Slate met with a small group Dahzi had gathered together in the castle the next day, to share with them his plan for the Book of Knowledge. There was almost instantly talk of rules and regulations, of secrecy, of the exclusion of certain undesirables from the proceedings, but Slate wouldn’t hear it. A whip-fast, complete saturation of the knowledge in the Book was necessary for his plan to work, and there was no time for talk or bureaucracy.
Over the next week, the kingdom of Morai launched a massive printing operation. The seven books that Slate had traveled the world for were compiled into a masterwork and copied to templates, which were then printed off by the hundreds. Morai’s artisans painstakingly recreated the pictures in the Books on plates for the presses as the trees around the city fell in an ever-growing ring, their wood taken for the paper mills. Crates of the Book made their way out from the kingdom across the continent, and as a result people from all across Proterse started to flock to Morai.
As the technologies and techniques in the Book were studied, understood, and then put into action, life in Morai started progressing exponentially. A super-lightweight, wickedly accurate longbow was developed. Citrus lighting was next, which increased the number of hours in the day that Mearror’s people could read and thus how quickly they could learn and produce. Trips out of the town's walls to wild orchards were now accompanied by fantastic steam-powered carts, unpolished metal monsters that made the journey more efficient and so less frequent. New medicines for all manners of ailments came available daily. Each hour brought a new wonder.
Slate and Arianna were helping move a new crate of Books from the presses when a familiar voice called out.
"Who's that there now?" the voice asked.
Slate turned and saw his friend Juke smiling.
"Juke!" Slate said. "That's another of my friends, from Jaidour," he added, to Arianna.
"It's a really small continent, isn't it?" she joked.
Juke grabbed Slate and gave him a hug. "Who's this here now?" he asked of Arianna.
"This is Arianna Falls," Slate said.
"Ah yes, Ms. Falls, I've heard a lot about you. Though, you're twice as beautiful as Slate described," Juke said.
"Oh, well," Arianna said, blushing.
"What are you doing here?" Slate asked.
"I've come to see you," said Juke.
"How did you know I was here?" Slate asked.
"Don't you know you're famous? Word is spreading, Mr. Ahn," Juke said. "And so is your Book!"
"Famous? You heard about the printing?" Slate asked.
"Heard about it? Friend, we've got our own press operation going already," Juke said. "They’re springing up everywhere! You've started a revolution."
Slate couldn't believe it. “You’re producing the Book too?” he gasped. “In the Ojikef?”
“Yes sir,” Juke said. "Things are changing pretty fast back at the village. They’re ready for it. It’s incredible. And I get to be the emissary between them and the outside world."
"How's that going?" Slate asked.
"Seeing as I have no experience, it's going exactly as well as it could," Juke said. "Really, though, I've been able to help them quite a bit. And they've helped me, too. So much."
“Juke!” Slate cried with happiness. “It’s working! Oh, I can’t believe it!”
Juke beamed at his friend’s elation. “What you're doing here will change the world," he said. "But you must tell me, how did you come to acquire the Book in the first place?”
“Oh, yes, I’ll tell you all about it, to be sure,” Slate said. “But first, let's go see Dahzi.”
The friends all met in the throne room to discuss the future.
“Anything’s possible now,” Dahzi said, his eyes bright. “Who know what corner of the world will seize the knowledge and make the greatest leap forward with it? Weapons are the least of it. Who knows what wonders are in store?”
“It’s really amazing,” Ertajj said. “I never thought I’d live to see such an incredible thing. I was convinced the world was doomed.”
“Well, I’m sure there will be more instances of the knowledge being used for ill,” Slate said. “It’s foolish to think that just because it’s out there that it will be used for good.”
“But at least everyone is starting from the same page,” Arianna said. “For maybe the first time in history.”
“There are still resource inequalities,” Juke said. “But we should not dwell on the problems in the world, not right now. There is so much to celebrate. A new day has dawned!”
As Slate was now the unlikely face of a hero, he found himself longing for days gone by, when he could move unknown across the lands, when anonymity was his greatest ally. It seemed his journey was finally at an end. He was ready at last to go home.
After goodbyes and promises of reunions, Slate, Arianna, and Pilotte were carried away from Proterse in one of the newest inventions to spring from the Book of Knowledge, a hot-air balloon. Its pilot, a man named Geroniu, was a funny and effusive sort, and had all sorts of stories to tell his passengers to make the trip go by quickly.
Six days were passed floating over the Florian Ocean in Geroniu's balloon. When verdant Aelioanei revealed itself on the seventh, the pilot let out a sigh of relief.
“Oh thank the Gods," he said. "We made it."
"Did you think we wouldn't?" Slate asked.
"Well, I've only flown one of these two other times. This was pretty much an experiment. But it was a successful one, wasn’t it? Now, I’m going to have to change the gas and burn out the engines before we try to go any further,” said Geroniu. “We actually cut it pretty close."
"Where on the island is that?" Slate asked, looking over the edge of his basket. "I can't quite tell."
"We’re just outside Magri right about now,” Geroniu said. "Should have you back to Alleste tomorrow."
The craft alighted on a wide field of scrubby grass. Geroniu rolled over the edge of the passenger basket and disappeared into a case of tools hanging from its side.
“What can I do to help?” Slate asked.
“Know any good jokes?" Geroniu asked brightly. "Dirty ones?”
“There’s the one about this plumber...” Arianna began.
Just then, something whipped past Slate’s ear.
“Did you hear that?” he asked.
“Hear what?” Geroniu and Arianna asked together.
Slate heard another something whizz by, and then a thwack, as an arrow lodged itself into the balloon’s basket.
“Run for cover!” Slate yelled. "We're under attack!"
Geroniu dove back into the balloon's basket as a barrage of arrows came volleying from the nearby woods.
“Please, stop! We don’t mean you any harm!” Geroniu shouted to whoever was shooting. He took Slate by the collar, saying, “They’re going to puncture the balloon! They want to kill us!”
The barrage of arrows stopped.
“Maybe they heard you?” Slate asked.
“Maybe they’re out of arrows,” Arianna countered.
Slate rose up to peer over the edge of the balloon basket. He saw four people approaching.
“Hello!” he shouted.
“Stay there!” one of the people shouted back.
Slate climbed out of the basket to face the strangers standing up. “My name is Slate Ahn,” he said.
“What nature of Gods are you? Are you good or evil?” one of the strangers asked.
Geroniu’s eyes lit right up. “Ohhh. They think we’re Gods. Could you imagine, if we played along...”
“Absolutely not,” Arianna said sharply.
Slate began his way toward the strangers with his arms in the air as a show of deference. “We are not Gods, friends. We are human, as you are. We’ve just come from Proterse,” he said to the two men and two women standing before him.
“What nature of beast is that?” one of the men, still clutching his bow tightly, asked of the balloon.
“It’s a sim
ple assemblage of natural parts,” Slate said, “Composed in the most ingenious of ways.”
“Natural? Flying through the sky? It can only be the supernatural!” the other man said. He fell to his knees, crying, “Oh, mighty ones, forgive us! Be gentle with us!”
“No, no, no,” Slate said, moving to help the man up.
“He must be a God! So kind and virtuous!” one of the women said.
“Please, please, listen,” Slate begged. “I can show you how we did this. You can even build balloons for yourselves, we can show you how. There is nothing to be afraid of anymore.”
“How could you possibly teach such wizardry?” the woman asked.
“Here!” Geroniu shouted, as he tossed a stack of Books to the confused quartet.
“What is this now?” one of the men asked with tears in his eyes.
“Read, and you will see,” Slate said.
“But I can’t read,” the man said.
“Then have one of your friends here read it to you,” Slate said.
“None of us can read,” one of the women said.
“Can anyone? In town?” Geroniu asked.
“Yes,” the woman answered.
“Well then go get one of them to read it!” Slate said.
“As you command!” one of the men said, gathering up the Books into his arms and running off into the woods. The other three strangers followed after, checking back over their shoulders as they went to see if Slate, Arianna, Geroniu, and Pilotte had remained corporeal.
The balloon's passengers waited for an answer from the town’s educated to find them, rather than trying to go into the city and risk causing mass hysteria. Geroniu proved to be good company, a funny and jovial sort, and he, Slate, and Arianna passed the two days’ wait talking optimistically about the future, while Pilotte took it upon himself to make sure they had plenty to eat.
On the night of the second day camped on the outskirts of Magri, some two or so hours after sun-down, Slate perceived a flickering light in the distance, one which moved and grew until it revealed itself to be a small train of fire, burning torches carried by a group of townspeople. The townspeople were nearly silent, if indeed they spoke at all.
“Now what do you suppose this is all about?” Slate asked, calling Arianna and Geroniu's attention to the activity in the woods.
“Well,” Geroniu said apprehensively, “I can’t recall too many good things starting with a mob carrying torches.”
"Wait and see," Arianna said.
At reaching the field where the balloon was sitting, one of Magri’s elders stepped forward holding a copy of the Book. “Where did you find this?” he asked Slate in a voice both kind and wise.
“The whole story is too much of a tale to tell here, sir,” Slate said, “But what I can tell you is that there is a printing operation in Morai, on Proterse, that made your copies.”
“Are the four of you Gods?” the man asked.
“No, sir, as we told the others,” Slate said, “We are certainly not Gods. Well, maybe Pilotte.”
“Do you know the Gods?” the man asked.
“Well,” Slate joked, “I cannot speak for Geroniu, but I do not.”
“I don’t know any gods either, sorry,” Geroniu admitted, obviously disappointed to let the old man down.
“Why have you come here?” the man asked.
“We are on our way home," Arianna said.
“I see. And how long will you be here?” the man asked.
“They're heading home, but I'll stick around if you want, so that you can start to print copies of the Books for yourselves,” Geroniu said.
The townspeople gasped and turned to one another in surprise.
“That’ll be fine,” the man said, trying to maintain his authority over the quivering group. “I don’t see any problem with that. Now tell us, what are your names?
My name is Slate Ahn. This is Arianna Falls, that's Pilotte.”
“Geroniu Chalk,” the balloon pilot said with a bow.
A voice came from under the flickering glow of the torches.
“Slate Ahn?”
“Yes,” Slate answered, straining to see into the darkness.
“Slate Ahn from Alleste?”
“Yes, yes? Who’s that?”
“Slate, you don’t know me, but I know your brother, Greene,” the voice said.
Slate was floored. “You know my brother?” he almost whispered. “Currently?”
“Yes,” the stranger said, as he moved to the front of the awestruck crowd. He was wide-eyed and nervous. “In fact, I can take you to his house, if you’d like.”
“Right now?” Slate asked.
“Or, whenever you’d like,” the stranger said.
Slate knew he had no choice but to go straight away.
“Would you do that, please?” he asked, “Will you take me to him?”
Arianna grabbed Slate's hand. "Do you want me to go with you?" she asked.
Slate thought for a moment. "No," he answered, "You stay here with Geroniu and Pilotte."
"Are you sure?" Arianna asked.
"I’m sure," Slate answered. “It’ll just be a short while.”
Pilotte must have sensed Slate was nervous, because he walked over to his friend and buried his shaggy head in his chest.
"It's alright, buddy," Slate said to the wulf. "I'll be right back, okay? There's something I have to do."
Geroniu and Arianna stayed behind to answer the rest of the crowd’s questions. After a short walk, Slate left his guide on the main road and walked up the long path to Greene’s door.
He knocked softly, and then stepped back into the moonlight. There came nothing from the house, and so Slate looked back over his shoulder at his escort as if to question the whole ordeal, but he couldn’t find him. Slate knocked again, a bit harder, and then he saw a candle flicker to life somewhere in the depths of the house, through the window beside the front door. The candle bounced and weaved through the darkness inside, past the window to hide behind the door, which then creaked open just the slightest bit.
“Hello? Can I help you?” asked the sleepy voice from behind the door.
“Is it… I’m sorry, is… Greene? Greene Ahn?”
“...Slate?” Greene pulled the door all the way open. “Slate, is it really you?” he asked, trying to recognize his brother’s face in the contorted shadows of candlelight.
“It’s me! It is really you?” Slate asked, though he knew it was. He stepped up onto the porch and grabbed his brother, squeezing him tightly. “Greene!” he cried, as his brother laughed and pushed back.
“Slate! Shhh!” Greene giggled. “What on Alm are you doing here?”
“Well, I flew here, actually,” Slate said. “Would you believe it? You will. Anyways, how long have you been here?”
“About two weeks,” Greene said. "Met a girl who lives here when I was up in Nowhere.”
“You were in Nowhere?” Slate asked. “Me too!”
“You’re kidding. I’ve been back to Aelioanei twice, to try and find Dad or you, but the house is empty. And now here you are! Where have you been?"
“Just about everywhere,” Slate said. “It’s a long story.”
“Slate! I can’t believe you’re standing here!” Greene said.
“Did you hear about Dad?” Slate asked.
Greene searched Slate’s eyes and knew something was wrong. “What happened to him?”
“He died, trying to protect a stranger,” answered Slate.
Greene fell back from the doorjamb into the darkness of the house.
“I know. He wanted me to tell you he loved you,” said Slate.
Greene reappeared, his eyes wet with tears. “Damn,” he whispered.
“I know,” Slate said again. “It happens so fast, doesn’t it?”
“I guess so. You want to come in, brother?” Greene asked. “We’ll have to keep quiet, but I’ve got some pretty good cider, if you’re interested.”
“I’d
love to, but I’ve got some friends waiting for me outside of town. A lady of my own, in fact. Would you rather come with? We’re on our way back to Alleste.”
“I can’t leave Valera,” Greene said. “I know that sounds…”
“No, no, I understand,” Slate said. “I’m happy for you.”
“You’ll really like her, I promise,” said Greene. “I’ve got a little bit of business to finish up here, then I’ll come find you back home, okay? You going right back there?”
“After we stop in Aislin,” answered Slate. “It’ll be great to be back home together!”
“I still can’t believe it,” Greene said, smiling.
The brothers conducted a silent study of the moon.
“So this is probably it, for now, huh?” Slate asked.
“For now,” Greene said. “Just a little while longer, though. We’ll catch up. I want to hear all about your wild adventures.”
“Greene, I tell you, you won’t even believe half of them.”
“I can’t wait.” A voice called to Greene from somewhere in the house. “That’s Valera,” he said. “I should be getting back to bed so she doesn’t worry.”
“Go to it,” said Slate.
He and his brother hugged again.
“See you real soon,” said Greene, as Slate turned from his brother’s porch and began to walk back down the pathway to the road.
Slate turned back without stopping and said, “Real soon. Love you, brother.”
“I love you too, Slate,” Greene called after him.
Geroniu stayed in Magri to help start their printing operation, leaving Slate, Arianna, and Pilotte to find their way back home on foot. Travelling north along the Parian Divide, they came to Arianna’s hometown of Aislin, where they shared their incredible story with Mrs. Falls and started a printing operation with Brit. After two weeks, with Mrs. Falls’ blessing, they retraced Slate's steps back over the Blue Bridge, though Mearror, and all the way home to Alleste, to find the tiny hut he had fled what felt like lifetimes ago overgrown.
Slate and Arianna revitalized the dormant fields around the Ahns’ hut and nurtured the land’s fruit trees back to life. Greene and his partner returned to the village to help the endeavor two weeks later, and soon many others came to the once-abandoned place, to help it heal and regrow.
The world was forever changed by the dissemination of the Book of Knowledge, but none in Alleste save Slate, Arianna, Pilotte, and Greene knew that some of their own villagers were responsible for it. Slate Ahn had gone clear across Alm and back again, leaving it forever changed, only to reclaim his simple way of life in the north, far away from the rest of the world.
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