Bastion

by Kyle West

  “Amazing,” Isaru said.

  Kilan drank deeply and fully, and as soon as the cup was gone, she asked for another. When that one was done, she looked at her mother.

  “Mother…do you have anything to eat?”

  Mara blinked. “Of course. Let me get some soup for you.” She looked at Karai. “Seeker…thank you. I’m sorry I doubted; I’ve just heard stories about how Aether is dangerous.”

  “It is. Never believe it isn’t.” Karai spoke quietly, so Kilan couldn’t hear. “As I said…we’ll need to continue watching her. Take advantage of this window to feed her and give her as much water as she can handle. The Aether fights for her, but when its energy is expended, the sickness may take hold again.”

  “Thank you, Seeker,” Mara said. “I don’t know how to repay you.”

  “The Clerics’ services are always free of charge to the people of Nava Village. Neither of us could live without the other.”

  Mara bowed. “I will do everything you have said.” Her face grew serious. “She seems so much better. Do you really think she could return to how she was before the sickness?”

  “I hope so,” Karai said. “But there are the aftereffects of the Aether to consider, which we must be ready for. Pray to Annara that she is strong for that trial.”

  Mara blinked. “How long until then?”

  “Three days. Perhaps four. Until then, she will appear hale and strong. Do as I have said, Mara. My prayers are with you and your daughter.”

  “Of course, Seeker.”

  We took our leave, each of us initiates nodding to Mara and thanking her for allowing us to learn.

  We were halfway out of the village when Karai spoke.

  “What you saw was a rarity. Aether is only administered in the most desperate of situations for several reasons. It is expensive and difficult to procure, and its danger cannot be understated. It doesn’t seem that Kilan’s body rejected it, which easily could have been the case. The less the purity of one’s blood, the more likely Aether will be fatal.”

  “You mentioned aftereffects,” Samal said. “What are those?”

  “Aether is highly addictive,” Karai said, “which is why it is hardly ever used. Even if Kilan gets better, she will form an attachment to the drug. A small amount, such as I gave her, will work itself out of her system in a few weeks’ time. However, the memory of it will persist long after. One vial is not enough to cause a dependency in most people. The greatest risk is that she falls ill again, necessitating more. It is here that addiction can form, and then she would be as good as lost. That is why she must survive now. There is no other way.” We walked up the road for another moment before Karai spoke again. “We’ll check in with them in our next lesson, two days from now.”

  “What was she sick with?” I asked.

  “A disease called Falerot,” Karai said. “It’s usually contracted by eating Blighted crops. Blighted, in the sense that they grew from a reverting patch of xen.”

  “I thought the reversion was restored two months ago,” Ret said, uncomfortably. “Are you saying that there are more?”

  “Nothing to the extent of the previous reversion,” Karai said. “Small patches can revert, like tumors in the living xen. All food is being rigorously inspected by kitchen staff before consumption. So far, nothing has been found, but both the Clerics and the Sages are keeping an eye on the Sanctum and the village. Falerot can be cured easily if found soon enough, but it’s a rare disease this far south. Mara came to us too late.”

  “Perhaps not too late,” Samal said.

  “If not that, then almost,” Karai said.

  When we returned to the Sanctum, we parted ways. Isaru peeled off to go study in the library while I made my way to the Hall of Elders to see Elder Isandru. Isaru and I still took lessons together, but we also each had private lessons once a week. I wasn’t sure why Isandru wanted to see us separately in addition to seeing us together, but Isaru had theorized that either of us might have questions or concerns that we might not voice otherwise. I didn’t see how that could be the case, but perhaps Isaru was talking more about himself than me.

  When I reached the final hallway, I knocked on the door, and Isandru called for me to enter.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  EVEN THOUGH I’VE HAD PRIVATE lessons for the past four weeks, it still felt strange to be there without Isaru. It wasn’t common for an initiate to get private instruction from an Elder, but the Prophets worked differently from all other Sects due to their small size. At any time, there would only be a few initiates with the potential to prophesy or envision, and at the moment, Isaru and I were the only ones. Isandru’s last apprentice had been Fiona, who had been a Prophetess for eight months, now.

  “Anything new to report?” the Elder asked.

  For my last four lessons, the answer had been “no,” but today I had something to share. Isandru listened to me as I explained my dream.

  Once done, he settled back in his chair. “A true vision. A viewing of the past as it happened exactly.”

  “What does it mean?”

  “One of two things,” Isandru said. “Either your memories are returning naturally, or the Xenofold is trying to reveal things about your past self. Whether these visions are coming from within or without, I cannot say.”

  “Isaru said the same thing. Only…the last time I had dreams, it was because of the reversion. Does that mean there’s another reversion nearby? Seeker Karai was talking about Blighted crops, and they come from xen that has reverted.”

  “There is no reversion on the scale of what we last saw,” Isandru said. “Especially not with the Sages on high alert. A reversion is not necessary for the Xenofold to communicate to us, but it does aid the process. It allowed you to enter it, not to mention Fiona and Isaru. Even so, they could not have remained as long you did.”

  “Why not?”

  “It’s simply a matter of the purity of their blood,” Isandru said. “And considering your identity, yours is perfectly pure.”

  I went quiet, not really wanting to talk about it.

  “You are still having trouble accepting it?”

  “How couldn’t I?”

  “It will take time, Shanti. As I’ve told you…you needn’t become Anna. You merely have to accept that she is a part of you.”

  What I didn’t tell Isandru was that even that was too much. What if I started to become Anna? What if her memories supplanted my own, until I was no longer myself? I kept those thoughts to myself.

  “You’ve had only a few memories return, and besides your viewing of Annara’s Departure two months ago — forgive me, I should say Anna’s Departure — and what you’ve just described to me, they have all been vague. Likely, my guess is you’ll receive enough memories to form a clear enough picture of what your role is.”

  “Which is to stop the Second Darkness, right?”

  “That is the traditional answer,” Isandru said. “But only the Prophecy has the full explanation.”

  “What do we do, then? So far, you say just to train and become stronger, but if my dueling sessions with Aela are any indication, I won’t be ready for years.”

  “There is more to being strong than expertly using a blade,” Isandru said. “There is also wisdom, which only comes from experience. You are talented, but talent takes time to mature — and wisdom is knowing how to use your talent. Mastering the Four Disciplines is the key. When you were imprisoned in Colonia, you Called across hundreds of miles, and dozens of people reported seeing you in their dreams, including myself and most of the Elders. We knew little about you at the time, but anyone who could have done that untrained has amazing potential. And that potential will take more than a few weeks to tap into.”

  Despite what Isandru said, I couldn’t help but feel time was short.

  “What about my parents?” I asked. “How much longer can we wait before we help them?”

  “Nariel has yet to return from Colonia,” Isandru said.

  Narie
l was the Champion that Isandru had originally tasked to go to Colonia. His specific purpose hadn’t been to inquire about my parents, but Isandru had asked that he do so if he had the chance to.

  “He might have been captured,” I said.

  “Nariel is more resourceful than that,” Isandru said. “It is true that Colonia is a dangerous place for an Elekai. All the more reason we should be cautious. We must be patient, Shanti. No one knows what these days before the Second Darkness entail. That is why finding the Prophecy is paramount. In them, Anna predicted what would happen. But we cannot reach the Prophecy until we can infiltrate the Red Bastion.”

  “What if it’s not there?” I asked. “What then?”

  “If it isn’t there, there are alternate locations to search — locations which I would never search unless the Bastion had been crossed off our list. There is Brevia, taken over by the Shen decades ago from Colonia. A large archive is there, but the Shen are a dangerous people. Remember: it was they who attacked Hyperborea unprovoked almost two centuries ago. The war led to the depletion of the Sea of Creation, which in the end destroyed the city.”

  “Who are the Shen, anyway? Where did they come from?”

  “Little is known about them, except that they came from across the ocean and they had technology such as the world had never seen. In the end, Hyperborea and the Shen destroyed one another. Or at least, it was believed the Shen had been destroyed, until they returned to California early in the Fourth Century. They are less aggressive than before, and weaker, but they still shouldn’t be underestimated. They don’t allow any to come near their enclaves, and any who have tried are never heard from again.”

  “It sounds like Hyperborea,” I said.

  “Yes,” Isandru said, “the two scenarios are similar. However, we may not have to find the Prophecy at all. If Anna’s memories are returning, perhaps you’ll remember what Anna wrote.”

  It was something I hadn’t thought of, but for some reason, I doubted it would happen. If I were ever to remember the Prophecy itself, wouldn’t the Xenofold have told me during the time I was in the reversion?

  “I keep thinking of what that Wanderer told me,” I said. “I wrote down as much as I could, as you instructed, but I have great difficulty remembering it.”

  “There is a toxin in ichor that makes things easy to forget,” Isandru said. “Hyperborea had a means of removing it, but ichor in its natural state is dangerous.”

  Isandru had told me this before, and it’s why he encouraged me to write everything down right after the event. Some of the memory was clear, but in truth, it was hard to tell what I actually remembered and what I remembered just from my notes.

  Originally, I had looked forward to the prospect of private lessons, because I thought I would get the opportunity to learn more about Isandru. A man who was nearing two centuries old had to have a lot of stories, and he had lived at a time when no one else alive did. However, Isandru was quiet about his history. He seemed far more interested in looking at the future rather than the past. Instead, I’d ask him about certain things in his office, such as a strange hourglass filled with tiny, glowing grains that fell so slowly that it took a full twelve hours before it flipped of its own avail to repeat the process, and in this way kept time perfectly.

  I watched that hourglass now, a little over halfway drained now that it was mid-afternoon.

  “Is there a way to intentionally prophesy?” I asked. “For me, it’s always happened when I wasn’t trying.”

  “Almost all prophecies occur when the Prophet is actively seeking it,” Isandru said. “It’s a strange balance, between trying too hard and not hard enough. It is an active listening, a willingness to accept whatever may be said. Empathy is always required for genuine connection.”

  “It’s like talking to a person, then.”

  “Yes, very much like that,” Isandru said. “Except that person is something you can scarcely imagine, such is its power and ability. The Xenofold can only reveal itself in bits and pieces, because to reveal anything more would be too much for any person to handle.” He steepled his fingers. “I’ve been doing some research of late. In Hyperborea, before the Shen War, entering the Xenofold was a fairly common occurrence, but it was always accompanied by symptoms. Strange moods. Memory loss. Changes in personality.”

  Isandru let each point sink in, and every one of them, besides maybe the forgetfulness, reminded me of Isaru.

  “Isaru seems to be different, lately,” I said. “More reserved and quiet.”

  “He and Fiona both,” Isandru said. “Although there are little to no symptoms with you of ichor sickness, besides a slight lapse in your memories of the event.”

  “Ichor sickness?”

  “It’s what it’s called. It’s said to go away, in time, depending on the severity. However, Prophets of old who entered the Xenofold regularly risked losing their grip on reality as their memories slipped away. It’s said that they used Aether to aid the process.”

  I was reminded of the Aether Seeker Karai had given Kilan. “I didn’t realize it was still made. Seeker Karai administered some to a sick girl during my last lesson. It seemed to help her almost immediately.”

  Isandru nodded. “In limited quantities, yes, it’s been known to cure people seemingly miraculously. In the Sanctum, it’s only used by Clerics in extremely dire cases. Even then, its administration is a last ditch effort to save the patient. When given to Elekai with a stronger connection to the Xenofold, it is less risky. But for those Elekai who can barely hold a connection?” Isandru shook his head. “It is literally poison.”

  Since Kilan seemed to get better, I assumed she had some strength of connection. Then again, Karai had urged caution; that in a few days, her condition might be even worse.

  I remembered what Isandru had told me himself; that it was regular dosages of Aether during his childhood that had given him an unnaturally long life, but not to the extent where it would have caused a debilitating addiction. Even so, it was hard to imagine Aether having that much power.

  “Do you think Isaru is suffering from ichor sickness? It’s been two months, and he does seem a bit different.”

  “It’s possible,” Isandru said. “You can find old books in the library on various xenomaladies that simply no longer exist. At least, until recently. Isaru’s blood is strong, as might be expected of someone of the royal line of the Annajen. Even so, it isn’t, and never will be, as pure as yours. The same goes for Fiona.”

  “Why would purity matter?”

  “Because of the toxicity of the ichor. The process by which it becomes Aether removes these toxins, resulting in a purer form of energy. The toxins limit how much ichor can be ingested without ill effect. Indeed, for most people, ichor cannot be ingested at all, and it will even harm them if they touch it. Aether is a cleaner-burning fuel that also happens to be a drug of dangerous potential.”

  “Because my blood is pure, the toxins don’t affect it as much?”

  “That is my suspicion,” Isandru said.

  “There were some things the Wanderer told me that I’ve been wondering about,” I said. “When he talked about the Radaskim, I can’t help but feel how similar they are to the Mindless. Elekim was supposed to have destroyed the Radaskim when he took over the Xenofold from Askala. If that’s the case…then why are there Mindless?”

  “The Mindless are just that,” Isandru said. “Mindless. They are not of the Radaskim; they are not of anything at all. They possess none of the collective memories of either Elekai or Radaskim, living only for their own sake and survival. They will attack people if they deem it necessary, but unlike the Radaskim, it isn’t their sole purpose to conquer.”

  “What is their origin, though? Does it have anything to do with the Sea of Creation?”

  “It has everything to do with that. The Sea of Creation, ichor itself, is the reservoir of Elekai memory. Without that reservoir, memories themselves die. It’s simpler to think that there is simply not enough
memory to go around.”

  “The Wanderer himself told me that was why I was born the way I was,” I said. “It was never supposed to happen this way.”

  “Maybe not,” Isandru said. “Then again, mistakes often have a way of working out for the better, in a way no one could have foreseen.” He looked at me closely. “If your existence is a mistake, all of our existences are. No one chooses to be alive. What we can choose is how we look at ourselves and our place in the world. We find meaning by working for that world’s betterment. That is where we find our reason for being, for the short time that we are on this world.”

  I smiled. “Well, some of us have a short time on this world.”

  Isandru’s eyes widened, and then he chuckled. “I grant you that.”

  “What you said makes sense,” I said. “I’ll…try to see it that way.”

  I sensed we were nearing the end of our lesson, and we hadn’t talked about prophecy all that much. I almost wanted to take advantage of the following silence to ask Isandru to consider going after my parents sooner, but I stopped myself.

  Whether he agreed or not, it was going to happen. It was something that needed to happen. Besides the fact that my parents could be at the mercy of the Covenant and in danger of losing their lives because of my Elekai ancestry, they were the only ones who knew where I came from. Perhaps they had even met Quietus when she delivered me to Colonia. However, they would have kept this well-hidden.

  It was nothing I was going to figure out unless I found them.

  And I had to find them sooner rather than later.

  CHAPTER SIX

  I WAS IN THE KITCHEN scrubbing under the stove tops when Fiona walked in. Initiates looked up from their jobs, then nervously went back to their duties, working harder than before. She looked around a bit before making her way toward me.

  “Shanti, when you’re done here, meet Isaru and I by Old Silver.”

  Old Silver was the largest, and oldest, Great Silverwood, and was located in the south Grove about halfway between the library and the wall.