Prophecy

by Kyle West

  The wind blew chill, and everything was eerily quiet. I became aware of the brute fact, more than ever before, that I was alive. I was a living, breathing person.

  I paused, the wind buffeting against my body. Below I could see the lone, sharp Traitors’ Rock jutting from below. It reminded me of a cracked tooth. For over two centuries, some of the worst of Colonia’s criminals had been dashed on it. Beyond the rock were a few adobe buildings, but there were only several streets’ worth before they stopped at the south wall. Beyond were the red desert and the Colorado River weaving southwest, the water shimmering blood red from the evening sky.

  The Peacemakers stood behind me. Their arms, at any moment, could send me hurtling over the edge. I was just one step from death. Now, the tears came, quickly dried by the wind. This went on for a while. I wondered what was taking them so long. I closed my eyes, ready for it all to be over.

  The Peacemaker’s voice behind shocked me to alertness.

  “I’ll tell you what I tell everyone else,” he said. “You can either step off yourself, or you’ll be forced to. Annara deals more favorably with those who recognize their guilt and step of their own avail, while the punishment in Eternity is greater for those who must be pushed. In simpler terms, we can do this the easy way, or the hard way. Whatever way you choose, you are going to die, Elekai. Your death can be by your own hand, or by mine. The Holy Covenant of the Annaran Faith has deemed you traitor, heretic, and Elekai. You were false to your country and to the purity of humankind, and your continued existence is an offense to the gods themselves, who died to deliver us from your ilk.” He let a long silence pass before speaking again. “Do you have any last words?”

  I only half-heard the Peacemaker. Tears streamed down my face, and I could only look at the sky beyond and think how beautiful it all was. I had but a moment left, but my pending death set everything into sharp focus. The peace returned, and for some reason, I knew that when I died, I wouldn’t be entering a place of fire or darkness. I would be returning to a place of love, to the home which bound my people and everyone like me.

  My people. Where had that thought come from?

  I supposed that finally, standing on the edge, I had made my peace with who I was.

  “I am Elekai,” I said. “And I regret nothing.”

  The wind blew, as if in answer to my words. There was nothing left for me here.

  I stepped forward, into the empty air.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  I HAD NOT BEEN FALLING far when something large swooped beneath me, black wings outspread, and that was all I had time to notice before it fell in time with me. It lifted, even as the ground approached. There was a man sitting on it, his hair long, silver, and streaming in the wind.

  It was a rider and his dragon, only this dragon was a Radaska.

  I landed on the dragon’s back, centered between its two longest and cruelest spikes. Even though it had timed its fall with mine, the landing knocked the wind out of me, and I couldn’t grab on to anything because my hands were tied.

  Even so, the man twisted around and grabbed my arms as the dragon drew itself up, letting out a mighty roar. The man held fast, making sure I didn’t fall.

  “Right your legs,” he said. “And hold on for your life.”

  He pulled me into a sitting position, and once I had steadied, produced a long knife, which he used to cut my bonds. Bewildered, I squeezed my legs tightly on the dragon’s back and grabbed onto the base of the spike in front of me.

  We now flew mere feet above Traitors’ Rock, where I was supposed to have landed seconds ago. I glanced back at the cliff, where a sea of faces stared down with widened eyes.

  All of this happened in a single moment. The Radaska, whose scales were as dark as midnight, angled away from the cliff and flew low over the city’s red turrets and towers basking in the light of the fading sun. From below emanated shocked screams as we passed, and I felt like joining them myself. The only thing that stopped me was the numb shock of it all.

  The man wore a plain gray cloak, and along with his shoulder-length silver hair, it fluttered in the wind, nearly hitting my face. I could see from the back of the man’s neck that his skin was pale, and its smoothness told me he was young. He might have been a couple of years older than me.

  “Things are going to be very different from now on,” he said. His voice was calm and firm. “My name is Isaru, and I took it upon myself to rescue you.”

  I was still too shocked to respond. I would have said this Isaru was one of the Dragonriders, only the dragon was a Radaska – by definition, untamable. At my lack of response, he continued talking.

  “I imagine you’ve been through hard times. Such is the fate of being Elekai in Colonia. We’re going to the Red Wild, the home of the Elekai. It’s where I live, along with my people, the Annajen – the true followers and people of Annara.”

  So many questions ran through my mind that I didn’t know where to start. How did this Isaru come to save me? How did he even know to save me?

  “I imagine you’re probably very confused right now, but all will be explained in time.”

  “How did you manage this?” I asked.

  “It was mostly Jorla’s doing.” I didn’t know who he was talking about, until I realized he meant the dragon. “We flew high above, hidden by the clouds, only leaving cover when it came close to time. We almost tried to save you on the bridge, but thankfully, the cliff proved to be a better opportunity.” I was about to ask how he knew to find me, when he continued speaking. “I suppose there will be time to explain on the way. For now, we have to focus on escaping.”

  As if in answer to that comment, a distant screech sounded from behind. I turned to see three Askaleen dragons and their Riders giving chase.

  “The Dragonriders!” I said.

  “They cannot catch Jorla,” Isaru said, rubbing the dragon’s neck. “They might as well try to catch the wind.”

  “Jorla is the dragon, right?”

  Yes. I am Jorla.

  The voice resounded in my mind, causing me to freeze in place.

  “She heard me!”

  Frightens easily, doesn’t she?

  Isaru chuckled. “Seems like you have the Gift of Dragonspeech. So do I.”

  “You can hear her, too?”

  “Of course,” Isaru said. “We can both talk to Jorla, if we wish, and she can talk to us. In most, Dragonspeech has to be trained to manifest, but it seems we both have Inherence. A rarity.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I said. “And I knew I could talk to dragons already.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “It’s how they discovered me in the first place,” I said. “There was this Radaska dragonling at a fair, and I talked to it.”

  A dragonling? Jorla asked. Whose?

  “I don’t know,” I said, still a little startled to be talked to so directly. “I tried to defend it, but that drew the eye of the Hunters.”

  “Where is this dragonling, now?” Isaru asked.

  “It was brought to the Red Cathedral, in Eastshore, but that was a few days ago. I don’t know where it is now.”

  It is far too dangerous to return, Jorla said. We don’t know of any dragonling that has been stolen, so they must have reared her since she hatched. A cruel fate, but perhaps something might be done.

  “Like what?” Isaru asked.

  I will speak to the Chiefs of my Aerie, Jorla said. They will know what to do.

  “I tried to protect her,” I said, “but there was nothing I could do.”

  You did as much as you could have. That is all anyone can do.

  “It’s remarkable, though,” Isaru said. “When Jorla and I came out here, we expected to find a seasoned Elekai, not a mere girl.”

  “You can’t be much older than me...”

  “You misunderstand,” Isaru said. “You can speak to dragons without training, and you Called across a vast distance, letting us know you were in trouble. T
hese are not things most can do without years of training. However, from your age, it can’t have been long since you manifested.”

  “What does that even mean, manifested? You’ve said it several times, now. And I didn’t call anything.”

  She truly knows nothing of the Twelve Gifts, Isaru, Jorla said. Perhaps you should explain.

  “Right,” Isaru said. “There are Twelve Gifts for those of the Elekai blood, and Dragonspeech is just one of them. Calling is another as well, something you seem to be well-practiced in. Calling is the transmitting of thoughts over vast distances. In your case, some two hundred miles.”

  I just stared at Isaru blankly, not comprehending. “What?”

  “Well, somehow, the Elders in Haven heard your Calls for the past four days.”

  “What Calls?” I asked. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Then how else can you explain the fact that I found you? The Calling might have seemed like prayers, to your mind, but to send a Call as far as you did, without any sort of training...your blood must be strong indeed.”

  “So...you’re saying that I communicated two hundred miles with just my mind?”

  “That’s exactly what I’m saying. I definitely expected someone a bit older.” Before I could respond, he half-turned and spoke again. “Hungry?”

  It took me a moment to register that he had offered me food, a fact which reinforced itself when he held out a sandwich.

  Within half a second, I had grabbed it, not even feeling ashamed because I was so hungry.

  “Easy there,” Isaru said. “Thirsty, too?”

  Within half a minute I was finished with the sandwich, and I grabbed the canteen he offered, taking a deep pull of water. I coughed because I drank too fast, and nearly dropped the canteen.

  Isaru took it back. “They weren’t feeding you, then. I was afraid of that.”

  After a moment, I collected myself enough to speak. “How...how do you know all this?”

  “You are an Elekai,” Isaru said. “But you know nothing about being Elekai.”

  I hesitated a moment. “I guess you could say that. I’m just...shocked, more than anything.”

  “I suppose that would be the expected reaction. Do you have a name?”

  My face reddened when I realized I hadn’t told him that. “Shanti. Shanti Roshar.” I paused, wiping my mouth dry from where I’d splashed myself with water. “You’re Elekai, then.”

  “Yes, and so is most everyone who lives in the Red Wild. I am of the Godsblood, of the Annajen Tribe. We live in Haven in the Grand Canyon, and that’s where we’re headed now.”

  I looked behind to see the Red Bastion and the Dome of Annara, surprisingly distant. We had already flown over the walls, and there was no sign of Dragonriders behind us. Even the river had been passed.

  “I didn’t even do anything wrong,” I said. “They just...tried to kill me.”

  “None of us are responsible for who we are born to be,” Isaru said. “Any more than we are responsible for being alive.” He kept his eyes ahead. “Though I’m Elekai, my path was different from yours, just as it was different for any who were born in the Red Wild. But diverging paths sometimes have the tendency to wind up in the same place.” He paused. “Though we haven’t reached the end of our road, yet.”

  I turned around to view the city. It was hard to believe how small everything was. Silver Bridge gleamed in the last of the fading light, and the Red Cathedral looked like a toy, so far in the distance. I could cover it with a couple of fingers.

  It was hard to wrap my head around the fact that this was even happening. I still had no idea who this Isaru was, or if I could trust him. I was so overwhelmed that it was hard to be grateful for the fact that he had saved me. If I had learned anything in the past few days, it was that people couldn’t be trusted. For all I knew, I’d be better off throwing myself from this dragon.

  Don’t be stupid, I thought.

  “My parents...” I said. “They don’t know what’s happened to me. I think they might be in danger.”

  “Your parents?” Isaru asked.

  “I haven’t seen them since the Hunters imprisoned me. Is...being Elekai something you catch, or is it something you inherit?”

  “It’s inherited,” Isaru said. “Neither of your parents are Elekai?”

  “Not that I know,” I said. “There are no Elekai in Colonia. At least, that was what I thought.”

  “There was one, at least,” Isaru said. “But so long as your parents are not Elekai, they have nothing to fear from the Covenant.”

  Despite Isaru’s words, I couldn’t help but be worried about them.

  “I don’t suppose we could...go back?”

  Isaru shook his head. “Unless we both want to die, that’s out of the question.”

  I was still confused about this Calling, as Isaru called it. Could he have been talking about all those prayers that I had said in the pit, the ones I thought weren’t being heard?

  “All those things I prayed...you heard them? How is that even possible?”

  “It’s a rare Gift, Calling,” Isaru said. “Its power is amplified in times of great duress, so perhaps that explains your ability to do it. I never heard you directly, but some of the Elders did. Others...myself included...had dreams about you. It took a while before the Elders pieced everything together. Even if desperation fueled those messages, it’s not something most Elekai could have done.”

  “Until a few days ago, I didn’t know I was Elekai. But my eyes turned white when I talked to the dragonling.”

  “Manifestation,” Isaru said.

  “What does that mean?”

  “Manifestation occurs without training in a few Elekai: those of strong potential. It’s the Gift of Inherence. In others, that potential must be trained out of them. Even without that dragonling, it would have happened, given time. An Elekai is marked by their connection to the Xenofold.”

  “The Xenofold?”

  “The collective memory of all that is Elekai. All Elekai beings are connected to it, but the connection is stronger in some than others. It is a matter of blood, and it’s from this connection that the Elekai derive the Twelve Gifts – abilities that a non-Elekai, or Bloodless, doesn’t have. However, in most Elekai, their blood isn’t strong enough to have defined Gifts, though every Elekai enjoys a connection to the Xenofold at some level, no matter how weak. Even those who are strongly connected to the Xenofold possess, at most, three Gifts. Untrained, you have demonstrated that you have at least two.”

  “Where did Elekai inherit their Gifts in the first place, though? Where did the Elekai even come from? In Colonia, we are taught they are demons.”

  Isaru turned, seeming surprised. “You truly don’t know? We derive our Gifts from the gods themselves. The Six Gods – Elekim, Annara, Samal, Retha, Makai, and Larana. The Elekai are their descendants and the heirs of their powers.”

  Now, it was my turn to be surprised. “Those are our gods, too. But they weren’t Elekai. They fought against the Elekai, long ago during the First Darkness.”

  “That might be what the Covenant teaches,” Isaru said. “But it isn’t the truth. That truth was lost when the Covenant drove the Elekai from Colonia. They destroyed our writings and rewrote history to fit their own agenda.”

  This was the height of heresy, and I had never heard such a thing. “But...why?”

  “The answer is complicated, and not one fully understood, even among the Elekai. Basically, there was a lot of dissent against the Elekai at that time by the Bloodless. It was said that we ruled corruptly, and it drove the common people to rebellion. That rebellion, over time, became what is known today as the Annaran Covenant, and their hatred of the Elekai never truly went away.”

  “I remember that part,” I said. “Everyone knows about the Liberation.”

  Isaru chuckled. “What the Covenant calls the Liberation we call the Uprising. Go figure.”

  A time passed where I could do nothin
g but be silent as the sky grew completely dark and the stars came out.

  “We’re going to Haven, then,” I said. “In the Red Wild.”

  Isaru nodded. “It is the seat of the Annajen people.”

  “The Annajen are Elekai, then?”

  “Yes. The Elekai are composed of Three Tribes, not counting the Wild Tribes. There are the Makai, which live to the south in the Webwood. They are the descendants of the gods Makai and Larana, and their capital city is called Sylva. Then there are the Annajen, of which I’m a part. We are the descendants of Annara and Elekim himself. Our chief city is Haven, in the Grand Canyon. Then, there are the Samalites, the descendants of the god Samal and the goddess Retha. They don’t have a city, and are spread all over the Wild. They once had a city, called Hyperborea, which was in Ragnarok Crater. But Hyperborea was destroyed over a century and a half ago.”

  “Destroyed?” I asked. “How?”

  “No one knows,” Isaru said. “Some say it was attacked, though none can say by whom. Some say it destroyed itself with its pride and greed. Others believe it never existed at all, and is merely a parable against the dangers of hubris. During its height, it is said Hyperborea could create wonders only dreamed of today.”

  I was quiet, soaking in all this information. “Is it still there?”

  “They say it is,” Isaru said. “But the far north is dangerous, and no one in their right mind ever goes there. Where the Elekai live, it isn’t dangerous, but there are places where men fear to tread. Ragnarok Crater contains the largest reversion, one so advanced that we Elekai can never hope to restore it. All efforts to do so have been in vain, so all we can do is contain it. Reversions are more common in the north, but some of the Samalites and Wild Tribes still live there.”

  “What are reversions?”

  “A weakening in the Xenofold. It manifests in a particular area of the Wild, and if left unchecked, the reversion becomes a Blight. The animals and plants become Mindless, lacking a connection to the Xenofold. Such life is hostile to all that is Elekai, but Mindless Dragons are the most to be feared. Mindless Askaleen are docile, but they can be trained as mounts. Mindless Radaska, on the other hand, are wild and will attack anything on sight...even other Radaska.”