by Kyle West
Isa listened quietly, and to my surprise, never interrupted. It was hard to talk about being in the pit, so I skipped that part. Strangely, talking about stepping off the cliff was easier than that.
“I’ve been trying to make sense of everything since,” I said. “How Isaru saved me. My place here when I don’t have a clue what’s going on. Whether I can even make it here...”
“Gods,” Isa said, after a moment. “You’re strong, Shanti. I don’t think I could ever survive all of that.”
“We don’t know our true strength until we’re tested, so don’t sell yourself short,” I said. “I still don’t think I’m there, yet. I feel like, any second...” I couldn’t make myself go on. “I don’t really want to talk about it anymore.”
“Of course,” Isa said.
It was quiet for a long while, so long that I thought Isa had fallen asleep. Her voice startled me when she spoke again.
“If you ever need anyone to talk to...I can’t promise to understand everything you’re going through, or everything you’ve gone through...but I can promise to listen.”
I swallowed, not really trusting my voice to answer. “Thanks. I mean that.”
“It’s not often we have an initiate from Colonia. You and Aela are the only ones here from that land.”
“You said you were from the Northern Wild. What’s it like there?”
“Honestly, everyone makes it out to be this horrible place of darkness and despair,” Isa said. “It’s really not like that at all, though I might be a little biased.”
“What about all the reversions, though? It sounds dangerous.”
“It can be, if you’re in the wrong spot. And no one in their right mind goes too far north, or too close to the Crater. One hundred miles north of here, civilization just...ends. That includes villages, and only Samalite patrols trek any further north than that. Village Coyal is small, but well-protected in the Northwood, on the Pilgrimage Road. The Road connecting all the cities of the Three Tribes...Sylva to Haven and to Hyperborea, when it existed. Some say the road stops here, but it doesn’t, really. It picks back up again close to Samalite holdings.”
“Some say that Hyperborea didn’t exist. Right?”
“They do, but they would be wrong,” Isa said. “I believe Hyperborea was probably the size of Haven. If it had never existed, then why does a road lead to it? Then again, I’ve heard that far enough north, the road goes away. It can be dangerous if you go too far from the islands we’ve carved for ourselves in the Northwood. Other than that, though...I miss it. I miss my mother, my father, my brothers and sisters, my friends...it’s hard being here. I can see why so many people quit, and when you are a Seeker, it’s a lifetime post.”
“You can’t leave?”
“You may, but it’s frowned upon,” Isa said. “Seekers are naturally Gifted and strong in their connection to the Xenofold. To reject it is like slapping the gods in the face.”
“That’s a bit harsh. Even if you’re strong, it can’t be for everyone, right?”
“Maybe,” Isa said. “But we’re not far enough along to worry about any of that, yet.” She paused for a moment. “I’ve been here six months, and...I haven’t even manifested.”
I wasn’t sure what to say for a moment. “Is that bad?”
“Everyone says not to worry about it, but how could I not? It’s discouraging when people do it without even thinking and I have to struggle.”
“If I could trade places with you, I would. You’re still young, so maybe that’s why.”
“You don’t understand. Not yet, anyway...so I forgive you. People who have a strong connection...you can sometimes tell because their eyes are lighter. It usually takes years for it to have a noticeable effect, but someone with, say, brown eyes will have their eyes become more golden.”
That reminded me of Isaru. Not only were his eyes gray, but his hair was as well. More of a silver, actually.
“Can it happen with hair, too?”
“If you’re talking about Prince Isaru, then yes...it’s due to his blood. His father doesn’t have silver hair, but his mother did, when she was alive. Silver hair is common among the nobility, and isn’t unheard of among the Samalites, and it can even be seen in the Wild Tribes as well. That said, it doesn’t happen to everyone with strong blood, but it is a sign.”
“Who was his mother, anyway?”
“The official stance is that she was a Samalite, like me, but others said that she was of one of the Wild Tribes. The nobility of the Three Tribes are often connected to one another, so when a new person shows up – as was the case with Kaia, Isaru’s mother – people take note of it. It is said that she was very beautiful. I don’t know how King Taris met her, but in short order they were married. However, Kaia died of an illness when Isaru was a child.”
“I’ve heard mention of the Wild Tribes a few times, but I still don’t exactly know what that means.”
“The Wild Tribes live deep in the Wild, as their name suggests. There are dozens...perhaps even hundreds...of Elekai tribes with no affiliation to the houses of Haven or Sylva, or the Samalites. They exist as one with the Wild, and it is among them that sometimes the purest blood can be found. However, their communities are insular. They live in areas so remote that no road could ever reach them, and sometimes, flying a dragon is the only way. Clerics sometimes make contact with these villages and even live among them, learning their languages, their customs, their culture, along with learning their oral histories and stories.”
“Where did they come from, then?” I asked. “I thought all Elekai were descendants of the gods.”
“The Three Tribes – or at least, the nobility among them – are descended from the gods, but in times long past, during the Great Dawn, people were drawn by the power of the Red Wild, and so became Elekai in that way. Eventually, that stopped happening, but the Wild Tribes have been living here longer than anyone else. It wasn’t until the Covenant’s Uprising that any of the Three Tribes lived permanently in the Red Wild.”
“You seem to know a lot about this,” I said.
“History is my passion,” Isa said. “I’ve been studying it ever since I arrived here as an initiate. How we’ve changed over history, and how we haven’t, is the most fascinating of all. The blood of our people, which once ran as strong a river, has split into many weaker streams, too numerous to count.” Isa paused. “That’s how Deanna described it to me, anyway. I wonder though...given enough years, could some of those streams converge? Maybe that’s why you have so much potential.”
“Both my father and mother were normal...Bloodless, I supposed it’s called.” It took me a moment to realize what I had done; I had spoken as if they were dead. “They are normal. And neither of my grandparents were of Elekai blood.”
“There has to be something, though,” Isa persisted. “Someone in your past had to have had it.”
“You’d figure the Covenant would’ve hunted everyone of Elekai blood out of Colonia by now. Even today, people there believe Elekai are something to scare the children with.”
Isa giggled. “That’s funny, because we are taught to be afraid of the Covenant. The Hunters especially.”
“Yes,” I said, my blood going cold. “They are very much to be feared, though I don’t think they have power outside Colonia.”
“We were driven out of our ancestral home, long ago,” Isa said. “Even today, many of the Elekai want to raise the banner over Colonia, but it never goes beyond talk. It is said that we tried in the past, but we were just met with failure.” She paused for a moment. “What’s it like there, anyway?”
“Colonia is a city of sandstone. Tall walls and towers, cathedrals, plazas, statues, shrines, parks...” I paused. “The richer parts of town are beautiful, but in a very different way from Haven or the Red Wild. I was from the Subura, which was the poorest part of the city. A lot of run-down tenements and dirt streets. The cathedrals to Annara, however, are beautiful.”
“It’s s
o strange Colonia worships her, too,” Isa said.
“It’s a different version of her,” I said. “A false version.” I paused. “Honestly, I’m not sure what to believe. You believe Annara was Elekai, but I’ve been taught the opposite my whole life.”
“I know a little of what the Covenant believes,” Isa said. “You’ve seen who the Elekai truly are. I mean...you’re Elekai. Why would someone who’s called the Good Goddess call for the extermination of an entire population?”
“That’s a good question. She couldn’t.”
“Exactly. We have learned, over the years, what hate can do. Especially during the Exile.”
“That was when the Elekai were forced out of Colonia, right?”
“Yes. It’s also known as the Long Wandering, which is a bit of a misnomer, because it only lasted a few years. However, half the Wild burned before the Covenant was forced to retreat. That was around the time the Elekai grew the Selvan to keep them out.”
“I’d always assumed it was the Elekai who attacked first. That was what I was always taught. Apparently not.”
“To understand the truth of history, you must lend one ear to the conqueror, yet two to the vanquished.” Isa paused. “It’s something Scholar Marlene told me.”
“Sounds like good advice,” I said. “Whatever the case, I still have a lot to learn.”
“We all do,” Isa said. “Seeker Marlene might have seemed harsh this morning, but she meant well. She’s also highly intelligent and knows more about history than probably anyone in the world. I don’t understand half of it, but maybe, with enough training, I will.”
“That’s good that you have a passion,” I said. “Maybe that’s your place here, after all.”
“Maybe,” Isa said.
We didn’t talk after that, and it wasn’t long before I was asleep.
***
I stood on the Sanctum’s back stone porch, and before me spread the back Grove. Nava Mountain rose in the distance, and above, the stars shone bright and countless. Dark trees swayed in the gentle breeze.
Despite the peaceful atmosphere, something about the Grove seemed sinister in the night. The red moon hung high above, lighting the gray paving stones – but that light could not penetrate the clusters of trees hanging thickly over the ground.
My feet walked down the steps of their own accord, down the path leading through the trees toward the mountain. It felt as if I were gliding, although I could still feel each of my bare footsteps on the cold stone beneath. When I entered under the first of the trees, darkness covered me. With my every step, my feeling of foreboding increased. It felt as if eyes watched me from the shadows. Surely this was a dream, but everything felt so real: the cool air, the wind in the leaves, the brushing of my steps against the stones.
The path twisted and the darkness deepened. I walked for a while with only the path in front, wondering when it was going to end until, at last, it made a straight, uphill course. The foreboding trees fell away, revealing night-shaded grass crawling up the slope of Nava Mountain, out of which grew scattered stands of trees. The Seekers’ Arch spanned the path ahead – the Seekers’ Arch I wasn’t allowed to pass.
But all the same, my feet compelled me onward, and my skin broke into a cold sweat when a voice resounded in my mind.
Remember...
I stopped short, but even as I did, the Arch grew larger in my view, as if it were advancing toward me. I wanted to back away, but was restrained by an unseen force.
Remember...
I was mere steps from being covered by the forbidden Arch. The path beyond lay hidden, warped and dizzying to behold, as if it were all being sucked into a vortex, the epicenter of which was the air within the arch.
The voice came again, louder. Remember...
The space within the Arch shimmered and glowed, growing brighter and brighter. I could feel its pull as I floated into the air, powerless to stop it. A low screech sounded, growing steadily in volume.
The voice returned, shockingly loud. Remember!
The shriek of the Arch reached a crescendo, followed by a swirling darkness and a feeling of increased density, as if I were sinking deep underwater. I tried to scream, but I heard nothing above the rising din.
Then, suddenly, it was all gone...the compression, the darkness, the terror. I opened my eyes, thinking I was awake, but all I could see was a desolate wasteland cloaked in night. The moon above hung crimson in a star-studded sky, the color of blood. The land was cold and cracked, dust shifting across the plain and its countless tiny fissures. In the distance rose low red mountains. The land was empty, haunted, and looked as if it had not seen a soul in centuries.
“Where is this?”
My words sounded in the quiet, seeming to dissipate the instant they were spoken. There was no wind, here...only the bleakness of a land stripped of thought and memory. No one had ever been here. If there had been life, it had fled long ago.
But fled from what?
I walked forward, surprised to look down and see I was wearing a shimmering blue dress, far finer and more intricate than anything I had ever worn. My hair, wavy, tumbled down to my bare shoulders, and the light of the eclipsed moon cast my skin coppery red. As I walked, the mountains remained still, so far distant that it would take hours and hours to reach them.
The thought of my being here for hours was terrifying beyond comprehension.
“I want to wake up.”
Nothing heard me. Even my own words seemed to slip from my mind like sand through a crack. It was hard for any thought to form, but all I could feel was the dread, increasing like a leaden weight in my heart.
“I want to wake up!”
Thunder boomed across the land, and the sand of the desert floor spread outward in a wave from a single point. I ducked just as it shot past, stinging me with its grains. When I rose, there was nothing.
What had I done?
It was then, in the distance, that I could discern the only moving shape in the vastness. The shadow of a pair of wings materialized, flying straight for me. A dragon, and judging by its shape, it was a Radaska. I remembered everything Isaru and Elder Isandru had told me about Mindless Radaska, and the fear I felt made me want to do nothing but run. However, my feet were stuck in place, and I was forced to watch as it got closer and closer.
Remember...
Was it the dragon that was speaking to me? This one seemed to be larger even than Jorla.
I watched until it swooped over my head, continuing to fly in a straight line as if it hadn’t seen me.
Remember the world of before, the voice came again. And remember the world to come. Remember who you were before. Remember who you will be.
“Why are you talking to me?” I asked, my voice helpless. “What do you want?”
Even now, our connection severs. An ancient poison works insidiously in the xen. It won’t be long until a balance must be acknowledged...
“What are you talking about?”
Hyperborea has set the scar that can never be healed. The Sea stands emptied. Memory fails, and the Xenofold will fade until all goes dark...
“This isn’t real,” I said. “I want out.”
My wish was granted as the desolation shimmered, then faded, until all that was left was darkness.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
I WOKE WITH MY HEART racing and my shirt bathed in a cold sweat. The room was quiet save for the soft snores coming from Isa’s side. It took me a moment to really believe that I was awake, such was the weight of panic I felt.
I tried to force myself to calm, but the images of my dream refused to go away, painting themselves in my mind. I lay in bed a few minutes longer, but I felt pressed by the need to go outside and get some fresh air to clear my head. I knew I could get into trouble, but getting out of this room was imperative.
So I sat up, finding my boots and cloak, taking care not to make any noise. Isa slept peacefully, so much so that it was hard not to be envious of her.
&nb
sp; The passageway was lit with blazing torches, and at the end of the corridor, wide bay windows overlooked the southeastern corner of the Grove, which met the sheer face of the mountain.
I went to the window, stepping softly and drawing my green cloak tightly. I looked down the corridor, seeing that it was empty, before I looked out the window to see the moon halfway above the western horizon. Dawn was perhaps three hours away.
To my left was an open archway and a few descending stairs that would lead me to the outer ramparts. I followed those stairs, finding a heavy wooden door which swung open easily, letting in a cold gust of wind.
I walked outside, shut the door, and walked along the rampart. From my height, I had a good view of the surrounding landscape: the tree-filled inner Grove along with the rising slope of Nava Mountain beyond the wall. To the south, I could see wide fields of xen spreading until they hit the horizon, broken only by large rocks and mesas.
I stopped walking when I was about halfway to the square tower that formed the Sanctum’s southwestern point, placing my hands on a crenellation in front of me. I couldn’t tell if the tower was manned or not, but it was hard to imagine anyone attacking the Sanctum. I doubted the Covenant even knew where it was.
I had only been standing there a couple of minutes when, out of the corner of my eye, I saw a figure walking slowly along the south wall. He seemed to be looking out at the night, as I was, and it would be few minutes before he crossed paths with me. I knew I should head back inside, but something told me to stay.
A couple of minutes later, the figure appeared from outside the nearest tower, stopping for a moment upon seeing me. I looked at him, seeing that his hood was down, the moonlight lighting his silvery hair and beard. It was Elder Isandru.
He held up a hand in greeting, and slowly made his way over, still watching the landscape outside the walls. He came to a stop about ten feet away, continuing to look outward.
