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A LOVE for the AGES
Notes and Acknowledgements
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This story is the prequel project to a rather ambitious fantasy cycle I've always wanted to write, but probably never will. Because a lot of the basic facts haven't been spelled out, let me explain them: + The world this takes place on is roughly circular, with a single giant lake in the middle, the source of all fresh-water rivers, which flow out into the rest of the world. The land is further striated like a tub of Neapolitan ice cream. The strawberry and chocolate sections on either side are the Summerlands and the Winterlands, where it is always either hot or cold, and no rain falls. The vanilla section in the middle is referred to as the Spring Lands, or the Autumn Lands, or sometimes just the Green Lands. Geographical irregularities have made them the only places where rain falls. They are extremely fertile and the Summers and Winters wage constant war over their ownership. The Spring Land adjacent to Cymerin (towards the "bottom" of the world") are the Moonside Spring Lands, because the moon rises from that side of the sky; likewise, the Sunside Spring Lands are between Rascine and Grunveld (at the "top"). Navigating by map direction is somewhat useless as the Great Lake itself is treated as the world's north pole; everything is south of it. Sunward and Moonward rotation, in combination with latitude, are used to describe location. Here is a crude map: 
CWatson's mouse-drawn MS-PAINT Map + Like most fantasies, the societies in this story are mostly medieval and feudal monarchies, though several variants on the basic monarch exist and there is in fact a republic in the Summerlands. There are seven main nations: Quintaln, Seneca, Rascine, and Emmerech on the Summer side, and Cymerin, Gruenveldt and Malecai on the Winter side, as well as twelve or fifteen smaller satellite nations that derive most of their culture from the large ones (Eretria, for instance, orbits Cymerin). Like most fantasies, gunpowder has not yet been discovered. Technologically and societally the world is poised on the brink of its Renaissance age. + Instead of a common language, each nation has its own dialect, represented by alterations to standard English grammar. Eretrians speak the same English we do, but those of other nations have different habits: grammar, vocabulary, word order, a certain amount of pronunciation. In other words, what seems to be misspellings or bad grammar may be utterly intentional. + There is one primary deity worshipped across all lands: Kyrei, the Goddess of Order, She Who Brings Refuge From The Wild. Her primary opponent is Loduur, the God of Chaos, of recklessness and volatility. + There is magic in this world, derived from the flow of water. Mages call it the Flow and it is a capricious master; if it is not respected, it will destroy you. + Mages--or the Gifted, as they call themselves--are at odds with the giftless. About fifty years ago a band of Gifted malcontents got together and decided that mages were the true first Children of Kyrei, and that it was their job to purify the world of all lesser giftless. They ran amok for several months before being stopped by a coalition of Summer soldiers and mages, but not before managing to do some pretty nasty magics, including putting a (thus far) unbreakable hex on Rascine's farmland, such that any and all who eat of it develop grotesque mutations within a few days. This is why mages are not exactly popular anymore. Before then, however, they lived in harmony with the giftless, and great works were done in that partnership. + At the center of the Great Lake is a giant mountain, the Golden Dome, which is the true source of the world's water. At the top of the mountain is a marble shrine, in which (according to tale and rumor) reside two special swords. One is Hyperion, the Blade of Light; the other is Corona, the Blade of Fiends. Every thousand years or so, some scurrious wag climbs the mountain and takes Coronoa; someone must immediately grab the other, to contest him. This new bearer of Hyperion, this Savior, is now responsible for defeating the person who wields Corona, the Enemy, the Adversary. The last Adversary was a Winter woman named Jocasta Tallandar. The last Savior was a Winter named Coren Agano. This happened approximately a thousand years ago. The world is due for another Savior. But that is a tale for another day. (Yikes, that's a lot of information.) The Eagle-Eye Readers List: "Pandora" with a few pronoun-subject disagreement problems in Part 2; Andrew Williams, catching my mixing-up of private and public names in Part 5; Ian, for a word mix-up that I decided to keep but wouldn't have even known about otherwise; Omniflux and Zap, for pronoun mix-ups I decided NOT to keep; and Tony, Robin Pentecost, Graciela, for various factual errors and communication mistakes. Thank you very much, all of you. Before you clamor for a sequel, let me say this: there is one coming. When it will come, I can't tell you, because I have no idea; the first novel of the four- or five-book cycle will be at least twice as long as this story. But I can tell you where to find it: if all goes to plan, you will be able to pick it up at your local bookstore. |