Season 2: Episode 4 – The First Record

This series contains mature themes and is intended for adult listeners.

>Begin Porta Cor imprint.<

Wait…is this damn thing even working?

I think so. Never recorded more than a reminder before.

If my ass is about to die, I may as well record it all.

I’m stuck here in a capsule with Velg’lan guards being exiled to the desert for the most bullshit reason.

>Incoming Porta Cor transmission from Dahlfia Dewr. Do you wish to accept?<

Hell no – reject!

These smug guards with their weapons and their cold looks piss me off.

Not one of these fuckers could take me in hand-to-hand combat.

And they know it!

I could pop the head off the one sitting in the opposite corner of me. She keeps looking at me funny when the other guards aren’t looking.

What the hell is that about?

>Incoming Porta Cor transmission from UNKNOWN. Do you wish to accept?<

Unknown? Is that even possible? Never had one from an unknown.

Can I even receive transmissions while recording?

>Your Porta Cor imprint will remain on for the duration of the transmission unless you end the imprint before accepting the transmission. What would you like to do?<

Uh, hell.

I guess…accept the transmission.

“What?” I ask the caller rudely, half-expecting Dahlfia to try to sneak in a call.

“Kylah Marie, I have instructions for you.” The voice is one I don’t know.

“Oh yeah? Who are you?”

“Listen carefully. I cannot repeat this. When we get to the desert, I need you to stumble or make a scene as you get out of the capsule. I have things to give you.”

“Oh yeah? What kind of things?”

“Listen, when we drop you off, you need to set the directional marker 14 degrees west of due south. Follow that path without straying for the entire day. You should reach a pass where two cliff faces rise from the sand. Just beyond the pass, there’s a flat rocky outcropping. Set up your portable shelter there and wait.”

I glance at the guards in the capsule with me. Was it one of these fuckers?

If so, why would they want to help me?

The one who was looking at me before now looked out the window. One stared at me like she wanted to rip my head off. The other two looked at each other.

“What directional marker? What portable shelter?”

“Just be ready.”

>Porta Cor transmission with UNKNOWN disconnected.<

Fuck me. This little shit wants me to look like I’m fighting back so they can kill me.

Even though it’s dark out my window now, the terrain changed from the green around Che’el de Velg’lan to the desert of the Plains of Du’Roi. I can tell.

I feel like we’ve traveled forever. Let’s get this the fuck over with.

Desert. Dunes. Rocks. Cacti. Wait, what the hell was that flying over us?

The Velg’lan in the capsule are all looking out and upward with me.

Hell, draigtywod – fucking desert dragon.

One of the guards mutters something in Velg’lan I don’t understand, but based on tone, I’m pretty sure it’s exactly what I just thought.

Huh? Oh, I dozed off. The scenery is still the same even hours later.

We’re slowing down now. And we’ve stopped. The guards step outside, and one leans back in the capsule to where I sit. “Wait here.”

I wait while they stretch.

Then the guard who stared at me the whole ride here finally waves her hand for me to get out of the capsule, with her standing by the door.

Am I going to do what the transmission asked? I still don’t know.

I put my feet out of the capsule. As I stand, I pretend to stumble and fall from stiff legs from riding. It was true, but highly exaggerated. I’m not sure what makes me do it, but it feels right.

I fall. Sand crunches and cloth rustles. I feel the guard’s hands slide stuff into my clothing while she roughly helps me regain my footing on the slippery sand. I appreciate the skill of the sleight of hand.

I shove her hands away once I’m up. “Get the fuck off me.”

She smirks at me. They all smirk at me.

“Enjoy what’s left.” One of them yells as they climb back into the capsule. It turns around to face north and hovers off. A little dot of my last thread to that world is disappearing and gone.

I exhale and look around. The sun is coming up. What the fuck did that transmission say again?

I reach into my clothes to see what the guard tucked in there, and the first thing I pull out is the directional marker. Hell, that’s good. I’ve used these before hunting in the forests outside of Teithia. 14 degrees west of due south, is that what she said?

I program it and press the engage button, and the arrow points the way. Okay.

I’ll fucking die in the desert. But I’ll die walking in some random direction someone I don’t know gave me.

The next thing I pull out is a little bottle full of all these pills that are filled with a shimmering but mostly clear liquid. “Yeah, water capsules!”

We use these in the fighting tournaments to prevent dehydration. My odds of survival climb to about 2% from -10%.

Finally, the last item the guard gave me was a strange, little, flat, square-shaped item in a bag. 

Hell, what is that? I turn it over a few times curiously.

Finally, it registers. Oh, yeah. That’s a Tycludadwy – portable shelter. Hopefully, I will figure out how to deploy it tonight if I survive and get to where I need to go. And if the guard wasn’t lying to me.

I tuck the Tycludadwy back in my pocket. I take one of the water capsules and swallow it, then I tuck the bottle back into my pocket. 

I take my jacket off and use the sleeves to tie over my head to protect it as the sun rises. It is getting extremely hot.

With the directional marker pointing the way, I walk in pursuit of either fucking death or the pass I’m supposed to find.

My boots are not made for desert sand, and I can feel the heat through them. And it’s still early in the day, damn it all.

Look at that ugly rat-looking thing scurrying on the ground.

I’m sweating so much, my shirt is soaked. I stop, open the bottle of pills, and take another.

Oh, great joy, and here are some more dunes—no way around them. I get so exhausted walking on them. I have this strange sensation in my legs of being on a boat for too long.

What was it that Dahlfia said, “May the sand beneath your feet never slide.”

Yeah, well, this damn sand clearly didn’t get the message.

A snake. I have never seen that kind of snake before. It has a forked tail and a forked tongue. Which end is which? I could call on my Porta Cor and find out, but I’m too tired.

Wait, there are no more dunes after this little one in front of me.

No more fucking dunes!

I pass a few cacti standing together, and for a second, I pose to stand with them with my arms out like theirs. “Your lives are fucking boring,” I tell them before moving on again. The sun is finally moving downward now.

And what’s that ahead in the distance? Cliff faces with a pass in between. Looks like it unless I’m fucking hallucinating. Am I hallucinating? Porta Cor, are you still here?

>Your Porta Cor imprint is still recording.<

Porta Cor, can you tell me if I’m hallucinating?

>That is not part of my capabilities.<

Fucking useless.

>Do you wish me to stop the imprint?<

No.

Finally, the cliff faces loom before me, and I walk through this narrow pass. I hear the scurrying of lots of little feet around the rocky edges of the cliffs, but I don’t see anything.

I get through the pass, and on the other side, there is a flat outcrop hanging out to the side of the pass. It’s big enough for a portable shelter and even has places to anchor it down.

Hopefully, I can figure this shit out. I mean, I made it this far and didn’t expect to. Surely, I can figure out how to open the damn thing.

I stop and take the jacket off my head. It’s soaked and gross, but I wipe it across my face anyway. The wetness feels cool against my face.

I take the Tycludadwy out of my pocket, from the little bag where it’s stored, and turn it over in my hands.

I think I’m supposed to pull a corner. I wish I had paid more attention when people talked about stuff like this.

I pulled one corner, and nothing happened. Maybe I have the wrong corner. I tried the one diagonal from it. Nothing.

Frustrating fucker.

I yank both corners at the same time, and then the damn thing expands and nearly knocks me off the outcropping.

***POP***

Shit.

I regain my footing and see the anchor ties flapping from the bottom ends. I anchor the shelter down to the pegs in the outcropping. I wonder if the pegs are embedded in the rock because they tell people to come here so that they will be eaten by something at night.

Eating. My stomach growled in response to the thought. I was hungry. I stopped, took another water capsule, and then looked up at the sky.

The sun is sinking now, and streaks of orange, red, magenta, blue, and violet are streaking across the sky.

It’s quite pretty, like someone took some paint brushes to the sky and swirled the colors all around.

Well, when I die tonight, at least I’ll have something nice to remember. I used to think I would die remembering my little sister or Afanen as my something nice, but now, when I think of them, there’s just pain. No niceness.

I sit for a while on the outcropping watching the sun finish setting, and then I slip into the shelter.

I’m surprised how sturdy it is and how spacious it feels. There’s a bed in the corner with some blankets and a little box by a pillow. I walk over to the bed, pick up the box, and open it.

Hell, it has rawnfwyd in it – small cookie-like things full of nutrients, protein, and stuff. We eat them too before fighting, but they taste like dirt.

I am so hungry, I don’t care. I eat one anyway, and my stomach stops making noises.

Sounds outside are strange. Not loud, but quiet and soft and dangerous sounding.

For a while, I sit on the bed with my knees drawn up to my chest. I wish they had given me my weapons back when they dropped me off. I feel naked without them.

Nobody’s going to know I was here. Nobody’s going to know what happened to me out here unless I tell them. So, I’m going to keep telling it.

I miss my sister. I miss Afanen. I want to go home and have them there. They’re the only ones who understood me.

Pain is louder than memories.

****Snores*****

It smells different.

Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip.

What the hell? Huh?

Drip. Drip.

It smells like moss in here. What is dripping? Why is it so cool?

I sit up quickly and snap open my eyes, expecting to see something terrifying.

I’m in a strange cavern that’s furnished like a house. There are no windows to the outside. There are strange echoes. Echoes of water dripping. Echoes of distant voices. Echoes of distant footsteps.

Is it day? Is it night? Did I die? Where the fuck am I?

There is a pitcher of water and a glass on the table next to the bed I am in.

A chair sits beside the bed with a shawl draped over the back, as if someone had been sitting there.

There is a bookshelf with very old, ragged books on it. A table with a loaf of bread and some slices of cheese. Damn, that looks good.

My eyes are so dry that everything looks a little fuzzy.

I hear many footsteps running on the other side of the rock wall by my bed.

I see a shadow of a figure coming toward me from the open doorway to this room.

Got to be ready. Fists ready. I’m trying to stand up, but my legs are caught in the blankets.

“Easy there.” A soft female voice says to me. “You’re going to trip and fall.” Her voice sounds like music. Out of place for the atmosphere here.

“Who the hell are you?” I ask her, trying to focus my eyes. I see long curly blue hair. She’s a Croen Glas.

She eases me back into bed and untangles my feet from the blankets. “Sit there a moment before you stand to steady yourself.” It wasn’t a command, but it wasn’t an invitation for discussion either.

Then she props up some pillows for me to lean on. Her eyes come into focus. They are brilliant grass green. She is beautiful. She looks so familiar. “Do I know you?”

She grabs the plate with the bread and cheese from the table and sits in the chair beside me. She slices off a piece of bread with a couple of cubes of cheese. “Eat these.” She hands them to me. “No, you don’t know me. But I know you, Kylah Marie.”

I look at the bread and cheese for a moment, suddenly concerned they’re poisoned, but my stomach gurgles. So I start chewing the cheese. “Where are we? Is this Alltud or something?” I ask a little sarcastically with my mouth full.

I look at her again. She’s much too elegant and refined looking to be here.

“It is Alltud.” She answers evenly as she pours me a glass of water from the pitcher.

“Fuck me,” I say, surprised. “I thought it was fake.”

She smiles and hands the water glass to me after I swallow the cheese. “People don’t like to believe things like Alltud are real.” She agrees.

I take a sip of the water, and it feels so good going down my throat. I missed that in the desert.

“Who are you?” I ask her.

She hesitates as though thinking. “I’m Conwyr,” she answers. “I used to be a singer.” She admits to me with a smile.

“Oh yeah,” I say. “That’s why the tone of your voice sounds so musical.”

She nods at me, taking the glass back from me so I can continue to eat.

“Do I have to work here or something now that I’m here to stay?” I ask, not sure what I’m supposed to do in exile. What does an exile do? Now I take a bite of bread.

“Well, as soon as you’re finished here, I will take you to meet your trainers. Starting tomorrow, they will teach you all about life here. I am one of your trainers as well.”

“Really? What will you teach me?”

“How to sing, of course,” she answers.

I laugh. “I’m sure you don’t want to hear that!”

She laughs as well, and her laughter sounds like windchimes.

I finish eating and drinking water, and she stands up.

“Let’s go!” She says, and she helps me to my feet to make sure I’m steady first, and then releases me so I can walk beside her.

I walk with her out of the arched doorway and into a larger room set up as a living room might be, but with a cavernous feel to the walls and floor: no windows, but cool air blowing in from somewhere. I look up into the highly arched ceiling and all around me. The room is huge for a living room.

I walk with her out of another, larger arched doorway after she pushes open the wooden double doors set into the archway, and we step into a hallway. As I look beyond the hallway, I realize it’s a suspended walkway of stone that we’re on.

We are in a massive cavern with suspended stone walkways running through it, with wooden doors off them every so often.

My mouth drops open in wonder, and Conwyr smiles knowingly at me. “Impressive, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. Are we underground?”

“Yes, completely.”

“It’s so spacious. I would have never expected it.”

She takes me to another walkway, and we go several doors down. She knocks, and I hear voices inside, “Come in.”

She opens the door and then shuttles me into the room with her.

At a round table, drinking mugs of ale, four others are seated, and one other stands in the back corner with her arms folded, watching.

“Everyone, this is Kylah Marie. Kylah, this…” she motions to the first Croen Llwyd male “is Rebane.” He nods to me.

Then she points to the Croen Glas male sitting next to Rebane, “This is Montvie.” He seems to study me for a moment.

Next, she points out the Croen Gwyrdd female, “This is Lidel.”

She points to the Croenddu female in the corner. “That’s Rhyddid.” She tips her head respectfully from the shadows.

“And that…,” she points to the last Croen Llwyd male at the table, sitting directly opposite where I stand with Conwyr, “…is Twyloo.” He looks irritated.

I watch them all without saying anything, not sure what to say. They are a hodgepodge of personalities and histories. I can tell.

Everyone stares back at me. It feels like I’m being assessed before a match.

Suddenly, everyone drains their ale and begins to leave the room.

Montvie walks by me and says quietly so only I can hear, “Keep your wits about you.”

I step out with Conwyr, and Twyloo emerges from the room last. He stares at me.

The brighter light in this open cavern than in the darkened room reveals intense hostility as his eyes lock onto mine.

“Teithia females aren’t built for places like this.”

He starts to walk off, but he turns back with a smirk.

He looks me over from head to toe and adds, “But I suppose we’ll find out.”

No one does or says anything for a moment.

Then Conwyr looks over all of them and at me. “Tomorrow you begin.”

>End Porta Cor imprint.<