she declared a moment later. "I know your real motivation, if what I have seen is true. I can tell you right now I don't approve of your choice. Even so, the rest of you aren't much better. Wei-" Here she broke off and scowled at him. "Is even worse, in my opinion. I'm revolted at your attitude to others... it disgusts me. I very nearly didn't include you for this mission."
Wei, for the record, was looking genuinely appalled, as were the other men. "I did nothing! Nothing! Tell me one thing I've ever done wrong!" Though his cheeks did colour a little, whether it was from guilt or infuriation it was hard to tell.
"I'd rather not. And Yuan..." To the surprise of all present, her face suddenly broke into a wry smile. "Yuan was a pretty sick-minded fellow back in his youth, also. I suspect he has learnt by now to change for the better, but even so..."
The old man frowned disapprovingly. "What are you trying to prove, Ramun? Everyone has their faults. And if you're trying to point out that us three happen to be considerably worse than most, what does that say about your quality of choice, eh? If you're supposedly so clever at this "shadowlands" business, anyone would think you'd be sending us to bring about the end of the world, not to revive it!"
"I'm sorry to say you'll never know the truth, Yuan. However, at least you admit I am right!"
"I never said anything of the sort. I was only -"
"Enough." Tjaka-Mwen at last decided to speak up. "We are going through with this, whether anyone likes it or not. Please, follow me." When nobody moved, she rolled her eyes. "Now."
She led them over to a large, open window set high in the wall. Steps led upwards in order to let one see the view above ground level. It looked across into the valley the men had noticed on their way to the Shrine. From this viewpoint the entire basin was visible. It was hardly a sight to be impressed with, really. From end to end the naturally level ground was lined with dingy lower-class bungalows - quite ugly structures, ranging in colour from brown to a dirtier, more faded rust-brown. The only area void of these unsightly obscurances was a fairly large fenced-off zone, complete with a guardhouse and barbed wire. It was the ruin. The one AID was making such a great fuss about. Despite the primitive security measures, nobody ever approached the sorry remains of what had once been a grand and magnificent fortress. Who was interested in useless stones, anyway?
"It is said," Tjaka whispered reverently, "that our fifth Emperor destroyed the fortress in a fit of jealousy. If only it had remained standing, Xanyin would be recognised as Australis' oldest city. It is a pity we could not have had a wiser ruler. Perhaps things may have been very different."
A thoughtful look crossed Dao-Sung's face. "Perhaps, indeed."
"What we do know for certain," Ramun announced, "is that this particular Emperor was not meant to have demolished it, even as it had just been converted from wood to stone. In fact, he probably should not have come to reign whatsoever. He was a descendant of the Emperor that took over after the true ruler was murdered by an unknown assassin. I believe it ought to have never happened. What I want you to do when you arrive -" she ignored the sceptical glances thrown her way, "- is to do everything within your power to prevent the Emperor's death.
Understood? Then let us proceed."
***
The group shortly found themselves back outside the Shrine's confining walls, standing on the exact same pathway they had arrived by. Ramun went instantly to business.
"Right. In a moment I shall leave you. I want you to walk back the way you came, along this ridge. Let the child lead you. It is crucial that none of you step before him, or you shall be left behind. Children are receptive in this way, you see - far more so than adults. The serum heightens that receptivity." She stepped back awkwardly into the Shrine's entrance. "Go now. Farewell, and remember that any stupid mistakes you make are your fault entirely."
With that, the little group started walking. Or shuffling, as the adult members were attempting to stay behind the still-unusually quiet child. To a stranger, it would have looked rather amusing, but it was not so for the participants.
"About time!" Wei muttered. "Gods, am I happy to see the last of that old witch!"
Dao-Sung frowned. "Who isn't? All the same, I get the feeling that there's a great deal she's not telling us. A little strange, don't you think? She brings us in to discuss our mission - and an hour later she's all ready to let us go. Hardly any preparation, no supplies... provided anything even happens, I can't help but feel that she's sending us on a suicide mission. It's either that, or a sure sign of an amateur."
"I'll take the last option, thank you very much. I never did have any desire to die, and I'm not about to change my mind to suit an ugly old hag. Besides, I feel ridiculous doing this."
They walked onwards, slowly but surely making their way along the ridge. As boredom gradually took over, the sounds of conversation died down after a while, the only words spoken being an occasional growl from Tjaka whenever someone looked as if they might step ahead. Much to the displeasure of the men, she had made it clear from the beginning that she was the leader. With her tall stature and quiet dignity she was significantly noticeable and almost as equally assertive, but thankfully not in the least similar to Ramun.
However, just as they had begun to become accustomed to the hush, an unfamiliar noise broke into the peacefulness. But for the boy, everyone jumped at the grating sound. It was, they realised a little belatedly, the raucous cry of a native bird - for all it sounded like Ramun's screechy laughter.
Yuan laughed at his own nerves. "It seems I'm getting paranoid in the beginnings of my old age!" he chuckled. "Still, it's curious that such a bird should be around these parts."
Tjaka smiled. "Look towards the valley, companions. It may tell you why the urban sprawl doesn't drive it away."
They looked, and Dao-Sung thought himself dreaming.
They looked, and Wei began to feel sick.
They looked, and Yuan quietly raised an eyebrow.
They looked, and Tjaka laughed at their reactions (except for the poor little boy who kept strolling forward, oblivious to it all).
Yet none of it really changed the fact that the rows of dull, tiresome buildings had vanished and that in their place stood an elegant, traditional village, complete with thatched roofing and all. The tremendous, splendid pine fortress stood in the centre, dominating all else. The spectacle was both striking and inspiring.
Wei, being the inept but proud person he was, passed out at that precise moment. And as Tjaka later sighed and stated: "It was just the kind of idiotic thing he would do."
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By Skylark
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"Between the idea and the reality falls the shadow. This is how the world ends. Not with a bang, but a whimper."
- T. S. Elliot.
Part One - The Reality
4th March, 1990 - Xanyin, Australis.
As cities generally went, Xanyin was a pretty pathetic specimen. In all reality, it was closer to a suburb, sitting uncomfortably on the outskirts of Perth's ever-expanding metropolis. No more than twenty miles away, the towering skyscrapers started looming away into the horizon, their tops brushing the skies as if to say, "Oh, look! I'm taller than you!". Whereas Xanyin was a primitive little place, hardly noticeable when so close to something so grand. It was widely felt throughout the city that Perth was squeezing the life out of their beloved home. The only thing that kept it from being completely overrun was the variation of claims made by the European-owned Archeological Investigations Department (AID for short). Apparently Xanyin's residents were none too impressed with that lot, either. Not only were there fears a-plenty of the city being torn apart for AID's 'investigations', there was also much racism within Xanyin as a whole. It was a whole controversial topic, and debates were constantly being waged over the issues involved. The media as usual took the escapade to new heights which, in turn, brought in the tourists - another problem for the long-suffering Xanyinians to deal with. As it had been said many times in the past, "We just want to settle down and live out our peaceful lives.".
Well, it was hardly likely.
It had probably started a few decades ago when Australis' Government had started evacuating European refugees into the capital cities. It seemed the population crisis over there had grown to absolutely catastrophic levels, and the only course of action left was to 'siphon off' unwanted people to the continents with more stable economics. It might have worked too, had not Australis been the only place that was really suitable for so many to immigrate to. Anywhere in Europe, of course, was completely out of the question, while the Orient were rapidly approaching a population crisis of their own. North America was still in the process of recovering from that nuclear blast of two centuries ago, and there were many famous tales and rumours running around from the few people who had actually been there and survived. It was a place of violent crime and horrific deformities - not an ideal place for an extended vacation. The parts of South America that weren't being depleted of their natural resources were used by the global population as the world's largest garbage disposal. And of course, hardly anyone at all was willing to spend their life shut up in a box-like building amidst the freezing temperatures of the Arctics. Australis was the world's leading economy, clean and had loads of free space - so what problem could there possibly be?
Nobody had really minded at the start, but as more and more Europeans kept flooding into the country, setting up their European businesses and factories and speaking incomprehensible English all the time to each other, the original population began to get rather annoyed. Cities were growing kilometres larger by the day, and many of Australis' more traditional aspects were fading out to be replaced by European ones. It had only begun two decades ago, but now there was almost an equal number of Europeans compared to the amount of 'true' Australians. Indeed, it was rarely mentioned in public, but at those times when it was safe to gossip, people often let their true feelings show.
Xanyin was certainly no exception. In some ways they were luckier, as the foreigners preferred to live in the big cities, but ever since Perth's monstrous structures began blocking out the skyline the Xanyinians became just as angry as everyone else. But by now, there wasn't much they could do about it. AID just made it worse, somehow. Why, how humiliating! Letting a foreign company 'rescue' them from the very same thing that threatened them, and have the problem multiply a thousandfold!
At any rate, eventually the problem had gotten way too out of hand. A small group of people had banded together, seeking a reasonable - or even unreasonable - solution to what they saw as an impossible problem that had to be stopped at whatever cost. No one really remembered how or why they did it, but they somehow managed to team up with the Priestesses, the select females who ran the Shrines situated about the country.
Priestesses were basically the type of women who were carefully excluded from any conversation. Looked upon with awe - and perhaps a little fear - they not only controlled the public Shrines, they were often unofficially involved in illicit doings that ranged from anything from drug use to mind-manipulation and sometimes even murder. Everyone knew this, but they remained so clever at disguising all traces of illegal activity that nobody could do a thing about it. There was also the factor that most in official positions felt it demeaning to admit being fooled by women, and so thereby convinced themselves that there was nothing even a little suspicious about any of it.
The Priestesses themselves took great delight in the security this meant to them, and were quietly working their way up the ladder of status. Oddly enough, for a group so select and closely guarded, the number of rumours that abounded were quite startling.
Not one of them even hinted of the Cult.
***
"See, now! Look, you've made him cry."
"It's all those foreign soap-operas those youngsters watch. It makes them weak. Now, in my day, if I was threatened with the prospect of having sharp objects poked in me, I would have taken the challenge head on, if not laughed back." The old man was around his late fifties, but remarkably healthy and active for his age. His whitish hair had long-ago lost its colour prematurely, and only a few wisps remained around the sides of his scalp. Among his shallow wrinkles were many scars - faded and old, perhaps, but they were signs he'd retained from many battles of the past. Here was a man of much experience.
Not so could be said for his two companions or the whimpering child they dragged along with them. The first of the two was a young man, barely appearing to have finished adolescence. He was a handsome youth, though he had adopted some of the more radical fashions that had come out of Europe in the past few years. Though his ebony hair was set in spikes tipped with crimson dye and he wore clothes that would put a gangster to shame, his face still had an aura of innocence about it. He was the kind of man one would stop and look at in the streets, though it might not always be for positive reasons alone.
The other was rather striking in his own way, though not as youthful or charismatic in appearance. Bearing the look of one well-educated, in his arms were also the strength and muscle of a trained fighter. Remarkably, he only bore one visible scar, what must have been a huge gash across his right forearm. He was very much a leader, and it was he who had set the Cult in progress, though he had certainly needed the old man's help and experience. All three carried small packs containing goodness knows what.
The child continued to bawl, eventually working the youth up to a state of exasperation. "Hey, I only told the kid the truth. He was going to find out when we reached the Shrine, anyway. Besides, how was I to know he'd start whining?"
"Well if you hadn't you'd certainly have saved us from this wailing!" The middle-aged man joked lightheartedly. "Come on, it's not as if we'll have to put up with it much longer. Ramun's concocted some kind of lotion that'll put a quick end to that."
The old man said nothing, but kept silently walking along the bush track they had been traversing along for some time now. He was not the rowdy type, but seemed to prefer the solitude of being lost in his own thoughts. Nevertheless, today he was particularly out of it - perhaps stress? Worry? The others looked at each other, eyebrows were raised, then they glanced back at the man.
"Too much on your mind, Yuan?" asked the youth, grinning as if he found the concept amusing or strangely ironic. "Get if off your conscience."
Blinking, Yuan was almost startled out of his reverie. "No, no. It's nothing to be worried about. I was simply reflecting on the world's sorry state." As usual, the others suspected. Who didn't, especially when the Cult was concerned?
The fighter laughed, ignoring the cries from the child he half-led, half-dragged along. "In that case, it would certainly be something to worry about, I think."
"True, true."
The remainder of the walk was in silence after that, the three and the child gradually making their way along the narrow trail. It was a wonder that even this partial bush land was left, for it was disappearing at an incredible rate. All the big cities were concerned about was that there would be more room to start new housing developments. More people, more houses needed. It was as simple as that. And the changes were already evident. If you peered though the trees to where the ridge they walked along dropped steeply off into a deep valley, you could make out many buildings - not the skyscrapers, but the homes of Perth's poorer, second-class. In many ways, that was even worse. There was no bird in the sky, had not been for many years. So-called 'civilisation' had driven them all away.
That was the Cult's main concern. Just like the rest of Xanyin, they hated the constant flow of Europeans into Australis and especially Perth. It was completely taking over the country. Only unlike most, the Cult were prepared to actually do something about it.
Now, they approached a small building with thatched roofing, a traditional style that was all but extinct in this day and age. A Shrine. It was rather quaint in appearance, but also carefully positioned to allow the smoky sunshine to flash in at certain angles through tiny skylights in the roof. But for all its hidden complexity, it remained squarish and simple to the eye. Across the open doorway there hung a beaded curtain, its gaudy fake jewels glittering yet somehow dull.
Yuan stepped up to the curtain, as if to enter. Surprisingly, he stopped just short of the entrance, pausing to kneel down. His lips formed barely audible whispers, immediately silencing the others, even the whining child who had so persisted in his exaggerated complaints. They had seen this before - a charm, a blessing - it was a test of sorts, asking them to prove their identities by reciting this piece of poetry. A pass into the Shrine.
He stood, and they entered. The Shrine's interior was no less remarkable than the outside - if anything more so. They were standing in a simple, square room. The walls were lined with plain, grey concrete, but the sun shining in from the various apertures in the roof performed a dazzling light show about the walls. Even as the sun moved sluggishly across the sky, the light shifted and changed. Every minute a new plethora of patterns emerged into existence, a fantastic display of light amidst shadow. The small group was amazed, gazing enraptured at the performance. They could have watched it for hours, and still have been enthralled by the magnificence.
"I see you are enjoying my exhibition, gentlemen." Whirling to face the speaker, they beheld the ugliest of hideous crones, where a moment before there had been no one else present. She stood oddly, her back hunched over as if broken by torment or pain, a deformity that even for all its atrociousness was pale in comparison with the rest of her body. Her face, a mass of lines etched upon other, deeper lines, was sharp and bird-like, a cracked desert of repulsiveness. Only her piercing, dagger-like eyes shone warily through the shell of grossly tortured flesh. Amethyst flecked on an expanse of grey mists, they bored into the souls of the three men, while the boy simply squirmed uncomfortably, realising nothing...
Yuan straightened himself with a shake of his head, coughing hesitantly. "None of your tricks now, Ramun. You know why we're here. We wish only to prevent the foreigners' entry into Australis, nothing more and no less. I warn you, if any of us are harmed..."
The hag waved a fragile hand dismissively. "Paranoia does not become you, dear Yuan." She cackled to herself as if over an old joke, though the others found nothing amusing in her comment. "I have the solution, as you already know. Come, let us talk. I shall explain it all in clarity." With that, Ramun reached a trembling arm behind her to press the cool concrete wall. Instantly, a section of the wall slid down into the floor, automated so smoothly that the absence of sound was startling. A surprisingly wide corridor was revealed, leading down into the ground with walls of the same concrete as the room they now stood in. On her misshapen limbs, Ramun hobbled off down the passageway, beckoning for the others to follow. Thinking she was out of earshot, the youth rolled his eyes. "What kind of freak is she?" he whispered to the others before trailing along after her.
Ramun's unpleasant, rusty laugh resonated down the corridor. "Only the Head Priestess of the Southern Region, my boy. You had better watch your tongue, young Wei. You're treading in dangerous country already."
The hall led into a spacious, well-lit room that resembled a laboratory of sorts. It was hard to believe it was part of the same building, for while the public part was primitive and almost religiously designed in appearance, the secret interior that made up the main framework of the Shrine was filled with whirring machinery and modern appliances. It was most likely one of these that controlled the hidden-door mechanism. There was the odd person working at a device or chemical concoction, or pacing about the chamber for reasons unknown. The three men were ushered past all this and through the room, where they were eventually stopped at a low bench top. At a clap of Ramun's frail hands, a Priestess immediately made her way over to them, bowing courteously.
She was tall, far taller than Ramun's stooped figure, as well as being at least a good head taller than all three men. Her long jet hair was pulled back into a tight plait which trailed a fair way down her back, adding to her strict and commanding countenance. She wore the pastel orange robes of the Priestess' order - comfortably fitting and practical, appearing to be in her mid-thirties.
"My name is Tjaka-Mwen." she introduced herself politely. "I will be accompanying you on your journey. For now, give me the child and I can get started."
The fighter's usually placid face turned stony. He turned to Ramun, anger in his eyes. "You said nothing about one of your Priestesses coming with us. This is no job for a woman!"
Yuan nodded, backing up the younger man. "Dao-Sung is correct." he agreed, the lines on his face deepening as he frowned. "Unless you have something specific planned for her, our mission will be far too dangerous."
Tjaka glared at them both, her smile vanishing. "I assure you both, I have been well trained in my chosen fields. You shouldn't jump to conclusions - especially as you are as yet unaware of the details of our mission. At this stage, I am far more qualified than any of you. Now, the child?" With that, she turned back to the bench and picked up a small needle filled with a thick, pinkish liquid. At the sight of it, the young boy's blessed moments of silence instantly ruptured with a shrill wail.
"You're not going to stab me with with that thing!" he screamed, wrenching his arm from Wei's loose grip. He made for the other side of the room in a wild rush of panic, but was forced to stumble to a halt when he made the discovery that the door he had come through had vanished.
"I don't care how important he is. I'm not fetching that brat again!" Wei made his opinion clear by folding his arms and refusing to budge from where he stood. "He really is the most obnoxious, irritating, spoiled..."
"I'm sure." Tjaka grimaced.
Dao-Sung sighed and spared himself the boredom of listening to another of Wei's endless tirades by briskly walking across to the tantrum-prone boy and promptly dragging him back to the bench, though he was kicking and flailing around the entire length of the room. He shoved the screeching child into Tjaka's arms. "Take him - please."
As the Priestess took care of the boy, Ramun faced the odd group again, nodding slightly. "I think you will find that you'll have no need to worry about the child for a while, my good men. Tjaka is injecting him with a calming serum." Even she seemed partly relieved at this fact. "Now, I have some information to share, I believe."
The three men fell quiet, waiting expectantly. It was vital they paid attention, for they would never have another chance to hear their mission explained.
Ramun began: "Our society is a pitiful one. It is filled with crime, intolerance and warfare. In places other than Australis, we are known to suffer from overpopulation, famine and severe economic crisis." She paused. "That is why we are here. I have called you, the select from the Cult, here for this reason. I suppose you think I shall send you on a reconnaissance mission of sorts, yes?"
All three men reluctantly nodded, suspicion clouding their eyes as they realised that perhaps this was not to be the case at all. Wei in particular looked rather indignant. "You mean we're not going to spy on AID, then? Damn, I was looking forward to that."
He winced a moment later as Ramun's scratchy snigger reached his ears. "You may find you'll be doing more than you bargained for, my boy. As all of you will discover. You see," she continued smugly, "You are going to fix this problem at its very source."
She would have said more, but Yuan cut in. "I think it's a little too late for that." he argued. "Why, we would need an entire army!"
"Too expensive." Ramun was ready with a come-back. "And unnecessary. For you misinterpret me, old man. I am going to send you back in time. The mediaeval years, to be precise. Ring a bell? It will be approximately twenty years after Australis' colonisation from the Orient. This, my dears, is the true source of the Earth's miserable state. And all you have to do is prevent the death of a man."
The three glanced at each other and promptly burst out laughing as if on one accord. Ramun simply looked on patiently, evidently having expected a similar reaction.
"That's it, I'm leaving!" Dao-Sung shook his head after the laughter had died down. "This is a waste of my precious time."
The other two nodded. "I can't wait to get away from this female horror-house." Wei agreed decisively. "Yuan, you coming? Even you don't compare to this ancient crackpot!"
"Wait!" Ramun snapped, all traces of her calm demeanour - if there ever truly was one - abruptly vanishing. "You do not believe me to be speaking the truth? I shall explain. Tjaka!"
The tall Priestess at once nodded and turned to face the group. She held the boy in her arms. Amazingly he had ceased to gripe, instead sitting complaisantly and amiably dangling his legs. His eyes had glazed over, and he hummed an innocent tune to himself. Whatever the needle had contained, it unquestionably worked.
Jaws dropped.
"...I don't believe it." Wei muttered, turning rather pink into the bargain.
"So you see," Ramun suddenly picked up, as if nothing unusual had happened, "Anything is possible."
"Impressive." Yuan was the only male who looked remarkably unfazed, even scornful. "Still, you'll have to be far more convincing than that, I'm afraid. Anyone can make a child calm down if assisted with sedatives. But time travel? That's only somebody's half-baked idea of unachievable science, no more real than the imaginary faeries and leprechauns those Europeans seem so obsessed with."
"It just sounds too incredible." agreed Dao-Sung, who was managing to shake off his disbelief. "As much as I'd like to go along with your little plan, Ramun... it's simply impossible."
The Head Priestess glowered, fury at last beginning to get the better of her. "I guarantee the existence of time travel. Let me tell you a secret, provided you arrogant fools are capable of understanding it." At this, Tjaka smiled slightly, apparently guessing what would come next.
"I didn't come into my prestigious position by sheer luck, hard as it may be for you to believe."
Wei smirked. "Oh. Really?"
Ignoring him, the hag continued. "Throughout my life, the gods have blessed me with a powerful gift. I have been granted the ability to see past the veils of time and space. Visions of other worlds, other realities. On occasions I am offered glimpses into these dream-like possibilities. They are the shadowlands, the ever-changing worlds within the twilight of uncertainty. They are those multiple fantasies that are never quite set in stone, but neither are they completely irrational. Is that much clear?"
"Not re-" Dao-Sung began, only to be interrupted by Wei.
"Wait, I want to hear this all the way through." he grinned, winking. "Go on."
Ramun glared at them both. "The shadows reveal to me many interesting things, and not all of them are completely far from the truth." she snapped. "The reason I picked you for this mission was not only due to your skills - if you indeed possess any at all, judging from what I have seen - but also because I know a little about each of you. For instance..." she paused to lick her lips deviously, considering the alternative scenarios.
"Dao-Sung." she declared a moment later. "I know your real motivation, if what I have seen is true. I can tell you right now I don't approve of your choice. Even so, the rest of you aren't much better. Wei-" Here she broke off and scowled at him. "Is even worse, in my opinion. I'm revolted at your attitude to others... it disgusts me. I very nearly didn't include you for this mission."
Wei, for the record, was looking genuinely appalled, as were the other men. "I did nothing! Nothing! Tell me one thing I've ever done wrong!" Though his cheeks did colour a little, whether it was from guilt or infuriation it was hard to tell.
"I'd rather not. And Yuan..." To the surprise of all present, her face suddenly broke into a wry smile. "Yuan was a pretty sick-minded fellow back in his youth, also. I suspect he has learnt by now to change for the better, but even so..."
The old man frowned disapprovingly. "What are you trying to prove, Ramun? Everyone has their faults. And if you're trying to point out that us three happen to be considerably worse than most, what does that say about your quality of choice, eh? If you're supposedly so clever at this "shadowlands" business, anyone would think you'd be sending us to bring about the end of the world, not to revive it!"
"I'm sorry to say you'll never know the truth, Yuan. However, at least you admit I am right!"
"I never said anything of the sort. I was only -"
"Enough." Tjaka-Mwen at last decided to speak up. "We are going through with this, whether anyone likes it or not. Please, follow me." When nobody moved, she rolled her eyes. "Now."
She led them over to a large, open window set high in the wall. Steps led upwards in order to let one see the view above ground level. It looked across into the valley the men had noticed on their way to the Shrine. From this viewpoint the entire basin was visible. It was hardly a sight to be impressed with, really. From end to end the naturally level ground was lined with dingy lower-class bungalows - quite ugly structures, ranging in colour from brown to a dirtier, more faded rust-brown. The only area void of these unsightly obscurances was a fairly large fenced-off zone, complete with a guardhouse and barbed wire. It was the ruin. The one AID was making such a great fuss about. Despite the primitive security measures, nobody ever approached the sorry remains of what had once been a grand and magnificent fortress. Who was interested in useless stones, anyway?
"It is said," Tjaka whispered reverently, "that our fifth Emperor destroyed the fortress in a fit of jealousy. If only it had remained standing, Xanyin would be recognised as Australis' oldest city. It is a pity we could not have had a wiser ruler. Perhaps things may have been very different."
A thoughtful look crossed Dao-Sung's face. "Perhaps, indeed."
"What we do know for certain," Ramun announced, "is that this particular Emperor was not meant to have demolished it, even as it had just been converted from wood to stone. In fact, he probably should not have come to reign whatsoever. He was a descendant of the Emperor that took over after the true ruler was murdered by an unknown assassin. I believe it ought to have never happened. What I want you to do when you arrive -" she ignored the sceptical glances thrown her way, "- is to do everything within your power to prevent the Emperor's death.
Understood? Then let us proceed."
***
The group shortly found themselves back outside the Shrine's confining walls, standing on the exact same pathway they had arrived by. Ramun went instantly to business.
"Right. In a moment I shall leave you. I want you to walk back the way you came, along this ridge. Let the child lead you. It is crucial that none of you step before him, or you shall be left behind. Children are receptive in this way, you see - far more so than adults. The serum heightens that receptivity." She stepped back awkwardly into the Shrine's entrance. "Go now. Farewell, and remember that any stupid mistakes you make are your fault entirely."
With that, the little group started walking. Or shuffling, as the adult members were attempting to stay behind the still-unusually quiet child. To a stranger, it would have looked rather amusing, but it was not so for the participants.
"About time!" Wei muttered. "Gods, am I happy to see the last of that old witch!"
Dao-Sung frowned. "Who isn't? All the same, I get the feeling that there's a great deal she's not telling us. A little strange, don't you think? She brings us in to discuss our mission - and an hour later she's all ready to let us go. Hardly any preparation, no supplies... provided anything even happens, I can't help but feel that she's sending us on a suicide mission. It's either that, or a sure sign of an amateur."
"I'll take the last option, thank you very much. I never did have any desire to die, and I'm not about to change my mind to suit an ugly old hag. Besides, I feel ridiculous doing this."
They walked onwards, slowly but surely making their way along the ridge. As boredom gradually took over, the sounds of conversation died down after a while, the only words spoken being an occasional growl from Tjaka whenever someone looked as if they might step ahead. Much to the displeasure of the men, she had made it clear from the beginning that she was the leader. With her tall stature and quiet dignity she was significantly noticeable and almost as equally assertive, but thankfully not in the least similar to Ramun.
However, just as they had begun to become accustomed to the hush, an unfamiliar noise broke into the peacefulness. But for the boy, everyone jumped at the grating sound. It was, they realised a little belatedly, the raucous cry of a native bird - for all it sounded like Ramun's screechy laughter.
Yuan laughed at his own nerves. "It seems I'm getting paranoid in the beginnings of my old age!" he chuckled. "Still, it's curious that such a bird should be around these parts."
Tjaka smiled. "Look towards the valley, companions. It may tell you why the urban sprawl doesn't drive it away."
They looked, and Dao-Sung thought himself dreaming.
They looked, and Wei began to feel sick.
They looked, and Yuan quietly raised an eyebrow.
They looked, and Tjaka laughed at their reactions (except for the poor little boy who kept strolling forward, oblivious to it all).
Yet none of it really changed the fact that the rows of dull, tiresome buildings had vanished and that in their place stood an elegant, traditional village, complete with thatched roofing and all. The tremendous, splendid pine fortress stood in the centre, dominating all else. The spectacle was both striking and inspiring.
Wei, being the inept but proud person he was, passed out at that precise moment. And as Tjaka later sighed and stated: "It was just the kind of idiotic thing he would do."
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