甲辰 002: 處暑 [Throughout September]

[singlemilletgrain]

♪ Ti o o beh lok ho
Ah gung nag gia di tau beh gut o ♪

1: Seeds [Early September]
In a conical hat and durable overalls, she checks her setup, knots the ropes attaching the plow one last time, and gives her docile oxen an affectionate pat between the horns.

"He Sheng. Xiao Man. Let's do a good job today."

As she guides her oxen through the underground fields of Vault, she gazes upwards at the jagged, rocky ceiling of the Vault settlement and briefly contemplates with a faint frown. There was no way that the plants in these fields were getting all the sunlight they needed to grow properly. But she had ideas. For now, she could just be thankful she wouldn't get too sweaty.

Supremely self-unconscious, it isn't long in the day before she is comfortable enough to start idly singing, her clear and vibrant voice ringing out through the vast fields even as she works.

♪ Gut ah gut gut ah gut
gut diu ji bui suan liu go ♪
♪ yi ya he to jin jia cu bi

2: Light [Mid September]
Some weirdos are on 50 foot tall scaffolding doing something to the ceiling of the Vault. Below, two oxen meander around in circles, occasionally lowing in faint concern. The plowed and sown fields are growing miraculously quickly. September was the wrong month to sow wheat altogether, and yet an acre of rapidly growing buds are sprouting up as far as the eye can see.

Currently, Shu is clinging to the roof of the cavern in an enormously precarious situation, her tail wrapped around the scaffolding to keep her secure as she drills something into the rock. A young man near her is holding some blueprints and a whole heap of strange looking materials.

"The real problem is the unpredictability. Our efforts will go to waste if the equipment is damaged by a stray blast. If only we could find a way to protect the above-ground harvesting system... Ah! Tch, I dropped it. Well, let's take a break. Thank you for your time today."

The man gives a curt nod before descending the ladder while Shu sits cross-legged on her giant scaffold in the middle of a field and muses.

3: Harvest [Late September]
There is no possible way this field could already be yielding dividends. And yet it is, and Shu is patiently, single-handedly cutting down her crops that reach higher than her head, still hum-singing her song. The oxen now are familiar sights around Vault as Shu takes a ride on one whenever she needs to get anywhere particularly distant with groceries or other deliveries. They don't help, but they are cute, which is emotional help. This matters significantly more.

Anyone who approaches will be met with a beckoning hand or a distant call, depending on how far away they are.

"Hello! You are the help I advertised for?"

Regardless of the answer, a burlap sack and a sickle are thrust into their hands, because it is clear Shu is not listening. "Start here with me, and I'll show you what to do."

Ti o o, o o... ♪

Comments

[singlemilletgrain]

"Is it ignorant," she ponders, making her way further through the fields, "if I ask you what your understanding of 'magic' is? Magic in the world I come from is something limited essentially to the elves. Their source of power is poorly understood by the rest of us Terrans, but it certainly is not a god of any sort."

[spacetogrow]

Ilphyl nodded. "We're taught that the first god of magic created the Weave, which lets people use magic. Wizards learn to manipulate the Weave. Some creatures, and people, like sorcerers, can do it on instincts. Elves have a bit of that. Clerics and druids... the god creates the spell, and puts it in our mind when we pray."

Which was comforting, knowing that even in this world, Ilphyl had a thread of connection to their home. The explanation also missed bards, and warlocks, and probably other things.

"You're not an elf, though."

[singlemilletgrain]

"No."

She looks up with a faint smile.

"I am a Lung." Strictly not correct, but that was how her physical form presented. "The difficulty is that there are no gods in our world. Not in the way you describe. Some cultures have legends and stories that bear similarities, but they are simply stories. Most extraordinary power stems from a substance called Originium. But the elves have a power that is more pure than Originium. They say it is granted by the great elder trees they call their home."

She pauses.

"It is Originium, actually, that is destroying the elves."

[spacetogrow]

"Why?" Ilphyl asked. "Do people know?"

[singlemilletgrain]

"Yes."

She nods slowly, not making eye contact with Ilphyl.

"...Originium is a plague upon our land. We do not know where it came from or its purposes. We only know that it appeared one day after a Calamity and has spread across our entire world. It is extraordinarily powerful, high in energy yield, and the source of abilities beyond human imagination. Drawing upon Originium, powerful arts users can control time and space itself."

A pause as she turns her head down.

"Without fail, those who tap into Originium also contract Oripathy, an incurable disease. Those Infected turn slowly to dust. Merely breathing in Originium is enough to cause infection. And of course... its mere presence on Terra has contaminated our earth and land to such a degree that the elves can no longer survive. They must stay far, far away from any source of Originium. At this point, that is essentially the entire world."

[spacetogrow]

Look, that definitely sounded like something a druid should be trying to contain. Even if some people would accept the price for power, the fact that people weren't getting a choice, and it was killing elves was enough for Ilphyl.

"Can it be contained?"

[singlemilletgrain]

She shakes her head.

"Impossible. It is all over the world and more of it is generated with each new Calamity. At this point, the Terrans use it as their main energy source, dangerous as it is. Even if we had left it completely alone, the Calamities would have spread it far and wide."

That recurring word Calamity seems to have a specific meaning to her which isn't entirely shared by common parlance.

[spacetogrow]

Ilphyl nodded. "I was assuming the elves would have to compromise, if other people rely on having powers, even if it was dangerous. But if it's being made by natural disasters..?"

They assume that's what a calamity is.

[singlemilletgrain]

"I am not so sure Calamities are natural."

This was another great mystery of their world that has gone unexplained.

"But yes. There is nothing much we can do to improve the situation. One of my current colleagues - her name is Muelsyse. She hopes to find a solution for elves to continue living on in Terra."

Her previous solution had involved going into outer space, but that hadn't panned out.

"In the meantime, the organization I ally with is researching means of treating Oripathy. Perhaps those treatments will help the elves as well."

[spacetogrow]

"Maybe we can use the portal here. It's a better use than using it to kidnap people."

[singlemilletgrain]

Shu does not understand at first.

"To -- to bring all the elves of my world here?"

She stares for a brief moment.

"That is intriguing." A new elven homeland. "It does not seem a feasible plan at the moment, though. And I would not want Oripathy to start spreading throughout this world, either."

[spacetogrow]

"Or send them somewhere else. Maybe somewhere that can be quarantined so they know they aren't bringing their problems to a new world. If they want to go."

Ilphyl shrugged. "Assuming the transport works both ways." They hope so, because they want to go home eventually.

[singlemilletgrain]

"Hmm..."

She ponders this for a while. Indeed, the fate of the elves was something that was generally worrisome, though no one had any real solutions. In the meantime, they isolated themselves and sought to delay their destruction for as long as possible.

"That would certainly be a practical usage for this 'dimension traveling' magic. Perhaps it is something we can look further into. I must admit, I don't even personally know where to find the elves... Muelsyse has spent many expeditions searching for where they have hidden themselves. But perhaps there is a spark of hope yet."

[spacetogrow]

That was troubling if even another elf didn't know where the last bastions were. None of this was Ilphyl's problem, of course, but... it seemed like the sort of thing someone should care about, even if they could do nothing.

"It's good to have hope. Or that we can get something from this besides 'we were enslaved, and then we rebelled and had to fight to stay free on a plane we weren't born on'."

[singlemilletgrain]

"Hm."

Well, it was true, even if she didn't enjoy thinking of it quite in those terms.

"Well. At least I have learned some interesting strategies for cultivation." So saying, she stands with her sack full of harvested wheat. "Thank you, Ilphyl. You've been a great help with the harvesting. And I have learned a great deal about your world."

[spacetogrow]

"You're welcome," Ilphyl said. "Let me know if you need any help in the future."

[singlemilletgrain]

"I certainly will. You have been a great help today."

Shu bows to Ilphyl. They have made fair progress through the course of the conversation, and a solid quarter of her field has been harvested. The rest would be done throughout the remainder of the week.

"Would you like to take some grain home? Or perhaps I can make you some bread."

[spacetogrow]

"Bread would be nice. Or whatever you want to bake," Ilphyl said. "I'm not very good at anything that can't be cooked over a campfire."