Autumn came early and cold that year leaving hard night frosts on the high grassland and mornings of thin white mist. At lunchtime one day Asanka returned to the dome of Kalonia after taking Lyr for a long ride all around the plateau to find Crinomu waiting to escort him to the council chambers. The youth tended to his horse first, washing the stallion down and leaving him with a tub of bran and a warm blanket. Then he followed the man he often thought of as his father to meet the chief seer. Hirrilow was in pensive mood when the pair arrived. 

"Matters are coming to a climax," he began without preamble. "Despite Kalonia's reputation amongst the other Enclaves and our isolation from the Conclave I still have friends in the wider vurtiverse who have secret ways of sending me information. They are telling me some very disturbing stories. I believe that the Enclave of Trassamul means now to destroy us, though I do not fully understand how or why. It is unprecedented and would be a great crime. To be frank I am afraid for we are weak and isolated, but all need not be lost. There are legal conventions we could call upon and there are rival forces within the Conclave who do not agree with the actions Trassamul seems to be planning. We need to rally them as our allies. Yet all this is impossible without full access to the vurtiverse." 

"And the Curse of Kalonia prevents this?" Asanka asked. 

"Yes. I have never properly explained why Kalonia was cursed. Now is the time..."

Hirrilow rose and led them deeper into the centre of Kalonia until they stood before the great crystal engine of the Sanctum. 

"Remember that this is the true heart of Kalonia," he said to them. "We, the Embassy to the Substrate, decanted now for a little while into this world of slow matter and primal energy are always aware that our true home is another modality to which we will one day return and which we must ever serve. But for you, Asanka, who have never known life beyond the substrate of this mortal world it must seem strange to think of the myriad citizens of Kalonia who live rich lives forever bound in the crystal matrix of the Substrate and forever unknowable to you. 

"I have already told you a little of the purpose of the Enclaves. We are the trustees of the legacy of the long departed Guardians, charged with keeping their Vow Of Earth and maintaining an eternal Season Of Innocence. We are here to protect and watch over the peace of the substrate. After the Vow was taken the Enclaves were instructed to complement one another in this duty, to be in harmony and communion through the vurtiverse and the Conclave, with each providing to each the separate necessary skills and insights to nurse this world. 

"Kalonia was once a centre of learning and a store of knowledge for ancient groups called the statisticians, the futurologists, the sociologists, the chaos theoreticians the economists, the psychologists, the psychohistorians and the metaevolutionaries. Together these disciplines merged to become the Seers we now are. Our task is to track change in the societies of the Earth and to warn of deviations from the way of the Vow if Innocence itself is in danger. 

"It was because we made such a warning that we were Cursed. We were Cursed with disbelief because we offered what could only be seen as heresy. We said that the Season of Innocence itself could not be maintained and that at last it must end. This is not something the Conclave was prepared to listen to. 

"Though it caused great controversy, the Curse which exiled us from the vurtiverse prevented worse damage in the Conclave and none understood that better than we citizens of Kalonia, though it hurt us. We accepted our Curse and exile with grace, expecting that in time we would be readmitted and listened to by calmer minds. The Season of Innocence endures over ages and in the immortal Enclaves we think in terms of centuries and patience is our nature. But on this matter it seems things have not happened as our seers prophesied, for prophesy is far from a perfect science! 

"Passive co-operation with the exile imposed upon us by the Curse is no longer an option. We must act now to end it! 

"With your help, this is what we can do. Many leagues north of the Kalonia plateau there is an island on the great river Osyndar where it bends around the last outstretched fingers of the downs of Ilunon. On that island may be found an old Guardian Earth Nerve Complex which is now known as the Beacon Of Ulon. A tall spire rises from the heart of the Beacon and with the right signal codes it can open channels to Conclave satellites and link us to all the Enclaves, breaking the barriers that keep us from the vurtiverse and allowing us back into communion. Then we may break our silence and defend ourselves against the unjust actions of Trassamul. I need both of you to go to the Beacon Of Ulon and lift the Curse of Kalonia!"

It took two days to prepare for the expedition with camping gear and provisions to be secured and packed in saddle bags and the route to be planned based on what limited information the seers possessed of the lands beyond their borders. Asanka had no doubts about his desire to go. Here, at last was a chance to leave the plateau of Kalonia and to see the world! Only now did he realise how the limits of his daily rides with Lyr had begun to chafe his spirit as the inheritance of his Rider mother called out for freedom and how he longed to soar over the canyons bounding his world just as Suak did. 

Now they were on their way at last! A bright cold Autumn dawn, laced with frost and fog made the breath of humans and horses visible as with Crinomu riding Paramal and Asanka on Lyr, they set out in the one direction that had always been prohibited before, over the mirror bridge to the open downs of Ilunon. The shadow of the bridge fell on a river of mist which filled the canyon. A thin rime coated the smooth surface, but the horses began to canter before they reached the far side. The sound of their hooves rang like bells on the peculiar alloy, a melody of wild tintinnabulation to wake the sleeping down land. Before long they would slow down and pace the journey more sensibly for it was six days ride to their destination but for now a strange urgency infected both the men and their excited mounts and they let the horses have their head. The journey to the Beacon of Ulon had begun and they were off to finally end the Curse of Kalonia!

Orietta stood between Hirrilow and Malorye as they bade the expedition farewell. How she wished that she had been allowed to travel with the men! She had pleaded with Hirrilow for the chance but the chief seer had forbidden it. It wasn't because he didn't recognise the strength of her case as well as the strength of her desire. After all, she was the only resident of Kalonia who had actually travelled beyond the boundaries of the plateau and her knowledge of the peoples and customs of the wider world could have been very useful. In all honesty she should have been the leader of the mission. But whilst he was sympathetic, Hirrilow would not let her go. The simple fact was that he was in a very delicate political situation and taking a huge risk already. On a slim technicality he could just about plead conformance with the Vow of Earth in everything he'd done so far but to let Orietta go would have been a clear and unambiguous violation of the code the Enclaves had all maintained for so long. The separation of the Enclaves from the Riders and the rest of the world must be absolute. It was for the Riders to live the Season of Innocence and the Enclaves to watch over it and no Rider must pass knowledge of the Enclaves into the world to pollute its purity. Because he needed not just to establish communion with the Conclave but to obtain other Enclave allies, Hirrilow dare do nothing more that might count against Kalonia in Conclave eyes. Orietta, a citizen of both cultures now, had to stay. Asanka had never been a Rider and on this thin line of logic Hirrilow had allowed him to go. To Orietta it seemed an age since she had come to Kalonia. Seldom since those first few days had she remembered that she was a prisoner as well as a guest but now she felt anew the bitter sting of liberty denied. 

In some ways, she felt scarcely older than the day she'd ridden over the mirror bridge. There was a restorative, almost magical aspect to the diet, lifestyle and subtle medical knowledge of the seers which had preserved her youth far beyond the span of years a wild Rider could ever expect. She was not immortal as the seers were and would not return to the Sanctum when aging and death finally caught up with her, yet she had learnt much of their culture and come to appreciate something of their great knowledge and their gentle ways. Despite her longing to be free she had finally accepted the bitter judgement of Hirrilow with good grace. She had learned patience. But it seemed too, to Orietta at that moment as she watched her lover and her son ride away that she might have inherited something else from Kalonia; a strange capacity for prophecy which had infused her spirit from the proclivities of the Seers in the same way their care had affected her material body. A sudden coldness came to her heart, harsher than that of the bright Autumn dawn for she had a powerful presentiment that this moment on this bridge was a final farewell. And though she tried later to dismiss her instinct as simple superstitious fear, this foreboding was a true prophecy. Orietta would never see Crinomu or Asanka again for as long as she lived.