SouthernKing
crickety cricket
"Wake up, Cel!"
You re-enter reality after the strangest of dreams. You had been a human male, living in a city above the water. London, they had called it - funny, for was that not the name of the fabled city on the far side of the world? You remember riding in some strange machina, even flying through the air, and a number of other things that, come to think of it, make virtually no sense whatsoever.
The reality, of course, is that you do not in live in any city above the water, you cannot fly, you are not human, you are not even male, and you have never seen or heard of more than half of those strange things in your life.
"It's your big day, Cel." It is your younger pod-brother Sllik, who even after so many years has never truly gotten the message to just leave you alone. He prods you with his snout a couple times, as if to prove his point.
"What do you want?" you message back. To those unaccustomed to these sounds, they might sound like little more than odd pinging, or the icy calls from a strange machine. Those listeners could scarcely comprehend the length and breath of science and philosophy and history - and, yes, even culture - those sounds would have carried.
"It's time to begin your Wandering." Sllik calls, in a sing-song procession of tones. "And I have only half a day to annoy you, so here I am!"
You ignore Sllik, of course; he is correct, but you have far more pressing matters on your mind. Soon enough, you might as well thankfully forget him entirely. As you know, the Wandering is the coming of age for every adolescent cetacean, seeking, as you are, to become a rishi, a true vessel of this world's knowledge. If you return from this quest, not only will you be elevated to this superpod's panchayat, you will become hallowed in the annals of your superpod for eternity. For a whole year, you have prepared your mind and your fins and your telekinetics well.
After a quick meal, over which you hear little but Sllik's incessant chattering, you head off in the direction of the designated meeting place of the panchayat, the council of this superpod's other rishis. There are currently fourteen total, presiding over a total of some three hundred cetaceans.
One of them intercepts you as you approach. She is Palutena, your teacher and your adopted pod-mother. "Are you ready, Cel?" she asks kindly.
"I - suppose so, yes," you reply, half-truthfully.
Sllik sneaks up behind the two of you and makes a bizarre chortling sound.
Palutena turns. "No, Sllik, leave us," she scolds. "In time, it will be you in Cel's position. Your pod-sister is taking this more courageously than I've ever seen."
Sllik pouts and swims off into the distance, leaving you doubly unsure what to think of this.
Palutena returns to you, placing her fin atop yours in a comforting gesture. "Do not worry," she says. "Remember, you are a cetacean. No matter what happens on your Wandering, you have a friend in Mind. Whatever you come across out there, whatever you see - Mind is your friend."
"Alright," you reply, slightly relieved. "I'll keep that in mind."
"Now, have you a direction?"
You are to tell the panchayat which direction you intend on swimming. It must be a human city, then; dreams do not lie, and your dream held a city so immense you can barely fathom it. To you, the submerged towns dotting the nearby plateaus seem large enough. You almost shudder at the thought of a plain of flooded buildings, towers so high they reach above the surface of the water.
So to a city it is, then. You know of a couple in the nearby waters, and from Palutena and the other rishis you have learned some scraps of detail about them:
---
So which one?
A: To the northwest. Many Wanderers go there; few return. They call it a "city of lions," after a land-dwelling beast that some say still roams the plains. Of course, there are few plains to be found in submerged cities, but there is a great deal of knowledge to be found in this city's flooded gardens and wide streets, a testament to the folly of humanity's drive for modernity. Machina have overtaken what functions they can of the city, though these machina are benevolent and some Wanderers have been able to communicate with them.
B: To the south. A far larger city lies on a submerged shore there. Some call it a "city of victory." This happens to be where Palutena swam on her Wandering, and she is the only rishi - that you know of - to have gone here. She tells that there are still humans here, actual living humans, though they have regressed to a pre-enlightened state and lost all knowledge of their modernity and their machina, and that she was unable to communicate with them. Who knows? Maybe you will have better luck.
C: To the far north. The legends tell of another major city, a "city of incense," whatever incense is. It is a city said to be fabled for its walls, its stars, and its shadows. They say that even the greatest cetacean will surface and fail to see the top of the artificial canyons of this city. All your knowledge tells you little about what that means, and no rishi of your superpod has gone this far afield. You do not even know where your knowledge of the place comes from.
You re-enter reality after the strangest of dreams. You had been a human male, living in a city above the water. London, they had called it - funny, for was that not the name of the fabled city on the far side of the world? You remember riding in some strange machina, even flying through the air, and a number of other things that, come to think of it, make virtually no sense whatsoever.
The reality, of course, is that you do not in live in any city above the water, you cannot fly, you are not human, you are not even male, and you have never seen or heard of more than half of those strange things in your life.
"It's your big day, Cel." It is your younger pod-brother Sllik, who even after so many years has never truly gotten the message to just leave you alone. He prods you with his snout a couple times, as if to prove his point.
"What do you want?" you message back. To those unaccustomed to these sounds, they might sound like little more than odd pinging, or the icy calls from a strange machine. Those listeners could scarcely comprehend the length and breath of science and philosophy and history - and, yes, even culture - those sounds would have carried.
"It's time to begin your Wandering." Sllik calls, in a sing-song procession of tones. "And I have only half a day to annoy you, so here I am!"
You ignore Sllik, of course; he is correct, but you have far more pressing matters on your mind. Soon enough, you might as well thankfully forget him entirely. As you know, the Wandering is the coming of age for every adolescent cetacean, seeking, as you are, to become a rishi, a true vessel of this world's knowledge. If you return from this quest, not only will you be elevated to this superpod's panchayat, you will become hallowed in the annals of your superpod for eternity. For a whole year, you have prepared your mind and your fins and your telekinetics well.
After a quick meal, over which you hear little but Sllik's incessant chattering, you head off in the direction of the designated meeting place of the panchayat, the council of this superpod's other rishis. There are currently fourteen total, presiding over a total of some three hundred cetaceans.
One of them intercepts you as you approach. She is Palutena, your teacher and your adopted pod-mother. "Are you ready, Cel?" she asks kindly.
"I - suppose so, yes," you reply, half-truthfully.
Sllik sneaks up behind the two of you and makes a bizarre chortling sound.
Palutena turns. "No, Sllik, leave us," she scolds. "In time, it will be you in Cel's position. Your pod-sister is taking this more courageously than I've ever seen."
Sllik pouts and swims off into the distance, leaving you doubly unsure what to think of this.
Palutena returns to you, placing her fin atop yours in a comforting gesture. "Do not worry," she says. "Remember, you are a cetacean. No matter what happens on your Wandering, you have a friend in Mind. Whatever you come across out there, whatever you see - Mind is your friend."
"Alright," you reply, slightly relieved. "I'll keep that in mind."
"Now, have you a direction?"
You are to tell the panchayat which direction you intend on swimming. It must be a human city, then; dreams do not lie, and your dream held a city so immense you can barely fathom it. To you, the submerged towns dotting the nearby plateaus seem large enough. You almost shudder at the thought of a plain of flooded buildings, towers so high they reach above the surface of the water.
So to a city it is, then. You know of a couple in the nearby waters, and from Palutena and the other rishis you have learned some scraps of detail about them:
---
So which one?
A: To the northwest. Many Wanderers go there; few return. They call it a "city of lions," after a land-dwelling beast that some say still roams the plains. Of course, there are few plains to be found in submerged cities, but there is a great deal of knowledge to be found in this city's flooded gardens and wide streets, a testament to the folly of humanity's drive for modernity. Machina have overtaken what functions they can of the city, though these machina are benevolent and some Wanderers have been able to communicate with them.
B: To the south. A far larger city lies on a submerged shore there. Some call it a "city of victory." This happens to be where Palutena swam on her Wandering, and she is the only rishi - that you know of - to have gone here. She tells that there are still humans here, actual living humans, though they have regressed to a pre-enlightened state and lost all knowledge of their modernity and their machina, and that she was unable to communicate with them. Who knows? Maybe you will have better luck.
C: To the far north. The legends tell of another major city, a "city of incense," whatever incense is. It is a city said to be fabled for its walls, its stars, and its shadows. They say that even the greatest cetacean will surface and fail to see the top of the artificial canyons of this city. All your knowledge tells you little about what that means, and no rishi of your superpod has gone this far afield. You do not even know where your knowledge of the place comes from.
