by Kyle West
“I see your point,” Isaru said, grudgingly.
“What about xen?” Shara asked. “Can’t we burn that?”
“No,” Isaru said, firmly. “To even suggest that...”
“I’ve burned it before,” Shara said. “Assuming it’s dry and dead, it lights up like grass and burns almost as good as wood.”
“Only with dead xen,” Isaru said. “I don’t think you understand how xen works. We need it to be alive.”
“But I need fire,” Shara said. “No fire, and my dinner is spoiled for the night.” She tapped the hanging creatures from her pack to emphasize her point.
“Changed your mind, then?” Isaru asked.
Shara ignored the question. “We will find something to burn, even if it’s the xen itself. It burned during the Crusade, so why wouldn’t it burn now? I’ll cut it from the ground itself if I have to.”
Isaru’s expression darkened, but Shara seemed to be oblivious. Either that, or she just didn’t care.
“Xen isn’t for burning,” Isaru said. “And it won’t be burned on my watch.”
Truth be told, I wanted a fire, too. I wanted hot stew for dinner, and lying down on this soggy patch of xen with no fire just sounded like a bad idea.
“We need a fire,” I said. “Tonight will be cold, and if we have to travel into the night to find a good spot with firewood, we can just sleep it off through the morning. No time lost.”
“We’ll move on, then,” Isa said.
We gathered the things we set down and followed Isa north.
ISA WAS AS GOOD AS her word. The terrain only became wetter, our feet sloshing through equal parts soaked xen and muck. The smell of decaying vegetation hung thick in the air, and insects swirled above boggy mires which grew increasingly dark with the onset of evening. Nothing grew out of the ground but low shrubs, and at times, we were up to our knees in mucky water. When this happened, we had to turn back for the more relatively dry turf, but with the failing light, it was hard to see which land was solid and which wasn’t.
It was clear we had made a bad decision. Not only was a fire impossible, but now we were far wetter than we would have been.
“We have to go back,” Isa said.
“We’ll find a spot soon,” Shara said. Of all of us, she was the only one who didn’t seem fazed in the least by the situation. “Push on.”
No one argued against her, probably because going back would take time we didn’t have. Soon, the only light came from the stars and moon above, along with glowing patches of xen. We followed the xen since it was mostly solid, but sometimes that xen would stretch across mires we couldn’t cross – mires which were producing a thick fog that, in minutes, made it all but impossible to see.
So, we came to a stop, squatting down in a few inches of water, muck, and mud, intermixed with xen. I couldn’t remember a time I’d felt so miserable.
I passed out the jerky, and we ate like that. I was so hungry that I could almost completely ignore how horrible the meat tasted, along with how much it smelled. Even so, it turned my stomach to eat it.
“What now?” Isa asked. “How are we supposed to sleep like this?”
Her tone was indignant. Even if Shara was to blame for pressuring us to go on, I also shared some of the blame. I had been so sure there would be firewood, but in the end, everyone was paying for it.
“I know this is miserable,” Isaru said. “But morning will come. And when it comes, the fog will lift. We can find a drier spot, and maybe even some wood to burn.”
“In the Hunters,” Shara said, “our wilderness training makes this look like a vacation. Are the Seekers really so soft?”
“What did you have to do?” I asked. “It’s only three months since...”
I didn’t want to mention that three months ago, Shara and I had been best friends. That three months seemed more like three years.
“The training is only for as long as it takes for a trainee to complete it,” Shara explained. “I will say nothing of it, other than it involves us having to go into the Red Wild.”
“I thought you said Hunters couldn’t go into the Red Wild without getting killed,” I said. “That’s the reason you gave for sending us to find the Prophecy.”
“That wasn’t a lie” Shara said. “Many Hunters do die. Those who die in training are seen as unfit to be Hunters. It solves itself, really.”
“That’s terrible,” Isa said.
“The Hunters are the elite soldiers of the Covenant,” Shara said. “There is no room for the weak.”
It got quiet after that. We just sat there in the muck, among the din of insect noise and buzzing of flies. There was a rumble in the distance. The sound of thunder.
“Just when it couldn’t get any worse,” Isaru said.
“Looks as if we might have gotten wet either way,” I said. “I don’t think I could sleep like this. Even without rain.”
“I would suggest moving on, except for the fog,” Shara said. “Perhaps the rain will drive it away.”
“Not that it matters,” Isaru said. “Rain would be just as much a hindrance. All we can do is endure it, just as we have endured everything else.”
The first drops began to fall, causing me to throw my hood over my head. Of course, the raindrops were cold, and as the wind picked up and scattered the fog, the rainfall only increased. I closed my eyes, trying to imagine that I was somewhere else. Anywhere but here. Of all places, I imagined myself back in Colonia, in the heat of summer. I felt sad, because Shara was in that memory. I remembered her drawings and how talented she was.
I wondered if any of that person, my friend, was left.
I opened my eyes to see only darkness ahead. Lightning slashed the sky, shortly followed by the boom of thunder. The falling raindrops slammed against the soggy earth, ricocheting back into my face. For all of Shara’s bluster that the Hunters went through much worse in their training, I knew she couldn’t be enjoying this. I would have killed for dry weather and a hot fire. I thought of the dry spot we had left behind. Even if there had been rain there, too, it would not have been as bad as this.
It would have been easy to despair in that moment, but the Seekers also had their own form of training. You accepted your situation rather than resisting it, and it was possible to do so even under the harshest circumstances. So, I closed my eyes and focused solely on that. Acceptance. This was where I was. This was where I would be, and there was nothing I could do to change that. It wasn’t a bad thing. It simply was.
At first, the meditation didn’t work. It felt like tricking myself out of the truth, but in the end, I realized that, in time, the rain would stop. It had to.
And somehow, hours later, it did. It was late at night, and the darkness made it feel as if I was alone. I couldn’t see Isa just three feet away from me. I worried about Shara, because I couldn’t keep on an eye on her, but I could hear her breathing on my other side. I looked up to see that the clouds were parting, and could even see a few stars. With the rain now gone, it was replaced with a damp chill. It took all of my concentration to suppress the urge to shiver.
With the clouds clearing, it was time to move on. Sleep was impossible, so movement was the only option. Isaru stood first, prompting everyone else to follow his lead.
Isa took a few steps forward, peering into the darkness. “I can’t see anything up ahead.”
“I can,” Shara said.
Everyone looked at her doubtfully. It was then that I noticed her eyes, bright blue even in the darkness. I knew Aether sharpened one’s senses, but to be able to see in this darkness was unimaginable.
It also meant we had to trust Shara to not lead us astray.
She didn’t give us much choice, starting confidently into the dark. We walked long into the night, Shara leading the way. From time to time, the rumble of thunder sounded in the distance, growing fainter with each passing minute. With the departure of the rain came the return of the sounds of wildlife – mostly insects, but also frogs,
and at times, sudden splashes that could only come from something large. I tried not to think what that might be.
More or less, we stayed on dry land. We were always wet, there was nothing that could be done about that.
In time, we came to a large patch of xen, an island above the surrounding mire. There, we crashed to the ground, and within moments my eyes were closed, and I was lost to sleep.
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
BY THE TIME I WOKE up, the day was bright. I felt the warmth of a crackling fire, which had caused me to wake up in the first place. I blinked, confused, wondering how anything could burn out here. In fact, what was burning looked like little more than dirt.
Shara had used xen after all.
Over the fire itself, the two rabbits and squirrels were roasting on spits, with Shara tending to them.
“It was already dead,” Shara said, referring to the xen.
I nodded, even if I had my doubts about that.
As for Isa, she was still asleep, as was Isaru, despite the morning sun and smell of cooking meat. With a chill, I realized all three of us had been asleep while Shara had been wide awake. And we were still alive.
I also realized that for the first time since joining up, we were sharing a fire. Or rather, we were around Shara’s fire; after all, she had been the one to make it. Isaru wouldn’t be pleased about the xen, nor Isa for that matter, who would take issue with almost anything Shara did.
For myself, though, the fire was good, even at the cost of a little xen. We needed the warmth to dry off and eat a good meal after suffering a wet, cold night.
What sleep I did get wasn’t good enough. Despite the bright sun overhead, I was groggy, and wanted nothing more than to sleep. It would be irresponsible to do so with Shara awake, however. Shara, who seemed to not be fatigued in the slightest.
Aether again, I thought.
“Tell me,” I began. Shara turned her head. “How did it all happen? The last I saw you...as yourself, I mean...it was outside your house, walking away to join the legion. How did you go from the person I knew to who you are now?”
It was a moment before Shara answered. “There are many things I can’t tell you about the Hunters’ ways. This is one of them.”
“What do you mean, you can’t tell me? You have a mouth, don’t you?”
“You know very well what I mean. We might be working together...at least for now. But it will not always be so. The Hunters have their reasons for wanting the Prophecy, and it has nothing to do with you.”
If only you knew, I thought. “That still doesn’t explain how my best friend has become my enemy. Do you still go by your old name, or do they call you something else now? Is there any part of you left?”
“She is gone. It’s all part of the training.” She paused, to again tend to the cooking meat. “I didn’t have a choice in the matter.”
What pained me most was not that she didn’t have a choice, but that she didn’t seem to care, one way or the other. To her, it was just a fact. Likely, she wasn’t even capable of feeling grieved about it.
“And you do it for Aether?”
She seemed to consider. “In a way. Aether reinforces the training. Without Aether, I will go mad and die. With it, I can at least stay alive, but it also means my thoughts and actions can’t go against the will of the Hunters.”
“Are all Hunters like you? Is Valance? Who controls him?”
“It’s not so simple,” Shara said. “But your curiosity is understandable. I’m not a clockwork creature. I still think and reason. But certain things are barred to me. For example, I can’t feel sad anymore. Or afraid. And I feel strong as hell all the time. This attitude gets a lot of Hunters killed in dangerous situations, but it’s useful, too. It’s important to stay smart. That’s part of the reason why I was the only to survive that Forest, back when Valance ordered the expedition here. The training has a way of erasing everything that used to matter to you.” She shrugged. “But that doesn’t bother me. I’m glad to do what I’m supposed to, and to earn my keep at the end of the day.”
Besides money, I was sure she was also referring to Aether.
“What about your mother?” I asked. “What about your art?”
She twisted one of the spits of cooking meat, almost violently. Was there something there, then?
“All gone,” she said, coldly. “They used to matter, of course. I can even remember what it was like. I just...can’t be brought to care.”
If Naomi ever heard that, she would be heartbroken. Then again, if Shara didn’t care, I didn’t know if she even recognized that.
“There’s no anger at what they’ve done to you?”
“None. I enjoy feeling this powerful. I can stand more pain and heal faster than other people too. Of course, I can sense Elekai and those with the potential to connect with the Xenofold. That’s how I was found, anyway.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“I’m only telling you because you might have guessed this already. We’re not like you, we Hunters. The day you were born, you would have always manifested: to be able to touch the Xenofold. This is what an Elekai is, in the classic sense. Then, there are those who that will never happen to, but a spark is still there, if only blocked.” She nodded toward Isa. “She’s like that. A lot of Elekai these days are. It comes from a weakening of the bloodline, where there’s only a little bit of potential left. It’s snuffed out in most people these days, and in Colonia, that is even truer.”
“You know about the Fading then.”
Shara nodded. “We know a lot about the Elekai. More than you would guess. It’s our job.”
I tried to ignore how unsettling that was, instead pressing on. “Hunters are people who can be trained, then. In another life...you might have ended up in the Sanctum rather than with the Hunters.”
“Yes. Except the training is different. Obviously. We are never trained to touch the Xenofold itself; that would be impossible for us. Instead, Aether is immediately administered as soon as a candidate is identified. Most die from it. Three out of four. You see, they take anyone who they believe has a smidgen of potential, and of course, mistakes are made. A lot. Even those with potential often can’t stand up to the dosage they receive. All who join the legions are pored over by the Hunters. I was simply...chosen. I didn’t know what to expect, but it was Valance who found me.”
“If that happened for you, then why not for me? They wanted me dead as soon as they laid hands on me.”
“You’re too strong to be of use,” Shara said. “As I said, you would have manifested naturally. I need Aether to unlock my potential. But a case like yours is rare indeed. It’s been decades since another like you was found, and it was for those like you that the Hunters were originally created at the Founding.” She shrugged. “Since then, the Hunters have moved into other arenas. Politics, mostly, but also missions like this, where a few well-trained soldiers are of more use than an army. But always, our primary purpose for existence is to eradicate the Elekai wherever we can find them within our borders. The irony, of course, is that each of us has a little of their ability. It is for that reason that we can’t have children – not that we would ever want any – and it is justified in saying that Annara can make all evil things good. In this, we find our redemption.”
Shara was saying far more about the Hunters than I had expected her to – especially when she had prefaced it by saying that she couldn’t say much.
“It sounds as if you don’t believe that,” I said.
Again, she shrugged. “It’s a story we’re told. I believe it as much as the rest.”
Which I took to mean that she didn’t believe it at all. “What do you believe in, then? Anything at all?”
“I believe in results. And I believe what I can see with my eyes. In a way...not having to deal with emotions as much is freeing. You see things for how they are, but even so, I’m content. I always will be, so long as I have Aether.”
“Where do they get it f
rom?” I asked. “It’s not something that is easy to obtain.”
Shara smiled. “Now that, I can’t tell you. Perhaps what I have said will help you to understand...provided you believe even a single word of it. This is who I am, now.” She smiled, a bit bitterly...although maybe that was just me imagining the bitterness.
“You were so good before. I don’t think you’re responsible. Anyone who listened to your story, as I have, wouldn’t think you were. I just ask you to try to remember what it was like before. Maybe something will come back if you do that.
“Save it. This is me, now.”
Shara tersely removed the spits from over the flames, signaling that the conversation was over. She handed me one of the spits with a rabbit while keeping one for herself.
“Those two can each have a squirrel,” she said. “Even if I’m an emotionless monster, I have a certain liking for you.”
Being liked by a “monster” wasn’t especially appealing, but at the same time, oddly flattering. As changed as Shara was, old parts of her would still come through, in a twisted sort of way.
Despite what Shara said, I decided to save half of my rabbit for Isa and Isaru. It wasn’t long before they were both awake, and each gave no sign that they had heard our conversation. Then again, perhaps they were just good at hiding the fact.
We ate the rest of the food, even as Isaru and Isa told Shara not to burn xen again; they didn’t buy her explanation that it was already dead, especially when the surrounding xen was mostly intact.
Once done eating, we packed our things and continued on our way.
THREE DAYS PASSED AND the Withered Waste lived up to its name. After the first day, there were as many dead or dying plants as there were living. Half of the xen was gray with death, the other half a pale, sickly pink that showed it had been dying for a long time. And so the infection would spread, south across the plain, unless something was done to stop it. If it could be stopped.
Despite witnessing the slow death of the Red Wild, there was still life. There were the frogs, of course, and insects, and on the second day, we chanced across a muddy nest built among the reeds of a shallow pool, filled with eggs that were far too large to be a bird’s. Luckily, we didn’t meet the creature that had made it, but I couldn’t help but think it might be a dragon. Isaru mentioned something about giant, swimming lizards, which seemed almost as bad.
