I, Solonor Turasithel

\section{Introduction}

 Just as it is the deepest winter of the land, I am now in my winter, and it
is only a matter of time before I must depart to make way for the spring.
Every day, my hands grow a bit colder and number, my heart grows slower, my
eyes dimmer.  But I must remain until I complete my final confessions, then I
will depart this world in peace.  Even as I write, I must periodically stop
to catch my breath or cough up blood.  Such is the life of one outside of
Einsheim, or to the people out here, Sithel.  I would much rather die here
from age and disease and suffer than to live the blessed-cursed life in
Einsheim, for among the Lythari, I have lived a full life.

\subsection{Einsheim}
 I have very few memories of my earliest days, but I know that I was
designed from mixing and matching a pool of genetic code, then built in
the Neuesmensch lab through biochemical reactions.  Each person was
designed to fit a specific role in Einsheim -- these were designated as
numbers.  The smaller the number, the closer you were to Das Fuhrer (I
know it's wrong in the old language, but Das Fuhrer has transcended
gender) in terms of what your life-quest was.  But in the end, everyone
was equal in the eyes of Das Fuhrer because whether you were developing
new ways to strengthen unity and improving the people or serving as
sentry to prevent the outside from coming in, you were still an
essential part of the community.  The community was one body, everyone
was unified, just as envisioned by early Christians.

I myself was created as 4012, a respectable number, and the builder of
the Nintegrator, a device which we would one day use for the final
unification.  Not only would we be free of innate chaotic tendencies and
free us of the need to undergo periodic chaos removal treatments, but we
would also spread the unification around the world.  It was believed
that the key to removing chaos from a person was to remove its source --
the soul.  Without the soul, the only voice to guide the person would be
that of Das Fuhrer, and there would be no desire to follow one's soul,
no desire to dissent or to be independent of the body.  Certainly
uniqueness would remain through our unique numbers and roles, but
that is different from independence.


\subsection{A Typical Day}
 
Unlike the olden days with 24 hour days, we divide our days into 16
segments called stunden.  We rise at the first stunde and pledge our
allegience and gratitude to Das Fuhrer.  Then we break for breakfast and
our daily unification exercises, which consists of several isometric
stretches that emphasized symmetry.  Breakfast is biscuits and some kind
of drink specially designed by the Essenmenschen to provide us with a
third of our daily nutritional requirement.  Once breakfast and exercise
are finished halfway through the first stunde, we leave our communal
barracks to go to our workplaces.

By the way, the barracks are arranged such that it is one great building with
only walls to support the structure, but it is completely open.  In the
barracks are bunk beds arranged in perfect lines to create a box of 100 by
100 by 4.  There is a communal shower in the southern end.  Unlike
showers from the outside world, there are no barriers, nor are there any
barriers for the toilets.  There is no privacy here, for privacy breeds
chaos and individualistic thoughts.  Here, we see everything of each
other, nothing is hidden.  Such is the way of a truly functioning body.

\subsection{Work}

My workplace is a prism, twenty by twenty by fifteen meters.  I go to my
chair, which is perfectly sculpted to fit the sinusoidal waves and
parabolas that form my body.  There are no forms in here that cannot be
defined by a mathematical function: straight lines, spheres, ellipses,
parabolas, and more.  All of the walls are a pure and clean white that
reminds me of the ultimate goal -- to integrate every color in the
spectrum into one beam of light.  In the heart of the room is the
Nintegrator, my beloved device.  It is a pyramid, sixteen square meters
at the base, three meters high with a window halfway up the wall.  This
window can open up to let the laser emerge.  

The laser comes from a steel cylinder that can swivel ninety degrees.
The light that emerges is invisible, but tests in the Gehirnwasche
department indicates that direct exposure for two seconds or more will
destroy the cells in the brain that constitute the soul and spirit.  It
hasn't been installed yet, but once the receptacle for the source is
installed, the laser will be functioning and Einsheim will finally
become truly united, the individual quenched forever.  I am still
working on the overall structure to protect the laser from any possible
outside tampering when we bring the device forth to take over the world.  

Most of the day is devoted to perfecting the Nintegrator, whether it is
in working at my desk on blueprints and calculations, or actually
building up the device.  Actually, I only give orders; the
10,000-11,000's are the ones who do the constructions and fabrications
of parts.  These people are built perfectly for the job: muscular enough
to lift and move the parts, and have a powerful sense of mechanics that
exceeds even mine.  Their hands are weathered, innured to the hard
metals and plastics, and the devices we use to tame them, yet the retain
the nimbleness that rivals even that of the ones who supply precision
parts to Einsheim.  At the sixth stunde everyone pauses for a quarter of
a stunde for Mitteltagspause, where we eat another biscuit, drink
another draught of the drink, and reflect on the unity Das Fuhrer has
brought us.

At the end of the workday, at the end of the ninth stunde, I dismiss the
Mechanikers and close up shop.  It is the will of Das Fuhrer that work and
the rest of the day are separated.  I now have three stunden to do as I
please.  This is what Das Fuhrer has designated as Spasszeit.  Typically, I
will go and meld with my fellow Einsheim citizens at the Einskirche.  This is
what the majority of people will do, but as a way to maintain free will,
there are other activities.  Let me speak of the Einskirche before I tell you
about other activities.

\section{Einskirche}

The Einskirsche is a perfect sphere with radius 50 meters in the heart
of Einsheim.  It is the largest building anywhere, and it is the epitome
of geometrical perfection.  Inside is a central column with radius 5
meters made of clear glass.  Within this column is a helix, much like a
DNA strand, and although it is hard to see, there is a hole large enough
to let a human through at in the center onto an invisible glass
platform.  It looks as if people on that platform were somehow
levitating, and this symbolizes our enlightened state and that we can
still improve.  At the bottom half are exhibits of the past: pictures,
books, music boxes, weapons, and mannakins fully clad in fashions of
ages past.  They are all horrendously individualistic, no unity, no
order, only chaos.  At the top is a set of pictures of buildings and
geometric shapes to represent our future in pure order.

I go up to listen to the wisdom of Fuhrermund, the Mouth of Das Fuhrer.  ``We
are drawing ever nearer to perfection with every passing day! The end of the
individual is within sight now.  The Gehirnwaschern and the Nintegrators will
soon complete the Nintegrator, the device to integrate all of society into
one being, as was envisioned by the prophets of ancient days.  We will reach
heaven, where everyone is part of one body, working in perfect harmony.  Sin
and chaos will exist no more when the individual is extinguished by the
Nintegrator!'' said Fuhrermund, a wispy figure of a man clad in white with
white hair and ghostly pale skin.  He always reminded me of what I envision
angels in mortal form would be like.

After spending some stunden here, I return to my barracks to initiate
shutdown procedures and sleep from halfway through the twelfth until the
every end of the sixteenth, or the very beginning of the first.  Such is my
daily routine, but sometimes, I will deviate a bit, but that is to be
expected, since we still have some trivial choices to make in this state of
imperfection.  

\subsection{Kaoszimmer}

Some days I will go to the Kaoszimmer, which is the only imperfect
building in all of Einsheim.  It is multicolored with a lot of hues of
deep green, like the ancient forests, a blue reminiscent primeval skies
and seas, and a red that made me think of the individualistic passions
we seek to eliminate.  The green level represents the primitive world
and all of its practices; this is a history museum where relics of that
age still exist and we also are allowed to engage in uncouth habits such
as drinking, smoking, and other drugs, just to name some of the less
odious habits.  The blue level is an extension of the green, but with
more emphasis on the soul and spirit.  I find this level the most
intriguing and repulsive at the same time, yet I am always compelled to
spend time here and contemplate.  The final level, the red level, is
dedicated to sensuality, which is slowly being phased out.

In any event, I visit all three levels whenever I think that I'm in need
of a catharsis from that horrible thing called a soul.  There, what I
learned as a child is reinforced.  \textit{It is bad to have a soul.
Souls make people individualistic and that is bad for the whole.}
Although the red level provides the greatest pleasure with others who
also seek to purify themselves from such base urges, it is the blue
level that always catches my attention the most and provides the
greatest cleansing.  Little did I realize then what that would lead
to...

\section{Number 10666}

Who knows what could've happened if Number 10666 never came into my
life?  She was always a mystery to me.  Raven-haired, dark-skinned and
bluish-green eyed, she was a complete physical aberration in Einsheim.
I was and still am milky in color with only slightly darker hair and
pale hazel-eyes.  As a part of the Nintegrator team, 10666 was the one
who would lift those heavy slabs of metal and plastic for the others to
cut and mold.  I never talked to her at work except to give her orders,
which she obeyed with a grin that cut me more than if I had walked
straight into a giant saw.

The first time I talked to her was in the Einskirche.  As Fuhrermund
spoke she slid through the crowd to me, smiled one of those wicked
blades, then whispered in a voice reminiscent of a beast.  Which beast
-- I would say panther with her purring and that sense of feral spirit
that Einsheim strives to destroy.  The fine hairs on my arms stood up on
end as she spoke to me.  ``Do you truly believe what that gasbag is
saying?''  I froze and didn't respond.

I didn't see her for weeks, and I continued progress on the Nintegrator.
Bit by bit, the pyramid of perfection grew from a shell to an actual
device that would be ready to receive the laser from the Gehirnwaschern.
Then I felt a strange sense of chaos welling up within me and the soul
was starting to nag at my consciousness until work slowed down.  I knew
I had to go to the Kaoszimmer to relieve this base urge from my system.
Natural biological functions are welcome, but the soul is not.  As I
examined the exhibits, one in the blue section caught my eye.

It was that of a woman, but she was half-naked and had features similar
to that of one of those beasts outside.  What were they -- I racked my
minds, and recalled the word, ``panther''.  A solitary, individualistic
beast that symbolized independence and were said to be the souls of ones
who epitomized these traits.  She was accompanied by two children, a boy
and a girl, also very panther-like, and they were engaged in swordplay,
an ancient sport that was now relegated to this historical museum.  As I
mused over her and her family -- children were supposed to be raised by
the state, not the individual -- I felt claws piercing me.

I swung around to see 10666 standing right behind me, clad in a black,
form-fitting shirt and shorts.  She was ready to pounce on me, but
without a word, she led me up to the red section of the Kaoszimmer.  I
then notice how the black emphasizes her every curve, but they are not
mathematical in the sense of being able to applying a number of
equations to define her.  I cannot define her, like I could any other.
``Here, try this,'' she purred as she handed me a goblet of a deep red
fluid.

Reluctantly, I took a taste, making sure it was safe, and realizing that
I liked tasting something besides blandness, I finished the draught.
Fire went down my mouth and throat, but it was sweet and strong.  Warmth
spread through my body like the injections of health serum whenever I
felt sick.  Before I realized it, 10666 had me pinned down and what
transpired next reminded me of those sensualist books I had read about
how families came about in the ancient days.  Again, I could feel flames
going all through my body, starting at wherever she touched me.   I
don't remember much, but what we shared made me question everything I
had learned since I was a child.  Can the soul truly be destroyed? 

\section{The Lythari}

From then on, everytime I saw her at my workplace, a shiver would go up
my spine and I would remember the fire from her touch.  I spent more and
more time in the Kaoszimmer, both engaging in fleshly pleasures with
10666 and questioning the system I lived in as I pored over the relics
of the past.  Every encounter with 10666 melted something deep within,
so to speak.  I couldn't concentrate on working on the Nintegrator
unless I went to the Kaoszimmer.  I'm sure there were murmurings among
the Mechanikers about my state, but I didn't care, nor will I.

One day, as I was designing the navigation system of the Nintegrator, a
deep, familiar melodic voice spoke to me.  ``4012, you are spending far
too much in the Kaoszimmer, is everything all right? I have not seen you
in the Einskirche for three weeks.''

I turned around to see the Fuhrermund in his dazzling white robes of
utmost purity.  Yet there was something about him that made me want to
strangle him as he stood there.  But I restrained that vile urge and
replied cooly, ``I am doing fine, unusually chaotic times for me, all
that excitement and stress of developing the Nintegrator.''

``You conceal something, 4012, yet I cannot identify what it is,'' said
the Fuhrermund, staring intently at me.  ``But once you finish this
device, you will be at peace at last.  Such is the price for your
calling and mine, that there is an increased tendency towards chaos with
the independent thinking.  You will receive the honor of annihilating
your soul first.  That is the will of Das Fuhrer.''

``Thank you, Fuhrermund,'' I said, trying to end the conversation so I
could go back to work.

The Fuhrermund then walked off, leaving me with the blueprints and the
prototype of the navigation mechanism.  Admittedly, it was still a
primitive style, similar to that of airplanes, but for the Nintegrator,
we needed it to travel through un-civilized lands, and research has
indicated it is still by far the best way to go.  I grew anxious to
leave work and go to the Kaoszimmer with 10666, but the stunden moved
slowly, like the viscous clear goo that citizens of Einsheim are created
in.  Finally, the day was over and I sped myself towards the Kaoszimmer.

``4012! Do you know what it's like to be outside, free from this
geometrical perfection?'' asked 10666 urgently.  She grabbed my hand,
and led me through a zigzagging series of alleyways.  We stopped to let
me catch my breath and I noticed that we were at the borders of
Einsheim.

``How are we going to get out? We'll be caught and imprisoned!'' I
hissed.  I looked around frantically for guards.  Even in a place like
this, there was some security *just* in case something went wrong.

Of course, my fears were unfounded when 10666 pulled out this key-shaped
piece of white plastic.  With these keys, it was possible to pass
undetected anywhere.  How on did 10666 acquire a key?  Only Das Fuhrer,
the Fuhrermund, and a few select others could get one of these to exit
Einsheim.  My doubts about her grew faster than an explosion, and yet, I
felt I could trust her more than anyone else in Einsheim.  With only a
slight hesitation, I followed her through the hole the key had made in
the wall.

\subsection{The Outside}

The first thing that hit me was a smell I only encountered in the
Kaoszimmer.  If my nose registered correctly, it was forest.  In
Einsheim, the only smells I ever recalled were just the everyday smells
of the place, such as the chemicals used in working on the Nintegrator,
sweat, and the soaps we use to cleanse our bodies.  Here, it was an
entirely new smell, a sneezy fragrance that made me wonder at the
strange new world I had wandered into.  I looked around to see greens,
browns, and reds.  Colors!  Trees stood around me and Einsheim like
sentinels, and I grew nervous that I would be attacked.

``Don't worry, they're harmless.  They're like buildings, but they're
natural, see, no artificialness in them,'' said 10666 as she tickled me
with a branch with leaves on it.

I asked her, ``How often have you been here?''

``Many times, now, you have to truly trust me,'' she said solemnly, her eyes
narrow slits.

``What choice do I have?'' I demanded as I stared at this unfamiliar land.

``You have none!'' she hissed.  I almost slapped myself for my question.  She
made a strange gesture and said something in some strange language I never
heard before.  If I had to guess, it was the language of the forest people.

Three people leaped down from the trees.  How did I not sense them?  All
three were half-naked and clad in simple outfits of browns and greens.
No wonder I couldn't see them!  For two of them, their skins were nutty
brown and their hair was russet.  The third was taller, much
darker-skinned, almost ebony, with long, flowing silver hair.  She
caught my attention the most.  I saw all three had long knives and bows
-- these were definitely primitives.  The silver-haired one had
intricate markings on her face that reminded me of another soul-beast --
a wolf, I believe.  Around her neck was a bit of leather with what
looked like a large canine tooth attached to it.  She approached me
cautiously, hand on her knife.

``Who is this you bring, Guenhwyvar?'' asked the barbarian woman.  She
stared at me intently, examining every inch of me and frowning at my
clothes.  Guenhwyvar? Is that the name 10666 had taken up with these
people?

``I bring 4012 with me,'' replied 10666, then they proceded to speak in
that forest language.  I noticed that these barbarians have pointed
ears, and coming to think of it, 10666 also had pointed ears.  How
beast-like!

After a while, the barbarian -- her name was Eilistraee, her two
companions apparently were called Erevan and Fenmarel -- gestured to me.
I gulped and gave 10666, er, Guenhwyvar, that look of \textit{What have
I gotten into?!} Eilistraee removed her necklace and placed it around my
neck.  I blanched, but Guenhwyvar glared at my uncertainty and distrust.

``She has bestowed you a high honor indeed,'' whispered Guenhwyvar into
my ear.  Her voice was soft and purring.  What did I do?

\subsection{The Camp}

The rest of the night, I accompanied Eilistraee, Erevan, Fenmarel, and
Guenhwyvar to their encampment.  Everything seemed to be in a circular
pattern, yet there was an asymmetry that made it completely unlike
Einsheim.  Here, people were clad in natural tones, nothing was pure
white here.  It was in a large clearing, and their living quarters
consisted of semi-conical objects constructed from hides, giving them a
ragged look.  I stepped into one of them out of curiousity and almost
decided not to peek in and explore after taking a whiff of the smoky
stench combined with the smell of tanned hides.  The people pointed and
stared at me, but I could sense it was also in their sense of wonder at
how a creature of Einsheim could approach.

I couldn't help but notice how people were doing things unheard of in
Einsheim except in historical displays.  There were women who had babies
with them; some were carrying them on their back -- how beastlike! --
some were nursing, and all of them showed some kind of bond that was
forbidden in Einsheim.  Then there were groups of men and women of
varying ages sitting together around a fire and talking.  I did not
understand their speech, but I could gather that there was a strong
rapport between them, a sense of what's that word -- family.  These were
not people, these were wild beasts!

A small, dark-skinned child ran up to me and bumped into my legs.  She
fell down, scraped her knees, and started crying.  I froze, unsure of
what to do.  My first urge was to push this child away from me, but at
the same time, I wanted to pick her up and comfort her.  As I stood
there, about seven children ran over here, surrounding me.  Two of the
older children started jeering at her clumsiness, but the others rebuked
them, at least that's what I think was going on.  An older girl helped
the little one stand up and tried to comfort her, but she continued
crying.  I then realized that the children were all naked except for a
loincloth.

Finally, a woman clad in some kind of hide came and picked up the little
girl.  The girl stopped crying as the woman fussed over the scrapes,
then glared at me.  She also glared at the two who jeered and hissed at
them.  The boys slinked away to a tent, shame glowing in their ruddy
faces.  The girl who had comforted her brought some rags that smelled of
the pungent herbs in the museum.  After muttering something in that
barbaric yet beautiful language, she poured water on the cuts and wiped
them with the rag.  In Einsheim, there was no need to do that, there
were cut-healing antiseptic pads that would cause wounds to heal
instantly.  People in Einsheim also ignored each other's injuries; it
disrupted the mechanical perfection and bonding only went as far as
keeping the harmony, not encouraging the individual and chaos.

\section{1999}

I remained for the remainder of the night before returning to Einsheim
at the fourteenth stunde and slept soundly until the first stunde.
Oddly enough, I always felt refreshed with the two or so stunden of
sleep I got.  Were the Lythari a weird dream?  I continued to work on
the Nintegrator and spending my time either in the Einskirche or in the
Kaoszimmer as normal.  However, I found less and less joy in my daily
life.  Only meeting Guenhwyvar, er, 10666, at night to go to the Lythari
camp brought me any real joy.

I was extremely careful to make my journeys away secret, and my extra
bit of pretending paid off.  One day, the Fuhrermund came into my office
to inspect the Nintegrator.  We were having technical difficulties
because my experiments had indicated that the laser would be dispersed
with the current set of lenses.

``4012, Das Fuhrer grows impatient with the Nintegrator,'' said the
Fuhrermund in that pure voice that now reminded me of a machine.

``I am sorry, Fuhrermund, but I need to develop something to concentrate
the lasers to make this more efficient,'' I replied as I examined the
equations that dictated light intensity.

``You are always seeking perfection, 4012.  That is a fortunate quality in
your character that will be utilized to the fullest.  Remember your
reward as you suffer now,'' said Fuhrermund before walking around to
observe the workers.  I hoped Guenhwyvar would at least pretend to be a
robot like everyone else.  Much to my relief, Guenhwyvar glared at him
the same time he managed to stumble on a piece of titanium piping that
she was working on.  It was a natural reaction, but I shuddered at the
thought of what would happen to that once the Nintegrator was working.

Fuhrermund walked away with that precise mathematical walk.  I continued
to make calculations to estimate the thickness and curvature of the
lenses.  Once I was sure he was gone, I pulled out my other notepad that
had blueprints and equations for causing the Nintegrator to overheat and
explode.  As soon as I started to scribble ideas for the self-destruct
trigger, I felt a presence behind me.  I whirled, expecting Guenhwyvar,
but it was a slender man with grey, almost white, hair, grey eyes, and a
matching uniform.  I looked at his number on his lapel.  It was 1999,
one of the workers in the Gehirnwasche.

``1999? What brings you here?'' I asked, hoping he wouldn't notice the
blueprints.

``4012, don't worry, I only came here to relay a message from 101 to let
you know that they're ready to test the upgraded laser once you've
finished the new lenses.  And you should let the Essenmeister know to
cut down on your stimulant ration,'' said 1999 as he handed me a set of
blueprints.

``Thank you,'' I replied before resuming work.

Once 1999 was gone, I opened his set of blueprints.  It was for the path
the laser would follow.  Nothing too surprising aside from the fact that
I would have to adjust for the increased ultraviolet radiation from the
updated laser.  Good thing I was taking my time or I would have wasted
time and reources on an obsolete lens.  At the bottom of the paper,
though, I saw a strange footnote.  I took my magnifier to see what it
said.  It read:

\textit{
4012,\\
  I know what you are doing.  Be careful, lest you fall off the fine saw
blade that you now tread.  I hoped I could do what you are doing now,
but I never had the courage.  I don't need the Nintegrator to de-soul
me; I have Nintegrated myself and am now completely trapped in this
world.  But before I fuel the machines with my corpse, I had hoped I would
see the Tur\'{a}sithel, the one who would deliver Einsheim.\\}

\textit{
\begin{center} 
1999\\
\end{center} 
}

What was 1999 thinking of and what was going on with him?  Nonetheless,
I compared the blueprint with mine and realized that they fit perfectly.
It was such a clever plan!  Nobody except for me and 1999 would notice
that this would actually cause the laser to change wavelengths such that
it won't be able to Nintegrate as effectively.  The pure white light
would no longer be pure; it would be slightly tinted with blue, the
color of the sky.  Combined with the self-destruct trigger, the
Nintegrator would fail in its task and possibly free Einsheim.  I set to
work eagerly and commissioned the proper parts before retiring for the
night.  Who would I ultimately be in the end -- 4012 the machine part or an
individual among the Lythari?

\section{Aerdrie}

That night after 1999's cryptic message, I did my usual ritual of
returning to the camp.  I think time passes differently in Einsheim than
it does for the outside.  Sometimes when I came out, it was day,
sometimes it was night, yet it was always night when I left Einsheim.
As I returned, a panicked voice cried out.  Several more voices, all
children, cried out, and by now, I learned enough of the Lythari's
language to understand it was a call for help.  They led me to a dark
part of the forest that the Lythari only ventured into at special times,
such as naming ceremonies for children and holy days.

I looked around and asked the children what was wrong.  A small boy cried,
``Aerdrie's stuck in a tree!''  Another boy added, ``She didn't listen to her
mother and now the trees have claimed her!''  Several voices clamored about
Aerdrie and how they wanted me to rescue her.

It was an awkward moment for me.  To give myself a bit more time before
whatever horrible fate awaited me, I said, ``Let me think of what to do!
I don't know if I can get her out of there.''  It was true, she was
wedged between two large branches high up in the tree.  In Einsheim, one
did not rescue someone in such a predicament; they were merely allowed
to perish and be recycled for future use.

``Where is everyone else?'' I asked, panicked and wondering where everyone
else was.

``They're off to war!  We're here because we're too young to fight and
you're the only one strong enough!'' replied Baeravan, a four foot tall
boy with fox-like features that reminded me of Erevan.  He was easily
the oldest of the children and their leader.  (Later I would find that
Baeravan was Erevan's son.)  I would have to ask what war was after this
mess.

Finally, something struck my mind and without a second thought, I
clambered up the tree.  I quickly learned that looking down was a bad
idea, but despite my fear of being injured or killed, I continued up.
``Aerdrie?'' I called, trying to figure out where she was.

A muffled voice came out from the top of the trunk, where there was a
large opening.  I peeked in and saw in the dim light a bit of silver
hair.  Aerdrie was wedged in there, based on what I saw!  My first
instinct was to leave, but I fought it and reached out my hand.
``Aerdrie! Hold my hand!'' I shouted.

Aerdrie's tiny hand grabbed mine and after several attempts to pull her out,
we were both growing tired.  I was about to give up hope until I noticed a
large sturdy vine that probably had enough strength to support both my weight
and hers.  I said to Baeravan, ``Take that vine when I throw it to you! Then
once you have it, all of you hold a piece and pull!''  I tied the vine around
my waist with a secure knot, then threw the free end to Baervan and had
Aerdrie grab my hands again.

``Pull!'' I shouted, hoping this would work.  Combined with Baervan's troop
of children, the upward pull on Aerdrie increased greatly.  At first, very
slowly, Aerdrie's small body came out from the crevice, but once her hips
were out, I forgot to tell the children to slow down.  Aerdrie and I went
flying in the clearing, and against my better judgement, I positioned myself
such that she would be protected from the fall.  I was lucky and landed in a
pile of leaf litter and Aerdrie followed, landing on my stomach and squeezing
the wind from me.  But despite my now sore body, I couldn't help but feel a
sense of fulfillment in saving this child.

``The Einsheimer saved Aerdrie!'' cried the children, crowding around me and
hugging me.  They led me back to the village, and lo and behold -- everyone
had returned.

``Aerdrie!'' shouted Eilistraee as she embraced her.  I couldn't help but
notice that Eilistraee and Aerdrie were the only ebony-skinned, silver-haired
members of the tribe.

I looked around to notice that there was no evidence of war, at least
none described in the historical displays.  Guenhwyvar came up to me,
smiling that smile that once cut me into pieces.  ``You passed the Test
of Iluv\'{a}tar,'' she purred.  Confusion swirled through me.  Rescuing
Aerdrie was a test of what?  What was going to happen now that I've done
something un-Einsheimer?

Sensing my confusion, Guenhwyvar said, ``We retreated to see what you would
do, whether you would be an Einsheimer and ignore the pleas for help or if
you had a soul and rescued her.  You have proven yourself to be your own
person.''  Before I could respond, she said, ``I have some important tasks I
must accomplish before the nightfall, stay here.''  With that she was gone.

Eilistraee now approached me, having sent Aerdrie to play with the other
children.  ``Thank you for saving my child,'' she said as she embraced
me.  I felt a fire grow in me; not the hot, burning scarlet flames like
with Guenhwyvar, but warm and golden like the cheery fires that families
will sit around to tell stories.

``Eilistraee, why are you and Aerdrie the only ones with ebony skin and
silver hair?'' I finally asked as I looked at her in wonder.

A shadow passed over her face, but she looked at me steadily and
replied, ``Aerdrie and I are dhaerow, the last few of our race in
Palindor.  The rest have fled underground or to Meson at the end of the
Sundering War,'' she replied.  Her violet eyes are full of a sadness I
never knew existed, not even from the historical displays.  I decided to
stop questioning her for the time being and turn my attention to the
children.  

A quick note here on the children -- instead of being programmed from
the very start of their role in life like in Einsheim, they are allowed
to choose and explore.  There are many niches to be filled here and it
is not uncommon for children to explore all of them before finally
deciding.  They spend a majority of their time playing and at the same
time honing skills for later in life, but as they grow, they spend more
and more time learning crafts.  I felt very narrow, having spent all my
life on the Nintegrator, while they try out hunting, healing, cooking,
smithing, and far more many crafts I cannot name.  Everyone was free to
decide what role they would play in the body and retained their
individualities through names, chracter, and actions.  I decided to
spend the rest of the day with the children, who now accepted me as one
of them.

\section{Solonor Tur\'{a}sithel}

That night, Guenhwyvar rushed me over to the clearing I had rescued
Aerdrie from.  It was a clear, starry night, and the moon was a silvery
crescent moon with a slightly bluish tinge.  I was confused, but I went
anyway and wondered.  I could hear the haunting song of the flutes that no
Einsheim musical device could even try to reproduce -- the cry of the wolf,
the whispering wind through the trees, the song of the nightbird, and other
harmonies beyond my Einsheimer mind.  As I tried to analyze the beautiful
music, I felt a tiny hand grab my hand, while a hardened one had my right.
The owner of the child's hand was Aerdrie and the other was Eilistraee.

``Just do what we do,'' said Eilistraee, her warmth reassuring me.

I looked around for Guenhwyvar, who had disappeared into the shadows.  Now I
knew how she got her name -- it was old Lythari for ``she-of-the-shadow''.  I
could see a bit more when the torches were lit.  Unlike the Lythari, Menschen
lacked the ability to see in the infrared range.  The entire village was
here, everyone's hands joined in a great circle.  I faced the heavens
when I noticed Eilistraee gazing upwards.

The prayer reminded me of the Einskirche unification ritual because of the
strong sense of unity.  I thought back to the melding sessions where all of
the Einsheimers would gaze at Das Fuhrer and pray for perfection, to be
in perfect order, to be free of chaos and to be soulless.  Here, we looked
skywards and silently reflected on our lives and exchange thoughts and
feelings with the spirit-gods, including Iluv\'{a}tar the Great Creator.

I felt a great sense of wonder and peace wash over me.  Something tugged at
my heartstrings yet again and although there were no words spoken or
exchanged, an image of a person on a cross formed in my mind.  I recognized
it as the symbol of Jesus Christ, or Maheengun, in the language of the
Lythari.  By now, I knew that the Lythari had their own interpretations of
Christianity, as we did in Einsheim, but there was something about the
Lythari's nature-tinged beliefs that struck me more, even if it did not
follow the Bible strictly.

My thinking was interrupted when Eilistraee and Aerdrie pushed me
towards the center of the circle, where the shamans stood and chanted
their praises to the spirits of the earth, sky, and water.  As I drew
closer, the eldest shaman came up to me and motioned to a warrior.  She
had a knife that was adorned with turquoise stones and intricately
carved runes.  Only then I realized that it was Guenhwyvar.  My heart raced
as I struggled to remain calm.

``Listen to the wind, my son,'' said the elder shaman as he circled around me
with a staff with something burning on it.  It smelled vaguely of the trees,
yet there was some other sweet smell I could not recognize.

``Iluv\'{a}tar will guide you,'' said Guenhwyvar as she sprinkled a bit
of water from an earthen bowl on me.  Then she started to mark my face
with a concoction of various forest materials I could not name.  She
also handed me a small bowl of a reddish fluid, which she told me to
drink of.  It tasted horribly bitter, but I swallowed it anyway.  I grew
tense, but Eilistraee and Guenhwyvar's presences conforted me in this
strange ceremony.

Moments drifted by as I focused on the wind, attuned myself to the land,
and contemplated my decision to follow Guenhwyvar.  At first I only
heard chanting and the wind, but gradually, as I concentrated harder, I
felt myself floating.  I never knew if it was from the smoke from the
shaman's staff or the drink or some unknown force.  I don't remember
much else besides a strong feeling of solace among the Lythari and an
even more powerful sense of identity.  As I slowly came back down to the
earth, a voice pierced my meditation.

``What do you feel?'' asked the shaman, standing before me.  I felt
slightly dizzy.

``Solace and rebirth,'' I said, replying with the first phrase that came
to my mind.

``Solonor Tur\'{a}sithel!'' shouted the shaman.  I recognized that
`solonor' roughly translated to `at inner peace with one's self'.
`Tur\'{a}sithel' was `triumphed over death'.  I found it ironic that the
name they gave Einsheim was Sithel, or death.  The more I thought of it
later on, the more I realized that the name fit.

The shaman struck his staff on the ground and a chorus of voices rang
out in the dark with two words: ``Solonor Tur\'{a}sithel!''  I was
growing dizzier but I hung on with all my will.  Several people now
knelt before me as the shaman and Guenhwyvar gestured to me.  Much to my
surprise, they and the proud chieftain, none other than Eilistraee, also
lowered themselves, Eilistraee presenting a curved dagger with the
symbol of the crescent moon inscribed in the hilt.  What did I do to
deserve this honor?

Then following some primal instinct in me, I motioned for everyone to
rise.  Music, similar to the kind I heard coming in, filled the air
again and everyone exploded into singing and dancing.  What transpired
next, I barely remember, only that I was one with the land and that I
had found myself.  Guenhwyvar, I knew, was proud of me, as were
Eilistraee and Aerdrie.  Some questions found their way into my mind
though.  Was 1999 perhaps someone else they had considered as the
possible Tur\'{a}sithel?  What was 1999 really about?  Old 1999 lingered
in my mind, but my thoughts drifted away again to this special night.
No longer was I just 4012.  I was Solonor, the Tur\'{a}sithel.

\section{Das Fuhrer}

As I returned to Sithel, er, Einsheim, I wondered whether or not I
should return.  But I knew my mission -- to deliver the people of
Einsheim from this constant violation of their souls and spirits in the
names of perfection and unity.  Just as Guenhwyvar and I were about to
step in through the secret passageway, I felt a dart hit my leg, and
suddenly, several figures clad in white leaped upon us.  We put up a
strong fight and actually sent three of the guards fleeing.  I cut out
one of the guards' throat with the knife Eilistraee had given me.  Red
blood poured out, and much to my surprise and horror, I felt a sense of
delight in sending this creature to eternal peace.  In the end, though,
whatever they had on the dart took effect and I was paralyzed, while
Guenhwyvar was only slowed down.  Then two amps of electricity passed
through me and darkness overtook me.

When I woke up, Guenhwyvar was gone.  I was in a pure white cell roughly
two square meters.  The only thing interrupting the purity was a mirror
in one corner.  I looked into it and saw a pale man with an intricate
curves that no mathematical function can reproduce drawn on my face in
natural inks.  They were oak and holly leaves.  On my arms were tattoos,
the left of a howling grey wolf, the right a crescent moon in a silvery
ink.  I was still wearing the leather jerkin and leggings Eilistraee had
made for me, and the knife was still with me.  As I paced trying to
figure out how to escape, a panel in the horrible white walls opened up.

It was Das Fuhrer, now a being of pure, radiant white that glowed in
this white room.  I growled at him and tried to attack him, but some
force stopped me.  Beside Das Fuhrer were the Fuhrermund, 1999,
Guenhwyvar, and the guards 707 and 747.  Guenhwyvar and 1999 were
chained and gagged, and every time one tried to struggle, 707 or 747
would whip both.  Neither would cry out, although 1999 would wince sadly
at me.

``4012, or should I say, Solonor Tur\'{a}sithel,'' intoned Das Fuhrer.
His voice had a strange calming effect on me at the same time I wanted
little more than to shred him to pieces.  ``You have done an excellent
job, both in designing the Nintegrator and revealing the stronghold of
our nearest enemies.''  I winced.

Das Fuhrer continued, ``In recognition for your service, 4012, you will have
the honor of choosing who will be Nintegrated first.''

As I was about to answer, two more guards came in with two people chained up
between them.  I couldn't contain myself as I recognized their ebony skin,
silver hair, and their proud bearing despite the chains.  The way Eilistraee
stood, the white plastic collar around her neck looked fitting for a goddess.
``Eilistraee! Aerdrie!'' I cried.

``So, you know these?'' said 707 as he grabbed a scourge and struck
Aerdrie, who barely restrained a whimper.  Eilistraee tried to attack
Fuhrermund, but the guards pulled the chains, causing her to fall to the
ground in a kneeling position.

``Take them away! I wish to be alone with 4012,'' said Das Fuhrer, motioning
to the four guards.  It was now just me and Das Fuhrer as I watched dear
Guenhwyvar, Eilistraee, and Aerdrie get led away.

``Fuhrer, you know that this is wrong! Einsheim was based on a lie!'' I
practically shouted.

``Patience, 4012.  You are letting your soul disrupt your logic,'' replied
Das Fuhrer.  ``Now, I have a simple decision for you to make.''  

A crisp, step function-like gesture and one of the wall panels turned
into a viewing screen.  The perfect geometricalness with the cubic room,
the square screen, and Das Fuhrer's composition of pure, elementary
mathematical functions disturbed me.  I looked into the screen and what
I saw cut me even more than Guenhwyvar's seductive smiles.  Pure horror
flooded through me as Aerdrie forced herself to choke down a cry despite
the tears on her innocent face.  Eilistraee could only watch her
daughter being brutally whipped by the guards, while taking an
occasional beating herself.  Guenhwyvar and 1999 were on a rack, not
being stretched, but forced to watch the two Lythari tortured.

``Stop!'' I cried as I tried to break from my bonds.

I could hear them fighting the urge to cry out from the torture.  Then I
realized that they could see and hear everything I did.  My palms were very
sweaty by now and the few hairs on the back of my neck stood up despite the
warm room.  Of all my friends, Aerdrie's suffering hurt me most; she was a
child, innocent and sweet.  

``You can stop their suffering,'' said Das Fuhrer as I contemplated what to
do.  I knew what he was leading up to, yet I wanted to believe that there was
some other course.  ``Nintegration.''

After what seemed like stunden passing by in just trying to think things
through, a most unmathematical sound pierced the air.  It was Aerdrie's
cry, a shrill noise that no living thing should ever make.  I looked
down and saw that Eilistraee had fallen, after being struck by one of
those electric shock devices.  I struggled yet harder to no avail when
Eilistraee was being electrocuted slowly to death.

``Agree to be Nintegrated with them, and I will spare that barbarian and
allow her to be blessed with soullessness,'' said Das Fuhrer.  Several huge
jolts of electricity ran through my body, leaving me winded and unusually
exhausted.  

I knew what to do then.  ``Nintegrate me.''  My voice sounded tiny and
unusually sinusoidal as I replied.  ``I will serve as an example to the rest
of the Menschen and speak on the follies of the soul, having experienced
one.''

``Wise decision, foolish one.  Now, you will finally find peace and
perfection in surrendering your individuality.  Your soul will trouble you no
more, and we will have conquered the inherent weakness in all intelligent
races: the soul.  Again, you will be part of the unified body and all the
world will be in our everlasting kingdom, as prophecied in the Scriptures,''
said Das Fuhrer.  I felt at peace again with the geometrical forms in the
room.  The pure white now relaxed me as I made the decision.

Guenhwyvar hissed, ``Fool! You surrender so easily?''

``There's no other way, Das Fuhrer has won!'' I said, resignedly as I
looked sadly at her.  The guards stopped their merciless assault on the
prisoners, but then I realized my mistake.  My decision wounded them
more than anything they could do.  I had Nintegrated myself by my
choice, just as 1999 did.  But he was wrong; Nintegration was the way to
go.

``We were wrong about you.  You are not the Tur\'{a}sithel,'' whispered
Eilistraee before falling unconscious.

``I am delivering you into the machinery,'' I said mechanically.

I was not Solonor Tur\'{a}sithel the individual.  I would soon be 4012,
a cog in the great machine that would soon encompass the world in pure
harmony.

\section{A Truth}

Soon enough, I was led to the Einskirche, where my Nintegrator was now
complete according to my blueprints and proudly displayed.  I couldn't
help but notice how well the Nintegrator had come along in my several
days of absence while indulging myself in all the vices it would soon
deliver me from.  In but an hour 1999, Guenhwyvar, Eilistraee, and
Aerdrie would be soulless and free.  We would be definable by elementary
functions and laws.  I contemplated the exact wavelengths of light that
would pass through our brains and destroy the soul.  As we were being
tied up (to keep us from unwittingly struggling from this purification),
I saw a huge crowd of Menschen who had been given the day off to witness
this spectacle.  Everyone was arranged in symmetrical rows, the white
uniforms creating sinusoidal wavelets that brought tears to my eyes.
How lucky to be a cog in the machine!

Before Nintegrating me, though, Fuhrermund said, ``Before the Nintegration
begins, hear ye all the words of a repented sinner!''

Fuhrermund came up to me and said, ``Speak, disciple of Das Fuhrer.''

The pure white laser was so tantalizing and I could barely wait for the
Nintegration, but I knew I had to speak of my errors and encourage them of
the glorious future that awaited them.  Patience, I told myself.  Eilistraee
whispered, ``You are dead to me already.''

Dizziness overcame me as I faced the perfect square of people, but I started
to speak as I promised Das Fuhrer, who was standing proudly next to me.
After this speech, I sould be rid of this differentiated suit, as will the
other prisoners, one with Einsheim.

``I stand before you as an example of the imperfections in our world.
Everyone errs at some point or another, but some have greater errors than
another.  I have deviated more than is acceptable; I am on a tail of a
bell-curve.  No longer will this world be a bell curve, it will be a uniform
distribution.  But I have failed in my duty as an Einsheimer Mensch when I
chose to leave it and become a savage as portrayed in the Kaoszimmer.  I
chose individualism, abandoned my number, 4012, and found a false sense of
peace,'' I started.  

Loud cheers filled the air, while 1999 hung his head.  He would cheer up
soon once he was Nintegrated.  A primal growl escaped from 10666, as
irrational as the square root of negative one.  The Lythari child,
tentatively listed as 34567, was crying -- something that would be soon
nonexistent.  The elder Lythari, currently numbered 34566, stood
upright, deluding herself that she would escape the glory.  I continued.
``I thought it brought me pure joy as I engaged in individualistic
activities away from harmony, but as I destroyed myself, Das Fuhrer
found me again.  Was I punished? No, I was forgiven and given a chance
to be Nintegrated.  I will take my place in the body, this great machine, and
you too, will be able to be Nintegrated forever, completely free of the
soul.''

I paused, then I felt myself inspired to continue.  ``Or so that is what
Das Fuhrer and Fuhrermund want you to think!  Hear me, all you slaves of
Einsheim!  Do you not know that what they say is a lie?  They may think
they can destroy individuality forever with this device, but they are
wrong! I was wrong, you all are wrong! The individual, the soul and
spirit, live forever!  Believe what you will, but hear me out and then
decide!''

By now, the guards, Das Fuhrer, and Fuhrermund were trying to subdue me.
I realized I still had my knife, so I nimbly jumped around them (thank
Iluv\'{a}tar for all the time I spent playing with the children!) and
cut the ropes around Guenhwyvar, who took the knife and set about fighting
and trying to set the others free.  I continued to hop about and dodge guards
until I reach a secure ledge on the Nintegrator.  I continued my speech.

``The soul, the very source of our emotions and our connection to the Great
Creator, and the spirit, the force that drives us on and motivates us, are
the core of our individuality, our connection to both the gods and the world.
Throughout history, there have been attempts to destroy them, but to no
avail.  Again, we try to annihilate them, but hear me well.  They can never
be destroyed completely, for one without them is dead and the dead cannot
function in the body.  They may be wounded, concealed, buried, even totally
forgotten, but they live on.  All you have to do is search deep inside, and
you will find the flames, whether they are raging scarlet fires or dim
embers.  

``And as for unity, it can never truly be complete.  It is still
possible to be in a functioning body with your own unique niches and be
individuals.  What I learned in the Lythari camp is that the
constituents of the body need not to be pre-destined as we are through
the Neuesmensch.  Instead, the Lythari children are given free choice and in
due time, they find their niches in life and the body functions just as well
or better.  There are imperfections and blemishes, but perfection is beyond
our realm, though we still strive towards it.  The greatest joy, which all of
you have been denied, is the feeling of fulfillment and belonging.  All of
you are here because you were created for that exact role and never had the
need to be accepted or accomplish anything besides your Lebenwerk.

``Who among you can honestly say that you have truly lived? Leave this
illusion of happiness, where the happiness is really an apathy from
believing in the lies! Come to an existence of suffering and sorrow and
joy and love -- who knows what love is? It is not what is in the red
level of the Kaoszimmer, but something that goes deeper and reaffirms
the individual!  I will deliver you from this false existence, for I am
Solonor Tur\'{a}sithel, the living one, not by destiny, but by choice!
Who is with me?''  I was surprised I said all that, but it sure felt
good.  I wanted to go on, but by now, the guards had caught up to me,
and I had to dart about since I was unarmed.  

\section{Farewell, Einsheim}

\subsection{Chaos in the Einskirche}

By now, mayhem had ensued in the Einskirche as the Einsheimeren grew
more and more confused.  Some were standing there, trying to come to a
rational decision, while others were running around, either trying to
stop me or help me destroy the Nintegrator.  I was able to improvise a
weapon with a beam that fell off the steering mechanism on the
Nintegrator.  After barely clubbing away some guards, the corner of my
eye registered 1999 in the operator's chair with Das Fuhrer standing
right behind him.  I heard a square wave hum and realized that unless
something happened quick, Eilistraee and Aerdrie would be struck by the
lobotomizing ray.  Guenhwyvar was working as fast as she could, but
unlike her, they had been tied up with some white cord that was
resistant to the Lythari metal.

I clambered down as fast as I could to try and stop 1999 and Das Fuhrer.
The Fuhrermund was in the way and it was an awkward position for me to
use the beam.  ``So, you've become one of the savages, 4012! But fear
not, they will be Nintegrated and you will be proven wrong!''

Time was running out as the Nintegrator continued charging up.
Thankfully, it took a long time to charge due to the high intensity of
the laser.  Swinging the beam would be bad, given the poor footing, so
out of desperation I searched for alternate pathways.  The Fuhrermund
was next to the entrance opening at the top of the pyramid, and I was on
a side.  The operator's chair was right below the entrance, as was the
main control.  I quickly calculated the trajectory I would have to take
to knock Fuhrermund in.

Once I knew what I had to do, I charged up and before Fuhrermund figured
out what I was going to do, I shoved him down the hatch.  There was a
loud thud and the sound of something breaking.  A voice below swore and
1999 shouted several oaths, covering up a lot of the other noises below.
I dove into the hatch to find why 1999 had sworn.  The switch to turn it
off was broken from Fuhrermund's fall.  Now there was no way to shut the
thing off.  My only hope now was to try to block the laser.

Das Fuhrer fired electric bolts at me and I felt myself slowing down,
but the paralysis passed.  I looked to see what happened.  1999 had
pounced on Das Fuhrer and was struggling to keep it down.  With speed
unbelievable for a Mensch, I scrambled down the Nintegrator to where the
laser would hit.  Guenhwyvar had loosened Eilistraee and Aerdrie enough
to be moved, but they were still essentially helpless.  The laser was
almost ready to fire, and not thinking of what'll happen next, I lifted
both and carried them as fast as I could.  I couldn't move fast enough,
though.

\subsection{The Tur\'{a}sithel}

``Drop me and escape, Solonor!'' said Eilistraee as she struggled.  

``No, I can't leave without you!'' I cried.  Sensing the laser's impending
exit, I placed threw both Eilistraee and Aerdrie to the ground and covered
them as best as I could with my body.  Had Guenhwyvar not heard me, I
would've been a goner, but she took a sheet of metal and stood in the way.  

I watched in horror as the concentrated white light ate through the
shield and then started to burn away at her.  (It was only then I
realized I had made an error in my calculations, but it was too late to
do anything about that.)  I won't go into details, it was too gruesome
for me to even think of.  ``You are indeed the Tur\'{a}sithel.  Do not
weep for me, for I journey to Arvanaith, the Neverending Wild.
Farewell,'' were Guenhwyvar's last words before she was vaporized by the
laser.  I held back a tear, but I knew I had to act fast before it got
to me too.

``Solonor, run!'' shouted 1999, who held a precision monkey wrench as he
twisted some nuts on the Nintegrator.  I then recalled his plan and after
making another swift calculation on the laser, I shoved Eilistraee and
Aerdrie away, caught some of the laser on the beam before it stopped, and
used it to cut their bonds.  

``Eilistraee, Aerdrie, to the outside!'' I yelled as I ran to the
Nintegrator.  A tiny red button was right on the base.  It had a crescent
moon inscribed into it and I pressed it.  A mechanical voice indicated that I
had a minute to escape.  

``So you think you can destroy the Nintegrator,'' sneered Das Fuhrer, tools
in hand.  Cornered between Das Fuhrer and the Nintegrator pyramid!  The
countdown stopped when Das Fuhrer kicked the button.  

I dodged a poor punch from Das Fuhrer and struck the button again.  The
countdown resumed.  59...58... It stopped again.  ``I'll take care of
Das Fuhrer! Go Tur\'{a}sithel, leave me here, this is my home that I
will never leave!'' rang 1999, now with a more natural-sounding voice.
He was bleeding from several wounds from dealing with the Fuhrermund and
the mobs who had sided with him, but he was still defiant.

Taking a container of hydrocarbon fuel from the Nintegrator, 1999 doused
himself with it and lit himself on fire.  He jumped upon Das Fuhrer, then
touched a burning finger to the button, setting it fire and locking the
circuit.  57...56...55...  I didn't need anymore words from 1999 to run for
my life.  Das Fuhrer pursued me, but 1999's weight combined with several
other Einsheimers who sought to destroy the Nintegrator immobilized it.  

``Eilistraee! This way!'' I called as I carried Aerdrie on my back and took
Eilistraee's hand.  I zig-zagged this way and that through panicked crowds
and burning buildings.  15...14...13...12... Almost out of Einsheim.
Finally, we reached the gate, now unguarded.  5...4...3...

Just as the Nintegrator exploded, I left Einsheim.  I stopped running
after going about a hundred meters away to gaze at the conflagration
that consumed their life-long homes.  I couldn't help but shed a tear,
both for the two friends I had lost -- 1999 for inspiring me to
continue, Guenhwyvar for showing me there was another way, and the loss
of a place I had always known.  Then everything faded to black.

I woke up on a huge, cold slab of stone.  As I was trying to register what
was going on, a voice cried, ``Solonor lives!''

My mind was still fuzzy, but everything came together when I saw the
blanket they had put over me and smelled the incense around me.  The
Lythari were about to set me on fire to help me on my way to Arvanaith!
Several tear-stained faces brightened as I groaned and struggled to sit
up.  Aerdrie ran up to me and hugged me as if she would never let me go.
It took Eilistraee all her strength and then some to remove her so I
could stand.

``The Tur\'{a}sithel!'' murmured several voices.  ``Risen from the dead
after three days!''

That, I felt was an overstatement when I realized the parallel between
Lythari lore and Christianity.  Nonetheless, I joined in the festivities
that followed.  It was bitter-sweet; I wished Guenhwyvar and 1999 were
there to share the joy, but at the same time, I knew they were at peace,
as were all 34,565 Einsheimeren who had perished in the conflagration.

\section{Epilogue}

I abandoned Einsheim and the Nintegrator when I realized the truth.
Einsheim was then destroyed when I shared the truth with those who had
not seen or realized it.  I have settled down with the Lythari and
although it took me months to overcome the grief of losing Guenhwyvar
and 1999, I never felt a greater satisfaction.  Much to my surprise,
Eilistraee named me as her consort, and for the next several years, I
watched Aerdrie grow up from a little girl to a resilient young woman.
She is the daughter that I might have fathered had I not been
genetically engineered.  I am now old and weak, only having been
programmed to live a mere century compared to the five or six the
Lythari enjoy.  Despite my illness and frailty from age, I have never
felt better.

Thus is my tale, and though I now lay on my deathbed, I must pass on
this message to you as a warning of what may happen.  Salvation is in
the individual, and try as hard as they might, the soul and the spirit
can never be completely destroyed.  Unity and harmony can also be
accomplished without extinguishing the individual; everyone must find
his or her own niche and beliefs in the end.  They may be concealed,
wounded, or even forgotten, but never annihilated.  I will never forget
1999's words, nor will I forget Guenhwyvar's final cry as she vaporized
in the Nintegrator's deadly rays so that a fool like me would escape.
Einsheim and Das Fuhrer will never conquer the world; they will fall,
but I'm certain that more will emerge unless wisdom is passed on.

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