★Memorable Author: [El_Roy_1999] Stories~collected 2010-12

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[El_Roy_1999]

Myra crashed into the opposite edge of the rift. She could feel the cloth tear, her corset's bones bending from the impact. She scrambled for the top of the cliff, expecting it to be hard and exhausting, but instead throwing herself in the air with ease. She landed on her feet, righted herself and looked back at the screaming apes in the distance. Only then did she realise that she no longer was on Earth. Around her, the red sand flowed in huge dunes, above her, two moons hovered in a sky filled with unfamiliar stars. She was astonished by the distance she had covered in her panicked leap. She must have flown several hundred feet.
The hooting of the apes grew more silent as they realised that she was out of their reach now. She shook her head, still unable to accept the sudden change in her environment and pinched herself to wake. Nothing. It hurt, she still stood there in the middle of a red desert. The light of the two full moons was quite strong, allowing her to see in the distance comfortably. She looked around, but there was no sign of any other life except for a few twisted trees. She was parched.
Deciding that she couldn't change her fate by just standing around, she organised her skirts and headed for the trees.

After a few steps, Myra understood that everything was much lighter around here. Either that or she was stronger herself. Anyway, she sauntered gladly across the sand, skipping and jumping, astonished by the speed and range of her strides. After a few steps , she had to stop and laugh. She was giddy from the miraculous escape and the confrontation with certain death and just had to laugh as loud as her corset would allow.
As she stood there shaking with glee, she heard a stern voice shout at her. There were unfamiliar noises and syllables, so she turned around and saw a person clad in reddish cloth, wearing a hood and veil as well as carrying a large staff. The person's dress had a rather oriental flair, but it was still alien. The creature lowered the veil and revealed...
______________

... a stern man's face, reddish brown and furrowed. The man looked her over, clearly surprised by her unlikely get-up and repeated his strange, unfamiliar words. Myra shook her head, making signs of incomprehension. The man waited for a while, then tried again, this time slower and in another rhythm and tone. Myra thought it might be another language, different from the first, but still incomprehensible. She shook her head again, but then the man pointed in a direction and made a motion that suggested the sun going up. She nodded, hoping that this meant approval.
The man made signs that seemed to suggest that he was going to leave now and that he was willing to take her with him. She nodded again. He started in the direction and Myra followed him. He seemed to be in a hurry. The whole situation was still extremely bizarre for her, so she decided not to interfere and just walked behind him, lifting her skirts.

The walk took her to a large encampment of several dozens of tents. As the pair approached, Myra could distinguish many people working swiftly at their chores, apparently getting ready for an important event. What amazed her was that the group had various animals at their disposal, but none of them looked remotely familiar. The best she could do was liken most of them to large, flightless birds, like ostriches, but without feathers. When she had been to London, she had seen mounted skeletons of dinosaurs. These beasts seemed related.
The man led her to the tents, his pace quickening as the sunlight began to appear on the horizon. The last steps were taken, the people disappeared in their tents and Myra was brought in as the rays of the sun flooded the plateau.

[El_Roy_1999]

"Myra! Myra!" Ralph stood there in the middle of the standing stones, looking around in desperation and shouting his fiancée's name. Victoria joined him, adding another "Myra!" to his complaint.
They looked around, hoping for a response. Nothing.
She had just touched the stone slab that formed a kind of threshold to the cave, then disappeared. There had been no flash of light, no bang, no cloud of smoke. No sign of her. Ralph had swiftly followed her steps, had walked into the mouth of the cave, but had soon found out that the entrance was empty. He had ventured inside as far as the light would allow, but hadn't found her. He half expected her to be right behind him when he turned back around, but no. She had disappeared.
Checking outside was just as pointless. Eventually, Victoria said:
"Let's fetch help."
"That's right. I'll stay here. You take the dogcart to the village and get the men to come over here and help. They should bring torches, ropes and tools. We'll need to explore the caves, maybe she got lost."
"But I just saw her step in. She couldn't have gone far."
"I know, but she isn't there, so what else can have happened. Now go."
"Of course."

When the carriage had left, Ralph paced the area as the sun went down slowly. Where was she? Where had she gone? Could someone just disappear in mid-air?"

[El_Roy_1999]

Inside the tent, it was a little stuffy and rather crowded. Myra stood there, taking in the details around her with astonishment. There were things she recognised, like elegant, long-drawn tea pots and small tables as well as large pillows to sit on. There was something that might be a hookah, there were some scrolls. The whole room had an oriental feeling to it, the impression being reinforced by the carpets on the floor and the clothes her hosts were wearing. On the other hand, there were things that were definitely alien to her: First, there was a machine of some sort which was a large brass conch studded with glass cylinders and pulsating with a faint blue light, next to it were some twisted and intertwined wooden sculptures covered in brass bands. There was also a large steel box in the room. The box was decorated with strange, otherworldly carvings that suggested deep-sea fish and mollusks. It didn't fit the desert environment that surrounded her.

Her host walked to the centre of the room and sat down, taking his place among his peers. He looked at her expectantly. After a few moments, he made a gesture for her to sit down. Myra stepped closer and sat down, carefully organising her skirts so as to take as little room as possible. The women in the room looked at her with curiosity, young children appeared in the back of the tent and staring at her in disbelief.
Outside, the sun went up with an intense blast of brightness. The sides of the tent flared up brightly, everything became pale and overlit. One of the women adjusted the brass bands on the wooden sculptures and the light in the tent dimmed. Then, the man spoke again, gesticulating and trying to make himself understood. From what she grasped, he welcomed her and offered her shelter, food and drink, but wanted her to come along.
Myra nodded and said "yes" slowly and frequently until the man understood. He then said something in his own language which she believed meant the same.

Myra tried the food they offered her and was surprised by its spicy taste. She managed to keep it down though, careful not to insult her hosts. After a few bites, she was sweating profusely, but she was beginning to like the taste. The drink was equally exotic. It was rather bitter-sour, not tasting like anything she had ever drunk before. However, it stilled her thirst. After the meal, the people took out strange instruments from their cases and her host explained something very slowly, as if speaking to a newborn. He pointed at the strange contraption and clearly said its name. Then, he made a sign to the artists and they started playing.The music was strange, its rhythm alien and its tunes highly unfamiliar, but the otherwordly sound soon worked themselves into Myra's ears and she found them pleasant to listen to. She couldn't help nodding her head gently. After a few moments of music, some of the people got up, removed their outer garments and started dancing. Myra was shocked.
They were almost naked: With the exception of some rather small patches of leather and clasps of brass, the men and women were in a state of lustful undress. Some of them had even attached their jewelry directly to their body, hanging it to holes driven through their skin. A few had large tattooed paintings worked into their skins that showed flowers and animals. Through their movements and the strange, shifting darkness, the plants and beasts seemed to come alive. Myra sat there, gasping for air, blushing up to her ears. Only then did she realise that her head was now quite heavy. The drinks she had been offered must have contained some mild soporific that made her dizzy.
One of the dancing woman that swayed her shapely hips seductively took her by the hand and tried to lead her in the dance, but she refused. She would have no part in this even though she found it all quite fascinating. Still, it was obscene.

Eventually, the dancers grew tired, the musicians stopped playing and the host sat down, smoked his hookah and began telling a story. As he spoke, he blew thin whisks of smoke into the air and made strange gestures that shaped the fumes into symbols and pictures. Myra listened to the story for a while, recognising single words, but growing more and more tired. Finally, she fell asleep.
Outside, the storm roared and the sunlight gleamed ferociously. In her dreams, she wondered where she was, how she got here and when she would see Ralph again.

[El_Roy_1999]

Night had fallen. The labourers were tired. Lamps had been lit, dousing the area in the yellow light of the burning carbide. The foreman, Henry Bones, walked over to Ralph and took off his cap, wiping the sweat from his brow.
"Sir, we found nothing."
Ralph turned to him. He had somehow expected this.
"Have you looked everywhere?"
"We checked the caves, we looked down close to the water. Nothing. We didn't even find a single clue."
"How about the stones around the cave? Maybe there's some hidden trapdoor?"
"I'm sorry, but it's solid rock. We could even budge the stones themselves."
"Any other ideas? Please! My fiancée's life depends on it."
"Sir, I regret to tell you: She has disappeared."
Ralph swallowed. So it was true. They had worked all afternoon. The area wasn't too large, so they should have found her by now. Victoria had returned to the village, accompanied by her chaperone. She was waiting for news. Somehow, Ralph didn't have the strength to tell her.
"Mr. Bones, I guess we all did what we could. I'd like you and the men to go home now, but to return tomorrow. Maybe everything will clear up and we'll find her."
"And what about you, sir?"
"I'll stay here and wait for her. If she reappears, I want to be near her."
"Fine. Sir, do you want me to get you some food and drink, maybe a tent?"
"That would be great." He turned to his manservant: "Rajif, go with him and bring everything back here. And be quick."
The dark-skinned man nodded:
"Right away, sir."
"Also, send this message to Myra's parents." He handed him a slip of paper.
Ralph turned away and walked through the stone maze, searching for his beloved.
__________________

After several days of searching, the locals had given up. Ralph was desperate. How could this horror have happened? He had known these hills for years, he had spent almost every vacation amidst these ancient stones, inventing adventure stories with his brothers and cousins, fighting imaginary dragons and rescuing princesses from them. Now that he had found his princess, the place had stolen her from him. Sadly, things were not as eazy as in his childhood anymore. There was no dragon to defeat, no wise man to ask... He blinked. Maybe there was a wise man to ask. Letting his eyes sweep the area one last time, he called for Rajif.
"Tell me, Rajif, is there a museum or archive of some sort at the village?"
"Sir, there is the church. They have the records of the whole area. What are you looking for?"
"Maybe Myra wasn't the first to disappear and we may find clues on where she might be."
Rajif shook his head and said:
"Sir, I do not wish to disappoint you or discourage you, but it might have been an accident. Maybe she fell down a hidden hole."
"This can't be! We searched the whole area several times. If she were here, we'd have found her. It must be something else."
"I am sorry, sir, but there can't be 'something else' as you put it."
"I know, but I can't give up hope. Besides, what else can I do?"
"We could return to London."
"But what if she returns?"
Rajif sighed. It was too early. He nodded.
"Let's look at the records. Maybe there is something there."

[El_Roy_1999]

Myra awoke at dusk. She lay on a thick rug, her head propped up on a thick roll of fabric. She was still fully dressed and her torn and dusty clothes clung to her. All around her, the people awoke and went about their evening routine. Two of the women made signs for her to come with them. She stood up groggily, cursing her tight clothes. They led her outside, where a large group of the women had set up a round folding screen. They were inside and giggled. Occasionally, a sharp hiss or whistle could be heard. The pair led her inside and showed her an enclosed space laid out with carpets. In the middle of the area was another strange device, this one vaguely reminescent of an elephant and a squid, but wrought from bronze and brass. The machine gave off sharp bursts of air that the women used to clean themselves. They were naked and clearly happy, blasting each other with compressed air. There was a faint smell in the air, reminding Myra of the spices of yesterday. The women who had led her inside quickly stripped of the few items of clothing they wore and smiled encouragingly. Myra blushed. Stripping her clothes in front of these... savages felt wrong. Their bodies seemed so strange: They were tattooed, their skin was pierced and their hair was braided strangely. She shook her head and tried to make them understand that she would have no part in this. The women ignored her protests and turned a stream of air on her, ruffling her already destroyed hairdress. Another burst went under her skirts, making them billow.

The other women laughed and came closer, wondering at the amount of clothing she was wearing. Finally, one of them stood in front of Myra and launched into a long-winded explanation. Myra had no idea what the other woman was talking about, but she decided she had enough. She just turned around and left them. Back outside, she saw that the people were already packing. Soon, the small tent-village had disappeared and the large animals were loaded with bales and jars. Eventually, the caravan was ready to leave. The man who had found her initially walked over to her and offered her a place to ride on one of the large flightless birds. She nodded and thanked him. The beast bent down and she started to climb on top of it. He stopped her with a word and handed her a large scarf. It was easily as long and broad as she was tall, even larger and was of the same make as the cloth the nomads wore. She thanked him and threw it over her shoulders, wearing it as a cape and and cowl. He gave her a wondering expression and waved one of the women to him. They talked in their language for a few moments, then the woman took the scarf and began expertly wrapping it around Myra. Seconds later, she was covered head to toe in the deep red fabric. It felt rather cozy and tight, while being cool and flexible at the same time. she admired herself in one of the large brass plates that were being loaded on one of the birds. She liked it. At the same time, her corset was digging deep in her sides again. She had wanted to loosen it earlier, but the lacing was still too well done. Josephine's perfectionism meant that she would need help to get rid of it. She didn't want to ask those people, though.

In the end, she climbed on the creature and rode side-saddle as good as she could. Once again, the light of the moons lit a strange, deserted landscape. As the caravan advanced, she realised that what she had taken for trees were actually strange polyps that grasped at the passing caravan amid a flock of bizarre medusae that floated through the air lazily. She marveled at the strange scenery and soon enjoyed the ride.

As the night grew long, Myra felt tired. Riding the beast was rather uncomfortable, its saddle not suited to her riding style. Also, the corset squeezed and cut her sides, making her whince whenever the beast shifted its weight. The hours went by and the caravan made no sign of stopping. Myra tried to stay in the saddle, but the more she tried to keep calm, the more uncomfortable it got. As the trek crossed a particularly uneven trail, she finally slipped. Grasping for the saddle's horns, she fell, landing on her bustle. She blushed awkwardly and tried to get back up. The beast squawked loudly and ran off. The other members of the caravan unslung their weapons, strange rifles and long sabres and knives. The man who had discovered her rode his bird to her and motioned her to get back to her beast. She scrambled up, jumped after it and propelled herself in the air. She could see the man's astonished look as she sailed over the caravan and landed on the bird. However, she missed the saddle and instead crashed into the ground. Clearly, she still wasn't used to her strange ability. She felt bruised and found it hard to get back up. The wanderers seemed panicked and scanned the area for hidden attackers. The place felt so peaceful that Myra found it hard to imagine any threat.
Then, the whole place exploded into violence.
Out of nothing, a huge creature appeared in the middle of the caravan. It howled, opening its three maws and sending a spray of saliva all around. It clambered out of the hole in the ground, thrashing around with its six legs and grabbed one of the birds, tearing it apart with an almost negligent gesture before throwing it down its gullet. The warriors fired their guns, which turned out not to be much more than some jezzails and flintlock pistols. The monster attacked, scattering the fighters and going in for the kill. It tore up another bird and rampaged across the caravan, throwing the beasts into a panic. Myra struggled to get on her feet. Clearly, her ankle was sprained, but she stood up valliantly and tried to suppress the pain.
"Stand up and think of England", she told herself.
The creature roared once more, devouring one of the fighters who had tried to wound it with his short sword. The blade landed right in front of Myra. She shied away from it. The beast turned its composite eyes towards her and attacked. She screamed, paralysed by the sheer insanity. One of the warriors shouted a warning. Just as she could see her own reflection in the monster's eyes, she snapped out of it and tried to jump out of the way. Instantly, she propelled herself up in the air, realising that the horror had missed her. She fell back down, her dress billowing under her. She landed on it, right next to the torn-up carcass of a desert warrior. She gasped for air as the beast twisted on itself, turning towards its unexpected rider. Myra stared at it in horror, but suddenly lost all fear. The creature launched its head at her, but she just pulled the dead man's large knife from its sheeth and lounged forward herself. She had no idea what she was doing, but she was amazed by what happened next. The knife bent and splintered, but it went through the creature's body like warm butter. As she pushed on, the monster started screaming in pain, showering her with its intestines, but she drove on, unable to stop anyway. As she emerged from the torn carcass, the beast thrashed around in its death-throes.
The young woman dropped from the dying monster, landing on the hard ground. She tried to get back up, but it was pointless. Instead, the desert people came and carried her to safety.

[El_Roy_1999]

 

[El_Roy_1999]

Myra woke up in a tent. She needed a few seconds to realise that she was still in this strange place she had been transported to. The room was surrounded by darkness emitted by the wooden devices she had seen before. As she tried to get up, one of the women came over and made calming noises. She pointed at her leg and said something in her strange language. Myra nodded. It was clear what she was trying to say. Her leg was bruised or sprained and she had to keep still. Only then did she realise that she was naked. She only had a blanket to cover herself and looked down at her pale body. There were bruises all over her and she had lost her corset, bustle and pantaloons. She felt liberated but also exposed. The naked woman in front of her, her skin covered in abstract tattoos and pierced by small bars and rings wasn't helping either. Myra pulled the blanket back up. The woman showed an expression of disinterest and continued her work. She was preparing a dish and drink of some sort.
Once she was done, she gave it to Myra. Once again, the food was very spicy and the drink bitter-sour, but she was so hungry that she devoured it anyway. As she ate, she slowly remembered what had happened. The fight had been so fast that it had turned into a blur in her imagination. She had no idea how it could have happened that she should move so fast and strike down such a large beast, but she knew that she was able to overcome the planet's attraction easily. Maybe the strange conditions on this foreign world were such that her frail woman's body was stronger here than any man's on earth. She blushed at the thought. The situation made her feel ashame. Of course, she had heard of the amazons of old, of Joan of Arc and even of the Indian warrior woman, but all these were, well, either from primitive cultures or ancient times. The idea of a woman rising up to become akin to a man felt wrong. On the other hand, she could still feel the exhileration of battle in her. She looked around, saw that the other woman had returned to her chores and made a few hesitant swinging and stabbing motions with her hand, as if wielding a blade. She giggled timidly.

[El_Roy_1999]

Ralph arrived at the village squares some time later. He got off his horse and bound it to a post. The church was sitting there in front of him. It was a squat, ancient building, assembled from rough stones and crudely mortared. One of the ethnographers who had come here from London had told the impressed villagers that the building probably predated the arrival of Christianity. The vicar had frowned upon this idea, but had accepted the excavations nearby. Still, he was no friend of all that modern stuff.
The young man stepped inside the low, dark building, followed by his manservant. After a few moments, the priest appeared. He was ancient in the truest sense of the word, having christened Ralph's father before him and even his grandfather. The old man's hair had disappeared over the decades, leaving him with a wizened face and piercing dark eyes that could see the failures of every member of his flock. Still, the years had made him softer and he greeted the visitors friendly:
"Good afternoon, Ralph. Mr. Singh. How are you? Do you have news of your fiancée?"
"Good afternoon, Reverend. Nothing new, sadly. It is a horrible feeling to be powerless and to have no idea what might have happened to her."
The old man nodded:
"I understand. Well, you need to keep your faith." He smiled. "It is highly uncommon for people to disappear into thin air just like that. She will come back."
"I hope so. Reverend, as you just said, it is uncommon. Do you remember any similar case? We are looking for clues on what might have happened."
"I'm sorry. I would have remembered such an event. But still, it won't hurt to take a look at the archives if it keeps your mind from worrying."
"Thank you, Reverend."
"It's alright, follow me."
The old man led them into the vicarage. This house was younger than the church but still seemed as ancient as its inhabitant. Climbing up a narrow stairwell, the vicar led the two younger men to a small room full of shelves weighed down by leather-bound tomes. He gave them a tired smile and said:
"These are the documents. They should tell you everything that happened in our town and the surrounding villages over the last few centuries. I'd bring one of those electrical lamps here, if I were you. It will take some time."
Ralph and Rajif seemed a little daunted by the masses of paper in front of them. Still, what else could they do?

[El_Roy_1999]

Over the next nights, Myra rode in a howdah on top of some of the larger beasts of the caravan while her leg healed. She shared it with the older people and the children of the group. As the elders taught their pupils to speak, read and to write, she could learn too. Soon, she began speaking the language herself, slowly and clumsily at first, but after a few nights, simple things could be explained. The old people smiled at her, but she still didn't know whether it was a kind smile or one of contempt. Nonetheless, by the time the caravan reached the next settlement, she could talk a little and understand if people spoke slowly and clearly. As a result, she was visited by the man who had brought her to the caravan in the first place. She wore the red scarf that was customary, using another white cloth to cover herself since her dress hadn't survived the battle. The women had quickly cut open her corset, making it useless and had shared the other pieces of underwear amongst themselves. They regarded the corset as some kind of armour and had kept it for her. Myra still had nightmares of the battle she had been in. It wasn't her own bloodshed that made her sick. It was the sudden and terrible violence. She had grown up in a sheltered environment and knew of warfare only from books and newspapers. The idea of ending up in the middle of such a fight again scared her.
Meanwhile the man had sat down next to her and said:
"This man's name is Oras. He is glad to find this woman in good health."
She blinked as she processed what he said, then nodded and tried slowly:
"This woman's name is Myra. She is glad to find this woman... no, this man in good health."
He smirked, then continued:
"It is this man's understanding that this woman came from a place of great distance."
"His understanding is true. This woman is from a place called England."
"England? This man has no knowledge of such a place. The greatness of distance must be true indeed."
"This woman has no knowledge of the distance. She has no knowledge of the name of this place."
"This place's name is Kusat. It's nature is the city of proud merchants. This..." There were words Myra didn't understand, "is the purchase of food and drink and the sale of wares."
"It is a market."
"This is true. This man noticed this woman's strength in warfare. Is it that all women of the great distance's place are so strong in warfare?"
Myra took a while to understand, then replied:
"This woman was unaware of her strength in warfare."
"Yet this woman is stronger and faster than any warrior of the..." Here was this word again. Myra decided it meant 'tribe'. She hesitated. She didn't want to insult them. Also, the situation was strange for her. After all, she was meant to be a young woman and a devoted bride for Ralph. She missed him. Nowhere in her education or upbringing had anybody ever suggested that she should be a warrior. Also, the idea of her being stronger than a man seemed ridiculous.
She had seen a strongwoman once, in a circus. She had worn a lion's pelt and had been billed as "Herculine the Mighty". The whole scene had been awkward. The woman had those ridiculous muscles like a labourer and had done strange things, such as bending steel and throwing balls of cast iron. It had struck her as unfeminine and also derisive. They had paired her with a man from Africa who had danced around her. Her friends had laughed at her and pointed their fingers just like the other spectators. Myra had felt sorry. After the show, the group had gone to the rear of the big top to see the riding artists up close. They had been ridiculously handsome in their tight breeches. Amid all the giggling, the artists had smiled and even signed autographs. Now that she thought about it, she felt silly, but it was good to escape their chaperones for a moment. As they left, she saw Herculina, wearing simple trousers and a shirt. She didn't look as ridiculous then. She left, saluting the riders in broad cockney. Myra had wanted to talk to her, but the chaperones had returned and herded them back to the cabs.
Oras brought her back to this horrible reality:
"This man is uncertain of this woman's fate. Is this woman a free one?"
Myra was surprised by the openness with which the man asked her. She was engaged to Ralph. There was no question she would remain faithful. Also, these strange people had the most awful customs. They should have asked her father, not herself.
"This woman is not free. She is..." She fumbled for words, "given?"
The dark man nodded and said:
"This is true. There will be a decision."
He got up and left without a goodbye. She was quite surprised by this sudden turn of events. Had she insulted him?

[El_Roy_1999]

As Ralph and his manservant returned to his family's mansion, they noticed the carriage standing in front of it. Ralph immediately recognised Myra's family's arms. He walked as fast as he could, burdened by the records he had picked up at the church. He thought it more efficient to analyse the material at his home, where they had all the comforts of a modern study, including electrical light and a proper desk.
As he stepped into the hallway, he met Grace, the head maid. She lowered her head demurely and waited for him to speak.
"What is it, Grace?"
"It's Miss Myra's father, sir. He has arrived an hour ago and is waiting for you in the salon."
"Thank you. I recon he has been provided with food and drink?"
"Of course, sir."
"Very well then. Rajif, get these ledgers to my study, then come to the salon. There's a lot to talk about."
Rajif nodded and made off with the records. Ralph set them down where he stood and dusted himself off as good as he could. He adjusted his hair and stepped into the salon.
Inside, there was a large fireplace with a roaring blaze. The walls were still chilly at this time of the year and even though Ralph was used to the cold, he had ordered the staff to keep a fire for the duration of Myra's stay and her eventual return. The salon was a large, dark room with wood panelling and several hunting trophies fixed to the walls. He had planned to have it renovated and cleared up after their marriage, but everything was on hold for now.
Myra's father was sitting there, his large frame filling the armchair. He got up as soon as Ralph walked in and walked over to him. His movements were slow and rather unsure, he seemed to have aged awfully over the last week. Ralph took his hand and waited. The old man straightened and asked:
"Ralph. Is it true? Has she disappeared? Where is my daughter?"
The young man took a deep breath and replied:
"I'm sorry, sir, but I couldn't find her. We sent out all the servants and the labourers, but there is no trace of her."
"How could this happen? You were responsible for her safety. You were to marry her!"
"Once again, sir, I regret it, but I have no idea where she could have gone. We looked everywhere, as her chaperone will have told you."
"Yes, she did, damn the woman. You trust her with the life of your own flesh and blood and she fails you. What should we do?"
"Of course, we continue the search and you may come along if you wish..."
"Damn well, I do! I will hire the best scouts I can find to save her or... at least have the certainty..." His voice trailed off.
Ralph shook his head.
"I cannot think about this. I am sure she is somewhere. Sir, I have taken the records from the church and will look for a similar case in the past. Maybe it has happened before and we will have a clue."
"Good idea. Let's not give up. And if this amounts to nothing, still, we'll get an investigator from London. There should be someone we can use there!"
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[El_Roy_1999]

The next week, the caravan arrived at a large city. By now, Myra had noticed that the group also traveled in the early hours of dawn. Clearly, the sun was no longer such a strong concern. She was riding on the howdah and the old women had opened the curtains to allow her to see their next station. She was impressed. The city was a true metropolis, framed by a massive set of red stone walls. There were towers and battlements on it, all carved out of the bedrock. As the beasts approached the city gates, she saw that they were decorated with elaborate carvings of strange beasts. There were animals resembling lions with six legs and the torso of a man, there were four-armed , spindly men and even the white apes she had met when she arrived. On top of the whole ensemble was a statue of a person that was clearly meant to be a king or even a god. He had a stern face and bore a sword and a rifle.
Once inside, she realised that the entire settlement was carved out of the same rock. It reminded her of the city of Petra. She had recently read about it in a book and had been amazed by the print. Now that she was in an entire metropolis of this style, she was overwhelmed. There were bridges above the streets, spanning entire buildings. High in the air, large birds were flying, filling the air with their songs. Although the city was just as dry as the countryside, there were waterways and parks. People were enjoying the cool water of the evening and people were lighting bluish lamps. Myra couldn't stop watching. She was surprised that the citizens did not wear the same red scarves the nomads were wearing but instead opted to wear only jewelry or simple white shawls. She blushed at their nakedness, but was fascinated at the same time.
When the caravan finally reached its destination, the nomads started unloading their wares. She walked over to Oras. Her leg had healed by now and she felt relaxed. He was directing some men as they used a crane to lower a huge bale of fabric from the back of one of the beasts. She waited for him to see her and said:
"This woman seeks to help. Is there work to be done?"
Without looking, he said:
"This work is not a woman's."
She shrugged and wanted to explain that she didn't mean to help unload but to do something more feminine, but at this moment, the rope tore and the bale went down. Reacting intuitively, she pushed Oras out of the way, propelling him thirty feet away. She jumped up, catching the falling mass and bringing it down gently. She stood there for a second, the huge bale held high above her. It felt ridiculously light. She set it down and blushed as she realised that everybody was looking at her.
"This woman will now retire..."

[El_Roy_1999]

Over the next days, Ralph pored over the ancient tomes, employing every person in the household that could read to try and find any clues of previous disappearances. The various servants and workers stood, sat and laid in the house, checking for any signs. The household ground to a halt, many duties were neglected and soon, Ralph looked quite dishevelled. He hardly slept and ate little. He tolerated no interruptions of his work and even stopped shaving. His jaw was soon covered in stubbles and his hair lost its well-groomed shape. Soon, he looked like a fanatical scholar and in a way, he was.
From time to time, one of the readers called him, when he or she found something of interest, but a quick examination proved each case irrelevant. Either the servant had misread or the situation cleared up a few weeks later in the chronicle. The further they descended into history the less legible the words became and the more readers gave up. In the end, only Ralph, his steward, the head maid and Rajif remained. Squinting at the miniscule writing, there were still no mysterious disappearances.
The young man was beginning to loose all hope, when the maid cried out.
"Sir, there's something that might be it!"
Ralph looked up haggardly. He had just skipped a detailed explanation of the turnip crop of some long forgotten year and walked over to her. The others shrugged and continued.
"So what is it?"
"It says there: 'The men of the king came to take all the books on the disappeared man. They forbade me to record this, but the will of the Almighty is greater than the will of any king. They took the books to London for examination. I wonder why they did not burn them if they do not want the people to know. But truly, Stephen the miller's son has disappeared in thin air as if taken by angels.' That's it! Sir, we found it!"
Rajif had stood up and said:
"It seems to be the same, but what do we make of it?"
Ralph re-read the part and answered:
"We might need the help of someone who really knows his old books."

[solitariodude]

Meanwhile, back on Mars...
Thanks for finding the time

[El_Roy_1999]

After a few days in the city, Myra's host said:
"This man has found a..." Here was another word Myra didn't understand. He continued: "This person will take care of this woman as is to be expected."
Myra gave him a doubtful look.
"Has this woman done a thing to displease this man? Is this relationship fraught with conflict? Has this woman no longer a place in this man's household?"
"This woman has done no thing to displease. Yet, this man has no right on this woman. This man is but the..." Myra was getting angry with herself. Another missing word. "This woman will be able to work to her best abilities."
The young woman scowled. What was Oras trying to say? Clearly, she would no longer be part of the caravan and stay here. She appreciated this, after all, the constant traveling was tiresome and dangerous. Maybe he had found her a position as a governess or even as a secretary. This would give her an opportunity to finally understand where she was. Not being on Earth was one thing that was clear, but she had to find out how to get back.

The next day, Oras hired a palanquin to ride to their appointment. The women had spent the day preparing Myra for the meeting. They had been quite unhappy with the fact that she wore none of their strange jewelry, nor had the bizarre holes that this would have required and deplored the fact that her skin was not appropriately decorated, but still adjusted her robes as good as they could. Watching herself in the reflection of a polished brass shield, Myra had been astonished by the exotic, yet pale woman that looked back. In a certain way, she had felt transported to the Arabian Nights. When she had been ready, the women bade her farewell. She was aware that they were sad, but she felt elated: Finally, she would be able to understand.
The ride in the palanquin had been dreadfully slow. The bearers had a lot of difficulties to maneuver through the crowded streets and Oras had to swat off some beggars to stop them from trying to climb on their litter. Eventually, she saw a large house appear in front of them. It was an enormous building, a mansion or palace, with lavish gardens and statues around. There were no fences, yet people prefered to walk outside. Myra guessed that the large guardians that patroled the gardens and the gates were responsible for this. As she saw their well-formed bare chests, she felt a little light-headed, but she shook herself and prepared for the visit. If she made a good impression, she might pave her way back to Earth and finally rejoin Ralph. She missed him dearly, hoping that he was able to bear his loss and not give in to despair.