by Luke Donegan
“Gob! Gob! Gob!” they cried.
The Builder tore at the fabric of his tunic. There, the golden shimmer of Passage burned in his chest. A small whirlpool of glowing fire slowly consumed his physical self. It was the same for all of them. Fire burst from their chests.
He only had moments left. He tried to find peace as his Spirit was drawn from his body.
But he could not. For he understood that there was to be no Passage to the Spirit world. He and the Umawari would not ride the great wind. For something monstrous was coming.
He could hear it like a rush of wind. A torrent flowing into the Museum. Above the sounds of screaming people.
Fire leapt from his chest. Panic and horror. It was upon them.
Erys regained awareness. He was Spirit and self, bridging worlds. He was the great wind blowing against the hard world. He was the crack in its foundation, the breaking of Law.
As he awoke he knew who he was. Erys, the Scion-Teacher. But fire and power woke with him. Where had he been? In the foyer, fighting with the Umawari! Then a dream of flying. Now he was awake. He knew where he was. Ocean-Hearth. But he did not recognize his body. He was impossibly large, and powerful. His body, long and sleek, composed of Dark Matter and silver light. Anger and rage woke within him, boiling up like dragon’s fire. And a vast hunger, an empty pit within him, driving him mad.
Erys knew who he was, but he no longer cared. He was appetite and that was all. His thoughts, his memories, his understanding of the world and his place within it, his sense of right and wrong, his loves and passions - none of it meant anything anymore.
He saw Sian cowering in fear. As he grew and slithered and hovered in the air he heard her call his name. Erys! And he loved her more than the world. But in this moment he could have eaten her without a thought.
He hissed at Sian. Move back girl, or I will boil you in fire.
He flew into the air above Ocean-Hearth.
There was a perfume on the breeze. Spirit, in vast quantity. A fragrance so powerful it blinded him.
He roared bellyfuls of fire into the sky. There! he cried. The Museum! Erys roared again as he soared towards the dust-shrouded Museum.
And, as if in anticipation at the feast to come, he continued to grow. Larger than a building, wider than Ocean Road beneath him.
As he approached the Museum his nostrils flared and he located the food source. There, on the broken shaft of the tower, a gathering of immortals. Their Spirits dripped with the bouquet of millions.
But below them, on the ground in front the Museum pushing inside, was the army. Two thousand Spirits, the whiff of panic and fear about them. Hatred sent him careening downwards.
Four hundred soldiers remained outside the foyer waiting to push inside. Now, as Erys speared towards them from the sky, they tried to run. Erys came low, skimming the road with his belly. Paving stones flew into the air. He opened his jaws. Fire and darkness bore down upon the soldiers.
Like a shark trawling through a school of fish he scooped hundreds of soldiers into his jaws. Those he missed erupted into spontaneous Passage, their golden Spirits irrevocably sucked into the dragon’s maw. As Erys passed along the road and up the stairs of the landing, the mass of soldiers exploded into plumes of golden light and were consumed.
Erys drove into the foyer. Soldiers screamed and uselessly held up their hands to ward off the beast. The soldiers burst into golden light as he swept past them into the corridor.
He was too large for the space. His cheeks collapsed the walls and his horns disintegrated the ceiling. Plaster, floor tiles, and stone were pulverised to dust as he hurtled down the corridor. Erys blew fire before him, roasting and consuming the soldiers trapped in his path.
He arrived at the junction beneath the tower, smelling food towards the Nature Dome - humans, animals and animists. But the aroma above was stronger. He would come back later and feast on those in the Nature Dome. There was plenty of time. His appetite was endless. And after he had eaten everyone in the Museum, he would fly into the city and hunt down all those thousands hiding in their little homes. Leaving the city decimated he would then scour the world, seeking out all life, what little of it that remained. In a short span of his immortal life he would cleanse the world of its life, leaving it a barren place. He would seek out life on other planets. Other Passage ravaged worlds where life clung to existence.
And though these worlds were numerous, he was now immortal and his appetite was endless. Erys the destroyer - one by one he would eradicate all life in the universe leaving it cold, dark and empty.
At the end of time nothing would remain, the phenomenon of life only a distant memory. And Erys, lost and starving, lost inside the body of this great beast, would be doomed to drift for eternity ...
... knowing he had destroyed it all.
He exploded through the ceiling into the bright, dust-filled day. Windows burst in silver showers of glass as his body of Dark Matter shot up the length of the tower. He flew above the platform and saw the little creatures caught in their own feeding frenzy. Little immortal creatures, Spirits. But they were motes compared to his gargantuan frame. Now he had broken the Law the little immortals were nothing but a glorious meal.
The winged creatures tore at a small figure on the platform. Erys knew what they were feeding on – the Teacher.
Jay, he thought.
He saw that Jay had failed. The Teacher had tried to destroy Dark Matter but had been unequal to the task.
It should have been me after all, thought the Aberration. But he also understood that he too would have failed. He was lawless. And only Law could repair the breach through which Dark Matter now flooded into the universe.
But for one he was still unseen. The Director in his human form stood apart, pointing at the sky. He cried out in warning but his companions were unaware of their doom as the dragon fell from the sky into their midst.
Like a hurricane Erys circled the tower, weaving his body around the six immortals. He dragged them away from the remains of their meal.
The Director transformed into the unicorn but was immediately caught within the tight coils of the dragon’s body. The seven Ascendants screeched and howled and struggled to escape the creature of Dark Matter who had them now trapped. Their claws and teeth were unable to hurt the creature.
Defend yourselves! cried Kafka Yellis. Eat it! Devour it! Before we are destroyed.
But it was too late. Erys no longer had Spirit that was separate from his physical self. He was something different, something outside Law and he did not obey the principles of the world. They could not touch him.
But he could taste them. He hefted his great dragon’s head before each in turn, sniffing each creature - the hyena, the serpent, the unicorn, the reptile, the insect, the fish, the owl - lasciviously enjoying their odour. Fire and smoke seeped from his nostrils.
You destroyers! he thought contemptuously. Now you will taste ruin.
He faced the unicorn.
You betrayed the Ark. I will taste revenge first, he thought.
The unicorn whinnied with terror.
But as the dragon approached, he spied the remains of the Teacher lying in the centre of the floor. Little of Jay remained, his head and shoulders, his lungs and heart and part of his spine. Dark Matter oozed like a black slime over these organs, keeping them alive.
The Aberration paused. Jay’s lifeless eyes were open and his mouth caught in a silent scream. The boy had been desecrated.
The Aberration roared. Fire, erupting from the tower could be seen from across the city.
He moved closer, his claws clicking on the floor, and sniffed the boy.
Jay had failed. Part of Erys, deep within, despaired.
The dragon leaned closer, its smoky breath gusting the boy’s hair.
Teacher?
The Aberration howled.
Erys’ blue eyes, so close now.
Teacher?
The boy’s eyes flicked towards him.
A wind lifted up, gusting in from the ocean. Like sails, the clouds of rising dust cloaking the tower were hoisted away. Golden shafts of morning light broke through. For a brief moment, the tower was bathed in light.
The dragon flew up, dragging its captive immortals with it. It roared and spun in a circle, throwing flames in a wide curve about the tower.
And Erys, who had broken the laws of the world, stepped into another world ...
... to find the boy.
The great wind blew through his mind. The sound was deafening ...
Erys stood on the dusty bank of a dry riverbed. He examined his hands - they were human hands, although for a brief, almost imperceptible moment, they were claws. He lifted his fingers to his face – lips, nose, eyes. A human face. He ran his fingers through his long, dark hair. He was as he had once been.
He surveyed his surroundings. The wide riverbed curved around the base of a long, low hillside. The river was a bed of sand. No water had flown her for thousands of years. He glanced around. There was no-one in sight. He called out.
“Teacher!”
His voice sounded strange in this empty place. Loud. Alone. He did not want to call again.
Flies buzzed in the air. Theirs was the only sound, that and the shuffle of his footsteps on sand. He followed the river around the hill. For a split second he saw the river as it once had been, filled with flowing, blue water, the hills on either side glowing green with grass. But nothing but sand and dust.
Then, as he walked, an ancient structure appeared above the crest of the hill. The ruins of a magnificent tiered palace, stepping down the hillside towards the river. Marble pillars and walls rose from the dust, and more were collapsed in piles. Erys rounded the hill and surveyed a vast site. Domes, towers, palace chambers, courtyards, fountains and gardens, all perished, all broken, like dusty bones in the earth.
A flight of crumbling stairs descended the hillside to an old pier by the river. The steps were cracked and clogged with dust. Beside the staircase lay two creatures.
One looked to be dead. A great bird coated with grey feathers, wings spread flat across the sand. Its head lay on its side. Its eyes were closed and its lusterless beak half buried in the sand.
The sight made Erys sad, for the bird had been beautiful once. He knew he had seen it before when it was alive, though he could not remember where or when.
A little way off lay the second creature. Unlike the bird, this creature was animate.
Erys recognized this creature immediately. It was himself in another world. His Spirit.
The dragon lay beside the flight of stairs, its long body curved across the balustrade and steps. Its head lifted in the air, it gazed upon the dead bird before it. It had blue eyes like Erys’. Its head was tilted to the side, like a dog half confused, half sympathetic. Smoke drifted from its nostrils and trailed away on the breeze.
Erys approached the stairway. He climbed over a broken balustrade and stood on the ancient pier. There he found Jay.
His Teacher stood facing the empty river. Jay’s head was bowed, his face hidden behind his hair. As Erys approached, the boy lifted a small stone and tossed it into the dry river. The stone curved through the air, plopped into a river now brimming with blue water, and settled with a clink on the now dry, sandy bed.
Erys knelt before the boy. He feared what it would cost to engage him, what it would mean to look into his eyes. For the boy was dead, and his Spirit gone from the world. It was against the Law to speak with the dead.
The Teacher looked up, his eyes black with Dark Matter.
Do you know this place? he asked, gesturing up the hill with a shake of his head.
No, whispered Erys.
It was once the Palace of Shih Huang-ti, said Jay quietly. Shih Huang-ti was the emperor of Ch’in, thousands of years ago. He was the first emperor. He unified Ch’in, made it the greatest civilisation the world had ever seen. But the price was terrible. It cost the ruin of millions of lives.
The boy looked across the river.
I was he, said the Teacher after a pause, once, in another life. I think this life, that I have led, my failure ... and the ruin I have brought to the world, is the price I have paid for earlier crimes. In another existence.
The boy looked at him. Erys could not read his shadowy eyes.
You are that ruin, Erys. You are the price.
Erys did not know what to say. He stared at the boy, trying to read his thoughts. The boy was an empty room, a page crumbling to dust. He turned to the grey bird lying on the ground beside the flight of stairs and realized that it and Jay were one and the same.
I failed Erys, said the boy. I thought I could destroy Dark Matter. I thought my purity could heal the rent in space and stem the flow of Dark Matter into our universe. And I could have, but for that which is already here. It is vast, a core of Dark Matter at the centre of our galaxy, immense and powerful, protecting the immortals. It would undo my work. It needs to be destroyed, but I do not have the smallest fraction of the power needed. I am not enough.
I could, said Erys. I have power now. If I wanted to.
No, said the Teacher. You are an aberration. You could not heal the rent. You would only make it larger. You would only make it worse.
The boy bowed his head.
Erys nodded and sat on the stone. He looked at the ruined palace. Memory returned. He too had lived here in another life. He remembered running down these stairs and boarding a boat on the river. He remembered traversing the river to the sea, and a small lizard that sat upon his shoulder.
He gazed at the dragon and his Spirit returned his gaze. The creature blinked its sleepy eyes, then turned back to the dead bird.
The boy faced Erys. Tears fell from his black eyes.
Scion, my life has been in vain, he said. My moments on the Earth were too brief. I loved, but I did not speak of my love in time. I never said the words that would have mattered. I looked at the world, but I never touched it.
The boy wept. Erys watched him. He remained detached and did not comfort the boy.
Life was a beautiful accident, said Jay at length, wiping tears from his eyes. Small candles in the dark night. But for want of strength I would have thrown light at the darkness. A dazzling, beautiful light. But for want of strength ... and now the universe is in shadow, and will be, forever.
The boy lowered his head.
Erys leaned closer, his eyes wide.
But for strength, he thought.
He heard the sound of a great wind, far off, far off ... a wind blowing between worlds.
Once, long ago, Erys had contemplated his own death. A sacrifice. As a man he had dived into the dark ocean and descended into the land of the dead, to save a man he loved. A sacrifice to save a man, to save the world.
... the sound of the deafening wind ...
... a choice being made, across worlds...
The Aberration turned from the remains of the boy on the tower, and faced the seven immortals wrapped in the coils of its body. The dragon opened its jaws. Their scent, their fear, flooded his senses. He was lawless. He cared nothing for their deaths. But everything for their taste.
As he had the General, Erys fed on the seven immortals. He drank their Spirits like a creature dying of thirst, quickly, desperately, as if there were no time to lose. As if someone would snatch them away. And despite their screams and their cries and howls, he consumed their golden Spirits, fully and completely. Not just their Spirits, but those of all the creatures they had fed upon over space and time. He ate them all, billions of life forms, not just from this planet, but from planets across the sky and the deep gulfs of space, where the ravages of Passage had left entire worlds barren, and life, in all its impossible forms, animals, plants, bacteria, and other alien life impossible to describe, had become food for the immortals’ consumption.
He ate it all. Billions of Spirits. The bounty of the great wind.
Those in the city who braved this terrible day saw somethin
g they would never forget. The dragon, larger than any living thing, coiling above the broken tower of the Museum, ripping and snapping at the creatures in its grasp, jets of golden light flowing about its jaws. They could hear the sounds of these creatures fighting for their lives, the cries and screams. And they saw the dragon, with all it consumed, grow larger.
As the Ascendants diminished, the dragon expanded. It grew larger than the tower, larger than the Museum. An unbelievable beast, bloated on the life of the universe. It grew and grew. Citizens in the streets screamed and ran as the creature filled the sky.
Silver light brighter than the sun spilled from between its scales. It flew upwards and stretched across the sky from the ocean to the distant hills. It howled as it finished the last of the Spirit feast.
Not enough! There must be more! It howled, and the Earth shook.
Buildings throughout the city shuddered and collapsed. The children and employees hidden deep beneath the Museum cried out as the ground around them shrieked. Sian and Rhada and Grace held the children of Ocean-Hearth in their protective arms, certain the hearth would slip into the ocean.
The beast flew through the sky, bellowing with the need for more. Dark Matter sprayed across the city like a rain of black tar. The Aberration’s head, larger than the entire Museum, reached towards the remains of the boy lying on the open tower. Jay was defenseless and ready to be consumed.
The creature’s jaws opened wide ...
... then slowly closed.
Erys still existed somewhere deep inside it, and as Erys it had a choice. It approached until the tip of its upper lip hung in space just above the boy. Its eyes larger than the Museum’s domes, its nostrils boiling with smoke and fire. Its body stretched straight upwards and its tail pierced the upper levels of the atmosphere.
And its upper lip, curled and scaled, as delicate as a kiss, as light as a feather, softly touched the remains of the lost boy ...
... and Erys, standing on the ancient pier, turned and faced the boy.
Teacher, he whispered.
The boy looked up.
Teacher, listen to me. I am the life of the universe. Perilous! Uncontrollable! Teacher, I am the light you seek, that will illuminate the darkness.
