Volume IX of Annals of Dystopia
|History||40-625 Lott||Unknown Sha’an, 935 A.T.||813|
|Departure, v. VIII||N/A|
Book nine in a series on the rise of the current Sha’an autocrat.
As the light crept upon Alekodst, I gathered my robes, my mask, and what small amount of food I could take with me and scampered down the tower, leaping down stairwells, perching as still as possible at any sign of movement. I once heard the loud thudding flap of the largest Flyer I had yet seen as it passed by an open window, but from what I could see through the broken glass, it was not looking into the tower- only mindlessly patrolling around it. Did they know I was here? It would not stop me from executing my plan, but I would have to be more careful if they knew there were still surviving Sha’an. The first floor of the tower was largely open to outside access, so I stopped my descent on the second floor, able to look out at the space in town between buildings. The tower I needed to reach – where our floating continent was tethered – was two towers away. I cursed myself silently for not taking proper mental stock; I could not remember which tower was connected to the one I needed to reach via a supply cable. It was obvious and apparent to travel across a supply cable, but so was traveling up the tether to the continent. Once I was that close, there was no option but to be in the open.
I drew my belongings close to avoid being caught on a stray piece of glass or metal and jumped from the second floor out of the tower, softening my landing with a roll. I sprinted not to the closest building, but one a little further I thought held the supply line. I ran not into the first floor, but made my way up the exterior wall as quickly as possible. There were no second floor windows that had been busted out and breaking glass would be audible for too large of a distance. Mentally cursing myself again, I proceeded up the exterior of the tower further. Sham’ayn might have blessed me yet as a window had been left in tact, but the window itself was open. I crawled in and shut the window behind me, looking around for any signs of hostile movement. I was safe — for now. I cautiously yet quickly made my way up this second tower; the higher I climbed and leapt the more I felt exposed by broken windows or missing sections of exterior wall altogether. At the top my cloak and other cloth wrappings shook in the wind more vigorously than on my previous perch of near a month. This tower was higher, yet still shorter than the one containing the tethered continent. Quickly, I scampered across the supply cable, careful not to slow down to look around for any Reykata. I was growing tired but could not afford to stop and eat, so I shoved a few bites of food in my mouth and slowly let saliva and small jaw motions break the food down as I continued up the last tower.
By the time the mush of food had completely left my mouth I was near the spire. The wind whipped at my cloak again, and my mask jostled loose. The mask fell down into the tower and I felt my identity vanish with it. I paused to prepare to jump after it, and the wind with another gust pushed it through a window. It was gone. I resolved to make another one if I made it out of The Blade alive, but I first had to make it out alive, and not through the portal carried by some Reykata. With a new sense of vigor I pulled myself up the tether up to the continent. This time I dared to look around, since I was still alive and it was much easier to climb a tether than it was to run across a supply cable a few hundred meters in the air. No Reykata had seen me yet, so I maintained hope that I could launch a small craft still unseen. The craft I found resembled compacted trash more than anything else — Sha’an had never been proficient designers — but perhaps in this case floating in what appeared to be a pile of trash through space would be another blessing. I had enough food to last perhaps two weeks before malnourishment began.
In three weeks time I would land on what I know now as [LOCATION REDACTED FOR AUTHOR’S SAFETY] within Parallelium. My craft had landed in a body of water, sparing me from death upon impact, but I was badly dehydrated and malnourished from my journey, along with badly burned from the heat of atmospheric entry. It took the better part of 932 to recover and now I present the story of yet another fall of the Sha’an to you, readers.