The Academy of New World Historians

Exploring the History of the Five Worlds

Prologue for Reading the Wind

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It took Chelo nearly two weeks to tell the tale which we published in one collected stream as The Silver Ship and the Sea.   Reading the Wind is composed of bits collected from Joseph and from Chelo.  This is where Chelo picked up the story effective  August  3rd, 222.

The last story I told you was of our sundering.  The long war for the wild planet Fremont ripped the seven of us apart:  it sent away my brother Joseph, his sweetheart Alicia, our friend Bryan, and our best protector, damaged and broken Jenna.  The sundering sent them to the stars aboard the silver ship, the New Making.  It left three of us on Fremont: three genetically changed teens amongst a few thousand original humans.

I could have stayed in Artistos, where I grew up, but Artistos would have been full of Joseph’s ghost: in our house, in the guild halls, in Commons Park, in the school.

Instead, I went with the West Band of field scientists, or roamers, to build a different life for myself.  That very choice was, in a way, a different and smaller sundering.

So the story I will tell you now begins after both the big sundering and the little sundering, after the ship flew away and after I fled Artistos to become a roamer.

Three years passed between the end of the last story and the beginning of this one.  The first was my year of sharp pain from losing contact with Joseph.  I spent the second year learning to be a roamer, and the third becoming useful, maybe even needed, within the band.  Becoming family.

By the end of these three years, I was happy.  I loved being a roamer, loved being able to hunt and run and be smart and be myself.  The West Band gave Liam and me respect in spite of our differences and we gave them even more success than they had before.

Even though Liam and I didn’t promise each other a future with words, our hands sparked when we touched, and our eyes found each other in any crowd, across nearly any distance.

I had my own little wagon; no small thing.

And every year, we got to visit Jenna’s cave twice.  Our cave now.  We named it the Cave of Power, and there we were learning who we were.

Perhaps, in spite of the gaping hole where my brother had been, I was happier than ever.

stream created July 23rd, 228.