Book of Marrim

Original Release Date:N/A
Publisher: N/A
Author:Unknown

Book is currently on the Cyan backburner.

Synopsis

Releeshahn, the new home of the D’ni people, written by Atrus. The Book of Marrim is the story of Marrim native of Averone and one of Atrus’ expedition party during the attempted rebuilding of D’ni and the events of Terahnee.

The animals know. They just seem to have the knowledge inside them.

For the last two weeks, the vast flocks flew overhead for reasons unknown to Marrim, to places unknown by Marrim. And here again in this perfect place she found herself longing for something.

Ironic. She stared as they passed high overhead. These animals seem to know things of the Maker and things of this place, yet they don’t know… that they know.

And they share nothing.

Marrim shaded her face from the bright sky. Her gaze drifted downward to the sharp tip of The Pillar. She came often to this particular point on the hillside, because from here The Pillar – the thin, thousand-foot-high, metal spike – stood out clearly against the sky and was centered on the Bow. The tremendous ever-present Bow stretched from the eastern horizon to the Western high in the southern sky. From this particular location on the hillside, The Pillar and The Bow aligned – The Pillar like an arrow pointing upward, pulled back in the Bow, ready to be let go.

The view of The Pillar and Bow would change depending on the time of day, and seasons. At first she thought it was as if a great archer in the earth was pulling The Pillar slowly into the ground. But it was The Bow rose slightly above the sharp tip of The Pillar. Marrim could closer one eye, look at The Pillar and The Bow, and imagine that the slim pillar actually balanced the huge bow on its tip. Balance and symmetry – this was her favorite spot.

What am I looking for? In this wonderful place, what hole in me need to be filled?

She followed The Pillar downward to the tiny village that seemed to leak out on the ground from its base. Village seemed like too grand a word for what it was – more like an elaborate encampment. The new D’ni? It hardly lived up to that title. Yet, life here had been so perfect, so easy. Their village appeared to be growing outward from the Pillar – The Pillar of Atrus, as they had named it. Ropes tied to the pillar held up canvas tents – a few large meeting tents closer to the Pillar, smaller home-tents farther from the Pillar. Beyond the homes were informal fields and orchards, barely more than loosely fenced-in areas that simply demarcated where their crops grew and their animals grazed.

Was it possible to be lost here? The Pillar of Atrus was a constant reference. They certainly hadn’t strayed far enough to ever lose sight of it. But, the pillar was more than a landmark – it was also a foundation. It had become the very heart of these pioneers. Their village was anchored to the pillar – physically and emotionally attached to it. Crawling outward from it like roots growing along the ground from the trunk of a great tree. They were connected to the perception of comfort and protection.

Certainly The Pillar, like the world itself, was a gift from Atrus. Certainly. What else could it be?

Marrim drew a deep breath and held it, as she had done many times before at this spot. Life was wonderful here. Atrus had indeed become a master of the D’ni Art of writing worlds, and this was his masterpiece. He had penned words in a Book using the ancient art to create a link – a bridge – to this new world. Releeshahn he called it. He had written Releeshahn specifically to renew D’ni, a place for the once great empire to start over. The civilization that had all but died less than a century ago in their underground city had produced a seed that would grow in this new Eden. And by any measure that Marrim could imagine, it was truly a paradise. For the last four years they had done little more than attach their ropes and their lives to The Pillar of Atrus and enjoyed life. Little else was required. The weather was warm, the soil was rich, the plants and animals were plentiful.

These large flocks of flying creatures – we’ve all been surprised at how good they taste. Maybe that was why they had suddenly appeared. The Maker was supplying food – taking care of our every need again. Certainly.

But she used the word certainly to try to deny the uneasiness. In spite of all that was wonderful, certain aspects of this new place continued to gnaw at some people here, including her husband Eedrah. He was uneasy yet again – now because of this odd new migration taking place above them. He again was questing the origins of the Pillar of Atrus and its twin, the Pillar of Catherine, further up the valley. She chose to believe that they were put here by Atrus, or the Maker, for them to build on. Perhaps it was just some part of human nature that if there weren’t big things to worry about, we would find the little things. She accused him regularly of turning raindrops into oceans. She didn’t see any value in trying to answer this silly questions of origins and nature.

What good would it do to find out what the pillar was made of? Or to find out what was far up the river. A waste of time.

Marrim herself was more concerned with what she thought were larger issues. This tiny group was all that remained of the proud D’ni culture, now starting fresh here in this completely new place, this new Age. This pillar, in this village, on this world was a place of new beginnings, an attenuation in time, where a civilization that had existed far beneath the surface of the earth for more than ten thousand years had been reduced to almost nothing and then sprouted to life. What D’ni would become would be determined here. How much of the old D’ni should be brought with them? How much of the heritage, the writings, the history, the knowledge, the culture?

This must be what makes us more than the animals. This deeper knowledge of where we have come from.

Why had Atrus given them no instructions on how to rebuild D’ni, and where was he now? After several visits here he had departed and not returned, leaving them with these words, “Make this age your home.”

At least she and Eedrah had that much in common – they both sought answers.

She stood up and brushed the back of her sun-cloak. She sighed as she began to walk down toward home. That’s when she noticed the huge dust cloud traveling quickly up the valley toward the village.