Somewhere Beyond Chapter Four

Chapter 4: Say Hello to the Dead Greetings

    Emerald sat at the table as she wanted for Ian to prepare the 'lunch'. By living standards, it was going to be more of a snack - Ian had acquired some delicacies on the cheap, as they were about to expire.
    "Like most food here," Ian had said, "They last for a long time, and don't expire enough to kill us. But these are about to undergo a significant chemical change, and afterwards, will not be nearly as delicious."
    Emerald wondered what, exactly, Ian was going to serve up. Hopefully 'delicious' applies for me, too. It'd be a little embarassing, otherwise, she thought.
    Ian entered from his kitchen, bearing two plates. On each, delicately arranged, were what looked like small eggs - perhaps five or six on each plate. He set one down in front of Emerald as she asked, "What are these?"
    "They are similar to..." Ian paused for a moment, "M&Ms, I am told, in structure. A solid, but thin, outer shell, with different contents. These are not chocolate, however, and the outside is not tasteless. Describing the taste itself is somewhat hard, but everyone I have seen eat one has enjoyed them. They are made based upon the recipe of a master delicatessanier, and are usually called 'sweet eggs'."
    Emerald picked one up and looked at it closely. "Are they just sweet?" she asked.
    "Give one a try," said Ian. It'll answer any taste questions faster."
    Emerald popped the egg into her mouth, and felt the shell dissolve almost instantly. The contents launched an assault on her tastebuds, overloading them with one simple message - delicious. "Fuck!" said Emerald, "These are fantastic!"
    Ian smiled, and popped one into his mouth.

    After finishing the eggs, Emerald said, "Thank you. A lot. Those were incredible."
    "So," Ian said, "Do you have any new questions? There is a lot to this world."
    "A couple. First one is, what's happened to all the famous people?" Emerald asked. "Kings, princesses, modern celebrities, whatever."
    "Most are fades, and those that aren't from older times were almost all warlords, who have long since been locked up. Fades have trouble maintaining power, and often end up in a situation where someone takes advantage, or revenge, if they were royalty in life. Modern 'celebrities' tend to be those who need to be able to speak loudly, or look colourful, or gain mass exposure - all three of which are somewhat impossible for fades," explained Ian.
    "The great poets, and playwrights, and song writers, and many great creative minds have often kept up their arts; and many passed some of their skills on to those like me as well (especially the more physical arts, such as sculpting). Actors and singers, however, are drawn from those like mysef, as we can be loud, and colourful, with ease. Actually, some who found later fame find it amusing or honouring to be thought of as such by their descendants."
    "I guess it's kind of hard to obsessed anymore with someone you'll probably never see or hear about again. I'll bet a lot of people try to meet as many celebrities as possible though, yeah?" asked Emerald.
    "You are right. Your other question?"
    "Children, babies, teenagers. Any difference?"
    "No. They appear as they feel they are. Most - all except those too young to speak - believe they will grow and mature, and change if they believe they should have after dying. Many deliberately do so, eventually, if they no longer feel the appeal of being an eternal child. Those too young to understand grow into understanding without physically growing; which has led to some terrible cases.
    "There have also been a couple of cases where those like myself have come here young, oft brought accidentally by their parents. They age to roughly twenty-five and then cease aging, although the aging process takes twice as long."
    "Cool. Last thing - what's the weird thing about this place you said would take ages to explain?"
    "Actually, Mikhail told me a rather simple way to explain it when I expressed how complex it was to him. You understand how the earth is round, and the surface basically wraps around?"
    "Yes, of course I do."
    "This world is like that; but the sky is similarly shaped. That is, the surface is an inwards facing skin around the sky. Both are true at once."
    "What. That's impossible."
    "If you add in an extra dimension or two - we're not exactly sure how many - it is. We've tested this - we sent anti-gravity devices straight up from opposite sides of the world; the pilots met in the middle."
    Emerald sat silently. "Oh, whatever," she said after a little while, "It's not like any of the rest of it makes proper sense either."
    "A commendable approach. It's a bother to wrap your head around, but it is what is, and there seems to be no changing that."
    "Thanks. My last question for now - what was that meat-like stuff we ate earlier? There are no animals here, right?"
    "There are not. The 'meat' is usually processed stone (as it was in this case) or plant matter. Some of the minerals here are in fact quite edible, with varying taste. Only a few make a decent substitute, of course."
    "So we're all like, vegetarian?"
    "More or less, yes. There are individuals and groups that indulge in cannibalism, however."
    "Ew. So fades eating each other, and you guys eating each other, and maybe a bit of mix and match?" Ian nodded silently, and Emerald continued, "Ew. That's kind of disgusting."
    "Indeed."
    Emerald leaned back in her chair. "Do you have time to walk me through the swordwork again?"
    "I do. Now?"
    "'Course!"

    They spent the afternoon in training, Emerald using her sword. After walking her through the attacks and defences from high ward, Ian started explaining the differences in attack from other wards.
    "For the most part, especially with the wards I have shown you, it is fairly obvious which attacks you can and cannot perform. For example, from hidden you cannot immediately launch head attacks - in fact, this is true of many wards. Similarly, a stab means moving into one of the wards where the blade is positioned such that you may make the requisite motion," Ian said, "Try making every attack you believe you can from the wards I have taught you."
    "Well, stop me if I do anything wrong," said Emerald.
    Ian watched Emerald as she shifted between wards, making strikes from each ward. Occasionally he had to explain why a certain attack was ineffective if launched in such a manner, though possible, or that certain attacks could in fact be performed from certain wards. For the most part it proved intuitive, and Ian was pleased with Emerald's progress.
    After each attack possible had been made from each ward, Ian took Emerald through a training set of twenty strikes in each combination. When she was finally done, he said, "If you are confident you remember enough of the basics, you may want to run through everything on your own a few times. Practice makes perfect, as they say."
    "'kay", said Emerald. "How much else is there to teach?"
    "An incredible amount," said Ian. He started counting off things on his fingers. "There is striking of the blade, how to launch attacks well from a blow, practice against myself rather than without an opponent, additional blocks, wards and attacks, footwork, dodging and ducking, grappling, other hand to hand attacks, how to deal with swords of different lengths, how to deal with other weapons, shieldwork (of various sizes), how to deal with shields, weaknesses and strengths of different types of armour, how to read your opponent... And more."
    "This is going to take a long time, isn't it."
    "Yes, if you wish to learn it all and master it. But that is a choice you must make, not I."
    Emerald sat down on the ground, setting the sword beside her, to rest her tired arms as she thought. Emerald thought, how long do I want to stay here? Indefinitely? How long is his research going to take? What else am I going to do, that I have to get impatient over and leave because of? Hell, I doubt anyone I know will die in the next hundred days, so that's more than twice my lifetime right there. So I can stay long enough to get good at  this, and hopefully for Ian to finish his research. But, hm, it's not like I need to dedicate to anything, hehe.
    At her last thought, Emerald said with a smile, "Maybe. We'll see, I guess."

    The training session complete, the pair headed inside as the sky darkened. As they wandered inside, Emerald asked, "How is your research going, Ian?"
    "At the same pace as it has for the past seventy years - slowly. But my main research aside, there is perhaps something you can test for me tomorrow, or the next day, hopefully."
    "What kind of thing?"
    "There are a couple of devices - though rarely made, and difficult to create - that allow a fade to speak or hear better. They work similarly to loudspeakers and ear horns; and are similarly structured. The trouble lies in the magic used to amplify the sounds, and the cost of the materials that make up the devices; as well as in the general impracticality of all fades using such devices at the same time.
    "One of the other things I have been investigating is the creation of a smaller device that would also be cheaper, and easier, to create. It is the first step towards creating devices that can be mass produced and aid all fades. That aside, I have prototypes that I would be honoured to have you test for me."
    Emerald, beaming, said "Sure! Awesome!" She paused, and then said, less enthusiastically, "How well will they work?"
    "With luck, and if I have constructed them correctly, they will amplify your voice, and the sounds you hear, such that you may converse normally. The most likely issue will be the loudest the voice amplifier can make your voice being less than the correct relative loudness, but from tests I completed by myself in the past it seems to work admirably."
    "How do they work?" asked Emerald, unable to stop smiling.
    "The intended use is through piercings - one on the tongue and one for each ear. The devices themselves are fairly small studs (though a little larger than the norm). The tongue piercing needs to be somewhere central on the tongue, and the ear piercings need to be positioned such that the stud is as close to the ear as possible. They... May be a tad heavy; likely not the ear piercings but the tongue stud may weigh down your tongue somewhat."
    "I'd test it even if it didn't work very well. Not having to yell all the time, being able to hear things drop to the ground, hear myself walk around... It's like a step back towards normalcy."
    "With luck, they will be ready in the morning. And, thank you for accepting my offer."
    "I think I'll go crash now, and let you get to it. I'm as tired as heck. And excited. Hope I can sleep."
    Ian smiled. "I will see you in the morning. Goodnight."
    "Goodnight!" Emerald said, and bounced up the stairs happily. Ian sighed, and grinned as he headed to the above ground room he worked on the devices in.

    When Emerald awoke the next morning, she noticed that the light outside was already fully bright. You know what would be useful, she thought, a clock in here. Pretty sure I saw a big one downstairs. Might ask Ian about it; looked like it had stopped ages ago. She yawned, stretched, quickly got dressed, fixed her hair, and wandered off to search for Ian.

    Totally time for another bath, she thought as she left her room.
    She found Ian downstairs, busy fiddling with the devices. "Hey," Emerald said, interrupting his work.
    "Hm? Oh, good morning Emerald. I have finished the two hearing devices, but I am having a bit of trouble with the voice amplifier," Ian said.
    "Should I leave you alone, then?" asked Emerald.
    "That might be wisest," said Ian. "Although! You may try the hearing amplifiers now, if you wish." Ian indicated a pair of studs. They looked slightly greenish - Emerald guessed that they were probably actually green - and metallic, with a small bits of what looked like a red and black gem peeking through from inside the head of the stud.
    "I'm up for it," said Emerald. "How are we going to pierce my ears, though?"
    "Ah," said Ian. "I had not considered that. I have been simply placing them in a device to hold them steady and simulate the shape of the mouth or ear, so far, or resting them in my ear or on my tongue. I can probably pierce your ear myself, with the stud, if you feel you can take the pain."
    "Let's do it," said Emerald, sitting down on a chair and pulling back her hair.
    Ian picked up the studs and walked over to Emerald. He placed one in his pocket, and detached the other from its clasp. "Ready yourself," he said, as Emerald turned her head so that her right ear pointed upwards.
    Emerald steeled herself as Ian bent her ear up, and positioned the sharp point of the stud such that the stud would be optimally positioned. "On three. One, two, three!" Ian said, and stabbed the point of the stud through Emerald's ear.
    Emerald gasped in pain, and said "Ow." Ian attached the clasp, fixing the stud on Emerald's ear.
    "Can you hear me better?" Ian asked Emerald.
    "Yes!" she replied, "And I can hear better now, too. It's no longer like I'm whispering the whole time, thank god."
    "Flip your head and we'll do the other ear."
    As Emerald turned her head, she asked, "Are you sure this is safe? It won't get infected or anything?"
    "Nothing gets infected, here, except by rare contaminants that are not biological. Fades especially. The wounds will bleed for a little, but will heal quickly."
    "Alright." Ian readied the second stud.
    "On three. One, two, three." Ian pushed the second stud through Emerald's ear, and clasped it while Emerald winced.
    "The tongue will be fun," said Emerald. "I guess I'll leave it to you now, and go see how well these things works?"
    "Please do so. I'll ask you some questions about them in the evening, I think."

    Emerald wandered through Ian's home, occasionally tromping on her feet to hear the sound. She tapped her fingers on the windows, and tapped gently on a fade-glass in Ian's kitchen.
    This is one worry solved, she thought. I - I'm going to have to do something amazing for Ian. This is getting... Actually, this is already ridiculous. How on earth can I repay someone this charitable even slightly?
    I could try seducing him, but I that's less repayment and more getting out of paying - and paying in that way is both whorish and probably incredibly awkward for Ian. I'll wait and see what I can do to make it up to him. Hopefully there'll be something. There's certainly enough time to do so in.
    Emerald wandered upstairs, and looked out one of the windows. The forest stretched on and on, as far as she could see; becoming faint towards the horizon. The trees themselves were mostly similar, leaveless forms, but some had leaves, and others were bent in strange shapes, or had two trunks, and more.
    This place would be awesome to travel in, if you could keep yourself safe, she thought, staring at the horizon. Suddenly, some movement caught her eye.
    About half a kilometre from the mansion, a small group of fades - maybe seven or eight - were making their way through the forest. They seemed to be headed towards the mansion. Who are they, thought Emerald. Should I go- no, bandits and shit, go get Ian.
    Emerald quickly made her way back to the room Ian was preparing the voice amplifier within. As he turned towards her, she said, "There's a group of fades coming to the mansion. Seven or eight, I think? Thought you should know. They didn't look like they had solid armour on, either."
    "Thank you," said Ian. "I will go talk to them, and find out why they are here. It is probably best if you stay here - combat wise you are a liability, and it may come to that. I would suggest watching from upstairs, as well."
    "I'm not fond of the idea of dying again yet," replied Emerald, "So staying far away suits me. The fades were off, um, that way." Emerald pointed vaguely at the direction she had seen the fades in. As Ian stood up, Emerald said, "Good luck."
    "Thank you," replied Ian, heading from the room briskly.

    Ian made his way to his armoury, and retrieved his katana. The blade, light and designed for cutting, excelled at slicing up fades; though it was of far less use against beasts or solids - or even armoured fades. The light weight was also advantageous in that Ian could use it for days, or weeks, at a time before tiring; important if one was trapped in a mad swarm.
    He tightened the sheath over his back - he had been told some time ago that it was a 'cooler spot to put it', and he needed to be able to intimidate the fades, if necessary. He strode off, and out the front door, closing it fully behind him.
    Looking out into the forest, he spotted the group of fades. There were eight; and they looked like - and probably were - bandits. He started walking towards them, arms at his sides. They seemed to have noticed him, and when he stopped roughly eight metres from them and signed "Greetings," at them.
    The group of fades stopped, and one of them came forwards, signing "You. You are ours, now. Owned by the Dead Greetings gang. And that pretty house of yours? Our new base."
    "How long have you been here?" Ian signed. "I am not as you are."
    One of the other fades whispered in the talker's ear. The talker then signed, "Doesn't matter, we'll kill you anyway."
    "How much do you know about solids?" signed Ian. "Not enough, obviously."
    The group started encircling him threateningly. "Last chance, idiot," signed the talker.
    Ian drew his katana, and then said, aloud, "I will take you, the talker, and interrogate you as to where you all came from. Then, should you return, I will find your camp, kill you all, and free those you have taken. This, I promise."
    Though shaken for a second at the loudness of Ian's voice, the fades charged at him. Ian swept his katana up through the closest, slicing him in half.  Ian span around, slicing a second from right shoulder through left hip. The surviving fades backed up, staring in horror at their dead friends.
    Ian flicked the pale blood that dripped from his blade at the fade who had been doing the talking. He jammed the katana into the ground, and signed, "Tell me where you came from, and I shall let you all leave without further harm."
    "Though you may kill us, you will never be able to kill all of us! We will come for you, and destroy you! We number thousands!" the talker signed emphatically.
    "Then telling me where you live is no threat to you, and being let go means you can tell your friends all about me," signed Ian in response.
    "We come from the north. And we shall see you soon!" signed the talker, before bolting. The other five fades followed. Ian stood, watching them leave, before turning to loot the corpses.

    Emerald waved at him as he returned through the front door. Ian waved back, and dumped the fade-clothing and other things he had taken - the undamaged things - and said, "I'm going to need to leave for a few days to handle this."
    "What happened? I saw you cut two of them in half, and then they bolted, but I'm not really sure what went on," Emerald asked.
    "They were bandits; but they are part of a larger group. Rather, to be honest, they're slavers. They will be exploiting a large group of fades to do a mix of physical labour and being killed to harvest clothing and other items. Some will be used for other things, too," Ian replied. "They will come in large numbers if I do not deal with them; if I deal with them, in the chaos, most of their slaves will escape, and they will, themselves, likely end up lost."
    "You mean kill them, by 'deal with them', don't you."
    "Yes. I am sorry, but the risks - especially to yourself - are too great for me to not see to this."
    Emerald chuckled. "Don't worry, I'll be fine alone. I might not be able to get outside, but I'll be okay in here."
    "Very well. I shall go armour myself; and advise you on some things before I leave."
    "Okay."

    Ian returned to his armoury, and pulled opened a wardrobe. Within, positioned neatly on an armour stand, stood his lightest suit of armour - a set of platemail made of a very strong, very rigid, yet very light metal. Within it, the fade weapons would be unable to touch him. Beside it stood the padding needed to make the armour comfortable, and a small selection of helmets.
    Ian armoured himself - with significant difficulty, despite years of experience - and chose a helmet that fully covered his head, with wide eye-holes filled by a strong form of glass. He returned his katana to his back, and strapped a dagger and short sword around his waist, just in case.
    He returned to the entrance, where Emerald was waiting on a chair, staring at the passage he emerged from. "You tromp in that like an elephant," she said, after walking over. "But it's amazing," she added, staring.
    "Thank you, I suppose," said Ian. "Now my advice to you: there is a small chance that one of the two I slew will return within my home. Stay awake the entire time I am gone, and keep your ears peeled; if one returns here, likely they will not be cautious as to creating noise (nor would they be able to hear it). Keep your blade nearby."
    Emerald looked slightly worried, but said, "Speaking of them, what will you do about the bodies?"
    "Nothing," replied Ian. "When a fade is slain, they dissolve over the two to three days before they return. Their clothing, and other inanimate objects remain - though strangely, often any hair cut or nails clipped dissolve as well. Those like myself do leave corpses that do not decay, and as such are often buried. Some fades insist on burning those that die, but I do not have the time or the inclination."
    "Oh, cool I guess," said Emerald.
    "I shall see you in five days or so. Stay safe. I am sorry I could not finish the voice amplifier already, but I should easily be able to do so upon my return."
    Emerald nodded, and said, "See ya."
    "Goodbye," said Ian, turning. Emerald watched him leave, and close the door behind him, before heading upstairs to retrieve her blade.

    As Ian strode north, following in part the faint trail of the fades who had fled, he wondered whether Emerald would remain safe alone. She's sensible enough, he thought. She will be fine. He sighed as he thought of the slaughter ahead; and of the scared fades he would have to direct towards the nearest city.
    He assumed there would be too many for him to take in, and even if he stayed around for long enough to ensure they all escaped, some would be caught as the bandits returned. In fact, he was counting on it - the disorder resulting from the escapes and deaths he would bring about would cripple the bandits for months; and disorient them more than enough for him to avoid discovery.
    Back inside the house, Emerald watched Ian from upstairs as he walked off into the distance. I guess I'll read some of the books, she thought. She had found out that she was able to - with effort - move a book from the shelf to the table, though it was hard to move the larger, bound books.
    Emerald felt slightly vulnerable, but she knew how to use her blade and could probably surprise a bandit if they reappeared inside Ian's home (which was unlikely, as Ian had mentioned that a slain fade would return somewhere in a five kilometre range). She wandered down stairs, wanting to have a look at the stuff Ian had looted.