Beneath

I have no idea how long that message had been sitting in my inbox. The message was from Jeff Zandi, despite the wishes of the DRC he was giving me the means to reach The Cleft.

Despite it being late August, the temperature was extremely hot, thankfully I had packed plenty of water, I was not used to American weather. I had been walking a while, eventually I started recognising the landscape from my previous visit, and as if to signal that I was on the right track, on the horizon I could see the volcano.

I had spied the volcano even before I had noticed the fence that surrounded Zandi’s land. As I walked over to the infamous Airstream trailer I was surprised to find Jeff himself waiting for me outside.

Surprisingly he had little to say to me, he mentioned a message waiting for me from “her”. After I finally got the windmill working and power running in The Cleft, I discovered “her” message.

Shorah. Rekooahn treCleft preniv legloen b’rem… Oh yes, not in D’ni, they won’t understand.

Once again, the stream in the Cleft has begun to flow. It was dry for so long. The water is flowing in from the desert. The storm is coming.

Have you heard of the City? The deep City, the ancient Uru? Where there was power to write worlds? For thousands of years, the City lived; lived beneath the surface, keeper of the secret, keeper of the power, keeper of the Ages. Always keeping. The City grew proud, and then it died.

The water flows where it wills. It seeks its own path uncontrolled except that it flows downward, always downward.

D’ni, the City of Ages, of other worlds, died. But now it breathes again, it awaits. Some will seek that destination, but you should seek the Journey. It’s as a fine tapestry, complex beyond comprehension, but now torn. We will show you remnants; pieces of the tapestry. Pieces of the Journey. Find the remnants, these Journeys. Seven. Seven in each Age, seven here in the desert. Consider it a quest. No, a request.

Worship.

The water flows downward, and there it pools and collects, and finally, it reaches the roots. And the tree begins to grow again.

I am Yeesha. My parents brought me to this place. We will bring you.

There is much to study here, there is a document seeminly penned by Atrus’ own hand to Yeesha, his daughter.

I shall return here with the means to copy the document for future referencing.

Despite his lack of words Zandi has been most helpful in tracking down the cloths Yeesha spoke of. One of these cloths was attached to a familiar looking skeleton, that of a Wahrk. Not just that, but close by was the remnants of the telescope Gehn had used to monitor the Fissure.

Incredible.

It seems the cloths allow for the doorway under the tree in The Cleft to be opened. Opening it revealed a tunnel that lead to a cave, on the walls I discovered numerous pictograph and a Linking Book.

A Relto book, my Relto book.

It’s been a long day, the cave is nice and cool but I need to find a place to rest. I will chronicle the pictographs when I return here, but for now I shall Link to Relto and see if I can rest there.

Tags: Jeff Zandi, The Cleft