Zane couldn’t believe the coincidence, Aaron and Tera, brother and sister? She had thought about it while back in New York, but could it be true?
“What tribe lived here, Gordell? The D’anaa?” she asked excitedly.
Gordell seemed taken aback by the question. J.J. winced as Gordell's eyes blanked out to white, his gaze shifting inward for the answer for a few seconds. When Gordell returned, he seemed shocked. “Yes, one of the tribes was the D'anaa! How did you know?” It was his turn to be curious.
A wave of pleasure swept over Zane. “My brother, Aristedes, he was here, he saved Aranu of the D’anaa tribe way back in 2400 BC. He was dying in the desert and Aristedes somehow heard his telepathic cry for help and brought him to the twenty-third century. He was a great friend to us all and I believe he and Lynn were in love.” She looked over at J.J. who seemed surprised that Lynn Kellis could fall in love with anyone. She carried on: “Aaron, as we called him, was searching for his sister, but his brother had tried to kill him. I think Tera, or Chalant, as we know her now was his sister. But who was their brother?”
Gordell’s gaze shifted away again as answers came to him from within. The others looked between Zane and Gordell following the story with rapt attention.
“Yes, T’ra was Aranu’s sister and their brother was P’ntar. He disappeared and was never heard from again.”
“P’ntar?” Zane repeated to herself. “Hmm, didn’t come across him.” Another thought struck her instantly. “P’ntar. Penthor? Penthor Thane?” She stared at the other in disbelief.
“He did have a guarded past,” Sceptre said.
Zane shrugged. “It could make sense if he was involved with Van Tager, but he didn’t have any powers. Interesting though. Thank you, Gordell. I hope Aaron and Chalant caught up with each other. I can see them all now, Aaron and Lynn, Chalant and Alpha Rion—what a great family that would be.” She laughed with pleasure which brightened the cavern's atmosphere.
Sadness drew over Gordell's face as something was revealed to him by his Chryrians. The past had not passed as Zane would have wished. But maybe a better future could be rescued.
His thoughts were interrupted by a curious Azure. “How have the Chryrians survived for millions of years? Surely their energy would have dissipated by now?” she asked.
Gordell went quiet, seemingly reluctant to talk about it. But after a while admitted. “Well, for one, they do have tiny amounts of offspring in a way, but there are other ways. They don’t talk about it much, but I suppose you can call it psychopophagy. A few volunteers give up their energy to the others to feed on, which lasts for tens of thousands of years. There have been many sacrifices.” Gordell eyes fell to the ground in remembrance of past Chryrians he never knew, but felt within himself.
They remained in silence for a while, the sound of last meat, fat and bone chewing breaking the awkward and sombre moment.
“Och!” Gordell's sudden loud outburst startled everyone as he jerked up. He had remembered the mystery which had so intrigued him when he had first come to the cave.
“Aerl, I just remembered . . .” gaining everyone’s attention as he picked up his distinctive sword. “I found writing on the sword, the blade. Maybe one of you would recognise it.” He offered the sword and his meticulous crystalator recordings to Aerl.
Aerl studied the sword admiringly, using the crystalator in his visor to scan the sword and copy data from Gordell’s crystalator. He was sure the revealed script was archaic Celestian, but he couldn’t interpret everything. But then he reached a name which was unmistakable.
His face opened up in surprise. “'Havens Hand of the Celestri Clan, wielder of the Havensword.'” he read the inscription. “This was lost in the depths of time and war. Universe!” he whispered in awe. “Gordell, where did you get this from?” His tone was hushed, reverent.
Forgetting his argument with Urana, he passed her the sword for her perusal, who silently, graciously accepted.
Gordell shrugged. “I’ve always had it. It’s been handed down in my family since before we met the Astrals. Our legends say it was the very first sword on Earth, given to an ancestor who aided a strange warrior from a faraway land. We called it the Adamsword. But we never knew about the writing on the sword or the owner’s name.” He stared at the sword with a new pride. “Havens Hand, who was he?”
A rare smile stole across Aerl's face. “Well, our legends tell us that before the first Celestian Knights, there was another heroic tradition: the Celestri Clan. One particular generation disappeared in the midst of a battle, never to be heard from again. Maybe they came to Earth, too. Havens Hand was the father, Haven Mark who in turn sired Teo Venga, one of the missing Celestri who held the sword last. You are certainly very lucky to have this sword, Gordell. It will keep you alive.”
Urana passed the sword back to Aerl, ignoring the others who wanted to handle it. Aerl returned it and the crystal to Gordell.
“That is all I can tell you about the sword, but hopefully the crystalator recordings will yield more information. Give it some time.”
“Thank you, Aerl. It is a privilege to know the sword’s history. Looks like we were all meant to meet together for this final battle.”
“I agree,” Zane said, glad some peace had returned to the cavern. “And I’ve been thinking . . .”
“Uh, oh,” Azure rolled her eyes.
“Hey, seriously,” Zane took the tease amid the laughter. “For me to have aged so rapidly, I must have gained some temporal powers besides speed and learned to use them by now. If I have, then I can port us right into the fortress, no need for long exposed marches. What do you think, Aerl?”
Aerl thought about it for a few moments. “Test it! Give it a go. Try time-porting somewhere.”
Zane brimmed with eager anticipation at the thought of her first solo time-port. “Okay, I’ll see if I can reach the other Astrals, get some help.”
“What, through all this time? Millions of years have gone by,” Azure almost scoffed.
Urana hissed her disapproval at Azure, quieting her. Beside her, J.J. also held his tongue for fear of another scoulding.
“It's a good idea, Zane,” Urana encouraged her. “How will it work?”
Zane explained as simply as she could. “The Chronopolis is a state of time. It can be found by an Astral from any point in time,” she noted. “I’ll be back in a sec . . .”
She closed her eyes remembering everything she had been taught about time-porting. It was like opening a door first in the mind and then allowing temporal energy to flood in until you were through the door's threshold and in the temporal energy flow. It presented like a shining door in front of her (and like a round flash of white light to the others who gasped). She entered and blinked out of existence before anyone could wave goodbye . . .
. . . and hit a dead-end wall of compressed time as she emerged in the Astral dimension. Zane rubbed her nose where it had impacted against an invisible force of energy. She couldn’t wriggle much against the energy pressing against her. The Chronopolis was nowhere to be seen through the barrier. Zane concentrated and tried to stare through the wall, but her vision could not penetrate beyond the trapped light.
Circumnavigating the time temple she discovered overlapping temporal and exotic energy pressing in around her, buffeting her path, distorting her senses. She couldn't even time-port further back in time to see what had happened—time traps saw to that, reverting her course in loop after loop. There was no secret door, no hidden messages, no nothing.
The Astrals were gone.
“Why me?” Zane slumped in the energy field holding back her tears. What happened? Where have they gone? She was truly alone now. She took a deep breath composing herself. Without looking back, she opened a rippling white portal to the awaiting timestream and glided back to Earth . . .
. . . to land straight in the middle of another commotion. Her presence was barely registered as J.J. was freaking out over something.
“
What’s going on?” Zane asked, “I was only gone for a few minutes.”
The others turned to look at her with varying degrees of amusement on their faces, except J.J.
He shouted, “Yeah, well you’ve done something to me,” J.J. accused Zane. “My powers have changed! Look!” He held out his hands and rocks started to levitate. He himself rose a few feet off the ground. “See! I’m supposed to be able to turn dirt and rock into bedding or even edible food, not make them fly about!”
“Calm down, J.J.,” urged Aerl.
“Easy for you to say . . .” J.J. snapped
“I thought you were the tough guy?” Zane tried to humour him, remembering his fearless leadership of the E-Corps.
“Yeah, that was when I could turn bullets into marshmallows,” J.J. shot back. “I was famous for that!”
He didn't mention the fact no E-Corps scientist was sure of the nature of the marshmallows or whether they were edible or turn back into bullets one day. And no one had volunteered to eat one even after exhaustive testing. In fact the marshmallowed bullets had been dispatched to and exhibited in museums around the world. As Fusioneer, J.J. had proudly taken a photo with every single gooey bullet. But now he would never get to do so again.
Urana laughed at him, much to his annoyance. “J.J., you’ve had your powers for a few years, while we’ve had ours for a generation. You can adapt better than we would.”
“Yeah,” Azure caught on, flattering him more, “You’re taking it bravely; more so than when I was told I had powers, was a Starguard, and the daughter of an evil Celestian Knight, no less. We’ve all had to adapt and on the plus side, as the best flyer here, I can teach you how to fly.”
J.J. stopped squawking, taking a moment to reflect. “Fly? What, like Superman? You think so?” His unshaven face lit up at the thought.
“Of course,” Azure assured him.
“Best flyer?” Urana muttered, taking the bait in good heart.
“Yes, the best, Rain. I was a Sky Warrior and am the Goddess of the Darkening Blue. You and Sceptre are better in space, but in the atmosphere, it’s me.” Smugness hugged her face.
Urana and Aerl looked at each other, Aerl conceding with a shrug.
“Well,” Zane said, “Maybe the Lore stone changed me as well since I’m half-human. I was about ten years younger when the explosion in New York happened, now look at me. And my temporal powers seem to work.” She was still shocked from her time at the Chronopolis but she couldn't bear to tell them yet.
She continued. “The explosion changed Lynn and Starshina as well. In the twenty-third century, Lynn had no powers when I met her and Starshina had gone from being Angelfire to having winter powers. We called her Winterborne. We all adapted, J.J., you can too.” Another thought occurred to her, “Actually, matter manipulation was the power of the leader of the Superions, Mode, but he was Axalan. Anyway, so now you have gravity powers, cool!”
J.J. pulled a face, slowly reconciling himself to the idea of having new powers.
Gordell chuckled, “Well we can’t call you Fusioneer anymore.”
J.J. recoiled, as if he’d been kicked out of the neighbourhood superhero club, “Whaddya mean? Come on guys!”
“Your name has to match your power or personality,” Zane stated, as if she had a superhero rules manual to hand.
“Really?” J.J. thought, seemingly warning to the idea. He loved the name Fusioneer. It was futuristic and unique and he didn't want to ditch it. But he wasn't a Fusioneer anymore. “Hmm, okay, how about Graviteer? Gravitor?” he pondered.
Mute response.
“Airvader?”
There were more nods of dissent.
“How about Force as in the force of gravity?” Zane said, before J.J. could come up with more inane nom de guerre.
“Yeah,” came the chorus of consent.
“Fitting,” Gordell approved.
“Hmm, okay,” J.J. mulled it over. “Elegant. Force as in US Air Force, too. That’ll do. I suppose I’d better get practising,” he said, as more rocks began to float.
They laughed at his tricks as J.J. juggled rocks, “Look, no hands!” He continued with his show.
Azure shuffled over and sat by Zane. “So, how was home, Zane,” she asked, excited to hear about the Astrals, but Zane’s frown told another story.
She drew in a depressed sigh. “I tried going back to the Chronopolis, but there was no one there. It's sealed off and they’ve gone. I tried another time period, but of course, they think I’m dead, so they would have moved on without me.” Azure gave her a comforting hug.
Now it was J.J.’s turn to laugh at someone else's misfortune. “Can't say I feel sorry for you, Time Girl,” he laughed sarcastically, ending his display with six rocks piled neatly on top of each other. He sat back on his rock pleased with his efforts.
Urana blasted two of the rocks caking J.J.'s face in dust.
“Ow!” he cried.
Zane and Azure were looking daggers at him.
“What? Seriously, we sound like a comic book: changing powers, time travel, the dead turning up alive. It’s like a re-boot of the universe. I wonder who would play me in a movie,” J.J. mused.
“I can’t say we saw many of those back on Earth,” Aerl said, “Nor read many comic books, but I understand your meaning.”
There was a general consensus that they were in this together. Despite the shocks to their lives and arguments there seemed to be a congenial mood. Gordell decided it was time to steer them back to the business at hand.
“Alors, so what is the plan, Aerl, for the Fortress?” Gordell asked.
Everyone instantly centred upon Sceptre. He sucked in a long breath through his nose When he spoke, the others knew he had already thought out a plan.
“Well, first we get some rest then we need to train as a team, get Force and Zane up to speed, so to speak, then Zane will port us into the Fortress and we’ll get some answers . . .”
“Or kick butt!” Zane finished for him.
“That, too!” Aerl grudgingly admitted.
“By the way, how are you feeling, Rain?” asked Azure. “Past Earth didn’t seem to agree with you.”
Urana reacted in surprise as if hearing for the first time she had been ill at all. “Actually, I feel okay.” She smiled agreeably, head tilted and nodding. “Do you think the Lore stone affected us?”
“It shouldn’t have,” Aerl said. “Our manoeuvre suits would have protected us against any penetrating rays from the explosion.”
Urana made a noise of agreement. “But I am fine,” she reiterated.
“Good,” Aerl replied. “I'm happy for that.” The earlier arguments seemed to have been forgotten between them.
Conversation drifted away in a short silent spell.
“So I suppose it’s girls in one bedroom and guys in another,” J.J. broke the contemplative mood. “Too bad my old powers have gone, I could have made some decent bedding from the rocks.”
“Marshmallow beds?” Zane laughed, everyone joining in.
“Haha.” J.J. knew he had been one-upped.
“I believe I can help in that department though,” Gordell said.
Suddenly, the cave was filled with a silvery fist-sized mist with snaking tendrils and a pulsating center of light. They all felt faint whisper in their minds. The mist merged into Gordell's head. He shivered for a few seconds, almost convulsed, and then sneezed loudly, taking everyone by surprise.
“Oh, Jesus, no! What the freaking hell?” J.J. was already scrambling away over the sandy floor toward the wall. Everyone else tensed in shock.
“What was that?” Zane shouted out. “Gordell, are you okay?” She tried to hide her disgust.
Gordell shook his head, holding up his hand to calm everyone. “Don’t worry. It’s a Chryrian. Another one just decided to enter my mind. I’m still not used to it, like an allergy. Each confers me with another ability. This one can manipulate objects. I’ll be making the beds tonight, J.J.,” he smiled wit
h a wink.
J.J. just nodded silently back. But didn't move from his safe place.
“Whew!” Zane breathed again. “It’s weird. After knowing Aaron for so long, I never knew what a Chryrian looked like,” she laughed nervously, “Kinda cute and scary at the same time.”
Gordell laughed heartily, remembering is first experience with them. “Well imagine being personally invaded by them after centuries of thinking they were the enemy. I haven’t apologised enough to them for what I did to merged human Chryrians in the past. I’ve got five in my head now and quite a bit of power and luckily I haven’t gone insane as the first humans they contacted did. Mostly they look like that, those tendrils wrapping around nerves and brain stuff so we become integrated, but there are some Chryrians who have taken on ghostly humanoid forms. I call them Silverwraiths. They’re a bit hostile to non-Chryrians, but allies to us at least,” Gordell explained. “Mostly.”
“Ah, our secret weapon against the Surge then?” surmised Aerl.
“Against them all really, except Lore. Chryrians might not be able to read Starguard or Astral minds, but they can still cause havoc in trying or even just use their psychokinetic and other abilities. We have our own army in these hills.” Gordell looked pleased with himself.
“They . . . they wouldn’t try and enter me would they?” J.J. whispered, a tinge of apprehension creeping into his voice.
“No, I assure you they will only enter you voluntarily,” Gordell said. “Though with myself it was a matter of my survival.”
“Good,” J.J. said relieved. “Good. But now I have to go to the head again before I piss myself in fear!”
The Destinia Apocalypse (The Starguards - Of Humans, Heroes, and Demigods Book 4) Page 4
