33.   The Patternwalk (From Elektra’s Memoir)

 

It was already late when Fiona pulled us through into her quarters, so I did not get to spend much time with Scarlett before we both were sent to bed.  Most annoying for a girl of sixteen and about to walk the Pattern to be treated this way, but when her father had a face like this, she would rather not argue.  I was glad I had done bathing and brushing at home, as no one was sent to attend me, and I had not been allowed to bring my own girls, not even Viss.  It was hard of course to fall asleep in anticipation of tomorrow, but finally I read myself into it.  I think it was “Thermodynamics” by Enrico Fermi, but do not recall for sure.  

 

The knock on the door came very early.  Dad gave me a silent nod when I joined him and Fiona, and lowered his eyes back to the table.  He looked as if he had no sleep at all.  I did not feel like doing much talking either, so Fiona talked for all of us as she poured coffee into her exquisite demitasses.  I wondered idly why there never seemed to be servants around, but I did not pursue the matter.  By that time, I was getting more and more alarmed.  It was apparent Dad was not himself, and, from what I knew about Fiona, she seemed unnaturally agitated.  I had been taught that any one of blood could walk the Pattern, and, while it was not easy, there were no documented cases of failure and… its consequences.  So what was going on?

 

Dad got up abruptly, almost spilling his unfinished coffee.  “It must be done, so we might as well start on it.” 

 

“Just wait here for a few minutes, Brand,” Fiona grabbed my arm, retreating to her private chambers, me in tow.  She was still talking nonstop, something inconsequential, while she rummaged trunks in her wardrobe.  My head was starting hurting.  Finally she produced a white dress and a pair of white silk shoes.

 

“Here, Ele!  Put it on, darling.  I wore this dress when I first walked the Pattern.”

 

Wow, it must be millennia old then.  I said nothing of the kind of course, and the dress seemed rather well preserved. I felt my green tunic and trousers were quite appropriate for the occasion, but I was rather touched and did not wish to upset Fiona by refusal.  The dress fit almost perfectly, we are of the same height after all, perhaps the top was just a little bit loose, as her chest is somewhat fuller and I suppose had always been.  There was a definite problem with shoes, my feet being at least a size smaller, but my green ones did not match and I felt I could still walk so I did not say anything.  I caught a smirk on Dad’s face when I re-emerged in my new outfit.  I must have looked a lot like Fiona of the old days.

 

We walked the Castle’s corridors in silence – even Fiona shut up.  At that early hour we met no one.  I am not very familiar with the Castle, I think we passed a large dining hall of marble and some dark corridors thereafter.  We reached a heavy door where a guard saluted Fiona and Dad and gave me an odd look.  He did not say anything however, just opened it for us.  We descended a long winding stairs dimly lit by lanterns set along the walls at intervals of 30 feet or so.  In Fiona’s white dress, I felt like a sacrificial virgin.  I did lose my footing once or twice, but Dad would catch me in time.  The staircase only seemed endless, so we finally reached the bottom.  I think we headed to the right through a tunnel, then turned into a side passage, and then there was another heavy metal-bound door.  Dad unlocked the door with a large key he took from the hook in the wall and pushed it open.

 

We were in a large chamber, perhaps 200 yards long and more than 100 yards wide.  There it was, taking up nearly the entire room – The Grand Pattern of Amber glowing pale-blue in the black polished floor.  It resembled an intricate maze of the kind one might draw on paper.  There were curves and straight lines and tangled branches.  There was a single straight line leading into the Pattern, which started near the place we were standing close to the doorway.  When I looked at my father, he was whiter than the dress I was wearing.  It dawned on me that he was scared to death, and that it was the first time ever I had seen him so.  Fiona was biting her lips, her eyes filled with tears.  The chamber was not cold, but I started shivering.  We were standing just a few paces from the door, but we all knew there was no return.

 

In total silence, I stepped on the line.  My left shoe slipped again and I almost fell.  As I regained my balance and made another step forward, I felt a sudden irresistible impulse.  I kicked off the shoes and proceeded barefoot.  I heard Fiona’s gasp and, in the peripheral vision, I saw my father reaching to pull me off but it was too late, I was well on my way into the First Veil.

 

It was like moving through rising water.  I had to press forward harder and harder.  My feet felt warmth at first, then heat, then pain…  I was walking on broken glass mixed with flaming coals.  I saw tiny sparks around my feet.  The resistance subdued somewhat as I made it though the First Veil and stepped on a long curve leading out, but the pain in my feet became unbearable.  I was on a verge of passing out, which of course meant my death sentence, when I felt a presence in my mind, so overwhelming that I forgot all about pain in my burnt feet that were still mechanically moving along the curve.  I do not have the words to describe that presence, but at that moment I knew that not only the Pattern accepted me, it recognized me... and I recognized the Pattern.  I was sure at the time that I had never walked the Pattern before, but nevertheless, the design became intimately familiar.  I was taking turns without looking.  In fact, I could have walked it with my eyes closed…

 

There was no pain.  The sparks were still shooting off, but they were not hurting my feet, rather tingling them gently.  The resistance was still there and actually increasing as I was approaching the Second Veil, but I knew it was not testing me, it just had to be there.  On my way toward the Final Veil, I passed through a swirling filigree of fire, but the floor under my feet remained cool and comfortable to touch.  I felt a heat flash changing into freezing cold as I navigated the Grand Curve, but it was gone in a few moments.  Pressure resumed, somewhat, while I was making turn after turn slowly approaching the Final Veil, but it was rather pleasant.  My body was bathing in energies rising all around me, I drunk the ozone-filled air.  The entity sharing my mind with was not overwhelming any longer; it was gentle and loving… 

 

I had been told that an enormous effort would be required to overcome the pressure in the Final Veil.  I cannot honestly say whether or not it was so.  By the time I made it into the Final Veil, I reached the highest level of exaltation.  There was an indescribable feeling of limitless power.  There were multitudes upon multitudes of places and beings flashing through my mind ever faster, until it all merged into one pulsating light…  Then – and I am still not sure whether or not it actually happened – for some infinitesimal fraction of a moment I saw the Universe as it really was…

 

When I regained my senses, I was already in the center.  I could clearly see the room now.  Dad and Fiona were still by the doorway, both visibly shaken, clasping each other hands.  I smiled to them weakly and I heard Fiona’s whisper “I told you so”, as they both sighed with relief.  It did not occur to either one to pick up my shoes.  They were still laying where I had left them – no more than 50 yards or so away actually.  I was very calm by then and very drained.  At the same time I felt more at peace than I ever felt before… or after.  I fought an urge to retrace my steps back.  I had no doubt that the Pattern would let me and perhaps it would even show me more wonders, but I knew there would be other times and I was too tired.  I visualized Fiona’s private reception room, as I had been taught, and found myself there.  I wished I had some time alone to sort it all out, but Dad and Fiona did not leave me much.

 

Dad did retrieve the shoes, but they both examined my feet rather closely before letting me put them back on.  There was no trace.  No burns, no wounds, not even a smallest scar.  They made me repeat my story three or four times in every little detail.  Finally, it was agreed that my experience, with allowable personal variations, did not differ much from that of others… except for the shoes.  But I did not tell them everything.  I was not quite sure myself about the Universe, and I did not feel like talking about the mutual recognition part.  After all, they were hiding something from me as well.  What was that I told you so supposed to mean?  And why had Dad been so afraid to begin with?

 

As for the shoes, I could provide no clue, except of them being too large.  Fiona got extremely upset, blaming herself for not thinking straight, but mostly me for not telling in time – I was a foolish girl, I was lucky to live through it, I was to never do such things again – all that kind of stuff.  I suggested that the Pattern had actually wanted me to, and further suggested that it would either let one walk it or it would not, regardless of one’s protections or lack of same, but they did not seem convinced.  I was commanded to never mention it to anyone, lest they get … ideas – an order I have complied with till now, but these notes would have no value unless completely truthful.  At last, they realized that I needed some rest, and I was allowed to retire to my room, which I thought would never happen.

 

Dad did not let me rest for long, it was well before dark when we left for home, which did not make me very happy as I was looking forward to spending some more time with Scarlett.  I sensed Dad had second thoughts about having had brought Fiona into all that, but it was too late anyway, so why not stay a little longer.  Not much I could do though, the time of my own decisions was yet to come.

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