The Fledglings: A Great Divide

By E. DeLaurentis

The ethereal Sakrosians existed for millennia, relying on their collective energy to conjure a magnificent city. Not content to remain unchanged while creatures of the Gaia developed, the Secrecy Magistrate experimented with creating a new species. But the Fledglings didn’t embody Sakrosian ideals as intended. The Prophetess, Lita, convinc

• Language: English
• Publisher: Writing Studio LLC
• Release date: Apr 1, 2019
• ISBN: 9781733792011

E. DeLaurentis

Elizabeth DeLaurentis is an author living in Florida, writing Fantasy and Historical Fiction. Her debut novel was The Fledglings - A Great Divide, the first book in the Sakrosians Series trilogy.After years as a designer building physical environments, Elizabeth pursued creating imaginary worlds inhabited by thoughtful, struggling, witty, and sometimes ridiculous characters.Elizabeth's writing emphasizes strong female characters who face the challenges of their time in history and, with perseverance, choose to make an indelible impact.

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The Fledglings

A Great Divide

Sakrosians Series

Book 1

Elizabeth DeLaurentis

© 2019 Elizabeth DeLaurentis

All rights reserved.

No part of this document may be reproduced in whole or in part, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without prior written permission of

Elizabeth DeLaurentis, Writing Studio LLC.

This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Cover Art © 2019 Elizabeth DeLaurentis

ISBN 978-1-7337920-0-4 (paperback-lrg print)

ISBN 978-1-7337920-2-8 (paperback)

ISBN 978-1-7337920-1-1 (ebook)

* * *

In memory of my Mom, an avid reader.

Her book recommendations to me had strong female characters, which inspired me to write them.

My gratitude to family and friends who read the manuscript and listened to my angst.

* * *

Contents

Prologue

El Sees an Image

The Nursery

The Council

North to the Village

Sakrosians Meet the Villagers

Wise Woman Astra

The Rivals

The Training Begins

They Need to Leave Soon

El Meets Luken

The Toolmaker

El Talks with Astra

Preparations

El Practices the Communication

The Map’s Limitations

The Dominion Argument

Fire, Food, Shelter

Energy Resonance

Alchemy

Intention and Creation

An Amulet of Direction

Celebration

The Departure

Return to Sakros City

Telek and Enek Argue

El Visits the Nursery

Crossing the Ravine

El Sends Images

Wenda Wanders

El Reports to the Council

The Rock Overhang

El Visits the Archives

The Great Divide

None Have Returned

Traveling On

Musicians Exit

Telek’s Unease

El Asks Aza

Telek Confronts Verit

Projecting Boulders

Wandering Wenda

Ved Asks the Council

Luken’s Song

Ved’s Projection

Placing the Guide Ropes

El’s Observation

The Crossing

El Wonders Why

Wenda Wanders, Again

Lita’s Disclosure

Behra’s Path

El Sees

Prologue

What made this celestial orb, this Gaia, so special is that we decided to manifest our form here. Granted, the Gaia has majestic qualities—frost-tipped mountains, wobbly seas, fluttering foliage, and creatures that survived sporadic upheavals. We were filaments of energy before, with the intention to change. That is the critical aspect of Sakrosian history. Not content to remain static. So it is not surprising, really, that we now have come to this drastic change in our form, from ethereal to physical. But the motivations for doing so were much discussed and debated. If we were honest, we would admit that we argued for eons. Well, that might be an exaggeration. But it was many years. Many, many years.

I will concede we have a slight flaw in how our energy works. As filaments of a cosmic force, we had no constraints. But in order to manifest a form that appears on the Gaia, while conjuring all the accoutrements that we desired, we had to collaborate as a collective. Instead of spreading out across the world, we chose one spectacular location. I am biased about that, since I am the one who chose it. Seers have the ability to look across a terrain without having to actually transport to a distant place. I chose a valley surrounded by undulating hills; no other Sakrosian objected. And so it was created. Sakros City.

Then as millennia passed, numerous filaments of energy joined us, each choosing how their form would appear. Male, female, ambiguous. Tall, short, average. Old, young, middling. Such a vast variety of characteristics. When I see all of us together, the diversity is phenomenal. Our energy and intention are ingenious.

The city is impressive, a little less so now since it has been affected by the changes. We have structures and dwellings where Sakrosians gather or rejuvenate. Some emulate aspects found on the Gaia: soaring trees, articulated cliffs, conjoined hives. The northern slope had tall trees where Sakrosians conjured additional towers, nestled in among the trunks. The only way to discern which of the Twin Trunks are trees and which are dwellings is the winding steps that lead up to doors. Some Sakrosians chose to burrow hovels into the hills or surround cottages with gardens.

We also created edifices with simulated materials for our collective buildings. The Council Chamber complex where I reside is such a place. Like the sol emerging in the eastern horizon, the Council dome rises above the white stone-ish facade. It captures the sol’s luminous rays and reflects the light in a golden hue. Beneath the dome is a round room where the Councilors meet, sitting along a crescent-shaped table resembling a sliver of the lune that whirls in the night sky.

Sentinels monitor our energy from their vigil in alcoves that line the Chamber complex halls. In contrast to the diversity the rest of us chose, they conjure a uniform appearance in short black tunics and shin-high boots. Their only mark of individuality is a reference to a Gaia animal: a beak-shaped nose, webbed fingers, or tusked teeth. We tolerate their strangeness because we rely on the resonance of their chant at dusk to align the Sakrosian collective, which enables us to conjure the city and a river of energy that meanders through it. Hovercraft skim across the shimmering surface, propelled by our intention to move. We cannot just vanish from one place and appear in another. We do become attached to the form we manifest, even though it is not quite solid. The development of Sakros City satisfied our desire for change, for a while.

Sakrosians establish a purpose by choosing skills that contribute to the collective. I chose to be a Seer, which means I spend time observing what happens elsewhere. There is a detachment necessary to the skill; it can confound others. We are loners in a collective, an aspect of our awareness soaring across the terrain. I have felt dizzy gazing down on the peaks and ridges of mountains, seen how the lakes and rivers form connections that span immense distances, and watched swift creatures chase their prey on flat plains of swaying grasses. We can convey what we see to companions, either by projecting an image onto a surface as an event occurs or by accumulating and organizing the data for later reports. That is what my role on the Council entails. Some can record their own activities to convey, but Seers watch what happens in distant places. As arrogant as it is to say, our role has become imperative.

I should mention there are other skills too: Musicians, Archivists, Builders, Mythmakers, Star Gazers, too many to list adequately. It was the Explorers that felt the most confined. There were limitations to what their skill could accomplish since they were bound by how far they could travel from our energy source. They were enamored with the creatures that freely roamed the Gaia. What if? became potential, and Explorers were the first to volunteer for the experiments.

Initially, we had disasters attempting to change our form. Then we established the Secrecy Magistrate to conceal the results. They managed to develop new breeds through genetic mutations of existing animals. But the goal was to create a species that Sakrosians could transform our energy into so our ethereal form became a being that would travel the Gaia and breathe as living creatures do. Of course we wanted to look and think in ways similar to what we had become accustomed. At that we failed. The experiments were intended to establish new entities, more advanced, not less.

After many dreadful attempts at altering various species, the Secrecy Magistrate came to the Chamber to explain the forest dweller modifications, the Fledglings, were the best they could produce given the available sources. Of all the prototypes, the sapiens born to women of the forest were the closest to our intention. At least the forest dwellers as a genesis walked upright on two legs, not on four hooves. They were capable of a crude language and had their own version of a collective in their tribes. Councilors were disappointed in the results; some whined incessantly. But there are limitations to what can be enhanced with our energy and intention. Even the Alchemists agreed.

I remember the day very clearly when the Alchemist Ak presented to the Council what he could transform, with his black hair sleeked back, beautifully tucked into his silver circlet. His penetrating blue eyes gazed at the Councilors along the table, pausing to nod to me. He chose his profile stance to taunt me; he knows I enjoy gazing at the regal statues in the sculpture gardens. He held that lump of stone in his immaculate hands, with just the right amount of dramatic timing, and transformed it into a scintillating diamond. But he could not make an object animate. For that we needed a creature of the Gaia. The Prophets were convinced there was potential for the Fledglings to evolve. So the decision was made.

There was not much argument about what we wanted to accomplish; it was enticing to imagine a new possibility. The discussions focused on strategy and implementation. Who, what, when? And inevitably, what was to become of us?

Born as infants, the Fledglings mature painstakingly slowly. We were not sure of their intelligence level until late in their development. If we can even call them intelligent. No wonder Sakrosians have never chosen to manifest as children; none were willing to be so diminished.

We had to devise appropriate structures and food for their consumption. They could not live in Sakros City; they needed physical dwellings. I do not typically watch Sakrosians, but it was amusing to see our Builders, who were accustomed to conjuring forms, have to chop trees and drag logs to construct huts in villages on the outskirts of our hills.

The initial transformations to physical entities were carefully planned. It took considerable energy for the genetic modifications, so only the strongest Sakrosians were enlisted to participate in the experiments. After a generation, the Fledglings began to procreate, which resulted in an easier transition. We noticed that some Sakrosian traits emerged, and we congratulated ourselves that they were not as primitive as the forest dwellers. We kept the species separated to avoid tainting the offspring.

As the Fledgling population increased, we needed more volunteers. The Linguists devised an incantation that was inserted in the Sentinel chant. We were not prepared for the consequences. Too many Sakrosians left in one colossal mistake. An entire sector on the western side of the city erupted into energy particles! That dusk, while the mist settled across the valley, was the only time we halted the chant as we scrambled to understand how our essence was tethered to our manifestations. It was bewildering how Sakros City could lose stability so easily. We should have known that our society was conditioned to adhere to the messages embedded in the chant. Aligning our energy resonance is how we maintain order. But there were not even enough Fledglings reproducing for those that transitioned to gestate. We waited to see if they would return to Sakrosian form. How could we send a sector into limbo?

The area is a large meadow now. I often walk there to the edge of the forest remembering how shocked we were at the chaos. I hope the essence of the ones that left so suddenly eventually transformed into Fledglings. After sixty generations, their population has multiplied enough to accommodate them.

Needless to say, the Linguists changed the chant. We wanted to repress the memory of the collapse so our decision would not be deterred. Now the chant encourages a more controlled transition, and there is a choice involved. Not everyone chooses to leave, obviously. We need many of us to remain to help guide the Fledglings. It would have been sheer ineptitude if we transitioned into a species that could not persevere. Ironically, the Directive—we will do what we can to ensure the Fledgling survival—provided a resurgence to Sakrosian activity. The Nurturers flung themselves into helping Fledglings at birth, healing illnesses, and comforting at the time of their deaths.

Their deaths.

Sakrosians do not experience cessation like the creatures of the Gaia. It is not pleasant that Seers are the most attuned to witnessing demise. It has made us more conscious of our own. There is a precarious fulcrum point in time—and we have no concept of when—after too many transitions to Fledglings, there will no longer be adequate energy to maintain our form, our city. We will cease to exist.

I wanted the Council to consider alternatives to the decision. That was the argument that severed my allegiance to Ak. I am not so fascinated with his charisma that I fail to see his flaws.

Lita said we argued so much because we are—were—too similar. But the Councilors do not realize what he considers necessary to ensure the Directive. I would never do what he has conceived.

Lita, the Prophetess, is the last one remaining who sees potential. Ha! The Mythmakers have developed archetypes for characters in their stories: hero, maiden, beast, guardian, hunter, and crone. A meddling old hag—modeled after Lita! They portray me as either a wise old man or a hermit. I debated about conjuring a long white beard to look the part. Lita got so irritated with me inviting the Mythmakers into the common room at the complex to tell their stories that she moved to a little hut on the eastern side of the city.

At least her story will continue to be told. Lita does deserve recognition for adamantly insisting that Fledglings inhabit vast regions of the Gaia. It was easy to maintain their survival if all they accomplished was living in villages on the outskirts of Sakros City. But the premise was to travel away from our collective energy source, so why were the Fledglings lingering nearby? With all the failures in our attempts to create new entities, it was imperative that we succeed at this. Surely we could teach these inferior creatures enough so they could survive without our guidance, even if we are no longer here.

We send them away from Sakros City well enough. I warned the Council: any direction but west. Seers watch as the Fledglings plod across the terrain. At least they have not returned, which would defeat the purpose of establishing independence. It would be more reassuring that they are capable of evolving to what we intended to create, as Lita prophesies, if they became more advanced. I watched several travelers struggle to journey north, but the terrain is too impassible for their skills. They could not even establish a permanent northern village until half a century ago when we finally sent a group from Sakros City with families.

In many regions they form a community and journey no further. The Explorers would be disappointed at the lack of adventure. It would be easy to dismiss the complacency as Fledgling ignorance or incompetence, but we have not been much help. Our energy has a range limitation, so we are incapable of showing them the way. I have tried to travel where I can soar but it causes a strain close to collapse. So we do not stray far from Sakros City, hoping the Fledglings will populate the Gaia, wondering if we might be out of time.

We have new Councilors to replace the ones who left, who focus on monitoring progress for the preparations and the journeys. I often wonder, sitting in the Chamber listening to their reports, if they understand the turmoil that was involved in the decision. They should show more respect for what we established. Sometimes it is as irritating as listening to a cackle of hyenas.

Sakrosians are supposed to be more tolerant than I feel, but I am just bitter because I have decided to leave. Perhaps once the choice is made, we become less Sakrosian. I am definitely less inclined to support Ak as leader.

I secretly and diligently selected my replacement for the Council. But then that Seer transitioned!

Thunder! as Ved would say. The Logistics Commander has thrived with the responsibilities of preparations. He gave up the flowing robes of scholarly, strategic contemplations and conjured tunics to wear like those the Fledglings can produce. He worked with the Builders to plan for structures using materials they could find in regions across the Gaia. The Fledglings carry flints that he taught them how to strike to inflame kindling. They have learned means to gather food: to grow or forage for fruit and grains, to hunt and fish. We debated about conjuring more advanced devices for their use, but it takes energy to maintain the manifestation. The Alchemists can enhance an object already in physical form, which Ved prefers. Instead of relying on our creations the Fledglings utilize available resources for their primitive tools, with minimal intervention on our part. Ved has accomplished more than most of us; I admire a Sakrosian of action. I wonder if he will have the courage to defy the Sentinel chant.

I doubt the girl will—the Seer that Ak has seduced into thinking she could one day sit with the Council. I have seen her, and her frivolous friend who invokes whatever darts into her capricious whims. Just because a Sakrosian can conjure does not mean she should waste energy to do so. Have some restraint!

Only if that girl is the last Seer will the Councilors admit her to sit under their illustrious dome. She has not had the burden to see what I endured. I hope she realizes she has benefited from my influence on the Directive. Yet all Seers have burdens that cannot be eliminated. For this she has my empathy. She is too uncertain in her technique, bordering on incompetence, to interfere. I suppose her insecurity is Ak’s preference. He will not admit he has made a mistake, and he does not want anyone noticing.

I have thought about my transition. It will not be like the Phytanist. He had been collaborating with an Archivist to document his studies of wild grains, some of which he had cultivated. I often spotted him in fields beyond our city, running his fingers along the stalks, tenderly touching the dew on tendrils that extend from clusters of golden seeds. He worked with Fledgling farmers to monitor harvesting schedules.

The Phytanist was in the midst of explaining how the seeds are ground to flour, mixed into dough, formed as a loaf, and baked on a flat stone near a fire when he inhaled so deeply, wishing to breathe in the aroma of bread, that he disappeared. In an instant he was gone! The Archivist concluded her record: one can assume he transitioned. As if that was not at all disconcerting. I suspect there is a baker somewhere among the Fledglings who drifts through fields of grains, knowing when the golden tint of plaited seeds is just right.

I do not have a conscious recollection of when we transitioned from energy filament to Sakrosian form. None of us would argue that was ill conceived. But we have gaps in what we envisioned in creating the Fledglings, gaps larger than any chasm on the Gaia.

We have not determined every aspect, we cannot anticipate what will arise, and so much could go wrong.

El Sees an Image

A flax blue mist shimmered through El’s room. The haze parted as she saw a flash of an image, someone moving through the western woods on the outskirts of the city. El sat up; a chair formed beside a window as her surroundings became more solid. She focused her Seer’s energy on the forest. The vision flashed again. This time El saw a woman struggling to