by Kyle West
I turned my attention from the Point of Origin to focus on the reason for my coming. On the shore, standing twice as tall as any of the other dragons, was Tiamat himself. His wings were held wide, twice the distance of a normal dragon’s. Even with the distance, I could see his watchful eyes glowing brightly. There was no mistaking who they were peering at. I felt the weight of that gaze, the sheer intensity. His tail swished back and forth, almost as long as the rest of his body. I noticed all the other dragons giving him a wide berth.
Our escort dragons landed one by one on the shoreline, and Flame landed shortly after. Though Flame was larger than the average Askaleen, compared to Tiamat the Elder Dragon King, he was tiny. He bowed his head in supplication.
My friends helped me down. Within the minute, they were carrying me toward the Sea for healing while the rest of the Elder Dragons, Tiamat included, watched on. It took everything to not cry out in pain as I was carried. I couldn’t do that, not with him staring right at me. I was Elekim, and needed to be strong.
They waded me out into the ichor.
“Lower me in,” I said. “It’ll take care of the rest.”
I felt myself lowered into the Sea’s warm embrace. I sunk completely below the surface. I no longer felt as if I was a part of the world; I floated between it and the Xenofold, breathing in the Sea’s essence, not fighting the liquid as it filled my lungs. It infused me with more life than air ever could. An aura of radiance surrounded my vision, as ichor fused into flesh and bone.
A stream of dreams ran without pause in front of my eyes; dreams of childhood, dreams of things that could have been, dreams of what could be. I saw Earth wasted away; I saw a Great Tree filled with the pain of hundreds of souls; I saw a blue-skinned man with red eyes staring balefully. I didn’t understand what these things meant.
But at some point, however long it took, the visions, and the healing, came to an end. My eyes opened, and I reached up to the surface. My head broke from the ichor, and its life was ejected from my lungs and was filled with air once again.
* * *
My friends pulled me from the Sea, and I lay on the rocky shoreline, trying to reconnect my mind, still half-dreaming, to reality.
Isaru was kneeling beside me. “You okay?”
I made myself sit up. I moved my hips and my right arm, both of which felt stiff, but otherwise unharmed. Last of all, I shrugged my right shoulder. No pain pierced me, as it had before. My clothing, too, had been completely cleaned.
I nodded. “How long was I under?”
“Several hours,” he said, quietly.
By this point, the others had gathered around. Shara offered a hand to help me up, which I took. I felt a moment of lightheadedness, but it was only for a moment. I felt completely fine after a few seconds passed. My thoughts were clear and lucid for the first time in days, though the disturbing images from my dreams still lay on the surface.
The images fell away and were soon forgotten. “I feel fine. Ready for whatever’s to come.”
Shara nodded, satisfied. “All right. Tiamat is that way.”
She stepped aside and pointed, to where Tiamat watched me from the edge of a cliff about fifty feet inland. His dark scales and bright, white eyes gave him a menacing appearance. His wings were massive, even folded as they were now. I had to crane my neck to even look at his face.
Since it didn’t seem as if he was going to fly down to me, I walked up to him, motioning the others to stay behind.
As soon as I grabbed for a handhold on the cliff, his voice entered my mind. Fly with me, Anna.
He then jumped, spreading his wings as he fell to the ground. Even so, the earth thundered as his claws sunk into the xen below, the vibration of which nearly made me fall. Isa did fall, a shocked expression on her face.
Tiamat lowered himself, seeming to strangely condescend himself in doing so. It seemed wrong to ride on a dragon as great as him, though I had ridden Quietus before.
Hurry, Elekim, he said.
So, for the first time in my life, and probably the last, I rode on Tiamat. It took much longer to climb onto his back than onto Flame’s. Once settled, I had a commanding view of the surrounding beach. My friends seemed so small below.
“Be careful, okay?” Isa called up.
There was no time for anything more. Tiamat raced forward, his feet entering the Sea before his wings flapped to take flight. The Sea below fell away as we raced in the direction of the center of the Sea.
* * *
We flew for a couple of minutes directly over the Sea of Creation, passing close to the shining, and almost blinding, Point of Origin, where the two seas met: the Sea of Creation, and the Sea of Destruction. The two halves coalesced, forming a large whirlpool in the center of which lay the physical entrance to the Xenofold.
Tiamat was the first to break the silence. With the perverse Xenofont no longer pulling life from the Sea, I can dream here again. And my dreams have troubled me greatly, beyond mere expression of words.
I swallowed, remembering again what I had seen while being healed by the Sea. What dreams, Tiamat?
It was a moment before he answered. To say that the fate of the world falls upon your shoulders, Elekim, would be a gross understatement.
Understatement, how?
It is not the fate of the world, Tiamat said. It is the fate of worlds. Do you know what I mean?
Maybe, I said. I know it’s not just our world under threat by the Radaskim.
No, Tiamat said. It isn’t.
I braced myself for what I thought would be Tiamat’s explanation of he and the Elder Dragons’ plan for escaping Earth. To try anew on another world.
But his next words dashed that notion entirely. I mean to fight to the bitter end, Anna, whether there is victory or not. I cannot flee when my parents have sacrificed themselves. They did so, that the rest of us might fight on. I could never betray their memories, their sacrifice. This world is not perfect, Anna. But nothing ever is, and if we await perfection before we ever dare to try, then we shall be waiting until the death of the universe.
All I could feel was an intense sadness for Askal and Quietus. And for Tiamat, who had to live on without them. Without Quietus especially, I would never have been brought safely into the world. I couldn’t believe they were both gone. For Tiamat, the pain must have been unimaginable.
They wouldn’t have died if they believed the fight hopeless, I said.
They died for one reason only, Tiamat said. That I might live.
He was quiet for a long while, and I felt the weight of those words, and saw that it was true.
They died even when I didn’t believe, he said. Why would they do that?
They loved you, Tiamat, I said. That’s why.
This burden . . . he said. I must lead the dragons, Elekim. So here we have come, to protect the Sea, and to learn the future, as best we can. But my dreams are haunted of defeat, Tiamat said. He banked slightly right, so that we were now flying over the frothing, violent, black Sea of Destruction, the opposite of the calm pink Sea of Creation. These dreams are not from the enemy, Anna. They are from the Xenofold itself. From even beyond the Xenofold. If we are to have victory, then all must be gathered here for the final fight. I have had dreams of your intentions; you are probably not aware of this, but the dreams of Elekim are powerful indeed, and create echoes within the Xenofold. The most powerful among us can decipher those echoes and guess your intent.
I see, I said. I wondered just how much of my mind Tiamat could read just by putting together fragmented echoes of my dreams. The thought made me wary.
The Point of Origin must be guarded from him, at all costs. I don’t know what he seeks here, but I know he seeks it. And attaining it will grant ultimate victory for him. He and his vessels landed on this world before the Hyperfold was ultimately destroyed. The Xenofold is vulnerable to his thoughts. For Odium is a Radaskim Xenomind both dark and ancient. He was there in the beginning, during the Aberration, and his power is
great enough to bend the Xenofold to his will. It is not an accident Askalon, greatest of all Radaskim Xenominds, sent him here to Earth. He means to destroy this world utterly and leave no room for doubt.
Askalon. It was not just the dragons’ homeworld, then, but also the name of their leader. Their version of Elekim.
The Xenofold is weak, Anna. Weaker than you know. I fear it was saved from the Hyperfold too late. A direct attack from Odium’s mind, if he’s close enough, would end it for good. This Sea of Destruction below us is required to maintain the Xenofold’s connection to the Xenomatrix. But with the right nudging, it can become the dominant power here, and all who are part of the Xenofold will become slaves of the master of the Sea of Destruction.
And that master would be Odium, I said.
Yes, Tiamat said. This I have dreamed. I’m still seeking answers in prophecies and riddles. A lonely path, because even the best dreamers among the dragons cannot probe as deeply as I can into the Xenomatrix, from which come the final answers that may save us. As well, those answers might destroy us. To find those answers, we must protect the Sea from Odium for as long as we can. Nothing else matters but that, for in that lies the path to ultimate victory.
Has there been any attack here yet?
No, Tiamat said. Not yet. But it is coming. My dragons must stay to defend the Sea. Odium, even now, is hard at work turning the Red Wild to his cause, creating a reversion in the south greater than any that has ever existed in this world. It’s with this power that he hopes to contest the awesome power of the Sea of Creation. Until this reversion grows, he can’t come near this sacred place. But as more of the Red Wild falls under his influence, he can push back at the Xenofold itself, until the day comes that he can claim it as his, totally.
There was silence for a time as I considered Tiamat’s words. The dark sea below came to an end as we approached the opposite shore, its cliffs so sheer and sharp that they were undoubtedly unscalable on foot. Looking back, the shore we had started on was barely discernible in the distance, lost in the luminescence of the ichor.
The Xenofold has shown me disaster, Tiamat said. I saw Haven in flames. I saw the bodies and bones of countless humans. I saw them screaming as the crawlers tore them asunder. Women and children dying as they fled north. I saw your people starving, shambling like wakened corpses as the pitiless snows fell. Here, Tiamat paused. I saw even Elekim fleeing before Odium’s wrath.
You’re saying that Haven will fall? I asked. You’re saying it’s pointless to even fight?
This is what the Xenofold has shown me.
How do I stop that from happening, then? I asked. Do your dreams tell you that?
I already knew the answer before he said it. No.
Then it’s pointless. Why fight if we cannot win?
That is the answer I seek here, Tiamat said. I hope to learn from the Nameless One what I must do to defeat Odium. But his answers are elusive, and his prophecies show nothing but folly.
You need to be careful with him, I said. His interests and ours are not the same.
I know, Tiamat said. But what choice do I have? I’ve wrestled with him in the Xenofold, projecting my mind into the Xenomatrix where he resides. I’ve deciphered many of his epigrams and riddles, but just as many go unsolved. He speaks nothing but the truth; such is his nature. But the truth he speaks is never the truth you expect.
That sounded about right. The Nameless One hadn’t ever outright lied to me about how to end the Hyperfold, but he also never told me it would be pointless to try while Shal could control the flow of time, which allowed Isaru to rescue him. In the end, we had to figure it out for ourselves.
I’ve dealt with him before, I said. So, is he where you’re getting your information from?
It was a long moment before Tiamat responded. Yes. Of this prophecy, I have no doubt. I know there will be a fight at Haven, and that Odium will be victorious. This I have seen. I implore you to take whatever forces you can and bring them here, to Ragnarok Crater, for the only defense that matters. With your support, there may be enough time to discover Odium’s weakness. In that lies our only hope of victory.
There was silence for a long time after that. I considered my options. All the pieces were already moving toward a confrontation at Haven. There may not even be time to stop that battle, even if I wanted to. I had worked hard to convince many people that Haven was where we needed to make our stand. We would have over five hundred dragons, hundreds of cannons, and Shen’s airships, too. It was the best chance, as I saw it, to stop Odium. It was the only place the terrain favored us, and centrally located enough to be a mustering point for thousands of soldiers.
And I didn’t trust the Nameless One. But if Tiamat was right, and said we were doomed to defeat there, the best option might be to retreat north to Ragnarok Crater. How did I sell that to Lord Harrow, to the Elder Council, to Guardian Mian? Where did that leave the Novans, who would be surrounded and destroyed before they ever came around to helping us? And where did it leave the thousands of people who would, or could, not make that journey?
I just couldn’t believe abandoning Haven was the right call. Perhaps Tiamat believed the Nameless One, but I certainly didn’t.
I can’t do that, Tiamat. I can’t abandon my people. I don’t think I could convince them. What would they think if I told them the fight was hopeless, especially after working so hard to get everyone to work together?
I don’t know, Tiamat said. You must try, though. You must try, Elekim. These are no mere dreams. Just as Sylva fell, so will Haven.
That is not sure, I said. I don’t trust the Nameless One, from whom you’re getting your prophecies.
Please, Tiamat said. Take what men and supplies you can. The weather is fair now, but it won’t be forever. Take the opportunity now to come here, while there is still time.
I can’t, Tiamat, I said. I can’t abandon Haven. Thousands would die. I can’t betray them by refusing to fight.
I could sense Tiamat’s frustration, his frustration with humanity’s lack of foresight. Maybe some deep part of me knew it was useless to fight at Haven, but a bigger part knew not to trust the Nameless One, even if Tiamat was sure that his prophecies would prove true.
I cannot force anything on you, Tiamat said. Whatever your decision, I will continue seeking more revelations. And you . . . I wish you luck, Elekim. I’m telling you what I’ve seen. Perhaps this prophecy was given not to avoid the Battle of Haven, but to fight it. Sometimes, temporary defeat is necessary for ultimate victory, though I see not how.
I didn’t have the energy to argue. I had made my decision. I could never trust the Nameless One or his revelations. Not after last time.
Chapter 18
We landed on the black, rocky shoreline, where my friends were waiting with the rest of the Elder Dragons.
I eased myself off Tiamat’s back, only to be immediately approached by Shara. “What did he say?”
“Nothing that gave me any confidence,” I said.
I told them what Tiamat told me, even as Tiamat watched me. I wondered what, if any, information was privileged, but Tiamat hadn’t told me that I couldn’t share it.
A few minutes later, all of them were quiet as they thought about his prophecy.
“What do you think?” I asked.
“Even as a prophetess with the Gift, I can’t make anything of it,” Fiona said. “Tiamat might be right, at least in a sense.”
I shook my head. “I don’t know what to think. My hunch is that we need to defend Haven. I don’t trust the Nameless One.”
“That’s my inclination, too,” Isa said. “The Nameless One has his own game he’s playing, one we can’t begin to guess at.”
“Defeat is defeat,” Isaru said. “If we’re doomed to lose the Battle of Haven, why not preserve lives while we still can?”
“Maybe I should look for more clarification,” I said. “We’re right here at the Point of Origin. What’s to stop me from talking to the Name
less One myself? If Tiamat is powerful enough to probe into the Xenomatrix, I probably am, too. I’ve spoken to him before.”
“Do you think the Nameless One will tell you something that he hasn’t told Tiamat?” Isaru asked.
“I can’t answer that. Not unless I try.” I turned to look back at the glowing horizon, toward the entrance of the Xenofold. “When Anna was alive, entering the Xenofold meant the possibility of never leaving. Even now, it’s not a choice made lightly.”
“Tiamat did just that,” Shara said. “In fact, it seems he means to continue doing that.”
“At great strain,” I said. “The point is, it’s an unnatural act that isn’t meant to be done without thought. There are no guarantees.”
“You’re Elekim,” Isa said. “You’re in charge of the Xenofold.”
I couldn’t help but smile at the notion. “That’s what I used to think. Now, I’m starting to realize the Xenofold is in charge of me. What does it want me to do? Was Tiamat’s prophecy something I was supposed to hear? If not, does that mean I should fight the battle at Haven as if I don’t know the outcome? Or does knowing the prophecy give us some information that will make the battle winnable?”
“All those questions are impossible to answer,” Shara said. “We’ll have to decide for ourselves. Fate is fate, but the choice is still in our hands.”
All of us looked out at the Sea. There could be answers waiting for us there. But once we were in, was there any guarantee we would make it back to Haven in time for the battle? The nature of time might be warped. What could be a few hours in the Xenofold might be days, or even weeks, on the outside.
“We have two choices,” Shara said. “Fight here, as Tiamat would have us do. Or defend Haven and be defeated.”
