Next morning, Miratur waited for him under “their tree”. The tree was still dancing in the wind, singing the song of the leaves, the same old romantic song every tree sang to every wind since the beginning of time. Wind always falls in love with a tree while pulling his fingers through the tree's dense hairs. Until the wind notices another tree and falls in love with it, and with any other tree, leaving them all eventually, to wait, longing for him, remembering all the beautiful moments they had together.

She saw him in the group of raiders. She ran to meet them.

Subito reached for Miratur’s hand and said, “Let’s go.”

She pulled herself up on the dog behind Subito’s back. They took the first steps on their journey as the silent dog's paws touched dusty road. Such a silent beginning to what is to be the greatest journey of their life.

Not far from “their tree”, a young girl emerged out of an old, almost rotten, clan house, hidden in the small grove north of the road. She stood in front of the Scar waving her hands causing them to come to an abrupt stop.

“Where do you think you are going?” It was the same woman which looked them yesterday using her magical stone, resting on top of her staff, held by ornamental wooden hand with long curved nails.

Subito inspected the young girl, she was almost a child, maybe sixteen years old. At first he thought she was a boy, because of her short brownish hair but when he looked closer, he found her to be attractive. She even resembled Miratur except for the clothes, which were like nothing he ever saw. She wore a long black dress which left her white hands and décolletage naked to shine in the weak morning light. Two openings on the sides of her dress exposed her muscular legs when she walked. Subito spoke to her, “I have only seen dresses like the one you now wear in old paintings. Ulan women would never wear them as pants are much more practical for hunting and war.” Confused, he eyed her, “Are you a traveler from the distant land?”

Lillium

“Mother!” Shouted Miratur. She rested her head on Subito’s back and didn't notice the girl until Subito spoke to her. She lighted down and embraced the girl. Subito pinched his hand to make sure he isn’t having a weird dream. It was obvious that the girl is much younger than Miratur. Fear and confusion took away his ability to speak for quite some time. Both women took little heed of his petrified presence, chitchatting with each other instead.

“Is this a joke?” He mumbled.

Miratur gave him a weird look and said, “No, she is my real mother.” The other woman laughed.

“Sorry, I expected you to be a little, older?” By the end of his sentence her laughter became witch like, high and screechy.

“I am much older. Look at these blue stones on my belt.” She pointed at her waist compressed by a broad iron belt, which covered the area from below her breasts to her hips. Several embedded blue and red gems were there to break the monotony of the dark iron. They were only thing attached to her belt except for the leather pouch which hung from her side on an iron ring. “These are the stones of youth. They create the illusion that I am much younger than I really am. Before you ask the red stones are stones of warmth. They make it possible for me to show my skin while others have to tuck themselves in to keep warm.”

He opened his mouth only to be interrupted.

“Before you ask, I found you two using this stone on my staff. It is called Crow’s Eye. It allows me to observe everything my little friend up in the sky can see.” She pointed upward to a crow that was flying high above them.

“You seem to be well versed in every one of my questions before I have a chance to ask them. I can only say nice to meet you if you will let me.”

She turned to Miratur, and said, “He is funny, I already like him.”

Miratur whispered in Subito’s ear, “My mother is strange, but you will come to like her. She left her clan and bought a clan house just for herself. She likes to travel the world...”

“I do like her.”

“Welcome to my house. I am your host Lillium of clan Alba,” she pushed them one by one into her wrecked clan house.

Despite its outside appearance, the inside of her clan house was no worse than a king’s clan house. Subito used to dwell in a palace as a member of the king’s guard and could compare them. High quality gray wool made from the fur of Ulan dogs covered the floor. While strange carvings of plants, animals and humans, and many animal pelts covered the walls. She took them to the table. Subito was compelled to turn his head right and left to look at the wonders hanging on the walls.

He said, “Those weapons, they are so strange and beautiful.”

“Most of them are found among the ruins of ancient cities. A lot of them I got for cheap, other artifacts cost me a fortune. But it’s what I like to collect.”

“You have visited the Land of Moving Hills? What does it look like?”

“It’s pretty much the same as here, except there is a lot more snow. Winter is almost gone and the snow worth mentioning has not fallen.”

“So most of these weapons are from ancient cities?”

“Yes from the cities before the fog.”

His eyes glittered. Those were the items from the lost world. He said, “Could it be that a long forgotten king or even a hero wielded some of these weapons? No matter how great a heroic act you perform, next generations will forget all about you. Dust of time covers even the brightest light. This is the doom of mankind to die and to die again, the second time in memories. There were once humans, the same as I am. They had as many dreams and desires as I have. And now I can’t even comprehend they could have existed. Only things we see, hear or feel exist, everything else beyond our reach does not.”

Lillium took one helmet down off the wall. It was standing on a shelf between a black flag with human ears preserved in resin sewn onto it on one side, and a leather shield made of human skin on the other. Human skin is softer than any animal skin and unrealistically white. “It took me a long time to figure out how this one worked, until I filled it with oil and ignited it.” She put the helmet on her head igniting a fuse on top. When she pulled a lever on the side of the helmet a jet of flame over five feet long blazed over the room. The warriors jumped from their seats out of fear, but were quick to sit back in their chairs and make jokes about their own skittishness.

Miratur said, “That's my mother. Most of the time she’s a nice person, but beware those moments when she is altogether crazy witch.”

This clan house was not illuminated like the others using the fat of a matasart. Lillium had a smaller version of a Fetun Stone attached to the ceiling. Subito came to conclusion that she is a most powerful wizard he ever met. “I didn't know anyone else could have Fetun Stones except priests of the Temple of Voice.”

“We learn new things each day. I don’t just have it, I made it.”

“I thought that during their rule the Uhgr tribe destroyed all Fetun Stones and all magical formulas. Except for the stone in Wolf Pass, the only place they couldn’t conquer. I heard that priests of the Voice recreated all stones on island using that one.”

“That is true for the most part. They destroyed almost the entire Ulan knowledge. The group of Ulans knowledgeable in the ways of magic gathered in secret to recreate the writings of Aenea of Tilbad. They created a book known as “The Book of Aenea Magic”. I should pass the knowledge from them to future generations just as someone has passed it from them to me.”

“Should anyone even use magic anymore? Many say the reason behind the fog was a terrible war between two warring wizard factions.”

“Magic does not harm people. People harm people. Others claim the reason behind the fog was that the gods fell asleep. Voice from the Crowd insisted that this world is evil and chaotic, and that the fog is its natural state. Who would know for certain? It was a long time ago. Time distorts everything, even the truth.”

“Yes, but so much power in the hands of one man…”

“We have to save the knowledge for future generations,” she said interrupting him yet again. “It has saved us many times. Aenea passed it to her son Aenead and he used it to unite refugees from the fog. They gathered on top of only mountain high enough to rise above the fog. We know it as the Land of Moving Hills. Thus, he made the first state after the fog. His sons divided it, creating tribes of Surs and Hozs. Those tribes later united into the Ulan nation - all because of magic knowledge.”

Subito was silent.

She continued, “Which brings us to the question: ‘Where do you go?’”

“To the Land of Moving Hills,” they answered. They had a feeling that she already knows everything about the trip and their plans.

“And remind me why?”

“We will fight against the Lorantides.”

“Do you even know what Lorantides are?”

They shook heads.

“I have heard they are squid shaped creatures, except they have human faces. Those creatures have a nasty habit of attaching themselves to the backs of any animal or human and wrapping their tentacles around the creature's limbs. This way they take control over their host's body. The mind of the poor host stays imprisoned in their own body for the rest of their life. Anyway, wisdom is not the knowledge of the facts, but a skill to use the knowledge you have. There are many dangers even before you get to your destination. Between Ulan and the Land of Moving Hills is a great storm which never ceases. My magic mentor always claimed he could sense magic at work near that storm. Maybe a powerful wizard lives in the storm and controls it. Even if there is no wizard, you will need a skilled Brig master to get you past the storm."

“You don’t expect us to go back, do you?”

“I expect nothing. I believe you could use magic and a clan house.”

“You will come with us?” Miratur said with a hope in her voice.

“Yes, but just to find new ingredients for my magic craft.” Miratur hugged her with relish.

“You can go into the sleeping chambers and take a rest. I will have to make rabbits in suind for all of you and that my friends, is a lot of work. Before that I will point my Brig toward the Bolki hunting grounds. If you want to get anywhere, now is the best time to start.”

She grabbed ahold of Schnew's shoulder, turning him around to face her and her outstretched hand. She pointed at an empty spot on her corset where there used to be one of her warming stones. He gave her an abashed smile and pushed the stone into her hand. Alma walked behind them with a wide grin on her face.

She whispered into Schnew’s ear, “You don’t have to pretend you are drunk. She can see right through you, same as I. She knows your kind: greedy for everything that shines, no matter if it be diamonds or mirrors.”

“Yes she knows how to see. Most people can look, but only a few can truly see. Crows also gather everything that shines, and she still loves them. I can become her crow, and she will give me all shiny things I want. You can steal one or two things before you get caught. But when you steal somebody’s heart you can have everything they own. It will be difficult, but the challenge makes it interesting.” When he turned he saw Alma wasn't even listening to him. She was enjoying Lillium’s angry face.

Familiar mountain peaks passed before Lillium’s eyes, small Zama under the big Tonku, the three headed Lik, naked realm of winds Talkvira… Deep gorges between them were barely noticeable. The Brig was flying high. The wind was playing with her hair tossing it in every possible direction. Cold hair touching her face felt pleasant.

When she turned around, she couldn't see the Gathering anymore, mountain peaks they had already left behind blocked her view.

It started for real! She wasn't certain about her feelings. They were somewhere between sadness, tension and enthusiasm, or all of them mixed. She was in the chamber on the top left side of the clan house. This chamber had a small fenced terrace on the side which was a lookout position for Brig masters. There was an identical chamber on the right side. A narrow bridge that crossed over the top of the clan house connected both chambers. In the middle of the bridge was a big iron ring connected to the clan house. Brig used it to hold the clan house in his claws while he was flying. The bottom part of the ring had a chair carved into it. Lillium crossed the bridge to take her seat there, all buckled up, while her black dress was fluttering in the wind like a flag. Black flags were sign of mourning, appropriate symbol of her sadness for leaving her home island. She was holding a Gurum stone in her hand waving right or left depending which way she wanted the mighty Brig to turn. She crossed the Gurum stone over the Brig’s stomach several times, the beast moaned with pleasure.

They entered the plains. In the mountains there were curves, new wonders emerging behind every top, while over the plains everything was the same, nothing but miles of grass moving in the wind.

Lillium said to the animal: “I left the stone hanging on the pole, pointing the way to Bolki territory. You will fly on your own.”

***

The Temple of the Voice appeared before him, three times higher than and five times as broad as any clan house. No less than a horde of Brigs would carry this heavy structure, on rare occasions priest decided to move it. The last time they came to this decision was for the funeral of the Good King. His people loved and honored him and the priests carried his body all over the isle in the Temple of the Voice. Melessar was a little boy at the time. He still remembered how the crowd cried when the priests were dispersing the ashes of the late king out over the Ashfield.

“We all find our end in the Ashfield. Only the Voice from the Crowd has defeated death. The others are too weak. Well, at least the Ashfield is not too far away from the Gathering,” he concluded.

Since then the Temple has been in the Wolf’s Pass, a narrow dale between two mountains. The building stood on a great rock with a flat top. A small stream flowed out of the base of it. The rock served as a shelter for a few clans that remained free when Uhgrs had conquered most of the island. They refused to surrender and positioned clan houses on top of the rock, defeating every host attempting to conquer the pass. A young prince was with them, the same one who will grow up to become the Voice from the Crowd. The temple, painted green and covered with quartz crystals which reflected the Fetun stone's lights was a sight to behold. Numerous pipes and holes distributed along the surface of the Temple served to justify its name. Even the weakest wind created haunting, whispering, sounds. These sounds always sounded to him like the voices of some unfortunate people trapped in the walls.

Soon, Melessar entered the big hall and sat down behind a great table with five other priests. He spread his writings across the table as he explained value of his findings. The other priests, who listened to him, were very old.

The oldest, skinny and with hair altogether turned into silver, was Sabator Retewi, the High Priest. He couldn't tell with certainty if his hunched back were consequence of the huge golden medallion around his neck or if it was just the effect of the passing years. Others who sat with him were his counselors.

The youngest of them was well over fifty years. Plump and nervous, she always pulled at her collar like it was choking her. Her name was Zorgu.

Kultiderm was even fatter. The legs of his chair were bending under his immense weight.

Melessar was afraid they would break at any moment and send him crashing to the floor.

The fourth was Hremo. He had big mustache, so large he entwined them on both sides of his belt. Old priest got the idea from the isolated tribe in the Land of Moving Hills. Fellow priests nicknamed him crazy Hremo because of his experiments he performed and the strangest questions he asked common people. There were rumors he is the one who started the fashion of dyeing clothes amongst the youth. He never dyed his clothes, but Melessar was almost certain there is grain of truth in those rumors as he produced dyes in his laboratory.

The fifth old man was a scribe. He had gray-reddish hair and sad eyes. The High Priest’s personal scribe is mute. His task was to write every thought and idea of his master. Priest who performed this function had to be mute by tradition to remind High Priest of the value of silence. There was a saying: “Silence is a mother of idea.”

Zorgu used a blackthorn cane to walk and Kultiderm had fragile bones, but the other two had no disabilities. By the law the High Priest was always member of one of the three dynasties. Hremo is hermaphrodite. Similar to Singularity, he is both female and male and neither at the same time. Religion considered him perfect.

When Melessar finished, they exchanged looks in an unpleasant silence.

Zorgu spoke first, “That’s it? The little girl told you black and white make the letter A?”

“It means there is a forgotten alphabet. We need to decipher the other letters.”

“You can’t expect us to finance that. We have more urging things to take care of, repairing the roof for instance. Yesterday, I walked the hallways when drop of water fell right on my neck. It was not pleasant! Imagine if it happens during a king’s visit.”

Kultiderm intervened pulling his collar, “What our good sister Zorgu is trying to say is that we don’t have enough money for it… at the moment. Maybe in a couple of years and with more evidence…”

“I have said exactly what I meant to say. Thank you brother Kult,” Zorgu stressed. Kultiderm was red and sweating.

High Priest Sabator inclined toward Subito. “It is a nice theory, but we need more to give money for such an extensive research. I am sorry. Let's have a prayer together.”

Their answer left Melessar speechless. He was sure he had something, and now he could do nothing about it.

Hremo smiled at desperation in his face and said, “People who visited the temple told us that you have a beautiful voice. Would you please say a prayer for us?”

“Yes, I will”, Melessar said in distraught manner.

“And don’t be sad. Winners are patient.”

Melessar stood up reading from the Book of Voice while others knelt in silent prayer.

“Knowledge of the warrior…I entered the hallways of my mind. The one leaving out was not something that would live only one life. It was the Voice from the Crowd. We are the one. I am just verbalizing the thoughts of many. I sound like tens of thousands. I am telling the truth. I resent lies. I resent hypocrisy. I will prevail. I am many. And I am the Singularity because my mind shifted from the nightmare of multitude. I am Mindshifter!

“I have never denied that gods and powers beyond our knowledge do exist. My only claim is that they are just bigger parts of the Singularity, than humans are. They are not something different than we are. There’s nothing different. A man can become a god if he knows how to - he needs to know how to create.

“Before he will be able to create he needs to know how to destroy. He needs to be a warrior, strong enough never to divide. Only then he will be able to join two into one. Those who can join two into one can move mountains with a single word.

“One must know himself. Within is the secret of victory and answers to all questions. One who knows himself can control himself. And he who controls himself can rule the world. Everything in this world is the same. Everything is Singularity. You will be able to control the outside world which is same as the world inside of you.

“All is one and one is all.

“What prevents you from controlling yourself is the pain. The first thing you should learn is to endure the pain. Endure your pain and the pain of others for it is the same pain.

“To endure the pain you need to overcome your weaknesses. If you seek knowledge of what weakness is, look at children and do everything opposite from what they do.

“Don’t believe others

“Believe in yourself.

“Don’t run away from fear and pain. They’re normal. Live with them. They will come anyway. If you learn how to live with them, they won't petrify you.

“Deception is the strongest weapon. The Singularity fragmented because of self-induced deception. Only the best warriors deserve an honorable death, the rest will not fight with honor.

“Don’t be a fool who will give them a chance to make you a fool. Pride is the enemy. Two bad warriors will always kill a good one which is alone. Except if he knows himself.

“Don’t run away from death you won’t escape it.

“With will in one hand and sword in other everything that has ever existed, can be destroyed, except the Singularity.”

“You have chosen very long prayer. I admire your ability to stay on the battle field, even after such a defeat. We shouldn't torture you anymore. Your voice is indeed beautiful.” Hremo shook his hand and pointed him toward the doors.

In the corridor, his head was buzzing. He noticed the white stone of voice in his hand. Abashed, he pressed the stone to his ear and listened to the whispery voice.

“Meet me in my room tonight.”

“Hremo… He put it in my hand when he shook it!” He realized while terror consumed him. “Hermaphrodites have female parts. What does he want from me? But if I refuse him I will never get a chance to continue my research. Hermaphrodites are considered indecisive, even about their own sex. That’s the reason they are not Singularity. I can’t be indecisive. I need to discover the old alphabet.” He shivered at that thought. “Those mustaches… It would be a lot easier if they weren’t there. No way! I will not allow him to use me! What if he tries something? I am stronger! I will see what he wants from me.”

After he had spent the whole day in the Temple library, Melessar went to Hremo's room. He hesitated for a few moments before he knocked on the small door which stood before him. No one answered. In the silence of the corridor, he could hear his own breathing. He knocked again, this time quicker and with more force. Then, he saw a light coming from under the door and heard small steps approaching.

Hremo opened and said, “Join me in prayer, brother.” He pulled him inside the room. The room was small and sparse, seven feet long and six feet wide. A bed was in one corner made of straw stuffed between two blankets. It was on top of the chest he used for clothes storage. The chest had a big drawer on the front side. In the other corner was a small table with three legs and a similar chair next to him. Hremo returned the candle he held to a small hole cut in the table. Next to the hole a quill, still lying over the few parchments dispersed across the table, held a fresh drop of ink. Parchments were filled with notes in tiny handwriting. Hremo stood before Melessar in white sleeping robes and slippers. His mustaches even longer than Melessar imagined. As he walked they were dragging over the floor after him.

“He doesn’t need to clean his room. Little walk around the room is enough to wipe all the dust,” Melessar came to conclusion, withholding the smile. His eyes fell on small points on Hremo’s chest and he realized that the old man had breasts. In all likelihood he compressed them with bandages during a day.

Hremo caught his look. Melessar felt compelled to turn his eyes to the floor. He almost jumped backwards when Hremo reached for his hand.

Noticing his violent shake, Hremo calmed him down in a soft voice, “Despite what you have heard about me, I do not eat young boys. Nor do I fuck them. I prefer girls. They are much softer and prettier.”

Melessar couldn’t hide a sigh of relief. “I didn’t mean…”

“There’s no need for polite excuses. I have grown accustomed to it over the years. Let us pray.”

He opened a secret drawer in the wall and pulled the book out, an ancient copy of the Book of Voice. It could have even been written in the time of the Voice from the Crowd, by the hand of one of his students. The old priest opened a drawer by pressing one of its corners. There were a few more books in it. As soon as he took the book out, Hremo gave it a gentle push and drawer locked in the original position. There was no visible clue on the wall that a secret opening existed in it. Both men fell to their knees as Hremo read from the Book in a monotonous voice.

Hremo closed the book and said, “You realize I didn't call you here to pray with me?”

“I am aware of that. But the true reason behind your invitation yet eludes me.”

“Let’s cut straight to the point. Council has refused to finance your project, but I believe there is a certain merit to your idea. Results could be better than even you could expect. It wouldn't be the first time for me to challenge their decision, but that would bring us nothing. I would only piss them off and they would make a few more obstacles on your way. No, we will wait for your work to give results and then rub their noses in it.”

“But I have no way to continue my work without the funding. I will have to wait until winter, as every clan will be at the Gathering then. I will be able to visit them only during winter as I cannot afford to journey to each while they are on the hunt.”

“You have no ways, but I have few more drawers. Do you know which material is used to build our roads?”

“It depends. Sometimes stone, sometimes boards, and other times packed earth.”

“Some people use many materials, others just one – money. You can build anything with money.” He pressed the wall in order for a new drawer to slide out. A full bag of money was soon resting in Melessar’s hands. “Use this money to visit the clan houses now. Don’t wait for winter. I am an old man and I don’t know if I will see next winter. If nothing else, the anticipation will kill me.”

“I don’t know what to say. Thanks?”

“Don’t thank me. I am not giving you anything. I am paying you to decipher the ancient alphabet. Use this money to build a road leading to your goal.”

“I will try my best.”

“This might help you along your road.” He handed him the parchment he took off of the table. “This is part of an old lullaby. I found it written within the margins of an old book. It says: Valleys are low and hills are high the same as the Z is reverse of A. What do you think?”

Melessar took some time considering it. Then he waved his hand and said, “If A is black then white... This song is revealing that Z is white followed by black.”

“The same conclusion crossed my mind. Now go and investigate, for now I must rest.”

“Thank you. You have helped me so much”, Melassar said as he walked toward the doors.

“I haven’t. Remember, I have paid you to work for me. I am accustomed to being laughed at. All this gratitude makes me uncomfortable. Go! I will start to think you like my breasts after all.” He pushed him out grinning.

Melessar stood in the corridor clutching his fists around the parchment and bag he held in his hands. For the first time in a long time he felt hope stirring again.