Davion and Quetzal wandered the ruined city on the other side of the portal. It had been late afternoon, back home; here, it was morning. The architecture was identical to the ruined city on their side. The flora and fauna were alien.
"Why did they abandon the city on their side?" asked Davion.
"Unknown," said Quetzal. "Perhaps it existed only to support their colony on your world."
"Perhaps," said Davion.
They were a hundred yards from the monolith when they heard sounds. Something heavy was running in their direction. Davion gasped as a cyclops ran out from behind a nearby building. It was at least twelve feet tall, with pale skin and brown hair. It wore tailored clothes and carried an ornate bow.
The cyclops saw Davion and stopped short, his lone eyeball bulging. Davion wondered at the expression. Was that fear? The cyclopean eye then narrowed, and the stranger raised his bow and drew an arrow seven feet long.
Davion threw up his hands. "I come in peace!"
The cyclops let loose the arrow. Without thinking, Davion warped the space before him. The arrow hit the barrier, slowed, and fell at Davion’s feet. Quetzal fired a ray of heat at the cyclops. His bowstring burnt up in a flash, leaving the giant gawking at the two of them. He lowered his bow and crept towards them with caution.
"You’re a man, right?" he asked.
"Yes," said Davion. "My name is Davion. Nice to meet you!" Davion immediately chafed at his awkward introduction.
"You’re not here to stab out our eyes?" asked the giant.
"Uh, no," said Davion. "Why would I do that?"
"I don’t know," said the cyclops. "All the old stories say that’s what men do."
"That’s horrible," said Davion. He looked at Quetzal. "Why would they think that of us?"
"Probably because of the rebellion," said Quetzal.
"And you!" said the cyclops. "What are you? A jinn?"
"Some call us that," said Quetzal. "We hail from the stars."
The cyclops stared at the two of them for a good minute. "Never thought I would meet two mythological creatures in one day," he said. "I’m Apollo. You two have got to meet the historian. It will make his day. Or decade."
Davion looked at Quetzal, then back at Apollo, and shrugged. "I have time."
"Great!" said Apollo. "Follow me."
He led them down a major thoroughfare.
"You live in this ruined city?" asked Davion.
"Only for the moment," said Apollo. "My friends and I work for the historian. We hunt, gather, and fend off wild predators so he can focus on his studies."
"What’s he studying?"
"He’s been trying to find the definitive story of what went wrong with our colony on your world. We have old stories — which is why we think humans will poke out our eyes — but nothing concrete."
"I saw the ruined city on the other side."
"You came from there?" asked Apollo.
"Yes," said Davion.
"I was so surprised to meet you, I forgot to ask where you came from. I thought maybe men had been hiding in these ruins all these centuries. How did you get here?"
"Via the monolith," said Davion. "I’m… I’m a mage. I can open holes in space."
Apollo looked down on him with furrowed brow, but said nothing.
He led them to a large building. "This was the local academy. The historian spends his days here, reading old tablets and scrolls."
Davion’s heart pounded at the thought of an entire building full of knowledge. The three of them went inside.
The historian was only eleven feet in height. He was far older than Apollo, with long white hair and beard. He stared at the newcomers in awe for some time before speaking.
"I am Sophokrates," said the historian. "I study the past. I can’t believe my eyes. You’re human, right?"
"I am," said Davion.
"We have only stories," said Sophokrates. "I came here to try and sort out fact from legend, and here you are. Bless the Eye of Heaven."
"I’m afraid I can’t tell you anything about what happened a thousand years ago," said Davion. "We have no records of it, and humans don’t live that long. I always thought your people were myth."
"The same!" said Sophokrates. "We don’t live that long either. I’m approaching my two-hundredth year, and I already feel old."
"My kind usually pass before we’re seventy," said Davion.
The historian looked at him with surprise. "So short? No wonder your people are so fierce. They have so little time."
Davion looked up at Sophokrates and asked, "What are the myths about men, among cyclopes?"
"The old stories portray you as hateful, ungrateful little savages," said the historian. "So many involve one of us showing kindness to men only to be killed by them, or have our eye poked out."
"I wish I could say that described no members of my race," said Davion.
"Well," said Sophokrates, "it only takes one counterexample to disprove a generalization. You seem like a decent person. I imagine there are others."
"I wish there were more," said Davion. "Life, where I come from, is often harsh and cruel. It makes people harsh and cruel."
"Our people are beyond such things," said Sophokrates. "We take care of each other. We tried to take care of you too, but you rejected us."
"What happened back then?" asked Davion. "I can’t imagine a bunch of men just decided to attack giants for no reason."
"Oh," said the historian, "they had reason. I’ve been reading about it for months. The aristocracy wants to know why our colony failed. I think I know why."
"Why?" asked Davion.
The historian sighed and sat down in his chair. He offered Davion a giant chair opposite him. Apollo lifted him onto it. Davion felt like a small child with his legs dangling over the side.
"From the records I’ve studied," said Sophokrates, "your people were little more than animals when we first came to your world. You ran around in small tribes, constantly making war on one another. Having built a noble civilization ourselves, we felt an obligation to help you do the same — to elevate and illuminate you."
"We founded a city," he went on, "in your world. We invited the more noble-seeming tribes to give up warfare and come work for us. We made sure they were well-fed and educated."
"That doesn’t sound so bad," said Davion. "What went wrong?"
"We pressed your kind too hard. We gave them little time for leisure. We didn’t let them drink alcohol or smoke plant matter, due to the harm to their health. We worked them hard because we wanted to expand the good life to as many of your people as possible. The harder we made them work, the faster we could build infrastructure and spread knowledge. We even sterilized mental and moral defectives for the good of your race. We had grand plans."
"But," said the historian, "you came to resent us. We cared for you… but we did not respect you. This made it easy for the dragons to turn you against us with their sorcery."
"Dragons prompted the rebellion?" asked Davion.
"I believe so," said Sophokrates. "I haven’t solid proof yet, but I think that’s what happened. The dragons came to your world, saw us as a threat, and used the legitimate grievances you had to turn you against us. And men did, in fact, rise up and poke out many an eyeball. They murdered many of us as well. It so horrified my people that they abandoned their colony — and this city, which existed only because of it."
"That’s fascinating," said Davion. He stared at the stone floor in contemplation. "Wait," he said. "Go back. Did you just say that dragons aren’t native to my world either?"
"They are not," said Sophokrates. "They are invaders."
"Huh," said Davion, scratching his chin. "What legends do your people have about dragons?"
"More than legends," said Sophokrates. "They’ve tried to invade our world a number of times. They don’t get far."
"You can fight them off?" asked Davion.
"We know of magery," said the historian. "We have men trained to fight. We know where the coterminous points are and keep an eye on them."
"You are fortunate," said Davion. "My friends are trying to figure out how to defend their forest from dragons right now."
"Friends on the other side?" asked Apollo.
"Yes," said Davion. "I suppose you would call them savages, but I find them to be noble."
"And on the other side — another ruined city?" asked Sophokrates.
"Yes," said Davion. "The remains of your colony."
The historian stared at Davion with one giant eye for a moment, lost in thought. He looked up at Apollo, then back at Davion. "Can you show us?"