Chương 40: The Way to Walk

"Literally," Cian said.

"Just walk from here to the end of Cianán's Walk and leave. You're unable to leave the way you came in - the weight of my fórsa creates a sort of impenetrable riptide - but there is no barrier or anything to stop you from just traveling the length of the island and departing."

"I'm sure there's no horrifying catch," Miriam said dryly.

"Absolutely horrifying, yes." Cian floated back down a little, crossing his legs in front of him.

"Your fórsa bends my pseudo-reality towards you. The more deeply you walk, the more it gets bent. The challenges you faced to get here from the beach were the lightest they will be - more and more powerful creatures and other… things, are well… sort of spontaneously generated as you go. Even I don't know what they will be until it happens.

"The key is speed. The Walk's autonomic defenses - my immune system, I suppose - take time to learn you. The more time you spend outside of the bald spots, the more the Walk changes its response - proportionate to how far into the Walk you go. Here, at Láthair Maol, you will tend to face challenges more or less at your level. At Domhain, the second bald spot, they will be one Ring higher. At Scior - two Rings."

"Why not just blitz through now?" Róise asked.

"Train at Scior. Then the Walk will know me at Third, so at the end I only have to evade Fifth Ring challenges?"

"You could try that if you want," Cian said.

"I've had people do it. No one who has attempted that has succeeded. The thing is, because the Walk reacts to you so lightly at Láthair Maol, you can actually train out in the jungle, with real threats and enemies. You can get fórsa-dense at Scior the same as here, but if you set one foot outside the bald spot every enemy will be able to crush you. You might be stronger than you were - but not likely strong enough to go toe to toe with all the monsters at the end of the Walk.

Especially if you have only been weaving fórsa instead of perfecting techniques." Róise grunted, but didn't argue the point.

"So - speed. You train here at Láthair Maol until you're at least one or two Rings up. You get to Domhain as fast as you can. You don't stop. You sprint through to Scior. Then you take your chances at making it through." Cian made a flourish with his hands.

"And that's the whole story of how you get out of here."

"Why limit ourselves?" Sol asked.

"Why not train here until we are as powerful as possible, then make our move?" Cian winced.

"Ah. Yeah, that's a good catch. You can't. Or rather… I won't let you." All eyes focused on the boy.

"Yeah. Yeah," he said, sighing deeply.

"I had someone try this once. Normally, it's not really likely to happen - getting to the level of the inner rings isn't just weaving dense fórsa over and over. The real inner Rings are a completely different animal. But somehow this woman managed it. The problem was that it's too much for this sort of fake reality I'm made of to handle. The moment she stepped outside the blind spot, reality started to tear."

"So what did you do to her?" Maitiú said, his eyes dark. Cian met his glare without flinching.

"I killed her. She refused to stay in Láthair Maol - she had all this power, and now she was desperate to get to the Inner Rings. But if I had let her, she would have destroyed the entirety of the Walk just by moving through it. Just like my… King Cianán did."

"Maybe that would have been better," Maithiu said, spitting roughly to the side.

"We wouldn't be stuck here if she had."

"I have the right to live," Cian said defiantly.

"Believe me, I got through any existential dread I was going to face about the peculiarities of my life in the first thousand years or so. I want to help the people who end up on my shores, but I won't die to do so. Nor will I allow one person's ambition to threaten the lives of the seven hundred souls who call me home."

"So you're that strong?" Cormac asked, flicking his gaze back over at Róise.

"Strong enough to kill someone who themselves had the power to rip your reality apart?" This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version. Cian only nodded.

"So I avoid the problem. I will help you improve. I will help you escape. But I won't let you hoard power in such a way that could harm me or my people."

"Seven hundred people," Miriam said in awe.

"That many people have gotten caught here?"

"Oh, over the years it's been thousands and thousands. But most of those who live here now are descendants of the visitors who got stuck here and chose to stay - or were unable to escape." Cian brightened.

"Would you like to meet some of them? They're waiting for you. We always prepare a welcome feast for new arrivals. I just wanted to get the basics out of the way first - people usually get so hung up on those details that they can't enjoy themselves." Róise looked like she had more to say, but Cormac instantly bellowed "A feast? Of course! We can't keep our hosts waiting! What kind of guests would we be?"

Miriam could see a subtle push and pull of emotions between Cormac and Róise that was the closest she'd ever seen them to actually disagreeing. Something about actually getting to Cianán's Walk had triggered an amount of aggression in Róise that Miriam couldn't understand. It seemed that Cormac did, though, and was actively trying to steer her into calmer waters.

Cian asked Maitiú to douse the fire and then led them around to the other side of the tall building, where they could finally see the village of Láthair Maol. From where they had approached the bald spot, the tall tower had hidden the view of the village from them. Miriam wondered if that was intentional; Cian seemed very protective of his people. It might have been that he wanted to make sure no new arrivals would attempt to harm them before letting them into the village proper.

But now as they rounded the corner the whole of the village square unfolded before them. It was a squat huddle of buildings, made of colorful wood. Sharp, angular roofs were broken only by stone chimneys, and tiled in some sort of ceramic. Tidy windows seemed to hold no glass, but were still ringed with equally colorful shutters. Each building was nestled close together around an open square floored in cobblestone. The center of the square was bisected by a clear, gentle river.

Over the river stretched the lazy slope of a stone bridge, just wide enough for a single wagon. Crawling over every wall and nestled into the gaps between every building were bright green flower bushes, sporting every shade she could think of in brilliant blossoms. The square was filled with people.

"Welcome!" The townspeople cried all at once and threw bouquets of flowers into the air. At the same time a small band struck up a lively tune; lute, fiddle, bodhrán and even a set of uilleann pipes playing a merry reel. The five strangers were set upon instantly by waves of townsfolk, shouting welcomes and pushing drinks into their hands. Miriam could see all kinds - Bodacs like Cormac, Selkies like Eoin, even a couple of pixies like Róise - not to mention a half dozen other types of Sidhe she didn't know yet.

She saw no Wisps that she could tell, though. And no other dryads. A slim woman with ghostly-pale skin whose dark hair floated behind her as if she were submerged in water handed Miriam a handmade tankard.

"Welcome to the Walk! We've never had a dryad here before! At least not in all my years. I'm Luíseach."

"Miriam." She took a sip.

"Is that… brandy?"

"Oh, you've had it before?" Luíseach raised her own tankard.

"We had a visitor from well on the other side of the First Ring that showed us how to make it. It's been all the rage here since."

"You all seem so welcoming of visitors," Miriam said carefully.

"I would have thought a community like yours - so isolated - would be more fearful of new elements coming in." Luíseach snorted.

"Nah. Cian won't let anything happen to us. Besides, we look forward to new people visiting. We get to hear more about other parts of the Tír. Those of us who started out as visitors always ask about news from home. And of course, there's the meat." Mirim's mouth dropped in horror.

"The… meat?"

"Oh! Ha, no, no! I didn't mean you lot!" Luíseach slapped her palm to her forehead.

"You see, if visitors go out into the jungle, they get beset by all manner of beasties. It's because of the density of fórsa you've got and the fact that you're foreigners to this bit of reality."

"Yes, Cian explained some of that."

"Well, those of us born here can just walk out to Scior and back and never hear a peep from a single animal or monster." Luíseach shrugged.

"I guess the stuff we're made of is the same as what the Walk is made of, so it's not disturbed by us. Don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining about being able to walk free from the beasts, but we do love some roast monster when we can get it!"

"So… you'd like us to bring back monster carcasses?" Miriam laughed.

"I suppose that's an even trade. Although… you probably won't want any I kill."

"Ooh, got one of them nasty Natures, huh?" Luíseach wrinkled her nose.

"Well, that's all right. Group as big as yours, I'm sure they'll make up the difference. Even some Thirds! I have to tell you, it's been a while since I had some roast Third Ring meat!" Miriam smiled.

"It's nice here, Luíseach. Very cozy, protected. Is that why you don't leave?"

"Ehhh," Luíseach said, taking another swig and clapping her hand on Miriam's shoulder.

"There's a few of us who'd love to see the world, my dear. But that's the sad truth. We can't. We try to take one step out into the real world and we fade like sugar in water. Don't stop us from wishing it were different, though." Her gaze grew distant.

"There a mighty few of us who would trade any amount of safety for that."