by Kyle West
What are they doing? I asked.
Something I cannot seem to talk them out of, Quietus said. They are leaving Earth to its fate.
Wait. What?
We better hurry, Quietus said.
Quietus let out a bone-rattling roar that, at once, caused every dragon to turn its attention skyward.
I could see the largest of the dragons – Tiamat – standing in the center of the lake, the ichor halfway up his torso. I could still feel his eyes boring into us from afar. His shoulders were lowered, and his tail twitching, in what seemed to be a fighting posture.
Several dragons made way as Quietus shot down from the sky; I held on tightly. Though I wasn’t in any real danger of falling, my heart was still beating out of my chest.
Quietus let out another scream, drawing up with her wings and landing with a hard thump. I slid off her side and padded lightly on the ground. I turned to face Tiamat, who was glaring at me from the center of the lake.
The human returns. His voice resonated in my head.
Anna returns, Tiamat, Quietus said.
Tiamat made no response to this.
We are nearly ready, he said. You’re just in time, Anna human.
In time for what? I asked.
To take the journey into the Xenomatrix, Quietus said. To leave Earth.
There were about fifty dragons surrounding Tiamat in the lake, whom I somehow knew to be on his side.
All of them?
Yes, Quietus said. The dragons have been debating the question for one hundred days exactly. This, the one hundredth day, is when every dragon must decide for themselves what they will do: to follow Tiamat into the next world to carry on the Eternal War, or to stand and fight here, risking it all.
How could they leave? I asked. How could they give up?
They have deemed Earth’s Xenofold too weak to stand against the Radaskim, Quietus said. They believe it best to transfer their minds to the next world. Wherever and whenever that next world is.
But we need every one of them to fight here! I said. We have no hope of defeating Isaru’s dragons without their help.
Then you must convince them, Quietus said. For I could not.
Me? What can I say that you haven’t?
Quietus looked down at me, her eyes seeming sad. I don’t know, Anna. What I do know is that Askal and I have not swayed him, or those who follow him, in the least.
So, it was all up to me, then. And if my first and only conversation with Tiamat was any indication, this wasn’t going to go well at all.
Nonetheless, all the dragons were looking at me. I had to say something, to give my pitch and hope for the best.
You’re giving this world up, Tiamat, I said. I never pegged you for a coward.
I felt the dragon’s collective shock as if it were my own emotion. Other than Quietus and Askal, Tiamat was the highest-ranking dragon among the Elekai, and even the lowliest dragon was above the highest human.
I will not the suffer the insolence of your kind, Tiamat said. I will speak with you, but only out of respect for my king and queen. Say what you must, and be gone. This council is beyond your comprehension.
I ignored the insult. This is the only place we can make our stand. Mistakes have been made – mistakes that cannot easily be undone. But if you think we can win elsewhere, when Earth is the only victory we’ve ever had . . .
It is too late to fight, Anna, Tiamat said. Hyperborea set the scar that can never be healed. The world was doomed over a hundred years ago, and there is nothing we can do to save Earth’s Xenofold. Elekim, and the humanity he protects, will face Radaskim assimilation. There is nothing we can do to help you, for faithless humanity has not helped itself. You are a curse to the Xenofold, a false branch that must be cut off. Humanity was never meant to have the Gifts, for they only abused their power.
You’re right that nothing can be done, but only if you give up, I said. Do you really think you can win if you run? When have the Elekai ever won, except here? A thousand worlds have fallen to the Radaskim, Tiamat. Earth alone is the only one that has stood. Does that not mean anything to you?
It does. It is a lesson to us all. May that be a lesson to us all, Tiamat said. The Radaskim can be defeated again.
Because of humanity’s sacrifice, I said. Faithless humanity, as you seem to call us. What Alex did was not faithless, Tiamat. Though you’re a dragon with access to the memories of the Xenofold, perhaps you’ve chosen to forget that fact. I was there, Tiamat. I was there before you were even born!
Tiamat bared his teeth. You are not she. You have her face, and you even have something of her spirit. But your powers are weak, and will not avail you. As they didn’t when you tried to defeat the Fallen One in his own domain. Be gone, for you don’t know of what you speak.
My son, Askal said, with an agitated flutter of his wings, do you expect the Radaskim High Xenominds to commit the same errors twice? Anna Reborn is right. It is folly to flee. It is folly to leave the humans to their fate. Anna is right. Before you were even born, the humans fought with us as battle brothers against Askala and her swarm. By the power of Elekim, all the Radaska were freed from Askala’s grip. Those few of us who are still alive from those days will fight to the end.
Tiamat let out a low growl, a growl which vibrated my very bones. My heart quickened as he waded through the ichor. His scales glowed with luminescence as the life-filled liquid parted to make a path for him by some unseen force. I realized it was Tiamat controlling the ichor, becoming one with it.
Elekim saved the dragons, father. But Elekim’s power has waned to nearly nothing, so much so that he is almost gone. Trying to waken him, as Anna has wakened here, might be the death of the Xenofold itself. So long as the Hyperfold exists, there is no strength. Tiamat turned his glowing, white eyes onto me. You have failed to destroy the Hyperfold, human, as I foretold last we met.
We tried, I said. We nearly succeeded. Even now, Elder Isandru is in the Hyperfold. He’s fighting, Tiamat. I would help him if I could. If I knew how.
Quietus and Askal turned to look at me, along with every other dragon gathered at the lake. This was news to them, and they wanted to hear more.
Is there a way I can help him, Quietus, to add my power to his?
You are Anna, Quietus said. The Xenofold serves you as much as it serves any of us. You simply need to command it.
What do you mean, to command it?
Even if she had the power, Tiamat said, the Xenofold does not have the power to give.
Be silent, Tiamat, Quietus said. I will hear nothing more of your bitterness. If it is in your wish to depart to the next world, then we will not hinder you.
You must see, Mother, that it is hopeless! You would die for these faithless humans, who have caused the destruction of this world?
You forget, my son, that we dragons rendered a similar destruction unto ourselves, long, long ago . . . we are an older race, and wiser one, now. But only through much pain and turmoil.
All were quiet as they listened to Quietus speak.
Our kind was young once, she continued, as young as the humans are now, when there was nothing that could even be called a human on this world. The Xenofold has blessed us with the wisdom of ancient times, wisdom closed off to the humans who have not been fully assimilated. Though imperfect . . . I judge the humans to be our brothers and sisters. I call this world mine as much as they do, Tiamat. All your life you have lived here, but if you believe your true home is among the stars . . . then I will not hinder your flight. I only want peace and happiness for you, and I would be grieved to ever see you die. However, I would be even more grieved to see you betray the sacrifice made my those older than you. And yes, even braver than you.
Tiamat was struck silent for a moment; but only for a moment. But how can I have happiness when you would throw away your own life? I could feel his grief and pain emanating from him. When you, father, and the old ones stay to fight a war that you are sure to lose? Why is it rig
ht for us, who have eternal life, to trade it for those who don’t have it? The life of an eternal being is worth a thousand of a lesser one!
That is where we disagree, my son, Askal said solemnly. A life is a life is a life. When we rate one above another, whatever the reason, then we have lost ourselves. Do not deceive yourself into thinking the humans deserve the fate that awaits them should you abandon them here; that is the lie you tell yourself, for you were grieved long ago. I do not believe you hate humanity, my son. You loved them so much that when they hurt you, when they disappointed you, you chose to hate them. You are right in that it was their sin, their folly, that created the situation we are now in. But never forget that we dragons birthed the original sin . . . the sin that became the Radaskim, the Aberration, that will hunt us throughout the stars for millennia, from world to world, until there are no more worlds and no more fights . . . only the cold dark of eternal slavery, of minds that will no longer be ours, of thralldom to the dark masters until the end of time. It is a journey I will not take, and that is what waits for you, if you run now.
Tiamat was silent as he tried to guess at the meaning of his father’s words. Father . . .
He continued nonetheless. Being reborn on the next world would reset everything to the mean, as the Nameless One dictates. The Radaska who follow you will be doomed to a life of slavery, unless a new Elekim can free them, as happened on Earth.
I can save them, Father, Tiamat said. I am strong enough. You will see.
Perhaps you have power enough, Quietus said. I don’t know what fate awaits you, my son. Whatever you choose . . . wherever you go . . . a mother’s love follows you. When you waken under a new sun and stretch your wings for the first . . . just know you may not hear my voice among the stars and the Eternal Song. Earth, in all likelihood, will be a graveyard.
But I would hear you! Tiamat said. If you journey with me, we will survive. There are thousands of millions of stars, plenty of time to run, to plan, to fight another day!
I am not running, my son, Quietus said. I am through running. I will stand here and die, if need be. I owe Elekim that debt for my freedom.
Tiamat turned to face Askal. And you, father? Surely, you see the folly of staying . . . how can we stay when the Xenofold is so far fallen?
I don’t know if we can win, son, Askal said. But I know that fleeing is not the answer. Elekim would never forgive me, and more . . . I could never forgive myself. What you must ask, Tiamat, is if you can live with yourself, having made such a decision.
But faithless humanity . . . The thought dissipated as Tiamat turned his white, angry eyes upon me. It was as if he blamed me for everything that had happened, as if I were personally responsible for dooming his parents to eternal death.
If the Radaskim were victorious, then Earth’s Xenofold would be assimilated into the Radaskim. All those bound to the Xenofold . . . all the Elekai who died since the Xenofold’s creation, dragon and human . . . would become the slaves of Odium.
To lose would be a fate worse than death. It would be eternal torture, to become a mockery of everything we fought against.
Staying on Earth was not an easy choice, honor or not. I could not begrudge any being . . . not even Tiamat . . . if they chose to leave.
The Xenofold will soon be too weak to make the journey possible, Tiamat said, resignedly. And at the point of decision, I find my own courage failing.
It isn’t over, I said, directly to Tiamat. There is still hope that the Xenofold can be saved. Whatever you choose, there is no sure answer. But if you stay with us . . . if you fight . . .then I can promise you that you will see the good in humanity that you’ve forgotten. And yes, you’ll see evil, too. But our fight is the same fight, Tiamat. I can’t ask you to forgive us. If we work together, I believe we can undo humanity’s mistakes.
You do not know that.
I know that we won’t if we never try. You and your dragons could be the difference in whatever battles lie ahead. This is our best shot. If you stay, Tiamat, I’ll show you our good side. My friends will show you that, too.
I have seen all that I wish of humanity, Anna, Tiamat said. I grant that humans may have been different once, long ago before I was even born. But no longer. They have ruined the Xenofold that was gifted to them. They have poisoned this world from the inside out. They have created false realities that will be their undoing! Now, let justice fall.
I couldn’t deny any of these things. I knew, ultimately, there was nothing more I could say. It wasn’t my place to choose to believe for Tiamat. I could only give him reasons to stay.
Do what you were born to do, I said, after a long silence. It’s up to you to decide what that is.
There was nothing more for me to say. Quietus, I’m ready to leave.
CHAPTER TWENTY
AS QUIETUS FLEW ME BACK to Dragonspire, my heart was so heavy that it felt as if it were in my stomach. Neither of us said a word to the other, each lost in our own thoughts.
At last, I couldn’t stand the silence.
Why won’t he fight, Quietus?
It was a long time before she gave me an answer.
He’s been fighting his entire life, Anna. His spirit has been broken.
What do you mean? How did that happen?
My son was born during the golden age of the dragons. The Xenofold was strong, unspoiled, and we dragons flourished in the Red Wild, creating gardens around the world. As the Xenofold flourished, so did the human Elekai.
So, what happened? I asked.
Tiamat is right. The gifts of the Xenofold corrupted the hearts of men. They used their power to rule over those who did not have the blessings of the Xenofold, and they sought to keep those they called Bloodless from gaining the Xenofold’s favor. This happened several generations following the end of the Ragnarok War, so there was nothing you could have done, Anna, even if your prophecies predicted it.
I knew about all that. What I didn’t know was what it had to do with Tiamat.
Though the human Elekai were powerful, they were the minority, Quietus said. Even so, over the span of a human generation, Colonia expanded to the height of its power, ruling most of what was once known as the Wasteland. Though the empire was wealthy, the Elekai did not share in its bounty with the Bloodless. Seeking a better life elsewhere, these unfortunate souls fled to the Red Wild, hoping to find the power given to their masters. Most of them stayed, becoming the Wilder tribes you know today.
But the empire fragmented when the Bloodless realized their own power, and they overthrew their Elekai oppressors. The dragons were divided. Many did not wish to harbor the human Elekai in the Red Wild . . . and yet, the new Colonian regime was brutal, seeking vengeance for all the wrongs the Bloodless had suffered. Tiamat was among those who wished to save any who fled to the Red Wild.
And you?
Askal and I saved as many as we could . . . even if we knew by our prophecies, and by Anna’s, that admitting the humans into the Wild would be its undoing. But we could not ignore their pleas for help. Many of the dragons were against harboring the humans, believing their natures to be fallen. They warned that the humans would abuse their powers once again, if ever given the chance.
Which they did, first with Colonia, and then with Hyperborea. Perhaps the only reason the Elekai hadn’t done any further damage was due to the weakening of their Gifts.
There was peace for a time, Quietus said. The human Elekai formed the kingdoms of the Makai, the Annajen, and the Samalites. The latter of these founded the city of Hyperborea, the story of which you already know. It was Tiamat who led the Samalites there, and he wished to lead them further on to the Hollow, where they would be able to live in paradise. But the journey was hard, and the Samalites’ strength wavered near the end. In the end, they settled in Hyperborea, seeing that the land was plentiful. Tiamat knew that if they settled in the Crater, it could be the beginning of their undoing. But they did not heed Tiamat, and so he left them there, calling them faithless and
fickle. The towers of Hyperborea were grown as soon as the power of the Sea was tapped through the Xenofont. While they created many wonders, their power led, once again, to empire. Other kingdoms were subjugated, until Hyperborea’s reach extended from sea to sea. Maintaining that empire of vanity was too much for the Xenofold; it was against its nature. And so, the Sea weakened, both from overuse and its sensing of humanity’s ill-intent.
Even if I knew parts of the story, I’d never heard it as a cohesive whole. I waited for Quietus to continue.
Tiamat grew in bitterness when he saw the increasing corruption of the city. Worse, he blamed himself for causing the slow death of the Xenofold. It was his generosity, his goodness, that was spit upon by humanity. And it was thus in humanity’s lust for power that Odium of the Dark found his opening in the person of Rakhim Shal.
And now it might be too late, I finished.
Yes, Quietus said. It very well might.
Tiamat’s bitterness made sense considering Quietus’ words. I couldn’t imagine how it must have felt to give everything, to place such faith and trust in people, only to have that trust squandered.
I completely understood why Tiamat would not want to trust humanity again . . . why he didn’t want to trust even me. In his mind, he was just doing what he should have done the first time . . . let justice be served. Let the humans die, who were a cancer to the Xenofold.
* * *
When we got back to my friends, I dismounted Quietus and walked up to them. I spent the next few minutes explaining everything that had happened, including what Quietus had told me on the way back.
All of them were silent as they pondered what I said.
“So, what do we do?” Isa asked. “How many dragons will fight for us?”
“Fight with us,” I said. “And I don’t know. They still have to make their decisions. But I’d like to think I gave Tiamat something to think about.”
I meant every word back there, Quietus said. I mean to fight to the end, and so does Askal.