by Aleks Canard
‘We won’t know until it’s over.’
‘And by then it may be too late. What did you see in the mirror?’
‘Nadira and I were taken to a crossroads. Grey corridors further than my eyes could see. Every now and then there were veils, one black, and one white. Each with opposite names. Behind the veils are portals. A portal named Marauder’s Mecca was the one that brought us to Dark’s Hide, or rather, outside of it.’
Altayr’s eyes went wide like a child when presented with a gift. Actually, his excitement was so palpable that it was closer to a virgin seeing a naked woman for the first time.
‘That is amazing. There must be some correlation to the colours. The portal that Faedra entered was black. The one I summoned was grey. Perhaps white portals are instantaneous teleportation within our world, and grey ones, or incomplete portals, since we don’t have the other mirror, take us to these corridors of which you speak. A mid-way point. This is fascinating. Truly marvellous. Such a discovery has never been made with such undeniable evidence. I wonder where it is the black portals lead. Possibly an alternate dimension, or a world that mirrors our own. It must be the later. I know Black mages speak of it as a shadow world. Some call it the Negative.’
‘I wouldn’t call anecdotes from two people undeniable evidence. We might’ve been hallucinating, or the whole thing might’ve been an illusion.’
I’ve had experience with illusions, Trix thought, almost speaking. Illusions that are so real they tattoo themselves on the inside of your eyelids and speak to you from the shadows.
‘Well,’ Altayr said, casting a look to his ship. ‘We’ll soon find out.’
Trix thought she heard Gauthier laughing. Wishing for Altayr to continue his research.
‘Promise me you’ll be careful. Gauthier might return through them.’
Altayr’s happiness was wiped from his face at the mention of Gauthier’s name. ‘I believe I know his magical signature after experiencing it so prominently at the “graveyard.” I won’t be making that mistake.’
‘No one plans to make mistakes by its definition.’
‘I suppose they don’t.’
‘I’d ask what you’re doing once you finish here, but I doubt you’ll ever leave your tower once you return to it. Even if the galaxy does dissolve into war. You’ll be obliviously studious.’
‘You know me too well. I hope you’ll visit on occasion, or even when a contract makes you come calling to Yephus. I know you like to frequent one plateau in particular but it’d be pleasant for us to spend time together without the pressure of monsters or demons.’
Trix kissed Altayr. ‘So long as you have some djurelian liquor.’
‘For you I would buy a distillery.’
‘Now that you mention it, I’m a little low on gun oil.’
‘That’s hardly a fitting gift. And certainly not a drink.’
‘Anything’s a drink if you’re desperate enough.’
‘A grim thought indeed.’
Trix looked at Altayr. Listened to his heartbeat. There was a scar on the side of his head where a bullet had grazed him. It’d been reopened by Faedra’s staff.
‘I see you’ve decided not to cover up that misadventure.’
Altayr looked perplexed for a moment before realising what Trix was saying.
‘Oh, that. I figured that when death brushes by so close, it’s not right to remove his handiwork, or he might return to do a better job. And Valentine said it looked good.’
‘I see. I thought you hated him, yet here you are, speaking as poetically as the brigadier himself, and agreeing with him to boot.’
‘I cannot say whether or not Valentine is a good man. But I do believe he’s a good friend. One you’re lucky to have. As he is you.’
‘He could be your friend too if you weren’t so condescending towards him.’
‘I’ll work on it in the future.’
‘Is that before or after your research concludes?’
‘Now look who’s being condescending.’
‘I’m only telling the truth.’
‘Then why can’t you tell me where you’re going after this?’
‘… Zilvia. I have a few things to do there.’
Altayr smiled. He embraced Trix in a warm hug. ‘I think it’s time you had a home again. I’m happy for you.’
They parted.
Trix pointed to the Fox.
‘That’s home,’ Trix said. ‘Been home longer than anywhere else I’ve ever lived. But Mair Ultima, Zilvia, they’re special to me. Being able to visit is all I’ve ever wanted.’
‘Then I’m glad your wishes have come true.’
‘All without a djinn or a crossroad demon. Who would’ve thought?’
The machina and the sorcerer laughed. Their mirth filled the pragmatic dock to the brim. It pushed at the blast doors and wound its way back into the emporium. Trix and Altayr spoke a little more before finally parting ways. They would be seeing each other again. Farewell was not goodbye.
Before Trix boarded the Fox, Altayr gave her a copy of Siella’s Prophecy which he had translated from ancient zirean. All he asked was that she not upload it to any database. Trix agreed and pocketed the note. She would put it with her Garth Roche journal. With a final kiss, she ascended the loading ramp.
Altayr stood on the docks as he watched the Fox’s thrusters power up, then charge into space, away from Dark’s Hide.
Happier than he’d been in years, Altayr Van Eldric walked back to the emporium.
He had a lot of work to do.
3
The Fox and the Red Queen parked far from the gaze of Dark’s Hide’s orbital cannons.
They were near the Dying Star Nexus’ fringe. A small black hole was devouring a dwarf star in the distance. It looked like water draining from a bath in super slow motion. In fact, it actually appeared to be frozen.
A video call from Valentine obscured Trix’s view.
‘So, where are we heading?’ Valentine said. He was leaning on Serena’s chair. Serena was dressed in her standard pilot clothes again. There was no need for battle-armour anymore. Though Trix kept hers on. The next claim on her life could come at any time. She was glad Dai of Thyria was on her side. Him as an assassin would make for plenty of sleepless nights.
‘You need to rest, old man,’ said Trix, minimising her friend’s face to her HUD’s corner so she could continue looking at the black hole. How easily it pulled apart the star. Unravelling it like a ball of yarn. Wisps floated through space, colouring the darkness.
Garth Roche’s notes came to the forefront of her mind. He had written SUNS OR TRANSFERS? and something about a supermassive black hole, probably the one which resided in the Milky Way’s centre.
Trix wondered if what killed the Uldarians didn’t come from other galaxies at all. Instead, it slumbered in the Milky Way’s centre, not a black hole, but some kind of base, or gateway.
For a second, the dying star for which the system was named became a microcosm of destruction. Trix saw it as the entire Milky Way being devoured by an otherworldly force. Faceless. Merciless. Starving.
Valentine’s voice brought her back to the conversation.
‘I rested enough in hospital. I want something to do when I’ve finished my day’s writing.’
‘You could practice not complaining,’ said Serena.
‘That seems too tiresome,’ the author said.
‘I have something you two could help me with if you wanted.’
‘Please, no demons, no mercenaries, and no mages.’
‘Follow me to Zilvia. You’ll see.’
The machina punched it to ultrasonic then shifted gears into hyperspace. Serena, not to be outdone, did the same. Next stop was the Rose Vale Transfer.
Trix flew her ship to Felix’s plateau on the Fynoed Mountains once both parties arrived in Zilvia’s orbit. Serena took the Red Queen to Blor’daeyn’s docks as it was too large to fit on the plateau’s remaining space. She and Valentine j
oined Trix just over ten minutes later. Serena was driving the Aeon coupe Trix had rolled during battle with the Guild’s soldiers. It was riddled with bullet holes. Plasma had altered the red paint job in bizarre streaks and patterns. Serena had worked on it while Nadira’s staff fixed the Red Queen.
The machina was staring at Felix’s ruined cabin. A partially collapsed roof. Broken walls. Shattered windows. People had really gone to town on this place.
‘This was your home,’ Valentine said, speaking softly. Dawn was still announcing itself on Zilvia. The peace that preceded it was delicate like butterfly wings. Like a lie. As if the world during this moment was so beautiful that it had to be an illusion. Speaking too loudly could break everything. It could all come crashing down like a cheap theatre backdrop.
Surprise! You’re not really on Zilvia experiencing a touching moment between friends. You’re in the Riddling Arena, and she’s got flesh on the brain, pain in her veins, and an everlasting tyrannical reign. Please enjoy your stay, and keep your limbs close by. If you lose too many of them you’ll surely die.
‘Sure was,’ Trix said, stepping towards the front door. ‘And it will be again. It just needs a little attention.’
Valentine stepped beside her. He was wearing a hooded jumper underneath his Meteor Brigade jacket. His jeans and combat boots were still covering his bionic legs. A new beanie adorned his head. This one was a chunky, red knit, with a bon-bon on the end. His stubble had grown out to a short beard.
‘I won’t be good at fighting for a while. But I reckon I can help you out with a hammer and some mortar if you need it.’
‘I can only afford to pay you in beer.’
‘We can go halves,’ Serena said, standing on Trix’s left. ‘So long as we’re your first guests.’
‘I wouldn’t have it any other way,’ Trix said.
‘You know, I had the craziest vision while I was fighting those damned soldiers.’
‘Seeing things? You really are getting on,’ Serena said, moving closer to the house so she could peek inside the windows. It was a mess. They’d have to clean everything out before making a decent start.
‘Don’t lash me. I’m still tender. But yes, I did see something. Not long after I asked you to come to Dark’s Hide. I saw the idea for a story.’
‘Oh yeah? One about crossroad demons by any chance?’
‘No, though you best believe that’ll be a novella at the very least. What a fascinating tale. Like a genie who longs for freedom, only with far direr consequences. Actually, that’s not bad. A demon who masquerades as a genie, befriends his summoner, and requests freedom. Brilliant.
‘The other story though, I only received an inkling. Something about a man named Dante Quintrell. It was epic. Enough for me to feel so euphoric that I thought I was seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. Then it was gone. That was when you contacted me.’
‘When I left the crossroads,’ Trix nodded. ‘Are you going to tell me more?’
‘I don’t want to jinx it.’
‘Is that a double entendre? Are you saying that Jinx of Zyr won’t be making an appearance in this novel?’
‘Hey, she might. Who knows. It sounds like everything could literally be connected from what you said about the corridors. You know, I’m willing to bet they’re where Eisenheim went when he disappeared. And where Gauthier walks.’
Trix still felt anxious whenever she heard the bad man’s name. Thoughts of him crept around her mind. Lingered in peripheral vision and skulked in every shadow. He was the worst monster Trix had ever fought. And she hadn’t been able to kill him.
‘Are you two just gonna stand there and talk, or will we start working?’ Serena said, pushing open the front door. It fell off its busted hinges with a sad whine, like a dog about to be put down after years of arthritic suffering.
Trix looked at the rising sun. It was enough for her to lock the memories of Gauthier away for the moment. Even the idea of having some of the galaxy’s most powerful assassins after her seemed inconsequential now.
‘I’m in no rush,’ said Trix. She went to help Serena anyway.
Valentine followed.
The rest of the Milky Way seemed distant on Zilvia as opposed to Mair Ultima’s isolation. As Trix began cleaning up the trash left behind by various vandals, she had a strange premonition that before this was over, Mair Ultima would see another great battle.
The images came thick and fast. Floodgates had been opened. Trix was swept away. All the remaining machinas marching into battle as one. Ready to kill. Ready to die. Ready to become the saviours they were made to be.
Trix’s eyes welled at the image. She saw thousands from all academies standing shoulder to shoulder. Onis at the front. Spectres at the flanks. Dragons at the back. They were all being led by a single person. She couldn’t see who it was.
Then, like a candle being snuffed by a gust, the image went dark.
Trix’s Uldarian prism glowed inside her armour compartment.
There was so much wonder to be found in the galaxy.
And now that she could return to Zilvia, Trix was relieved to know there was peace too, if only in one place.
If only for a while.
Epilogue
EARTH DATE: May 30th, 2799
1
People were resting their bones in Felix’s cabin for the first time in decades.
It had taken just shy of a month to rebuild everything the way it had been with hardwood panelling, stone feature walls, and an old-style chimney. Dying coals cooled in the fireplace. The house was quiet. Beer bottles littered the brand-new coffee table which Valentine had bought from the very same furniture shop that was totalled during Faedra de Morland’s attack. He’d actually furnished the entire cabin for a reasonable price thanks to a discount afforded by the Vredra family in return for Valentine saving their lives, and as an apology for hitting him with magic.
The only modern additions were the inclusion of new fusion cells, — the old ones had been pilfered — a computer terminal, and holographic panels attached to various furnishings. The fridge and the oven had also been replaced.
Valentine and Serena now slept in the room that had been Felix and Susan’s. Trix had taken up residence in her old room. She lay awake, listening to her friends’ breathing, looking out her window, towards Xifaw.
The last time she had been inside Felix’s cabin was during her time in the Riddling Arena. It had taken some effort to keep her cool during the initial days of renovations. She’d overcome her fears. She’d even ventured to Duskmere and spent time with Rida.
Trix had been disheartened by the way Duskmere had fallen apart. Time hadn’t been kind, but it had still been kinder than she had during the massacre.
Rida had taken Trix a short way into the desert to pick flowers. The day had been clear. It had been perfect.
2
Warm wind rolled off the Quenpoe Desert’s dunes.
Rida was dressed in a dusty old skirt with a button up, plaid cotton shirt. Her hair was done in plaited pigtails. Blue ribbons were tied at the ends. Trix had let Rida plait her hair before setting out too.
‘Aren’t you scared about coming into the desert by yourself?’ Trix said, watching depressions which could denote a variety of monsters lurking beneath the sand.
‘You can be real scared about a lotta things. You could be scared about getting outta bed. Then you’d never see anything. I could be scared of you.’
‘Lots of people are.’
‘Yeah, but if I’d been scared of you, I wouldn’t have made a new friend. Come on, the flowers always grow real nice just over here.’
Rida giggled then ran off, laughing as she descended a dune. Trix kept up easily. Saw that Rida hadn’t been lying. Beautiful flowers with thick, velvety petals grew among other sparse vegetation. Their colour was startlingly pink. Not a hint of red like the Zilvian roses which grew in the forest.
The girl plonked herself by a group of flowers. Began stroking their p
etals.
‘Trixie, come here, they’re so soft. See? Like a warm hug.’
Trix sat beside Rida. Touched the flowers. Sure enough, they were. She’d only ever seen the desert blossoms when she was young. Never actually touched them. She’d been too busy looking for bigger game.
Rida’s nose wrinkled. Let out a sniffle.
‘What’s wrong, little one?’ Trix said, putting her arm around Rida, astounded to hear how much her voice sounded like Susan’s.
‘They’re so pretty. Too pretty. I wanted to make flower crowns again. Now I can’t. I wanted to make you a crown, Trixie.’
‘Why can’t you make one?’
‘My mamma said that when flowers are pretty, you should leave them be so others can enjoy them too. Because if you pick them, they die.’
Rida started weeping. Trix embraced her, kissing her softly on the forehead. It was strange to see an old woman act like a child. Guilt rushed over Trix. It had been her actions that stunted Rida. Confined her to a child’s life forever.
‘Don’t cry, little one. I still have the crown you gave me after the knighting ceremony. And you know what? You already gave me the best present I could ask for.’
‘Really?’ Rida said.
‘You forgave me,’ said Trix, feeling tears behind her eyes despite the desert’s dryness. ‘You forgave me when I didn’t think anyone could. Please don’t be sad, little one.’
This brightened Rida’s face. She planted a big kiss on Trix’s cheek, giggling and sniffling all at once.
‘Okay, thanks Trixie. That makes me feel better.’
Rida wiped her eyes then lay back on the dune. It wasn’t too hot yet. This close to winter, you could lie on the sand until midday.
Trix lay beside her.
‘You live alone? Don’t you, little one?’
‘Yeah, but we all look after each other in Duskmere. We’re like a big family. Well, a little family. There ain’t many of us around no more.’
‘How do you afford to live?’
‘I have a job. I make dresses in Blor’daeyn. My boss says they’re real nice. That they have something to them. Something that can’t be seen, just felt, and that’s why people like em so much. I’m even the only human who works there.’