Shireroth

Nobody knows quite when the principal of Cloud-Divining started on Melangia. It just appears to be something that 'was always there'. A pre-eminent Gralan-Atterockian Historian mused that the Mel'anje people were created around the time the Etruri, some Gralan mortals with god like powers, were at the height of their power. The Etruri were known to have communicated to their followers with lightning. And they were known to have been active on the Kendall Isles, so close to Melangia. Who is to say they didn't also communicate with clouds, and the Melangians learnt to read it.

But that time was long since past, and what may once have been a practical method to read the emotions of god-like people had long since become an artform that the most devout Melangians all swore by. There was, apparently, no end to what could be read in the clouds - in their shape, form, thickness ... and in the colours they formed at sunset. This was the part Andreas liked most - watching the clouds at sunset. They were just so beautiful. In his time here, he had never learnt the art of Cloud-Divining, and, privately, considered it little more than attempts at divination, no more likely to be right than those who read, say, animal livers. Or astrologers. As if big flaming balls of gas cared what mortals did. Why would smaller, wet lumps of gas care any more? But Andreas also knew the popularity of Cloud-Divining - and that though most prophecies were rather cryptic, or very basic weather predictions ... they tended to work. So he did not speak against it, and, finding a quiet evening in Sakatra, was not adverse to spend it with the elder and most experienced Cloud-Diviner on the island, Cla'Udi.

Cla'Udi spoke of Cloud-Divining as if it were a science, not an art. Anyone familiar with chaos theory, and the idea that a butterfly flapping its wings in Toketi New Shirlan could cause a storm in Magna Novatainia would feel comfortable with much of what he talked about - clouds picking up disturbances in the weather patterns, air currents etc, which would allow a Cloud-Diviner to predict the weather several days ahead, and up to a few hundred kilometres away. They might shy away from his other comments though. He talked about the weather influencing people's moods (which was obvious), but also about people's moods influencing the weather. He talked about different emotions producing subtly different pheremones and gas structures into the air, which, in large enough volumes, would be reflected in the particular shape of the borders of clouds. He talked about reading pollutants in the air, or an increase in the number of cows, or even that he could predict a war, by the shapes the clouds formed when much gunpowder was in the air from increased training exercises. Andreas didn't believe much of it ... but it was a pleasant way to spend a rare free afternoon.

The civil war seemed to be reaching a lull. The Duke had not forcibly tried to seize Gong Li yet - perhaps he had listened to Andreas' warnings, perhaps he just was waiting for something. He'd certainly abandoned the pretense of giving Vervollkommnung to Atterock, having handed it to one of his Batavian cronies* the moment he'd hopped off the plane. In a way, Andreas was waiting for his next move. And in another way, Andreas had plenty to be getting on with - the full establishment of outposts and his new shadow-fighters, for a start. And considering Halluci after that. But for tonight, he was watching clouds, and thinking, while beside him Cla'Udi muttered under his breath about the different shades of grey, and the exact shape of a particular pattern. Suddenly, Andreas realised Cla'Udi was no longer mumbling, but addressing him personally.
"How would you describe the borders of that cloud?" he asked, pointing. "The little one, two down from the top, on the left, with a pale shade of yellow, like the petals of a daffodil?" As always, it was clear he thought more of clouds than Andreas. Andreas stared at the cloud in question for a while. Then he magically enchanted his sight, to look in more detail. Cla'Udi, after all, used a Melangian equivalent of binoculars. "Rugged," he said finally. "Rugged like a mountain, but worn down somewhat by rough winds."
"Yes, that's exactly what I was thinking," Cla'Udi said. "Rugged. Which means ..."
Andreas waited, but Cla'Udi appeared to be muttering to himself again. Andreas decided to prompt him, when he started speaking again. "Get a pen would you, young Andreas."
There were very few people Andreas would allow to say that unchallenged, and even fewer he would obey. But he recognised the tone in Cla'Udi's voices ... his own had had that tone when he was on the verge of an important historical breakthrough. He knew better than to argue, and just got out a pen and paper, to record.
"Cla'Udi, in my 57th year as a Cloud Diviner, in the reign of Andreas the Wise as High Priest." Cla'Udi began in traditional Melangian historical prose style. Then, suddenly, it got far less traditional.
"I see a time of great unrest," he said. "I see struggles emerging such as have not been seen in ... 278 generations." Andreas nodded at this - followers of Sakat were exact, where others would just put "many lifetimes". "I see much fear in the air, but I also see ... adventure. I see the interference of the gods in the affairs of mortals. I see lives being played with like pawns." His voice was becoming more and more concerned. "I see dangerous Times. I see plans on the crystals. I see interference in the Stream ... the Stream ..." he gasped, and then fell silent, then collapsed. Andreas looked at him - he was unconcious, and his breathing was ragged. Was it shock ... or was it something more sinister. "Frieio Ficfuo," Andreas muttered, and the healing slowly took effect. Andreas was nowhere near as proficient at healing as Bayen, and this was, he knew, only a temporary measure ... to strengthen Cla'Udi enough to get him back to the Temple where he could receive proper medical attention. Enough to heal him, that is, if it were natural ...

It was nearing noon, and Cla'Udi was busy with the tasks of governing Melangia. While Andreas was Count, and indeed, Baron, he was often absent with his other duties; it fell to Cla'Udi to manage the day to day matters. It left him little time for research or cloud divining, but he recognised he was fulfilling an important role for the island community; and besides, History said he was the Melangian who managed things at that time, and who was he to contradict History?

But the Melangian people still had a different outlook on life than other Kildarians; and so Cla'Udi was not too surprised when one of his aides came in and said ... "Please, Cla'Udi, will you come outside and look at the clouds? They are most ... odd."
In most offices across Shireroth, this would have been dismissed as a time wasting triviality; but in Melangia, great store was set by the clouds. And Cla'Udi was the premiere Cloud Diviner. So he put down his pen, put the cap on his bottle of squid ink, and said, "Of course, Mur'Quy," and followed his aide outside. He expected to see a light covering of clouds, and perhaps the light already dimming (for there was an eclipse predicted today), but when he looked up, his mouth fell open. The sky was full of clouds, always appearing in pairs, and always shaped as cubes. There were patches of darker cloud, almost like dots, spread across the lighter cubes. It looked, for all the world, like the sky was covered in a thousand pairs of dice.
"Please, Cla'Udi, what does this mean?"
"It means ... something fated," Cla'Udi said, remembering that clouds resembling a single pair of die were not too uncommon across the pages of History, though always portentous of troubled times. But never, in all of History, had there been recorded a whole sky full of them. "Something very bad is coming. It may already be here," Cla'Udi said, worried. "Cancel everything else today. I must go to the temple to prepare for what may be coming."

Cla'Udi hurried towards the Temple of Sakat. While on the western side, the island of Melangia had gently sloping beaches, on its eastern side were high cliffs. Perched on them, high above the sea, was the Temple of Sakat. In the half-light of the eclipse, strangely shaped shadows played over its surface. Cla'Udi ignored them, hurrying past the white columns that marked the main doors, heading for a side entrance. He pushed it open, and hurried along the corridors, delving deep within the complex. Acolytes and priests alike stood aside as he made his way along, casting odd glances after him; but his mind was on his destination. Finally, he reached a door that, disobeying all dramatic laws, looked perfectly ordinary, and was labelled, "Ink Closet." Cla'Udi went up to the door, and drew from his pocket a vial of what looked like squid ink. He dripped it on the handle. At once, the door began to change, and grow - and in moments it was several metres high and wide, two giant wooden doors ornately carved to form a single squid, and a book. Cla'Udi, old though he was, pushed them open with a nudge. They swung open, and he entered the headquarters of the Time Revisionists.

Nobody looked up as he entered. Nobody seemed to have noticed anything disturbing. He looked through the vast hall, past all the bookshelves, to the large book which was sitting, page open, a quill writing on it as if by an unseen hand. "And so, the last plague struck the land, and in the Dark Glade, the gloom that had always settled there was dispersed as if by bright sunlight, even though the eclipse continued. And so the prophecy of the seer Kitus, that had been destroyed by the Shadowmancer Kelshazzhar, was fulfilled, and the End Times began."
The quill started a new paragraph, but this one concerned the war in Amokolia, and seemed unconnected to any fated events. Cla'Udi had seen enough. Something very bad was happening. But what was this prophecy which had been fulfilled? And End Times? There was no mention of Balgurdian hordes bursting forth, so he assumed it was a different End Times from the Shirithian one.

He turned to one of the melangians hurrying around. "Get me the Prophecy of the Seer Kitus," Cla'Udi demanded. Alarmed, the melangian ran off, while Cla'Udi himself looked towards the sacred pool for the tell-tale tentacle which would reveal Sakat's presence. But there was none. When Cla'Udi most urgently wanted guidance, Sakat was somewhere else.
The melangian he had sent returned, but did not bear anything. "Sir, I have checked the Prophecy section quite carefully. No prophecies by a Seer Kitus exist."
"What you mean is, we don't have any record of them," Cla'Udi said, dismayed. "Very well, thankyou," he muttered, and dismissed the melangian. He had heard nothing of this prophecy, but the book had said that it had been destroyed by a Shadowmancer, and he couldn't even recall shadows in established Kildarian history. But there was one way to sort this out ...

He hurried out of the hall of the Time Revisionists, making his way this time for the main temple. He reached the doorway to the main altar, but before he could enter, he felt two hands come to rest on his shoulders. He turned. There were two men in black standing beside him.
"If you'll excuse me, gentleman, I must see Sakat on urgent business," Cla'Udi said, summoning all the authority into his tone he thought capable.
"It's become a bit more serious than that," one man replied, flashing a SHINE badge. "The Kaiser would like to see you. He may not mind, but we don't like to keep him waiting."
Cla'Udi sighed. "Of course. Just make sure you bring a bottle of squid ink, a stone bowl of water, and some parchment and a quill on the trip over ..."