CHAPTER 23
"Sam? Hey, you still sleeping on me? Wake up!"
Storyteller opened his eyes to something unimaginable. He was no longer in the desert but in a place far removed, laying in the grass on a hill with the breeze flowing over him. Glancing to one side, he could see a field, a great garden unlike anything he'd ever seen, stretching out infinitely in all directions, beyond the horizon and beyond his senses. Every inch of that field was covered in flowers in the full bloom of Spring, emerald and ruby, ivory and jet, each one a color and cut as glorious as any precious stone he'd ever gleaned in his life. They danced in the breeze, shedding their petals and casting them to the sky to float on the winds, covering the sun in a living rainbow, encircling him in color. Even before the disaster, places like this could never exist - yet this garden felt not just real but familiar, as though he'd caught a glimpse of it in a time and place far removed.
At length, Storyteller noticed another figure sitting next to him on the hill. He was a stout man, much taller than Storyteller - the kind of person who would claim to be strongly-built, if only out of vanity. He was dressed in a casual, pre-disaster style, taking sips of something from an aluminum can.
Storyteller squinted at the man. "...Will? Is it you?"
"Of course it is. You were expecting someone else?" Will patted a cooler nestled amid the flowers next to him. "Oh, right, this. I ran back to the car to get this. Sorry I didn't ask you, but you seemed so relaxed, I didn't want to disturb you."
Storyteller was lost in his own disbelief, unable to move or even think with any clarity. Here was a ghost of a man dead for well over a decade, exactly as he had remembered him - looming large over him, a strong presence and a real one. He had stepped out of his own reality and into a memory, but one of exceptional clarity and sharpness. It was impossible - or perhaps he had just convinced himself of that?
Storyteller pulled himself to a sitting position. "But that's not right. You can't be here, you..."
"I what?" Will reached into the cooler and handed something to Storyteller. "Want a beer? Don't tell mom, this'll be our little secret, okay?"
"Thanks." Storyteller accepted the can, cradling it in both hands. "Uh...I found your time capsule."
"The preservation chamber, you mean? It survived? Awesome! You never know what's gonna happen with these homemade things." Will finished his beer and tossed the can aside. "Wait, that's a shitty thing to do. I'll get that." He snatched the empty can and crammed it into the cooler. "You got to keep the planet clean, right?"
"Of course," said Storyteller, flicking the drops of condensation from the can. "You saved the story I wrote."
"Of course I did. The point was to save things that should last, right?"
"Thanks, but I'm not sure that anything I wrote back then was worth saving forever."
"You always were too hard on yourself. I don't know much, but I know what's good. And you're getting better all the time. But there's one thing I gotta know, and you can be honest..." Will leaned in closer. "...Why do you have to lie to everyone?"
"What do you mean?" said Storyteller. "I've never lied to a soul."
"Come on, Sam, it's me," said Will. "We both know you didn't see half that shit."
"But I did," said Storyteller. "And what I didn't see I heard from you. We were together until the last minute."
"Have it your way, buddy. Not like it's going to matter in a few minutes." Suddenly, Will stood up, staring off into the distance. "Hear that? It's coming."
"What's coming?" Storyteller leaped to his feet, frantic, screaming in panic. "Will? What's coming?"
"The end." Will smiled at Storyteller. "C'mon, buddy, you don't want to miss it again, do you?"
Will spun his head back to the horizon, Storyteller tracing his gaze. There was nothing to see but there was a sudden rush, a blast of hot wind that raked the flowers and sent the petals spiraling in mad patterns through the air. Then there came a noise, something otherworldly hum at an eardrum-rending pitch - something coming not from the horizon but from within Storyteller's own head, a terrible note sung by his own bones. His body trembled down to his core, down to the very molecules in his organs, vibrating in time with some unseen force. There came a light, a beam of brilliant energy erupting from a point far on the horizon accompanied by a hellish wave of force. The flowers and petals burst into flames, flooding the sky with strangling smoke and tinging the very air a grim scarlet. The light beam grew wider by the second, expanding and expanding until Storyteller could see nothing else. The entire world melted away. All was ash and then, all was nothing.
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~Date Unknown~
"His pulse is getting stronger."
"Is he reacting at all?"
There were voices somewhere in the darkness the engulfed Storyteller, voices coming from somewhere far above him, but growing ever closes. The searing light was gone, replaced by a realm of shadows flitting around at the edges of his perception. Moment by moment, the image grew clearer - first the shadows transformed into indistinct shapes, then sharper ones with strange, ill-defined colors, then blurry images that he could just recognize. The voices grew sharper as well - voices from the people standing over him, familiar ones, the names attached to them floating just beyond his reach.
"It looks like he's coming around."
"Get more of the solution. He'll need it."
The first thing Storyteller could make out clearly was a massive object towering over him - a statue of a man, his arm outstretched to the heavens. On the arm was a black smudge that slowly came into focus - a crow perched on the arm, staring down at him with bestial curiosity.
"So I didn't make all of it up, did I?" said Storyteller. "Some of it was real. It had to be."
More people leaned over him. "Why's he talking like that?"
"Probably still delirious. Give him time, it'll pass."
"Here's the solution, Lifebringer."
Storyteller stared groggily up at the man leaning over him. "I remember you. We went to Nexus together, didn't we? How long ago was that?"
"You know, you must be the luckiest man alive." Lifebringer propped up Storyteller's head and poured a sweet liquid down his throat. "Think you can sit up?"
Willing his muscles back to functionality, Storyteller pulled himself into a sitting position and surveyed his new environment. His senses were still distorted, his thoughts clogged by haze, but he had regained enough of himself to recognize the sorry state of the place. He was in a clearing in an encampment - a particularly sorry-looking one, more like a war zone than a village. Storyteller was just one of many lying in the clearing, most of them in dire shape. It was clear that none of them had eaten in some time, and some bore injuries that had gone untreated for tragically long periods. Lifebringer's attendants sprinted through the ranks of the dying, doing their best to treat their maladies, but many of these people were clearly beyond the help that they could offer.
Lifebringer shooed away a crow which had landed next to them. "Too many blackbirds in this place." He handed Storyteller a gourd filled with a cloudy liquid. "Keep drinking this. It will help."
Storyteller swallowed the contents of the gourd, dropped it, then buried his face in his hands. "I feel like death is right behind me."
"You weren't far off," said Lifebringer. "How long were you in that desert?"
"Merely three days...or was it five?" Storyteller squinted against the hazy sunlight. "It might well have been a year. I really don't remember."
Lifebringer took Storyteller's wrist, searching for a pulse. "Well, you can thank the locals for saving your life. There's a dust storm coming soon, so some of the men went out into the desert to make sure that the children were safe. They found you and dragged you back here. If they hadn't, you'd be lost forever."
"Another group of friendly souls to whom I owe my life." Storyteller groaned as a fresh wave of pain struck him. "Where are we, anyway? What happened here?"
"It has no name, but people call it Settlement 12. And Conqueror is what happened. We're right at the far edge of his territory. This is what life looks like on the edge of hell." Lifebringer turned loose Storyteller's wrist and shook his head. "You take more risks, you know that? First, you walk down a raider-heavy trade route by yourself. Now I find you wandering in the desert at Conqueror's doorstep. What were you even doing out here, anyway?"
"I had an appointment," said Storyteller. "A mandatory one."
"Strange to say it, but I was half-expecting to see you again," said Lifebringer. "We ran into this woman, a trail scout, who was looking for someone who sounded a lot like you."
"Pathfinder?" said Storyteller. "So she spared a thought for me. It seems I do have admirers."
"But I am still surprised to see you this far south. You had an appointment? An appointment with whom? The only thing in that direction..." Lifebringer abruptly froze, staring in stunned awe at Storyteller. "...It's not possible. You were in Pinnacle?"
The invocation of Conqueror's mythical desert city sent a wave of murmurs through the encampment. The attendants turned to stare at Storyteller, joined by many of the patients who were drawn back to the world of the living by the prospect of a new legend. There were dozens of eyes on Storyteller, all of them filled with barely restrained reverence - most of all Lifebringer, who swiftly shed his bitter disposition for something far more respectful.
Lifebringer snapped himself clear of his state of awe. "You must still be delirious. Conqueror never lets civilians out, everyone knows that. If you were in Pinnacle, then how are you here?"
"I made my own exit," said Storyteller.
"I think you're telling tales again, or maybe feeding us some heat-induced hallucination," said Lifebringer. "I don't suppose you can prove this?"
"It may not prove it to your satisfaction," said Storyteller, "but I liberated a few articles before I left the city."
Lifebringer's mouth fell open, his eyes growing wide as the truth of the situation dawned on him. "You...You stole from Pinnacle? From Conqueror?" He made a feeble attempt to compose himself, allowing his awe to shine freely. "Do you realize what you've accomplished? Everything I've heard about Conqueror's collections, his libraries, his workshops...it's beyond comprehension. With his resources, I could save a thousand lives...a million!"
"Nothing I liberated would be of much use to you, I think, and I doubt that one could save a life. But I'd be more than pleased to show you what I found." Storyteller drew himself to his feet, leaning heavily on the statue. "Where's my satchel?"
One of the attendants jogged over, setting the bag at Storyteller's feet. "Here. We didn't touch anything, I promise."
"Thanks." Storyteller knelt down next to the bag and opened it, carefully sifting through the contents. "I should check. One of the objects I took is a bit fragile." He first removed the computer component, examining it in the light. "It looks intact to my eye, at least."
Lifebringer crouched down next to Storyteller, peering at the object in Storyteller's hand. "Is this what I think it is?"
"The ruins beneath Pinnacle hold countless old world machines," said Storyteller. "Computers included."
"So Conqueror has even this, huh?" said Lifebringer.
"He has it, but he does not use it." Storyteller tucked the component back into his satchel. "Conqueror is a very smart man, but with a sore lack of imagination. Once I've recovered, I will be taking this to someone with a touch more ingenuity. We'll see what secrets she can unearth."
"Did you take anything else?" said Lifebringer, not bothering to hide his eagerness.
"Yes, but it's a personal thing." Storyteller looked away. "It wouldn't interest you."
"Anything that comes from Conqueror's vaults is of interest to me," said Lifebringer. "It would be of interest to anyone who's ever lived within his reach."
Storyteller reached into his pocket, producing a wad of crumpled papers. "It was a remarkable coincidence, actually. Pinnacle was built atop my hometown, and Conqueror had dug up a time capsule that was interred by my own brother. Miraculously, this survived the disaster."
"What is it?" said Lifebringer.
"A story I composed, right before the disaster," said Storyteller, gingerly unfolding each balled-up sheet. "Remarkable, is it not? He saved it for future generations."
Lifebringer scrutinized the papers for a moment, jaw locked in place, teeth grinding, cold eyes fixed on Storyteller's hands. Without warning, he snatched the papers from Storyteller's hands and ripped them in half and then in half again and again and again. He was in a frenzy, numb to Storyteller's horror, wordlessly tearing until only ragged shreds remained.
"What are you doing?" cried Storyteller.
"I'm doing you a favor," said Lifebringer, staring down Storyteller, no longer shrouding his disdain. "When you turned up in my camp again, I'd hoped that you'd had some time to mature. I'd hoped that seeing the violence and tyranny and murderous greed out here would wake you up to the real world. But you keep clinging to the way things were!" Lifebringer dropped the shreds of paper, sending them dancing through the air on imperceptible wind currents. Storyteller moved quickly to rescue them, snatching them out of the air and then falling to his knees to grab the ones that had hit the ground. "Look at yourself! You're debasing yourself for a thing of no value!"
"No value?" said Storyteller as he crammed the shreds into his satchel. "This was all I had to connect me to my past."
"And that was worth risking your life?" said Lifebringer. "Do you have any idea what Conqueror would have done if he'd found that on you?"
"It was worth the risk," said Storyteller. "When you have passion for a cause, there is no risk too great. I'd think you might understand that."
"Don't compare yourself to me!" said Lifebringer. "I have a cause, and it's a just one. You don't have anything but dreams and memories. My life has purpose and yours is a waste. We save lives, Storyteller, we ease pain. What do you even do for anyone? Tell them stories? They don't need stories. They need to survive!"
"They need a reason to survive." Storyteller stood up, bracing himself against the base of the statue as a wave of weakness struck him. "Yes, you do an excellent job of fixing these people up when a raider gang or local tyrant comes through, or when there's a bad crop or tainted water. But to what end? So they can bide their time for the next drought, for the next pack of murderers? They don't just want to survive, Lifebringer. They want to know that there's something more. They want to know that there's a world where they won't have to listen to their children crying out in fear every night. They need that hope."
"Hope?" The word was tinged in acid as it snaked between Lifebringer's teeth. "A comforting lie. You give people hope? How, by chaining them to the past? The past is past. We need a future."
"A vision of the future. I thought I'd left that talk behind when I escaped from Conqueror's chambers."
"Don't you DARE compare me to that monster!" Lifebringer seized Storyteller by the front of his garment. "Or is this an attack to conceal your own collusion? No one escapes from Pinnacle. Did Conqueror do a favor for one of his kindred spirits?"
"Turn me loose." Storyteller brushed aside Lifebringer's hands, sliding down the statue to the ground as his legs gave way from the exertion. "So you have no need for the past. Then why do you wear that?" He pointed to the Rod of Asclepius pin on Lifebringer's collar. "I believe you once told me that there was a medical tradition in your family. Is that the pin's origin? Did it come from one of your parents, or a grandparent?"
"And now you bring my family into this! All your platitudes about beauty and the human spirit are just to make you look bigger, aren't they?" Lifebringer glanced down at Storyteller's satchel, resting just within his reach. "You need a stronger lesson. It's the only way you'll ever understand."
"What are you doing?" Storyteller's anger faded, replaced by a creeping dread.
"What needs to be done." Lifebringer pushed his hand into the satchel, quickly returning with the notebook. Storyteller clawed at Lifebringer, fighting as a wounded animal, but in his weakened state he was no match for the healer.
"Stop it! Return that at once!" Lacking the strength to stand up, Storyteller crawled after Lifebringer as he ran to the watchfire at the heart of the camp. "Stop!"
"I'm going to do you another favor, Storyteller." Lifebringer reached into his pocket, producing a metal cigarette lighter. "I'll set you free at last. I'm sorry it had to come to this, but healing often hurts."
"No!" Storyteller tried to stand up and fell flat on his face again.
Lifebringer flicked the lighter, summoning a small flame just visible in the daylight. "This is for your own good."
"You can't!" screamed Storyteller. "Don't kill him!"
"What?" Lifebringer stared down at Storyteller, stunned by the oddity of the remark. A look of awareness crossed his face as he surveyed his surroundings. He could catch the eyes of no supporters - those who weren't averting their eyes were staring him down with contempt. His eyes drifted from the lighter to the notebook and back as he reckoned the nature of his threat. Snapping the lighter shut, he tossed the notebook into the dirt before Storyteller. "Fine. Have it your way."
Storyteller fell on the notebook, cradling it to his chest. "Thank you."
"Enough of this." Lifebringer snapped his fingers. "All right everyone, get ready to move out." He'd done this many times, but that day there was no movement, only shocked and angry glares. "What did I say?" He swung back to Storyteller. "You see? You've turned my retinue against me."
"You wounded yourself, doctor," said Storyteller. "My destination is Westhigh. Tell me how I can reach that location from here, and you'll be rid of me."
"You're in no shape to travel alone," said Lifebringer. "But even if you were, you'd never get there using the trade routes. Conqueror's men control every settlement around here. By now, he's dispatched messengers to all of them. If one of the messengers reaches a settlement before you, then you'll be lucky if they just kill you where you stand."
"Then what do you propose?" said Storyteller.
"There's another route, across the river to the north," said Lifebringer. "It's off our regular path, but the storm is going to divert us anyway. We can take you back to the main trade route. After that, you're on your own."
"So now you choose to help me?" said Storyteller. "An act of contrition, or just trying to win back the faith of your followers?"
"A stirring show of bad faith," said Lifebringer. "No man deserves to fall into that monster's hands, especially not a soft-headed fool like you. Now, will you follow my instructions?"
"Of course," said Storyteller. "And I forgive you for what you've done today."
"I haven't done anything that needs forgiveness."
"I'm sorry. I should have said that even after today, I still see the goodness in you. In other circumstances, I would have called you friend. Perhaps I will one day, no matter what your behavior."
"Friendship is a nice fiction," said Lifebringer. "Allies and enemies, that's all there really is."
"Allies only as long as they are useful, then?" said Storyteller.
Lifebringer turned his shoulder to Storyteller. "Don't get left behind."