Shadows of the Son

by E L Strife

  He couldn’t stop the nervous laugh that slipped out. That explained so many things.

  Atana inspected him, the amusement in her eyes replaced by concern. “Try to rest at some point. You’re burning the wick at both ends.”

  Chapter 4

  THE BITING AWARENESS someone watched him crawled beneath Bennett’s skin. His body felt heavy, sweaty, and unwilling. He’d prayed exhaustion would summon a night of black, dreamless sleep so his mind could rest. Schematics and astrophysics and aerospace tactics swirled in his brain. It was too much.

  A cold shower calmed his nerves and put him to sleep. Now he couldn’t wake up. He begged for something to move. The pull of Ether was too strong. It called incessantly—a voice in the darkness.

  Bennett panicked, fearing for his life. In a fit of desperation, he took a deep breath and let go of the real world. If Atana could walk in the etherscape, why couldn’t he?

  The fall was like riding backward on a night transport through an endless bonfire, swirling embers rushing past in trails of amber and gold.

  Bennett jolted awake to a familiar ceiling of wooden crossbeams and gray-painted sheetrock. The sliding glass doors beyond his feet flickered with firelight.

  Clambering up from his sofa, Bennett lurched through the back door of his beach house and stopped.

  A man sat on the far corner of Bennett’s railing, one knee tucked up to his chest, the other foot dangling above the deck. His face was a creased version of Bennett’s own. Gilded armor graced his body. Over the chest plate was a symbol: a star centered in a moon atop a pedestal and framed with wings. The symbol of Prospectors.

  Its surface shimmed a menacing orange.

  Flaming wings stretched and folded in against his father’s back. The lazy pace of the ripping flames confirmed Bennett’s suspicions.

  He’d entered the realm of Ether.

  His father looked up, eyes aureate, and smiled. “There is no one in your room. It was a mental nudge from me.”

  Closing the door behind him without taking his eyes off of the wings, Bennett shuffled two daring steps closer. “I have so many questions.”

  “In time, they will be answered.” His father lowered his bent leg from the railing, resting his elbows on his knees as if the weight of his wings was exhausting. “You’ve made it through the second phase of your transformation, so we are permitted to talk. I am working many galaxies from yours. Ether is how we must connect.”

  “S-second?” Bennett stammered.

  “The house fire was your Kindling, the first test.” His father winced and rubbed his neck.

  It made Bennett wonder if the pain he felt in his shoulders would ever go away.

  “You showed courage amidst fear,” his father continued. “In return, the universe ignited the dormant spark within you. Vivification was phase two, testing your conviction. You chose others over yourself when you helped the Agutra slaves fight back. You helped Azure save Atana while she burned the abaddon deck. Duty took priority over your heart. The universe saw this and linked your hidden channel with Ether.”

  “Uh, okay, slow down.” Bennett scratched his head. “So there’s another test. Any chance you can tell me what it is?”

  “Yes and—” His father paused. “The universe made the mistake of exposing the stages once. It will take my life before it lets you know what is not yours to know.”

  Bennett slunk back against the side of his house, digging his palms into his eyes to push a headache away. This is not what I need right now. “If I can’t know what I’m supposed to do, how can I know what is right?” he asked, lowering his hands in helpless abandon. “What if I screw up? What if I die? There are millions of kiatna counting on me.”

  “We were chosen, designed, for this. The universe won’t transition you until it knows you’re ready,” his father replied.

  Bennett rolled a shoulder, trying to break free of the building tension in his muscles. “You didn’t answer my question. What if I die?”

  Drawing in a deep breath, his father let it out slow. “It is—difficult—to kill a Prospector, though it has happened.”

  Bennett reached a curious hand toward a flaming feather of one of his father’s wings.

  The Prospector jerked back. “We cannot touch one another until your fifth phase. You are not ready to handle the power of the universe, despite your open channel to it. A river’s dam cannot hold back the weight of an ocean.”

  Frustrated, Bennett chewed the inside of a cheek to keep from retorting. He felt more isolated every day. Atana understood how he felt, though he couldn’t quite return the favor.

  His father continued. “Listen to your dreams. The universe is sending you information. If you do not heed its warnings, the Suanoa could tear everything apart, including Halcyon, the dimension souls rest within.”

  A quiet grumble slipped Bennett’s throat. “How can I do that if I can’t remember anything when I wake up?”

  “It’s because you’re resisting the change, son,” his father said with slight condescension.

  “Of course, I’m resisting!” Bennett bared his hands before his father, his fingertips tingeing with gold. “What if I’m the problem? What if I hurt someone with this? I can’t control the fire!”

  “It will take time and practice. Yes, you need to be careful. It is why I left home when you were so young.”

  Bennett studied the quiver in his father’s mouth, finding no words for the slash of pain in his heart.

  “Yes, I left,” his father clarified. “I was more—explosive during my second phase. I thought it safest to stay away.”

  “And the house fire?” Bennett asked.

  “Not everyone likes Prospectors.” His father traced a golden guard on his forearm and cleared his throat. “Nakio will be best able to help you sort your night visions.”

  Bennett looked back at the sofa they’d made-out only a few nights ago. Bennett shoved his hands in his pants pockets to keep himself from fidgeting. “Since I met her, I’ve felt this compulsion to protect her. Why? She doesn’t need me.”

  His father sighed, and silence seemed to last an eternity. Still, there was a peaceful element in Bennett’s mind standing there beside his father. As the sun sank over the ocean, it drizzled liquid bronze over the darkening water. The salted breeze ruffled a few of the Prospector’s feathers. His father didn’t appear to notice.

  “The universe doesn’t make mistakes,” his father finally said. “But sometimes, one electron can be the difference between Beryllium and Boron: a metal produced by stellar nucleosynthesis, and a metalloid created by supernovae and cosmic ray spallation. It’s a balancing act to keep all dimensions stable. Occasionally things get thrown off. Resolving these things is part of our duty.”

  His father swayed as if fighting a voice inside his head. His wings spread and flapped as if in disagreement with whatever he was hearing. Bennett knew by his father’s hesitation something was wrong in the way life was playing out.

  “You were designed to be with her, to protect the last of her kind. There are trillions of Suanoa leeching off of this universe, and only two La’kian left.”

  Bennett ripped his hands out of his pockets. He’d heard rumors of La’kian from his days on Agutra: humble, empathetic, self-sacrificing, with a preference for the dark. With—her? “She’s—What do you mean, her kind? She’s three different species, none of which were listed as La’kian in Command’s files.”

  His father gave him a single slow nod. “La’kian, an Origin, like Suanoa, like us. She does not know the true power of her spark. It was enough to reignite Azure’s upon his death in Testing. He was expected to die. Command suspects but doesn’t know.”

  Bennett groaned in disbelief and paced the wooden deck. “None of this makes any sense.”

  “Any descendant of the three primeval Origins carries their spark, no matter their species,” his father added. “The same is true for the secondary Elites: Mirramor, Primvera, and Orionate, those designed to b
alance the reckless power of the first. Novas are Xahu’ré with La’kian ancestors. She and Kios are the last weapons the universe has against the Suanoa and must be protected at any cost.”

  “Is that all,” Bennett remarked facetiously, pausing to look over at the blazing man.

  An umber brow arched on his father’s face. He didn’t blink or appear amused.

  “Sorry.”

  “Azure doesn’t remember what the Suanoa did to him after his first M45 flight.” His father sat up and braced his hands on the railing. “They tried to infuse him with their spark, with Kilavi from Primes, and Auralis from Mirramor. Tried to make him an equal to a La’kian because of Atana. His spark rejected everything until he found her again.”

  Bennett leaned back against his house in a depressed huff. “Let me guess. I’m not supposed to tell him.”

  “No.”

  Inhaling deep, Bennett puffed his cheeks and released the breath. He wanted to ask why he couldn’t so he could stop hiding things from the man. It felt wrong, but his father hadn’t given him any reason to believe there was wiggle room with the universe’s demands. Maybe keeping the secret was part of his test. “Does Azure know they’re the last?”

  Dismay settled with ease on the Prospector’s face as if it often made its home there. “Too few Xahu’ré ancients left to pass the knowledge on. And my understanding is Azure’s Nova qualities are dependent on her spark. If she dies, he loses his gift.

  “I know this may be a lot to absorb in such a short time—”

  Perturbed, Bennett looked off at the craggy cliffs surrounding his home, glazed in wavering orange light as if demons encircled him, dancing in ritual celebration of coming death. He wanted to leave, to deny what he was hearing and seeing.

  “What’s on your mind, son?”

  Bennett pressed his mouth to the backs of his folded fingers and slid down the wall to sit on the deck. Thunder clouds rolled in overhead as his exhaustion and frustration melded into impatience. “If the universe doesn’t know everything, how can I trust it?”

  “Because, for now, it still knows more than the Suanoa.”

  Bennett’s stomach knotted with doubt and insecurity, siphoning the strength from his voice. This, the war, the secrets, it was too much to manage. “And what of Nakio and Kios? Where do I fit in now that Azure’s alive and in what I’m guessing was supposed to be my place?”

  His father’s feathers rustled in the breeze. “Work around him. You and Nakio still have the power to bring about the permanent downfall of the Suanoa.”

  “Us? But I thought you said the La’kian were the weapon. Aren’t you and I just the guides?”

  “Yes, but we also partake in battle. Some call us the embodiment of karma. You must stay by her side. Fill your role as a Universal Protector. Keep her safe, but don’t hinder her. Azure does it enough. Kios is the key to the future. Protect the boy with your life.” His father stood on the railing, eyes brightening to hot iron coils. “I am sorry. I am being told I must say no more.”

  Bennett raked a hand through his short hair in exasperation.

  Creases deepened on his father’s face. His words fell like Bennett’s hope. “She cannot know what was supposed to be.”

  Bennett glared at the luminous tips of his fingers. Orange embers flaked off of his skin in glittering whorls. Was there anything he could tell others? He clenched and unclenched his jaw until it had loosened enough to talk. “My whole life is a damned contradiction.”

  For many long breaths, he watched his father stare out at the fading shimmer of sun on the night sea.

  “Not a day goes by I don’t think of your mother, miss her, you, Jack. I long for dreams of them.” His voice shuddered, and he paused to swallow. “It gets easier, the constant fighting, burning, not sleeping, not eating.”

  Yet the cold hollowness of his words told Bennett easier meant nothing close to comfortable.

  “Sometimes, you just have to slow down and focus, as you did with Atana’s spark.”

  Bennett perked up. “You saw that?”

  “Warping time transitions us into a different dimension of reality, permitting us to see things most can’t. You’ll spend a lot of your service doing so.” His father’s radiant eyes tracked something over Bennett’s shoulder. “I know you do not trust many people because of your days on the streets. But trust Nakio.”

  Bennett clambered up from his place on the deck to see her pass through the glass of his slider like a ghost. Her long hair was brushed out and looked downy soft.

  “I apologize for intruding,” she said.

  “It’s quite all right. I was about to take my leave anyway.” The Prospector turned around on the railing, one eye blinking privately at Bennett. We will talk again soon. His voice rumbled in Bennett’s mind. It’s easier if you don’t fight it.

  Bennett watched his father’s wings lift him above the clouds with a single thrust. Atana had said the same thing. It made him wonder if she and the universe were that in sync, or if the universe had put the words in her mouth for him. The line between free will and fate blurred more every day.

  Worry twisted her face as she looked from the sky to Bennett. Warm winds swirled around the deck from the Prospector’s departure.

  “Must be nice to see him again. Wish I—never mind.” She put a hand on his shoulder. The tension he’d become accustomed to subsided beneath her touch. “How’d it go?”

  The sweet, drugging spice of her invaded his brain. He looked deep into her eyes, the yellow rings of her irises like his molten heart in the glacial stardust of her hands. He wanted to tell her, confide in her, because deep inside, he was afraid of what holding all this in might do to him.

  His vision blurred and grayed. Bennett knew he’d wake soon. It wasn’t his choice. He’d stay there forever if the universe let him.

  Jameson?

  I have to go. Trailing fingers over her cheek, Bennett watched his hand disintegrate into a thousand golden fireflies. I’m sorry.

  He cursed inside and closed his eyes.

  Bennett awoke to the soft mattress beneath him, his blankets kicked off and piled against the wall. Cool air graced him from the vents above. He was a fit of nerves that rank of sweat.

  A fist pounded on his door. “Rhassa Grom—” Azure grunted. “Bennett! Open the door! Sahara— Nakio is pacing the room. All I could understand from her was your name! What did you do to her in Ether?”

  Swirling in the aftermath of his father’s visit, Bennett didn’t care to acknowledge Azure’s demands.

  “Did you hear me?” A string of muffled words in Xahu’ré trailed an irascible snort.

  Bennett’s eyes cracked open, illuminating his room like sunlight on an ocean floor. He checked the clock on his wristband. The hour-long visit with his father had taken a mere ten minutes.

  Bennett watched the passing seconds slow.

  Slow down, his father had said. He’d brought a lot of responsibilities to Bennett’s attention, things Bennett didn’t know how to handle. But this skill, he would definitely use.

  —Paramor—

  Chapter 5

  SHIFTING THE ACHING remnants of wings beneath his cloak, Paramor tried to find a comfortable position. He trudged with Rimsan along the dusty path to Miush’s hut in a neighboring agricultural sector of Semilath Agutra. Millions of tiny white lights overhead showered the blossoming fields and orchards in an exhausting blaze. Everything the Suanoa did was forceful.

  The pangs in the nubs of Paramor’s broken grew to near intolerable levels. But that’s not why he left his people under the care of his perimeter guards.

  I know we are not going for you. Rimsan grumbled beside him as they walked. He had shredded a quarter of his indigo flumes, his shield capabilities were limited, and Kilavi wouldn’t manifest. I do not have time for this. Sergeant Bennett has requested status updates on Agutra. I promised Qurch I’d help move the injured from his sector to Healer Enox’s hut. Ceema awaits final instructions for guard teams in
the lower sectors—

  Paramor stopped listening. Everyone had responsibilities on an Agutra. It was always life or death.

  They left behind the sweeter scents of the fields for the stale piss and burnt flesh of the cold hallways, which snaked through the ship like jagged veins of steel. The bodies and parts left from the mutiny had been blessed and sent to join the stars by his hand, some by other Healers and Saemas. Suanoa had no life-spark to free, and the delegates had been tossed in a voided plasma chamber then ignited into a twister of fiery lightning and ash.

  Thousands had celebrated. Paramor felt relief and joy for them, but none for himself or the days ahead.

  In the deepest halls of the ship where shadows lived and workers most often disappeared, Paramor lifted a hand, summoning forth an orb of light to guide their way. It fizzled as it came to life and drifted out into the air before them.

  Rimsan stopped rattling his to-do list. “Whoa, what is all that?”