by Kyle West
“It is irreversible,” he said. “Besides, how is that in my interest?”
“If you refuse, we will force you to do it.”
At this, Isa and I both stood and reached for our swords. Valance looked from one of us to the other, and then chuckled. The other Hunters returned and withdrew their own blades.
“Now,” I said.
Isa and I fell upon the two Hunters, Isa taking the left one while I fought the right. They were pushovers. This place and these people weren’t real, so I held nothing back, caring nothing for preserving their lives when I knew they didn’t even exist in the first place. But killing the Hunter still felt real as my blade met his neck and quickly brought him down to the sand. I joined Isa’s fight, who was only barely holding off the bigger man. I killed him quickly before he could do any harm.
When we turned back to face Valance, he was standing with blade in hand. But Shara was standing, too, her eyes glowing like green fire as she unsheathed her own sword.
“Walk away,” Valance said. “I have no doubt you can kill me, but your friend will die, too. I’ll make you a deal.”
“Not interested,” I said.
Valance pressed on all the same. “You haven’t even listened.”
“I don’t care,” I said.
“Listen!” Valance said, with a hiss. “And listen well. You can’t just . . . kill and expect everything to come out your way.” He smiled. “Oh, no. It won’t be that easy.”
Shara’s eyes stared at me balefully, as if in confirmation of those words. Even if Valance died, Shara was still being transformed by the Aether she had ingested. Killing Valance would not stop that.
“What do you want, Elekim?” Valance asked.
“I want my friend back,” I said. “And I want to pass the trial.”
“Ah,” Valance said, with a superior smirk. “That’s the rub, isn’t it? Those things are mutually exclusive.”
“Not as I see it.”
“But it’s not just as you see it. Is it?”
“Just cut to the chase.”
Valance sheathed his sword, as if secure in the fact that I wouldn’t cut him down. I briefly considered doing just that before sheathing my own blade.
“What are you willing to give up, Elekim?” Valance asked. “Your own life?”
“Of course,” I said. “I would die a thousand times to end the Aberration and the Radaskim.”
“I don’t doubt it,” Valance said, “for I can read your heart. But dying is easy, isn’t it? At least when compared to some things. But it’s not so easy when you must give up other people’s lives, other people’s agency of choice, for your own ends. To give up that, and to live with the guilt of your choice . . .” Valance closed his eyes. “Now that’s sublime. That’s the kind of choice that gladdens the heart of Askalon. That might be just enough to get you through to the next trial. Killing me, however?” Valance chuckled. “That’s just boring.”
“Askalon,” I said. “You mean the Aberration.”
Valance nodded. “Askalon. He runs the show here. This planet, over time, has become his entire mind.” Valance’s blue eyes narrowed. “And this world hates your guts. I feel that hatred now, staring at you. You are a perversion in this place, allowed to be here by a power outside of our control.”
“The Nameless One,” I said.
Valance nodded. “The trial must commence, by his rules. If we don’t allow it, we stand to lose too much. So, we tolerate him. Thus, I will tell you the bargain he’s made you, Elekim. You may pass this trial, so long as you give her up to me.”
“Never.”
Valance scowled. “I . . . thought you might say that. But it is the only way forward. In the last trial, you were willing to risk your own life, to even die and go through pain, to rescue your friend.”
“And I would so again.”
“Of course,” Valance said. “But . . . the Nameless One would test you in another way. This is no trick. The Nameless One, the Arbiter of Ages himself, guarantees that you will pass on if you hand over Shara.”
“I can’t give up my friend,” I said. “I simply can’t. Is that really the test? To sacrifice my own friend without her say in it? To let you have her?”
“That is the test,” Valance said. “What will it be, then?”
Isa leaned over. “Why not just try to kill him?”
Valance responded to her. Despite the quietness of her voice, he’d heard clearly. “That would not be wise, Isa Arnor. I’m Shara’s anchor. Kill me, she becomes Mindless.”
Valance gestured toward the right, where a vertical line of light appeared. The line widened until it had formed an arch, revealing a long, white bridge sloping upward over a pink sea of ichor, which seemed to go on for miles. At the end of the bridge I could see a black tower.
“That’s the exit,” Valance said. “Sometimes, the hardest thing to do is nothing at all.”
I couldn’t believe that this was the test. It wasn’t fair. How could I decide someone else’s life was worthy of sacrifice? That choice should have been theirs, not mine. I could never do it.
But then again, wasn’t that the point, the cruelty of the choice? I had no doubt that if Shara were here, she would assent to it. But she wasn’t here – not the real her, anyway – and if she wasn’t here, then how could I live with that decision?
“I don’t know what to do,” I said. “What happens if I give her up?”
“I’d be happy to tell you,” Valance said, his cruel smile widening. “She would forever be a slave of this place.”
“Not if I win,” I said. “Not if I stop Askalon.”
Valance chuckled. “She will join you on the Tree for all eternity if you lose any of the trials. And you will lose, because no one has ever reached Askalon. If you choose to give her up, and pass the trial, you and your friend get to go on to the next one. And Shara goes to the Tree, to begin her long torture.”
So, that was what I’d consign her to? An eternity of hell?
“And if I refuse to go on?”
“Then you would make the easier choice,” Valance said. “All of this ends. No one goes to the Tree. The terms are vouchsafed by the Nameless One himself.”
“But . . . what happens to us?”
Valance shrugged. “Nothing at all. You would simply . . . cease to be. No pain.”
“And Earth would die,” I said.
“This can’t be the trial,” Isa said. “It’s not fair!”
“The cost is high,” Valance agreed. “In the forest, Shanti had to go through great pain and bloodletting to be deemed worthy enough to pass on to the next, much harder trial. This is the price if you want to go on. Shara must be given to Askalon.” Valance shrugged. “Or, you can elect to end things now. Admit defeat, and no one gets hurt.”
Tears streamed from my eyes, as much from anger as from sorrow. “How can I be expected to make such a horrible decision? You’re asking me to sacrifice my friend for just a chance to meet Askalon. It guarantees nothing.”
“It is the choice,” Valance said. “Decide. Did you really think it would be as simple as defeating me in combat? Go ahead. Try. Test your mettle against me.”
I screamed, and decided to do just that, entering Flameform for maximum aggression. I unleashed a flurry of strikes against Valance, but it was not the same Valance I’d faced back on Earth. He parried and dodged my blows with ease, moving in impossible contortions to avoid my blade. He beat me back and kicked my torso, sending me spiraling toward the sand with inhuman strength. Isa joined me in what became a suicide attack, both of us wailing on him from different sides. But it was the same story. Valance toyed with us nonchalantly, fighting me with his blade while he twisted out of reach of Isa’s, using his other hand to twist her arm and disarm her. Something snapped, and she yelped in pain as she was forced back. With both of us dealt with, Valance returned his full attention to me.
“It’s futile. And you won’t get another chance from me. The Nameless One awa
its your decision. That door will get smaller every minute until it’s too small for you to step through.”
I turned to the door and saw that he was right. The door had shrunk, almost imperceptibly, and through its plane I could see the ocean of pink and the long, white bridge leading to the black tower. It would be gone within the next minute at the rate it was closing.
“Not much time,” Valance said. “What’ll it be?”
“You’re wasting your breath,” I said.
“And you’re wasting your time,” Valance replied.
“Shanti?” Isa asked nervously, holding her maimed arm.
I wiped the tears from my eyes. I knew what I had to do. But the other option was tempting, too. Sweet oblivion for all of us, no more pain for me or my friends, if I just said the word. In a way, that would be the responsible choice besides this forced betrayal. The odds of defeating Askalon were slim to none, and to even get that chance, I had to consign my best friend to a fate worse than death. Even if I ended up passing the next trials, there was no guarantee that I might save her from even that.
Shara stared at me, still not herself, still unable to make the choice. I screamed in frustration. The door was already halfway closed.
“Isa,” I said. “Go to the door. Now.”
“This can’t be it,” Isa said. “There has to be another way . . .”
“There isn’t another way! Get in there, right now! Wait for me on the other side.”
Isa glanced at Shara one more time. Isa was crying herself, now. But she went, and I felt a small measure of relief. When she passed through, the door snapped, becoming much smaller. I’d have to squeeze through, now.
“I’m sorry, Shara,” I said. “I’ll save you. I’ll . . .”
There was no time for more words. I turned and ran, diving for the door. It was too small, now. I wasn’t going to make it.
But somehow, I slipped through. The last thing I heard was the cackle of Valance’s laughter.
Chapter 67
The portal winked out of existence as I landed on the rocky ground beneath. I just laid there, unable to do anything as wave after wave of grief and rage washed over me. Then, the sobs tore out of me, each new heaving bringing no relief from what I’d done.
Isa was no comfort, either. She was sitting on a rock nearby, nursing her arm with a look of betrayal on her face, after realizing Shara wasn’t with me. She didn’t even seem to realize that her arm was straight now, completely healed, just as I had been healed during the last transition. Those blue eyes seemed to see a different person. To be judging me.
It was more than I could stand. “What would you have done?”
She stared back at me, her eyes like ice. “I don’t know. Not that. Never that.”
I stood up. “There was no other way, Isa. Don’t you see that?”
She stared at the ground. “She was your best friend. If you were willing to . . . to . . .”
“To what?” I asked, my voice cracking. “To give her a fate worse than death, just for a chance to end this? Yes, I made that choice. I must live with it for the rest of my short, miserable life. Don’t you think I would have done anything else, had there been a choice?”
“There was another choice,” Isa said. “I know there was.”
Even if Isa was only a couple of years younger than me, that showed everything in the difference between us. She was still so naïve, sometimes. “Don’t you see this place is trying to prove that we’re monsters, too? That we must become monsters to achieve our goals?”
I realized then that I had touched on it. Was this how the path started, then? If you were willing to sacrifice your best friend for the salvation of all, then what wouldn’t you sacrifice?
Almost anything. To not sacrifice anything else after making such a decision would be to make the original sacrifice meaningless.
“If that was her, then what about me?” Isa said. “If you had to make a choice . . .”
“Don’t ask me that,” I said. “Not after what just happened. How dare you?”
Isa stood. “I think I already know the answer.” Before I could protest, she nodded toward the bridge. “We should get moving. Face whatever trial is next in this hell.”
Rather than defend myself, I resigned myself to accepting the beratement. She just didn’t understand. Maybe she would have made that choice differently, and I didn’t fault her for it. She would have let Earth fall to the Radaskim rather than betray her principles.
“We’re getting closer,” I said, thankful to change the subject. “I can feel it.”
It was a while before Isa responded, as if responding to me taxed her very soul. “Let’s pray that it’s worth it.”
* * *
We walked in silence along the bridge, which rose at a slight angle, bringing us further and further above the pink sea below. We’d been walking for well over an hour, and the tower had only grown a little larger. It was much farther than I’d originally thought. The bridge seemed to enter the tower about halfway up. The crown of the edifice was barely discernible, coming to a wicked point.
The silence between us was icy. Whatever bond we had once shared seemed to be forever broken. This was exactly the reason why I hadn’t wanted them to come here. They had been ready to die, but none of them had been ready for this. Even now, Shara was paying for it on the Tree, through the choice I’d made.
But I didn’t want to tell her as much. It would be a waste. We would be in that tower in another hour, and I didn’t want to further ruin what was already in shambles.
To my surprise, though, it was Isa who broke the silence.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
I wasn’t sure how to respond to her. How to justify myself. “I didn’t know it would be like this, Isa. I would have never let any of you come. Never. Even now, the thought of her . . .”
An image of Shara screaming in agony came to mind, so visceral and immediate that I knew it had to be real. A way for Askalon to gloat, perhaps, that my “victory” of passing the trial was no victory at all. I tried to push the thought from my mind, but it still clung on stubbornly.
“You didn’t know,” Isa said, quietly. “It wasn’t the choice I would have made, to be clear. I understand why you made it, but I’ll be honest. I think it was a mistake.” She paused. “I still bear the responsibility for being here, even if I didn’t know what I was getting into.”
“I tried to warn you,” I said. “I tried to warn all of you . . .”
“I know,” Isa said. “You were right. I admit that, now.”
Being “right” was little solace. Nothing could give me solace now, except maybe vengeance on the ones who had caused all this suffering. Askalon himself, the Aberration, the Nameless One . . . whoever happened to be responsible.
“We’ll be there, soon,” I said. “I would say get ready, but . . .”
“I was just thinking,” Isa broke in. “If that was the last trial, then what will this one be like? Valance was hinting that they would get harder and harder.”
“Nothing can be harder than what I just had to do.”
Isa didn’t have an answer for me as we approached the tower. Just minutes away, a thunderous boom reverberated toward us. Slowly, a gate creaked upward at the entrance, revealing a dark, cavernous maw within. The gate was still rising by the time we passed through. Once inside, the gate began to reverse, creaking back downward.
A wide set of curving stone steps led upward, and the dimness was only slightly pushed back by blazing sconces. We climbed those stairs, Isa giving a little jump as the closing of the gate boomed from behind.
“This place gives me the creeps,” she said.
“I feel a lot of pain here,” I said. “And sadness. A lot of paths have ended here.”
She looked at me. “How can you know that?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “I can just feel their cries in the air, like echoes. As if all this had happened just moments ago. As if I was there to hear it.�
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She didn’t ask more as we continued our ascent. I knew, if I wanted, I could watch those deaths happen, just as Askalon had shown me Shara. But I couldn’t do that. I pushed it far from my mind. The stairs continued to circle round and round. There was nothing but torches and more steps, thousands of them, as we kept rising and rising. We didn’t tire in this place, and I never grew short of breath.
After an hour or two, it was hard to say, the stairs came to an end before a pair of stone doors. Isa and I looked at each other, neither of us wanting to touch them. Somehow, we both knew that the trial lay beyond it.
But we had to do it. We’d come too far, and even now, Shara was paying for the choice I’d made. Every moment we tarried was another moment she spent in pain with no chance of rescue.
“Whatever’s waiting for us is beyond these doors,” I said.
Isa nodded. “I know.”
We just stood there a minute, neither of us knowing what to do.
“I’m sorry for the person I’ve become,” I said. “It was the only way. I know you would have done differently. But as long as there’s a chance . . .”
Isa nodded, and then opened the doors herself.
Chapter 68
Isaru knelt on one knee with his eyes closed in the center of the circular room before us, not moving as we entered. A shining aura surrounded him. I somehow knew it was a shield keeping him in place.
The doors behind suddenly slammed shut, locking us in. There was no indication of what the trial itself might be, but already I felt my heart beginning to palpitate. A small, square-shaped part of the floor behind Isaru began to rise, the obsidian making an unpleasant grating sound as a pedestal was revealed. Resting on the top of the pedestal was a wicked, curved black blade, made from the same material as the tower itself. The pedestal came to a standstill, the knife at about chest level.
The field surrounding Isaru dissipated. He opened his eyes and blinked.
Isa threw herself at him, sobbing into his shoulder. Isaru’s body softened as he held her close.
“Where are we?” he asked. “What’s happened?”