The Second Archon War: Interlude Hopes and Dreams

Interlude: Hopes and Dreams

“Come on! It’s not much further!” Omar called, running across the gravelly soil. 

Behind him, Rana and Salim hurried as well. To the South, the desert stretched away from the rocky hills towards the Iraqi border. Here in the far east of Syria, the government's presence was spotty at the best of times, and people were left to eke out a living on their own. Children of age 8 and 9 didn’t attend school; they were expected to work the farms and herds. There was barely enough rain in the hills for hardy crops like barley to grow, and some fodder for goats, but life was hard. That didn’t stop children from finding adventure, however. 

“But we’re not supposed to go into the desert, there’s hyenas!” Salim panted, sounding concerned even as he ran to keep up with the other two. All three children were dressed in faded clothing that had once been colorful, but had been patched and mended, and passed down from elder siblings. There was little money or materials to go around, and new clothes were a luxury. Even their shoes were ratty and flapped as they ran. 

“It’s fine, I’m telling you, you’ve got to see this!” Omar called over his shoulder. “Now hurry!” 

Rana pulled ahead of the boys, her longer legs letting her get some distance. She was a year older than her friends, and laughed as she pounded across the dry soil. “Come on, Salim! I heard about it from Amina and Wafa! It’s true! They’re here!” 

Omar felt slightly offended that someone else had found his secret, but he was determined to be the first one there. They ran for the outcropping of rocks a few hundred meters away, then stopped, panting when they arrived in the shade. The sun was just up over the horizon, so it wasn’t too hot yet, but soon the desert sands would be baking with heat. 

“It’s back here,” Omar said, forcing his way forward past a few boulders. Before long, the air grew cooler, and the dry sands were replaced by greenery. 

“How is anything growing here?” Salim said, squatting by a growing prickly green plant that was sprouting red fruits. “Where’s the water coming from?”

“Aranara are singing the water up! There is water in the ground, very deep. But Aranara know songs to bring water up, to make the Valuka bloom!”

Salim let out a cry of surprise and went sprawling on his back, looking up in shock at the odd little fairy perched atop a rock above the children. Rana let out a squeal of delight and pointed. “It’s a djinn! They’re real!” 

“I told you they were,” Salim huffed, then waved up at the fairy. “Peace be upon you, Arashani! I brought my friends, like I said I would!” 

With a whirr, the flower atop Arashani’s head spun to life, and the arana floated up, then down to the children before alighting on the ground. “Welcome, small nara, to Arashani’s Valuka-Vana. I have been sent by Sarva-Nara to grow this Valuka-Vana. Arashani is having treats for small nara. Here! Arashani grows sweet Henna Berry.”

The little fairy plunked one of the red fruits, and handed it to the still stunned Salim. He took it, examined it, then looked up, a concerned expression on his face. “We’re not supposed to eat things we just find…”

“We didn’t just find it, silly. The djinn gave it to us! She is a friend of Nahida Saeed! So she is a good djinn,” Rana huffed, putting her hands on her hips.

“I tried one yesterday, it’s good!” Omar agreed, even as Arashani toddled off to pick more berries. 

Salim took a bite, then grinned, and hastily devoured the rest. 

“Come on! There’s a pool,” Salim said, and the three children followed the arana deeper into a wondrous, blooming oasis. Where previously there had been nothing but bare sand and rock, now there was a deep, wide pool in the shadows of the rocks, green grass, and rapidly growing trees. The children splashed and played for a bit, eating the berries that Arashani told them were safe to eat. 

“Arashani is needing small nara’s help. There are songs to sing, and we must grow the Valuka-Vana, until it covers all the sands. Sarva Nara has spoken to the land, and it remembers when there was not being so much Valuka, and more Vana. So, the Aranara will make Valuka-Vana.”

“Desert gardens?” Omar asked. “I heard there were forests here, once, a long time ago. In the time of Moses and Ishmael.”

“Arashani does not know those names, but yes, long ago, there was Vana. The Vana must return so that Nara can have peace. Now, will you help Arashani sing the songs?”

The children readily agreed, and joined hands with Arashani. They sang several songs in the Aranara language, which caused the trees to rapidly grow taller, new plants to sprout and bloom, and their favorite, more delicious fruits to grow. 

They spent so long singing, they completely lost track of time, and the sun began to beat down on them overhead. There was plenty of cool water to drink though, and the new trees provided cool shade, so they didn’t mind. 

“Omar! Salim! Rana!” a voice called, and all three children froze.

“Big Nara come!” Arashani gasped. “Arashani must return to the Svapna. Goodbye, little nara. Arashani will see you again.”

With that, the djinn vanished into the trunk of a tree, just as Omar’s father Adanan emerged, his rifle slung over his back, dressed in desert robes and dirty jeans. 

“Dad!” Omar cried, leaping across the muddy ground, arms spread wide. 

Seeing the children, Adanan’s expression was flooded with relief, and he knelt down to scoop up his son. “Where have you been? We have been so worried about you! You just vanished! But…what is this place?”

“It’s the Valuka-Vana, planted by the Djinn! Nahida Saeed has sent them to bless us!” Omar said excitedly, gesturing around to the water and the growing trees and plants. 

“But this…this is impossible,” Adanan whispered, looking around in awe. “I have been here before. It was nothing but rocks and sand…”

“It was Arashani the Djinn. We sang, and helped her grow the garden,” Rana explained, coming over with her skirt full of Henna Berries. She held one out to Adanan, who took it and examined it curiously. 

“It’s good, dad, try one!” Omar encouraged. 

“I am not sure…” Adanan said, frowning at the red fruit. “I have not seen the like before…we should not just eat it.”

“Well, we already ate three each. They’re good! They’re from the Hopebringer. How could they be bad?” Salim said.

Adanan took a small nibble, and a grin spread over his weathered face. “Why, it is nectar!” He soon had devoured it all, then licked his fingers. 

“Well, we should get you children back,” Adanan said. “You are not too far, but do not run off like this again. It’s not safe to come out into the desert. Their could be bandits, or hyenas.”

“The Djinn will protect us,” Salim said confidently, and his friends nodded. 

“Hmm. Perhaps,” Adanan said, though he didn’t look convinced. He escorted the children back to their houses in the small village of Tell Amra. The rest of their families were incredulous of the news of a djinn and a magical oasis, but Adanan vouched for them, offering the berries as proof. 

“It is truth, and I can find no explanation for it. Perhaps Nahida Saeed did send a righteous djinn to plant a garden here,” he said with a shrug. 

“But, to Tell Amra? But why? She is in Iraq; they are no friend to Syria,” Rami, Rana’s father said. 

“She is the Hopebringer. She is friend to all mankind. She saved my crops last year,” Old Uncle Bassam said, shaking his bald and sun spotted head. “I told you all then: She visited in the night, and where there was nothing but frost and death, my barley recovered, and we did not starve that year. Indeed, the crop was better than ever.”

“The djinn taught us a song too! To help the Henna berries grow,” Rana volunteered. Everyone was skeptical of it, until they found a patch of decent soil, and planted one of the berries. They splashed a little water on the dry ground, then joined hands, and the three children sang. 

The adults were shocked and amazed when not long after, a small shoot began to grow. They sang on for several minutes, until a plant had grown and buds and formed. At that point, all three children were too tired to continue, feeling as though they’d run a great distance. They were taken off to nap, while the adults gathered around the plant. 

“It is witchcraft!” one man said, spitting on the cactus-like plant. 

“It is a miracle taught to us by a Djinn,” Adanan countered. “You know how hard it is to grow anything here! How could this be the work of the devil? It is a blessing from Allah!” 

“It is another gift from Nahida Saeed,” Old Bassam said, leaning on his staff and nodding. “We must learn this song. The children will have to teach us. If we can sing up crops…we will not need to go hungry again.”

“But…it’s sorcery! Magic!” the same skeptic said. 

“Ask the Imam; he would know,” one suggested. 

“No! No. We will grow these berries, and have the children learn new songs from the Djinn,” Adanan said firmly. “The Imam still thinks the Hopebringer is a devil. Well, I say this: This plant is hope. This plant means that the desert can bloom. That our people will no longer battle hot sun and scorching sand to eke out a living. We will learn these songs, and we will grow our own gardens.”

Amina and Wafa, two young girls from another family, approached with their mother. “They know another song!” 

The two girls looked nervous as the adults crowded around. “You know a song? Tell us!” 

“Um, we don’t know how to grow plants,” Amina said, and Wafa nodded, even as the adults looked disappointed. 

“We helped make the pool. Arashani taught us how to sing up the water,” Wafa explained. 

The looks of shock and amazement quickly turned to pleas for the children to teach everyone how to sing up the water. 

The two girls found a shallow depression near a large rock, and placed their hands on the rock. Together, they sang in a language that none present knew. 

Uttishth jalam pruthivyah adhah srav

Shilatah vasantam jivanam prayach

Atra shitalodakam pravahatu tvam

Once the adults learned the song, they joined hands around the two girls, and all sang together. After twenty minutes, some were growing frustrated, and a few looked ready to storm off. Then, water began to seep out of the rock, and Wafa and Rana collapsed in exhaustion. They were carried away, as a small spring formed, filling the depression with clear, cool, sweet water. 

“A miracle. We…we had to pay a great deal of money to have a well dug here when the old one dried up,” one of the former doubters said. 

“That settles it. The children will go to the oasis every day and learn from the Holy Djinn,” Old Bassam declared, and everyone nodded. If the Imam didn’t like it, well, they would find a new Imam. One who recognized that Nahida Saeed was the Hopebringer, chosen of Allah. Whether or not she was Iraqi no longer mattered. Her Djinn was going to give them all the water they could drink, and all the food they needed to fill their bellies; all her gifts freely given, no debt dangled as a chain. 

If that wasn’t worthy of worship, then what was?

For his entire life, Kim Yong-chol had worked in a factory in Kaesong, making parts for tractors. He had been a good party man, you had to be to get a job in the factory, and had paid respect to Kim Il Sung and his son, Kim Jong Il. He had hated the United States and their puppets in South Korea and Japan, because that was what you did. 

But at night, when he had looked up at the moon from the balcony of his small and dingy apartment, Yong-chol had dreamed of visiting it one day. He had heard stories that the Russians had landed on the moon, and that even the hated Americans had done so. He had dreamed of being the first North Korean Cosmonaut, though, of course, that was impossible. 

Now, at the age of 32, Yong-chol was standing in the heart of the rebuilt Kaesong with dozens of other workers, feeling nervous and excited in the shade of a Thunder Sakura tree that crackled overhead. He had on a hard hat and overalls as usual, and was carrying a backpack with a change of clothes and a few necessities. He looked up at the night sky, where overhead, the face of a goddess looked back at him, and his heart skipped a beat. 

A moment later, out of the newly constructed temple, that same goddess stepped, dressed in a traditional Hanbok and with a sword on her hip. Instantly, Yong-chol and the rest of the workers fell to their knees and touched their foreheads to the ground in supplication. It had been her mother and her dragons that had restored power to Korea, and ended the war that had lasted generations. She had planted the very Thunder Sakura that they now stood under, that powered the entire city, providing food and jobs for everyone. 

So much had changed in Yong-chol’s life. He didn’t know if he should hate and fear this goddess or worship her.

But he would do anything to go to the moon. Even abase himself. 

“Arise,” the goddess commanded, and Yong-chol sat up to a kneeling position, his eyes locking on to those of Dalnim, God of the Moon. He felt his very soul vibrate, and for a moment, he glimpsed sublime eternity: past, present, and even the future. A tear trickled down his cheek, and he bowed his head. How could one doubt the divinity of this being?

“My faithful devoted: you have been selected from the volunteers for your skills,” Dalnim said, standing atop a raised platform with several attendants. Both were beautiful young women dressed in the robes of a Shinto priestess. It was scandalous and odd that Shintoism was becoming the dominant religion in Korea of all places, but, well, when the very gods descended and spoke with you, old beliefs could be cast aside. 

Especially if they were going to make your dreams come true. 

“In a moment, you will set foot upon my celestial body. It is your task to help my children, the moon rabbits, to build a greater society. You will forge bonds between the people of Earth, and the people of the Moon. Though your station may be humble, know that it is vital and important. You shall be amongst the first humans to make a home upon me, and this is good. I thank you for your hard work and dedication. Go now, with my blessing. May you find the Eternity that you seek.”

“Transience is each passing moment. In each moment, we find Eternity,” Yong-chol recited in unison with the rest of the workers, bowing to Dalnim again. 

Then everyone was on their feet, and all eyes turned to Dalnim as she drew her sword. She held it before herself for a moment, and it began to crackle and glow with power. Then, with a cry, she cut a hole in the fabric of the world itself, and a gate appeared to another town square with a Thunder Sakura at the center. 

Only, in the sky above this town hung not the Moon…but the Earth. 

Yong-chol’s heart raced, and he had to force himself to walk in step with the rest of the hundred chosen workers as they marked through the portal, which snapped shut behind them. He looked around at the strange buildings, which were constructed of moon rocks and wood, but decorated to look, well…much like the buildings back in Korea did. 

“Welcome!” a chipper voice said, and Yong-chol turned to face a smiling rabbit woman with brown hair and blue eyes. She had a strange accent, but spoke Korean well enough he could easily understand her. “I am Amiya, leader of the leporidians. We thank you all for coming! This is the town of Rim Billington. Here, we have several mines and factories that we are building on the Near Side of the lunar surface. One day, we hope to ship finished goods back to Earth, but we are just starting. We look forward to working with and learning from you all. For now, we shall show you to where you will be staying.”

Yong-chul’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head as they were escorted by rabbit people to a pair of barracks: one for men, one for women. For now, it was cramped bunk beds, but Yong-chul didn’t mind. This was still a miracle, for he was walking on the moon, his every step lighter and bouncier than before. He laughed like a child as he stumbled and had to learn how to walk again like a toddler, but it was all so wondrous!

Soon, he and the rest of the workers began setting up the factories and mines alongside the bunny people. Oddly enough, Yong-chul found that they were just…people. Yes, they could turn into rabbits, and they had odd ears and a tail, but they talked and laughed just like other people, and they worshiped Dalnim and her mother, the Raiden Shogun, just as Yong-chul and the Korean workers did. 

The biggest change was that Yong-chul had to learn how to use a robot. They called it a ‘construction mecha’ but it was a very advanced robot. It was a suit that was much like a harness you put on, open to the air, but with large stabilizing legs, and two much larger arms. With this suit, you could lift things many times too heavy for a man, even on the lunar surface, and work harder and longer than you could otherwise, as it amplified your strength. It was powered by an elemental core harvested from the Narukami Trench, and recharged by the light of the Thunder Sakura each night. 

Really, it was exactly what being a cosmonaut was in Yong-chul’s dreams. Better in fact. There were aliens and robots, and he labored beneath a sky that purple lightning flashed above him constantly. He was only missing the rockets and an attractive female in skin-tight spandex from the stories. 

Instead, he met a rabbit woman who went by the name of April. She didn’t wear spandex, but instead an apron and a service uniform, but she was still quite cute. 

April was another worker, though she worked at the convenience store, selling hot food and cold drinks to the workers. He met her outside of the store when she was on break, and the two of them started talking. April, it turned out, was from Australia, where she had been a rabbit in a medical laboratory before being rescued by Amiya and Dalnim, and brought to the moon. 

“I was just a dumb animal, really. I barely remember it,” April explained to Yong-chul as they shared a cup of hot tea at a cafe one day. “But when I came to the moon, I suddenly understood things. I was able to turn into a human, like you, and now, well, now I’m a person, not just an animal.”

“Do you think all animals are people?” Yong-chul asked curiously. 

April made a face and shook her head. “Of course not! They’re just animals. I eat animals, not people. Like this fried chicken. It’s good, isn’t it? That chicken wasn’t a person, just an animal.”

“I didn’t know rabbits ate meat, but you are a very cute bunny,” he told April, and she laughed. 

In fact, she liked Yong-chul’s jokes so much that when the new apartment buildings opened, they got a unit together. To Yong-chul’s astonishment, he found he loved this alien woman he’d met on the moon. He even took her back to meet his ancient father on Earth, who was a bit baffled that his son was going to marry an alien, but seemed to accept it. 

“Things are different. Not like when the Kims were in charge,” his father muttered. 

“Things are better,” Yong-chul told his father. “You live in this nice retirement home, and are cared for. I don’t even have to pay anything for it; Holy Dalnim’s government gives it to you for free. And you like it here, don’t you?”

“The food is good, and we play Gonggi in the garden. It is fine, I guess,” his father huffed. 

“Father Kim, I made you some carrot cake! Would you like to try some?” April said, coming in with a freshly frosted single layer cake. 

It was good enough that Yong-chul’s father agreed that maybe marrying the rabbit woman wasn’t such a bad idea. 

Their first child was a boy, and they named him Kim Tok-Jun, which meant Joy Rabbit. 

There on the moon, Yong-chul found a peaceful, ordinary life. Each day, he would look back down on the Earth, and smile. Even he, a simple peasant, had been able to realize his dreams. Life had changed, but it had been a good change. He still worked at a factory, but he did so on the moon. 

He looked forward to Eternity, under the guidance of Dalnim, and her family. For his life, and the life of his children. 

Looking up at the hospital, Claidia clutched her Vision to her chest. This was her dream. Her goal. But she was 41. She had children, two of them. Could a single mother really afford to walk away from her job, soul-crushing as telemarketing was, and risk this?

I am called to heal. I always dreamed of being a nurse. Now, I can do that. 

Steeling herself again and drawing strength from the Dendro Vision she had received the night before, Claudia strode forward and into the Hospital of the Merciful Brothers in Linz, Austria. There was the Cross of Saint John over the entrance, but a new sigil had been added recently: The Anemo Sigil of Lord Barbados, Angel of Freedom. 

The hospital was busy, even on a Monday morning, but Claudia walked confidently up to the front desk.

“Do you have an appointment?” the receptionist said, nodding to a sign in sheet. 

“Actually…I was looking for a job application,” Claudia said, giving a nervous smile. 

“Oh, HR is that way,” the receptionist said, and pointed to an office at the other side of the lobby. 

Claudia nodded and headed over to the other side, where a middle aged man with glasses in a suit was typing at a computer. He looked up at her. “Yes?”

“Excuse me, I was wondering if you were hiring at the moment,” Claudia said. 

The man nodded. “That depends on your qualifications, but we need everything from room cleaners to nurses, doctors, even security guards. A great many of our staff volunteered for the War, you see.”

Claudia nodded and swallowed. She didn’t think she was ready for the war, not yet…but… “I’ll take anything…”

“Good, good, what are your qualifications? Any degree?” 

“I graduated from Realschule in 1987…”

“Ah, room cleaner then,” the man said with a nod. 

“But I also have this…” Claudia opened her hands, and revealed her Dendro Vision.

Instantly, the man stood up, his eyes bulging, his mouth open. “Why didn’t you say so?! This way, please!” 

He hurried Claudia out of the main hospital building and across the street to an administrative center, and Claudia nearly fainted when she saw that she was making for the executive suite with the words “Hospital Director: Pater Benedikt Hölzl, MD OH.” 

“Father! I’ve found one!” the man cried, opening the door without even bothering to knock. 

The director looked up from a phone call, clearly in the middle of something. Claudia would normally have apologized and fled from such a confrontation, but she felt her Vision urging her on. She stepped forward, holding up her Vision. “I…I’ve come looking for a job.”

“Sorry, Joseph, I’ll have to call you back,” the Director said, and set the phone down. He stood up and came out from behind his desk. “Truly? It’s real?”

“I, well, I haven’t checked, but…” the HR man trailed off, looking suddenly embarrassed. 

Claudia spotted a plant in the office, and crossed over to it. She knelt down, examining it. “Pineapple?”

“Yes, I’ve had it for many years, but it’s never flowered nor fruited,” the director said, groaning slightly as he squatted by Claudia. He was an old, balding man with a wrinkled but kindly face, and he had on an eccumenical collar in addition to his business suit, marking him as a priest as well as a doctor and director. 

“I’ve only had this for a few hours, but…” Claudia closed her eyes and extended a hand. She could feel the life energy, the dendro, in this plant. Using her Vision, she coaxed it, encouraged it, fed it. Until…

She opened her eyes, and the small plant had doubled in size, and atop it was perched a perfectly formed pineapple. It had been ready to fruit, but Austria wasn’t a place famous for growing pineapples. But with the gift of heaven, it was possible.

“Praise God,” the Director sighed. He stood slowly, and Claudia stood as well, feeling nervous, but determined. “Please, are you willing to work at the hospital?”

“It’s been my dream since I was a girl to be a nurse,” Claudia admitted. “But there was never money or time. My children are grown now, I’m 44, but I’ve not the schooling.”

“We will get you the schooling. On the job. Get her the paperwork. Vision Holder pay,” the Director said firmly. 

“Oh! Um, may I ask…how much?” Currently, she made 16000 Austrian Shillings a month. Paying her bills on time was hard, and she couldn’t afford to help her children out much, even though her youngest wanted to start university in the fall. 

“Starting pay is 50000 a month, but we’ll give you a signing bonus equal to a month’s salary,” the Director told her. 

Claudia would have fainted with shock if her Vision hadn’t urged her on. That was enough money to put her children through university, with enough left over to still live far more comfortably than before. 

She soon had the paperwork signed and by the end of the day, was officially an employee at the Hospital of the Merciful Brothers. She also was enrolled in classes to learn how to use her Vision, and would have a crash course in medicine. 

Two days later, she had traveled all the way to Vienna in style, first class train tickets, and in a new set of clothing. She met Dr. Johanna Leitner, who was younger than Claudia by about a decade, but still an experienced doctor and more importantly, practiced in using her Dendro Vision to heal. 

“So you got your Vision, and the first thing you did was go to the hospital to look for a job?” Dr. Leitner asked, smiling at Claudia over lunch.

“Well, no,” Claudia blushed, fidgeting a little, “The first thing I did was get down on my knees and thank God and Lord Buer for blessing me. I heard her voice when she gave me my Vision.”

Smiling fondly, Dr. Leitner nodded. “I did as well. I received mine a year and a half ago now. May I ask, what were you doing at the time?”

“Well, I had decided…” Claudia blushed, then continued on, “I’d decided to go back to school to try to get a nursing degree. I know I'm too old to be doing it, but they were saying they needed nurses, and, well, I wanted…I wanted to be able to heal people, and to learn something new, even at my age.”

“Well, you will be going through nursing school. But only piecemeal. Frankly, having a Vision makes you more valuable than most doctors. We’re desperate for them: one Dendro Vision holder can save a dozen lives a day in the ER, and is useful in oncology, obstetrics, physical therapy…the list is endless. I’m one of the few doctors in Austria that has one, and if I could, I’d be in the OR every day performing surgeries with it. But it’s more than worth my time to train you.”

The next few weeks were a whirlwind of training as Claudia learned how to use her Vision to do everything from detect cancer to regrow an eyeball. She learned to perform what would have been classified a hundred years ago as a miracle as a daily routine. It was exhausting, but even more exhilarating. 

In the years that came, Claudia never did find the time to attend nursing school. Instead, somehow, she managed to attend medical school. Her dream had grown, her Mortal Ambition shining bright. She would spend half her time at the hospital saving lives, and the other half studying frantically and attending classes. It should have been impossible for a woman in her mid-40s. 

But God had given Claudia a gift. One day, she would repay that by becoming a doctor, and taking care of His children, in the name of Lord Barbados, and Lord Buer. Claudia, like so many recognized by the Dendro Archon, would become a little Hopebringer. 

It was hope that the world would desperately need in the days to come. 

Sadly, Claudia would not become a full doctor. She would die in the 2007 Abyssal Incursion, deploying to the Central African Incursion Zone, and saving dozens of lives before fighting against the Abyss itself. Her constellation, however, would hang high in the sky for generations to come, an inspiration for all mortals whose ambition was to Heal the Sick and tend the wounded. 

PHILO (On the Yong-Chul guy): On my knees, pounding the ground. It should’ve been me! Not him! Don’t you dare let that bunny waifu go, you crazy moon-man. Live the dream! LIVE THE DREAM!
PHILO: This story is… inspiring. I think I’ve said this before, but… this feels like reading old-school comic books. Where superheros inspired. In other words, good stuff.