Aberration

by Kyle West

  Shara still had enough self-possession to voice her concerns.

  I don’t know, I thought. It just is.

  Without consciously meaning to, all of us had formed a bond and were of a single mind. Their thoughts and emotions became mine, and mine theirs. In the shared stream of consciousness, there were still eddies of our individual personalities beneath. Whether we willed it or not, this was beyond all of us now. There was nothing left but to go forward.

  The Sea pulled us toward its center, away from the dragons and their collective trance. I sensed a presence out in the Sea, a presence which was unmistakable. As we neared it, Tiamat himself was pulled by our mutual gravity, his power joining ours until it seemed the entire Xenofold sang around us.

  We knew you were coming, he said. It’s almost time.

  The current of the Sea pulled us away from the shoreline, faster and faster, the liquid seeming to congeal beneath us to a consistency thicker than water, causing us all to float on top of it. It brought us forward at an alarmingly fast rate, until the shoreline itself was lost to the luminescence cast by the Sea.

  What do we do, Tiamat? I asked. How do we make the journey?

  I’ve delved deeply into the Xenofold, to the dark corners where it frays and connects to the Xenomatrix. I . . . nearly died in the attempt. I remember the way. Most of the way. But there will come a point where I will no longer know what to do. The rest will be up to you.

  What happens if we get lost? I asked.

  Tiamat was quiet for a time, and that quiet filled me with foreboding. Only pray that doesn’t happen, Elekim. You’re nearly there. Prepare yourselves! There’s no turning back now.

  My friends hadn’t even gotten the chance to make a final choice, but, reading their thoughts, they had already made that choice as far as they were concerned. I had never felt a bond this powerful; along with Tiamat, we were six souls melded into one.

  It was so bright now that we could no longer see. We were pulled, falling into sheer nothingness. A great roar was the only sensation, rising and rising. It rose until there was nothing.

  * * *

  When we woke – if woke could even be the right word, since we were no longer anywhere physical – we floated in a world of endless black, separated by hanging silver spheres connected by glittering streams. The streams flowed inward – and outward – simultaneously into other spheres, which extended as far as could be seen in every direction. Though only thousands were in our view, I knew that there were millions more – even billions, an entire galaxy of spheres making up the inner mind of the Xenofold. Some of the irregularly-shaped ones in the distance couldn’t have been single spheres, but clusters of them.

  It went on seemingly forever, and new ones at the edge of consciousness were forming all the time, as the Xenofold grew.

  We floated within a single point of light, just one among millions upon millions. Somehow, I knew that we had to find the right sphere that would lead us to the far world of Askalon. A seemingly impossible task.

  But Tiamat had done most of the searching already. As he had said, the rest would be up to us.

  Follow me, he said.

  I wasn’t sure how to follow him, but I sensed him zooming along a strand right in front of us. I latched onto him, along with the others, until we were speeding along the strands so quickly that they bled into one another. As we reached each new sphere, we bounced off in the direction Tiamat had gone, until we had left our starting position far behind.

  Generally, though, we were heading on a trajectory down. In this place, there really wasn’t a down. It was only down relative to the direction we had been facing at first. Still, the effects of heading downward were like what one might expect in a cave. The darkness deepened, while the nodes glowed less brightly. Somehow, I knew we were heading out from the center, toward the darker and wilder fringes of the Xenofold’s inner workings.

  We’re in a damaged portion of the Xenofold, Tiamat said. It will be years before this section is healed.

  I noticed that many of the nodes, though not all, had winked out, and that broken connections waved in the darkness like tentacles.

  Is it dangerous? Shara asked.

  Very dangerous, Tiamat said. I’ve explored down here already. Just follow me and you’ll be fine.

  We did just that. Our progress slowed as we descended further into the darkness, toward the black void deeper than a starless midnight. That darkness seemed to swallow any and all light, so that we could barely see far enough to the next node. But Tiamat did not hesitate, quickly choosing each successive path as we went further down, having mapped everything previously. Such was how he had spent the weeks since our first conversation down here.

  Time passed, and it was impossible to tell just how much time. It didn’t exist in this place in the same way as the outside world – the outside world which was fast becoming a fading memory. As we threaded our way through the darkness, I tried to remind myself of the world above. The darkness pressed in close, as if we were at the bottom of the sea, so far down that no light could reach it. Tendrils of blackness probed at dully shining spheres, though those tendrils were quickly pushed back. If we went any further down, the darkness might start winning. Wherever our stop was, I hoped it wasn’t far.

  No one spoke for a long while. We were slowing down, now, Tiamat even pausing at each node to consider the next step.

  It becomes more difficult to remember the further down we go, he said.

  I’m beginning to forget why we’re here in the first place, Isa said.

  To find the Bridge, Shara said. The way she said that suggested “the Bridge” was a proper place. A Bridge across the dark void, the Bridge from one world to another.

  We’re getting closer, Tiamat said. Follow. I’m beginning to remember.

  As we went further down, we couldn’t see the light of the nodes until we were literally within them, and their volume was punctured by tendrils of darkness. Some of the orbs we passed through were in the process of disintegrating, while others had been split clean in half. Every time we passed through these obstructions, my sense of dread only increased.

  It’s much worse than last time, Tiamat said. I’m afraid it might be gone.

  Should we turn back? Fiona asked.

  We’ve come too far, Tiamat said. Something senses our presence down here, in these dark places. It actively works against us.

  Odium? Isaru asked.

  No, Tiamat said. Something far worse, far more ancient. There are entities that travel the Void Between Worlds, too large, too powerful, to be contained in the world above, or even by a Xenofold. Their power grows in these depths, feeding off darkness. Nothing can stop these nameless, forgotten horrors. They can only be outrun.

  And one of these . . . entities . . . could be chasing us now? I asked.

  I don’t know, Tiamat said. I do not wish to find out.

  He continued moving, and for the first time, our path took us through nodes that had completely winked out of existence. We didn’t linger long in these. But as the darkness deepened, the amount of frayed connections increased, meaning we had to go further out of our way to find an unbroken path.

  Eventually, there was barely any light at all, naught but what we could immediately see a few feet in front of us. And, I suspected, even that light would be gone soon, too.

  We traveled slowly along a long, silvery thread – either the thread was incredibly long, or it only seemed so since we had slowed down so much. Or perhaps it was the space between each node that was growing, as if the darkness itself were expanding. Whatever the case, it took many hours to bridge that final gap, until we reached a terminus that had no more connections.

  We are here, Tiamat said. This node exists in two places at once – your world, and Askalon, the Dragons’ homeworld. The birthplace of the Aberration. This is where the transition must be made between this world and that one.

  How is it done? I asked.

  Reach for Askalon’s Xen
ofold, he said. This Xenofold is under the control of the Radaskim: it will know you as soon as you touch it, even if it doesn’t know you’re here yet, at the gateway. But you are Elekim; even if the others don’t survive the transition, you will. At least at first. I cannot guarantee safe passage for everyone else.

  I felt the others’ fear at those words, and that fear was intermixed with my own. Now that we were here, I found my resolve wavering. I didn’t want to be the one to kill my friends. Yes, they had chosen to come here of their own volition, but as soon as I pulled the trigger, I’d be placing all their lives at risk.

  I’m ready, Isaru said. I’m adding my power to yours, Shanti.

  As am I, Fiona said.

  Whatever happens, Shara said, it has been an honor, my friend. I’m ready for anything.

  I didn’t think she was, because even I wasn’t ready for anything.

  All of us are ready, Isa said. Everyone is depending on us. Do it for them, Shanti.

  When you reach, Tiamat said, it will know. It seeks us now and will find us soon. Try to do it quickly.

  What about you, Tiamat?

  Silence. I knew the answer already.

  Xenofold willing, my parents will find me, even in this dark place, and pull me out before the darkness consumes me. But I will never breathe the free air again. Go, Elekim! Use all your power, and the power of your friends. There’s no time!

  With those words, I sensed Tiamat’s urgency. Even I could feel whatever was chasing us in the darkness. It would be here soon.

  I reached.

  Chapter 59

  All became chaos and darkness. The dull light of the sphere warped and shifted, until we became darkness, stretched across lightyears of space and time. I reached for a light I couldn’t even see yet. My friends held onto me with their own connections, each like a piece of twine against the power of a maelstrom.

  The Aberration comes, Tiamat said, his voice fading. There was silence for a moment, before a high shriek pierced my mind.

  Tiamat’s dying scream.

  All of us waited in the darkness, for whatever it was, to come.

  But we waited for an eternity. An eternity of fear, an eternity of dread, an eternity of torturous thoughts. Days passed. Then what had to be weeks. Soon, I lost all sense of time. There was only maddening darkness and silence.

  My mind shut off after a certain point, fading in and out of time and existence. At times I could see the others, feel the others, until the memory of existence itself seemed like a dream. Even the dread and the darkness dissipated and could no longer be perceived fully.

  I lived thousands of lifetimes, dreamed thousands of dreams, some which I knew to be real, and others, fantasies. I saw worlds rise and fall, saw realities of what might have been. I saw the universe at its birth, and as it would be at its dark end. There were times I was deludingly happy, where I felt more lucid than I ever had in my old life, which by now was only one dream among many. Nothing could be trusted in this madness. I knew nothing to be real.

  One dream kept visiting me, of five floating lights. As long as one of those lights remained, I somehow knew that the eternity would end someday. The purpose for this purgatory, which I had long forgotten, would bear fruit. Many times, only one light would remain, but right before that light winked out, another rose to take its place.

  One light, more than many of the others, remained steadfast. It was fighting against the darkness, and it was this light alone that kept me with a semblance of sanity. The entire darkness focused its intent on absorbing the light.

  After a time, I knew it to be countless years, a voice called for the first time in the darkness. It spoke to me, beguiled me, made me remember who I was. I felt as if I were going to be born for the first time. That this long journey would end at last. One by one, my memories returned to me. I was being allowed to remember what the darkness had made me forget.

  The voice spoke.

  You are here.

  Those words were so shocking that I couldn’t find my voice.

  I never expected you to make it this far, the voice continued. But your journey must come to an end. You must give in to the darkness. The voice became sad. How many years must you suffer?

  I reached deep down, in the place my words had long been buried.

  Who are you?

  There was silence for a long time. Months, maybe even years, of silence. I forgot the voice had ever been and fell back into madness and dreams.

  It was a long time before the voice returned.

  You were not ready for me. But you may be ready now. One hundred Earth years have passed since last you heard me. You fight the darkness. Have you seen the lights lately? Aren’t you afraid you’re the only one left fighting?

  Yes, joining the darkness did sound good. Perhaps that was the only good. How much more of me was left to fight? Who was this voice talking to? Nothing but the darkness, nothing but the wind . . .

  Yes, it whispered. Let go. Can you even name what you’re holding onto?

  I couldn’t. The voice went away again. More years passed, until every moment stretched into decades. I could no longer feel the weight of the years. Something intangible kept complete madness at bay, though I couldn’t say what it was.

  Earth has long been dead, the voice said, returning. Earth is his, now.

  Earth. What was that place? I felt as if I should know it. And yet, it sparked no memory. The very thing that was supposed to give me hope, no longer was.

  Who are you? I asked. It was the second time for me to ask this question, and like last time, the voice went away as soon as I had asked it.

  No! I screamed. Wait! Don’t leave me here . . .

  Then came the worst times. Nothing but tortures and torments, where even the succor of madness couldn’t claim me. I had dreams where all five of the lights went out, which I knew to be tricks to get me to give up. I still didn’t know what I was holding on to. I just knew I was holding on. I just knew it was important.

  If I didn’t have that, I would have nothing.

  I passed through heaven and hell, all but one drop of my sanity leaving me. I chased every ghost that ever was, every pain, every happiness, addicted to anything that might make me feel, even if that feeling was pure torture. For countless years, I sought the voice, the only thing I had ever known in this place to be real. It, and the lights.

  But it was gone. After an eternity, I was beginning to admit the truth. This was forever. And the voice had gone for good.

  For some reason, though, I continued to hold on. Holding on against this onslaught was important. It was the only thing I had left, and I resolved that even the darkness wouldn’t take it.

  * * *

  You are here.

  I opened my eyes. I had a body. I could feel things. The cool air. The soft breeze. The warmth of a yellow sun. The aroma of flowers and plants and trees, of birdsong.

  These things weren’t phantasms. They were real.

  I lay there for hours, then days, soaking in the sensation. I could have stayed for an eternity, for I had already faced eternity and come out the other side. But thirst moved me, along with hunger.

  On shaky legs, I stood, stark naked in the cool breeze. I looked for something to eat.

  I found my friends in a nearby grove of fruit trees, all of them naked and none of us caring about the fact. I sat down and began to eat until my stomach was near to bursting. There we sat for untold hours, from sunrise till sunset, while the stars wheeled above, none of us speaking, none of us budging from our spots, none of us remembering words. The weight of eternity was still on all our minds, making any action, besides those necessary for survival, completely impossible. We ate, we drank, and the years passed. We wasted away with time, became old, died. I was the last one left, watching the friends I no longer knew, watching until their bodies became food for the worms, until naught but skeletons were left.

  Then I, too, laid down and died. And the next thing that came was darkness.
>
  That reality, too, had only been a dream.

  * * *

  I returned to the cold, familiar embrace of darkness. The darkness was my shield. The darkness was my life. It was a cocoon from which I would never break to see the light of day.

  I wanted nothing more than the darkness.

  You are ready.

  The one I thought would never return. The voice in the void.

  Ready for what?

  To fly.

  What must I do?

  Simple words, which you must mean with all your heart.

  Was there any heart with which to say anything? The voice seemed to think so, even if I wasn’t so sure.

  What are the words? I asked.

  I needed to know the words. I needed to fly.

  I’m ready for this to end. A pause. Say these words, and it shall be done.

  Something tickled at my memory, but the remembrance was gone almost as soon as it had surfaced. All I remembered was my old resolution, in the previous eternity. To never give up what I had left. To hold sacred the only thing that was still mine.

  My resolve. My will to fight, no matter the odds.

  The darkness swirled around me, dimming my thoughts and making me forget everything. A vision of my former life came to mind, a life so short that it had been a breath compared to this dark eternity. What was that life, what was it worth?

  Say the words, the voice whispered. And it will all be over.

  I formed the words in my mind and was about to utter them. But they reviled me. No matter how much I wished to say them, I couldn’t bring myself to do it.

  No.

  The voice was not mine, but someone else’s. It was the first time I’d heard anyone other than myself and the voice in this place.

  No, came another voice.

  And then, the rest.

  No.

  No.

  The five lights. But only four of them had spoken. What of the fifth one? When would it speak?

  Then realization dawned on me. I was the fifth light. And at that realization, I knew just who I was talking to.