Unable to stop or to understand that he was walking under the scorching sun towards death, Aarvo carried on step by step, guided only by an instinct of which he was no longer aware.
He walked and walked, until suddenly he realized he was being followed. Out of the corner of his eye he caught a glimpse of some figures sneaking up on him, but every time he turned around to get a better look, they disappeared, hiding behind some boulder, a slope, or in the sand itself that stretched everywhere. Although he couldn't see his pursuers, Aarvo felt the evil presence of their eyes spying his every step, weighing his every uncertainty.
He sped up, trying to look strong, but something in his gait must have betrayed him, because the figures of a dozen sickwalkers suddenly materialized around him. They knew he was weak, he was sick, and were closing on him!
He stared unblinkingly at the misshapen white bodies that rolled forth in the dust with blind and evil intent, as their tentacles stretched out toward him. What were they going to do to him? Were they going to eat him alive or turn him into a ghost like them? Were they going to kill him?
“Stay away from those dead things that pretend to be alive!” said his mother.
Aarvo was glad to hear her silvern voice again. She had finally woken up and now was going to help him. “Make them go away, Mom! Make those nasty things go away!”
“I can't, but you can. Pick up some stones and throw them at those things. Show them you are alive, my son, that you are not afraid. Send them running for the hills!”
“I'm tired, Mom. I'm sick. I don't know if I can do this.”
“All you need to do is hit one, little pebble, and you'll see. Don't give up!”
“All right.” Aarvo bent down, picked up a moonstone, and threw it with all his might against the nearest sickwalker. As soon as the rock hit it, the ghost exploded with a sharp cry and dissolved into a fountain of sparks like shooting stars. His mates turned around, and walked away uttering a chorus of hideous whistles and wails.
Aarvo felt a throb of relief and slowed down. “Thank you, Mom,” he said, but his mother didn't reply. “ Mom…?”
A knot of panic caught in his throat, in his chest. Why didn't she reply ? He didn't want to be left alone! “Mom! Mom!”
“What about you stop screaming!” said a voice behind him, a voice that sounded like his mother's, but was younger, full of life.
Aarvo turned around and saw Eera looking down at him from the sky.
“You know Lissa is dead” she said “She can't hear you anymore.”
“No, that's not true. She just spoke to me… She helped me. She's just sleeping.”
“Whatever… So you don't want to come and see me anymore?”
Aarvo froze, confused. “I…”
“There are a lot of friends here waiting for you!”
“Really?”
“Of course” Eera said and began showing him her children: they looked like trkrits, but were taller, with grass green eyes, earth brown skin, and hair as white as clouds—all very nice, friendly, and great friends with each others.
Aarvo stepped toward Eera, then the parching thirst that haunted him pulled him back. “Now I can't, I need to drink” he said between his teeth, and resumed his journey.
“Here it's full of water! There are rivers, lakes, oceans of water where you can quench your thirst.”
Aarvo became confused again, but kept on walking. “You are too far away. I don't know how to reach you. I've tried already.”
“Don't worry. I'll help you.”
The vision of water cataracts and immense oceans flooded Aarvo's mind. “No” he said with a tremendous effort “you're too far away. I'm almost there. It's almost over. I'm almost there.”
“Are you sure?”
“Sure about what?” Aarvo asked, baffled by Eera's sarcastic tone. He turned around, but Eera had disappeared from the sky, swallowed up by the darkness of night in space. Sure to be almost there? Was that what she meant? Did she mean he was going in the wrong direction?
He turned around and tried to sense where north was. He found it a little more to his right than he expected, but not so much that he was off the road. Then why did Eera ask him whether he was sure?
He was too tired to reason over it, so he resumed walking.
“Where are you going?” asked his mother's voice.
Aarvo smiled. She had woken up again—he told Eera she wasn't dead. “Mom, hi, how are you? Are you okay? Did you get some rest?”
“Aarvo, where are you going?”
“I'm going north, Mom, to drink. What's wrong?”
“Why are you leaving me?”
“Leaving? I don't want to leave you. I'm just trying to get something to drink. I need to drink—I'm sick.”
“I heard you talking to Eera!”
“Mom, really, I don't want to leave you. You must have misunderstood.”
“Don't lie to your mother, Aarvo, I heard you!”
At that moment, he became aware of the thundering booms rumbling in the distance. He knew that noise… The towers… The Thundering Towers of the far side! He was close then, he was almost there!
He tried to continue towards the distant rumbling. “Mom, I told her I didn't want to go… I told her no.”
“Why are you leaving me? What have I done to you? You can't leave me!”
Suddenly, the lunar plains in front of Aarvo started swelling. His mother shook and in violent sobs raised mountains to blocked his way.
“Mom, no, stop. I need to drink! Mom, please, you're hurting me, you're killing me. I need to drink—I'm sick!”
“Don't leave me! Don't leave me!”
Aarvo gave it all he got and clambered up on one mountain after another, with his core pounding in his head like a shower of boulders from deep space. Through the deafening noise of the mountains splitting the earth, he lost track of the thundering booms on the far side and went on blindly, not sure where he was going anymore.
Then, he suddenly found himself in front of a mountain he knew. But it was impossible… He had left Trom Kor behind… How could it be in front of him now!
“Mom, what have you done?”
“I just want you to be happy. Come with me!”
“Mom, why did you bring me back to the beginning? I'm tired, I'm sick, don't you understand!? If I don't drink, I'll die. I can't walk all the way there again. Please, take me back.”
“Come to me, Aarvo! Beyond this mountain is the relief you were looking for. Come to me!”
At the height of his despair, Aarvo climbed. What was he going to do now? How was he going to reach the North Pole with his mother against him? Why was she hurting him?
Suddenly, he realized he was hearing the thundering booms of the far side again. At each step they became louder, more powerful, until the ground started shaking under those deafening blows. Did he get it all wrong? This wasn't Tromm Kor after all, but a mountain that looked like it?
An absurd hope started burning inside him. Struggling with all his remaining strength, he climbed up to the top of the mountain. There he was greeted by a wall of deafening noise and, mixed in with the din, by a chorus of voices, wails and screams that rose to the sky in rhythm with the thundering booms.
Aarvo stepped forward and caught a glance of a dark mass rising to the sky, then falling back down. A moment later, a gigantic boom snapped in his ears, and the ground under his feet was shaken by an earthquake. He staggered forward and leaned against a boulder. Again, he saw that dark mass—a hand?—rising above him and then descending with such a tremendous force that it shook the earth. He dragged himself forward until he reached the steep edge of the mountain.
At that moment Eera waxed in the sky, became full, and cast a bluish glow that cut through the blanket of darkness, revealing a colossal circular chasm in front of him. He wasn't standing on the top of a mountain, but on the crown of an enormous crater. In the center of this immense space was a gigantic, monstrous being, made only of trunk and arms, who relentlessly and with tremendous violence raised his arm and then lowered it against the plain below, shaking the earth.
****
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