(Coming soon – a time line of events)
She woke up in a cage. Concrete, bars on one side and a single metal toilet, a camera in the corner makes a ‘whirring’ sound every few moments. It looked like every prison cell she’d ever seen in the trids. She was naked. There was some gauze and bandages over her recent wounds.
She couldn’t focus. Every few moments it was like her brain reset. She had no idea of the time passing simply because her thoughts couldn’t hold together for more than a moment. Astral projection was impossible. The world would start to fade and then Snap! She’d be right back in the cell.
Drugs, she thought.It has to be drugs.
She waited, nervous and scared.
Images seemed to flash but she couldn’t make sense of them without the ability to concentrate; A beautiful elven man with long silver hair, human mercs and a troll.
It must be the drugs. The troll was peeking at her. He said something once but when she tried to sit up and reply she fell over and that seemed to scare him. He ran off. She glimpsed his shirt.
Vince Valiant? Space Merc?
Wasn’t that some kind of kids trid show?
After a while she was taken out of the cell, strapped to a chair and wheeled in to another room. The beautiful elf was there – taunting. She wasn’t sure about what; only the arrogance of his voice came through the haze. The elf injected her with a blue substance.
The worlds seemed to come together.
“She seems ready.” He said to no one.
The sound of a door opening behind her.
A chubby little man hurriedly came in to her field of view.
“Hello! What is my name.” he laughs with innocent delight. He looks like Santa Clause. Cherubic face and a snow white beard. He is putting a lab coat on.
“She’s a mage.” the elf mentions as he stands up and puts his face close to hers.
“Be a good little humanis and you just might live to talk about it.” He finds this funny and laughs out loud. Then a look of disgust crosses his elven features and he smacks her across the face.
Santa Clause wheels some equipment up to her chair.
“You know I read one of your papers you wrote a few years ago on surgery in ancient cultures. It was well written but from a purest point of view I must say…”
He was hooking up leads and checking monitors. His voice continued in a cheerful, friendly tone.
“…don’t’ feel the Mesoamericans had a better grasp of what is now modern accepted techniques then anyone else. In the South Pacific, for example, there were several tribes who had a supreme and sublime grasp of human anatomy. Almost as if…”
Her eyes tried to follow his hands as he started hooking up wires. She involuntarily started to hyperventilate. She tried to speak.
“No, no, my dear. Please – at this precise moment don’t’ over tax yourself. We must get to know each other first. Well I did enjoy your work. It showed genuine insight.”
Pain shot up her spine. She cried out and gasped when it stopped.
“See? I’ve just learned something about you. How about this?”
Her left eye almost jumped out of her socket as a lance – white hot- reached every area of the eye. When the pain subsided it settled to an ache in her jaw.
“I’ll tell you anything…” she gasped, “please…”
I’m not interested in anything right now. Just feeling my way around – as they say.”
Santa and the elf laughed. The old man pulled out a slender instrument and moved closer to her face, the hand with the instrument lowering out of her field of vision going below, the blue eyes twinkling.
“Now here is something you may find interesting…”
From the Professor –
The numerous references to the ‘Cyclic Order’ he believes a reference to the Ring Cycle or the a series tales of a cursed treasure in Scandinavian folklore.
“The Ring Cycle” of operatic fame.
Straight German Translation is: Zyklische Reihenfolge
Or for Ring Cycle: Ring Zyklus.
However he believes this is a mistranslation. an occurrence when the literal translation doesn’t or can’t cover the actual translation, or when the translator isn’t aware of social or historical nuisances that chance the meaning of certain words.
In this case the Ring Cycle is a curse on mankind. The Volstag family, blessed by Woden, is brought low by the All Father and the passing of the power of the family from one generation to another is intergral to the story. In addition the curse or the ring or cursed treasure being passed from one generation to another ties the story together,
In ancient Swedish the Ring cycle is translated as: Winen Zyklus.
Or Winter Ring. Or, as it appears in latter texts: Winen Nacht.
Now anyone will tell you that in the European languages the adjective comes before the noun. (Whitehouse – Casablanca) However as you will note this is not the case – or as the professor disagrees; in this case the noun is in the right place and the noun is the ‘Night’, ‘Winter’ describing ‘Night’.
An in ancient Swedish or Norse mythology there is only one place/time that this translation might fit: the Winter Night of the Gods that takes place after the death of Balder the god of summer or as it is better known – Ragnarok.