“We’re still straight.”
“How do you know?”
I squinted at him, annoyed. “If a member of the Nehelian Enforcers couldn’t navigate through murky environments, he would have a very short career.”
“Most of them had short careers anyway,” added Leid.
I ignored her two cents.
Yahweh nodded, deciding to trust me. We pressed on.
*
We hit land a few hours later. I was really relieved, since all that time had allowed my paranoia to convince me that we were fucked. I didn’t tell Yahweh that, though.
I had been right, we were flying straight—but if Exo’daius’s geology even remotely resembled The Atrium’s, then we could have passed several islands without even seeing them.
But the world was solid-cored; the cliffs of this uncharted land were relatively even with the cliffs from which we had departed. There were no islands, which made me wonder what lay at the bottom of the gorge.
The mist thinned, then cleared altogether as our feet touched yellow grass. I placed Leid down and stretched my wings before retracting them—they were sore from the hours-long flight. I hadn’t used them for decades. Yahweh felt the same, wincing as he stretched.
Leid seemed unfazed and only moved ahead, stopping to survey the horizon. Her armor—battle gown and hooded robe, adorned with the blazing sigil of Enigmus—blended with her hair, making a form of pure black against a vibrant red and yellow wash of sky and ground.
She looked over her shoulder, eyes shimmering like chrome. “Update the attica thread.”
Yahweh and I were on it.
I logged that the world was solid-cored; he added a note that the landscape remained homogenous thus far. I made another note of the approximate amount of time and latitude it had taken to get here. The Court would be relieved that we were still alive.
Not a minute later, Zira added a geographical sub-thread that mapped out the landscape and shape of Enigmus. He was requesting that we filled in our part of the world. Couldn’t do that quite yet.
Once Leid was assured that nothing was about to kill us, we took a ten minute breather. Anywhere else, this trip wouldn’t have slowed us at all.
Leid chose to stand, keeping her attention to the great beyond. So far the scenery looked like Enigmus; a field of grass, red sky, nothing else.
No, there was something else—;
Beyond the haze over the horizon there was a small, circular outline that shined brighter than the rest of the sky. A sun.
Exo’daius had a sun.
I logged that into attica. Leid had already noticed, but my update prompted Yahweh to gaze skyward. His eye widened.
“Which way next?” I asked.
Yahweh hesitated, unsure.
Leid pointed northeast.
I was startled by her immediacy. “What do you see?”
“Another thread,” she said. “It’s leading that way.”
*
We adhered to Leid’s plan: explore for one day, then head back to discuss with the Court what we would do next. We had already confirmed that there was more to Exo’daius than we’d thought. How much was the next question.
Leid led the way as Yahweh and I trailed several feet behind her. Our journey was quiet, since all three of us were too busy coming to terms with everything. I juggled my attention between the sun, trying to determine if there was any movement from it as the day pressed on, and the back of Leid’s head in a confused, reverent stare. I could only wonder what this world looked like through her eyes.
The presence of an Exodian sun was a ground-shaking discovery. It would change the way we thought about the Vel’Haru world. A sun meant this world had mass, gravity and a bed of space. It meant there were specific laws that it abided by—however mysterious they remained. It meant Exo’daius wasn’t corporeal, on some metaphysical plane beyond scope. It was tangible.
The flat terrain spanned into a rolling one. Halfway up a massive hill, Leid stopped. We stood sentry on either side of her. All of us stared toward the top of the cliff.
Leid saw something, but we felt something. Our fatigue was fading, our bodies reenergizing with both anticipation and some unknown charge. After a moment she took a step forward, ready to press on.
“Once we’re over this hill, keep behind me at all times,” she ordered. “Stay close and alert.”
Yahweh and I shared a wary gaze, following Leid’s ascent. We clutched our weapons a little more tightly from then on.
At the top of the hill, a city lay on the horizon. We stopped to marvel; except for Leid, whose expression grew darker as she surveyed the scenery. On our cozy side of the world, the only buildings present were Enigmus and the Sanctuary—pillar gardens too, if you wanted to count that. This was something else entirely.
Cylindrical towers spiraled into the sky like monuments, stationed at four points along the sprawling sea of domiciles. The entire city was connected by outdoor bridge-ways. Black domes of varying sizes were situated between the bridge-ways. The center of the city held a dome larger than the rest, with spires that looked identical to our pillars.
We watched for movement. There was none. On the surface this city seemed abandoned. Leid had spoken on the hill as if she knew otherwise.
“Does the thread lead there?” asked Yahweh, nodding at the valley.
“I’ve dreamt of this place before,” she said.
Yahweh looked hopeful. “You’ve been here, then?”
She shook her head. “It was always in the backdrop.”
“Then it’s important,” I said. “Let’s go.”
Leid updated Zira’s map with the abandoned city. She closed her eyes and included the scenic recollection, the image appearing next to the beacon she had designated as its location. Our eyes and memories were cameras, if we willed it.
We began down the hill, toward the city perimeter.
This was getting pretty exciting.
***
Pariah Andosyni—;
Few of us had left Euxodia since Leid and her guardians had departed. We ate our meals here, researched here, and some of us even slept here. For half a day we remained huddled around the oscillating attica stream of the exploration thread, hoping to be the first to see another update.
The discovery of a sun caused a crescendo of discussion about the implication that our world had laws resembling extramural places. The steam had run out once every hypothesis was squeezed from this new fact, and now we waited for the next morsel.
It came several hours later.
A map update; they had found a city. Leid included a visual.
We gaped at the image.
“It’s made of obsidian,” said Zira, breathless. “There were more of us.”
“Same material, different architecture,” said Adrial. “There was more of something, but not necessarily us.”
We digested that thought.
“The city looks abandoned,” said Aela, somber. “Where did they go?”
No one knew the answer, so no one responded.
Then, I had a revelation.
“Look at the construction,” I said, rising from my seat. “Their city was built elevated from the ground. Why?”
I knew why; I was just testing the others.
“The valley was carved by water,” said Zira, confusion in his eyes. “But there is no water.”
“No water now, but what if there had been?”
That forced them to toss aside the notion that Exo’daius was exempt from chronology. It may not have been water but some other form of liquid substance, yet the point was that the landscape had changed over time. The city was a piece of its history.
“Well done,” said Adrial, saluting me with his glass. “That deserves a place on the thread. Do us the honor.”
I did, warm with pride. Zira looked annoyed that I had beaten him to that conclusion. I let him stew. He already owned a third of every entry in attica’s database; it was time to carve my territory.<
br />
***
Qaira Eltruan—;
Pariah’s update blipped into our attica thread. It was a geographical and historical update; something about there having been liquid in this area at one point. That was obvious, though I hadn’t really given it much thought, considering everything else. Everything else being creeping through an abandoned Exodian city.
There were no walls or any other means of defense systems around its perimeter. A staircase led up to the first circular platform, which then led to a bridge. Such a lack of defense could only mean one thing.
“No enemies,” I thought aloud.
Leid and Yahweh paused up ahead at a bridge housed by a thin, obsidian mezzanine. They both looked back at me in unison.
“No doors, no walls, no enemies,” I elaborated, barely, gazing through an oval window that overlooked the valley boundary.
Leid nodded, catching on. “Same as Enigmus. We have no enemies, either.”
“Because we’re the only ones there,” finished Yahweh.
I caught up to them, eyes trained on the large dome that marked the end of our first expedition. We were still miles away. “I’m willing to bet this is the only place we’ll find around here. They thought they were alone, too.”
Neither responded, as they both agreed. This opened the door to a ton of other questions, but none of us bothered to waste any more energy than necessary. It had already been a day since we’d eaten and although we could go several without food, we weren’t immune to hunger and fatigue. All we had brought with us were a few Archaean stones to absorb once we decided to rest. Hopefully that was soon.
As we crossed the bridge, I added our newest findings into attica. This would give our Court a lot more to chew on than erosion.
*
At the tenth bridge, Leid finally decided to break. Yahweh and I had clearly been running on low but neither of us had complained; this was partly due to excitement, another part pride since Leid’s poker face never waned and we felt pressured to act accordingly.
Yahweh had been the first to fall. He’d staggered into a wall of a dome that arched over another mezzanine, dropping his weapon. Until then everything had been so quiet that the sound of his pole-arm clattering to the floor had startled us. He’d apologized profusely as he retrieved the weapon, his cheeks flushed with shame.
At this point, had we been faced with a threat, Leid’s guardians would be useless. She ordered us to rest, with some reluctance.
We sat on the bridge and leaned against the wall of the archway, absorbing a few Archaean stones. They were paperweights used by the administration of the Argent Court, so Yahweh could retrieve them in bulk whenever he returned to his native world on supply runs. Their heavy-metal composition made them invaluable to us, especially in situations like this.
The mezzanine was constructed of thin obsidian—translucent enough to see through; light shined through the tinted panes and casted us in shade. I watched the sky through the panes as the paperweight dissolved into my fist, feeling that first surge of energy as my body began its refueling process. I had an itch to smoke a cigarette—malay or otherwise—and the craving was irritating enough that I made a note to kick the habit when we got back.
If we got back.
I wasn’t sure why that last thought had invaded my mind. So far nothing had proven to be an imminent threat on this expedition. Exhausting, sure; there was also the risk of getting lost but Leid was following some sort of invisible thread, so all was well on that front. Sarcasm included.
But something wasn’t right. To be fair, there was nothing ‘right’ about finding an abandoned Exodian city on an unexplored landmass—;
However, how the inhabitants had left it was the real problem.
“Not a single artifact anywhere,” said Yahweh, his face twisted with confusion. He’d been mulling over this for a while. “Enigmus has our equipment, and rooms, and other general traces of our existence.”
“Maybe they didn’t want to leave a trace,” I ventured. “Maybe they left of their own accord.”
“To where?” asked Yahweh. He threw up his hands to emphasize his frustration. “Where else is there to go for things like us?”
I lifted a brow. “Things like us?”
He back-pedaled. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
“I hope not,” I scoffed, then added, “Maybe something chased them out.”
Leid looked at me. We locked eyes.
“I’m right, aren’t I?” I dared, wondering how much of her dreams she’d been withholding from us.
She glanced away, thoughtful, conflicted. “I don’t know. Not yet.”
“Fine,” I muttered, shaking out my fist once the metal ball was all gone. “We need to sleep or we’ll never find out. I’ll take first watch.”
“No,” said Leid, standing. “I’ll watch first. Rest, both of you.”
Yahweh and I watched in silence as she moved across the mezzanine, slowing at the adjacent archway. Leid sat at the top of the staircase with her back turned, studying the dead city.
“She’s acting strangely,” said Yahweh, whispering.
“I noticed.”
He regarded me, concerned. “You know her better than anyone. What’s going on?”
I leaned my head against the wall and closed my eyes, too exhausted to do this right now. “I’ve been with her for a thousand years and I still never know what the fuck is going on. Keep up.”
~*~
MEMORY LOG I—;
I FELT THE LIGHT BEFORE I saw it.
A blinding flash; everyone on the north side of Vaizera turned to dust.
The light receded, no one remained.
My brother was studying with Preceptor today, and I had just watched him die. I would have been there, too, had my progenitor not asked that I finish our tapestry.
A sour smell fouled the air, something burning and rotting at the same time. I watched from the window of our abode, tapestry still clutched in my trembling hands. What was left of Vaizera had frozen in time. We were all too shocked to act. Too shocked to think.
Too shocked to run.
A low-pitched drone filled the sky, overlapping the smell. It sounded like machinery.
The pressure changed; my antennae throbbed. Caution.
Vaizera exploded to life.
I clutched my shaking progenitor’s wrist and we sped from our abode, melding with the crowd fleeing through the concourse, ascending the southern artery.
Explosions went off behind us. The sky flashed once more.
Others around me began to disappear from my peripherals. I dared to look back. They lay across the concourse, unmoving, each of them pierced with a long, twisted lance. Others floated face-down in the river, gliding along with the current.
My progenitor was next to fall. I was still clutching her wrist, and my arm jerked so forcibly that shooting pain rippled through my shoulder. I uttered a cry, halting to aid her.
She pushed me away, screaming for me to run. Blood trickled from her mouth, staining her teeth and chin. A lance pierced the soft space below her neck, pinning her to the floor. I didn’t want to run and knelt in front of my dying progenitor, blood tears trickling from my eyes.
Another explosion.
I relieved myself to survival instinct. Wincing with guilt, I left my progenitor to die alone in Veizera’s southern artery. Half of our city lay dead already, yet our hunters remained invisible.
The only chance to survive was at the antechamber. The dome, cradled within the heart of Veizera, housed the portals necessary for an escape. Where we would go, I didn’t know, but that was a much easier problem to tackle than a lance through my chest, or complete vaporization.
I focused on the thunder of my pulse and nothing else, eyes trained on the antechamber as it filled more and more of my panoramic view.
Don’t look back, don’t look back.
And then I realized that I still had my tapestry, now wet with my progenitor’s blood.
&nb
sp; VII
CULLING OF THE WEAK
Pariah Andosyni—;
THERE WEREN’T ANY UPDATES FOR the subsequent hours and eventually all but Leid’s attica status moved to stasis. They were resting, which meant it was time for recess.
We ate evening meal in the dining hall together, marking the first time Euxodia was completely vacant in two days. We formed our normal groups—Adrial and Aela, Zira and myself—and were seated in close proximity of each other so we could intervene in any cross-conversations.
And then there was Sapphire, alone at the left-most corner of our twenty foot table. She spent her time querying attica, keeping to herself. I often forgot she was here and could count the times she’d spoken over the past decade on a single hand. Her silence intrigued me. I often found myself glancing in her general direction. Tonight was no different.
Zira regarded me with a raised brow. “Why do you keep looking at her?”
I offered him a small shrug. “She’s the only member of our court who isn’t up for a chat until they’re blue in the face. That doesn’t interest you?”
It was Zira’s turn to shrug, taking a bite of warm, fruit-filled starch. “The novelty wore off several hundred years ago. Sapphi’s been quiet since day one.” Their endless competition (or at least Zira’s endless competition with Sapphire) was no secret among the Court.
Sapphire Dileesa was an ivory guardian, oldest of Enigmus next to Zira and Adrial. Our prior King had chosen Sapphire whenever a contract delivered tough demands—patience, analysis, caution. She often got the high-concept contracts that Zira desired, which had driven a wedge between them.
It wasn’t the first time I’d heard of Zira’s mistreatment from the old regime. Being constantly overlooked by his noble had been traumatizing to him. At least, that was the reason I used to explain why he was always so... callous. There were probably other reasons; Enigmus was in tumult right before I’d joined its ranks.
Dysphoria: Rise (Hymn of the Multiverse 6) Page 5