by Kyle West
Would you hear the bargain, Elekim?
You tricked me, I said.
I did no such thing. There was no guarantee of victory, Elekim. You yourself knew as much. But your sacrifice is not without merit. Askalon must now make concessions. Would you hear them?
I wanted to scream, but there was no such thing as screaming in this place. I could only listen. I could only find out just what my friends sacrifices bought us.
Askalon says thus, Elekim. Odium of the Dark is one of many hundreds of Minds under his thrall. Odium’s power, compared to Askalon’s, is but a raindrop compared to an ocean. His life means nothing, and your world means nothing. He is one among thousands, barely worth a thought.
And yet he has thought about it, I said, sensing a vulnerability. Earth defied Askalon, because of Alex. It’s defying him even now. As small as Earth is, as insignificant, it still stands. It still fights.
Ah, this is true, the Nameless One said, still interceding for Askalon. Askala was a new mind, weak in conception. Weak enough, perhaps, to be defeated by a pathetic human. Nonetheless, Earth is like a pebble in Askalon’s boot. Frustrating. Annoying. But easily removed once his mind is set to it.
What is the bargain, Nameless One? Perhaps my world means nothing to him, but the sacrifice of my friends cost me everything.
The battle on Earth still unfolded before me, perhaps to show me just how perilously close the planet was to defeat. A way, perhaps, for Askalon to gain additional leverage. I didn’t know whether this battle was happening in real time or was a vision of the future, or even of the past.
My bargain is this, Askalon said, through the Nameless One. Odium of the Dark dies, and his host with him. Your world gets four hundred more Earth years of peace.
I thought of his offer and wondered if I could even refuse it.
I didn’t come here to buy four hundred more years of peace, I said. I came here to end the Aberration. After everything I’ve gone through, everything I’ve sacrificed, how am I supposed to accept that?
The Aberration, the Nameless One said. The Aberration is beyond you, Elekim, beyond your scope. It is . . . a necessity. Did you not hear me say this before?
The battle continued before me. The crawlers were pushing into the cave, flanking the combined forces of Elekai, Eastern Kingdoms, and Novans that formed the final line, the latter seeming to have rejoined the coalition during my absence.
Time is on my side, Askalon said. All of this can end with just a word from you. Accept my offer; it is the best you will get.
I’ve been taught that one must never accept a first offer, I said. An old lesson from my father, and a truth so universal that I’ll risk it holding up even here. Maybe you can destroy me. Maybe you can make me join the Tree. I didn’t come all this way, to sacrifice so much, just for another four centuries of peace, especially when it means the final victory will go to you in the end. You said it yourself. My world to you is nothing. Odium to you is nothing, just a weak vessel, and one of many. I gave everything to be here. Absolutely everything. If we make a deal, then the deal must hurt you as much as it has hurt me.
There was a long silence, as my words were weighed and considered by both the Nameless One and Askalon. Somehow, I knew that neither could find fault with them.
You are in my power, Askalon rejoined. How dare you ask for more than what I offered you, as a token of mercy?
There is not a drop of mercy in your soul, Askalon, and you would not offer me anything if you had even a shred of power to end me right now.
To that, Askalon did not have an answer. Something greater was at work here. Something that was not being revealed to me.
One more offer, Askalon said, slowly, after a long moment. You must accept this offer, or I will be forced to destroy you. He waited an inordinately long time. Earth will never be attacked again. Odium will be destroyed once and for all.
I listened in shock, wondering if I’d heard it wrong. Wasn’t that everything I’d ever wanted, guaranteed by the impartiality of the Nameless One?
Immunity and safety for Earth is all I ever wanted and fought for, I said. But I don’t want my friends to suffer on the Tree. I don’t want anyone who has ever faced your trials to suffer any longer.
You would strip my Tree of its trophies? Askalon asked. This, I cannot do. I look upon my trophies when I need amusement. Some I’ve had for millennia. Those are my favorites. Resistant at first to the pain – they always are – and then they give themselves to it. At times I’ll refresh them, so that they can experience the pain anew as if they had never felt it before. I imagine my freeing them is worth much to you, yes? But in exchange for my trophies, your world cannot remain immune forever. A considering pause. How about ten thousand Earth years of peace?
Ten thousand years. Enough for many generations to be born and to die. Enough time, as well, for people to forget. Unless Shen somehow survived that entire time, shepherding humanity and readying it for the inevitable war. But what was one world against a galaxy that was being swallowed by the Radaskim? It would be ten millennia of freedom, but ten millennia to the Radaskim was as nothing.
I was merely moving the debt to an unknown future. It was the choice I should have made. It was the wisest choice. It was the best I was going to get while saving my friends from the eternal pain of the Tree.
But it wasn’t defeating the Radaskim once and for all. Could I accept anything less than that? I felt myself caving. Ten thousand years of guaranteed peace. How could the human mind even imagine such a far distant future? But to the Radaskim Minds, years were like days, and hours like seconds. Ten thousand years was a wait, yes, but enough to ensure their victory was absolute when the time for war came once again.
Could I betray the future to save the present? Was it possible for people to remember long enough to fight the future threat?
I didn’t see how it was possible. Four hundred years spanned the end of the Ragnarok War and the beginning of the second Radaskim invasion. If that was any indication, then there was no possible way for humanity to be prepared, not unless Shen survived into that future and retained all his memories of the past. Too many things could happen in that time. But on the dead world of Askalon, nothing changed. It had been this way for hundreds of thousands of years.
And nothing would ever change unless that change came to Askalon. When would another Elekim come to this world, one who would dare to fight Askalon for the future of not only their species, but for every form of life threatened by the Radaskim? Yes, I was wagering all of Earth. I was wagering my own suffering and the suffering of my friends, along with the suffering of every Elekim who had ever failed challenging Askalon. I was wagering literally everything.
But to take that chance of ultimate victory, I had to gamble everything.
This was the final test. To accept anything less than my original resolution was failure.
No, I said, finally. I refuse. The Radaskim must end. The Aberration must end. I will accept nothing less than that. I challenge you, Askalon. I challenge you, Nameless One. I will fight, even though I’m risking it all.
There was silence. I heard not a word from Askalon, or even from the Nameless One.
After what felt hours without an answer, the Nameless One returned.
This request goes beyond Askalon, he said. You have passed all the trials, and so win the right to fight for what you ask. You will be defeated, without doubt. But you have that right. He paused. Think carefully. There will be no turning back from this choice. Askalon’s best offer is ten thousand years of peace for Earth and stopping the suffering on the Tree. If you refuse this offer, then you win the right to challenge the Aberration itself.
I did not have to think carefully. For me, this was the only way forward. I exercise the right.
So be it.
Before I could question anything, the battle for Earth disappeared, and was replaced by an entirely different scene, the field of xen before the Tree. The vision rushed forward, until
I flew out of the black ichor sea and landed on my feet.
I was out of the Radaskim Xenofold, and back in reality.
Chapter 71
I quickly saw that I wasn’t alone. A girl, who could not have been much older than me, lay sprawled on the ground in front of me, dressed in pants and a dirty white T-shirt that seemed to come from a bygone era on Earth. The clothes were from Anna’s time. Her hair was black, her skin an olive complexion, and something about her sparked instant recognition.
I had known her in my previous life. But how could that be? What could she be doing here?
As I approached, she suddenly stirred on the ground, and spoke in English. “That was some trip.” She blinked and looked around, her hazel eyes settling on me. “Anna? What is this place?”
I held out a hand to help her up. Only when she took it, when I felt her weight, did I realize that she was real. “You’re . . . Makara. How . . . how are you here?”
She reached for her side, where a handgun was holstered, the very same she’d used all those years ago, except for the fact that it was shining with pink brilliance, as if it were made from the ichor of the sea. “I don’t know where here is. I was in the darkness, and then there was this light, so . . . I followed it.”
That explained little to nothing. “I thought you were . . . you know, dead. After you sacrificed yourself.”
“I thought I was dead, too. I just stopped . . . being, you know? I went to a dark place. Can’t really remember much.”
The only thing that was even remotely possible was that Makara had somehow been cast into the Xenomatrix. Maybe I had been the light she followed.
“Makara . . .” I began, hardly able to find the words. “How long were you in there? How much do you know?”
“Hard to say,” she said. “It felt like years.” She put a hand on my arm. “Listen. I think something big is about to happen. The Nameless One isn’t who you think he is.”
“What’s going on? I refused Askalon’s deal, and I found myself here. I don’t know what’s next.”
“A fight is next,” Makara said. “The final fight. Being inside the Xenomatrix, I got to see things you wouldn’t believe.”
“What things?”
Makara scanned around the Tree, her eyes finally falling on the bodies staked against it. Her eyes filled with shock, and then fear. “Are those . . .?”
I nodded. “Yeah. They’re all the ones who tried to stop Askalon. My . . . friends are up there, too.”
Her hazel eyes clouded with anger. “The Nameless One has his hand in this. He’s not from here, you know. I saw all of this where I was. Past, present, future. I was a part of his world, but he couldn’t do anything to snuff me out, for some reason. I saw how it all happened.”
“How what happened? The Aberration?”
Makara nodded. “He came down to the dragons on this planet, millions of years ago. Messed with their Xenofold. He’s the one who engineered the Aberration to begin with. He himself isn’t a dragon. At least, he wasn’t at first. He was . . . something else. A demigod, maybe, but definitely a form of life with extraordinary abilities.”
“Who is he, then? What was his reason for messing with the Xenofold here?”
“Some of those answers aren’t clear. The Nameless One did something to the original Xenofold – this Xenofold – and split it right in half. It was just the Elekai before, but the Aberration split the two sides. And the Radaskim were born.”
“Wait,” I said. “He is the one who started the Radaskim?”
Makara nodded. “Yes. And that creation resulted in the Eternal War. Askalon fell to the Radaskim, and from there, they have spread, infecting more worlds, adding more conscious power to the Xenomatrix. An endless cycle that will grow and fester until all is absorbed. The two sides balance each other, creating the Xenomatrix.”
That explained some of it, but it still didn’t make sense to me. “But . . . why?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “We can ask him ourselves. He’ll be here, soon.”
* * *
We waited a few more minutes before I saw movement from the sea. I put a hand on the hilt of my sword while Makara reached for her handgun. What surprised me was that whatever was coming out looked like a person. But as it shed the black ichor of the sea, I saw that it wasn’t human at all, even if it did walk on two legs.
Like us, it had two eyes, though they were narrow, vertical slits and completely red. Its face was blue and scaly, while its forehead rose in three prominent points that jutted outward, the outer two longer than the one in the center. Its brow ridge also protruded almost comically far, and its head seemed overly large. For all of this, it was much taller than a human – probably eight feet, and its form was long and lanky. It carried a black quarterstaff and wore long white robes. It had no nose that I could see, but it may have just not been as prominent as a human one. Its feet were wide and webbed, but its fingers were humanlike, though longer than ours. Several short tentacles hung below its mouth, which quivered as he spoke, in perfect English, with a deep voiced filled with various harmonies, lending it an eerie quality.
“Surprised at my true form, Elekim?”
“You’re him?” I asked. “The Nameless One?”
“Yes,” he said. “I am the one you are to face.” Its mouth stretched horizontally, in what might have been a smile, but it only made me feel cold. “I’ve had many names over the eons, but when I ascended, I no longer had need for one.”
“Makara was telling me a bit about you,” I said, “but we don’t know everything.”
The tall being leaned on his staff, his red eyes glinting. Whether he was curious, malicious, or sizing us up, was impossible to say. He seemed to have no facial expressions to speak of, and yet I got the feeling that maybe I should hear him out. If “him” was even the right word.
“I am the last of what was called the Zalman race,” he said. “I came to Askalon after a psychic calamity ended my kind. Only the Xenofold kept me safe from it.”
“Psychic calamity?” I asked.
“How to explain it to you?” the Nameless One asked. “It was something like a mental disease. A horror that caused my people to go mad. They uncovered secrets best remained hidden. As far as I know, I’m the only one to have escaped, by becoming a part of the Xenofold itself. In return for allowing me to join them, I gifted the dragons with the knowledge and wisdom of my people.”
“And you created the Aberration,” I said.
“I did,” the Nameless One said, the harmonies in his voice becoming more tense. “It had to be done.”
“But you created the Radaskim,” I said. “Why would you betray the Elekai, the ones who saved you? What were you trying to gain?”
“To gain? Safety. For the universe. For myself.”
“You have a strange definition of safety,” I said, nodding toward the Tree. “How many have you killed?”
“That is Askalon’s doing, not mine,” the Nameless One said. “It is evil, yes. But evil is necessary to balance good. Without that balance, each would exist in a vacuum, meaningless. Meaninglessness is what I fight against.”
“Why?” I asked. “For balance?”
“I will do my best to explain,” the Nameless One said. “Because the Elekai were content here on Askalon, they had no desire to spread their kind among the stars. But as powerful as the Xenofold here was, it was not large enough by far to give me the answers I sought. For that, I needed more worlds.”
“So, you created the Radaskim,” Makara said. “Who wanted to expand.”
“Precisely,” the Nameless One said. “Though the Radaskim took control of the Tree, the central nexus, the Elekai could never fully die out. The war, the struggle, between the two was a necessary factor to the expansion of the Xenomatrix. With every world added, it grew stronger, more capable.”
“Giving you power,” I said. “How many millions have died because of your actions?”
“Over the span of my life?�
� He paused, seeming to think about it. “Countless millions, I’m sure. But power for its own sake was never my aim.”
“Then what do you want?” I asked.
“To save the universe. Who is to save existence from winking out, to stop the stars from dying? That is the only question that matters to me. Immortality is not immortality, Elekim, until we can learn to save ourselves from the Rip.”
“What are you talking about?”
“The universe itself will die, billions upon billions of years from now. We must prepare for it now, Elekim, before it is too late.”
“Or we can just accept it,” Makara said, stepping in. “That’s your problem, isn’t it? You can accept death and torture for others, but not for yourself.”
The Nameless One’s red eyes blinked. “It’s not a problem, Makara Neth. It’s inevitability. My people are different from yours. We have different drives. Different goals. Different ways of viewing the universe. The greatest evil to us is nonexistence. Being, consciousness, are the only goods. Nonexistence, non-knowing, and non-being are what we are to fight against with all our souls. Anything that can stop those things is considered good.” He paused. “Humanity, on the other hand, along with so many other races, believe the things I’ve done and the things I plan to keep doing are evil. On this point we can never agree.”
“So, it’s to be a fight, then,” I said, unsheathing my blade. To my surprise, like Makara’s gun, my blade shimmered pink, casting an aura of light.
“Yes,” the Nameless One said. “When the dragons gave me the gift of the Xenofold, I recreated it, over many years. You’ve made it this far because you’ve played by its rules. The questions of morality presented to you, the choices you made, are all the things a true son or daughter of the Zalman race would have chosen. It is why no other Elekim has been able to challenge me directly, as you have.” He gave that unsettling, snakelike blink again. “You have one more test, Elekim. There is only one way to defeat me, ultimately.”