by Shay Zana
Kitera’s quarters are separate from the Paragons’ quarters, on the opposite side of the hall. Upon entering, she is greeted by the soft wafting scents of vanilla and exotic fruits. With the mingle of warm and sweet filling her nose, Kitera breathes in deeply and exhales slowly, feeling the tension melting away from her limbs. Her quarters are starkly simple, save for the glowing cyan glyphs and familiar symbols engraved around her.
A cloak of nostalgia descends over her as she moves over to her bed and gently lies down within the embracing body-moulding fabric, like a cushion made of soft, warm gel, similar to the interior of an SSP. No more sleeping in claustrophobic life pods, humid jungles, or on the floor of the observatory through a shift to another dimension...
The gelatinous bed sinks inward, wrapping itself around her form like a protective cocoon. Kitera lies on her back with the gel hugging her sides, staring up at the many symmetrical symbols littered across Altair’s interior above her. They are all identical, yet they slope on different angles, vary in sizes, and some glow more luminously than others. They are almost like freckles for ikamanu, or birthmarks, or even finger prints.
As Kitera inhales the scents around her, her thoughts travel to one more question, one more matter that does not make sense. If she is in another dimension, one where the Demons rule and the Zodiacs are forbidden, or prevented from entering, then how did the Zodiacs send her encouraging vibes to awaken her from her unconscious slumber when Altair shifted across dimensions?
Thoughts begin to sweep away from her exhausted mind, the fretting about getting back to Kronos, her Paragons, and the Zodiacs beginning to rinse with the hold she has on the state of being awake. Before sleep overrides her senses, her fingers crawl up to encase her pendent.
Where am I?
Lying in the sand in this strangely cold desert, alone.
The ground shakes. I succumb to its crumbling motion, sand evolving to water. I am floating within a murky fog. The water clears and chills to an icy crystallization, expanding upward from deep underwater, purifying my senses.
The light of the vacant Sun is shining through the water in beams of soft light. Beckoned by its light, I swim to the surface slowly, every stroke pulling me into a warmth that seeps down from the surface. Breaking water, I take a deep breath of air and observe the new surroundings. It is home. Earth.
Beautiful earth wildlife surrounds me. Dolphins pirouette through the clear fluid, orbiting me and calling in their high pitched greetings. Whales lurk far deeper, responding in resonating welcomes, curling their large forms in tugs of might. They allow my touch, their skins silky smooth, rippling past my fingers.
I can see the shore, where a figure stands, peering out at the ocean. I let the water smoothly wash my body to the soft sand, feeling the sensation of soft clouds drifting me away. I look up at the face of the figure. Zivera. Smiling at me.
Her smile ebbs, and she turns and gestures for me to follow. I follow as fast as my bare feet will carry me. We travel through a forest, its flourishing green pigment giving a fresh mood.
As my sister stays unreadable to her intentions, I breathe in the scent of the forest, feel the bark of the trees, smile as the wind rushes through my hair, making it ripple and feel like water extending out from my scalp. My love for my homeworld is swelling. If only this were all real...
Suddenly, Ziva stops and points to a waterfall just ahead of us. With a bland understanding, I walk to it, trusting her. Walking into the lagoon, I feel its instant hit of icy coldness. With more tentative wading, I feel the water around me begin to warm against my skin, and as I gaze back momentarily to catch a glimpse of Ziva again for her reassurance, I can see an ocean expanse beyond. Ziva is gone, there is no shore, no lagoon, just an open, empty ocean where a waterfall drapes over from the heavens above.
I close my eyes, and without a moment more of hesitation, I swim into the waterfall....
I cannot comprehend the overpowering grasp of the tumbling ignition. The sensation of elevation is fresh in my mind, but the sensation of embracing the deep is tingling in the pit of my stomach.
I am in a cave. I can smell the damp air, feel the slimy rock, hear the pattering of dropping water. Glancing back through the falling water behind me, I search for Ziva, but she is a ghost once more. And so I turn around and continue walking through the dark and cold cave. The sounds of dripping water continue to echo as my bare feet pad along the wet, rocky ground. I utter a shiver in the depth of isolation.
The light of the outside world fades behind me, welcoming the enfolding of pitch darkness. I freeze, hearing my breath escape sharply, feeling panic roaring alive, lost within endless darkness, but there is no light to guide me out.
“Niwa norr dana. Niwa ka edori lu...”
“Ziva?” I call in response, but no more voices emerge.
Feeling for the walls, I grasp at the slimy rocks that encompass me and feel my way deeper into the cave. But the menacing sound of heavy footsteps stops me, my heart hammering within me.
Stillness ensues, lingering coldly. A chill summits my spine, hairs prickling, eyes darting in the dark.
A hand takes mine.
I am pulled through the cave swiftly, guided. As we rush, I cannot help but cringe and squint my eyes, fearing a collision with a rocky surface at any moment. I can feel the proximity and can only listen to the fear as it screams in my veins.
Eventually, a light appears, and our pace quickens. The light pierces my vision, disabling my sight as I emerge from the cave. The hand can no longer be felt, just a mist of fair air to mar the heat of light.
I scan narrowly, the beaming Sunlight agonising in my eyes. Looking skyward, light spears down onto me, but there is no source. No Sun. I must find the Sun.
The sound of grinding gears and crunching metal fill my ears, and as I hesitantly look over my shoulder, the sound grows louder and louder until it reaches a booming, haunting reverberation. I run, away or toward it, I do not know, but I just run.
The sounds rise louder as they pursue, like an army of metal machines. They are right at my back, reaching, until my saviour shines brightly in the sky. The maddening sounds cease. I stop abruptly and stare at the Sun, in awe at the beauty of it, nourishing the lands of earth.
A frigid and gloomy wind picks up, scattering leaves and rustling the foliage. I sense a deep, ancient, and malicious presence invade the earth, claw at the threads within reality, and swallow the essence of life around me, consuming it to the very endless pits of dark hate.
The Sun is gone, plucked up from existence by an unknown force.
The Demons have stolen the Sun. My Sun.
THIEVES OF THE SUN
I walk through the forest for hours, days, months, perhaps even years. Time has no meaning here, in this void of the mind. Every so often I hear the sound of grinding metal, but when I look, nothing is near me, the sounds cease, and all is still. I feel eyes constantly haunting me, lurking behind my every movement.
I come to a mountain. It is steep and rocky, covered in luscious green grass and littered with blue butterflies and other insects that resemble birds. These are not earthen creatures.
"Climb!" I hear a voice from the top of the powerful mountain, the remnants of the voice echoing through the deep valleys surrounding me. I look up to see a small figure in the distance. It appears to be standing on top of the mountain, perched like a god of the wild. Without hesitation, I begin to ascend the mountain.
Hours pass. I walk through tall, quivering grass, feeling its growth around me, past fluttering creatures, amongst feather-like seeds caught in the winds, and over large sharp rocky ledges until I finally reach the peak.
I stand face to face with her once more, her pale beauty just as radiant as I remember, ashen hair wispy, face porcelain. She points over the cliff of the mountain, and I follow her gesturing finger downward, my eyes revealing pools of white light covering the valley below. A straight drop downward.
“Go,” Ziva tells me.
I fall willingly.
“Nomak alira mokana.
Dara siilahk edori ek anduina, miolisu etara, ka lu namok tanil’ek.
Lu midna Nefnala naatil, lu Asta naatil, norr naatil.”
I am enveloped in the pools of light, submerged in it, floating in it, embracing it and absorbing it... or is it the light that is absorbing me?
I can hear many voices, whispering to me in a clamour of languages, but I cannot make out the words that are being spoken. The voices just repeat as I float in the blinding light, bathed in whispers, cleansed by the light.
I start to feel cold, limp, lifeless. My body becomes stiff, eyes heavy and my breathing growing shallow.
Slowly, the light begins to fade....
Blackness reigns, and I cannot breathe, like all the oxygen has been sucked away in an invisible vacuum. I am powerless as I try to search for air, my lungs straining and my heart racking within me, only to slow from lack of life force.
Suddenly, an immense pain crushes at my chest. I fall. Every heartbeat emanates an excruciating pain and makes me want to cry out in torment, but the pain is so severe and brutal that the effort of voicing this torment is beyond me.
I hit ground, a solid impact stinging dry nerves. I can breathe, though my inhalation is not refreshing as my sharp intake of air stings at my lungs. Everything is still dark, and a shuffle of movement results in another plummet. Darkness ricochets as I land harshly.
This time, I lay perfectly still.
The black turns from gray to white before evolving into reality. An illusion of reality. I find myself lying in grass, the wind rushing past me in soft murmurs. I sit up smoothly, preparing to feel the grasp of gravity again.
Yet not this time.
Peering around, I cannot recognise my location. A continuous flat plain of grass, no mountains in the distance, no buildings, no trees, not even a single cloud in the sky. A flat plain spreading out for as far as the eye can see.
I stand. Why am I having these visions? Why am I ensnared in this dream-world, this artificial reality? I know none of it is real, I can feel it, sense it, yet there is nothing I can do to release myself from it. Everything is so fast, details precise and crisp, but not lingering enough for the mind to fully study. Have I missed something? Should I be searching for something?
Off in the distance, a figure approaches through a cloaking dust. Soon, the figure stands before me. Her skin is a pale snow, her hair a pale blonde, and her eyes a pale silver, regarding me with a luminous glow. Her delicate garment drapes over her shoulders and falls around her feet in a bundle of satin fabric. Her slim figure is wrapped in many pieces of jewellery, all of which I recognise, especially her unique pendent.
“Ziva,” I whisper out.
Ziva nods and smiles warmly, her face even more beautiful and innocent. Gracefully, she points to my shoulder.
My eyes fall to my shoulder. My wound on Olympus. The wound is gone, not even a scar shows as evidence. The hardened shell of the elixir is also gone. I look back to Ziva, tears wetting the rims of my eyes at the sight of my beloved elder sister. She just smiles at me again, a soft, understanding curl of her lips, her silver eyes full of love and comfort.
“My Kiya,” Ziva speaks softly, her supple hand reaching for my cheek. “You are so beautiful, sister.”
My tears fall, hand crushing hers to my cheek. “My Ziva,” I mewl out, squeezing my eyes shut and feeling fluid rush down my cheeks. “I miss you. I miss you so much.”
I feel her fingers caress my skin tenderly, making no effort to free her hand from my eager grasp. “Do not cry for me.”
“Time was stolen from you, sister. I wish I could have saved you. I should have. I should have known, foreseen. I was not strong enough for you.” A smudged sob escapes my quivering lips, and I lean further into her cradling hand, so slender but firm. “I am so sorry, Ziva.”
“My death was inevitable. I journeyed well. I reached the Zodiacs, and now I dwell with them in peace. Do not cry for me.” Her hand diminishes from my cheek slowly. I feel a withdrawal as wind slices between us. “Cry for the fallen.”
I look up at her and through the glades of tears. A golden mist has gradually soaked into the sky behind her, gleaming moons showing along the horizon, joined above by a distant galaxy. The galaxy’s core is almost iridescent, coruscating a muddle of pale blue and gold. The entire landscape around us is untainted beauty.
The skies cloud over, leaving a dull and miserable blanket of retained water over us. Through the moist fog undulates the birth of a tornado, its core spinning erratically as it swoops in on its descent, narrowing as its funnel prepares to touch down. Its eerie gust batters us.
“You were always so disconnected from us, sister. So distant.” Her eyes narrow on me, soft brows pinning closely as she gauges me. “Why did you isolate yourself from our people so? Was it because your gods viewed you as unique? Did they favour you, enlighten you in secret and share their knowledge intimately? Such suspicions of the people made me envy you, sister. You were an enigma even to the Oracles. Even to me.”
I attempt to gauge her also, but her features are stark, almost limp. “I understood them no better than you, Ziva. I still do not. You had no need to envy me.”
My smooth tone does not seem to reach her. “Yet they chose you. You are special to them. The people are envious, they fear you, loathe you. They will not welcome you back to them. When you return, they will exile you.”
“No,” I shake my head in denial. “They would not. I am doing this for them, for humanity, for the Zodiacs. I obeyed the Oracles to embark on the mission.”
The wind shifts, her hair snaps in its wake, but her stare is locked in place. “Why did you never seek a mate, my Kiya?”
I falter. “I never desired a mate.”
“Every woman desires a mate. A man is what makes her feel like a woman, just as a woman is what makes him feel like a man. Many desired you. Share with me. I am your sister.”
She is not real, I remind myself. But why all the questions? Why the cold malice?
“It is because you do not love our people. You cannot love a Nefnala man if you do not love the Nefnala,” Ziva continues. “But the Paragons, your Rukto. They are raised by the Nefnala but they are not us. Do you love your Paragons?”
“I love our people,” I deflect.
She smiles, a hint of taunting enjoyment. “But you love them more. You protect them with your soul. Tell me, would you choose them over us?”
“Ziva, please stop. I love you, sister. I love the Nefnala. I love my Paragons. I will give my soul to protect you all.”
“Would you choose him over me?”
I halt my tongue at that.
For a moment, all falls in motion. The skies silence, the wind stiffens, the aesthetic tornado harmonises with the flow of the clouds, and the galaxy in the distance pauses in mid pulse.
Ziva lifts her chin. “If you were a true Cipher, your mission would be complete, and the fallen would be less. The Zodiacs are disappointed.”
I stare unbrokenly at her. “I am trying, sister. The Zodiacs are at war.”
“War defines the strong, and destroys the weak. Your gods are weak, and so are you.”
She points to my shoulder once again, not gracefully, but with dark mirth. I glance down, feeling it more than seeing it. My wound has reappeared, gaping, bubbling over with the toxic element that tears through my raw flesh like biting insects. I pant with panic as I paw at the widening fissure.
“Ziva!”
She gives a smile of black gore, just watching me as I move backward and panic.
“What are you!?”
This is not Ziva.
Her arms snap outward and clap inward to embrace my skull, hands clutching cruelly at my temples. I grasp her wrists in shock, writhing against her superior strength, but she only laughs as her fingers press inward, compressing slowly. I groan at the tightening pain, wrestling at her arms but only succeeding in amusing her.
“We must honour that mind within your skull, my Kiya.”
Ziva’s power has me wilting to my knees, cringing through her clamping brutality, a scream building in my chest before it explodes through us. A sharp scorch declares the presence of my blood as it trickles hotly from beneath her fingertips.
With waning speed, my sister leans in closer to me, blackness leaching from her tongue as it slides out from between her teeth. I can only scream inwardly as her tongue slithers up my cheek, licking up the crimson blood that yields down to gravity.
“You taste of flawed evolution.”
Satisfied, Ziva vaults me back to the ground, where she leaves me under a blanket of curdling pain. I barely register the incoming vibration of rotating winds, its bane howling at me, its weapon of wind whipping at my bare skin. The tornado takes me hostage.
“When your gods fall, we will rise. When your stars die, we will be born. When your code of life breaks, we will mend it. But when you die, nothing will ever rise again to take your place. First to die will be your star of origin.”
The Sun.
I hear their whispers in the stars. I sense their desire to free life from our smothering domination. I understand them. They wish to preserve. Their goal is noble. But their method is not.
But are we any different in our methods?
We destroy nature in order to survive and advance. They destroy nature in order to correct and rule it.
They wish for infinite peace, but must destroy to claim it.
I glimpse their goal, a correspondence of dimensions without sapience. Flourishing worlds, thriving species, natural disease and destruction to rotate life and keep it in balance. No interference. But without our interference, there is no protection.
Unique species fall extinct, never to roam again. Beautiful environments fall victims to unfortunate events, never to grow back. Life rises and falls, but memories are not kept.
