Xen'tarza: Book Two of the Twelve Dimensions

by Paul Centeno

  “I wonder how far this goes,” Yarasuro said.

  “It leads to the core,” the ghensoth said. “From what I heard, it’ll be at least another decade before Qyon’tog is depleted of minerals.”

  “Interesting,” Shirakaya said. “Seems like you know a thing or two about this place.”

  “Only because this was my habitat before venturing out to hijack Eternimus. Six cycles on this rock. Six cycles after Zieksar fell ruin to our own ecological suicide.”

  “What exactly happened to your planet?” the mutant asked.

  Xorvaj gritted his teeth, snorting at the question. “We were at war with each other. Clans fought one another over world domination. It eventually escalated to biological warfare. Then a fanatical military faction unleashed a genetically mutating weapon that poisoned our atmosphere, vaporizing Zieksar’s ecosystem. Our survival depended on an exodus into the stars.”

  “Moons of Aarda,” Shirakaya replied. “They certainly never bothered to explain that at the university.”

  “It is a terrible fate,” Yarasuro said.

  The ghensoth nodded.

  Shirakaya took a deep breath. “I can almost understand why you worked so hard to create Urvantak.”

  “Uniting is our salvation.”

  “No,” the mutant said defiantly. “Your peoples’ redemption lies in an end to extreme savagery.”

  Xorvaj clomped over to him, baring his teeth and claws.

  “My point exactly.”

  These words further incensed Xorvaj who gripped the mutant’s throat. Alarmed, the freelancer unsheathed her enchanted ghanis blade. She didn’t have to speak. Her sword grazed his thick, razor-sharp beak. Feeling its sharpness, he released Yarasuro and backed away as the elevator slowed down and stopped.

  “You’re right, mutant,” Xorvaj said. “It’s in our blood to obliterate every obstacle in our path. That is why I planned and still intend to unite all strayed factions. Together, my brethren and I will battle against extinction. It is only a matter of time before we are triumphant.”

  “But can’t you find a way to move on?” Shirakaya asked. “I mean, what if the factions do not unite?”

  “Then we’ll crumble into total annihilation like all life on Zieksar,” he said, moving off the creaking platform.

  Shirakaya and Yarasuro glanced awkwardly at each other and then followed Xorvaj. The trio walked through another jagged, cavernous passage. Few miners walked by, most of them chiseling the serrated walls in search of gemstones. Meanwhile, a great many scavengers milled about. It was strange to Shirakaya that there were a lot more black-market traders than miners within the mining sector. Pressing on, they crossed an elongated bridge, their gaze avoiding the five-thousand-meter-deep pit beneath them.

  When the bridge was behind them, they entered a sector revealing dozens of cavities. The majority of miners worked inside every hole, hacking at jeweled walls. Magically-lit spheres that hovered around the region illuminated each passage. Walking by, a potent odor of hyirum overwhelmed the freelancer.

  “Please tell me we’re almost there,” she said.

  Xorvaj ignored her, leading his companions past the mining sector. Beyond the multitude of cavities lay a vacant facility nestled into the jagged granite. Since there were no lights inside the facility, Shirakaya assumed it was deserted. Activating built-in lights on their armor, the trio approached the vacant structure.

  “This place seems abandoned,” Yarasuro said, scanning the dark region. “How come we’re here?”

  “You took the words right out of my mouth,” Shirakaya said.

  The ghensoth clicked his KLD, examining his surroundings. “This is Sector V-57X. Now we wait for your buyer.”

  “Right,” she said. “3400 hours. Just a few minutes.”

  Leaning against a wall, Shirakaya and Xorvaj remained quiet. In the meantime, Yarasuro paced back and forth. To the freelancer, the mutant appeared uncomfortable. By chance, he saw nine silhouettes in an alley and froze, gazing at them. Because of his heightened senses, Yarasuro was able to see despite it being pitch-black. He quickly realized one of the figures was a humyn. Hands and ankles cuffed in manacles, she couldn’t do much except cry.

  “Shira,” the mutant whispered. “Slave trade.” As she attempted to look, he continued, “you shoot from a distance while Xorvaj and I attack up-close from the sides, catching them off guard.”

  Grumbling at the mutant, Xorvaj responded, “I will not assist.”

  “We’re not in the military anymore, Yaro,” the freelancer said. “I’m not taking the law into my hands anymore. Let them be.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “I don’t want anything jeopardizing our deal with the sca’vezi. For all you know, we can start a fight and scare him off. I want to sell this amulet and get the currency we need. No more policing. Understood?”

  Eyes downcast, Yarasuro shook his head. “A moment ago, you said we’re not in the military anymore. That means you’re not my captain.”

  “Don’t you dare.”

  The shadowy figures drew closer. As they moved into the light, four of them revealed themselves to be xentari merchants—all of whom passed by the mercenaries without so much as a glance. The remaining five, on the contrary, gazed upon Shirakaya’s group while advancing. One of them was a tyiri attired in a black suit. Chain in hand, he yanked his new bondservant, accompanied by three ghensoth bodyguards.

  Moments later, the sca’vezi obsessed with the xyimorph amulet emerged. “Reveal!” he said hoarsely. “Show me amulet! Show me! Show me!”

  Despite the freelancer having been startled by seeing a humyn slave, she clicked her KLD several times, porting the amulet. Not able to bear the sight of the slave, Yarasuro turned away. Xorvaj watched the mutant knight, making sure he wouldn’t jeopardize the trade. Upon seeing the amulet in Shirakaya’s hand, the sca’vezi leapt toward it.

  “Mine! Mine! Mine!”

  Shirakaya pulled it away. “Yes...for a price. I believe you heard my original offer when speaking with O’dekras: Half a million.”

  “Three hundred thousand. Mine!”

  “I didn’t come this far to haggle,” Shirakaya said defiantly. “For that, I could’ve sold it on Pravura.”

  The sca’vezi cawed. “Fine! I must have it!” He anxiously clicked his KLD, using ZiFi to create a temporary link to the freelancer’s device. Once the link was established, he immediately sent the funds. “Mine! Mine! Mine!”

  Acknowledging the transfer, Shirakaya tossed the amulet over to him. The sca’vezi fretfully scrambled to catch his precious talisman. Porting a pistol, Shirakaya shot at the passing bondservant’s manacles, freeing her. The ghensoths raised their guns at the freelancer, but not before she unsheathed her ghanis blade and slit the tyiri along his mottled neck.

  “Stand down, brethren!” Xorvaj bellowed, his voice echoing in the dark tunnel. He had no choice but to raise his own weapon. “Do not force me to kill you. Abandon this dead alien whose species serves no purpose to our superior needs. Serve yourselves and await the resurrection of Urvantak.”

  Yarasuro stood silent, slack-jawed. Quicker than a bullet ricocheting, it seemed to him, the freelancer had taken matters into her own hands by killing the creature that he had so desperately wanted to eliminate. The trio stared into the barrels of thermal guns capable of liquefying them with a single ray, not making a move until the behemoth guards lowered their own weapons and withdrew, leaving the shivering, sobbing slave.

  “Ho-how can I serve you?”

  “You’re free,” Shirakaya said. Porting an outfit from her original wardrobe on Aarda, she gave it to the woman clad in rags. “Put that on and clean yourself up. I’ll do nothing more. Good luck.”

  “Th-thank you!”

  The freelancer walked away, returning to the lively mining sector. This time she led the way, Xorvaj and Yarasuro following her. The ghensoth grimaced at Shirakaya but was grateful to be alive. As for the mutant, he had no idea why she’d de
cided to prevent the tyiri from leaving with a slave; yet he couldn’t help but smile.

  “You know,” Yarasuro began, “back in the military, our orders would’ve been to disarm and arrest the tyiri instead of killing him. But, somehow, seeing him dead doesn’t bother me. As a matter of fact, I found your actions to be more honorable than allowing slave trade.”

  “Don’t think I’m self-righteous, Yaro. I made a move only because I knew that if I didn’t, I would’ve lost your—”

  Vokken unexpectedly appeared on the freelancer’s KLD. “My apologies for interrupting such an emotional moment, but Myris needs to be picked up immediately. Benetarians attempted to kidnap her at Pravura’s festival.”

  “Goodness. Is she all right?”

  “Yes...thanks to our glorious queen. She’s taking refuge at the Sky Launch nearest Iyonji Palace until you arrive.”

  “We’re on our way.”

  Alternate Realities

  The Twelve Dimensions are not to be trifled with. Each cosmic reality remains untethered for reasons deemed incomprehensible to the finite mind. To undo the Order of nature that I have instilled is to tamper with Chaos—the unpredictable prospect of oblivion. If it be of a spiritual, corporal, or magical realm, such tampering with transdimensional phenomena may very well cause the universe to collapse. Such fatal obscurities are by no means for the faint of heart. Children of the stars, heed my warning and seek not the perverse tinkering of pseudo-science, but, rather, the acceptance of nature’s innate properties.

  Alterations 19:3

  Chapter Six

  Dimensional Collision

  I

  Supersede

  In a dark quadrant where stars had begun to vanish, Ashkaratoth appeared. Expanding his four wings, he flew through space and approached a red chasm that was none other than the Drift Void. Drawing closer, he no longer needed to fly—the deadly, magical current surrounding it pulled him until he drifted directly before it.

  “You have summoned me?”

  The void breathed with fury, nearby asteroids breaking apart. Despite such paranormal phenomena at hand, Ashkaratoth remained unshaken.

  “Once again, you have failed to remain as a myth. I have forbidden you from making your presence known in Ensar and yet you seem to have your own motives, using my swarm to attack civilization.”

  “I must eliminate the sorceress who knows of our existence.”

  “You must? What you must do is be silent! You have grown far too arrogant, and your overconfidence has caused yet another failed attempt to slay her. Because of your impatience, she not only lives but has gained the faith of another Ruzurai.”

  Ashkaratoth sneered. “The legendary Ruzuari do not intimidate me. I almost killed—”

  “Hear me one final time, whelp: You will not be forgiven again. Remain in the shadows as we have done for eons. It is only a matter of time before my prison shatters. Await my return or suffer my wrath.”

  “Is that so?”

  A terrifying roar echoed throughout the cosmos, an unnatural force of power surging from the void. Every asteroid in the vicinity crumbled apart. Ashkaratoth merely hissed at the chasm, extending his claws. Tremendous arcane power from all the protostars he had recently consumed abruptly projected from his scaly palms, flowing directly into the red chasm.

  “Traitorous whelp! You dare defy your Lord?”

  “That prison has made you weak. I have become infinitely more powerful than you. There is even dubiety among us on whether you truly have the necessary strength to break free. Remain in pandemonium until the prison drains whatever is left of your feeble soul.”

  Koth’tura let out another vicious roar from within the Drift Void.

  “The eternal swarm shall hide no longer. Now is the time to make myself known. Soon the universe will know me as the true Lord of Chaos!”

  II

  Revelation

  Back on planet Pravura, Myris entered an atmospheric station with the necromancer. She passed the time by petting Xeza, waiting for her comrades. Eladoris, on the other hand, paced back and forth until Marauder approached. Once the interstellar craft docked at the capital’s Sky Launch, the trio boarded it. They waited in the hatch while the decontamination spray activated. When it finished, Shirakaya greeted them.

  “Welcome back, Myris. Vokken told us everything. I can’t believe it. Why didn’t you tell—”

  “I don’t wanna talk about my past.”

  “Oh. Um…okay. Are you all right?”

  “Not really. I just need rest. But don’t worry, fearless leader. After a few hours, I’ll be back to normal.”

  Eladoris passed the freelancer without making eye contact.

  “Glad you’re back on the team too,” Shirakaya mumbled sarcastically. She was activating the hatch’s seal when her KLD vibrated. Acknowledging her brother’s abrupt transmission, she answered the call. “Not sure this is a good time, Khal. Dojin’s in the infirmary recovering after a terrible beating, and Myris barely escaped a kidnapping.”

  “I heard about Dojin. I’m not surprised. As for Myris, that’s extremely disturbing. Is she going to be okay?”

  “I think so,” the freelancer said, walking toward an X-Phaser. “Anyway, what’s up?”

  Khal’jan hesitated. “When the others are feeling up to it, gather them in the conference room.”

  “Why? Did you translate something?”

  “Yes and no,” he said. “Just get everyone here as soon as possible. If they’re truly a part of your team, they need to hear what I have to say.”

  “Let’s give them a few hours to recuperate,” she replied, ending the link at his nod.

  In due time, Shirakaya made an announcement via the intercom for Shadow Mercs to gather together. Without wasting any time, they convened in the conference room. Though he was severely bruised, Dojin stood among them. Rah’tera acknowledged the renegade’s injuries, glancing at him with amusement.

  “Trying to compete with me?”

  “No burns,” the renegade responded. “Just a shit ton of pain. Ain’t no ghensoth punch me so hard. Took a day for the Sci-Doc to fix my broken ribs. Say, any reason why the fuck we’re standing here like losers instead of sleeping?”

  Before the sandstalker could respond, Shirakaya walked in.

  “Thanks for coming, everyone,” she said, taking a seat. “My brother has an important update for us. Care to share it, Khal?”

  The archeologist delicately placed Medeix Et Victum on the conference table. “Alternate realities. Infinite portals to other dimensions. Magic. Science. The unknown. Tell me, have any of you ever heard of the Spectral Pulse?”

  “Enlighten us,” Rah’tera said.

  “It is a fascinating myth few know about,” Khal’jan said. “In truth, the Ruzurai deemed it blasphemy. From what I learned at the university, primordial gods and goddesses—divine lords of science and magic—tampered with space and time eons ago. Most of their names have been lost to us, but one remains…Xen’tarza. Such a being, according to Medeix Et Victum, is said to have altered the quintessential cosmos we have come to know as Ensar.”

  “The dissolution of the multiverse?” Shirakaya said in a skeptical tone.

  “On the contrary, it’s formation. Order and Chaos are only the beginning. Regardless, it is said that the Spectral Pulse is a transdimensional passage into the transmundane elements beyond space and time—an arcane realm whose every particle is nothing short of pure magic. If you can somehow tap into its wellspring for even a second, I’ve no doubt you’ll regain your power.”

  “You’ve stirred my curiosity,” Eladoris said. “Go on.”

  Dojin groaned, rubbing his head. “This shit’s too deep for me. I just wanna sleep or fuck shit up. Plain and simple.”

  “There’s no going on,” Shirakaya said. “Has that book driven you mad, Khal?”

  “I’m afraid it’s possible,” he said with a soft chuckle. “After spending endless hours and days attempting to research this damn
compendium, I’ve come to accept the grim reality that mere simpletons and dreamers like me will never comprehend its cryptic secrets. I fear such conjecture on the validity of the Spectral Pulse and its link to the divine is beyond my expertise and that of everyone I know.” From the corner of his eye, he could see his sister’s frown. “There is, however, someone who may be able to assist us.”

  “Please tell us before your sister kills you,” Yarasuro said.

  “The one who discovered this book in the first place,” Khal’jan replied. “Wyneim Del Vayso…an extraordinary mind beyond our time.”

  “Ingenious,” the freelancer said. “Problem is, he’s supposed to be stark-raving mad. Even if he isn’t, how in all the heavens are we supposed to find him? It would take a miracle to locate him.”

  “Maybe not a miracle, but rather, an oracle,” Khal’jan said, sliding the compendium across the table, over to Myris. “Care to touch it?”

  The young oracle shrugged. “You’re a clever bloke. I suppose this shouldn’t hurt.”

  Xeza urped, cheering her on. Myris smiled at the sìsô as she reached for the book. She then tossed a few runes in the air. Each rune remained suspended as she delicately touched the compendium’s trim. Lifting it with both hands, she let the residue of fingerprints flow into her mind. Eyes closed, she furrowed her brow and saw an imprint of Khal’jan at an excavation site.

  Myris flinched. Within mere seconds, she witnessed the haggard archeologist morph into Owendar. Even the environment changed. The deceased wizard sat in a library, reading Medeix Et Victum. In time, he, too, altered. Another old man sat in darkness. Books around him aged and withered away into nothingness. Wooden shelves rotted, replaced with metal walls.

  Unable to see his facial features, Myris advanced in her hovering chair. “I see you,” she muttered, approaching the silhouette. “Why do you hide?” Just before Myris could step into the light, however, the shadowy figure dissolved. “Wait!” she yelled out, extending an arm. “Don’t run. You’ve nothing to fear.”