Chapter 4: From Stardust to Bloodstream
“What do you think we'll find?”
Zia's voice came to Esteban like a sudden wake-up call from his contemplation.
“Oh...uh, well. If we find anything at all, it'll be a good start.”
“I hope the fort is still standing. If there really was a catastrophe, people would have taken refuge inside.”
“I wouldn't be so sure about that. It was in quite a mess when we've last seen it.”
And the world below was in no better condition.
As soon as the snowy peaks of Tibet had changed into warmer landscapes, the signs of contamination could already be seen. Under a hot sun and azure sky, green vegetation everywhere had been browning and withering; but in its stead, new plants have grown, speckling the land with seafoam green and teal blue. Some trees had managed to resist the unknown blight, and their colors and shapes were being changed too; as for what animals they could see below, they too were no longer of the old kind.
During a landing somewhere in the northern regions of India, Zia had tried to beckon a few goats closer so they could get something to eat. She's never had any issue with animals before; but where she once could guess the thoughts of a tiger or command a pack of mole rats around, she found these changed goats to respond differently. Their coats were bearing stripes and patterns that would not naturally occur, and their thoughts were...ordered. They were wild animals, but they came to her before she reached out to them, as if they could tell her intentions. The tricky part was to get them to be milked, for even if they seemed docile enough for wild animals, they were quite defensive, and did not hesitate to voice it with their oddly acute minds.
“It's very strange.”, Zia had commented, looking over the odd tint of the milk she's managed to obtain. “I've always managed to guide their thoughts where I wanted them...but it's like they were fighting back with me. Like they were
arguing.”
“You did say that some animals are too aggressive to be reasoned with.”
“It's not that either. An aggressive animal will refuse to listen to me; it will not engage in mental conversation.”
She took a cautious sip. It was her first time drinking any milk in years, so she could not tell whether there were differences in taste from a normal goat's milk.
“Do you think that animals are getting...smarter, or something?”
“I wouldn't put it past all that 'contamination' business. I ran into crows back at Chambord...they seemed to be oddly organized. I could almost hear them in my head.”
Zia picked a few blades of grass by the Chascowa's leg, where they were sitting to eat. She's never recalled grass being this almost blueish color; yet somewhere over there, goats were grazing without issue.
“Air, then water, then flora, then fauna.”, she recited. “The air and water that feed the plants change them...and plants change the animals that eat them. Presumably, anything that eats these animals will be changed too.”
“Anything...or anyone, right?”
“That's where it seems to go astray. There have been no notes of animals dying from the change, only people.”
She thought back to Nostradamus in his den. Blind, thriving in darkness, yet having stronger visions than ever.
“But some people see themselves changed.”
“I don't get it. Why would some people die, and some receive...upper powers?”
They will make their way to the mind of those born from the mud. They will awaken the blood of the Ancients in those worthy of it.
Zia aimlessly poked some dirt with her foot. Those born from the mud...born from dirt...from stone...? She recalled the legends of her homeland, the legend of Viracocha creating men from small stones, picked out from the mud left after a great flood. Air, water, flora, fauna, then humans.
Humans, by way of the food chain, would awaken the blood of the Ancients if they were worthy of it. But what did it mean to be “worthy”? As for the “blood” part...Zia already had an idea of what it meant.
“I wonder.”, she said after a moment. “Do you think that...there's many descendants of Mu out there?”
Esteban chuckled.
“With all the times Tao had called himself the last of them...there wouldn't be, no.”
“But then
I learned I was one. So...what if there were others? And descendants of Atlantis, too?”
“I mean...there weren't many Muans or Atlanteans left after the Great Cataclysm anyway.”
“Even if there only were a handful left...what if they had large families? A lot of children, whom in turn had many children, who all spread out over the world over thousands of years.”
“But wouldn't they know?”
“You didn't.”
Esteban stumbled on his words a little.
“...I was not raised by my parents. I'm sure that if Athanaos had brought me up, he'd have told me of our ancestry.”
“My parents have brought me up. And yet they've never told me anything about Mu.”
She looked up.
“The more I think of it, the more it makes sense. Everyone is born of two people, who are in turn born of two people each, and it doubles with every generation. Going back thousands of years, anyone could have a descendant of Mu among their ancestors!”
“Where are you going with this?”
“Imagine, Esteban. Imagine if all those changes happening in the world are meant to benefit those with Muan or Atlantean ancestry. Imagine that...somehow, the contamination could tell of your origins, and awaken abilities of your bloodline, just like I did!”
“Which means that the people that died...weren't descendants of Mu or Atlantis? I mean, it's possible, but...”
He thought deeply for a moment.
“...why? Why would this unknown illness only affect those who have a distant relation to the old continents, and kill off everyone else? What about animals, why aren't they harmed? You can't tell me that all animals on Earth are of Muan blood too!”
“Obviously not...but this would make sense.”
“Make sense with what? Where did you even come up with that theory?”
“I had a vision.”, she half-lied. “Something about...the blood of the Ancients, awakening through...through the flora and fauna, and everything.”
She's twiddled with that piece of grass so much by now that it had broken into bits between her fingers.
“All over the world, an unknown pestilence spreads.”, she pondered. “It spreads through the water and air, and affects the plants. It spreads so fast that there's no containing it. Animals that eat the plants get changed in turn, and become smarter. And then, humans that eat either the animals or plants get changed, but only if they have Ancient ancestry; if they don't, they die of poisoning. In the end, only plants, animals and people affected by the contamination remain.”
They will shape the world into one worthy of the Ancients.
“But why?”, Esteban asked once more. “Why would that even happen? If the Muans could foretell things, why wouldn't they tell us that it'd happen?”
Zia frowned.
Waiting, slumbering, patiently counting the hours, we are on our way.
Her throne was built on lies.
“...we must find Tao.”, she decided, suddenly getting up. “I have a bad feeling about all of this.”
“Right...well, at least it's good to know he'll be spared.”
Right. If anything, this was some hope to hold onto.
~~~~~
As they've expected, the fort of Patiala was a mess. It was clear that reconstruction hadn't progressed a lot following the events of three years ago. And yet, as they approached the red walls, a familiar sight came to grace Esteban's eyes.
Landed right at the base of the fort, was none other than the Golden Condor.
Zia carefully brought the Chascowa closer, and Esteban switched it to land drive so that it could rest on solid feet. The feline-like craft laid down, allowing them to leave through the window hatch, and take a few steps under the hot Indian sun.
“Just look at her. It's as if nothing has changed!”
Esteban flicked his medallion, and the Condor replied, though with a little bit of delay.
“Where are you going?”, Zia asked.
“I'm just going to take a look!”
How it all felt so familiar. Everything was just as he's left it, and he could still recall what had caused each of the little dents and bumps over the seats and controls. But as he passed his hand over the dashboard, he noticed that the control key had been taken off: a caution he's once taken, but that had felt unnecessary ever since they've discovered the beak access.
“Tao must be keeping it with him.”, he concluded.
He looked around the empty cockpit, as if expecting something to happen. He didn't know why, but there's always been something about this winged machine that felt...peculiar. A comforting feeling that he's never been able to put into words. Yet now that he stood there, something just felt missing.
Something he's never noticed before, but whose absence weighed on him.
Climbing back down, he followed Zia towards the palace. Everything seemed oddly silent, and the jungle all around had not been spared. Through the dying green branches, blue ones had started to grow, although many trees had been felled. This region hasn't been spared by fear either. Even the rich red soil seemed to have morphed somehow.
The palace doors were closed, but there were no guards keeping watch. Zia feared the palace had been vacated; but just as she thought that, the doors opened on their own, leading the way to the main court.
“That's odd. Was that the wind?”
They stopped, and carefully listened. There were voices coming from there!
“I don't think so.”
And slowly, the two of them made their way in.
There were people. Actual human beings, for the first time in ages. Esteban gasped with wide eyes, visibly delighted, whereas Zia knew what to look for; and indeed, when the palace workers turned to them, she saw the marks of change on their bodies too.
Patterns. Spirals. Little details that should not have been there.
“Over here!”
She quickly turned in direction of that voice. She knew it…!
“Is that…?”
“Gunjan!”
The boy ran their way, and the two came to meet him. He had obviously grown, but he still was recognizable.
“What a pleasure to see you here! We thought you'd never come back!”
“It's so good to see you too.”
His face was still the same, but it now bore familiar spiral patterns too. It didn't surprise Zia: after all, if Patiala truly had been a capital of Mu at some point, then many people still living here today would have Muan ancestry. There might be hope after all.
“Gunjan, we've been away for too long. What has happened here? Is it the-”
“The blue plague? You've caught it too, I see.”
He gestured around them.
“It seemed to have come out of nowhere! We've done all we could, but we couldn't find an antidote...”
“I don't think it will be so simple. Take us to the Order's laboratory, please, I'll explain on the way.”
“The place is still in quite a mess...but alright. This way.”
And as the three of them walked, Gunjan shed some light on their situation.
It was just as Zia had guessed. Crops were affected first, then cattle, then people. Many measures had been taken to prevent the spread of what was thought to be a dangerous illness, but none had managed. Neither medicine nor prayer could save lives fallen to poisoning. Neither science nor spirituality could explain the odd abilities awoken in those that survived.
“I've been practicing.”, he explained. “The other day, I managed to lift a whole rock only with the power of my mind! But it still left me with a horrible headache.”
“And...can everyone do the same?”
“Some are more skilled than others. But everyone is wary, and it's best to not show off these kinds of things.”
He sighed.
“Tao has been hard at work trying to come up with an explanation for this...”
“Where's Tao? We need to see him!”
Zia looked at Gunjan, who avoided her gaze. He said nothing for a few more moments, before sighing, and leading them towards another wing of the fort.
“I bet he's developed some crazy ability.”, Esteban mused. “Maybe he can shape orichalcum with his mind!”
“That would be very useful.”
But Gunjan didn't seem to share their enthusiasm. Without a word, he brought them to one of the bedrooms, and turned to the two.
“Be careful. He's very weak. I should not let you in before you've purified yourselves, but...if what you've said is true, then it might make no difference.”
Zia didn't seem to understand. But still, Gunjan opened the door, and she and Esteban made their way in.
The sight they were met with immediately made their hearts sink.
Laid on a bed, surrounded with books and flasks and all sorts of tools, was Tao. He was unusually pale, his breath frail. He was young, just as young as the two of them, and yet in this pose of ailment, he could have well been an old man on the brink of death.
“Tao!”
Esteban rushed to his bedside, and held his hand. A familiar hand that felt awfully cold. Most of all, Zia noticed it bore no patterns.
“Tao, can you hear me? It's me, Esteban!”
Slowly, Tao turned his head, and opened weak eyes.
“...Esteban?”, he breathed. “What...?”
Zia came over in turn, to hold his hand as well. Tao looked at the two of them, as if he couldn't believe it; and in turn, neither could she.
“Tao, what's going on?”, she asked. “How come you're...?”
“The...blue plague.”, he said, as if trying to warn them. “It's in the wind, and the water...”
“Yes, Tao. We know. Nostradamus has told me all.”
Both Tao and Esteban looked at her, but she ignored the latter.
“How come you haven't been changed? I thought...
you of all people would be fine! You're a descendant of Mu, after all!”
Tao weakly chuckled.
“It's funny how life works...”
He coughed a little, and Esteban helped prop him up on a pillow so he could sit up.
“That's what I was always told. And it holds true to this day. I've given my life for Mu...but Mu hasn't given me that life.”
He looked at Zia.
“My father was a descendant of Mu. His culture is my culture, and he taught me all I know. And yet...it remains I am not of his blood.”
“What? How can this be?”
Esteban didn't have to wonder.
“You were adopted.”, he deduced. “Like I was, at the monastery.”
“I've tried my best to acclimate to these changes, even though they could only occur on those carrying the blood of Mu. At least, that is what I thought.”
“And you were right to.”
Zia held his hand tighter.
“Tao, I think we haven't been told the whole truth. Something's gone wrong, and we thought you of all people would know where.”
She looked at him in the eyes. How sickly he seemed...
“Nostradamus told me something strange: 'she whose throne was built on lies rests where it all began.' Does this mean anything to you?”
“Where it all began...”
He closed his eyes, either in thought or in fatigue, before opening them again.
“I'm not sure what this means. But I am certain of something: these changes in the world took place soon after we destroyed the meteorite. If my instinct is right, then the two are linked somehow.”
“But how? We destroyed it, you just said so!”
Again, he remained silent for a moment.
“When it exploded...a rain of rocks and dust fell all over the Earth. I've since calculated their trajectory and where they would have fallen...and they happen to match with the first reports we've had of the blue plague taking place.”
“You mean...the meteorite is what brought the plague to Earth?”
“I'm not saying it did...but there is a chance it might.”
Esteban and Zia looked at each other.
“Is that what the Muans wanted us to prevent? The contamination of Earth by this blue plague?”
“But that means we've failed! We've destroyed the meteorite, and yet...”
Zia blinked.
“And yet...”
She thought back to the beginning. To when they've met the luminoprojections of the nacaals in Badalom, and were told to unite the Cities of Gold. Seven Cities, one great goal. One final solution to save the Earth from danger.
They've done it. They've done as told. They've found the six Cities, united them into a seventh, blasted that huge rock to bits. And now...the bits have fallen back on Earth, and corrupted it into an environment with Muan plants, Muan animals, Muan-blooded people. Those that did not share that blood would die of poisoning or starvation.
She looked outside the window openings. The sky was the exact same shade of azure as the Flipside. Everything...everything seemed tailored to Muan preferences.
Her throne was built on lies.
“The princess...the nacaals, the Muans...”
She turned to the boys.
“What if, ever since the beginning...they've all lied to us?”
Esteban frowned.
“Why? You mean...they
wanted this to happen?”
“What if they
did?”
Their sudden absence, right after the destruction of the meteorite. The slow but steady cultivation of a world meant for a Muan-blooded population. The oddly convoluted plan of finding seven Cities of Gold throughout the world, gathering all sorts of data, using all kinds of artifacts in a specific spot, all to destroy a meteorite that somehow had been drawn in twelve thousand years ago by a war so tremendous that it changed the very motion of distant stellar bodies.
We are on our way.
“What if...they've tricked us?”
And like a wave of winter snow, the weight of revelation sent a cold chill through the room.
“We have to find her.”, Zia said, feeling something start to rise within her. “We need to.”
“You're coming with us.”, Esteban told Tao. “To the Flipside. There's got to be a way to heal you!”
“I can't. Look at yourselves: you've been touched by the blue plague, even if you don't see it. What if this world kills me faster than this one?”
He had another coughing fit, and Esteban helped support his back.
“Besides...”, he continued. “The Order of the Condor isn't over just yet. I have to finish my research while I still can.”
“But...what if you don't make it? What if we never see you again?”
Tao looked at them. His eyes were full of an emotion Esteban couldn't name, and yet he didn't need to put words on it either. It just was something they knew.
They knew they'd never see each other again. Not in the cruel way this world played with them.
“Tao...where is Mendoza?”, Esteban asked, feeling like he already knew the answer. “And...Laguerra, and Gaspard? What about Sancho and Pedro, do you know what's become of them?”
Tao didn't answer. He looked down, and Esteban understood all the same. His heart sunk in his chest, heavier than it had ever been.
“You need to go where it all began.”, Tao suddenly said, as if trying to change subjects. “The source of all of this.”
“But where could that be? The Cities of Gold?”
“No, way before that. You need to find the continent of Mu.”
Weakly, and with some help, he reached for a scroll near his bed. Unrolling a map, he pointed to a part of the Pacific Ocean that has been drawn over, showing a rough outline of the sunken continent as well as annotations.
“Trade ships have sent word of odd sightings around this area. Islands that were not there before, wind that behaved strangely. I would have gone to see it for myself, but I know I won't.”
“Don't say that!”, Esteban denied. “We'll find a way to make it all better. We'll heal you, and you'll come with us!”
“Esteban, please. Don't make this any harder than it needs to be.”
Yet it was obvious Esteban would not listen. Zia decided to act, and showed Tao the parchment from Nostradamus.
“Do these numbers mean anything to you? I think they're coordinates, but...I'm not sure how to read them.”
Tao looked them over, having to hold the paper close to his face.
“...this is an old charting method, but I've seen it before.”
He compared to the map, and followed a line somehow dictated by the grid of numbers.
“Somewhere around...here.”, he said, pointing to an area in the middle of what would be the continent. “Esteban, I think you can translate it to modern coordinates. You just need to convert units.”
“...I'll try.”
Esteban sighed.
“We'll find a way. We'll find a way to save you, and all the people that need it! If we've been tricked...then it's up to us to fix our mistakes.”
“We couldn't have known.”, Zia said. “Besides, the alternative would have been to let the meteorite crash on Earth.”
She looked at the map. Where everything began...
“We'll find Rana'Ori. And she ought to tell us how to fix this.”
“I doubt there is anything to be done at that point.”
Tao sighed, looking out the window.
“Nor is there pondering the what-ifs and should-haves. We can't erase the past.”
The sound of a bird's wings flapping came to Esteban. He looked around, but saw nothing.
Mendoza was gone. Everyone was gone. The people he's known and loved...everyone, everything was falling apart.
Zia had seen this before. Or rather, she had dreamed of it. Tao, Mendoza, Laguerra, taken away by darkness spreading over the Cities. She thought the construction of the Shield and the destruction of the meteorite had changed things...but perhaps her dreams had never been about the meteorite's approach. Perhaps what she's seen was something even worse, that would only come once it was too late.
She sat on the bed, looking at Tao with sad, tired eyes. Slowly, she leaned in, and planted a gentle kiss on his forehead. It did not mean anything; after all, they've always been close enough to afford it. Esteban sighed, before moving to sit on the other side of the bed; and, after some hesitation, did the same.
“This isn't the last time we see each other.”, he assured, trying to sound confident.
“...I hope so.”
Tao weakly smiled. Outside, someone knocked at the door: it seemed it was time for him to take some medical treatment. Esteban and Zia left the room, map in hand and questions in mind.
“We should not have left him.”, said Esteban, once they've returned to the Chascowa. “We could have brought him with us!”
“You heard him. The Flipside would just aggravate his symptoms.”
“What if he's wrong?”
“We can't risk it.”
Esteban sighed. All of this was starting to be too much for him.
“...I want to go home.”, he said. “Before we search for Rana'Ori. I need to replenish myself.”
“Right.”
Esteban grabbed the commands, switched to the greenish sky drive, and the Chascowa moved off the ground. Now was time to part from this sight and place, and return to the world of azure and gold that they've known for three years.
One of loneliness, endless exploration, and unanswered questions.