Dream Planet. Book 1. Star Maze

Chapter 4. Friend among strangers, stranger among friends

Chapter 4. Friend among strangers, stranger among friends

One hundred and forty minutes later

White carefree silence, cold and an unusual sense of calm. The pleasant feeling of a deep sleep, the kind you don't want to wake from so as to avoid remembering the nightmare of the day before. Unfortunately for Marcius, his mind awoke sooner than his body. Straining every cell in his body, he tried to open his eyes, but his stubborn eyelids failed to do as they were told, as if held down by the weight of all Seven Worlds all at once. He heard the sound of his own breath, so quiet it seemed to be coming from the other end of the universe. Feeling slowly returned to his legs, along with a sharp sensation of pain. He wanted to scream, but couldn't.     

"Human!" he heard a voice say right into his ear.

"Human!" he heard it yet again.

"How strange, no one's ever called me that before. Why is it so strange? Only because I am indeed a human. I wonder who got the bright idea of climbing into my house and rousing me in such a manner?" thought Marcius, quite certain he was in the comfort of his own home.  

"Gayla! It's definitely her. It's a woman's voice. Maybe she's looking for Karii? Maybe something happened?" This phrase continued to loop through his mind like a song stuck on repeat. His brain refused to unite the idea of Karii with the idea that something had happened.

"Everything's fine, everything's fine!" he repeated to himself over and over, not wanting to remember what had happened. He might have even succeeded in convincing himself that everything was in fact just fine if not for the pesky, persistent voice.   

"Human! Human!" it continued to shout at him.

Suddenly, Marcius opened his eyes. Too suddenly. He was blinded by a bright light. Everything that happened flashed before his eyes in an instant. Unbearable pain pierced his body and soul alike. The cold feeling of loneliness and fear brought him to a stupor. Looking around, Marcius realized that he's inside of a viscous white cocoon, immobilizing him with contractions of immeasurable strength. His own heartbeat thundered frantically in his ears like a brass hammer.   

"Get yourself together! No need for panic. You're alive, and that's already something considering that your last memory is of a Kramean trap," he thought, trying to regain his bearings.

"Human!" the voice pressed on.

Right above his head the fibers of the cocoon started to come apart at the seams, unpleasantly tickling his nose. Gradually the cocoon dissolved completely and scattered to the ground in snowy wisps. Marcius saw he was inside a clear glass cone, all by himself, in the middle of a large hall. But who was shouting?

He lifted himself up and put a hand to the glass. It was thick and monolithic. He circled all around the cone, but found not a single gap. Exasperated, he hit the glass forcefully with his hand, but the construction was so strong and stable that he didn't even elicit a vibration. He figured he was somewhere on Krama at this point, somewhere inside the giant pyramid.

From his transparent prison Marcius was able to examine its interior. It was truly enormous, reaching far up into the sky and coming together in a clear glowing vertex that let in the rays of Onyx. The ornamental walls and floor cast their reflections towards his cone.

Never before had the Tulonian found himself alone in such a large and empty space. He started anxiously examining the writing on the multidimensional surfaces around him. It was in ancient Kramean, which Marcius was unfamiliar with. It was only ever used in rituals.  

The hall started to fill up with Krameans. Without going too far in, they lined up right along the walls. They were dressed in hooded robes, more like priests than soldiers in appearance.

They merged around him into a perfect square and sung out a strange long sound, after which they collapsed onto their knees, stretching out their long slender hands towards Marcius. This was too much. Marcius couldn't understand what was going on. He was being treated as either a deity or a sacrifice to be presented in praise of the gods. But Krameans don't worship Tulonian warriors; they don't honor them, but kill them coldly and cruelly, usually in battle.  

Marcius stood up straight and tall, crossing his hands across his chest. He was disgusted by what was happening, a feeling that intensified as one of them broke free of the procession started to approach him.

It was a young woman. She came from the left corner of the square. A dog appeared after her, jumping over the heads of the Kramean ranks. The dog's appearance was surprising, mainly because it was a Murian dog, chimerian in breed. A Murian chimera walking alongside a priestess at the heart of a Kramean temple was truly an unexplainable phenomenon.  

The girl's expensive ornaments put her apart her from the rest - evidently, a symbol of her superior ranking. She walked quickly and with confidence, as if in a hurry to say something. The dog ran along beside her.  

She had an overwhelming air of self-assurance which bordered on arrogance. She held her head and shoulders very straight, her nose and chin slightly elevated and was smiling openly. On Tulona such a smile was considered inappropriate - just as was strong and intensive eye contact. Luckily, her radiance was balanced out by the dog. It was old and its skin was riddled with scars, the largest of which cut straight across its face. It had a slight limp, and unlike its mistress, it was gloomy and cautious.    

The Kramean walked right up to the glass cone and came to a halt.  

The girl was beautiful by Kramean standards: perfectly even dark skin, a symmetrical face with hazel eyes, plump lips and a playfully lifted left brow. Her smooth hair was neatly braided into countless little braids and crowned with a silver glittering headpiece, creating a halo of rays around her head and an appearance of lightness and slenderness. It seemed she had the energy and charisma to captivate whomever she pleased, but Marcius found her whole appearance so alien that he was unable to hide his true emotions.    

The girl looked at Marcius as if she'd known him for a thousand years. Marcius, on the other hand, was tense and on guard. He composed his face into a mask that hid all traces of anxiety, but on the inside he was on fire. The limited space of the cone gave him no chance to move away from her. Clenching his fists, he had to bear the uncomfortable proximity of the Kramean.  

"Welcome," she said with a bow.

The dog carefully sat down beside her.

"My name is Atla Tida. I am the daughter of Lan Tida, the head shaman. In the name of my father and my people, we are happy to have you here on our planet!"

With these words, the others once again bowed down in his direction.

Marcius could not understand where such a radiant tone was coming from. She addressed him as if he'd come here of his own free will. The priestess tried to be friendly and welcoming, but her efforts came off as forced and overeager, and did not produce the desired effect. Marcius was all too familiar with the deceitful nature of the red world and trusted neither their words nor their smiles. The girl spoke perfect Tulonian, but he answered back in Kramean, if only to avoid tarnishing his mother tongue by speaking it on the enemy planet.   

"My planet handed me over to you?" he asked.

"Your friend handed you over to us!" she replied.

Marcius continued to reside in a state of utter confusion.

"What do you want with me? Why did you bring me here?"

"We only want to help you achieve your purpose," she said.

Marcius narrowed his eyes in suspicion and asked:

"Why do you want that?"

"Because the fate of our world depends on how quickly and effectively you achieve it," she replied.

"My purpose and the fate of your world have nothing in common," he said sternly, "And if the fulfillment of my purpose would be to your benefit, I'd rather do nothing at all!"

"I know you see us as enemies, but-"

"No," he cut her off, "I don't see you as my enemies, you are my enemies! There is nothing more to discuss!"

Atla was eager to continue the conversation, but Marcius' disposition was so hostile that she stopped. It's like he constructed an invisible wall around himself. He was completely closed off and so shaken that she decided to leave it. He wasn't going to give her what she wants.

"From now on you belong to us!" she snapped, turned her back, walked back across the room and out the door. The rest followed her suit. Marcius was left all alone in complete ignorance.    

The temple of the head shaman. Two days later.

The thing Atla disliked most of all was reporting to her father, especially when that meant admitting her own shortfalls. And that evening her honour called upon her to face up to her failure in front of him. She walked swiftly down the smooth tiles. Her overseer Tatida was now her only hope - the old woman was the only one capable of calming her father's rage. Sounds of drums and horns came from the city square below. They vibrated along the floor, making the girl lose her train of thought. Taking a couple of deep breaths, gathering herself, she stopped in front of the entrance.      

Atla opened the doors with a wave of the hand and entered into the long, towering hall. Her father sat at the other end upon a throne cut like a diamond. The worst part was that he already knew everything ahead of time, seeing as he could read her mind and was stronger than she was. No barriers were powerful enough to keep him out of her head.

Atla approached the throne and bowed. Her father gave a majestic and proud nod. He was calm and smiled when he saw her. Tatida along with a few other trusted advisers stood behind him, waiting for her arrival.

Lan was no longer young, but he was still very handsome, with typical Kramean features - dark skin with a golden undertone, large brown eyes, thick eyelashes, a high forehead, a powerful jutting chin and a well-defined jawline. He wore a long priestly robe adorned with precious stones and mystical symbols. Along with Kramean beauty he also embodied their temperament. The shaman was quick-tempered and emotional. Many feared him, as he was capable of wreaking irreparable havoc in a fit of passionate rage.

"Hello, father," she bowed.

"Did you manage to get the visions?" he asked her mockingly.

Atla lowered her eyes apologetically.

"I see not," said Lan, displeased.

"We've placed him inside the strongest temple, we've been trying to get to him for two days now using our most powerful crystals, and still nothing!" said the girl in desperation.

"Are you sure he doesn't know what you are trying to do?" her father asked her sternly. "Maybe he's putting up blocks, resisting?"

"Yes, he suspects something. His thoughts are clear and easy to see, but I still can't find the key to his visions," Atla admitted with disappointment.

"And you?" he snapped at Tatida.

The psychic descended and stood between him and Atla.

"I tried it all with my own two hands," she said, stretching out her wrinkled old hands in front of her. "You know the power they contain, and yet I was unable!"

Atla was very surprised - she hadn't even considered that Tatida might have personally attempted to grapple with the visions. She was more disappointed in the failure of the old witch than even her own.

"He's not letting up at all," said Tatida in annoyance, "He is protected by something overwhelmingly powerful. I have never before encountered such resistance, and I've seen a lot in my day!"

"I see you're losing it, you old witch!" The shaman retorted, "Lead me to him, and I'll show you how it's done!"

"Father," said Atla timidly, "Perhaps the universe prevents us from meddling with his mind because we have no right to do so?"

"Nonsense," the shaman grinned deviously, "This boy is an extension of our collective consciousness. For how many thousands of years now each world is dreaming of turning their planet into a paradise! How many people have perished in backbreaking labour, poisoned by the elements of their own planet! It's been a long time coming, and now he's finally here, and it's completely unsurprising that he's seeing the world we need. The Gods are only using him to enlighten everyone else. And we have the right to take him, since his gift does not belong to him!"   

The shaman was cruel and radical, as always. He had no empathy for anyone and could justify any action by appeal to the greater good.

"Let's go!" he repeated his order.

Tatida shook her head, but didn't bother trying to change his mind.

The shaman was handed a rook - an elongated stone figure that the Krameans used to fly over the city.   

Having seated his daughter along with the psychic, he headed towards the pyramid holding Marcius. Making a few laps around, tuning in to the Tulonian's thoughts, examining his energy and configuration, he soared decidedly towards the top, and that is where he stopped, floating in the air.

"I'm shocked that this is taking up so much of your time," he scoffed, "Just your typical Tulonian, with not a single higher ability developed! He's not a seer or a shaman, he's a nobody!"

Tatida closed her eyes with a smile. "What if his powers are hidden in the depths we don't have access to?" she suggested.  

"Do such depths even exist?" asked the shaman doubtfully.

"Go see for yourself, he's all yours," she said, gesturing at Marcius with her hand.

The shaman was floating right above the tip of the pyramid, right in line with where Marcius was below. Having aligned himself, he closed his eyes and compressed his skull with invisible hands.  

Marcius continued to sit in his confinement. He could see neither the rook above the pyramid nor the shaman. He only felt a slight tinge of unrest.

Lan gathered up all his willpower and started the process. Marcius didn't react. His thoughts, feelings and fears were on the surface plain to see, but the visions sat so deep that they evaded the shaman's stealthy grasp.  

"Help me," he said with scorn.

"You can't do that!" Atla retorted.

"You'll kill him!" Tatida exclaimed.

"That's an order!" Lan yelled.

Atla stood beside her father and took Marcius by the wrists. Tatida put a hand on his chest. They amplified the influence, putting all their powers to work.

Marcius felt stuffy and lay down.

He had no idea that he was being torn apart by three of the most powerful sorcerers, but intuitively put up a strong block. He started to pray, although that's not something he usually did. He called upon the help of his brothers the Lauons - his ancestors and the heroes of the ancient world. He called the wolves to help him, the patrons of his house. He asked the Tulonian god to protect him.

"Unthinkable!" said the shaman.

Tatida nodded.

"What do you see?" he asked Atla.

"We've managed to dig up his memories, but the visions are still a mystery," Atla said quietly. Everything is very clear - his thoughts as well as his past, but the visions are hidden from us by something thick and immobile."

"What do you have to say about his future?" he sternly asked Tatida.

The psychic gave out the verdict:

"I see many options. His life will always be hanging by a thread, and it's unclear when exactly it will break. I can only say one thing: this boy will achieve something great. The guardians are very strong and will not let him leave this life until he's finished what he came for! Leave him!"

The shaman suddenly released his head, Alta - his wrists, and Tatida removed her hand from his chest. Marcius immediately felt better.

"So then! I suppose this means we'll have to be friends!" the shaman smiled deviously, glancing at Marcius with a hint of jealousy.

"We'll definitely be able to," said Tatida, "But what about him?"

"We'll only be able to access his visions if he gives them up himself," said Atla, "He needs to become one of us."

"Well then! I have faith in you," said the shaman, "And also: no one on Krama can know that we weren't able to break him!" he added.

Tatida looked at Atla:

"We'll continue with the story of Karii's betrayal," she decided, "Loss of faith in his most trusted friend will weaken his will. He will be desperate to fill the emptiness. And you, my dear, must try to be gentle with him."

"He despises me!" Atla refused, "He hates us all and is too loyal to his world, can't you see that?"

"Everything can change," Tatida smiled.

Two Kramean hours later.

Marcius sat in the center of his cone and looked up with tired eyes. For two days now he's had no visitors. Only water sometimes appeared all by itself in the glass grooves, overflowing them and dripping down like tears. It was night, and the interior of the pyramid was in darkness, only partially illuminated by the weak light coming from the three satellites.

The faint sound of footsteps came from a distance. Marcius turned his head to look. The priestess appeared out of the darkness like a ghost, all dressed in white. She was the same one he's seen earlier. She still had the dog with her, but this time she was dressed simply - a flowy dress with her hair let down, with no jewelry or crown. She walked barefoot down the hard stone of the temple, lightly and at ease. She greeted Marcius as she approached his cone, sat down and from her wrist removed Karii's magnetic notebook. She opened it up and started to read. The dog lay down beside her, solemnly looking ahead.

Marcius stood up and walked up to the glass. He clearly remembered that Karii was still wearing the bracelet as he cut the chord, and knew that the Krameans did not have such technology.

"Karii is here?!" he asked.

The girl pretended not to hear. She ay her head down on the dog's back, getting comfortable, and continued to read:

"Yet again, no one believes Marcius. Yesterday we went for a long walk, and today he fell asleep during the Kramean lesson. I didn't give him away - he did that all by himself. He saw something and screamed. Everyone started to look at him, smirking. The teacher took him away to the infirmary. It's unbearable to watch him being haunted by those visions, and there's only one cure. If only he would find that world!"

Atla gave him a long look and said:

"It's written ten years ago, yet here we are, still with those same problems."

"How dare you!" Marcius yelled at her, "How did you get his journal?!"

"Whose journal?" she asked, bewildered.

"Karii's journal! My friend's journal!" Marcius yelled, his face going red.

"Are you sure about that?" she asked him with a sly smile.

"About what?" he looked at her with disdain.

"About Karii being your friend," she confirmed.

"I'm certain!" Marcius said with conviction.

"I, however, beg to differ," she said, stressing every syllable.

"I don't care what you think!" Marcius blurted out angrily, "I don't believe that he betrayed me. You set it up!"

Atla didn't reply. She stood up gracefully, came up to the glass and showed him the notebook. He couldn't take it, of course - he could only look. Up close he saw that the cylinder was golden, not silver like the one that Karii had. The priestess turned it over, revealing a coat of arms inscribed on the bottom. It was a lizard, and it belonged to the priestly Tida clan. The girl opened the journal again and showed him the writing and the images. They were all labeled as copies and stamped with the date they were received.   

Marcius felt something clench inside his chest. He felt his whole body go cold. The priestess was clearly letting him know that his friend was providing them with information about him this whole entire time.

"That's exactly right!" she said, reading his thoughts.  

"Karii's been watching you because we told him to. There are two such bracelets - one is his, and one is ours. Everything that he records we immediately see here on our end as a copy."

"I don't believe you!" Marcius said, his voice breaking.

"Furthermore," she continued, "When the time came, he gave you over to us for good! You saw it happen with your own eyes."

"Shut up!" he yelled. He started to bang on the glass. "What do you want from me??"

The priestess ignored him. She got up and walked towards the exit, taking the dog with her.

"Think it over!" she shouted back to him just before leaving the room.  

Marcius remained defeated, completely drained and completely alone.

"Could it be that he actually betrayed me?" Marcius thought with a shudder, "Could it really be that all these years he was gradually betraying me, bit by bit?"

The seeds of doubt planted by the priestess started to sprout in his mind and poison his soul. He started to seriously consider what she had said. He racked his brain for everything to do with Karii - their conversations, their mutual dreams, their actions. His friend really was possessed with the idea of recording everything into his notebook. He never showed an interest for language or literature, and he wasn't a meticulous sort of person, but that notebook was like some sort of personal mission for him - he was so consistent with his entries. There could only be one explanation. Karii had been brainwashed by the Krameans when he was still a child. They could have planted the idea of keeping a journal into his head without him even fully understanding what was going on. In order to do that, they would have had to reach out to him in person. But where? At what moment? When? The Krameans' sorcery was powerless on Tulona, therefore it had to have happened elsewhere.     

Marcius sat with his forehead pressed against the glass, digging in the past. He hadn't slept in two days and could bear it no longer. His eyelids grew heavy, his neck and shoulders grew weak. He lay down on the floor and started to drift off.

In this transitional moment between sleep and wakefulness he was overtaken by visions. He was unable to resist - they engulfed him completely. He saw the vastness of the night sky stretching over the foreign world. He was alone amidst a snowy field, gazing up above. The vision was so vivid that he could even feel the cold. He stood in the snow with bare feet, feeling it melt beneath them as a blizzard swirled all around. He was shivering, but kept on looking up. He was captivated by the stars. The sky was so bright and beautiful! He could see every constellation in detail, even pick up on the shades of the planets and the stars. It was indescribable. He'd never before experienced his visions so clearly - it seemed that in this moment they were more vivid than real life.

The visions slowly transitioned into a deep sleep. He was finally able to rest.