by Daniel Huber
Quade shook his head. “I don’t seek to question the gods, Mimic. But if the gods themselves will not end the SanFear and instead give that power to mortals, why not give me the power to blink them out of existence? Why not give me the power to stop them with but a thought?”
"Why not give you a fiery sun to hurl at them and the power to raise the dead to do your bidding? Why not allow you the power of creation itself? The gods strive to achieve a balance. In making the SanFear they made no balance, they gave it no limits and thus it grew too powerful. In giving the Chosen such power that you speak, it would again disturb the balance. So the Gods at first made the Chosen small. And with each defeat they made them stronger. Eons would go by countless Chosen would fall but they grew in strength gradually."
"It is true Quade, what Mimic says. The gods set out to right the wrong they made. They looked upon all they created and found the need now to not create, but destroy."
"But even in destruction, there is creation. The creation of the Chosen."
"The Chosen few!" Quade's voice was angry, his eyes flashed. "Few Chosen amid millions, billions who have died!"
"Yes, but unto those Chosen few the Gods bestowed the power to end this strife. To wage this war and win, to bring balance to that which had been made in disproportion."
"It is an impossible task." Quade looked at all the destruction around him, the smoldering ruins which had only moments ago, been a living, breathing planet, living, breathing people and plants, animals and objects. Now the ground was grey and char, dust scattered everywhere in the wake of the blackness that now shadowed the sun. Quade rested his face on his knee and covered his head with his arms. "So much death and destruction…and what am I given to combat it?" He felt the tickle of something falling against his skin and was only vaguely aware that it was the falling of leaves.
"Quade you must have faith."
"Have faith?" He looked up indignantly, outstretched his arms. "Have faith in what? The gods who curse me to battle this unvanquishable foe? The gods who have given me nothing but grief?" He stopped short as he looked around, saw that he was surrounded by the familiar terrain of Bethel, the sun warm on his face, its dreamy quality surreal enough for him to realize he was still in the vision, but tangible enough for him to recognize the familiar quality of the air.
"The gods gave you life Quade, gave you this planet that you love, that young woman that you love…" Echo had shrunk in size again, flitted to perch on Quade's knee.
"What price do you put on their future, the price of your judgment of the gods? To what end?" Mimic had disappeared but he recognized her voice from behind his ear.
"Have faith in yourself Quade, again, you must trust us. Have faith in your Chosen. Their powers are mighty and a force to be reckoned with. Your powers alone are beyond what you now know."
"Powers? What powers? I've no particular power, I can't even harness magic. And every time I come within visual distance of this force, this thing you call the SanFear, my body collapses in on itself. Some power, to be able to see this entity I have no ability to defeat, can hardly bear to stand in its presence."
"Once together the Chosen will lighten that burden. This is why you must find them, find them all! Your sickness will be a thing of the past and once united the powers of the Chosen will ascend to inconceivable heights."
"How do you know this, if you've never seen success? How do you know of the Chosens' powers being so mighty when all they've done is fail?"
"How do we know? We do not question the gods as do you. And there have been times, times long since past…"
"So close, Quade. There was once a time when a group of Chosen came so close they almost succeeded."
"It was indeed a triumphant time for the Chosen."
"And in turn the darkest day for the SanFear."
"Those Chosen were made to pay mightily for their success."
"What did they do that brought them so near to victory?"
Echo's voice was pained. "'Twas a horrible thing Quade, what we must show you…"
"You hesitate to show me this, after all that I've seen? If my bearing witness to this horrible thing means that I might easier save my world them I'm prepared to see what there is to be seen. Show me!"
Quade had never seen eyes so intense as the eyes of the man who stood against the blazing light of the setting sun, on the top of a tall structure that could've been a castle or an abbey, the powdery white stone constructed in a beautiful design. But all that there might be glimpsed on this mountaintop land fell away from Quade's interest as he stared at the old man's gleaming eyes, and before he turned his head to see what it was the man was staring at, Quade already knew it would be the SanFear.
Two women stood at his side, one old and one much younger, not even into her twenties, by Quade's judgement. They sang a song that whispered on the wind, a melody which was sweet and mysterious in yet another language Quade did not understand. It was a haunting sound, and the man drew his hands together, breathing in a pattern that somehow matched the strange song the women sang.
Not very far behind the first SanFear came a second, and though ripe with curiosity, Quade dare not whisper a word lest the spell be broken by the mysteriously sung tune the women continued to create. As the SanFear drew closer, the man shouted a word and flung his hands forward. From his palms a showering of glittery dust filled the air, sparkling with the light of the setting sun, and the women's voices lowered to a quieter tone, barely a whisper on the still air. The man stood tall, his eyes still intense as he watched the SanFear come closer, and as it entered the space where the glimmering dust hung suspended on the air, he began to chant quietly, under his breath. An incredible thing happened then, something that, in all the visions Quade had been subjected to, he'd never seen happen. The SanFear changed in appearance, in the winking of a second, took human form. The man crossed his arms over his chest and continued to mutter his strange words, and the SanFear, now looking for all the world like a puzzled human, stood before him. The second SanFear came up quickly from behind, and the man who chanted did not flinch though Quade could tell that he watched it from the corner of his eye.
"This group of Chosen had magic like no other; powers so strong, their determination so deep and so profound, they were able to change the appearance of that which was not even real in their world." Echo's voice was a whisper in Quade's mind, as though she knew somehow that Quade was captivated and silenced by the awesome power these Chosen possessed.
"Can we learn to do this?" Quade's voice was barely audible, he was so humbled by the presence of these mighty people.
"The magic in your world works differently, Quade. In all worlds, magic has changing elements and qualities. What power they have is not the same as the power your Chosen have in your world."
"These Chosen used their magic to first change the appearance of one SanFear and then cloud the mind of the other, somehow making it believe that it's fellow brethren was merely a human."
As the second SanFear reached the group of Chosen, without a moment's pause it entered the false body of the human that the magic users had created, in an instant turning it to dust in a squealing snap of the air.
"If they could have gotten all four together in one place at the same time, their success may have been imminent."
"Alas, that was impossible, as the SanFear were in two different places. Two of them here, and two in another part of the galaxy."
"So originally, there were four."
"Yes Quade. For more millennia than you know, there were four. With the destruction of this one, there were three."
"And for that many millennia once again, the thee have remained."
The SanFear that remained hovered on the air, its shapeless, inky form seeming for a minute confused, and then it began to close in on itself, and Quade somehow could feel its anger, feel the intensity of its rage as it crumpled into a shadowy ball of blackness. All at once, it splashed forth in an explosion of hatred, filled the
sky with its darkness, then came back together in its ghostly form. If it could've bellowed, Quade knew that it would, if it could've effected these triumphant Chosen, Quade knew it would've shredded them piece by piece.
"It cannot affect the Chosen themselves Quade," It was as if Mimic knew what he was thinking, though her voice was gentle as she explained. "But they are clever and they are stealth and the rage they felt from the destruction of their brethren was beyond any rage you can possibly imagine.”
Images came then, in a barrage of destruction, vengeance. People screamed in languages he’d never before heard but somehow understood and every life taken, every Chosen fallen, took some of his own breath until once again he collapsed to his knees. The scene around him smoldered, piles of dust and ash swirling lightly on the air.
Quade turned his head and lowered his gaze, said a silent, wordless prayer for all those souls he'd seen die, to all those who had come before him and been defeated by this entity that now waged its war on his very world. He was cold, and his hands trembled, an aftereffect from all the emotions he'd felt, all the tragedy he'd seen. When he opened his eyes he knew his surrounds would have changed. He was standing on barren land but all around him was void. Slowly, the invisible cloak fell away and he saw well-known mountains come into view. Lush landscape burst forth as the mask peeled away, but he had already seen too much to be fazed by it, and he spoke through a tightly clenched jaw.
"If destroying the SanFear is the only way to save my world then the Keystone is destined to die," he said bitterly and paused before he spoke again. "Is there any way to separate the SanFear from the host without killing him?"
"If there is a way to do this, it is a thing we've not yet seen," said Echo.
"Is there any more? Any more that I should know about this thing?"
"'Tis one more thing Quade, of which you should know. "
"And that is of the Sentry."
"The Sentry?"
"Yes Quade," Echo and Mimic both hovered before him, watched him as they spoke.
"'Twas a reason the SanFear never saw the Chosen as a threat, and that is because no sooner were they acknowledged than did the SanFear match their wit." Mimic's words were slow, serious.
"After the destruction of their one brethren, the SanFear quickly devised a way to gather knowledge in a more efficient manner. It created a watcher of sorts, would break off a part of itself to act as a guard, to sneak into the bodies of those around it and take information from their minds."
"The Sentry cannot possess a body, Quade, only steal its thoughts. If anyone around the host that the SanFear inhabits has suspicions of wrongdoing from that person, the SanFear will know when the Sentry reads their mind."
"And invariably, cause the host to act accordingly."
"Like the SanFear, the Sentry cannot enter the Chosen. Except when they are sleeping."
"Sleep is a most vulnerable time for the Chosen, Quade. And as you are the only one who can see it, you will be the only one to protect your Chosen from being attacked while in dreamstate."
"While deep in the sleep of dreams, the Sentry can enter the thoughts of the Chosen. And manipulate those thoughts to such a way that they can destroy."
"I saw it," Quade said, his voice even and flat. "I saw it break away from the Keystone. When I was in his study, it separated from him, and the SanFear remained within. But the Sentry branched off and drifted out through the door. "
"Indeed Quade. That is undoubtedly what you saw."
"And why we have told you, speak this to no one but those who are Chosen. For danger will come to anyone who has suspicious thoughts."
"Those who have no knowledge of what goes on around them are protected by their innocence. For the Sentry will pass through their mind and leave them be so long as nothing in their thoughts is found that bears threat to the SanFear."
Quade was silent as he sorted through the chaos of memories still fresh within his mind.
"And now it is time to test your mettle, Quade." Mimic floated backwards behind Echo, circling her, as she stared at him directly. "Will you heed all that we have shown you? Or will your story be one that we show in the future to the next group of Chosen that we seek?"
"I cannot let this happen in my world!" Quade sighed hard, raked his hand through his hair. Echo drifted closer to him as she spoke.
"Now comes the time to seek the Avè. You have the riddle, Quade. Did it not tell you where to go?"
"It did." He rubbed his forehead as he spoke, feeling overwhelmed, exasperated. "At least, I think it did. Oh, by the gods, what if I fail?"
Without warning, Quade felt his scenery changing again. A lush hillside, the tall grass waving in the breeze. The warmth of sunshine played over patches of wild clover and tiny white blossoms as he was brought down into it, the soft light oddly familiar.
"What is this I'm seeing?" Quade could no longer see the emissaries as he was brought further into this new setting.
"We do not know Quade." Echo's voice was truly puzzled as it sounded inside his mind. "What you see now is not of our control. We have shown you all that we had planned."
"A vision all your own, Quade. This such thing has never before happened! Tell us what it is that you see?"
A little girl walked up the incline with her head bowed, and the length of her hair blew over her face. She reached up with an impatient hand in what was probably the hundredth time that day, to push back her long, frizzy locks. As she looked to the side, she took in the scope of the rolling hills, the lush plants and thick line of deep green trees which filled the garden, and she placed her foot carefully on the center of each stepping stone that led up to a garden. She walked gingerly at first, then grew bored of such precision and stomped between the carefully laid path.
"I don't know… a child. A little girl."
There was something in her movements, something familiar, but in a distant way. As she hiked her way up the stone-laid path, something caught her attention and she raised her eyes. They glittered like blue jewels, framed by long black lashes.
"Clea," he breathed as Quade realized who he was seeing. Clea, as a girl no more than seven. The perspective changed to what it was she was seeing and his curious stare fell on a circle of paint brushes and watercolor tins that sat upon the ground up ahead, cups half filled with murky liquid and then the small, slender curve of another little girl's form. As his sight followed the line of the girl's arm and shoulder, he could hear himself gasp when he saw the shock of white hair that covered the back of her head. Protective anger rose within him.
"What is this?" he demanded again. "What is this now that I'm being made to see?"
"Quade, we do no know unless you tell us!" Echo's voice was faint. "What is it that you see?"
"No," Quade refused to look, shut his eyes but the images continued in his mind. He clenched his teeth, rubbed his tightly shut eyes, trying in vain to wash away these new visions that somehow pained him so.
Clea's melodic, childish laughter lilted through his thoughts, and he saw her reaching out with a dripping paintbrush, its bristles heavy and thick with liquidy color. He heard Trina's shier, less untamed giggle as a flash of the fawn-like skin flickered in his thoughts, and a droplet of blue paint splashed across her cheek. As she laughed she tried to catch a glimpse of herself in the reflection of a tiny mirrored tile. Another pair of hands were recklessly swiping a paintbrush across her white hair, turning it into a kaleidoscope of colors, while Trina squealed in delight.
"Stop…"
"Quade, what is it?" Mimic's voice was fainter still and at that moment the vision faded to black. As soon as Quade opened his eyes again he found himself someplace else and the hollow sound of the emissaries' questioning voices had also fallen silent within his mind.
He was standing beneath the south balcony of Sigh Castle, and he reached to feel the wall to see if it was real. It was. He turned his head and realized that he stood before the crowd of people that had gathered within in the courtyard
and all around the castle grounds for the Twilight Bloom, though the tension in the air was vastly different than what he had experienced on the many nights like this over the course of his life. He could feel the presence of the SanFear, and he looked up to the balcony where the Keystone would be appearing at any moment. Gasping, he looked across the courtyard to where Trina stood, proud and content, and she smiled warmly at him as she caught his gaze.
"No…"
There was a sound above from the balcony and Quade felt tears of panic spring to his eyes as the Keystone stepped out to address the crowd. Visions from the events that he'd seen in past worlds flooded his mind as he looked at the teeming entity that encompassed the Keystone and a hysterical bellow began building in his chest. A fluttering stream of yellow glow-butterflies wove an erratic path in front of the balcony, their ethereal beauty momentarily obscuring the ugliness of the SanFear. Aazrio stood next to Aushlin and he looked down at Quade with raging suspicion in his stare.
"No…"
He looked all around him, at the content faces of the kingdom, the people that he stood before, the people that would surely die. They stared with respectful affection at the Keystone and the minute Aushlin's voice touched his ear, Quade heard himself scream.
"NO!"
All eyes might've been on Quade except that at that very moment, the SanFear erupted forth from the Keystone's body and hundreds of spawn poured from the balcony to the people below.
"NO!"
Aazrio was overcome. He raised his hands to protect himself, obviously casting out protective waves of magic that did nothing more than feed the spawn as they continued to spill forth from the Keystone. He tried with all his might to make his way toward Aushlin, to somehow fulfill his duty as guardian but it was no use. Then Quade heard Trina scream.
His own voice was stolen from his throat as he lunged toward her, as he pushed his way frantically through the din of hysterically screaming and running people. His eyes stung and his heart was aflame with terror as he reached to her, gathered her into his arms while she shrieked his name as the spawn covered her body, and then covered his. His own name was the last thing he heard her say as she disappeared into dust within his embrace, and the pain of having his life and breath sucked from him by the spawn was nothing compared to the aching of his soul as he saw Trina die, as she went from a warm living human to a scattering of dust and ash in his arms.
