The Call by Elí Freysson Page B

shorelines. It was also divided into the nations of the world, each one of which was marked by name, except for the wild Outskirts and the northernmost spits of Northrim.
    “This map is outdated,” she said. “It looks to be about fifteen years old. But it will suffice.”
    She put it on a stool and sat down. Katja sat on the bed and waited with anticipation for this ending to the beginning of her training, or just what exactly was coming.
    “What do you know of the old world?” Serdra asked. “Before the Shattering?”
    Katja gaped a bit. It felt quite strange enough to be asked about the Jukiala-era, rarely mentioned outside of song evenings, let alone the far distant past.
    “Um,” she thought and tried to dig some information from her memories. “It...” She threw up her hands and shook her head. “You know, we never thought of such things back home. I only know that the world was different before the Shattering and the Lady. I've never wondered about the details.”
    “I don't know all the details myself, they hardly matter anymore,” Serdra said. “But by all accounts things were different then. Simpler for our people, fewer enemies and mankind's knowledge is said to have been amazing. Buildings, weapons and medicine were far ahead of what has been achieved since. Vastly different. At least in this world.”
    “This world?” Katja asked.
    “There are others. Differing in their distance and incomprehensibility to mankind. The spirit world, to which the souls of men vanish, is an example of an existence a step above ours. But there are also underworlds, corners of existence where terrible entities dwell: Dark spirits and the creatures men call demons. They are not like you and me. Thought and existence are different from what mortal men know, and they hate us. They hate lingering in the darkest corners of the universe and wish to climb upwards.”
    “Between these worlds are divides. Walls which prevent people, spirits and entities wandering where they don't belong. During the peak of the old world a hole was torn into the wall between our world and the lower one. Incredible energies burst in all directions and all sorts of creatures flowed in.”
    “Some wandered about in a mad frenzy and have long since been slain. Others took up a shadow existence, like the wretches on the hill by your village. And those who were here before changed.”
    “In short, the world was changed for the worse, and not only regarding monsters. The cities collapsed, people died in droves, lands rose and sank, mountains moved from place. The face of the earth itself changed, and out of all this chaos rose the Death Lords; terrible abominations with power over the walking dead. They established their own order far to the east and harried what remained of mankind.”
    “Where were the Redcloaks while all this was going on?” Katja asked.
    Serdra smiled.
    “That name didn't exist then. Much of our kind fell during those times, both in the cataclysm and the ensuing battles with the demon hordes and servants of the Death Lords. In addition the Lords commanded entire armies. It was hard for our kin to do much about the situation alone.”
    “But then Jukiala arrived on the scene, the woman later known as the Lady, and as you know she led an exodus out of the ruins, out of the grasp of the Death Lords and to the west.”
    “The journey took years and was slow going through ruins and wastelands. But our siblings did their part to defend the people, and more and more joined the horde until a great portion of the people who hadn't gone mad in the cataclysm were marching west under the Lady's banner.”
    “Many old historians praise this. They called it proof that humanity deserved to survive, a time of unity and brotherhood when the old matters of contention were dropped to the wayside one by one.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “Jukiala changed the world. All modern nations have in common to have once been part of Jukiala, with a