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Tala Lokni

Silver Lake Abbey

Litla Deirfiúr, aka KOI-172.02

Tala never tired of looking at the sky. The night was late and moving onward. The sun had set behind the mountains and Big Sister was casting her blue-sliver glow across the lake for which the Abbey was named. Her majestic rings soared high into the night sky, lending their own orange tinge to the light. With the fires and lights of the Abbey long since extinguished, he sometimes thought that he could see through the sky and into eternity.

Where he had come from, there was no sky. There were no windows in the underworld of the tower cities, no way to see the sky, and everywhere he would look, he could only see the press of humanity and the everpresent notions of the machinery that kept the cities alive. They told him long ago that the world outside the towers was toxic and dangerous. There were leftovers of the last war, a war that had burned away the atmosphere and sullied the lakes and streams so that every last bit of water and remaining air that was drawn into the tower cities had to be filtered, treated and made safe.

The only way to get away from the crush of people in his former world was when he was working on the machines. He was a very large man, abnormal for those who usually dwelt in the underbelly of the tower, and his skin was dark, the color of the hard rye bread that they served with every meal. Being so large had its advantages, though. He could hold the large tools and make quick work of what would usually take two or three people. Over time, he found himself proficient in servicing the machines, and so the overseers had promoted him again and again, until he could find all the solace that he desired among his beloved machines.

He was even happy with his life until one day, fixing the massive air purifiers, he found himself caught in one of the tunnels when the fans started their work, pulling in the toxic air from the outside. His mask out of reach, he had thought himself finished, but to his shock, the air was clean and pure and smelled of something he had never smelled before. That was when the cracks began appearing in his faith in the overseers and their masters, the upper dwellers. Little by little, he found himself exposing the lies to himself until he was convinced that almost his entire life had been a lie up to that point. That was when he made his escape.

And now, here he stood, on the balcony of a building that, if the stories were true, should not have existed. This abbey on the shores of the Silver Lake should not have been here, and he should be dead. Instead, he had found his way to heaven, and they had seen fit to take him in.

It was not an easy life here, though. In the city, everything had been provided for him. His room and his food were all just a part of living in the underbelly, even if he had to share the room with two other workers. They were rarely there, and for the most part, he had the room to himself. Here, though, they provided him with his very own room, one which never had to be shared and would be kept for him, even when he was sent out into the world. It was a place in which he could keep his possessions, what few he had, and they would remain safe, for that was one of the inviolable rules of the abbey, one's cell is one's sanctuary, and none would dare violate it.

Here, he had found a new calling. He still had machines to work on, the pumps that supplied the abbey with clean water, and the panels that harnessed the power of the sun and even the moon to provide them the power that they needed to run their equipment. There were the boilers that supplied hot water to the showers, a luxury he had never before experienced. But he had also found a talent for understanding and fixing not only machines, but humans as well. The keepers of the abbey had realized it soon after he arrived and part of his due for their generosity was to study this new talent and improve it to become one of their healers of the body.

For that was the mission of the Silver Lake Abbey. They trained healers, of both the body and the mind. He wondered often about the healers of the mind, for he saw them as he walked the grounds and sometimes even spoke to them while engaged in his studies. Many chose to have at least a basic understanding of the body as well as the mind, so on occasion one would come and sit in a class with him. Every one that he met always looked so serene and so satisfied that he eventually asked his teacher about them. What he was told disturbed him enough that he never mentioned it again, and even now did not want to think about it.

But there was something that constantly occupied his mind, and that was the reason that Silver Lake Abbey sent its residents out on missions to the rest of the world. Litla Deirfiúr had a hidden problem. Or at least it was hidden from those like him, the city dwellers. When he lived in the city, he was never able to afford - in either time or money - the viewscreens that carried the entertainment that some of his comrades enjoyed. Day after day, they would speak of the nightly fights and the winners and losers. He never thought much of it at the time, but on his journey to the abbey and was subjected to looks of hatred and fear, and sometimes even violence. Many chose not to react with violence, likely because of his size, but even so, he could not understand the malice that the people of the outer world held for him. It was not until he arrived at the Abbey and was granted his asylum that he found out.

The entertainment of the upper dwellers consisted of collecting outer dwellers and subjecting them to horrible torments, including live fights to the death and other horrific things. Then there were the unspoken things. He had heard the stories when he arrived, the stories of family members collected, missing for exactly one year, and then brought back, none speaking or eating, and barely drinking. Slowly, they starved to death in a constant state of apathy. It was these souls the healers of the abbey were sworn to help.

Still looking at the sky full of stars, he could feel his heart beating slow, but hard against his chest. Tomorrow would be his last day at the Abbey. He was finished with his studies and he had signed his name for the next available mission. Behind him on the bed, his pack was full of the provisions he would need to join three other healers and four guardians as they left the abbey and traveled the countryside in search of these poor souls. It was not something many would volunteer for, he knew. Assisting these victims was against the will of the upper dwellers, and to be found providing aid would lead to being the next collected, and abbey members were never returned. The only reason the abbey remained standing was that it was out of range of the scout ships, and the tower cities had not seen fit to increase their patrols. But tomorrow, he would be descending the mountains to places sure to be in range.

"Tala?" A voice asked from his open door.

He turned slowly, a calm and serene expression on his face, belying the feeling in the pit of his stomach. The figure in the doorway eased it somewhat, though.

"Good evening, Arden," he said to the man at his door.

Arden was close to twelve inches shorter than him, and though he had the build that was common among the farmers, he was still smaller than Tala overall. Arden, however, had the sun-browned skin and good nature of a man who had lived his life in the outdoors, and there was always a glow about him beneath his long brown hair. He was one of the healers of the mind, and it was plain to see even without knowing that, there was something special about him. The way that he looked at everyone was something that Tala had never seen before. It was as if there could be no anger or disturbance behind his calm exterior.

"Nervous about tomorrow?" Arden asked, letting himself in to the small room.

"No," Tala said, shaking his head. "The journey here was more daunting. I am concerned."

"Concerned? About what?"

"How did you know you would be a proficient healer, Arden?" Tala asked, moving to the bed to sit down. The knotted ropes beneath the mattress creaked and strained, but they held as they always did.

"It's something that I always wanted to be," Arden answered. "The healers came through our village when I was growing up, and I saw what they did for the ones with cage sickness. They couldn't heal them all the way of course. That's something that we still don't know how to do, but they survived and even had happy lives."

Arden shrugged and looked out the far door to the sky above.

"We never know whether we'll be what we think we are, Tala. Not until we actually get to go out there and use what they've taught us."

"It is a burden," Tala said with a sigh. "Much is expected, and I know not if I will be equal to the task."

"I've seen you work, Tala," Arden said with a smile as he laid his arm across his friend's shoulders. "You're one of the best in the Abbey. Even Mother Superior said that she's never seen anyone with the aptitude you have. Mark my words, two missions at the most and they're going to train you to be a physician."

Tala turned to face Arden, his chest swelling. He felt the skin on his cheeks heating at the same time, but he paid it no mind.

"She told you this?"

"She did. You have a gift. You understand machines and people, and between both of them, somehow you can always fix things."

Tala nodded and returned his gaze to the sky.

"I am glad to be traveling with you, Arden. I would wish for no better companion."

"Hey, don't forget our guardians. My sister's coming, so you might just find there's someone more interesting than me."

"Brother Joseph has assigned Aaliyah to be my guardian. She is proficient," Tala said as he started packing the last few things into his pack. They were to leave quite early in the morning, and he wanted to have time to get breakfast at the kitchen before they left. He didn't mind the field rations that the Abbey provided, but starting the journey with a tankard of the Abbey's mead would be the best way he could think of to mark the occasion.

"High praise coming from you," Arden scoffed. "One of these days, I'm going to talk you into toning down your exaggerations, Tala."

Tala smiled at Arden and shrugged.

"Don't mind me, Tala," Arden said, standing finally. "Just be ready to go in the morning, and don't be slowing the rest of us up because you're low on sleep."

"You are awake as well, Arden," Tala said simply, the skin at the corners of his eyes wrinkling with his smile.

"Yeah, I should be talking, right?" Arden laughed and patted Tala on the shoulder before he turned around, still chuckling. "I guess you're not the only one who's worried he might not be up to the challenge."

Arden started walking to the door and Tala stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

"I do not know much of your style of healing, Arden, but whatever you do, I can tell that it makes you who you are. You will be proficient as well, I am certain of it."

"Thanks Tala," Arden said quietly. "Good night."

He patted Tala's hand and then turned to the door, closing it softly behind him as he left.

When he was gone, Tala pulled the pack off the bed and set it aside by the door, ensuring the buckles were fastened and the straps were tied and tucked. He looked around the room again, noting the few things that he was leaving. He had little, and life at the Abbey was not conducive to acquiring anything of value. He was happy here and as he settled down in the bed, pulling the thick blanket over him, he looked out at Big Sister again. She had been his constant companion, looking over him every night since he left the city, and no matter where he went, she would be there to watch over him still. The thought stilled the tightness in his chest and he finally closed his eyes.

"Tomorrow's trials shall only make you stronger," he said to himself before sleep overtook him. His snores were often legendary in the short time he'd lived in the Abbey, but tonight, all was quiet and restful.