Late in the morning on Alptraum's birthday, he is paid a visit by Yodhsunala Mariamara, and he receives her outside the Memorial Garden, where he perches upon one of a flight of steps that symbolically rises to the Heavens – though it actually stops in mid-air, a staircase leading nowhere to the faithless eye.
"Twenty-three years," the elder Yodhsunala says, the black fur beneath her eyes crinkling with a faint smile, as she walks over to the Sylvanian.
Alptraum smiles. "Hello, Mariamara. I'm glad you were willing to come out here on my birthday. I know Rikat probably celebrates his 'birthday' at this time, and you getting away to come here may not have been easy."
A faint shrug from Mariamara is all Alptraum gets in response, but she does not deny the allegation either.
Alptraum adds with an embarassed grin, "I know it's probably a bit too sentimental, but I really wanted to see you today – being my birthday and all and that it's been near twenty-three years since we've had the chance. And, well, things of late have made me want to ask you a few more things, if that'sall right? If it's a bother, no problem."
"It is certainly no bother," Mariamara says. "After all this time, you can hardly be blamed for wanting answers."
"What was the Srinala's pregnancy like?" Alptraum begins, crouching on the step that serves as his perch. "Was it quicker than a normal Eeee pregnancy … and is that why they didn't perhaps kill the Srinala at the time? Or is it forbidden to harm the Srinala, regardless?"
"Ah," Mariamara starts, sighing, and her discomfort shows clearly. "There are many laws amongst the Yodhsunala … but many of them are simply never expected to be violated, and therefore the punishments are not always clear. But the truth of the matter is that I went to great pains to conceal the Srinala's pregnancy for as long as I could. I was responsible for maintaining the rituals for sustaining her life, and for keeping her tended to, and also attending her when pilgrims would come to try to speak through her with the dead. I was young, and I was frightened, and I was uncertain of what to do.
"When enough time had passed that it was impossible to conceal her condition, I made excuses and turned away petitioners from seeing her. Eventually, this came to the attention of my superiors, and it was impossible to hide the truth any longer. I told them that it was a miracle – that no man had been with the Srinala, for, indeed, that would be impossible regardless.
"By then, it was nearing time, and the Yodhsunala were uncertain as to the proper way to deal with this. Before they were certain what fate should befall the Srinala – and me – the time came for your birth."
"If you where you there at the time, what was my birth like? Did it seempretty much normal, aside from the fact my mother was a Srinala?" Alptraum asks.
"Normal? I shall not go into the delicate matters of giving birth – and I myself cannot claim personal experience – but the Srinala was without mind, and therefore of no help through the process. It required considerable use of rituals and medicine … and ultimately the Srinala's belly had to be opened up to bring you into the world. If not for the miracles of Sunala, neither mother nor child would have survived the ordeal," Mariamara says, a grim expression on her face as she gazes off, reliving the events. "If I had kept it a secret to the end, I could not have delivered you on my own, as much as I had hoped to."
"Were people surprised at my appearance?" Alptraum asks, trying to imagine the scene. "What did people think of the silver eyes? Have any silver-eyed Eeee been born before that you know of?" Alptraum inquires, shifting his weight a bitto one leg as he crouches again.
Mariamara lets out a small chuckle. "They were hardly concerned with the way you looked, really. You were in the image of your mother, that is certain enough. To be sure, the Yodh were watching to see if you might be born with gray fur or a red mane, or some other clue that might help them identify the father that they supposed was responsible … but there was no such clue. You were in every way your mother's son … that is … every way except one that need not be mentioned." At this, her smile fades, and she sucks in her breath.
Alptraum nods, not needing to mention his own particular "peculiarity," and changes from one touchy subject to another. "Had we spent much time together before you… " Alptraum pauses to try to think of a way to put it delicately. "… before you went to join Sunala? Was I there when you fell? I really need to know if I was. It could be important." He then swallows and takes a breath.
Mariamara breaks out of her reverie, looking at Alptraum directly. "Yes, you were. I had no real choice in the matter, save that I go to Sunala on my own, or be sent there by my sisters for the transgression they insisted that I had let happen to the Srinala under my care. I told them that you were miraculously born. They reasoned that if this was indeed of Sunala, then it was only fair that Sunala judge me … and that they wait until I had gone on, before tossing you over as well. Praise the Lady, they were not so eager as to commit you to the Sea of Souls before they checked on me – and they found that I was alive. I was not very pretty, mind you … but I lived."
"Have you heard about what happened yesterday?" Alptraum then asks hesitantly.
"Yesterday?" Mariamara frowns. "Of what do you speak?"
"Can we talk someplace more private?" Alptraum requests, glancing around nervously.
Mariamara nods, and follows, as Alptraum leads them to the catacombes, and a shrine concealed within.
"Now, you can't tell anyone I told you about this. Officially, I wasn'tthere. In reality, I was. I tried to save Acolyte Zana when she threwherself from the tower. I – " Alptraum looks intently athis old caretaker. "I wasn't able to catch her. I just wasn't fastenough. In fact, I barely made it out of my dive in time, and landedroughly on a decayed bridge."
Mariamara just nods, her face possessed by a look of incredulity.
"I lay there, watching, pleading … 'No.' As I lay there, time seemed to suspend around me. The world seemed to stop. Then, in my mind, I heard a voice. I don't know if it was my own dark thoughts, Sunala, or what it was. I heard, 'You don't even know her name. She's just an acolyte. What is it to you? She's a fool. She killed herself.' And I remember clearly my answer, 'She's a child. She's family. She's a life. All life matters. She deserved a chance to live. She did no wrong.' The voice I heard earlier replied to me, 'So be it.'" Alptraum pauses to swallow, his silver eyes closing for a bit.
"Mariamara – Zana lived," he says at last. "I think she lived because I wanted her to live. I think I chose her to live. You surviving twenty three years ago – I think it was me who kept you alive. The one I caught above the Sea of Souls, the same thing. I remember telling her to hold on, that she would make it, as I carried her to find help. I could have dismissed two odd events like this happening around me – but three?"
There is a long silence – and Mariamara finally breaks it as she stands up from beside the fire pit, and smooths out her robes. "I do not know what to tell you, Alptraum," she says. "I require time … and meditation." She turns to go.
"But – " Alptraum starts, rising and reaching after her.
"No," Mariamara says. "I … There is something I must tell you … but not now. Not on your birthday. You are a strong-willed young man, and I know that you will not settle for having unanswered questions, but I am an old woman, and I have not tended to the events surrounding your birth for nearly twenty-three years. I need a time to arrange my thoughts. I will return. But not another word of this – to anyone. Not until I return."
Nothing Alptraum can say changes her commitment. At last, Mariamara leaves, and Alptraum is left wondering just what this means.
The rest of Alptraum's birthday is a solemn, lonely affair. He visits the Monument by the Wound. There, he sees the marvelous and intricate detail worked into a model of the missing portion of the city, enclosed within a great glass sphere. It perches on a solid tower at the edge of the Wound – one that shows no danger of collapsing anytime soon, yet affords a humbling view of the sheer breadth and depth of the area of destruction.
At the base of the sphere, all around, there are offerings for the dead, most of them miniaturized just like the model of the city, as if the spirits of the dead might be living on their lives within the model. There are tiny little string-tied parcels of cloth cut in shapes to suggest Babelite-style robes and outer cloaks to bundle against the cold, tiny morsels of food, even miniature scrolls and books and thimble-sized inkwells and little pinfeather quills.
Alptraum runs into Lord Cenesta again there, and though he learns that Lady Aryadne is visiting the monument, he never sees her. Somehow, they start to talk about life, about Babel, and Alptraum gets on the subject of his desire to find some honest work rather than just living off the generosity of the Yodhsunala. (And at the mention of "generosity" and "Yodhsunala" in the same sentence, Lord Cenesta looks as if he desperately wants to laugh, but conceals it to his credit – especially with so many Yodh around keeping solemn guard over the offerings.)
Lord Cenesta talks about his business, and how actually there's a lot more need for labor. The buildings still standing at the edges of the Wound need to be reinforced, and even buildings elsewhere in Babel are in desperate need of work – What with the falling out of the College Mages in the eyes of Babelite landowners, many landlords have refused to hire Earth Mages to recharge the spells needed to keep Babel's great towers standing in defiance of gravity and the weathering of the ages.
The faithful have voiced their belief that the Priestesses of Zakaro will be sufficient to keep the towers standing … but time and again, towers under the Yodhzakaros' care collapse. (Time and again, it is excused away that the landlord or those dwelling in the tower did not have sufficient faith, or that some sort of sabotage was wrought. Never is it openly said that the Yodhzakaro might not be up to the task!)
However, Alptraum confesses to not having any training in carpentry or masonry, and that his only real credit is that he is stronger than the average Eeee, and thus could haul materials up where a Fnerf or Savanite could not easily reach.
This still isn't enough to grant Alptraum a job right away … but Lord Cenesta offers Alptraum an alternative: there is a volunteer project going on, on Mount Dronnel, for which many laborers are needed, to set the stage for some great play and party to be held over the New Year's. There is no pay, but Alptraum might be able to earn himself a good word of recommendation if he can show himself to be capable. "One who can first be trusted with snow," Cenesta quips, "may then be trusted with clay."
The next day, Alptraum learns that a child is in charge of events on Mount Dronnel – a young Eeee girl by the name of Dinahzadze, who can tell a whole story in the space of time it would take Alptraum to introduce himself properly. She flits about with unbound energy, and somehow has the charisma to direct a small army of adults and children to the curious task of building a stage for a play in the shape of an airship – fashioned from snow – atop Mount Dronnel.
There are a great many tasks that do not require skilled labor, and Alptraum finds that as soon as he voices his willingness to help, he's swept up into duties that keep him occupied for as long as he's around. (He's offered free food and drink, and manages to get by only accepting the drink without any suspicion, as the free food is scarce enough – and the workers hungry enough – that it hardly lasts long anyway.)
The crowd is much different than the solemn and somber Yodhsunala at the temple. Occasionally, there are snowball fights, sometimes impromptu rehearsals of the play, and various distractions that – while making the time enjoyable – call into question whether all of this will be ready by the holiday. But work presses on nonetheless, and it seems that each day there are more there to help out. (Dinahzadze seems gifted with the ability to remember everyone's name … or at least to remember the nicknames she has assigned to everyone. "Alptraum" becomes "Traumy" in Dinahzadze-ese.)
Alptraum manages to run errands here and there in the intervening time. He seeks out the docks, and in several places leaves a message for a Captain Renfrew to please come seem him at Mount Sunala, should he arrive … with a matter about a ghost and Cargo Hold Number Five. The dockmasters give him weird looks, but the content of his message, the reference to Mount Sunala and a good look at his appearance seems to convince them of the seriousness of the matter.
His attempts to ask around about Autumn-Storm prove fruitless – Frankly, Alptraum just doesn't even know where to start.
When Alptraum visits the Mages' Guild to ask after Ariel, he finds that the place shows signs of repelling several assaults, and he's not let in until he's able to clarify that, no, he's not a sorcerer. Alas, Ariel is not to be found. A receptionist indicates that Ariel's forwarding address was last given care of the Guild Hall in Abu Dhabi.
Perhaps the strangest result of any errand Alptraum tries to run, however, is when he at last deems that things have cooled down enough for him to venture into the "pit" where Zana plunged toward certain doom. It takes him some time to search about for the landing and the statue that stood upon it, until he finally realizes that it is no longer there.
He finds what's left of the platform it stood on, jutting out into space, but when he goes down to examine any rubble underneath it, there's no hint of a statue amidst the ruin. It would be far beyond him to simply go digging around in it, and even though he – as an Eeee – can find his way around by echolocating, it would make excavation even that more difficult without light … and carrying a light source down here for digging around just might attract unwanted attention.
Still, there are locals to ask about the spot. Alptraum finds out that not all that long before his birthday, many of the locals had heard a rumble, signifying something collapsing at one of the lower levels … and they most assuredly heard another rumble a day or two (the accounts vary slightly) after Alptraum's birthday. They don't seem especially surprised, as such things happen "all the time these days," though such confessions are accompanied by voiced worries that some day it might be something big that collapses.
When Alptraum goes to Asterezadze to ask for her opinions on just what might have happened to Zana … Asterezadze sternly "reminds" him that nothing happened … nothing at all.
