Chapter 011 - The Ark of Dying Stars

  Magic, he was starting to accept, there was afterall some logic behind its nature, even if it was something he didn’t understand. Countless shows and games featured all levels of magical powers, even some of his preferred sci-fi dabbled in magic from time to time, so why was a living concept so difficult.

  The idea that Earth was gone, or on the other side of some broken portal was crippling to accept, but to move on he would have to find a way, and if what this Oracle says is even partially true, then maybe there is hope, maybe they know.

  “I cannot tell you what is beyond my scope of existence.” Knowledge had answered, a short melody of almost endless acceptance and sadness, and she had taken it from his thoughts again.

  Mark shook his head, an automatic response, but probably wouldn't help, “Please stop that, I’ve had enough of people poking around my head.” There was probably a little more sharpness to his words than he aimed as the healers stared in silent horror towards him.

  “What did you mean scope of existence?” Mark chose to move on to escape what he felt like a hope he was falling into.

  “All the right questions, curious and full of potential.” Knowledge spoke as she summoned a small orb of light and rolled it across her fingers, “We, are concepts manifest as I said, we are manifested by the thoughts and actions of the inhabitants of this world, no others.”

  The others seemed momentarily distracted by the orb of light, but not Jenny or himself, was this some trick of hers? Was the answer only for him?

  As Mark was trying to wrap his head around the concept of a living, breathing library, he became aware of another presence in the room. The change that is normally dismissed from the corner of the eye, what is never noticed unless you know how to. There was no sound, no door opening, no grand entrance. One moment there were four of them besides himself, the next there were five.

  Standing quietly near the tapestry was another woman. She was dressed in a similar, simple dress to Knowledge, but where Knowledge’s attire had a certain crisp, intellectual flair, this woman’s was softer, in a muted grey that seemed to blend into the room's quiet shadows. If Knowledge was a brilliant, sharp-edged crystal, this new woman was a smooth, unbroken geode.

  She stepped forward, her presence radiating a profound sense of calm that soothed the frayed edges of Mark's nerves. “Greetings,” she said, her voice a low, gentle murmur. “I am here to help with the purpose of understanding. You may call me Wisdom. It is a pleasure to finally meet you, Mark Shilling of Manchester.”

  She nodded to Knowledge. “Sister.”

  “Sister,” Knowledge replied with a smile. “You always appear when the ‘why’ becomes more important than the ‘what’.”

  Wisdom returned the smile, a subtle expression full of ancient, shared history. “And you always create such wonderful messes by providing only the ‘what’,” she countered gently. She turned her calm, impossibly old eyes to Mark. “The simple story of The Dead Earth and a new home works well enough for generations. It provides a foundation. But it becomes a problem when someone with a completely different foundation asks a question like yours.”

  At this, Jenny, who had been standing silently by, gave a deep and respectful bow to both women. “My Ladies,” she said, her voice full of a weary deference. “If you will forgive me, I believe I am getting too old for gatherings of this… significance.” She looked directly at Knowledge. “My Mistress, I apologize for my part in this. I will take my leave.”

  With a final, reverent nod, the old librarian slipped out through the tapestry-covered door, leaving Mark alone in a small room with two stunned healers and two beings who claimed to be the literal concepts of Knowledge and Wisdom.

  With Jenny leaving, Wisdom's words seemed to hang in the air, and Knowledge paused, her expression shifting from analysis to a grander, more narrative purpose. She turned her attention back to the table, where the sand-sculpted ruin of First Landing still sat.

  With a delicate, deliberate gesture, she reached out. The red sand collapsed upon itself, the broken city dissolving into a swirling cloud that momentarily obscured the table's surface. From Mark's perspective, it was like watching a world being unmade. Then, just as quickly, the cloud began to coalesce again. This time, however, it did not form a city. It formed a sphere.

  As the globe took shape, something new happened. Streaks of vibrant color began to flow through the red sand, staining it with impossible hues. Deep blues swirled into place, forming vast oceans. Patches of green and brown bloomed across the surface, creating the continents of a miniature, living world. Mark watched, mesmerized, as their world, this world, was painted into existence before him.

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  “You were guided to a book called The Ark of Dying Stars,” Knowledge said, her voice soft but resonant, holding the weight of a fundamental truth. “That is not the title of a children’s story, Mark. It is the name of this world, common knowledge, yet dismissed in its truth. You are standing upon The Ark.”

  Knowledge continued, the sand animation responding to her words. The miniature planet was suddenly surrounded by motes of black and grey sand, a sea of dying cosmos. “This Ark travels through the endless night of the collapsing universe,” she explained, her voice filled with a cosmic sorrow. “The purpose was never to be a sanctuary for humanity. It’s purpose is to seek out the last embers, the final light of dead and dying worlds.”

  “Our keeper, he calls himself Istos, is the collector of what is left,” she went on. “He gathers these fragments of magic and echoes of life, they fuel our journey and he preserves what he can.” Her gaze met Mark’s, and he saw a flicker of something that looked almost like pity. “His ultimate destination has never changed. The Ark of Dying Stars is destined to go to Earth, be it dead or alive.”

  A path home. The thought, however impossible, was a spark of light in his abyss of confusion. There was a way back!

  “Knowledge fails to tell you, but you must understand,” Wisdom interjected, her calm voice tempering the sudden rush of hope in Mark’s chest. “The journey is long, this reality is vast and the path is not straight. For us, here on The Ark, it has already been more than a thousand years since the Gateway was lost.”

  The sheer weight of it all was crushing, yet perversely, it was also clarifying. Mark let out a dry, weary breath that was almost a laugh. “Of course,” he muttered, mostly to himself. “Meeting actual, literal gods. As myth would have it, they give and take.”

  “Oracles,” Wisdom corrected him gently, though her voice held a note of firm authority that silenced the room. “Not gods. The first arrivals from your world were… particular about that distinction. They had their own beliefs, some still practiced today, and it was deemed prudent not to conflict with them.”

  Knowledge picked up the thread, her gaze on Mark intense and analytical. “We cannot tell you what happened to your Earth, Mark of Manchester, because our sight is bound here, to The Ark. We know only that the connection was severed. We do not know what became of…”

  “Sister, be careful,” Wisdom interjected, her calm voice cutting through Knowledge’s explanation with a sense of tension. She didn’t look at Knowledge, but at Mark, her eyes seeming to peer into a future he couldn’t imagine. “He may already know more of the truth than someone else does.”

  Knowledge fell silent, considering her sister’s words before nodding once. She refocused on Mark, her tone shifting from explanation to instruction. “Mark Shilling, accept my advice: Grow strong. Learn all you need and more, but never forget your old lessons. This world has new tools your old one lacked. And when you are ready, joining the next expedition to First Landing will give you the chance… to learn more.”

  The name of the city sent a shiver down his spine, only moments ago the site of loss in the sands. “What’s there?” he asked.

  “Answers,” Knowledge stated simply. “I know what lies behind those sealed gates, but it is a truth that must be discovered, not told. In time, all gates will open.”

  Wisdom added her own cryptic layer. “You already know the most important part of the puzzle,” she said, her soft voice making the impossible sound simple. “You know there is a broken gateway there. And you know that on this world, time itself is misunderstood.”

  Mark’s mind reeled, trying to grasp the threads they were dangling in front of him. He wanted to ask more, to demand a straight answer, but now he felt as small or smaller than the healers that brought him here. Knowledge just smiled, a serene and final expression that deflected all further questions.

  “That is enough for one day, I think,” she said. “We have left something with Jenny. A small gift to help you on your new path. It should make your first steps a little easier.”

  The room was heavy with the weight of their pronouncements. Mark was still trying to process the idea of a quest to a sealed city when Tori, her face a mask of awe and desperation, found her voice.

  “My Ladies,” she began, her voice small and trembling as she took a hesitant step forward. “If it is not an unforgivable imposition… may I ask for your guidance as well?”

  The two Oracles turned their attention from Mark to the healers. The playful, almost teasing energy they had directed at him vanished instantly, replaced by a cold, appraising seriousness. It was a subtle shift, but to Mark, it was profound. They had been engaging with him, testing him. They were now judging them. Their shared gaze swept over Tori, then lingered on Valerie, who looked startled to be included in the assessment.

  It was Wisdom who finally spoke, her voice as calm and steady as a deep river. “A request born of true need is rarely denied.”

  She and Knowledge looked at Tori, and as they spoke, their voices intertwined, one starting a phrase and the other finishing it in a perfect, harmonious cadence that was deeply unsettling.

  “The path you have been offered…” started Knowledge. “…will be challenging, and its rewards great,” finished Wisdom. “But do not be blind to other paths…” “…for they may yet be yours.”

  Their gaze then shifted to Valerie, who seemed to shrink under the weight of their combined focus.

  “You,” Knowledge began, her voice a clinical observation. “…are incomplete,” Wisdom continued. “Child of Titan, The Surgeon of Last Hope, and the missing…”

  The sentence hung in the air, unfinished. A puzzle with a vital piece withheld.

  And then, as quietly as they had appeared, they were gone. Their forms didn't walk away or vanish in a flash of light. They simply faded, their substance dissolving like smoke in a breeze, the very light in the room seeming to dim as their presence receded, leaving a cold void where their presence, their power once existed. Mark, Valerie, and Tori were left standing alone in the profound, ringing silence of the empty room.

  The silence broken only by the sands of the table falling to their default position as the magic faded.