The vision ended, and Oonak found himself drifting amidst an ineffable radiance. When he tried to examine his surroundings, he could only discern the faint outlines of intricate fractal patterns within the blinding background, melding into one another, and the beauty and intricacy of the structures filled him with awe.
He looked around for his companions but saw no one, and when he tried to move, he realized that he was frozen in place.
In the far distance, an orb of blinding golden light rushed toward him, speaking to him in a voice that felt ancient.
“Manunakshan!”
A wave of surprise washed over Oonak. “How do you know my birth name? Please, call me Oonak. It is much easier for people to remember.”
“Remember!” The orb zoomed right up to his face and held steady there. From so near, Oonak noticed that it was utterly flawless, still radiating golden light.
“You are the Breath of Life, aren’t you?” Oonak said. “Where are the other two stones?”
The orb hummed to itself and backed away slightly. “Wanderer, haven’t I already told you? When you hold a Chintamani, you are only holding a piece of my fractal structure.”
“A piece of you?” Oonak said, a realization dawning on him. “So the stones aren’t merely related like we thought. They’re truly all parts of the same entity, aren’t they?”
The stone pulsed in brightness.
“But did we do it?” he said. “Is Razakh’s faction defeated?”
“Unable to say. I am only performing my function.”
Oonak furrowed his eyebrows. “And what is that?”
“You don’t remember? Last time you asked me, I told you. I preserve the integrity of the warp and the weft that makes up the fabric of this Universe. I prevent all manner of paradoxes and incongruities, and I maintain the balance between the two realms. It is my eternal function. None of this has changed. I am, as always, one.”
“What do you mean? I have never been here before.” Oonak glanced around the brilliance once again, seeing only unending fractal patterns dissolving into the haze. “Why can’t I move?”
“You are a strange bipedal organism, indeed! As I said last time, it is no easier to move spatially here than it is to move temporally back in spacetime. The rules are inverted here.”
“Of course,” Oonak whispered. “Timespace.”
“When else could you be? Such an amusing creature you are! You and your friends have done well. At a price. You have successfully brought the third piece of my fractal nature to where it was most needed, but this cycle draws to a close. Part of me shall return to the moon where one of my bodies is hidden, another shall return to a heap of rubble on a once fiery planet, and another part will return to your starship. You shall return to your body, as well, yet your work is not quite complete. A power vacuum has formed in the wake of your victory. Remain vigilant, Oonak. The galactic game of free will rolls onward.”
“What about the Empress and Torin? What happened to—”
But Oonak stopped, watching as the orb spun faster and faster, and a quietude washed over him. Long strands of golden light stretched out from the orb, encircling him, and his heart filled with a deep, resounding feeling of peace.
He tried to understand what was happening, but realized that it was beyond his understanding for the moment and simply observed his experience. Oonak got the strangest feeling that all was working out for the highest good of all, and as he watched the spinning orb, the radiant realm faded away.
Meanwhile, the Empress Monument remained immovable in the center of Mirage City, and within it a meeting was called to order around a familiar long table.
Jyana looked around, surveying the assemblage of royal guards, advisors, directors, and other city officials spaced around the table. Advisor Kathini sat to her left at the head of the table, looking somewhat impatient. Not that Jyana could blame her. A medical team had dropped back down to the physical world to see if they could do anything for the Empress and Torin, and they’d been waiting for hours to hear their findings.
At last, a man wearing a long cyan uniform, characteristic of the medical division, materialized in the room. Even before he spoke, his expression filled Jyana with dread.
“Well?” Kathini said. “What of the Empress? Was she irretrievable as we have feared?”
The man’s expression stiffened. “We’ve done everything we can to draw their energy bodies back to Tavisi, but it is of no use. We simply don’t know how to reverse the effects once the Dagger of Kirin is used.”
“So, they’re lost?” Kathini continued. “Do we have any idea of what might happen to them?”
The man pursed his lips. “We don’t know. I’m only the chief medical advisor. I’m not a priest. It is possible that they could make their way back to the inner planes of light, but there’s no way to know for sure.”
A lump of tension formed in Jyana’s throat. The thought of Torin being lost in deep space sent a wave of despair over her, like being caught in a rushing river she couldn’t escape from.
“I am sorry,” Kathini said and then surveyed the audience around her. “You all know what we must do.”
“We must find Torin,” Jyana said. “He doesn’t deserve to wander alone forever, and I’m afraid that’s what will happen.”
Kathini turned to her. “Jyana, I understand that this is difficult for you. It’s difficult for all of us, but their cords were severed tens of thousands of light-years from here. And who knows how far they could have drifted by now. The galaxy is vast, and search is impractical. Besides, even if we could find them, we don’t know how to reattach someone’s silver cord.”
Anger bubbled within Jyana’s heart. They didn’t even want to try, after everything Torin had done for them.
She turned to her left, her expression twisted in sadness. “Advisor Kathini, don’t you remember? Without Torin’s help, the scourge would have gained power over death itself. He sacrificed himself to keep us safe. He deserves a chance! He deserves some kind of search party, at least.”
Kathini shot a stern look back to her. “Jyana, now is not the time for debate. I am sorry for what happened to Torin, but they are both lost to us.”
Across the room, another advisor spoke up, a woman wearing a marigold robe with long brown hair. “And what of the ambrosia supply? I manage the automated systems that offload the supply from the freighters, but I must admit that Jyana was right. My team and I have surveyed the ocean floor. I hadn’t been down there since I was a girl. It’s definitely changed, and I read Jyana’s research. It’s solid.”
Another advisor spoke, a man wearing a teal uniform. “But we rely on ambrosia for our way of life! Do you want my teams to simply halt all construction? Our economy could collapse!”
Kathini nodded. “If we don’t do something now, the crabs will certainly go extinct. Because of the time dilation, we often forget the pace at which they grow and multiply, and the constant harvest of ambrosia has not allowed the crabs to recover. For the long-term interests of our city, we must regulate ambrosia harvesting to ensure future supply. Furthermore, thanks to Jyana’s careful research, we now understand that the crabs are vital to the health of the marine ecosystem. We condemned the scourge for destroying our planet’s surface, yet we have been ruining one of the last natural jewels Tavisi has left. However, our economy can be adjusted. New incentives can be put into place to encourage more efficient use of space, and better oversight can be put on ambrosia supply.”
“Yes!” The woman in marigold said. “I have worked with ambrosia all of my life, and I have seen an undercurrent of greed grow within the ranks over the years. That greed poisons us, but we can change. I was inspired by Jyana’s study, and I ran some numbers. It will be difficult, but we can change our policies and habits. We can survive this, but we’ll need to work together. After all, as a wise man once said, I believe there are enough resources for everyone’s need, but there certainly isn’t enough for everyone’s greed.”
/> Jyana felt a half-smile form on her face. After all this time, her research was being taken seriously, but it was still bittersweet.
Torin wasn’t there to enjoy it with her.
For the rest of the meeting, they discussed who the new Empress and Chief Ambrosia Director would be, as well as further ramifications of her research. But Jyana had trouble keeping her focus on it. All she could think about was Torin, stranded on Agnira.
What could he be doing there? If the dagger drains your vital energy, what happens if your cord is severed at the same time?
After the meeting, Jyana pulled Kathini aside. With just the two of them, Kathini might be able to understand.
“What is it?” Kathini asked, her eyes filling with concern. “I’m sorry that I don’t have much time to talk. They want to elect a new Empress soon, and they’ve asked me to be on the election committee. It’s Torin, isn’t it? Jyana, he’ll find his way to the inner planes, you have to realize that. The wheel of soul evolution doesn’t stop so easily. He will find his way.”
She shook her head. “You don’t know that. We only have one record of this ever happening outside of the Mirage. You have to admit that we simply don’t know enough. That’s why I have to go. I have to find him. I have to know if he still…”
Kathini’s expression fell. “If he still what?”
Jyana blinked a tear away. “Kathini, I know you want me to stay and help with the restructuring, but my heart won’t be in it. I have to go and find him. He wasn’t perfect, but I love him. Can’t you understand?”
Advisor Kathini pressed her eyes shut for a moment, her face tensing. “You love him. And how much do you love your people, Jyana? When are the needs of the people greater than the needs of one?”
Jyana winced. “You expect me to think about this with cool detachment? I know what I have to do.”
“No, I expect you to think about it practically! What are you going to do? Skip tens of thousands of light-years and search that burning world alone? Do you have any idea of how long that would take? How dangerous it would be?”
Tears welled up in Jyana’s eyes once more. “If that’s what it takes, then so be it. It’s the only way I’ll have peace.”
Jyana pictured the burning world as clearly as she could, and as she stretched out, she heard Kathini call out to her in protest. She refocused onto the obsidian tower, and when she let go, she lost all sense of orientation as the world around her blurred away.
…
Durazha felt as if a mountain were pressing down upon her, and forced her eyes open, seeing only darkness. She tried to move her head, but found her neck frozen in place.
How am I still alive? My energy body was split in two! Yet I seem to be in one piece.
“Gah!” she groaned, and pushed her claws out from her fingers and focused all her strength on moving her arm upward.
With great effort, she pushed through the rubble she was buried in. Pinpricks of light shined through tiny gaps in the obsidian rock, and she pushed the rubble aside, stone by stone, until she could at last push herself upright.
She found herself at the base of a massive heap of rubble, a strange mix of obsidian stone, black sand, and chunks of plating. No doubt this was the remnants of the obsidian tower she had sent her ship careening toward, when there had been a gravity pocket sitting just above it. Before the unthinkable occurred.
Durazha looked up to the sky, now splashed red and pink by the rising red sun of Agnira. No sign of the gravity pocket above the planet. No sign that it was ever there, at all.
She stood up and examined her carapace. Surprisingly, it had weathered the damage well, suffering only a few fractures here and there but otherwise still functional. It had probably saved her life. But that didn’t change anything. She had utterly failed.
“Razakh, you fool!” she screamed into the rubble. “I don’t know if you can hear me, but if your pathetic awareness still clings to this world, I hope you understand what you cost me, not to mention what you cost my entire faction!”
She felt as if her blood were bubbling in her veins.
“I don’t know how much power you were drawing from our Anuttam, but it is gone! Without its power, my entire faction is probably being blown to pieces as I speak!”
She stumbled around the rubble in rage.
“WHERE ARE YOU?” she wailed. “I want to find you and stab a real blade into your skull, a physical one, not the weak energetic implement you sliced me with. Where are you, peon?”
Durazha lumbered around, pulling chunks of rubble aside but finding no sign of her father.
“We are powerless now, because of you! We have nothing! Nothing! No ships, no faction!” Hopelessness washed over Durazha, and she covered her eyes and fell onto the rubble, letting it screech across her carapace. “We are finished, and I don’t know what to do. I only wanted to control our dominion! To conquer the weak. Is that so much to ask?”
A light rain began to fall, making a tinkling sound on her carapace. She looked up, squinting her eyes in disbelief at the clear water as it fell from the sky.
It hadn’t rained on Agnira in millennia.
She looked over to the smoldering mountains along the horizon. The lava pools had lost their orange glow, and the volcanic plumes behind them had thinned considerably.
A cool wind kicked up, and she shivered at the thought.
“How is this possible?” she whispered.
A small patch of grey clouds hung above, and as the rain fell a bit harder, a thought struck her.
“The Chintamani!” A grin flashed across her face. “Of course! The stone was on the ship when we crashed into the obsidian tower.” She glanced around, noticing that most of the sky was clear except for the patch of clouds above the rubble. “Could it be the cause of the rain? Could it affect the planet so quickly?” She looked back down to the field of dark rubble she was standing on. “It must be in this heap somewhere, and I will find it. It may need a heart to heal, but it only needs intention to harm. And when I find it, I shall use it to subdue this world, as it was millennia ago. Yes, I will find it. I will rebuild.”
She studied the mound of dark rubble she was standing on, thoughts racing through her mind as she moved aside one chunk of stone at a time.
“Yes, I shall find it. I shall find it. I shall.” As she repeated the words over and over, her digging grew frenzied. “I shall find it, father. Yes, I shall.”
And in her frenzied state, the fact that the heap of rubble was as large as a Vakragha cruiser was of only minor concern to her.
…
Far above a shimmering blue world within the fourth band of the western spiral arm, a battle was raging.
Still floating out in the middle of Avani’s southern ocean, Darshana, Vivek, Yantrik, and Officer Tak watched in awe as dozens of shimmering points of light flew in formation in the darkening sky above them.
“Are those Confederation ships?” Vivek said.
“My, my,” Yantrik said, “looks like Asha and Zahn might have been able to help us, after all. And check out the moon! The dark patch that was approaching it is shrinking.”
They all turned, noticing that the space near the moon that had been void of stars just a few minutes before was slowly shrinking, like a gap in space closing up again.
“Astounding,” Darshana said.
“Why are they flickering red?” Vivek asked, pointing upward.
Darshana turned and noticed a group of the lights swarm around some unseen enemy. A few green beams shot out, but the lights avoided them. All at once, the points of light flickered in red, and then swept through the area before moving on to another patch of the sky.
“Someone is destroying the Vakragha ships,” she said.
Officer Tak looked back to them, concern filling his eyes. “It’s possible that the radiation from their weapons is harmful. I recommend we head back to Ashraya. We can’t help Nirupak anymore. The subterranean gate is destroyed.”
“Hold
on,” Yantrik said, raising his hand. “That’s a classic Confederation starburst pattern. And see where the dark fissure once was?” He pointed back up to the full moon, a smile spreading across his face. “It’s gone. My friends, the Confederation fights for us!”
“What about the gravity distortion?” Vivek asked. “What if the fissure already tweaked the moon into a dangerous orbit?”
“Possible but unlikely, my dear,” Darshana said. “Although significant, the fissure’s mass was still small compared to our moon. I’m sure the observatory is already measuring the changes, but now that the fissure is dissolved, they should be minor.”
The officer twisted his face in confusion. “What do you mean? Who fights for us?”
Darshana turned to Yantrik. “Are you sure they’re friendly?”
“Definitely Confederation. I’d recognize that starburst configuration anywhere.”
“Then we need to get back to Ashraya City. I think the time has come to tell the public what happened to me. I want the world to know that the Confederation saved us. They must know the truth, that they don’t need to be afraid.”
She looked up to Tak, who only blinked in stunned silence.
“Tak, let’s go home.”
He only nodded and turned, whipping the airboat back toward Ashraya to the north.
And while Darshana had no way of knowing, as they sped back to the islands the first rockturtle of the season reached the surface of Ashraya’s beach, its tiny fin protruding from the silver sand before crawling up to the surface.
More turtles dug themselves out of the sand.
Popping up one by one, their silvery shells blended in with the sand as they scampered toward the ocean. Completely unaware of the tragedy that almost befell them, they raced toward the crashing blue waves of the bay, instinctively knowing that it was their home.
Although they were mere hatchlings, most reached the water within minutes, embracing the joy of the ocean. Not all would survive the dangers of the sea, but those that reached adulthood would remember this place, returning to that same beach years later, stronger and wiser. Thus was the way of growth.
The Mirage on the Brink of Oblivion (The Epic of Aravinda Book 3) Page 26
