by Kyle West
There was no time to take in the sight, though, and quite the sight it was. As I ran forward, Shara came to greet me, helping me back to the battle line.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m so sorry for what I did.”
I didn’t understand how she was still here, how all of them were still here. They must have all been sent to the Tree after they died within the trials.
“None of that, now,” Shara said. She looked back at the others. “Can we do anything for her?”
The bear came forward, and with a tenderness that belied his size, it took my arm and my pain melted completely away. From its palm, a pink liquid seemed to ooze out.
Ichor, I thought. It’s bleeding ichor.
The ichor was absorbed by my arm, which now felt warm as a curious itching set deep inside my broken bone. Others gathered round to watch, murmuring in alien tongues. Some, I noticed, didn’t even have mouths to speak.
The bear stepped back, and once more, I could move my arm as good as new. Somehow, this creature had been able to direct the flow of the ichor. It seemed to come from the being itself. It watched me, its two bright green eyes communicating no emotion, though its short trunk swung back and forth.
Thank you, I said, connecting to its mind and hoping it understood the message.
I rejoined my friends, all of whom were watching me.
“I’m sorry for what happened in there,” I said.
“Let’s not speak of it,” Fiona said. “We came with you to die. None of us expected it to happen like it did, but here we are. Together, maybe we can defeat him and heal this world.”
He comes, the bird creature said.
All of us turned to face the Nameless One, who was now exiting the Sea. His blue skin shone brightly, while his eyes blazed like fire. He took stock of all of us for a moment before his voice entered my mind.
Numbers will not save you.
I ignored his words, and instead spoke to everyone gathered around me. Together, we can overpower him! Believe in yourselves. Fight for all the worlds that can still be saved!
There was a collective cry, with shouts, squawks, chortles, and roars, depending on the mouth they came from, all joined as one. Up above, I could hear a racket as some of the creatures were ripping off limbs of the Tree to be used as weapons. They passed them down until almost everyone was armed with something.
When the Nameless One was halfway to the Tree, we charged forward to meet him.
Chapter 73
I wasn’t the first to meet the Nameless One in battle – far from it. Some of the creatures were blindingly fast, especially the ones that flew. Already the Nameless One was struggling to strike down the avian beings diving from above, raking at his eyes, or at the ones that ran on all fours and pounced like lions. One of the birds was knocked away with a squawk, while one of the four-legged mammals with sharp horns was clobbered on the head by the Nameless One’s staff and went down, either dead or knocked out cold.
But despite his words, the Nameless One was quickly becoming overwhelmed. Soon, it was impossible to see him at all under the pile of Elekai forms, tearing him limb from limb. The very ones who had been tortured for years, decades, or even centuries, now exacted their just revenge. At first, the Nameless One was silent, making me afraid that for all that, he still fought on. But then he cried out, his pained roars deafening. And yet, even after he had gone silent, the carnage continued. I stopped watching as the press of bodies grew to be too much, as there were no more screams and just pure butchery.
I stepped away from the carnage, unable to believe what was happening.
“So ends the Nameless One,” I said.
The others looked at me in surprise. They hadn’t known who he was.
“That’s not Askalon?” Isaru asked.
I shook my head. “Askalon is still in the Radaskim Xenofold.”
The others were quiet as they thought about this. Like me, they had no idea what the effects of the Nameless One’s death would be. And was he actually dead? Was his consciousness still alive somewhere, or was it gone with his physical form? I couldn’t know the answers to those questions right now.
“So, Askalon is still alive,” Shara said.
“The Nameless One was just the puppeteer watching from the sidelines. Askalon is still alive and well, and Earth still needs to be saved. But if the Nameless One is dead – truly dead – then there will be nothing blocking us from healing this world.” That was, if it hadn’t been conquered already.
“What does that mean, then?” Isa asked. “Have we won?”
I shook my head. “Not yet. The Aberration he created all those years ago still exists. We must try to heal it, using the power of the Elekai Xenofold. It seems during the fight, it started to grow within this world. If we can manage it, we can restore everything to its previous state, before the Nameless One meddled with it.”
“So, how do we do that?” Fiona asked.
I nodded toward the other Elekai, most of which were still around what remained of the Nameless One. “They are the key. Together, we should have enough power to heal the Tree of the Aberration.” I looked up at it, a tide of memory returning to me. Memories I knew were not my own. “This Tree was once the holiest place on Askalon. And this cavern the gathering place of all dragonkind.”
“Maybe it can be again, one day,” Shara said.
“This last part will be hard,” I said. “Without the Nameless One, there may be no way off this world. He was the glue that held the worlds together. The Xenomatrix was his domain. With him gone, it might completely unravel. Purging the Aberration might even kill us. If it doesn’t, and we’re still alive after, we might not have a way of going home.”
“We’ll do what we can,” Fiona said. “That’s why we came here, right? To end this. Let’s take that chance.”
Isaru nodded. “I’m ready when you are.”
It would be a cruel thing to have come all this way, and not be able to perform this final step. But Fiona was right. We had to try, no matter the cost. We had come this far.
The other Elekai were gathering around, now. Some still had blood on their hands, their paws, their mouths. All of them watched me, waiting for the next move.
I addressed them all. It’s time to heal the Aberration. Each of you fought for your world. Now, you’ll get the chance to fight for something bigger. I pointed to the Tree. Askalon still resides here, and for the first time, he is defenseless. Already, the Xenofold here is flipping to the Elekai, but this planet’s Xenofold cannot defeat Askalon without our help.
We’ll help, Elekim, said the bear-like creature with the trunk, who was one of the few who had blood around his mouth.
The others voiced their agreement, and after we had honored what few dead we had, including Makara’s mangled corpse, we buried them in the xen not far from the Tree.
I prayed that she could somehow return to the Xenofold on Earth, even from this place. She had wandered in the darkness too long, but without her, none of this would have been possible.
* * *
We came to a stop before the Tree. All I had to do was reach out, and together, we would enter Askalon’s Xenofold and make it fully our own. And when it became our own, all those under it would become Elekai.
And the Radaskim would end. After millions of years, the evil which should have never been in the first place would be gone forever.
“Shanti,” Shara said, stepping forward. I turned to look at her, my other friends waiting behind her. “None of us were ever Elekim. Not like the rest of you here.”
“It doesn’t matter,” I said. “Join us. We’ll need all the help we can get.”
“So, this might be the end, then?” Isa asked. “It’s . . . been a journey. That’s all I can say.”
She held Isaru’s hand, and he smiled down at her. Shara hugged me suddenly, and fiercely, and soon, all of us were embracing.
“Thank you,” I said. “Thank you for everything. I couldn’t have asked for be
tter friends, no matter what way this goes.”
Fiona wiped her eyes. “I forgive what you had to do in there. It was the Nameless One’s doing, in the end, not yours. Don’t blame yourself for the choices you had to make. If you hadn’t made those hard choices, we wouldn’t be standing here now.”
“I don’t know if I forgive myself for some of the things I had to do,” I said. “But we should get moving. This is probably our last time together. But who knows? Maybe not. Let’s hope for the best. That’s all we can do.”
“I just want to finish the job,” Shara said. “Let’s get on with it.”
I agreed. I turned to the rest of the Elekai.
All right. Enter a bond with me. When I touch the Tree, lend me your strength. All of it. We’re going to need it to heal a wound as deep as this.
When I was sure everyone was clear on the instructions, and ready, I turned around. As soon as I touched the Tree, I felt the wound. A deep, searing gash that had cut deeply over millions of years. But beneath that pain, that horror, that destruction of worlds, I could see a light, too. Old memories of the dragons and their gardens on Askalon’s sunlit surface ran through my mind, along with its dappled pink seas and the violet skies of yesteryear. I recalled those times, and the time the dragons had spent in this place, this garden, this greatest of all their creations.
But most of all, I focused on this garden’s centerpiece. This very Tree.
One by one, the Elekai added their power to mine, channeling the power of the Xenofold quickly falling under Elekai influence. But there was still one bastion of darkness, a corner that could not be pierced, so thick were the walls.
It was time to break it down.
Askalon, I called. We are here to exorcise the darkness within.
Despite the collective power of the Xenofold aiding me, I felt its backlash.
Remember, I said. Remember who you were.
I was . . . Elekim. I was . . . the first.
Are you ready to receive us? Are you ready to rise to the mantle of your namesake? To cast out the darkness that has poisoned you?
A terrible wailing sounded as the power of Askalon’s Xenofold pierced the darkness in a font of light. I felt myself fading as everything else brightened, as all of us were lost to that light.
Yes, the first Elekim said, from deep within the Tree. I remember.
I realized then what I had to do. As Alex had transferred his powers to me, and as the Wanderer had transferred his powers to him, it was now time for me to give up my own powers, the powers that had originated with the very one I was trying to save.
Only then would the world be cured. Only then would the darkness be driven away.
Accept my mantle, I said. Take it from me and destroy the Radaskim for good.
At first, I felt as if nothing had happened. But slowly, I felt the power of the Xenofold being drawn away from me, until it had slowed to a trickle. I was still Elekai, but the awesome power of Elekim had passed on.
It is done, Elekim said.
A burden lifted itself from my shoulders. Askalon was healed, his title of Elekim of the Elekai restored. And the Radaskim were no more.
Chapter 74
Pallos veered Odin on what would be its last hurrah. The waves of crawlers were unending, crashing against the final line holding the entrance to the Caverns of Creation. The line was breaking at points, and soon, the men would have nowhere to run and nowhere to hide, awaiting the inevitable slaughter.
And watching it all from the sky was the massive, black dragon, Odium of the Dark. Odium did not fight; he merely watched, circled, surveyed. His dragons had almost destroyed what was left of the Elekai, and the remnant could do nothing to stop the assault by air. The Radaskim dragons’ claws only hastened the doom of the ground troops crumbling before them.
The way to the Sea of Creation would lay open in a matter of minutes.
Pallos only saw one option, one last gamble, that might buy a few more minutes. His heart felt as if it were going to pound out of his chest, while his body was covered in a cold sweat.
Why does it have to be me? How did it come to this?
These questions flashed through his mind as he sent Odin forward at full throttle, heedless of the danger it would cause the ship’s reactor. The reactor would be gone in a minute, anyway. Perhaps even less.
“This had better work,” he said.
Pallos didn’t want his life to be meaningless. If it was to be death, at least he would go down fighting.
The dragon charge came at once, as the Radaskim collectively recognized the danger Odin posed. They flew directly at Pallos, ignoring the cowering ground troops below. Pallos was past the point of no return. Even if he turned away now and fled, which he had no mind to do, the dragons would intercept him. Odin was in such a state that a few dragons slamming into its hull would be enough to send it spiraling out of control.
Pallos wasn’t concerned with the death of a few dragons. He had warned the troops below of his intent, and to flee if they saw him fly directly at Odium. It was impossible to know if they were following his directions or not, but he hoped they had listened.
This probably wasn’t going to work, anyway. But anything was better than rolling over and dying.
As the first dragons swarmed in, the auto-turrets engaged, shredding the leaders. They went down easily enough. But for every dragon shot down, there were more to take its place. They swarmed so thickly that he could hardly even see Odium anymore. He had caught the attention of the master, who circled in the distance, not changing his position and utterly confident that Pallos would never make it close enough to engage.
They were battering into Odin now, sending it on a sharp trajectory downward. Was he close enough yet?
It will have to be close enough, Pallos realized. He could barely reach the touchscreen, where the order was ready to execute. The engine would overload, a fusion bomb rigged to rend Odium’s army asunder. With luck, it would blast Odium as well.
It was a long shot, but at least it was still a shot.
“He’s still too far,” Pallos said. But the ground was fast rising, and there was simply no time.
Pallos pressed the screen, initiating the overload sequence. The engine began to whine, and the ship started shaking violently.
Then, the lights went out. The reactor had simply shut off and Pallos found the ship was hurtling toward the ground.
“It’s over, then,” he said. “Damn thing didn’t even work.”
Not even seeing the point – a death on the ground at the hands of the crawlers would be far more painful than crashing headfirst into them – he hit the eject button. The ceiling of the flight deck popped opened, and his seat shot into the air. His last vision before the G-forces took him was one of swirling dragons, flashing teeth, and sharp claws. He expected it to be the last sight of his life.
* * *
Pallos came to just as he heard the clamor of Odin’s crash, as fires engulfed the vessel. He found himself floating downward, thankfully in the opposite direction of the impact. He was still not attacked, and completely ignored by the Radaskim swarm. The dragons were flying, yes, but none moved to attack him. Of Odium, there was no sign.
An eerie quiet settled over the field of battle. The multitudes of crawlers below, likewise, had come to a complete standstill. Pallos stared, wide-eyed, as his chair took him directly to a large gathering of them. They parted at the last moment to give him space to land, which he did with a thud.
He unstrapped himself and stumbled forward, blinking a few times in succession. He stood face to face with a particularly hideous crawler, whose three eyes blinked at him curiously, as if it were just as surprised to see him as he was to see it. It made no violent move, the other crawlers doing the same thing.
The crawler chortled in a decidedly non-violent manner. As if to test it, Pallos reached out to touch the fearsome beast five times his own size.
It nuzzled his hand.
Maybe she di
d it, Pallos thought. Is it possible?
There was no time to dwell on the question. He turned and ran in the direction of the Caverns of Creation.
* * *
What remained of the combined armies stared in disbelief and awe at the immobile crawlers, who were now retreating from the line of battle, leaving the dead, both human and monster, behind. There was no cheering. Only confusion.
The leaders – at least, those leaders still alive or could be found, gathered in the center of the battlefield. Prince Nabea, the Elders Arminius, Draeus, and Lian, Lord Harrow, and General Tertullian.
“Is this all?” Nabea asked.
“Victor has fallen,” Tertullian said. “I saw him die myself, and with him most of the Plains People.”
Nabea nodded. “They fought valiantly. The bomb never went off, so how did Pallos manage it?”
“I don’t think it was Pallos,” Elder Arminius said.
All looked to him for explanation, and Nabea was the first to speak. “Are you saying that she did it?”
Arminius nodded. “Don’t you feel it, Nabea? The great cloud that has been haunting us all has lifted. His horrible presence has departed this world.”
“The dragon is dead?” Tertullian asked.
Arminius shook his head. “I don’t know. Like the crawlers, its body might still live on, directionless. We cannot say until we send a party to investigate.”
“I volunteer,” Captain Dailyn said, approaching the group. His clothes and leather armor were tattered, and his skin sported multiple gashes.
Nabea nodded. “Let it be done. If all agree?”
Heads nodded all around, and Captain Dailyn departed.
“I pray it is truly over,” Elder Draeus said. “Elder Tellor fought hard before he fell to them. I don’t know how many he slayed, but it was too many to count.”