To say Moskin Stormburg was devout would be a critical – nay, dangerous – understatement. Moskin Stormburg was unhinged. He believed so relentlessly in God and the blessed Lost Disciples, it wasn’t so much a matter of faith as obsession. When his neighbour made a disparaging remark about the monthly Daja ritual interfering with the kangoss playoffs, Moskin killed their family pet.

This, ultimately, was what led him to Fade.

He killed the morchi-bird[1] in a manner laid out in an ancient Pinian text long since abandoned by the modern church, cleanly and painlessly severing its spine, setting aside the waste organs as tribute to the Brotherhood, feeding the musk bladder to the house-spirits[2], the eyes and brains and throllipers to the Gyrlei[3] belonging to his neighbour on the other side, and tanning its skin and fashioning hide and feathers into a mulluck-wrap for one of the local homeless. This was a sacrifice of practicality, benefitting many, and it was the sort of thing the old books were full of. These days, of course, with the Disciples gone and the faithful tested in their beliefs by the seeing-is-believing crowd, the church had cut down on the roaring and the bloodletting, and all the real stuff.

[1] Knee-high, flightless, with powerful legs and jaws. Quite fierce, but with a bark considerably worse than its bite – particularly the more ornamental urban model.

[2] Small colonies of semi-sentient genetically-enhanced insects generally shared between rows of three or four interconnected Áea-folk dwellings, house-spirits tended to waste, helped find lost items, and kept the pest population down.

[3] Three-legged reptilian creatures said to have fallen from sentience back into an animal state, considered sacred charges by the Áea-folk. As the Gróbi were believed to have descended from the holy seed of the First Disciple and the Áea-folk from the Second, so were the Gyrlei believed to have sprung from the Third.

But Moskin had felt it, when he’d killed that yipping bird. He’d felt vindication, recompense for his neighbour’s disrespect, he’d felt the eyes of God open and he’d felt the ground shake as the Disciples took a titanic step nearer to him. And he’d had a vision, the next time he had slept. This wasn’t particularly unusual – biting his tongue at breakfast was sometimes enough to give Moskin a vision – but this time it had been so clear.

The Disciples were Lost, as all knew, behind the Veil that concealed Earth, of the distant shining realms of God. But with the right sacrifice, the Veil could be pierced. And as with all the great old magics, the required sacrifice was a heavy one. The morchi-bird, showing him the way, had just been the beginning.

Moskin had sold most of his belongings, everything but his birth blades and the clothes on his back, purchased a berth on the Koshanna Doof and a plot in Fade. Frankly, the people of Orbonyville were relieved to see him leave Barnalk Low. Moskin had a way of turning conversations into homilies, and a habit of staring fixedly at your forehead while he was talking, as if he was directly addressing the part of your brain that was telling you to run away. No, he wasn’t missed.

Fade was a curious place – a nation in its own right by the time Moskin arrived there, if a small one. Forty-odd miles long by ten at its widest point, it occupied the lowest stair of the Eden Road, that vast cascade of mountain-sized slabs curling down from Heaven and then … well, fading. Beneath the step on which Fade had grown over the years were three more of the massive formations, each more ephemeral than the last, even the topmost of which was too absent to support a living body, much less a thriving city-state.

Beneath that trio of ghostly stairs, there was … nothing. An empty gulf in which the great flatworlds of Earth, Hell and Cursèd had once floated. Far, far below the gulf was the terminus and the Eden Road continued down to Castle Void, descending back into solidity in a similar progression of misty stone. There was even a community on the first solid stair down there, known as Destarion’s Landing or, rather uncreatively, Rise.

Rise was overrun by Darking worshippers and other denizens of the Castle, however, so it was to Fade that most of the true faithful gathered, to huddle together on the dangling broken helix of the Eden Road and look out on the emptiness between Heaven and Void, the emptiness that had swallowed the Disciples of God almost thirteen Firstmade centuries before.

After a few months in Fade, he’d acclimated well. He was no longer the craziest person on his street by a clear mile. In fact, quite often he wasn’t even the craziest at all. There were significantly crazier people living in Fade. The city was inhabited predominantly by Gróbs and Áea-folk like himself, the latter often accompanied by yapping nests of Gyrlei. His neighbours even proudly sported a pair of pedigrees that could talk, in a limited fashion. There were also assorted Heaven-folk, and of course a couple of thousand Molren.

It was ideal.

About Hatboy

I’m not often driven to introspection or reflection, but the question does come up sometimes. The big question. So big, there’s just no containing it within the puny boundaries of a single set of punctuationary bookends. Who are these mysterious and unsung heroes of obscurity and shadow? What is their origin story? Do they have a prequel trilogy? What are their secret identities? What are their public identities, for that matter? What are their powers? Their abilities? Their haunted pasts and troubled futures? Their modus operandi? Where do they live anyway, and when? What do they do for a living? Do they really have these fantastical adventures, or is it a dazzlingly intellectual and overwrought metaphor? Or is it perhaps a smug and post-modern sort of metaphor? Is it a plain stupid metaphor, hedged around with thick wads of plausible deniability, a soap bubble of illusory plot dependent upon readers who don’t dare question it for fear of looking foolish? A flight of fancy, having dozed off in front of the television during an episode of something suitably spaceship-oriented? Do they have a quest, a handler, a mission statement, a department-level development objective in five stages? I am Hatboy. https://hatboy.blog/2013/12/17/metalude-who-are-creepy-and-hatboy/
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6 Responses to Fade

  1. dreameling says:

    So there’s like a gigantic stairway of rectangular continents extending through space that originates from one dimension, Heaven, and then fades into nothingness in the middle where a flat Earth used to be, and finally un-fades on the other side in a third — or maybe that’s a fourth — dimension, Hell? What sort of LSD cosmology is this?

    • stchucky says:

      Hee. Well, would it make it any better to tell you that there’s really only one dimension (universe) at work here? It’s called the Void (as in biblical and astronomical). The flat worlds of Heaven, Earth, Hell and Cursèd float there, except Earth is gone, leaving this gap.

      Beneath those is Castle Void. These worlds were sort-of referenced in https://stchucky.wordpress.com/2013/11/26/character-study-the-destarion (brilliant, the link system in comments does not work, I remember now), which is why I mention them. Otherwise, you’re on your own!

      • dreameling says:

        This is so weird. I noticed the Destarion reference, but I struggled to reconcile the world of this story with the world of that one, because when reading that story I automatically assumed a regural cosmology and thought that Heaven and the others were just normal planets or solar systems (hence my comment about space opera). Then I remembered you saying that Pinian is a multiverse project, so I figured that perhaps these are different universes… But there was still the Destarion connection. Enter my question about LSD.

        I hope this teaches you something about dangerous readerly baseline assumptions and expectations when lacking authorial context!

      • stchucky says:

        Haha! I learned nothing!

        Seriously though, I appreciate you engaging on this and at least trying to figure it out. Sorry about the inevitable confusion but with this narrow slice of the context I think you did well. Can’t expect a reader to get the setting when so much of it is left out.

  2. Pingback: Interlude: The Map | Hatboy's Hatstand

  3. Pingback: Fade (a minor rewrite) | Hatboy's Hatstand

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