by Kyle West
“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 f
act 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.
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.
