Visitation
This Myst/Riven tale is loosely based on "A Christmas Carol" by Charles Dickens. Dec, 2000 by Salar
Visitation is set just prior to the events of the Myst & Riven games. Catherine has not arrived. Gehn & the people of Riven already fear that the Fifth Age is once again on a path of decay. His followers beg him to use his magic on their behalf, but Gehn is between despair and desperation. For all he had learned about the Art, for all his experiments, he has not yet succeeded in creating a working link.
It is when we are at our lowest that we most clearly hear the call of grace....
(If we ever will)Riven image (c) Cyan Worlds, Inc. All rights reserved. christma-fying by Salar :)
The smoke swirled lazily upward toward and through the ornate brass girders. There it rebounded hazily off the rough textured ceiling, joining the ever increasing fog of frog smoke that lightly filled the lab room. Gehn watched its motion dazedly. Had it always been like this, he thought in a confused fashion. Had his joys always been thus? It seemed like there ought to be more to life than trying to teach sense to ignorant savages, than seeking his pleasures in a pipe of forgetfulness.
Perhaps it was simply the price being of such a high heritage. Rulers had a duty to their subjects to raise them from their rabble state. He was helping as his family had ever done, reaching out to downtrodden, showing them the way.
A disconnected thought came to him. If he were among Earths surface dwellers it would be Christmas tomorrow, he realized. More foolish traditions of superstitious primitives, he supposed. Still.... this thought seemed to haunt him. It is Christmas. The time for the self-sacrificing saviour to come to the world as a helpless, merciful child deity and shine redemptive grace on all who would receive it.
Suddenly he felt angry, even sorry for himself. Such gifts were not for him! All he ever loved...valued had been destroyed. What mercy was there for him? What sacrifice had there EVER been for him? In any case, his people didnt believe in such nonsense! He puffed in a long draught...and choked on the acrid brew in his brass Dni-an hooka. Soon the room was filled with fresh smoke clouds rolling slowly to the walls, while Gehn lolled lopsidedly in his chair, barely concious.
Tonight it seemed that the more he sought to forget, the more memories crowded upon him, insistent in their demands upon his attention. His vision wavered into the hanging haze. In its cloudy tendrils he seemed to see Gemedet, in all its peaceful glory.He sighed in spite of himself for the green beauty of it, the gracious house built there.... If only he could write Ages like that here and now!
