Bastion

by Kyle West

  “We will,” Isaru said. “They haven’t seen Shanti or me fight yet.”

  “Speaking of fighting,” I said, “how are we going to get weapons?”

  “I have something in mind already,” Isaru said. “We should really get moving.”

  Before leaving, I looked back at Isa. “We’ll be back soon. I’m…sorry we’re doing this. If it could be any other way…”

  “Just go,” she said. “But if you don’t come back…”

  She never finished her sentence.

  “Goodbye, Isa.”

  With that, I entered the corridor and shut the door behind me.

  * * *

  Isaru and I entered the museum. Coming here was a risk, given how close to Isandru’s office it was, but it was a necessary risk. There was a reason to come here that went beyond the fact that Isaru and I needed something to fight with. There were lots of weapons to choose from here, and we had no other option because the Seekers’ weapons were kept in an armory connected to the wall in the Champions’ Copse, far out of reach of initiates and apprentices.

  Here, however, they could be taken, if one didn’t mind getting their hands a little dirty with thievery.

  The thought of taking Anna’s blade had never crossed my mind — never, until Isaru had mentioned it on our way here. Even if it was technically “mine,” I doubted that anyone else would see it that way, including Elder Isandru. The only reason I was doing it was for my parents. It was the only blade I could safely get, and taking Katan, the very sword on which all Seekers’ blades were modeled, might bring me a bit of luck.

  The problem was, both Katan and Berett were covered in a glass case in the center, but that was nothing Isaru couldn’t take care of with the large rock he’d brought in from the Grove. Those rocks were used for strength training among the Champions, and Isaru had chosen the largest one he could manage to carry. After I’d gotten Katan, Isaru would use the rock to retrieve another blade in a nearby case, then we’d dash for the wall where Jorla was waiting.

  “Ready?”

  Before I could even answer, Isaru lobbed the rock with a grunt, and it seemed to fall in slow motion. We both backed away as the case was utterly shattered. Shards rained on the stone tiles below. As I went for the blade, he picked the rock back up and smashed another case, grabbing the sword contained within.

  “Go,” he said.

  With Katan in hand, I sprinted after Isaru. Within moments, we were in the back Grove making our way to the wall. I could hear no shouts of alarm — it might be minutes yet before we were discovered.

  It only took a couple of minutes to weave our way through the trees toward the wall’s last tower. We entered the tower, climbing the circular steps until we reached the rampart above.

  We dashed out the door, only to come face to face with none other than Seeker Haris.

  I couldn’t fathom what he was doing up here; perhaps he was on guard duty against the dragons. His eyes widened as his hand went to his sword. He recovered quickly, removed the hand, and gave a strange smile.

  “So, the Princeling has caught you up in his schemes, Initiate Roshar.” He chuckled. “Both of you back inside. I’m afraid we have much to discuss with the Elders.”

  “Seeker…” I started.

  Haris’s eyes next went to our weapons, and his eyes went so wide that I thought they’d pop out of his face. Next, his expression darkened, and he did draw his sword.

  “Thieves! Drop the artifacts, at once!”

  Isaru and I stared across the rampart at Haris. Even with the both of us, there was no way we could take him on. I was about to ask Isaru what we’d do, but before I could speak, a sudden gust of wind blasted from above, knocking Haris over. Jorla descended from the sky so quickly that all of us had failed to notice her. All of us, save Isaru, who was now the one smiling.

  “Hurry!” Isaru said.

  Both of us quickly mounted. Haris, now up, started forward, but was stopped when Jorla let out a high shriek.

  I had to give Haris credit, though. He stood his ground, blade at the ready. “Stop at once!”

  Already, Jorla kicked off from the two crenellations she had roosted on, flapping her wide wings to gain altitude. Haris reached for his side for something, and when he put it to his lips, I realized it was a hunter’s horn. He blew a long, low note, sounding an alarm that echoed off both the Sanctum and the mountainside. Shortly after, the bell in the Sanctum’s tower started tolling, again and again, not seeming to lose volume as we gained distance to the north.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  FOR THE NEXT FEW HOURS, Jorla followed the curving line of the Colorado River as it snaked its way through cliffs and canyons. She veered west, away from the river’s southward flow, where the Red Wild truly lived up to its name. A tangled web of xenotrees spread from horizon to horizon, covering the flat expanse studded with silver mesas glowing in the night. Within those trees was a glowing pink pond, and it was a moment before I realized what it was.

  “Ichor,” Isaru said.

  “A reversion?” I asked.

  Isaru shook his head from in front of me. “No. Jorla would have felt it and mentioned it.”

  “It’s just a natural spring, then.”

  “It would appear so. They are incredibly rare, and it’s a wonder that this one has never been found.”

  Should we rest here? Jorla asked.

  “Yes,” Isaru said.

  Jorla glided down toward the spring, and I watched as the trees approached, feeling the warm air on my skin as we descended. The shore of the pool was silver, and its surface was as still as glass.

  Gently, Jorla alighted upon the spring’s bank and Isaru and I jumped off. Isaru stood, transfixed, gazing at the pool’s ethereal surface. He stepped forward, kneeling next to the ichor, placing a hand over its surface, but not touching it.

  I knelt beside him as he pulled his hand back. The ichor seemed like a living thing. Perhaps it was.

  “It’s like what was at Hyperborea and the reversion,” I said.

  Isaru nodded. “Yes. We saw it — an entire Sea of it. It was the fuel that built Hyperborea into the city it became.” Isaru sighed. “And as we both know, it was also its downfall.”

  “And it’s dangerous.”

  “It can be,” Isaru said. “Though it contains great power, ichor is liquefied memory, binding all that is Elekai together. It’s why Hyperborea’s crime was so heinous. It’s why the Elder Dragons forsook the human Elekai. They destroyed history, even as they made it for themselves.”

  Behind us, Jorla was now moving toward the pool, stepping inside of it.

  “What is she doing?” I asked.

  Isaru watched the dragon for a moment, who was immersing herself in the tranquil liquid. Her wings folded, and I was surprised to see the deepness of the pool; the ichor reached her shoulder blades while completely immersing her wide wings.

  “Dragons can survive for a while eating only xen,” Isaru said, “but without the ichor, they lose their entire sense of self.” His face grew dark. “This is how many believe the Mindless first came about. There wasn’t enough ichor for the dragons to bathe in. Many Radaska went mad and became violent, while the Askaleen became shells that could only be guided by the promise of pain and reward.”

  “They can’t be healed?”

  “People have tried — with dragonlings, mostly. However, they cannot be healed, even if made to go into a pool like this.” He paused. “In fact, dragons found their aeries around pools and springs of ichor for this very reason. This place might have once been the location of an aerie, or it might have been passed up for other reasons — perhaps it is too close to civilization, or it’s too low to the ground. Dragons like high places, like mountains.”

  Jorla’s eyes were closed now, as if asleep. She seemed to truly be at peace.

  “They need the ichor,” Isaru said. “It’s a part of them, and without it, they lose themselves. But to us, it is dangerous. Touching it can scar the
skin.”

  “Why didn’t it do that to us at the reversion?” I asked.

  Isaru shrugged. “I don’t know. Perhaps it wanted us to enter.”

  I hadn’t known about dragons needing ichor. Now, so much more made sense. If there were suddenly a lot less of it, it was easy to see how there could be so many Mindless dragons. The worst part of it all was that we did it to ourselves.

  “We should get some sleep,” Isaru said. “I don’t think we’ll be found if we were to sleep out here, but it’s probably better to hide in the trees.”

  “Won’t the Seekers try to track us?”

  “Probably so. If any dragons approach, Jorla will sense it and wake me. Although, I doubt that they’ll check in this direction. Jorla flew us deep into the Western Wild, on a route that isn’t in a direct line to Colonia. We should be safe.”

  We left the shoreline and headed for the trees. They looked truly wild and untamed, and I didn’t see a way to even enter them. I felt as if anything could be hiding in there. I remembered, what seemed so long ago, the monster that had been floating in the river...the crawler, as Isaru had called it. That was the very same monster Anna had ridden in my dream.

  If Isaru was right, though, we were nowhere near a reversion and probably had nothing to fear.

  I followed Isaru into the trees. We only went a little bit in until we found a small clearing with just enough room for us both to sleep. The xen formed a natural padding on the ground, and wouldn’t be uncomfortable to sleep on. It felt strange to have Isaru sleeping only a few paces away from me. It would have been unheard of in the Sanctum, where the sexes were separated. Out here, though, that didn’t matter.

  “Thanks,” I said.

  “For what?” Isaru asked.

  “For coming. I owe everything to my parents. They were captured while I was allowed to escape. For all I know, they think I’m dead.” I sighed. “Without them...I never would have come here.”

  “We’ll get them out,” Isaru said. “I don’t know how, but we will. And we will find the Prophecy. We will return as heroes to the Sanctum.”

  At this moment, with Haris having caught us red-handed stealing Anna’s sword, that seemed like an impossible prospect. It would require explaining everything…and I wasn’t sure if the Sanctum was ready to hear it.

  The wind shifted through the silver-white boughs, and I closed my eyes, listening until I fell asleep.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  “ANNA...”

  SHE FELT HIS HAND on her face. The voice was loving, and at its sound, she felt a strange combination of happiness and sadness. Not merely happiness, but something exultant and far beyond anything she’d ever felt. And the sadness would be better described as grief, as if the one who carried that voice were already dead. She opened her mouth, but found herself at a loss for words.

  “I love you,” he said. “Never forget that.”

  “I won’t,” she said, her voice thick. “I couldn’t…even if I tried.”

  She wanted to tell him she loved him, too, but no words came. They were nearly there. In moments, her grief would be complete. Her love would be gone. And even if she survived all this, she wouldn’t know what to do with herself. The world would never be the same.

  And then, there was chaos, light, and heat — nothing but white radiance, as if they were entering the sun. She was somewhere between a dream and death.

  “There was so much more we had to do,” she said. “So much more we had to see.”

  Why does it all have to end?

  “We can’t think about that.”

  How could I not? She wanted to scream it, but in the end, felt powerless.

  “I know,” she finally said. “Just...hold on to me, when we go in there.”

  “I will,” he said. “I promise.”

  Below spread the swirling maelstrom, the joining of light and dark. The Sea, split in a sinuous line, glowed pink on one side and black on the other. Anna felt herself floating up.

  In time, that all faded, and she could see silvery streams connecting points of light. There were thousands, like the stars, too numerous to count, and on the horizon those points didn’t seem to fade. She could focus on one light, and she was there, or she could peer into the distance and zoom as far as she liked to focus on another.

  Each of these are memories, a voice said. They tell the stories of every Elekai who ever lived and died on this world. They are preserved here, locked in the Xenofold. Some died during the war, but most died long after, including their children and their children’s children. They all returned here to the Xenofold. Samuel. Makara. Ruth. Ashton. Julian. There was a long pause. And Alex, too. But some time ago, one of these lights went out.

  Anna, I thought. She left the Xenofold.

  Do you not remember?

  I remember nothing.

  Perhaps I can help you remember.

  How?

  I’ve been the one helping you to remember. Perhaps your old self can never be reclaimed. Perhaps that is for the best. But it is necessary that you understand who you were.

  But who are you? I asked.

  I am…an intermediary.

  You mean, the Nameless One.

  No, the voice said. Unlike the Nameless One, I am here specifically to help you. I am something you created within the Xenofold, during your time here…a guardian, if you will.

  Something I created?

  Yes. I am a collection of your memories — memories that I can only share with you in short bursts.

  You’re the one giving me the dreams, then.

  Yes.

  Do you have a name?

  My name is the sum of every memory I contain. Essentially, I am you. A bank from which you can draw your moments.

  I’m confused…you exist in the Xenofold? How is it I’m talking to you, then?

  You are sleeping near the ichor, which serves as an entry, the voice said. I can communicate with dreams across distance. Direct speech, such as this, requires power that only ichor can provide. Until now, the connection has been less than perfect, but now that you are here, I can speak more directly.

  If you contain Anna’s memories, then you know everything about her.

  Everything she consciously stored in me, yes. I imagine there are some things she kept even to herself, not knowing that when she was reborn to the world, that it would be bereft of herself.

  Would any of these memories contain her Prophecy?

  There was a stretching silence, and it was long before the memory answered. I am not finding any particular Prophecy in my store of memories.

  Why wouldn’t she save that memory?

  I…don’t know. Memories have a way of slipping away, sometimes. Perhaps that is one of them.

  I wondered how that could be, but then I remembered what Isandru had told me. Many Elekai memories had been extinguished with the draining of the Sea of Creation. Could Anna’s memory of the Prophecy be one of them?

  What can you tell me? I asked. Have you been the one giving me strange thoughts? The one helping me to fight?

  In a way. It is a slow process, but every night when you sleep, you learn a little more of who you were before.

  Until I become her?

  On that point, this nameless collection of memories was silent.

  You must stop, then, I said. I…can’t understand what’s happening to me. I’m afraid I might be lost.

  I only have my instructions. Instructions you yourself gave me.

  Well, can’t you listen to me now?

  You worried, in the Xenofold, that there might be details you wouldn’t remember. I was created as a failsafe. My instructions are clear: to restore your memories in the safest way possible.

  You can’t do that anymore, I said. Things have changed. I’m a different person, now. Anna is a small part of me. And she must stay a small part of me.

  All the same, the salvation of the human race depends on your remembering.

  I don’t understand, I said
. Salvation from what? The Second Darkness? What can you tell me about that?

  I know…nothing on that subject.

  You’ve forgotten everything important…I wonder why.

  On that point, the voice was silent.

  I’ll still have to discover the Prophecy on my own. Can you at least tell me where I came from? Can you show the memory of me entering the world?

  You were hardly conscious at that time, the voice said. There would be nothing to show you. Besides, you were devoid of all of Anna’s memories at that time. I simply show what Anna has stored in me, both during her life on Earth and during her centuries within the Xenofold.

  What can you show me?

  Only the memories, such as I can impart to you. I can only communicate when you sleep. I am merely visiting you now to acquaint myself with you…to let you know I’m doing all that you have instructed. My allegiance is to Anna.

  Even at the cost of erasing me? I’m a different person. If Anna had foreseen this, she wouldn’t condone it.

  The voice paused, as if that was a thought it hadn’t considered. Perhaps it wasn’t even capable of considering it. It was just a consciousness that was following the orders of her master.

  I can sense this alternate consciousness within you…the one called Shanti. I agree that Anna could not have possibly foreseen it. And yet…my instructions are clear. Memories shall return to you, such as they can. Memories that will keep you safe in a new world where, if you die, disaster will befall humanity. Would you not agree that their needs are greater than your own? Was it not you who said to think lightly of yourself and deeply of the world?

  The words rang true in my mind, as if they were something I had once said. Unbidden, a memory of the one called the Wanderer came to me. Something told me that he had once said it, but where I had heard it — whether in my former life, or while Anna was in the Xenofold, I couldn’t say.

  Then it came to me, far distant within the midst of my dream: it was one of the tenets of the Seeker’s Way.