PART II

TERRA PURE



BOOK 4

THE FORBIDDEN LEGEND




CHAPTER I


NIGHT OF FALLING STARS




	The wind had not moved its breath since late afternoon and when twilight had fallen into 
deep darkness still nothing was stirring, neither one skeletal leaf of the withering tree tufts, nor 
one spike of the bristling cacti heads, or one blade of the heartless fangweed choking the vast 
open plains, as if plant and animal were waiting in suspense and nature was brazing for some 
miraculous phenomenon.  The phenomenon, Conrad knew, for which Assiya had been waiting, 
expecting, hoping for all her long years to occur.  

	But Assiya was now very old, with her origins lost somewhere beyond the barrier time of 
Devolution, almost an ancient relic, who had lived through and survived epochs of violence but 
had kept her memory fresh.  Assiya, who was the only living being near and dear to him; mother, 
nurse, sister, friend and above all his most trusted mentor.  Conrad's face crinkled with deep 
anxiety as he paced the wood-paned floor of their home and haven dug deep under the ground.  
The evening was steadily approaching the hour of midnight and Assiya was still out there under 
a vast sky that was performing, which Conrad knew was true even for tonight since the land had 
not been blessed by cooler overcast weather in months, a soul-smiting spectacle of dancing stars.  

	He resented her iron determination that he stayed indoors and under the ground; he hated 
himself for being so prone to her perplexing variety of changing moods.  He growled and chafed 
with rebellion, that after all he was now fully grown, a young adult.  He regretted for not 
standing more firm and manlike like he should--.  Assiya stole quietly down the narrow wooden 
ladder, the oil lamp steady in her blue-veined hands.  

	"Gather our things tonight," she spoke as she stood straight and still in the centre of their 
den which could by right be called spacious living quarters.  A glow was on her face as if she 
had seen a vision. "We'll leave by dawn tomorrow."

	Conrad gasped in astonishment although he was secretively happy.  Had the ancient 
woman at last been able to perceive in the stars tonight their destiny and come to this, so long 
hoped for, decision?  He gawked at her: "Why?"

	Assiya dropped on her knees on the woollen rug which provided some protection from 
the rocky ground of their burrow-home and spread her thin, long fingers around the glow of the 
stubby stove still flickering with a dwindling wood fire.  

	"Tomorrow it will no longer be safe on the Plains.  In reality, it will be safe nowhere.  
The time has come to hide ourselves no longer in isolation where isolation itself will no longer 
provide us safety but numbers will.  Conrad, we have to become one of the crowd."  

	Conrad's heart was leaping with joy and excitement at the prospect of finally leaving the 
dreariness of the desert weedlands far behind them but this change had come so sudden that he 
longed for more answers.  "Assiya," he said, "what happened outside, what did you see?  What 
made you come to this decision?"

	"The Frame is alive again."

	The Frame?  Conrad was nonplussed for a moment, then he recollected.  The Frame, that 
piece of illicit technology, an opaque glass oblong that Assiya carried all the time like something 
precious, tucked under her armpit.  But what does it mean by its being alive again?  He refrained 
from pestering her with more questions as his instinct told him she wouldn't satisfy his curiosity 
this time, but might at another time.  

	Slowly Assiya rose from her meditative crouch before the fire and untied her long cotton 
coat which swept down from her shoulders to her ankles.  "It has been a long day," she said, her 
voice still low and pensive. "The dust and sand is clinging to me like muck from a polluted sea.  
I need a bath.  Be a good boy and do what I tell you, collect our belongings and take what you 
think is necessary for a long journey."

	She looked jaded from her long watch and he stoked up more warmth into the feeble 
wood fire as Assiya shuffled to one of the passageways that led to a corner kitchen cum 
washroom.  She turned in the doorway.  

	"You have been a good boy, Conrad.  You are like a son to me.  Don't trouble yourself 
with questions tonight, sleep well.  Tomorrow on our journey I will tell you a story."

* * *

	Long before the new day crashed in on the tussock grass roof of their burrow-home with 
a bombardment of merciless glare, Conrad and Assiya had sealed off the gate with sand and grit 
and turned their eyes to the long road that stretched before them.  Even at the time of their 
departure a hot, arid breeze had seeped through the damp air of early dawn and yellow fog 
slowly curdled over the plains as oppressive morning progressed into a more oppressive 
afternoon.  

	Assiya had looked back once more to the covered up entrance of their home of seventeen 
years.  In time it would become like one of the many others scattered around the Hungry Plains, 
neglected, falling into ruin, dug under the ground for safety, an illusion for many that had been 
shattered by the harsh reality of captivity and hard labour, since the day that peace-loving and 
harmless Plains Burrowers could be traded as coveted and lucrative commodities on the 
manpower market. 

	Conrad wore a leather vest, cotton shorts and straw sandals.  He also concealed one 
healthy eye under an eye patch, a precaution from being forcibly pressed into service by roaming 
hirelings looking for able-bodied recruits.  He walked easily with his head in the wind, the huge 
backpack with provisions not bothering his strong shoulders, and he would have whistled a song 
if the surrounding nature had looked different, less menacing.  And he had to take heed of 
Assiya's cautioning that a too cheerful disposition in such cheerlessness would immediately 
mark him out as a good commodity by bounty hunters, even if he sported only one eye.  

	Assiya shuffled at his side, her lean age-beaten body wrapped in her cotton cloak, her 
sack of clothes and other belongings slung tightly over one shoulder and the velvet bag 
containing the Frame over the other.  She had swept the hood of her cloak off her head and the 
stinging Plains wind tugged at the snow-white strings of her still affluent hair.  Sulphurous 
clouds hustled and tumbled from one fallow horizon rim to the next.  

	Conrad slowed down when she hooked a hand around his elbow.  "There is no need to 
make haste," she said, "we have all the time in the world, although maybe the world itself does 
not have much time.  Whoever or whatever passes us by, just keep walking and avoid eye 
contact.  There is no reason to assault an old woman and her half-blind son.  Keep walking and 
listen to my story."  

	And Assiya commenced her narrative.  The haunting, hypnotizing melody of her aged 
voice lulled the sounds of nature, mingling with the wind as it rustled through the tall fangweed 
and blew lingering battle smoke over the Plains to grey ribbons.

* * *

	"ONCE THERE CAME TO EARTH A BREED OF WONDROUS BEINGS WHO 
CALLED THEMSELVES PEREGRINATORS.  Who could recall how they arrived on earth 
one, or two, hundred years ago?  Nobody is able to tell exactly but it is not important.  The only 
thing to remember is that One of Them came at a time when languages and cultures could no 
longer blend together and the garden of harmony became a killing ground of war and disease, 
when even the atmosphere had turned to the colour of blood and whole cities and lands bathed in 
fire and smoke, and all life on earth stood on the verge of annihilation.  

	One woman who had the foresight and wisdom that went far beyond the partiality of her 
people fled from the sea of strife to a high snow mountain and her loud lamentations, so the True 
Legend tells us, were heard and drew to her side a Being of such immaculate beauty that she 
thought she beheld an Angel and fell on her face in the snow.  But the Being gently bade her to 
stand up and when she had summoned the courage to lift up her eyes and look upon him, she saw 
a man, like she was a woman.  The man told her that he was a simple Traveller but she perceived 
the power in his clear and amazing eyes, and falling at his feet once again she implored him to 
save her race and her home world from extinction.  

	"I am but a traveller," the Traveller said, "It is not in my power to render aid."

	"Can you allow a world to suffer and die," the woman asked furiously and she went on in 
a pleading voice: "If you refuse, I will throw myself into the ravine and as my body hits the 
ground so will my race disintegrates, through self-destruction, and my people and I will forever 
float as forgotten plasma through the voids of space!"

	The Traveller saw the tears of anguish and despair rolling down the woman's face and he 
too began to weep for the near death of a world who had looked so beautiful from above and 
whose beauty could not be shared in harmony.  And then he made a promise.  "Snow Woman," 
he said.  "It is not wise to interfere but to see your eyes shining again with joy I will bend the 
rules."

	With this Promise the Travellers became Lords Laris and settled down on earth and ruled 
it.  Were their coming a sort of invasion then they invaded it with wisdom and kindness because 
they brought order, peace and, above all, harmony.  They were symbiotic Beings of Flesh, Blood 
and Light, possessing awesome powers and many are still accusing them of having taken control 
of earth by force, by their superiority of knowledge and by their sheer might.  They established 
Their absolute authority on earth and became the global government, the guiding force of all 
humanity, galactic Peregrinators, who each hosted a life form of Starlight and this Light within 
them, the Core, gave them their power that surpasses everything on Earth and in the whole 
System, and every human, animal and plant bowed to their godlike supremacy.  

	And thus for a long, long time, earth became a paradise.  So long as one does not ask too 
many questions.  But questions were being asked: by what authority had such governing powers 
been vested in the Lords Laris?   Why do they have absolute control?  Why must everyone listen 
to them?  WHO ARE THEY?  

	In the eyes of certain people they were like gods and goddesses:  Lord Sygmon, Lord 
Ryaldin, Lady Alta, to name but a few, but as gradually the smoke of war and ashes of strife 
dissipated and were forgotten, nature recovered and bloomed, people thrived and became bored.  
Discontent started to foment.  It was not enough merely just to prosper and be happy: to be in 
control, to command, to wield power became a festering ambition, like an infectious open sore, 
contaminating everyone that came in contact with it.  The ultimate question why Earth and 
earthlings had to be governed by extra-terrestials became a rallying slogan for the movement of 
the Fraternity of Terra Reform. 

	The Lords Laris ruled with great sagacity and foresight but they were insufferably 
adamant about one subject: their refusal to share, or teach, their remarkable powers with those 
under their control.  Warnings and threats had little effect in subjugating the growing Terra-
Reform movement.  

	The Lords, alas, wise and powerful as they were had their failings too.  A fatal 
disagreement split their ranks.  There were those who thought that they had failed on earth and 
the time had arrived to leave for faraway shores.  And there were those who had taken earthlings 
as their mates.

	Those Lords who had mated with humans above all regarded Earth as their home and 
nothing could persuade them to leave.  Finally the Descent Zenith held a referendum and a vote 
taken that those who wanted to leave were allowed by all means to do as their conscience 
dictated them; the remainder would stay and try to establish a partnership with the Fraternity. 

	As the Lords haggled over their future, and Earth's, disagreement was also rife amongst 
the ranks of the Fraternity.  The pragmatic Reformists chose to open conciliatory negotiations 
with the Lords, while the radical Purists opted for and demanded global rebellion.  The leaders of 
the Purist splinter group, despite their doctrine of returning to the ways of Good Mother Earth, 
secretively wanted more than returning the solar system to the government of Terrans: they 
coveted the Cores of the Lords Laris, the Starlights that only the stellar beings had mastery of.  

	A band of conspirators was gathered together like hungry vultures to discover the 
weaknesses of the Lords who had such great powers at their command but were of flesh and 
blood and vulnerable nonetheless.  The timing could not be better since with the departure of so 
many of their comrades the authority of the Lords was greatly diminished and to negotiate had 
become a means of survival.  

	Thus of the various guardianships of the Lords Laris only four remained, the 
guardianship of Lord Vertgo, Lady Pryaan, Lady Artgan under the leadership of the most 
powerful of the Lords, Lord Filimon Schurell, who was the First Peregrinator and whose wife 
was descended from the Snowflower Woman to whom he had given His Promise.  

	Lord Filimon Schurell had a son, the graceful and talented Trajan Schurell, and it was 
because of this son that the Lord decided to stay on earth.  The Lord considered that floating 
through the vast voids of the universum in exploratory peregrination had lost both appeal and 
meaning.  The multitude purposes of his Essence had steadily dwindled to one only: to remain 
with his wife and see that his son becomes Peregrinator in his own right.  

	Through a series of protracted and strenuous negotiations over a span of many years a 
treaty was signed.  Part of that treaty was paid for in blood because during a peace conference 
Lady Pryaan and several of her Adherents perished under an assassin's grenade attack.  The 
incident threatened to unleash a war of terrifying proportions which was only averted by the 
utmost restraint commanded by the leaders of both parties: Lord Schurell and the Head of the 
Fraternity, whose name is no longer remembered because even before the ink on the treaty was 
dry he was dismissed by his own people as inadequate.  

	A treaty was finally achieved but it was a most fragile agreement.  Mutual distrust and 
suspicion ran deep between the two factions.  Its structure was built upon the fissure of a deep 
chasm, and it swayed and wobbled as the crevasse steadily widened.  An Adherent assaulted by a 
mob in the streets, a youth blasted to brain damage by the followers of Lord Vartgon.  The only 
one who stood firm and held faith was Lord Schurell as he prepared for the Conception of his 
Core by his firstborn son, Trajan.  

	Conrad, never trust those who consider themselves to be perfect and preach the principles 
of absolute purity because they do not understand the virtues of understanding and tolerance.  As 
the Reformist hand of the Fraternity held the pen and signed the treaty, the Purist hand held a 
knife under its cloak.  

	The secret agents of the Purist faction discovered how the essence of the power of light of 
the Lords Laris was bestowed from forebears to their descendants.  If the Ladies and Lords die 
prematurely, their Light Cores die with them but these Cores usually continue to exist for 
countless generations as they are bestowed upon a younger firstborn Peregrinator when the 
Leading Peregrinator is approaching his twilight existence.  So was the case with Lord Schurell 
and his son Trajan was to receive the most mighty Light Core of his time.  

	The Annulus of Conception is a most complex ceremony during which both the recipient 
and bestower had to go through a most stringent and laborious mental and physical process.  It 
was a dangerous process as well since even the slightest disturbance would have catastrophic 
consequences, but the forces that would be bestowed would be one of unimaginable power and 
everlasting glory.  

	And such power and glory the Purists coveted because with such might in their hands 
they would be able to build their New Ruling Authority.  Treachery lurked in every house and 
street corner of Lord Schurell's domain.  Unknown to Lord Schurell and his Adherents, Purist 
agents had infiltrated his palace stronghold of Lumentor.  And when the plotters made their 
strike, they struck with deadly force during the most precarious middle stages of the secret 
Conception Ceremony, when the Core was being transmitted from the Lord's mind and body 
into his son's.  

	That day the earth, its moon and the nearby planets were nearly thrown out of orbit and 
the whole solar system hovered on the verge of demolition.  The legend said that a space hole 
was blasted through the universum.  The foundations of the great continents were shattered and 
they started to drift.  The islands were engulfed by sky-high tidal waves and none of them 
remained.  Seas evaporated into areas of perpetual fog.  

	None of the illustrious family of Lord Schurell who were present during the ceremony 
survived, dear Conrad, Himself, his son who would have become a Peregrinator of a New 
Generation, his Earth-born wife, his daughter and cousin-brother, and all their adherents were 
wiped out, together with every single one of the intruders.  It was the blackest day of all Terran 
history when the New Angels fell into Damnation, when the face of the Earth itself was changed 
utterly and an age began where the values that the Lords tried to breed in became worthless 
beyond nil--Minus Zero. 

	With the centrum of their authority shattered by the conflagration caused by the Core's 
dislocation the rule of the Lords and their treaty with the Earth-born Purists had become a 
mockery and mobs in the streets were baying for their blood.  The remainder of them 
disappeared from the surface of the earth as suddenly and mysteriously as they had appeared.  
Some say that some of them still remained, hiding as mere shadows of a most illustrious Race, 
but the stark truth is, Conrad, that in order to re-establish their authority on a devastated earth, 
the Purists sullied their name and their memory and pushed civilization to the brink of a Minus 
Zero Age Purist Inquisition.  During the course of this century the Fraternity for Terra Reform 
broke in many factions and battled each other and as of today warring regional governments 
ARE STILL DIVIDING THE EARTH.  

* * *

	His eyes were moist when Conrad asked:  "Is it really true that no one has ever heard of 
them again?"

	They had taken a northerly course and were approaching a region of woodland curling in 
a narrow band along the base of a mountain range.  The sun floated like a huge bleeding heart 
along the naked stretch of the western horizon.  Dusk was approaching but the heat over the 
plains pulsed with undiminished ferocity.

	"They have become the Forbidden Legend," Assiya answered, her hard black eyes 
measuring the rugged flanks of the mountains. "But although it is forbidden to speak of them, 
people still whisper their tales around campfires.  They have become immortal in our memories.  
The Purists were able to rid the Earth of them and their Cores, but the greed to possess the 
greatest Light Force lingers on.  The hunt for the Mighty Core of Lord Filimon Schurell still goes 
on!"

	"Was it not obliterated in the conflagration?" Conrad asked puzzled.  

	"Although it may appear so, many don't believe it.  You see, Conrad, it was in the course 
of transition when it was sent crashing through space to Nowhere.  The Core still exists and is 
coming back."

	Conrad was frightened and amazed at the same time.  "It is!"

	Assiya closed her fingers around his arm and the nails dug into his flesh.  "Because the 
Conception was never completed and a Starlight of that kind, beyond the control of a Lord Laris' 
mind and willpower is a most lethal and destructive weapon.  It has to return to its source, to be 
extinguished or otherwise.  The greatest conflict on this world is yet to occur because if the Core 
is returning, so might the Lords Laris!"

	Conrad could hardly control the thumping of his heart and he was not able to explain 
away his mixed feelings of consternation and excitement.  "They are returning!"  

	Assiya turned away quickly and picked a way through the matted undergrowth of the 
thicket.  The slate barrier of the mountains loomed a few feet ahead through a thin row of trees.  

	"Perhaps," she said, "but not, I think, to re-establish power.  They left behind a few of 
their seedlings and it is time to gather together these seedlings, or starlings as I would prefer to 
name them, and lead them to their destiny.  This is the purpose of our journey, Conrad my dear.  
We will rendezvous with the other exiles nearest in our vicinity, the Mountain Clan of the Great 
Divide under the leadership of their Perceptor, the Great Elder.  Although," she muttered 
furiously as she nimbly scaled up a steep slope, "I would not be surprised that old hyena has 
plans of his own."  

	Breathing hard, with his heart in mouth, Conrad closely followed Assiya up a crooked 
path, snaking precariously along the edge of a deep canyon.  By and by a strip of smoky orange 
and yellow was all that he could glimpse of the plains.  He had never been so high up before and 
he gasped against the wind whistling around the crags of the Divide. "Why now?  What has 
happened to cause this urgency, this sudden change?"

	Assiya turned round as she stood on a jutting shelf, her black cloak billowing in the 
breeze like the huge wings of a bat.  She shouted with the wind:  "Because the Core has come 
back!  The falling stars of last night have heralded its return!  Don't think I don't have questions 
of my own.  You see, if my Frame has come alive again, so might also the one that the Great 
Elder has in his possession.  So, do not ask any more questions, boy.  These walls of stone are 
fraught with peril and treachery.  Keep your eyes sharp and your voice low."

	The path seemed to continue climbing towards the summits, then at some point it 
swerved away from the rim of the canyon and descended into a trough between bluffs of grey, 
rough stone, swinging downwards into a wide valley thickly overgrown with cedar trees.  The 
sparkle of flowing water could be seen distantly glinting through the foliage.  They had not 
spoken for at least half an hour and in the silence only the sigh of the night wind could be heard. 

	In a grumbling voice, his teeth faintly chattering in the colder air of the mountains, 
Conrad demanded of Assiya's back as they reached the lip of the wooded valley:  "This story 
you have told me, how come you know it so well, how do you know so much?"  

	She glanced with her sharp eyes at him over her shoulder and said:  "Because, my 
inquisitive boy, my forebears regarded the Lords Laris as their true guardians and have served 
them faithfully.  I have kept faith with my family's loyalty to the Lords by telling the truth.  Now 
that you know my deepest secret it has become yours too, for trust me many have perished for 
not keeping it--"

	Conrad gave out a yell as from the deepening dusk hemming them in from all sides a 
group of men sprang out from the bushes, wielding swords, axes and spears, their faces masked 
by the ugliness of cyborgal headgear.