2288 A.D. - ALTERNATE DIMENSIONS: To the End of Infinity

by R. Brown

  As the number of trees dwindled, Ash decided to help them by ordering the ground to liquefy beneath the men. The ground softened, becoming like quicksand. Hundreds of men were trapped, slowly sinking into the ground until they disappeared out of sight. The men grasped at the attacking roots and branches, anything within reach—until finally, their strained, clawing fingers, stilled and went limp.

  By Ashlyn’s best guess, five-thousand men had been killed. Their collaboration devolved. It was everyman for himself as they ignored the outstretched hands of friends begging for help. Those that could dropped their swords and shifted form into the Naga, deciding that the sky was their only option.

  Almost three-thousand Naga took flight, and of those, most didn’t survive more than a few seconds. The Naga were in chaos, scattering in all directions.

  When Ashlyn saw that some were getting away, she called upon the arena to produce a massive tornado around the enemy, encompassing all of them. The wind quickly grew beyond that of any tornado Ashlyn had ever seen before, the eye itself over two miles in diameter. A few Naga thought to challenge it, hoping to push through—only to be shred into pieces by the strength of the wind. Trees tore from the ground. The wind peeled the earth away, leaving an ever-deepening scar in its wake.

  The dark gray swirling wind of the tornado turned orange as the forest of burning trees was sucked up. The heat from the fire was increasing, the base of the tornado broadening, narrowing as it climbed. The Naga were trapped within the core’s eye as a spinning vortex of flame began to grow in its center. The tornado had become self-energizing, the wind providing the flames with oxygen, while the rising heat from the fire empowered the wind. It was building in strength, feeding itself.

  The Naga fell, succumbing to the heat and lack of oxygen that the flames were consuming. The final nail in the coffin was the hail; it was her enemy’s death knell.

  For safety, Ash shifted into her dragon form. The intensifying wind was starting to sway and bend the trees around her.

  Picking up the sword in her claws, Ashlyn took flight, distancing herself from the cataclysm. In her mind, she could see the hopelessness of the few remaining Naga circling in the air with nowhere to go. They gasped for air; their bodies being scorched by the flames. Wanting to end the pain, resigned to their fate, the four remaining Naga flew into the vortex of fire.

  Setting down upon a hilltop, two miles away—Ash stared at the tornado, watching it grow larger by the second. The column of fire within shone like a beacon. With the last of her enemies dead, Ash recalled the far reaching mind-vision. The battle was over.

  Ash spoke, commanding the arena to bring the apocalypse to an end. From her vantage point, she watched the winds still and the hailstorm die. Taking a deep breath, she let out a loud shrieking dragon’s roar, and belched a stream of fire at the sky. She’d grown to like the sound and power.

  Returning to her natural form, Ash took a seat on a boulder. Though the battle had been won, and justice had been served—her heart was heavy. Eight thousand men had died at her hand. Thousands of women had lost their husbands, as had children lost their fathers.

  For Ashlyn, the victory was not a time to rejoice, but a time to reflect. Her thoughts went to the Anunnaki, and how similar they were to their human counterparts. Both were warlike, yet driven to explore the unknown. Each had an inherent thirst for knowledge, and a desire to seek out a better future—but Ashlyn also knew that more was needed for a society to flourish. It required cooperation, civility and adherence to the laws set forth for the common good. Even deeper, it required goodness and the willingness to sacrifice for their fellow man.

  The events Ashlyn witnessed today had taught her a lot. The men she’d faced lived to please one person, themselves. They had abandoned their friends, ignoring their pleas for help. They were missing the component of compassion and love.

  A small, cooling breeze swept past Ashlyn. On the ground next to her, she caught a glimpse of a moving shadow. Ash rolled to her left. A large broadsword came down with a loud clang as its point struck the boulder she’d been sitting on. Whirling around, she saw her attacker. It was Krall. He was a towering, mountainous man, taller than any Anunnaki she had ever seen.

  The man was smiling. “It appears that I learned the secret to how you murdered my friends. I am Krall, and I will need no tricks to slay you; for I have been chosen to avenge them.” He swung the big sword again at shoulder height to Ashlyn.

  Ducking below the sword and dropping to a knee, Ash slashed at his left leg. The blade caught him on the shin, slicing through his leather armor. Krall tottered, taking a step back. Blood spurted onto the ground. Regaining his balance, he took a step forward and raised the sword high, bringing it down atop her head. Their swords clanged as Ash put her sword up crossways, blocking his. Giving a long, gut-driven growl—he pushed downward on his sword, forcing her to kneel.

  Overpowered by him, the weight of his sword forced her sword lower. His blade reached her shoulder, cutting deep into her upper arm. The pain released a surge of adrenaline. With the rush of energy, Ash gave a gutsy scream and forced his sword back until she was again on her feet. The look on Krall’s face was one of shock, her unexpected strength surprising him. With a throaty shout, Ash pushed his heavy sword aside. The move exposed his shoulder and sword arm to her. Spinning around, Ash swung the sword with all her strength. The sword cut through the leather and into his bi-cep, down to the bone.

  Stepping back from him, her chest heaved, taking in a large breath. Raising the sword defensively, she held it tight, both hands wrapped around the hilt.

  Krall growled angrily as he ripped his armor off, wanting to rid himself of its constricting confines. “If you surrender to me and let me take you atop this mountain for all the worlds to see, I will spare your life. You will be shamed, but you will live. It is far more than you deserve.” The smile on Krall’s face was wide as his desirous eyes took her in—desire not driven by her beauty as much as by her warrior’s skill.

  “You have no honor, Krall. Your very existence defiles all that it means to be Anunnaki.” Ash hefted her sword higher inviting him to attack.

  The root of a tree suddenly wrapped around her front foot, yanking her to the ground—the off-balance fall knocking the wind from her.

  “See, I can command the trees too.” Krall pointed his sword at her. “Kill her,” Krall commanded the trees.

  “No,” Ashlyn ordered. “Let me go.” The roots unwrapped, letting her go. “We could do this all day, Krall—or, we could fight honorably. Before the watchful eyes of the Anunnaki people, I challenge you to fight me using only our swords. No tricks, no manipulations. Let us fight with swords.”

  “I accept,” Krall said grinning in response. He spun his sword around in a masterful display of prowess, at the end of which he added, “Should I defeat you, I lay claim to the right of taking the spoils. I need only your head to defile you.”

  “So be it,” Ash replied, giving him a slight nod. Turning around so that her back was to Krall, Ash raised the sword. With both her hands wrapped around the hilt, she held it upright between her breasts. Ash then closed her eyes.

  “What is this? Are you already surrendering in defeat?” Krall took an apprehensive step forward. But seeing her stillness, and unwillingness to confront him, he came at her, his sword hovering over his right shoulder. Coming to a quick stop behind her, Krall swung his sword at her neck.

  Knowing that the heavy weight of the large sword had committed him to the swing, Ashlyn dropped to her knees. As the sword passed, just inches over her head, Ashlyn bent her torso backwards and thrust the sword behind her, pushing it deep into Krall’s stomach.

  Krall staggered. His grip on his sword loosened, and it fell from his grasp to the ground, making a loud clang. His shaking hands went to Ashlyn’s bloody sword blade and wrapped around it. Blood bubbled from his mouth.

  Ashlyn rose and stood before him, her hands tight on the hilt. Pulling it from him, she hef
ted it back off her shoulder. “I am here to enforce the decree issued by the Council and restore honor to the Anunnaki people. May justice prevail.”

  Her hardened eyes locked with Krall’s. “By your own words, you chose the spoil to be taken.” Ash swung the sword, removing Krall’s head.

  A heavy barrage of lightning bolts lanced the darkness and struck the ground—the thunder rumbled as the world around her faded.

  Chapter 21

  Once again Ashlyn found herself in the void. This time, however, only seconds passed before the image of Steven appeared. The look on his face was one of surprise. He was happy, too much so.

  “Ash—you did it. I wasn’t expecting—the worlds that were watching are in awe of what you did. And I-” Steven was truly at a loss for words.

  Ashlyn was tired and too weary to beat around the bush. “I’ve been in the arena before, haven’t I? That’s why you’re so surprised to see that I survived.”

  Tears came to Steven’s eyes. He nodded, unable to find his voice.

  “How many times? How many times have I died?” said Ashlyn, her own voice cracking as emotions tied to the implication overwhelmed her. “I’ve known since the moment that you said you missed me.”

  “Many,” Steven answered. “I stopped counting a long time ago. And yes, I’ve missed you terribly.”

  “How long has it been since you last saw me in person?” When his face twisted, Ashlyn’s chest tightened.

  Steven was slow to answer, her question reminding him of his loneliness during their time apart. “It’s been more than forty-thousand years.”

  Ashlyn’s legs went weak, her hands trembling—her chest heavy. “How? What happened?”

  “I’ve been resetting the timeline over and over, planting seeds of knowledge, guiding the people that would someday have an influence on your life—all so that they could someday help you find your way back to me.” Steven’s voice withered. “It’s been so long since—”

  “Seeds? Like the story Gorok told? You were guiding me to Olympus?”

  “Yes, I made sure the story got passed down from generation to generation, until it finally reached your ears. I’ve been guiding things in the hope that you could reset the timeline, eventually avoiding the disaster that separated us.”

  “Who built the nexus? Where did it come from?”

  “You and I built it, Ash—with the Keeper’s help. He gave us access to amazing technologies. It was supposed to be a place where a man, if granted permission by the Council could face his enemies.” Steven’s eyes softened. “What we didn’t know was that in creating the nexus, we also created the darkness. With each accused victim’s death, the darkness grew stronger, more powerful, more evil.

  “Only after you entered the nexus did we become aware of it. I’ve been searching for a way to get you out ever since.”

  “So, I’ve been reliving these same few days—all this time?” Ash could hardly breathe.

  “Yes.” Steven shrugged his shoulders. “The overall time jumps are exactly the same every time. Some battles you live longer, some shorter. Within each of the jumps, you still have individual choice and free will, so there are nuanced differences.

  “That’s why you saw my hesitation for you to enter the nexus. I feared that you would fail again. It is what I have come to expect. It has been hard, watching you die so many times.”

  Steven’s words made Ashlyn’s heart ache for him. His endurance of such heartbreak across such a vast expanse of time was a testament to his love for her. “My gallant knight, you never gave up,” said Ashlyn. “The torment you went through is unfathomable.”

  “Giving up was never an option, Ash. You would have done the same for me, I know it.”

  Ash nodded. “Steven, why did I go into the nexus the first time? There had to be a reason?”

  “You didn’t go into it willingly. Enlil sent you there. You went to Tiamat to talk to him. You thought you could make him understand. Neither of us had ever thought he would...” Steven couldn’t say the words aloud.

  Ash swallowed. “How did you get the Council to approve all the time resets?”

  Her question took him away from the sorrow he was feeling. It was now Steven’s turn to have a reason to smile. “They can’t exactly refuse. Do you remember our conversation aboard Destiny 1 with Ninmah, when you told me that we were never going to see Heaven—and never going to see our friends again?”

  Ash nodded. “I remember.”

  “Well, when we said our goodbyes and I supposedly launched to go after Enlil—I didn’t. I ordered the Keeper to reset the gate and take us back to Hadaesia. I wasn’t sure that I’d be successful, but I knew that I had to try. I saved them Ash. I saved all of our friends. In fact, we saved everyone on Hadaesia. The Arkane took most of them, the rest came aboard Destiny and Defender. Drumroll please,” said Steven playfully.

  “The Council is made up of all our friends, Ash. Novacek, Brooks, Stratton, Tomlinson—all of them are here.” Steven laughed. “Even Moore is on the Council. He’s matured a bit since his cocky youthful days when he drove me crazy. Christie is on the Council too. And our son Enki.”

  Tears came to Ashlyn’s eyes. She’d never suspected such a thing to be possible.

  “They’re good kids, Ash. You’d be proud of the adults they’ve become.” Steven shrugged his shoulders, “Now you know why the Council never said no. We couldn’t leave you trapped in there, knowing the darkness would claim you. We all love you, Ash. We need you. I need you.

  “We’ve done all this—I’ve done all this, to get you back to me. When you do return, the thousands of years of waiting for you will be erased from my memory. The endless nexus resets will never have happened. We’ll get to experience all the wonders together from the very beginning. Now you can understand my excitement. We’ve never been this close before and if you can succeed—the nexus will release you. You’ll finally be free.”

  Ash had to ask the next logical question. “I don’t mean to spoil anything, but once I’m free, how do we know I won’t make the same mistake again, restarting all this mess?”

  “Because we have the Keeper!” said Steven. “Like you’d told me once, he’s been here through all of it. He has a singular perspective that none of us have. He’s been inputting all the information of your failures and successes into the database aboard the gate that brought us back in time. Much like the nexus, the gate generates a field that isn’t affected by the timeline resets. No matter how many resets there are, the gate maintains an accurate record of all the events. By accessing that database, the Keeper can help us avoid repeating the same mistakes. He’s our guardian angel.”

  “Steven—in all those nexus resets, I’ve not once beaten Enlil?”

  “From your current perspective, no—but the truth is that you did defeat him once. The first time. With his death, you were released. We fulfilled our legendary futures. We founded the Anunnaki empire and had more children. We were happy.”

  “So, this all got retriggered when Enlil sent me back into the nexus.”

  “Yes, when Enlil sent you into the nexus, he did so without preparing it for you. Since a new imprint of you was never made, the nexus put you into the loop of your prior journey. You are stuck repeating all that you have faced, until you can defeat him again. Nothing I do here on the outside has the power to change that.

  “It must come from you, but I must warn you that facing our son in battle will be the hardest thing you have ever done. He is the most powerful warrior the Anunnaki have ever known. His experience with the gifts makes him a deadly adversary, and his skill with the sword is unequalled. He is a brilliant strategist. To defeat him, you must be creative—unconventional.”

  “So, what’s different this time? Why do you think I can do it now?” Before Steven could answer, Ashlyn discerned the answer. “It’s because the darkness isn’t in me. It’s because it went into—”

  The light in Steven’s eyes darkened. “Yes. I believe you have a c
hance this time because the darkness is in our unborn son. This is the first time such a thing has happened. I believe it too has grown weary of the resets. It wants out. The netherworld is as close to a literal Hell as can exist for the souls trapped within it.”

  Ashlyn swallowed, fear rising. “If I win Steven, the darkness will escape. We will need to return someday, so that our son can purge the darkness. We can’t let it loose upon the world.”

  “I know, but at least we will face that time, together.” Steven’s image began to dissipate.

  “Steven, will he recognize me?”

  “No, he was little the last time he saw you in this form. The Anunnaki are easily bored, and changing forms regularly has become a custom. As for the final arena, you will have your natural Anunnaki abilities, and nothing more. I don’t need to tell you to be careful, but—be careful.”

  Ashlyn gave a solemn nod. “I know what needs to be done. I’ll not fail you.”

  The void began to brighten.

  Chapter 22

  Ash found herself standing atop a rocky plateau looking down upon a vast plain. Scattered homes and farms lined the interconnected roadways between fields of crops and fenced sheep. To the west, billowing clouds of heavy smoke were rising, blacking out the setting sun and making it seem later in the day than it really was. The fire in the wheat field was moving fast, pushed to the southwest by a light breeze.

  To the east, a small group of terrified men stood shoulder-to-shoulder in defense of a primitive, mud and stone city behind them. Instead of defending the city from the fire, the men were armed with clubs and wooden herding staffs, prepared to fight against an impossible enemy.

  From somewhere beyond the wall of smoke, Ashlyn heard the bellowing roar of a large creature. A faint, human scream suddenly stilled. Though visibly scared, the men were prepared to die in defense of their families. A scroungy, brown dog stood at his master’s side, his tail between his legs—cowering.