Bastion

by Kyle West

  Before I could ask why, she was walking away and heading out the door.

  I looked around a bit, but no one seemed to have noticed the interaction. Either that, or they were pretending not to have noticed. Either way, Fiona approaching me openly like this meant that whatever she wanted to talk about with Isaru and me was important.

  Thankfully, Roland let me go a bit early. Isaru no longer worked in the kitchens with me; Haris now had him scribing as well as cataloging and ordering books. I supposed this was Haris trying to take Isaru under his wing, just as Judge Kais and Sage Alan were doing. I remembered what Deanna had told me after I had just arrived in the Sanctum; if the Seekers of the different Sects weren’t approaching either Isaru or me yet, they would be. This seemed to be doubly true for Isaru — so far, no one had given me any extra training, and that was fine by me.

  I left the kitchen and walked through the Great Hall, and was out the door and down the path that would lead past the library and into the Grove. The largest trees were in the south, and consisted mostly of Silverwoods, and I followed the beaten dirt trail that would lead me to Old Silver.

  It was a minute before a turn in the trail revealed the massive tree, its trunk so wide that it took half a minute to walk around it. It shot into the sky, at least twice as high as the Sanctum’s bell tower, and it was one of a few trees that was visible from outside the wall. Old Silver provided a wide canopy of glowing boughs and leaves that cascaded down and illuminated the xen and grass-covered earth beneath with incandescent light. Several glowing blossoms twirled and glided down from boughs above, leaving sparkling trails in the air, settling on the ground and lending the air a subtle, sweet aroma.

  I didn’t see anyone at first, but as I walked ahead, both Isaru and Fiona were standing and talking on the other side of the tree, where they wouldn’t be seen from the path should anyone else decide to come out here. It wasn’t often that people walked the Grove by night, except for perhaps some of the Sages. I made my way toward them, and I couldn’t help but feel a bit nervous.

  Once standing there, Fiona spoke. “Let’s get started. I thought it would be necessary to meet at least once a week. If we were to meet openly, people would get curious. And since I’m not an instructor, this was the only way I could think of.”

  “I agree,” Isaru said. “We need a way to share the knowledge we’ve accumulated.”

  “I propose we meet here at the same time every Thursday night,” Fiona said. “Thirty minutes after the second evening bell.”

  “I can spare the time for that,” Isaru said.

  “I should be able to, as well,” I said. “If Roland doesn’t keep me in the kitchen.”

  “It will have to do,” Fiona said. “We’ll need to devise another means of communication — one that won’t draw attention or require us to speak to one another.”

  “I’ve already thought of a way,” Isaru said. “We can use the library — we can find a quiet corner, or a book that hasn’t been checked out in years, and place notes inside of it. Kind of like a mailbox.”

  “I like that idea,” Fiona said. “If we need to arrange a different time for the meeting, we can use that.”

  “What book should we use, then?” I asked.

  Isaru smiled wickedly. “I have just the one. I’ll show it to you later. As far as I know, I’m the only one to have checked it out in years.”

  “What book?” Fiona asked.

  “The Majesty of the Sanctum Law: A History of Our Illustrious Codicil.” Isaru’s smile widened. “Written by none other than Judge Kais.”

  Fiona laughed. “That’s perfect. But wouldn’t that be required reading for his apprentices?”

  “He doesn’t currently have any apprentices,” Isaru said. “Darian was just raised to the Seekerhood, while Lini dropped out to tend to her ailing father in the East. If that situation changes, we can simply use a different book. Just place any news inside the cover for others to check later. We’ll have to be cryptic with the messages. Don’t write meet at Old Silver, for example. Write same place and time.”

  “Obviously,” Fiona said. “And just use the first letter of our names. With that out of the way, then, perhaps we can start updating each other on what’s going on. I’ll go first.”

  “What have you learned?” Isaru asked.

  “Unfortunately, Elder Isandru has been a disappointing source. He is guarded, cryptic, and doesn’t seem to want to talk about his past. To think Hyperborea’s fall could still affect him over a century later…it must have been truly horrible. Thankfully, there is some literature on the second level that has proved more useful. It’s hard to separate myth from fact, but Hyperborea was probably founded a couple of years into the Exile. According to the story, the Elder Dragon Tiamat led the Samalites north, far past any place inhabited by Wilder Elekai. It was written that many died on the journey, but Tiamat would not let them settle until Ragnarok Crater was reached. He told the Samalites that there, they would build a great city that would be the envy of the world.”

  “Why did the dragon lead them there to begin with?” I asked.

  “According to the story, Tiamat was going to lead them to the Elders’ Aerie, which lay far to the north in a land called Hyperborea. It was a land so far north that it was beyond the north wind itself, and as such, was a land of eternal spring. Hyperborea, in those days, referred to the Garden of the Elders, a paradise. However, for one reason or another, the Samalites never made it that far, and ended up stopping in Ragnarok Crater. Though the climate of the Crater was unbearable, there were caves that the people sheltered in. Tiamat urged them to continue their journey to Hyperborea and the Elders’ Garden, and at last, they relented — but came to a dead stop upon reaching the Crater’s northern cliff, which was supposed to have been unpassable. There were far too many Samalites for Tiamat to carry them up in a timely manner, and they were ailing due to the heat, and many had already died.

  “The Samalites decided to return to the caverns they’d left behind. Though not ideal, there was at least food that could grow within, as seeds would take to the beds of xen found deeper deep inside the caves, while various tubers and fruits grew from the xen itself. In this way, the Samalites survived, and rarely saw the light of day. Tiamat, realizing that the Samalites would never see the land of Hyperborea, was forced to leave them in the Crater, going to the Elders to see if something might be done.

  “The Samalites adapted to their new environment, growing food from the xen, using it to make torches to push back the darkness, and water could be found in underground pools and streams. In time — perhaps a few months, or a few years — explorers discovered the Sea of Creation, discovering that when used to water crops, ichor worked like a miracle. Plants would grow to their full size overnight, producing crops far larger and sweeter than usual. At first, the ichor was brought up by hand — a very tedious and dangerous process.

  “The people themselves began to experiment with drinking the ichor. They found that it made them strong; today, it would be poison to most, but back in those times, over two centuries ago, there had been less dilution of Elekai blood, so perhaps its ingestion in an unrefined state was possible. It was here that the Gift of Agronomy was discovered. The Samalites discovered that they were able to direct the way plants grew, and not only that, were able to create entirely new plants. The ichor enhanced the Elekai’s strength, and given time, they became more proficient. Within the caverns they were able to grow buildings from the ground, as well as simple sluices of water mixed with small amounts of ichor to grow crops. For the first time since the Exile, what would soon be the city of Hyperborea was thriving.”

  “I’m confused,” I said. “I thought you said Hyperborea was further north. So why was that city called Hyperborea?”

  “That part isn’t clear,” Fiona said, “but at least according to Mireda, the author of the history, the city itself became such a paradise that the Samalites felt as if they’d never need to find the actual Hyperborea,
even if the Crater was only supposed to be a temporary stop.”

  “That makes sense,” Isaru said.

  “So, when did the actual city get built?” I asked.

  “That only happened when the Xenofont was constructed,” Fiona said.

  I remembered what I had learned about that. It was a deep well that pumped ichor directly from the Sea of Creation to the surface of the Crater. And it was what led to that Sea being drained, eventually.

  “How did they build it?” Isaru asked.

  “Aided by the power of ichor, the Samalites acquired a connection to the Xenofold that is unseen today. Pooling their power, they were able to direct the energy of the xen to grow downward, delving deep into the earth. Essentially, the Xenofont was a massive drill that went down for over two miles. The project took several years to complete, and according to the story, it was here where the Sundering of the Dragons happened. Askal, Quietus, and even Tiamat warned the Samalites not to build the Xenofont — apparently, Tiamat despaired of ever leading the Samalites north — but their hunger for ichor could not otherwise be sated. I suspect that even in its unrefined state, the people had become addicted to the ichor. In defiance of the Elder Dragons, the Xenofont was completed, and the ichor pumped to the surface.

  “Even as the Elder Dragons cut off all ties, the Samalites used the vast quantities of ichor to create a ring of seven lakes to surround their city, designed to cool the air. And over the decades, with virtually unlimited supplies of ichor, the city grew and prospered. Xen covered the once scarred face of the Crater. Buildings were grown from the xen rather than being built from the xen, and hearing tales of its massive wealth, many Elekai flooded into the city — mostly Wilders, who were rapt with awe. Soon, it was the greatest power in the Red Wild, and would only grow stronger. At Hyperborea’s dawn, the eventual draining of the Sea of Creation was not even a thought. It was believed that it replenished at the same rate that it was tapped into — a fiction that continued to be promulgated even as it became clear the Sea was lowering during Hyperborea’s twilight. Despite the denunciation of the Elder Dragons and the warnings of the Prophetess, Mia Farl, who was exiled, nothing could slake Hyperborea’s thirst.”

  “It would have been something to see Hyperborea,” Isaru said. “Even if it was the Elekai’s greatest mistake.”

  “Perhaps it was a mistake,” Fiona said. “Even so, it did provide some benefits we still enjoy today. Whether those benefits outweigh the bad things is a matter of opinion.”

  “What good did it do?” I asked.

  “Well, its refining technology allows us to understand ichor and some of its uses. Besides medicine, it can create extremely light and durable materials. There are armor and weapons that still exist that are no longer possible to make, as the art of making them has been lost. Several such weapons can be seen in the museum. Hyperswords, Hypermail, even Hyperguns…”

  I had never heard of such things, but apparently, Isaru had. “The guns can’t be fired,” he said to me. “We don’t know how to make the ammunition. However, the swords and mail are still useful, and can’t be broken or pierced by conventional weapons.”

  “How is that possible?” I asked.

  “The blades and mail were refined using ichor,” Fiona said. “People can’t do that anymore. It would take large amounts of ichor, so the cost would be astronomical.” Fiona paused. “It’s not just weapons, of course. Sages owe much of what they know of directed xenogrowth from Hyperborea. And, if what I’ve read is to be believed, the sky before Hyperborea was dusty and red, due to the impact of Ragnarok. The dust settled greatly over time, but it would have taken centuries for the sky to revert to its Precursor days. It was before the war with the Shen, during the height of Hyperborea’s power, that it developed these towers that were planted all throughout the Red Wild and even across the ocean in xen colonies. They filtered the atmosphere clean within a few decades, were able to drastically alter Earth’s climate, allowing more sunlight to reach the surface. Places that hadn’t known a blue sky in two centuries, suddenly did.”

  “I thought the stories of red skies were only a myth,” I said.

  “Doubtless, that is what most believe,” Fiona said. “According to this reading, though, they weren’t.”

  “What else did they do?” Isaru asked.

  “Other things are mentioned. During its height, Hyperborea controlled pretty much all of North America, Colonia excluded. There was little desire to liberate Colonia, and at the time, Colonia was a poor land with many troubles. Indeed, its government nearly collapsed on itself, though there was a party of Elekai that wanted revenge for the Exile. However, Colonia had driven the Elekai out only to make them more powerful than ever.”

  “They should have conquered Colonia when they had the chance,” Isaru said. “Ever since the Third Century, they have been a thorn in our side.”

  “Even with their great power, Hyperborea was a peaceful city,” Fiona said. “It wasn’t until the Shen arrived from across the Pacific that its test for existence would begin.”

  “That was the war Elder Isandru talked about,” I said. “The one he said lasted thirty years and caused the Sea to finally become depleted.”

  Fiona nodded. “Yes. The two empires destroyed one another. Though the Shen were driven from California and back across the ocean, it caused the Sea of Creation to become depleted. That was when the first reversions came about, and what the Shen couldn’t finish off, the Mindless did. Within another twenty years, Hyperborea was but a memory, having been overrun countless times, and what Elekai were left — including those of the Makai, the Annajen, and the Wilders in their own cities and holds — banded together to survive the onslaught. It took about fifty years for the Wild to heal enough that the tide of monsters could be pushed back. That’s two whole generations of Elekai that lived under the constant threat of extinction. And no longer checked by Hyperborea’s power, Colonia grew. When the Third Empire of Nova came on the scene, along with the return of the Shen in the Fourth Century, it set the stage for the world we find ourselves in today. Very simply put, of course.”

  “Doesn’t sound simple to me,” I said.

  “Mireda’s Annals of the Elekai is very long, and where there are no facts, he resorts to stories and myths. All of what I’ve said should be taken with a grain of salt, but at least some of it might be true.”

  “There is more written on Hyperborea than I previously thought,” Isaru said. “I had never heard of Mireda until I came here, and just haven’t had the time to look at Annals.”

  “A lot of historians find him sensationalist, biased, and overly reliant on stories and myths,” Fiona said. “Which are all fair critiques. Mireda lived over a hundred years ago. At that time, some Hyperboreans still lived, so it’s probably that what he wrote came from those accounts. That said, it’s hard to tell what is exaggerated and what isn’t. Nothing exists in the library that was written during the time of Hyperborea itself, such was the finality of its destruction. And the danger of Ragnarok Crater in the following years, even to this day, precludes any further investigation.”

  “Just to think of what could be discovered,” Isaru said. “Far more than our library even contains. Not only the history, but all the lost knowledge.”

  “Many have had the same idea,” Fiona said. “Let’s just say they didn’t live to see a ripe old age. Still, in every generation there seems to be at least one great adventurer who sets out to do it.” She paused ominously. “And every time, they never return.”

  “This is all great,” I said, “but what does it have to do with the coming of the Second Darkness and what we learned in the reversion?”

  “Perhaps nothing at all,” Fiona said. “I only began researching Hyperborea’s history because its rise to power coincided with the Sundering of the Dragons. I thought learning more about it might lead us to actually finding the Elder Dragons. If we find the dragons, who knew Anna in the flesh, we can confirm everything we learned. There a
re many things they will know that we simply do not.” She paused. “I’ve also written to my uncle to see if he has any resources about the Elder Dragons.”

  “You mean, King Caris of the Makai?” Isaru asked.

  Fiona nodded. “I wrote shortly after we returned from the reversion. I have yet to hear back — it’s an awful long way, after all — but I should hear something at any moment. The King has a large library which contains many tomes that don’t exist here. And Quietus being the patron dragon of the Makai means my uncle might have texts regarding her in particular.”

  “What will you do if he does have something?” Isaru asked.

  “I’ll have to go there to research it for myself.”

  That made me blink. Even if Fiona and I didn’t really speak to each other in the Sanctum, the idea of her being gone still made me uncomfortable. Among the three of us, she was the natural leader. She had been the one to lead us into the reversion without any form of hesitation, and even now, she had been the one to organize this meeting.

  “Don’t worry,” she said. “I’ll make the trip as quickly as I can. By dragon, I can reach Sylva in four days.”

  Isaru’s eyes lit. “I’ve just thought of something. I’ve been such a fool not to see it before…”

  “What?”

  “Jorla. She might know something about the Elders.”

  “No dragon would give up the location of one of the Elders,” Fiona said. “Even a dragon that’s a friend. Even Generationals like Jorla can’t just fly up to an Elder like it’s nothing.”

  “But if she were to know Shanti’s identity, perhaps she would volunteer something. It’s better than nothing at all.”

  Fiona was quiet on that point; she seemed to be thinking. “The dragons don’t much like us, with rare exceptions. To go to one of their aeries and ask to speak with an Elder would be unheard of.”

  From Isaru’s expression, I could tell that he could see Fiona’s point. “She would have to be told about Shanti. Jorla would never tell anyone else. I’ve known her my whole life. Even so, I don’t believe Jorla would do that unless she was sure that another dragon would accept it.”