by Kyle West
“Even as the Elder Dragons cut off all ties, the Samalites used the vast quantities of ichor to create a ring of seven lakes to surround their city, designed to cool the air. And over the decades, with virtually unlimited supplies of ichor, the city grew and prospered. Xen covered the once scarred face of the Crater. Buildings were grown from the xen rather than being built from the xen, and hearing tales of its massive wealth, many Elekai flooded into the city — mostly Wilders, who were rapt with awe. Soon, it was the greatest power in the Red Wild, and would only grow stronger. At Hyperborea’s dawn, the eventual draining of the Sea of Creation was not even a thought. It was believed that it replenished at the same rate that it was tapped into — a fiction that continued to be promulgated even as it became clear the Sea was lowering during Hyperborea’s twilight. Despite the denunciation of the Elder Dragons and the warnings of the Prophetess, Mia Farl, who was exiled, nothing could slake Hyperborea’s thirst.”
“It would have been something to see Hyperborea,” Isaru said. “Even if it was the Elekai’s greatest mistake.”
“Perhaps it was a mistake,” Fiona said. “Even so, it did provide some benefits we still enjoy today. Whether those benefits outweigh the bad things is a matter of opinion.”
“What good did it do?” I asked.
“Well, its refining technology allows us to understand ichor and some of its uses. Besides medicine, it can create extremely light and durable materials. There are armor and weapons that still exist that are no longer possible to make, as the art of making them has been lost. Several such weapons can be seen in the museum. Hyperswords, hypermail, even hyperguns...”
I had never heard of such things, but apparently, Isaru had. “The guns can’t be fired,” he said to me. “We don’t know how to make the ammunition. However, the swords and mail are still useful, and can’t be broken or pierced by conventional weapons.”
“How is that possible?” I asked.
“The blades and mail were refined using ichor,” Fiona said. “People can’t do that anymore. It would take large amounts of ichor, so the cost would be astronomical.” Fiona paused. “It’s not just weapons, of course. Sages owe much of what they know of directed xenogrowth from Hyperborea. And, if what I’ve read is to be believed, the sky before Hyperborea was dusty and red, due to the impact of Ragnarok. The dust settled greatly over time, but it would have taken centuries for the sky to revert to its Precursor days. It was before the war with the Shen, during the height of Hyperborea’s power, that it developed these towers that were planted all throughout the Red Wild and even across the ocean in xen colonies. They filtered the atmosphere clean within a few decades, were able to drastically alter Earth’s climate, allowing more sunlight to reach the surface. Places that hadn’t known a blue sky in two centuries, suddenly did.”
“I thought the stories of red skies were only a myth,” I said.
“Doubtless, that is what most believe,” Fiona said. “According to this reading, though, they weren’t.”
“What else did they do?” Isaru asked.
“Other things are mentioned. During its height, Hyperborea controlled pretty much all of North America, Colonia excluded. There was little desire to liberate Colonia, and at the time, Colonia was a poor land with many troubles. Indeed, its government nearly collapsed on itself, though there was a party of Elekai that wanted revenge for the Exile. However, Colonia had driven the Elekai out only to make them more powerful than ever.”
“They should have conquered Colonia when they had the chance,” Isaru said. “Ever since the Third Century, they have been a thorn in our side.”
“Even with their great power, Hyperborea was a peaceful city,” Fiona said. “It wasn’t until the Shen arrived from across the Pacific that its test for existence would begin.”
“That was the war Elder Isandru talked about,” I said. “The one he said lasted thirty years and caused the Sea to finally become depleted.”
Fiona nodded. “Yes. The two empires destroyed one another. Though the Shen were driven from California and back across the ocean, it caused the Sea of Creation to become depleted. That was when the first reversions came about, and what the Shen couldn’t finish off, the Mindless did. Within another twenty years, Hyperborea was but a memory, having been overrun countless times, and what Elekai were left — including those of the Makai, the Annajen, and the Wilders in their own cities and holds — banded together to survive the onslaught. It took about fifty years for the Wild to heal enough that the tide of monsters could be pushed back. That’s two whole generations of Elekai that lived under the constant threat of extinction. And no longer checked by Hyperborea’s power, Colonia grew. When the Third Empire of Nova came on the scene, along with the return of the Shen in the Fourth Century, it set the stage for the world we find ourselves in today. Very simply put, of course.”
“Doesn’t sound simple to me,” I said.
“Mireda’s Annals of the Elekai is very long, and where there are no facts, he resorts to stories and myths. All of what I’ve said should be taken with a grain of salt, but at least some of it might be true.”
“There is more written on Hyperborea than I previously thought,” Isaru said. “I had never heard of Mireda until I came here, and just haven’t had the time to look at Annals.”
“A lot of historians find him sensationalist, biased, and overly reliant on stories and myths,” Fiona said. “Which are all fair critiques. Mireda lived over a hundred years ago. At that time, some Hyperboreans still lived, so it’s probably that what he wrote came from those accounts. That said, it’s hard to tell what is exaggerated and what isn’t. Nothing exists in the library that was written during the time of Hyperborea itself, such was the finality of its destruction. And the danger of Ragnarok Crater in the following years, even to this day, precludes any further investigation.”
“Just to think of what could be discovered,” Isaru said. “Far more than our library even contains. Not only the history, but all the lost knowledge.”
“Many have had the same idea,” Fiona said. “Let’s just say they didn’t live to see a ripe old age. Still, in every generation there seems to be at least one great adventurer who sets out to do it.” She paused ominously. “And every time, they never return.”
“This is all great,” I said, “but what does it have to do with the coming of the Second Darkness and what we learned in the reversion?”
“Perhaps nothing at all,” Fiona said. “I only began researching Hyperborea’s history because its rise to power coincided with the Sundering of the Dragons. I thought learning more about it might lead us to actually finding the Elder Dragons. If we find the dragons, who knew Anna in the flesh, we can confirm everything we learned. There are many things they will know that we simply do not.” She paused. “I’ve also written to my uncle to see if he has any resources about the Elder Dragons.”
“You mean, King Caris of the Makai?” Isaru asked.
Fiona nodded. “I wrote shortly after we returned from the reversion. I have yet to hear back — it’s an awful long way, after all — but I should hear something at any moment. The King has a large library which contains many tomes that don’t exist here. And Quietus being the patron dragon of the Makai means my uncle might have texts regarding her in particular.”
“What will you do if he does have something?” Isaru asked.
“I’ll have to go there to research it for myself.”
That made me blink. Even if Fiona and I didn’t really speak to each other in the Sanctum, the idea of her being gone still made me uncomfortable. Among the three of us, she was the natural leader. She had been the one to lead us into the reversion without any form of hesitation, and even now, she had been the one to organize this meeting.
“Don’t worry,” she said. “I’ll make the trip as quickly as I can. By dragon, I can reach Sylva in four days.”
Isaru’s eyes lit. “I’ve just thought of something. I’ve been such a fool not to see it before...�
�
“What?”
“Jorla. She might know something about the Elders.”
“No dragon would give up the location of one of the Elders,” Fiona said. “Even a dragon that’s a friend. Even Generationals like Jorla can’t just fly up to an Elder like it’s nothing.”
“But if she were to know Shanti’s identity, perhaps she would volunteer something. It’s better than nothing at all.”
Fiona was quiet on that point; she seemed to be thinking. “The dragons don’t much like us, with rare exceptions. To go to one of their aeries and ask to speak with an Elder would be unheard of.”
From Isaru’s expression, I could tell that he could see Fiona’s point. “She would have to be told about Shanti. Jorla would never tell anyone else. I’ve known her my whole life. Even so, I don’t believe Jorla would do that unless she was sure that another dragon would accept it.”
“Where is Jorla?” I asked. “We haven’t seen her since Haven.”
Here, Isaru smiled. “That is something I’ve been keeping from you both. Jorla is here.”
Fiona’s eyes widened, and I must have had much the same reaction. “You mean...at the Sanctum?”
“She wanted to come visit me,” Isaru said.
“How long has she been here?” Fiona asked.
“It’s not as if she’s here all the time,” Isaru said. “She’s just staying in the area. She comes to visit me sometimes on the walls perhaps once a week. It has been this way ever since the reversion.”
“And no one has caught you?”
“Not yet,” Isaru said. “Surprisingly.”
“You’ve been meeting at night, then.”
Isaru gave a single nod.
“Have you already told Jorla about...” I had been about to say my own name, but stopped myself. “About Anna?”
“Not yet. Although she knows I’m keeping something from her — something I’ve never done before.”
Fiona looked at Isaru before her gray eyes settled on me. “Do we tell her?”
I was hesitant to let anyone else in on our secret, but telling Jorla seemed to be different than telling someone like Ret or Samal — especially when considering Jorla might even be able to help us.
“We should,” I said. “Only...why have you kept Jorla’s presence secret so long?”
“I don’t know,” he finally said.
“Isaru...” Fiona went quiet, waiting for Isaru to look at her. When he did, she continued. “We’re all in this together. If there is anything else you know that we don’t, we need to hear it now.”
“There is nothing.”
“Well...” Fiona said, “is there anything new for you to report, Shanti?”
“I’ve told Isaru about it already, but I had a dream last night. My first real dream since the reversion.”
I told her of what I had seen of Anna’s life — her fears, her baby, who was the child of Elekim himself. No, not Elekim. Alex. It was still hard not to think of these people as gods.
“The first Elekai,” Fiona said. “The dream may not have seemed like much, but to have seen Anna, Ruth, and Anna’s son is a remarkable revelation. Perhaps the meaning isn’t clear now, but perhaps with time, you’ll figure it out.”
“Isandru said he wouldn’t be surprised if more of Anna’s memories return.”
Another part I left unsaid. Sometimes, I got these flashes of thoughts that didn’t seem to come from me. It was too uncomfortable to admit, even to myself. It was as if Anna were inside me, buried, and she was trying to get out. It had me waking up at night in cold sweats. What if, one day, I woke up to find that I was another person? Or would it be more gradual?
I realized that Isaru wasn’t the only one with secrets.
“Are you all right?” Fiona asked.
I forced myself to nod. “It’s nothing.”
Fiona took in both Isaru and me. “Part of the reason I’ve called this meeting is to have an arena to talk outside Isandru. Despite what he has revealed so far, I can’t help but feel there are some things he’s keeping hidden. I’ve spoken with him about this already, and he denies it. If so, then why is he so guarded about his past? Why not just tell us how he came to the Sanctum, or how he spent the years between his flight from Hyperborea and now? He knows much more than we could ever get from books, and yet he keeps this information to himself.”
“Perhaps his reasons are beyond any of us,” Isaru said. “Perhaps we shouldn’t question it.”
“Really? Not question it? How couldn’t we?”
“That’s not what I meant,” Isaru said. “Rather, perhaps he wants to ease us into it. For him to reveal everything at once could be overwhelming.”
“How so?” I asked.
“Maybe I’m wrong,” Isaru said. “But one thing I do know: Isandru is wise beyond our comprehension, as might be expected of someone who has lived to be nearly two centuries of age. He has had experiences that none of us could dream of, much less understand. Perhaps he knows that there are some things we just couldn’t get, just because we weren’t alive during those times.”
“So, he just keeps everything to himself?” I asked.
To me, that sounded incredibly lonely. How would it feel to be the only person still alive, your entire city and family destroyed? Something told me that two centuries couldn’t erase that pain.
“I can only speculate,” Isaru said.
“What does all this mean, then?” I asked. “It’s been two months, and we’re only a little further than we were before. For some reason, I feel we can’t get any further until we take our search outside the Sanctum.”
“I’m probably going to Sylva soon, because I think my uncle’s letter will confirm my suspicions,” Fiona said. “I may not have to do much research at all; my Uncle Caris is an expert in dragon lore, and he might give me an answer I can use straight away.”
“For now,” Isaru said, “I believe Elder Isandru is right about saying that Shanti and I should remain in the Sanctum to train.”
“So do I,” Fiona said. “As initiates, the Sanctum is your place. Traditionally, even apprentices aren’t allowed to range far, and usually only under Seeker supervision.”
“Twenty is the earliest one can be raised to Seeker,” I said. “Something tells me the Second Darkness will be coming long before that.”
I remembered something Isandru had said after we had returned from the reversion. He wanted to keep things under control for as long as he could, but he recognized at some point, events would slip away from him. I wondered whether my plan to return to Colonia earlier would qualify as events slipping away.
Before that could happen, though, I needed a tangible plan.
I realized it had been a while since anyone had spoken, but it was Fiona who broke the silence.
“We should disperse,” Fiona said. “We’ll meet at the same time next week, unless any of us says otherwise.”
“When are you leaving for Sylva?” I asked.
“As soon as I hear word from my uncle. When that happens, I’ll be sure the both of you know.”
Each left Old Silver by a different direction, and within a few minutes, I found myself in my dorm. Isa was already asleep, as was her custom.
Life never stopped in the Sanctum, and it was hard to see how I’d ever leave this place and find my parents when there were always things to do.
CHAPTER SEVEN
THE WALLS OF COLONIA WERE rising, and Anna walked in the desert outside the city to survey the progress. They had been rising for ten months, to the point where most of Colonia’s interior buildings, most no more than two stories, were now hidden. The wall’s smooth, red sandstone basked in the late afternoon light. The city was scarcely two years old, and Anna could only marvel at how far it had come along. Some twenty thousand people now called Colonia home, most being immigrants from the south rather than native Wastelanders. A good portion of those immigrants were escaped slaves who saw Colonia as a safe haven. Samuel promised them sanctuary,
and that didn’t make the governors and elite of Nova Roma’s upper provinces happy, but Samuel would never allow slavery in his city — a point on which he butted heads with Augustus often.
These days, it was more than just often. Samuel, Ruth, Michael, Anna — anyone who had been part of the inner circle — were now talking of a daring plan that would openly defy Augustus, who was placing increasing pressure on the province of El Yermo to conform to Imperial standards. Anna could see it written in the future, as if it were prophecy. Colonia’s values and the Empire’s could not coincide forever. Augustus and Samuel did everything they could to keep the peace, but Augustus was under his own form of pressure from the Imperial Senate to bring Colonia to heel. They demanded the return of escaped slaves, and Augustus had commanded Samuel to not bar the work of slave catchers on official business in the city. Samuel, in defiance, did all he could to protect the escaped slaves, often sending them far from the city by employing them on Bunker dig sites. Even so, it was only a temporary solution.
Hence, the walls. One of the escaped slaves — a man by the name of Julio Valencia — had been an architect and a highly educated man in the Old World. When Dark Day had happened, he had been acquired by the Empire and had designed many of its public works in its outer provinces. He had escaped upon hearing about Colonia, and now, he worked for Samuel, and in short order had directed a lot of Colonia’s labor toward the construction of the wall, after having a quarry dug northwest of the city. Though the work in the quarry and building the wall was grueling, people who had once been slaves at least earned an honest wage and were guaranteed compensation if they were injured on the job — benefits that far exceeded their old status. All this could be funded by the batts earned from scrap mining. There were even talks now to scrap north in Vegas.
Wealth flowed through the city from various digs: computers, tools, ion batteries, recycling equipment, rare metals, weapons, clothing, wiring, medicines, most of which were in pristine condition — these were all to be had from the scrap rush, and men could make fortunes selling scrap to the Novans that could no longer be easily obtained.