The Spaces Between

The Spaces Between.





CHAPTER 1'

         The Sun broke over the mountain tops that outlined the horizon.  It cut through the dark and began to bake everything in its wake.  the desert seemed to stretch on forever.  Hard stone and soft sand, scorched trees and cracked earth.  Until it finally came to the walls of Light.  The City of Limbo.  A city of refined ore and metals.  The walls of the city were tall and colored silver.  The sunlight reflected from these walls and baked the sand immediately around the city to glass.  The walls of every block-like building were of a dark coarse metal.  But it absorbed the heat of the sun and stored it well without baking the residents.  The buildings were arranged in neat rows within the city walls and were stacked, in some places, atop one another.  Forming tall narrow towers.

         The sunlight climbed up the side of one of these towers and found its way into a slim narrow window near the top.  It lit the deep red rugs and curtains.  The pitch metal furniture and wall mounted decorations.  It rolled up the side of a bed and found its way over Lazarus's face.  His long brown hair, draped messily over his eyes, did little to block the sun.

         Lazarus woke and rolled over in his bed.  The piercing rays of sunlight warmed the back of his head and neck.  he lay there comfortable for a moment.  Enjoying the warmth of the sun and the blankets.  He smiled and imagined himself sleeping in for a few more hours.  ***

         He didn't lie there.  Not for too much longer after he'd woke.  Lazarus rolled over and up onto his feet.  He walked over to his large metallic wardrobe and added a light, tight, white sleeveless shirt to his loose white pants.  He strapped a belt around his waist that held his sword.  Then he strapped a tight white vest over his sleeveless.  Under each arm where slits for ten small daggers that were tucked  in the vest to conceal and keep them silent.  though the blades were not in their slots at the moment.  Last he sat in an large, tall backed, metal chair and slipped his boots on. 

         Just as he was finishing the last knot on his boot strings there was a knock at the door.  "Breakfast for the captain."  said a brisk voice.  Lazarus shouted for the man to enter.  His servant Brawn did and laid down a tray of mostly fish but a few strips of greens as well.  Lazarus thanked the man as he left and quickly ate his breakfast. 

         After breakfast he walked over to a wall mount that held his weapons.  A one handed glass sword, with only one edge, rested on the top most rungs.  He picked it up and ran his eyes over it slowly.  The glass was hazy, not clear.  In the center of the sword itself was a long, sporadic and branching, sliver of red.  He sheathed the sword, seeing nothing wrong with it, and proceeded to pick up the twenty small throwing daggers.  Each was of the same hazy glass and each had the same red substance pooled into the rounded handle of each dagger.  He slid them into their own little spaces in his vest and then turned to leave the room.  only as he turned away from the wall mount he noticed that he had only slipped nineteen daggers into place.  he began to think about whether or not he'd broken another before he decided it would have to wait.  It was going to be a long day, he knew, and he wanted to get as early a start as he could.    He turned and left his chamber.

         The hallway, like his bedroom, was of the same coarse black metal.  it was narrow with long, thin, strips of the glazed glass spaced along the ceiling letting in a faint glow of the morning light.  He walked down the corridor and entered a stairway.  He passed a few open entrances to other box rooms of varying sizes on his way down.  in some rooms men were stacking armor, in another sharpening glass swords.  though these swords bore none of the red that twined its way through Lazarus's blade.  In yet another they were cooking and sewing.  Each room lit with a candle or two but with the same strips of glass running through the ceiling.  The men and women working glanced and smiled as they saw Lazarus trot past and he smiled back. 

         Finally he reached the ground floor.  the narrow staircase giving way to another narrow hall.  There were three doors but he made his way straight for the door opposite himself.  Before the door, hanging from hooks on the walls, were white garments.  There were a few different styles.  but they all achieved the same thing.  They provided shade.  it was still early morning and the sun wouldn't be burning him quite so badly yet.  But one never left home without their Cowl.

         Lazarus's Cowl Draped around his shoulders and continued to unravel in rags until it covered him down to his waist.  He reached back and pulled up a shabby hood also stitched together out of rags.  This was the usual Cowl of a commoner and Lazarus wore it with pride. 

         He pushed his way out of the door and stepped out into the dry, hot, morning.  This side of the city was set up a little higher than the rest and he could see over the lower part clearly. 

         Off to the right The sand, and the emptiness that accompanies it, seemed to stretch on into infinity.  It was so bright and hot over in that direction that no man could stare at it too long.  To the North, off in the distance, beyond the burning sands was and Ocean.  On the edge of that ocean one could see, just barely, Atlantis.  City Of the Water.  The city that Supplied Limbo with fish and crops in exchange for ore.  That was where Lazarus was headed today But He took a moment to look off to his left. 

         Off in the distance he saw the mountain come into view out of the horizon and continue until they passed Limbo.  Then the mountains, dry and bare, Cracked and Terrible, Fell away into a crag.  A canyon.  The canyon stretched on for a while before coming back up as mountains on the other side that continued down and into the ocean.  The crag itself however was remarkable.  A small forest of green trees grew up near the opening.  Bushes  and flowers spread along the tree line.  Odd monkey lizard like creatures dashed their way around the trees and other four legged oddities ran rampant.  Near the middle of the opening the growth grew even taller but rising above the growth one could see the mirage.  The waving, moving, mirage of heat as it rises.  It rose off the city over the canyon, Lazarus knew, but he did not spend time thinking about the doomed city. 

         Lazarus had been part of the patrol that once went to one side of the Crevasse and they had confirmed the growth continues all the way down to the canyon floor.  The colors were what got to Lazarus the most.  Everything in the city was either white to repel the sun.  Or black to absorb it.  Sure rugs and drapery were different color.  But all he had to look at here was sand.  He loved the red and purple of the flowers.  The deep and light green and browns.  He wanted to spend his time THERE.  But he couldn't.           

         He hopped down the stairs that led up to the Large, Boxy, Looming tower and started down the sloped street.  The Black box buildings stretched out on either side of Lazarus.  The buildings were all Boxlike and stacked atop each other though not so high as the tower Lazarus had come from or the other looming Tower on the other side of the city.  Lazarus was walking down the center of market street which had yet to open.  He was sad it wasn't open.  The bustle of the people and haggling of coin was one of the reasons he enjoyed his job so much.  There was so much to listen to and to watch.  Like the platforms of metal that rose and fell with passengers.  They were large enough to hold twenty people and could support more.  The great gears behind it would grind and the chains would rattle as is worked.    But now there was silence.  So he walked quickly over the dried earth.

         He reached the low end of the city and approached the group of guards forming up.  Their white Cowls looked like tight, thick, armor that had been strapped to their body's too tightly.  They all held Long, slender, glazed glass spears and a large glass shield in the shape of a teardrop.  Behind the guards were two Lizards that rose, easily, to Lazarus's elbows.  These were the Ghe'dra.  The mounts and pack animals.  The large lizards were strapped to a large Sled that was being filled with empty, large, metal boxes.  he turned his gaze back to the gates and saw a Cowl that he recognized.  It was Straight, long, and formal.  The sleeves had crisp fold lines and the hood had a perfect rim.  usually they edges of such a Cowl would be gold.  But the edges of this one were black.

         The man in the Cowl was short and wide.  He carried himself as if he were ready to brawl at the slightest whisper of an insult.  But that was how he always carried himself Lazarus knew.  The man turned away from the guards and made his way over to Lazarus.

         "Mornin' Laz'."  He grumbled as he grew near. 

         "Rutio."  Lazarus nodded in greeting.

         "Glad ye' decided te go 'long.  The men are fearful of te journey ta Atlantis these days.  But knowin' That "Lazarus the 'slit'" is going 'long should calm der nerves a bit."  Rutio grinned as he Called Lazarus by his nickname.  Playfully nudging Lazarus with his elbow when he said it.  A nickname that Rutio had given to him months before and that Lazarus found fairly overdramatic and annoying. 

         "I always enjoy a chance to see the Canyon up close."  Lazarus said through a mischievous grin.  Rutio leaned in a bit closer, worrying Lazarus, and spoke in a conspiratorial voice.

         "A'least save yer huntin' Excursion till our return trip eh?"  Rution asked.  Throwing as much sarcasm on 'excursion' as he could.

         "Of course friend."  Lazarus smiled easily again and laughed before adding,  "I thought you were going to ask me to come to the next council meeting."  Rutio's hood swung back and forth as he shook his head with a chuckle as the look of worry left Lazarus's face.  "You know i can't stand to hear you and those old fools bark at each other." 

         "Aye Friend I know.  Are ye packed n' ready?"  Rutio asked.

         "Yea.  Good to go.  Which beast is mine?"  Lazarus looked as Rutio pointed out one of the slimmer Lizard beasts.  Lazarus nodded and walked over to the Lizard.  it nuzzled at his hand as he walked by.  Lazarus frowned.  This one seemed to tame for his tastes. 

         He saddled the lizard and hoisted himself up.  watching as all the guards in their tight cowls did the same. 

         Rutio left the mass of guards and walked over to the merchants.  Lazarus watched impatiently.  he leaned over to one of the guards and said,  "You think Rutios any good in a fight?"  The guard immediately responded.

         "I don't sir."  He said it without inflection.  he said it with complete poise as well and Lazarus rolled his eyes.

         "Don't bark sir at me friend.  Call me Lazarus."  Lazarus reached out a hand.  The guards head inclined just slightly and he said,

         "You're...  Lazarus the 'Slit'?"  He asked.  Lazarus again rolled his eyes and shook his head.  Then took a deep breath and let it out threw his nose. 

         "Yea.  I suppose i am."  Lazarus lowered his arm as he spoke.  This was the price of having a reputation AND rank.  The guards didn't cozy up to the guy who was supposed to be leading them.  Who They thought of as better than them or who they perhaps... feared.  The guard came back to full attention and Lazarus sighed silently to himself.

         "It's an honor to have you with us sir."  The guard looked nervous and Lazarus hated it.  How come the only friend he'd ever made had been a street rat.  A starving kid on the street that would have just as soon carved him up as say hello.  That wasn't entirely true.  The rat was civil now. 

         "Don't bother with the Sir, friend.  I'm a Guard.  Just like you and the others."  If niceties wouldn't work perhaps equality would.

         "If everyone was a Guard like you sir.  We'd have none to fear but ourselves."  The Guard saluted and led his lizard away to join the other guards.  Lazarus glowered after him.  Then glanced up and around to spot Rutio or another guard he actually knew.  After seeing that most of the guard were new recruits he suddenly understood why the kids wanted him along.  He didn't think any of these boys could defend themselves, never mind others.  After that he found Rutio.

                     Rutio seemed to be doing a lot of talking but Lazarus couldn't hear what about.  the merchants and wagoneers finally all nodded and Rutio turned round and caught sight of Lazarus. 

         "Te Faye want me along too."  Rutio grumbled as he walked up to Lazarus.  "yer Father won't like it, but te Faye Lords don' trust dat te merchants will get te fishermen to give em' fair prices unless n' Ascended's along." 

         "Sounds about right."  Answered Lazarus.  "The Faye wouldn't want extra coin's to rest idly in commoners cowl's."  they both laughed but made sure they weren't too loud so as not to draw the attention of the Faye Wagoneers. 

         Lazarus's attention shifted to the back of the city.  The raised section he'd set out from.  On the left of the crest was his home, and home of the Guard.  Manor De'thain.  Opposite Manor De'thain was another tall, thin, tower.  With box rooms jutting out of its slender frame.  Faye Keep was home to the Merchant family who ran the city.  They were from Atlantis originally but came here to seek trade for their fish.  Threw guile and manipulation they took control.  Bartered for Atlantis's fish with Limbo's Ore.  They had a monopoly and they ran things their way.  They were also the manufactures of the lifts in the city and the Great Gates at the city's entrance, The sleds that the Ghe'dra hauled, the city itself.

         "And of course, the pale skins, couldn't go to Atlantis themselves."  Lazarus finished.  Rutio laughed and turned to get his Lizard.

         "Course not,"  Rutio called back.  " 'Te leave the dealin's of street rats, to street rats."  Lazarus grinned and pulled his mount up to the large metal gates. 

         "Alright lads, form up around the wagons.  Merchants stay inside the formation or on your Ghe'dra."  Lazarus pointed as he shouted the commands.  The new guys had to be shown and taught on the fly.  They had enough respect from the stories they'd heard to go where ordered.  To listen to Lazarus's every command. 

         Soon the Wagons were surrounded and the Ghe'dra were in single file, the merchants grouped in tightly around their wagons.  Lazarus waved to a Faye Servant at the gate.  The man's cowl shimmered its golden reflection as he turned and pulled a large lever down. 

         Giant gears surrounding the gate began to turn and scrape against each other.  The slap of metal on metal as each new gear tooth collided with the next was enough to make each man blink.  Slowly the gate pulled back and away from itself.  The two great doors parting to let in even more heat.  The warmth washed over them like a wave powerful enough to make some of the merchants step backward to regain their balance.  The sand followed the heat.  It found its way up their hoods and into their faces.  Stinging them a thousand tiny times on their cheeks.  Most brought their arms up to cover their hoods and faces.  But they were too slow.  Some of the merchants who had been unlucky enough to have had their mouths open when the sand hit were choking and wheezing, gasping for water.  But after the initial blast the sand died down.  The wind was strong and it threw the sand around slightly, but not enough to impair visibility. 

         Lazarus turned as the large formation began to move toward the shining pane of glass that stretched out  a few dozen meters from the city's gates.  He eyed the merchants to make sure no one actually gave the fool any water.  It was a long, dry, journey.  they didn't need to go wasting water on every fool who was going to be choking on sand.  No one did.  He turned his attention back up to Rutio and made sure to get back into the formation. 

         The circle of guards broke down about two hours outside the gates.  The heat was dry and ripped at their lips and tongues.  Leaving not even the slightest bit of moisture.  Everyone sipped at their water constantly, but sparingly.  The sand was no obstacle.  Growing up in either Atlantis or Limbo you lived in the sand.  They knew how to place their feet how to use the sliding of their feet down each dune to ease their step.  The lizards slid down each dune, the Merchants grabbing hold of the sides of the sled to ride it on the way down and for a while, they had fun.  Everyone knew that the danger wasn't really until they drew up even with the crag.  So until then they all decided to group up and chat.  Lazarus trotted his Lizard up next to Rutio but just before he got there someone called out behind him.

         "Um, Lazarus, sir?" Said the voice of a young man.  Lazarus turned to see one of the guards, in his tightly strapped uniform cowl, trotting his Ghedra Over to him. 

         "O' e' hates te 'sir' bit."  Rutio commented without turning to face them.  Lazarus rolled his eyes.  At both of them.  He motioned with his head for the guard to pull up next to him.  The three of them were in the front of the rest, their ghedra slithering and sliding over the sand. 

         "What's the name?"  Lazarus asked. 

         "Atrian... sir."  Atrian finished lamely.  Tilting his head forward mockingly.  Lazarus was amused.  The kid was bold and witty. 

         "Call me Lazarus." 

         "Call em' Laz."  Rutio butted in again.  "Lazarus is a mout'ful, ain't et' so Atrian?"  He looked over his shoulder waiting for Atrian to respond.  The kid didn't waste any time.

         "Laz then?"  Atrian said.  Lazarus could see the grin behind Atrian's hood.  He sighed to himself and carried on.

         "Laz is fine."

         "I wanted to ask you why they call you 'The Slit.'"  Rutio laughed at Atrian's question.  But Atrian carried on quickly, "I came from Atlantis and all the guards talk about you.  They say you have a hundred slits going up each arm.  Is that" 

         "You're pretty bold Kid."  Lazarus said it flatly and it cut the kid short just like he had intended it to.  Lazarus grinned to himself and said, "But yes, it's true."  The guards cowl raised and turned toward lazarus.  He could feel Atrian's gaze heavy on him.  "Curiosity sated?"  Lazarus asked. 

         "What are all the slits for?"  Atrian pressed.  Rutio laughed again.  Atrian turned to look at Rutio but didn't dare speak out of line to an Ascended. 

         "The other guards haven't told you?"  Lazarus asked.  Rutio Laughed even harder.  "Rutio?"  Lazarus called.  Rutio came down off his laughing fit after a moment or two.

         "You never told any of the guard, ya just told me, friend."  Rutio said.  He began to chuckle to himself again.  Lazarus thought about it for a moment and realized Rutio was right.  He'd never told anyone but Rutio about his daggers.  But he had assumed Rutio would tell someone, anyone, they were no secret.  But instead his friend had given him the nickname 'Lazarus the slit'.  Lazarus finally came to see the joke in its entirety and he chuckled along with Rutio.  Atrian, however, stared at both of them with a slight tilt of worry to his hood.  Lazarus waved a hand at Rutio as if to dismiss him and spoke to Atrain.

         "Be careful around Rutio, Atrian.  My old friend is known to be mischievous... and a bastard at times."  Lazarus laughed.  He turned with a sudden change in the wind to keep the sand out of his hood.   

         "So the name is a joke?"  Asked Atrian.  His question rang of concern. 

         "No," Rutio said.  "I ment' it.  It's a good name."  Lazarus glared at his friends back. 

         "Truly?"  Lazarus asked sarcastically.

         "Yer' skilled with em', those daggers, and those slits are proof."  Rutio said it sagely.  With an air of challenge to anyone who wished to say otherwise.  The guard turned to look Lazarus up and down searching for the daggers.  But the ragged cowl made it impossible to see if Lazarus was even armed at all. 

         "Your scars represent your skill with your daggers?"  Atrian asked, confused.

         "I Throw daggers."  Lazarus started.  "When i was learning i didn't do it at the barracks or at Manor De'thain."

         "You did it at the Canyon, at the edge of the growth."  Atrian butted it.  Lazarus snapped his head in Atrian's direction.  "The other guards say you venture off to the canyon occasionally by yourself."  Which Lazarus could tell Atrian thought was insane.  He heard it in the boys voice.

         "The guard keeps closer tabs on me than i thought."  Lazarus grumbled.  A little embarrassed to know that his fellow guards kept up with his comings and goings.  "But yes.  I practiced using the swinging lizards and the giant beetles that wandered into view out of the growth.  Sometimes i could get one out in the clearing and take a clean throw at it."  Lazarus pulled out one of his daggers.  The slender blade with the rounded handle.  the slight bulge in the bottom of the handle contained a small pool of red.  "But sometimes, Sometimes, i couldn't pull them out into the clearing but i'd take my shot.  Whether i hit it or not.  But I wasn't going to crawl into the growth to get my dagger back."  The guard was eyeing the dagger.  "So i had to keep making more." Lazarus explained.  Atrian was silent and Lazarus took this for incomprehension.  "Do you know what the red is in the butt of this daggers handle?"  Lazarus tossed the dagger gently between their Ghe'dra.  Atrian fumbled in the air but caught the dagger managing not to cut himself.  Lazarus chuckled a little at the boy.

         "It's Blood."  Rutio said after yet another moment of silence. 

         "Your blood is in your weapon?"  Atrian asked.  Rutio leaned over and looked up Atrians hood. 

         "Are ye stupid?  Or were ye a lower street rat than me?"  Rutio laughed.  He patted Atrian on the back to let him know he was only joking with him.  Then he continued, "All the Ascended Have their blood in their weapons, only our friend 'Slit's' over there,"  Rutio wrapped his arm around Atrian and pulled him close.  Then he pointed at Lazarus and said conspiratorially, "E' decides e's got too much blood.  He wants to take up throwing daggers so he can drain his blood a little every time he loses one."  Rutio continued to drone on as if he were teaching a class.  He spoke sarcastically, letting go of Atrian and gestured vividly with his hands.  "So e' does.  E' goes out n' makes is' daggers and cuts himself up to do it.  Then goes and throws em' away whenever 'is blood rises too much.  Then 'e makes more, Right Laz!?"  Rutio leaned forward looking past Atrian and Lazarus was shaking his hood.  "n' pretty soon, ye look like ye been sleepin' wit' too many women."

         "Rutio, where do you find the time to craft such nonsense."  Lazarus said, the others could hear the smile in his voice though.  Atrian cut in.

         "So Laz, loses his daggers.  Makes more cuts to make more daggers.  Only tells you."  Atrian points to Rutio.  "And you go and give him the nickname without explaining why Laz is running off to the canyon."  Rutio grinned and the other two just barely saw it under his hood.  "Then, when he returns, he seems to acquire more and more scars."  Atrian grinned.  He turned and looked at Lazarus.  "No wonder the guard are so nervous around you."  Atrian turned his attention to Rutio and, apparently feeling a little more relaxed around the Ascended now, said, "And you are a bastard."

         "You ARE bold kid."  Lazarus said.  Rutio roared with laughter.  It came up right out of his gut and he slapped Atrian on the back. 

         "I couldn' NOT do it lad.  It's been to fun to watch te guard tip toe around Laz.  Like he's been possessed by the Growth or Sumthin'!!"  Rutio continued to laugh.  Atrian and Lazarus did as well though not so strongly. 

         The sand seemed to never end as they moved on.  Getting closer and closer to the canyon and the growth.  It was coming in to view clearly now.  They were able to see individual leaves, at least the larger ones, lying on top of the canopy.  Down another sand dune they went.  The Ghe'dra and their sleds sliding down and across the sand easily