by Anna Carven
How much untapped potential did she possess?
With a sigh, he closed his eyes and opened his mind, releasing all of his ka’qui at once. He allowed it to roll outwards in a wave, millions of tendrils of silent energy drifting through the walls and out to the desert beyond.
“Ah, I felt that,” one of the warriors murmured in the background. “Gives me the creeps every time.”
Ashrael ignored him, searching for the stars, the rocks, the sand, the sky. He allowed his own energy to dissipate. His ka’qui transcended physical barriers, merging with Earth’s underlying energy. Even in this dry, arid landscape, the desert was teeming with life.
Ashrael became one with his surroundings. His breathing slowed and steadied, and his mind became clear. He ceased to have a beginning and an end. Hundreds of souls in the background faded into nothingness.
He was nothing.
There was nothing, except her.
How did you know how to do that, young one? The old one, Elgon, reached out to him, shattering his consciousness. Elgon’s aura radiated caution. Although he wasn’t powerful, he was skilled in his use of the ka’qui. Perhaps he was from the Lost Tribes. There were those outside the Empire who knew how to wield the power of the Universe with great skill, their knowledge passed down through generations.
Do what, old man?
There was a pause. Never mind. Are you ready to do this, assassin?
It’s futile, old man. There was bitterness in Ashrael’s tone, but he opened his mind to the elder anyway, allowing him to infiltrate his ka’qui channels.
Because a small part of him dared to hope.
Nothing that is done in the pursuit of freedom is futile, child, although you might that find this part of the process will cause you great pain, and perhaps even death.
Do what you must, old man. I have no fear. He was no stranger to death, so why should he fear its embrace? He and death had walked hand-in-hand his entire life. He was death’s servant, a true child of Kaiin.
An unexpected bolt of intense pain shot through him, gripping his skull as psychic power ripped through his mind. He gasped as he felt her touch underneath the old man’s. Her wild power was tempered now, guided by the elder who used his skill to target it, sending it into Ashrael’s ka’qui channels.
They were working together. She provided the power, and the elder wielded the skill. It was an unlikely partnership, but it was crudely effective.
As Elgon sent a ripple of ka’qui deeper into Ashrael’s mind, the pain became worse, causing him to clench his teeth. This was the mindbond at work. It had sensed the threat, and now it was reacting.
You will be loyal to the Empire. The command echoed through his head, and for a moment it was all he knew.
Ashrael tried to keep his expression blank as he ground his teeth. His fangs broke through the tender skin of his lower lip, drawing bitter blood. He clenched his teeth, not wanting to show his pain in front of these warriors.
The pain grew in intensity, stabbing behind his eyes, streaking down his neck and back, engulfing his arms and legs,until every nerve ending was on fire.
The easiest way to escape this agony would be to put his barriers up and kick the intruders out of his mind, but he vowed to try and fight the temptation for as long as he could, because a deep part of him desperately wanted to be free of the mindbond.
It was all he’d ever known until he’d set foot on this cursed planet, until some absurd twist of fate had given him a taste of something he’d never dared hope for.
Freedom.
You are in pain, Elgon said. Shall we stop?
No. He bit his lip again, trying to use the self-inflicted pain as a focal point. Do whatever it takes, old man. You are not yet beginning to touch the limits of my endurance. I am committed now, so do not waste my time.
He was no stranger to pain, either. Why should he be afraid?
Ashrael gasped as power shot through his mind. Exquisite agony claimed every fiber of his being. His instincts screamed at him to put up his barriers, but he gritted his teeth and resisted.
The Human’s power was behind this, and it was breathtaking. It was always said that females with the talent, were infinitely more powerful than males.
Perhaps it was a good thing that their kind was so damn rare.
Barely aware of his surroundings, he rose to his feet, only to be pushed down by several strong hands.
“Don’t move, assassin.” He was forced to the floor as one of the warriors gripped his neck and pushed his knee into his back. Ashrael barely noticed. The pain was too much.
The elder channelled more power into him. Something inside his mind was being torn apart, and it was absolute torture. A full-throated cry escaped from Ashrael’s throat.
“Hey, maybe he’s not so silent after all.”
Little by little, the elder started to undo the damage that had been wrought upon his psyche. He was like a skilled weaver unpicking a complex tapestry, pulling out each thread one by one. And each ripped-out thread drew a terrible scream from Ashrael, because the pain was akin to fingernails being torn out.
He couldn’t hold on any longer. Instinctively, he began to assemble his mental shields, but the pain had weakened him and he wasn’t able to slam them shut like he usually would.
“Hold on, katach. This is for your own good.” The warrior with his hand on his neck spoke into his ear, his voice devoid of sympathy. There was no mercy or compassion here, and Ashrael hadn’t expected anything less.
Pain surged through his body again and he howled, no longer caring that they would hear him.
The image of his Mistress entered his mind. His second sight revealed her to be a mysterious, hooded figure who never showed her face. An aura of dark power radiated from her. She was mostly cruel, but on rare occasions, she could be kind.
You will obey me without question. Her words rang through his mind as his mindbond continued to be torn apart.
He had no love for her, and any loyalty towards her was simply enforced. The thought of killing her entered his mind, and it amplified his agony tenfold.
His cheek was pressed against the cold floor, and his right arm was restrained behind his back. Usually he would fight, but the pain was becoming unbearable.
As the elder and the Human tore at his soul, darkness descended over his consciousness.
His mind went blank.
His memories ceased to exist.
He didn’t know his name anymore.
He was falling, and if death came and took him now, it would be a small mercy. He would go willingly into the Goddess’ sweet embrace.
The only thing anchoring him to this world was a soft, sweet sensation at the back of his mind. Her. Somehow, her presence endured through the endless storm of his agony.
Ashrael, she pleaded, but he didn’t respond, because didn’t know who that was anymore, and the thought of death was seducing him.
So he allowed himself to drift away into the slipstream of life, death, and infinity, where there was no beginning and no end.
Chapter Eleven
“He’s dying,” Noa gasped. “You have to stop it.” She tried to put up her mental barriers, drawing on the techniques the old man had taught her, but she was in too deep.
She could feel his life slipping away.
We’re bonded now. Ashrael’s words echoed in her mind, and she finally understood.
Somehow, they’d formed a psychic link, their consciousnesses tied together by something inexplicable.
The strange tingling sensation at the back of her mind wasn’t a figment of her imagination. It was him.
And now he was drifting away.
Follow him. The pull was strong. It called to the darkness in her, the part of her that was foolish enough to be tempted by oblivion.
She opened her eyes. Elgon was in a trancelike state, his wizened brow furrowed in concentration. In one hand he held a polished stone, running his thumb over its deep emerald surface. She glanced at
the holo and saw Ashrael pinned to the floor, Rykal and one of the other warriors holding him down. He howled and writhed, his exquisite features twisted in agony.
A fragment of his pain resonated through their bond, almost sending her to her knees.
Ashrael, she called to him, but he didn’t respond.
Elgon continued to draw on her power, channeling it towards Ashrael, manipulating it in a way that was beyond her comprehension. The more power Elgon released, the more distant Ashrael started to feel, until their bond was just a fine thread, stretched to its limits.
It scared her. Ashrael’s painful cries filtered through the holo, becoming weaker as Elgon continued to do his thing.
Why was she afraid of losing the bond? Ashrael was the bad guy, a beautiful villain in a world of monsters. His first action upon encountering her had been to try and take over her mind and force her to do his bidding.
Bastard.
She should be eager to get rid of the bond, but the way his insolence had dissolved into tortured screams had bothered her greatly. She remembered all too well what it felt like to be entirely at the mercy of others as they tore into her mind.
“Elgon, enough,” she pleaded. The elder’s eyes had taken on a glazed look; he seemed far away. Could he even hear her?
“What’s wrong, Noa?” Zyara was beside her. The medic radiated concern.
“I think we’re doing some serious damage. Tell him to stop.”
“Are you sure?”
“I can feel it.” Urgency made Noa’s voice crack. “He’s slipping away.” She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, trying to summon her mental shields the way the elder had taught her. It was difficult. Her heart was hammering and her hands shook. She forced herself to become calm, and slowly, painstakingly, order was restored to her thoughts.
Zyara spoke harshly to Elgon in Kordolian, but Noa was almost oblivious to their conversation. She was too focused on Ashrael’s fading energy. She barely noticed as Elgon released his hold on her power. All she felt was a growing sense of emptiness.
Wake up! she screamed into the void, but he wasn’t listening.
He wasn’t there anymore.
All of a sudden, the Kordolians were beside her, Zyara on her left, and Elgon on her right.
“The mindbond was too powerful,” Elgon said softly, his voice tinged with regret as he placed a hand on her shoulder. “I couldn’t break it. Perhaps the assassin was too deeply attached.”
“That’s not true,” Noa blurted. “He detests it. He hates being controlled.” She didn’t know how she knew that, but it was the truth. “We have to do something. At this rate he’ll fade away.”
Elgon’s tone was one of calm acceptance. “Whatever happens now is up to the Goddess. I haven’t encountered a case like this in my lifetime. It is beyond my skill and power to rescue him.”
“No,” Noa whispered. This couldn’t be the end. She’d only just begun to know him.
Zyara looked at her with an odd expression. Gone was the gentle-natured medic who had treated her. Her orange eyes were cold and clear, her features a blank mask. There was nothing remotely Human about her. “He was as good as dead when the General defeated him. He knew that. He also knew what would happen if we failed to break the mindbond.”
“No,” Noa whispered. A chill spread through her as the emptiness within her grew. She couldn’t feel Ashrael’s presence at all.
Fragments of thoughts entered her mind. They were the unwanted thoughts of others, starting as a trickle and quickly turning into a flood. Noa gritted her teeth and tried to focus. As Ashrael’s consciousness had disappeared, so the maddening psychic interference had returned.
Why is this happening to me now?
Her mind had been blissfully silent, but now she was tormented by the dark thoughts of four Kordolian warriors and a medic as they watched their sworn enemy fade away.
“You can’t let him die,” Noa protested. She watched the holoscreen in growing horror as Rykal stepped away from Ashrael’s motionless form.
“As I told you before, if we can’t break the mindbond, there’s no other option,” Zyara said coldly. “That was always going to be the outcome. He’s an enemy, Noa. He’s been programmed to kill the General, and if we were to release him, or if he were to escape, there’s a strong possibility he might succeed. The Silent Ones are implacable. They do not stop until they’ve killed their targets, even if it leads to their downfall. It’s their greatest strength and their ultimate curse.”
“But he’s a Kordolian, isn’t he? He’s one of your own.”
“Just because we’re from the same planet doesn’t mean we’re united. He is a slave of the Empire and our sworn enemy. He knows the rules.”
Noa stared at the medic in disbelief. Sweet, caring Zyara was advocating the death of an enemy.
She had to remind herself that she was amongst aliens, and she didn’t really know much about them at all.
A new onslaught of images and emotions filled her mind. She caught fragments of savagery, of vengeful thoughts and ruthless resolve. She sensed their outrage. After all, here was one who had threatened their General and his mate.
Unforgivable.
Look at him. Poor bastard. But if the mindbond cannot be broken, death is the only option.
Their thoughts were melding together; she couldn’t tell them apart anymore. Her mind was turning into an echo chamber, her concentration torn to shreds.
“Open the door to his cell,” she urged, her words coming out as a hoarse whisper. “Please, Zyara.”
“You can’t go in there, Noa. He’s dangerous.” The medic’s tone was resigned. She wasn’t going to let Noa past, no matter what she said.
“He’s dying. Look at him. What is he going to do to me when he’s like that?”
That’s the way of the Universe. We live, we fight, for better or worse we choose sides, and eventually, we die.
The indifference of these Kordolians to Ashrael’s fate chilled her to the bone.
“What do you hope to achieve by going in there? Elgon can’t rescue him and you’re new to all this. I won’t put you at risk for his sake.”
“I need to bring him back.” Noa was getting frantic now, her panic rising. It was so hard to concentrate. Her head was a jumble of confusing, disturbing thoughts. In the midst of all this chaos, all she knew was that his presence, her link to him, kept the voices at bay. “I need him. Please, Zyara.” She didn’t know what she was saying anymore. She wasn’t rational anymore.
Zyara gave her a long hard look before shaking her head. “You Humans are at the root of all our irrational decisions. Impulsive, illogical, guided by your emotions.” She sighed, her lips quirking into a wry half-smile. “And somehow, you appeal to us at the basest levels.”
“The voices are back,” Noa whispered. “I don’t understand anything anymore, but my link to him keeps me sane. Please, just let me in.” She had no idea how she might bring him back, but she had to try something, anything.
“I can’t believe I’m seriously considering letting you do this,” Zyara exchanged a dubious look with Elgon.
“I doubt anyone can reach him now,” the elder said. “He’s become lost in the slipstream. His energy has merged with the nexus of the Universe.” He narrowed his eyes as he looked at Noa. “I underestimated your power, Human. We were so close to breaking the mindbond, but the strain on him was too great. Do not fear. Your bond with him is incomplete, so you will not suffer so much once it is gone. With time, you will learn to shut out the interference on your own, although nothing is quite as effective as finding a sarien.”
“I don’t have time,” Noa protested, her voice rising an octave. At this rate, madness was close. Perhaps she was already mad. “At least let me try.”
She remembered what the Soldar, Lalock, had taught her.
Pain was a focal point.
She remembered what she’d found out on her own.
Music was a focal point. It cleared the m
ind of all distractions and soothed a turbulent soul.
She had only her fragile mind, her bare hands, and a pair of audio-buds, but she had to try something.
“Go on then,” Zyara said quietly. “See for yourself, even if it’s only so you can gain closure and accept reality. I’m going to inform the warriors, then I’m going to open the door. I’ll be right behind you, but none of us can guarantee your safety in the unlikely event that he wakes up. Are you sure you really want to do this?”
“I have to,” was all Noa said as she headed for the door, her body moving of its own volition, almost as if it was guided by some mysterious hidden force.
Chapter Twelve
As Noa stumbled into the cell, her guide-light shone weakly around the room, illuminating dark sloping walls that receded into nothingness. It caught the silver faces of the four warriors. They watched her with cold, flat eyes, tracking her every move.
Gone was the easy banter and the reassuring sense that she was protected. They regarded her as if she were an enemy. Suddenly, the distance between Humans and Kordolians felt wide and gaping. Noa was an outsider here, and for the first time, she felt it keenly.
They had placed Ashrael’s lifeless form in a dark pod carved into the wall. She presumed this was the Kordolian version of a bed. He lay with his arm by his side, his robes blending with the inky blackness of the pod so that only his face and hand were visible. His chin was tilted back slightly, and in repose he looked incredibly peaceful. His pale, angular features were smooth and unearthly; they could have been carved from marble.
Noa watched carefully for any signs of life. For a moment, she thought she saw his chest rise and fall ever so slightly, but she wasn’t entirely sure.
Elgon warned him this might happen.
He knew it all along.
Death is a small mercy for a wretch like him.
In the end, he sought his freedom, enduring great suffering. That is honorable, even if his life wasn’t.
What does this Human expect to do now? Why does she even care? If he were awake, he would break her in two. Crazy, illogical, sentimental Humans.
