Gavin Greyback and the Eigon Parabellum

[Therin]

Grey dawn. Cloudbreak over the K'tari delta. Signus Elucidus. Welcome to the future. Dreams are nightmares here; nightmares are real. Waking visions, a sign of the impending. Look around, and you will not see what is. Sight travels through the barrier of mentality. You will see what could be. You will see what might be, what would be, but for the reality that lies beneath it. To say nothing is what it seems would be like saying the Cat perched at the edge of the Milehigh Shelf doesn't exist. He exists. Just not in the way that you are used to understanding. Before you, across the sickly yellow-green grass, through the Parched Forest, past The Cat, is our world. Our world...in all its facets. Step carefully, newcomer. Your mind is not trained as ours are. Your senses are not attuned. Your essence is not as...malleable. Beware, for it is not the young, flexible yew branch who falls before a gust of wind. It is the old, solid and stiff, who snaps in a storm. Welcome to eternity.

My name is Gavin Greyback.

In some circles, I am the end-all, be-all. I am the light at the end of the tunnel. The ray of light shining through the dark clouds overhead. In some circles, I am a God. What can I say? In a reality where sense is a subjective matter, mere madness can seem reasonable when compared to the truth. To society at large, I am called a Walker. Where humanity lives with its head in the clouds, my feet stand firmly on the sidewalk. In a house of mirrors, I am the illusionist.

[Therin]

The outsider was discovered under midday sun, just south of the Milehigh Shelf. There's a swath, maybe thirty paces wide, starts right at the base of the Shelf and runs south, straight as a compass needle. Nothing grows. They call it The Cat's Gaze. No one's ever found the other end. The Cat can see forever. When the Longrunners picked her up, she was laying on her back, apparently asleep. No trace of sunburn, she hadn't been there more than ten, maybe fifteen minutes. Things burn fast under The Cat's Gaze. Not a mark on her at all, according to the Channeler. Minor curiosity.

Dark skin, fair hair. Smooth features; not a straight line on her. Clothes like nothing I'd ever seen before, in case I needed another clue. Eyes like coals that haven't quite cooled after a fire; jet black, but every time I looked at them I got the sense they'd been bright orange seconds before, would be again as soon as I looked away. Unsettling. Took an involuntary step back the first time she opened them.

"Where am I?" Dark voice. No other way to describe it. Kind of voice that goes way down into your guts and tells you exactly what will happen if you ever get on this girl's bad side. Says volumes to a trained listener. There were layers to this girl. Layers upon layers, stacked together and interwoven like a heavy winter coat. Or the links in a set of chain mail.

"You are in Montegue." Blank look. "Not familiar?" Deadpan. "Small town under the Shelf, not quite a day's walk west of The Cat's Gaze."

She was on a Channeler's mattress, thin white sheet pulled up to her neck, arms and legs gently but firmly restrained. I'm a nice guy, but I don't like to take chances.