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 Posted: Thu Aug 16, 2007 9:55 pm
The Fe: The people who reside in the westernmost garden which Toucan named "Fe." Although Toucan is generally not thought of as a leader she is a source of knowledge, both intellectual and material, since mechanics and metal would not be able to be harnessed without her presence. In general, meaningless conversation and other forms of extended emotionality are frowned upon by the people who hold efficiency as the highest of all pursuits. The Fe are cordial and well-kept, finding otherwise to lend itself to chaos and disarray.
They do, however, greatly value intellectual discourse and growth. When not patiently and methodically developing alloys or new techniques, the Fe converse in soft tones on various topics of philosophical importance to them.
The Culture: The Fe make do mostly with what their current resources are since Toucan has not interacted with any of the other Exiles, the craftsman aside. Alpine plants similar to flax are harvested with machines and spun on metal looms to make crisp linen clothing which is always kept clean. Fish from the springs and tubers are the food staple of Fe and wine is often made from the many mountain flowers. Excessive adornment and entertainment is not required for the Fe, since they value each other and knowledge of mechanics above all else.
The Technology: Growing at an exceedingly fast rate, the scientifically-minded culture naturally begets technology. It is the focus of their existence, since it is necessary to overcome the innate inefficiencies of nature.
Skyscraper-like structures clash peculiarly with the otherwise simplistic mountain culture and machines are everywhere. The buildings in Fe are among the highest in the world and are being built upon every week. It is all in a very concentrated area, however, since the rate at which ore can be refined is held back by a limited ability to handle fire since it is not Toucan's gift.
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Posted: Mon Aug 27, 2007 9:02 pm
Toucan had long since returned to Fe, her attempts at rallying Ember and Dessande proving unsuccessful. Things were falling into an entropic state of disarray; the exile was even more taciturn and distanced which caused mechanics to naturally slow, despite the Fe's exceedingly high logical intellect.
Weeks now she had been in the mountains, brooding on her own between two great boulders, staring over the valley with bloodshot, intensely, almost insanely focused eyes. She had needed the other exiles-- without them, her plans could not occur. Toucan fumed and brooded over her inability to provide everything she needed herself; her hand even strayed once or twice toward the amulet meant to call the Craftsman, but somehow she never could. In her severely depressed state, the mechanic needed to prove to herself she could provide for herself and the Fe.
Yet she could not, and over the weeks Toucan grew more emaciated and mentally unstable. Scouts from the Fe ceased to approach her after harsh rebukes and steely glares. Her hands now fumbled nonstop with the piece of metal yet formed nothing. Nothing would come to mind for her to invent. She was at a dead stand-still.
One day the exile managed to will herself to get up and walk about and as she was doing so noticed a curious type of ore in the normal, blackish strains that populated the rocks. Upon closer inspection it appeared to be a dark red, mottled colour with an uneven surface. Something about this compound interested the exile intensely-- she could sense its properties were drastically different than that of normal ore. Reaching a pale, shaky hand out, Toucan at first tentatively touched then stroked the odd metal, willing it out of the rock into a thin reddish stream which deposited itself gently in her hand.
She stared at it for a long time, her expression motionless. Then, with a motion as quiet and unexpected as a butterfly opening its wings, Toucan smiled for the first time in weeks.
I've found it.
Tears streamed down her face as she held it, the metal which would later be called mercury, the metal which would save the Fe from sure entropy and chaos. It didn't matter now whether she had the other exiles-- nothing mattered now that she had this.
Toucan's first inclination was to bring the rock to the Fe and she had even started sprinting down the trail, laughing with glee, before stopping abruptly. The laugh died in empty echoes vibrating throughout the mountains. She regarded the metal and then tore her gaze away to sweep across the landscape of mountainous Fe and the surrounding desert, some of the other gardens barely visible on the horizon.
No. It's time for them to carry this on, now.
A forlorn smile slowly etched its way across Toucan's face as she realized what she had to do; the only path she could take-- the only way she could truly be with the Fe and their progress.
Slowly she brought the piece of metal, which she had christened cinnibar, to her lips, her eyes closing as though she were sharing an intimate kiss. As soon as the ore grazed her skin, the previously dusty rose shade of her lips took on the same colour as the cinnibar. Quickly the colour spread to the rest of her face and down her body, which stiffened as she allowed her body to be permanently formed into metal. The ground below her seemed to leak red as though from an ink pen and the form that was previously Toucan the exile melted into the ground.
As soon as the last of her disappeared, the reddish hue of the ore seemed to dissolve as well, its veins spreading toward all the rocks and boulders and crevices of all the mountains, populating the area richly with the rare compound. As the sun set, the reddish and silver veins glowed richly, twinkling in a seemingly playful way.
I'll always be with you.
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