THE SEEKER Part Four of Standard Disclaimers. Thanks to ========================================================================= The youth headed towards Kathaksunga This was a mountain of ill repute. It was prone to storms and avalanches and had killed many an unwary climber. People regarded it as haunted and few went near it now. But the weather was fine for the Seeker nor was he in any danger of avalanches, since he kept below the treeline. The City would not be too high up. The abbot had supplied him with sturdy clothing and equipment, including a good solar powered palmtop and the promised scans of the books he desired. The Youth would set up camp early so he had plenty of time to pore over the texts. ----------------------- A month later he had a visitor. She was dressed all in leather the colour of dried blood. Her hair was trimmed neatly in a pageboy style; it was as golden blonde as his was. A blue mask concealed her face. He knew who she was. He was slightly awed, or would have been in his other, mundane life. This was a Devil Star. Come with me. She ordered in a manner that reminded him almost (but not quite) painfully of his Mother. He followed. The Devil star had holed up in a cave in the boulders. She sat down upon her bedroll and began to take off her jacket while looking at the Seeker expectantly. She said nothing more but the Seeker knew what she meant. The youth spent some time in the cave with her When he left, he was no longer a boy but a man. ----------------------------- The Seeker spent many years in the wilderness searching for the City. He grew very weary. `North of Kathaksunga` the Abbot had said; He could have meant the holy mountain, or the range it was in, which was a branch of the mountain chain that spanned the continent. The range was one of the most desolate and dangerous on Spectra, second only to the high Polar Regions and deep deserts. The youth had to search what he estimated as several thousand square miles of such territory. Nor was he sure `just` what he was looking for. The youth had never seen a city, nor any town bigger than the one his Mother governed; a few tens of thousands of people. Before he left the monastery he had read a bit about cities on other planets. He could not imagine any place like that existing upon Spectra; it was so sparsely populated. As for being in the wilderness? But he had to take his now absent Masters word as true. (And how did his loss hurt him!) He had to succeed or die trying; that or forever become an outcast for his failure. ------------------------- The next two years he went up the forested valleys, methodically working though each and every one. He had a map programme on his solar powered computer. He would walk up and down the side valleys of every river. Just `how` big was the City of Light supposed to be? The youth did not go hungry. He knew how to find edible plants and fish in the rivers. Knowing he was a holy man, the forest animals would bring him food, nuts and berries for the most part, also meat. He feared none of them, and several times shared caves with bears, hyenas and the spotted forest lions. They became his friends, for though a loner now he felt the true pangs of isolation. His clothing and boots wore out. This did not bother him; He was immune to all but the worst of weather and his feet had become hard and horny. He carried a small waterproof pouch of vital items; his solar powered palmtop and a few books on discs, tinder and flint, and a few tools. He did not need much; indeed much of his meditating was done naked. He kept his clothing hidden in a cave. During winter when it was too cold to travel much he holed up like a bear. He had a store of fuel and food, not that he needed much. He took the opportunity to get a long rest and plan his campaign for the following year. He also varied his time in sewing his clothes and self pleasure; fantasising about a certain blue mask which had never been removed. One day in late summer he was exploring along the course of a glacier. The youth intended crossing the river of ice to get to the next range over. He had seen several lights in the sky. Living on a tectonically active planet situated in a radioactive nebula he was well used to lights in the sky, and knew the many reasons behind them, but he was also well aware that what he was seeking was a source of great energy in itself. He had resolved to follow the lights, having no other clue. He poked at the ice with his staff. It was melting in the sun, water trickling down musically. He decided to play safe and go down glacier, crossing it at its terminus. Two hours later he reached the jumbled rocks and ice of the glacial melt. He began to pick his way over the mess when his eye caught something embedded in ice. He investigated, pulling away a shard of ice. Cloth. It had been so long since he had seen any human artefacts other than what he carried himself. This was interesting, from the shape of the still shrouded item he knew he had found the body of someone who had fallen in a crevasse, years, possibly centuries ago. He did not want to touch a corpse. This was the work of outcasts. But he dearly wanted to see if there was anything usable. He stood up in decision. Was he not an outcast himself? But how would he get the body out? He sat back to think. If he waited for the sun to thaw the ice it would be many days if not weeks. Autumn was coming; soon the snow would refreeze. Was this a lesson in patience? Or merely a lesson in ingenuity? The youth decided not to be patient; he lit several small fires around the body, softening the ice. Then he scraped and dug with a pointed stick until his treasure was free. This task occupied him for the better part of a week. By the end he had a relatively thawed corpse. He examined it; it was of a woman just at the end of her prime. Well built with curly brunette hair. Her clothing was rather ragged but still of use; by some miracle her boots still in good condition were fine, and the youth took it as a hopeful sign that they fitted him. She also bore a rucksack and pouches with useful items in. An axe, cigarette lighters and spare fuel, a windup torch and also some data discs. There was no computer with the discs. Presumably it had been in another bag, now lost. (With more clothes? and makeup? and, he pulled at his dirt felted hair, a hairbrush?) The discs were designed to last millennia, nor had they changed in millennia. He loaded them into his palmtop and they ran quite well, with only a few incompatibility glitches that were overcome as soon as the computer read the discs. They were religious books, some familiar and others new, also a diary of her travels and what she had seen. It was dated from nearly a hundred years before. His intuition was completely right, she had been a seeker after the City of Light. And she had failed to find it. This sobered the youth; just how many people the Spirit had called? ...And how had many died? He buried her in a cairn on the cliffs beside the glacier, with many prayers for the repose of a soul who had never found what she was seeking. ------------------------- That winter he concentrated on the new books more, rather than his random treks. He scanned the text, glad of his new knowledge of High Spectran writing, for all of them were pre-Fall, many thousands of years ago. The Seeker spent many days laid back on his couch of grass and moss, reading. He was content to read; though once he had got though all the discs then he began to try to interpret them. He had a sudden thought. He had been supplied with new boots and clothing. This meant he was to leave the safety of the forest and go up into the higher mountains. (He also interpreted the fact that they were womens clothes as an ok to his habits.) Next spring he changed his range. The Seeker journeyed deeper into the mountains leaving the shelter of the woods behind. He saw many ruins, which excited his curiosity, but little academic interest. His society had long ago forgotten many secrets of the past and the interest in digging for them. But he got no closer to his goal. -------------------------------- It must have been the fourth or fifth year of his quest; he did not care He now wore furs taken from deer his animal friends had caught. The aspirant had spent many tiresome days in preparing them and sewing them. Something new to him, but his books included a good survival skills manual. He had made fur lined boots and mittens as well. The mountains were much colder than the forests. Fuel was short, and he often went without hot food or even a fire. Most of the year it was snowy. He had to travel even in this; making a snowhole to sleep in every night. He still could find no signs of the city. The womans texts said it was at the head of a valley, that it was on a major pass and old trade route and to look out for signs of ancient roads. He had seen none. He was well aware that some spent their entire lives on the quest, -and even then they did not succeed. He had come so far; it would be pointless to give up now. Perhaps that was what had happened to the woman in the glacier. She had lost faith and been killed for her treachery. The seeker grew more and more weary. --------------------------------------------- The next day he was cross and out of temper. The seeker walked along the course of a river, bits of ice floating between the rocks. He kicked at an inoffending bit of wood irritably. Its all a sham and an illusion. I have been deceived by a devil! Suddenly he found himself in the icy river. He bellowed in sheer shock at the dreadful cold. The seeker struggled out of the water, fu

I've parts 2, 3 and now 4. These are excellent, Tengu! The way you immerse the reader into a detailed culture and mythos makes this Spectra so very real, and Zoltar's journey is fascinating, all the more so because I'm familiar with BOTP and have some idea where it's leading... Your style reminds me of Ursula K. Leguin, one of my favourite authors.