"When We Once Were"~ Aidani Warera Hitokori Iwaba~
All characters are © 2003 M.Prosser in association with FeatherBand Inc. No part of this
document may be reproduced without the author's written permission under penalty of law.
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Chapter 1- "In These Modern Times..."
A young girl with dark purple hair sat on the ground, a digging
instrument in one hand, a paintbrush in the other. She had dug a small trench
in the soft soil, and was muttering to herself in a language that to any human
of our time, would sound like pure gibberish. Beside her sat a satchel and a
pack not quite unlike one you'd see campers or even hikers carrying around
on their backs. Out of the sachel, the end of an old notebook could be seen,
and a pencil was tucked into its spiral binding.
"Nothing..." She complained to no one, and propped her head up with
her hands. "I thought there would be at least a small thing here."
She peered down into the seven foot hole she had been working on
since that morning. Nothing. No dishes, no metalwork, no ruins. Not even an
old looking rock. It was frustrating; She had been in this area for days, and
had found not a thing she was looking for. This would be harder and more
discouraging than she had imagined! 
"Eden, Eden, Eden..." She chided herself under her breath as she
looked at the daylight slipping behind the horizon.
"I guess it's time to camp! Again." Eden tried to sound enthusiastic, to
put some hopefulness into her voice. The girl began to set up a tent
frustratedly. She wouldn't let her mother be right! She would find out what
happened to them. She would be the only one! The first one! And she'd be
famous for the discovery.
After pitching a tent made from a tarp and rope, she rolled out her
blankets, and dug around in her pack for a tinderbox. Well, it wasn't really a
tinderbox. It was actually an old jewelry box she had found in the attic when
she was packing. And with what little money she had, she had bought a
tinder set back in Marais before sneaking onto a ship headed towards
Baickhor. She didn't even know if she was in Baickhor or not, because she
had gotten off the ship at the first port after almost being caught. The
temperature and scenery seemed like what all the books said, so she was
sure she was there. But the cities were no where to be seen. After leaving the
port town, Eden hadn't seen a single person, let alone another town, for
days.
After dragging out the box and staring inside while she recollected,
she suddenly realized that she was out of firewood. She grumbled to herself
again, and began to search around her campsite for brush or sticks. All she
found were a small handful of twigs, and some dead leaves. The plains
weren't the best place to find wood, probably. But it was her own fault. She
would have to search for some sticks before she reached the mountains in
the distance and pack them, as trees were probably scarcer in the mountains
than in a field.
She pulled up grass from around the area where she was going to
make the fire. She made sure it was plenty big enough so that the sparks
didn't spread and catch the place on fire. Then with her trowel, she dug a
shallow hole, and mounded the damp dirt left over in a ring around the pit.
She reached over for her tinderbox, and threw her twigs and leaves in the
hole, making sure to save the pulled green grass to smother the remains of
the fire in the morning. She took out her flint, and scraped them half-
heartedly together. After a couple of tries, a spark hit the dry kindling and a
small dreary fire began.
Eden sighed and stared at the small fire. She pulled a package of food
from her pack; Trail rations, again.
She had known when she left that it would be tough going. But she
really hadn't been prepared to eat jerky, hard bread, and nuts for weeks on
end. But, it was better than being hungry.
After chewing on the dried meat for a minute, she reached into her
sachel again and produced a fat white candle, and a book. She dipped the
wick into the flame, and set it down on the ground beside her in a small
brass holder. She then lay belly down on the ground, and began to read the
book.
It had been a present from her father, right before he left. It was a
book filled with pictures of far off places, and text describing ancient cities
and civilizations. Just as her father had been, Eden was fascinated by
artifacts and ruins, and stories of this bygone era. It was Circa 105,055 AE,
and some of the few artifacts found dated all the way back to 001,994 BE.
Her mind was intrigued by these people that had lived before her own. What
had they eaten? What were their homes like? Their technology? Some
scholars speculated that they had technology far more advanced than they
had ever dreamed of. They had ways of utilizing electricity, and
communication in the blink of an eye. Every night, Eden had dreams of this
world her father had left them all to explore. He had left on one of his
"expeditions" with a bunch of his friends. A year later, her mother had told
her that he was never coming home. But she knew the truth. She had gone to
a newsprint place in their town before she left on the ship, and she had
confirmed that he had died in Canis somewhere, but they had no body to
bring home to bury. So her mother had lied, to make it easier for her and her
sister Eve. But it angered Eden that her mother would lie to her like that, just
to curb her explorative tendencies. She always told Eden that it was just a
"hobby", and that she would "grow out of it". Well, here she was in the
middle of nowhere, eating jerky and proving a point. Well, she wasn't just
proving a point. She was being a pioneer! According to the book her father
had given her, there were people just like her back in ancient times. In a old
main tongue, they were called "archeologists". And the world was arranged
differently, too. They speculated that at one time, Marais was once two
different places! Eden couldn't even fathom that.
She just wished she could find something that would lead her in the
right direction. Anything unusual, anything from the ancient times. But
ultimately, what she wanted was evidence. Eden wanted to know what had
wiped out an entire civilization that was at the height of it's prosperity over
100,000 years ago.
Eden came to groggily and noticed that the sun had well since risen.
She rolled over, half in her bedroll and half outside. There was a mild
breeze, and when she looked down at her feet, she noticed that during the
night, she had stuck her left foot in her makeshift fire pit and had gotten
ashes all over it. She grimaced and began to brush off her foot, wondering if
maybe there was a river or even a pond nearby in which to get fresh water,
and maybe wash up.
After breakfast, she packed up her camp and began to hike north
toward a forest in the distance. Forests usually had rivers. She'd just have to
chance it. Besides, it wasn't like she was going out of her way or anything.
But she did wish she had a map. She was going to run out of food soon, and
running out of food didn't sound like much fun.
After walking a fair distance, Eden found herself surrounded by huge,
tall pine and redwood trees. She stopped, and looked back in the direction
she had come. Trees upon trees obscured her vision. Yep, she was lost. And
there was no sign of water anywhere.
She flopped down and took a minute to catch her breath. Were there
any methods she knew to find water? To find her way out of a forest?
"Bah!" The girl with the dark purple hair said to a sky she could
barely see. Her voice echoed back at her angrily.
"Water...town...I can't seem to find anything." She sighed, after a
while, and stood up.
Birds were chirping in the trees, but Eden couldn't see them. She had
been hiking all day without any sign of water or a way out of the forest she
had wandered into. She was beginning to wonder if she was going in circles.
She kicked angrily at a rock, and sent it flying into some bushes a ways
away. From behind the bushes there was a yelp, and a then a low growl
followed by rustling. Eden stopped dead in her tracks, and unhooked a
medium-sized switchblade from her belt. When it was at full length, it was
the size of a decent dagger. She had picked that up before she left Marais as
well. 
The growl became rougher as well as closer, and she turned toward
the noise. It seemed to be all around her, almost as if closing in. She kept
turning, keeping her head toward the throaty sound.
The birds in the trees were silent now, except for one, which kept up
an ear-piercing warning trill. She realized she had been holding her breath,
and let it hiss out slowly from between her teeth. What the hell was it out
there? Why did this have to happen now, of all times, when she was at the
peak of her weariness for the day?
Suddenly, a grey streak shot from the bushes behind her. Eden
had barely enough time to step out of the way before another wild dog lept
out at her. She took a defensive stance and waved her knife threateningly at
them, but they didn't seem intimidated. Soon, there were five of the grey
mottled dogs milling about her. Growling and snarling, their milky yellow
eyes looking like they hadn't eaten in weeks. She knew that taking her eyes
off them for one second meant death for her. She began to back up, slowly,
then turned and broke into a dead run through the trees.
Branches and dead leaves crackled under her feet as she ran
past the redwoods and pines. She could hear the dogs behind her, snarling
and slathering, breaking a wide path through the humus carpet of the forest.
She ran even harder, realizing that they would eventually overcome her.
Maybe there was someplace to hide. If she got far enough away, she could
always climb a tree really quickly and wait until they left.
Eden turned back to see how far away the dogs were from her.
Then suddenly, the ground was no longer beneath her, and her whole body
pitched forward, her backpack shoving itself roughly against her shoulders
and neck, speeding her fall.
She hit her head hard and rolled end over end down a steep
ravine, burrs lodging themselves under her fingernails as she tried to dazedly
grab onto something to stop herself. She hit a tree or rock , and skewed
sideways, her head aching, and her ears ringing. Then suddenly, everything
was cold and silent, a heavy feeling washing over her. She opened her eyes,
and couldn't see a thing. She went to take a breath and choked as her nasal
passages filled with chilly fluid. Eden kicked out with her feet and found
purchase on a soft floor. She shot like a rocket to the surface of the water,
but then sunk back again under the weight of her now soaked pack. She
kicked out again, and took a quick breath before she was dragged under
again. After doing this a few times, she finally made it to an area in which
she could stand with her head above water. She wiped her eyes, and looked
around, gasping for air.
On the shoreline stood a figure with pale blonde hair and a
bright green scarf. He had a weapon of some sort and was using it to make
loud noises to scare off the wild dogs that had chased her down the ravine.
The dogs looked like they might take him on, but then turned tail and fled
down the shoreline and out of sight. The man watched them go, then looked
back at the water. He was tall and had pale blonde hair which was pulled
back into what looked like a short braid from that distance. He had on a blue
shirt, brown pants, and black boots.
"Thank you!" Eden called out to him. He looked at her, shouldered his
own pack, and began to walk off.
"Hey! I said `Thank you'!" She yelled at him again, a little annoyedly.
Then, it dawned on her that he might not speak her language. She began to
wade to shore, and ran up the sides of the river looking for him, but he had
already gone.
She sighed heavily, and plopped her pack on the sandy dirt. Sitting on
a rock, she began to lay out the contents to dry, and calculated how much
daylight was left. About two hours worth. It would give her flint enough
time to dry out at least.
Eden looked around the area, and noticed that there was a small pit
dug in the ground, with sticks and dried moss in it. Was that guy going to set
up camp here and she had chased him off? That seemed to be the case. That
was too bad. She would have liked company, even if he didn't speak Marai.
She took of her wet jacket and laid it over another rock. She did the
same with her leggings and her shorts. What did it matter? No one would see
her, and she wanted her clothes dry, right? She saw something out of the
corner of her eye, and noticed two large, forked sticks lying a few feet off.
She grabbed them, and placed them firmly in the ground on either side of the
fire pit. She braced them with more small boulders she found along the
shoreline, and strung one of her tent strings across it. There. A small
clothesline! Now her clothes would dry faster, especially once she got a fire
going. 
"At least it isn't cold out here." Eden said to herself as she hung the
clothing from the rocks over the clothesline. Plus, she had found water. She
could refill her dry canteen, and take a bath! The thought of a bath made her
feel a lot better. She could take one while waiting for her clothes to dry out.
Then, her clothes and bedding would be dry when she finished. She leaned
over and felt her tent tarp. That was already almost dry because it was
waterproofed. She was glad her boots were waterproofed too. Otherwise
they'd be ruined!
Eden took out a bottle of shampoo, a bar of soap, and a washcloth
from a small plastic bag. Fortunately, her book had been in the bag with the
toiletries, so it hadn't gotten wet.
She stripped down on the shore and got back into the chilly water. It
was one of those mountain spring streams, so it was frigid, but to someone
who felt as grimy as she did, it didn't matter. Small water skates and
dragonflies milled about while she scrubbed herself with the washcloth,
while the sound of the water flowing relaxed her. It really was quite a nice
campsite. It was too bad she had chased that guy off. But then again, she
would have had to go upstream to bathe if that were the case, and the
combination of sore muscles and the icy water were making her exhausted.
She finished up and strode out of the water, forgetting that her towel was
still wet. So she sat on a rock, grabbed her tarp, and draped it over herself.
While she dried, Eden pondered that strange man who had saved her. He
was blonde, not a hair color native to Marais. So he was from another land.
Well, she thought, she was in a foreign land herself. But people in Baickhor
did have skin and hair like that. And on that note, she regretted even more
not being able to speak to him because if he was a native, he would probably
have been able to point her in the direction of the nearest town.
That night, while the remains of the fire smouldered at her feet, Eden
dreamt of the strange man. Who was he? What was he like? Were their paths
destined to cross in this manner?
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