Dissolution

by Kyle West

  The only problem now was finding a reversion in this land that stretched for thousands of miles in all directions.

  I sought Silence and it readily entered my mind. I expanded my awareness in all directions. The Xenofold was still there, a shining light and connection. I couldn’t imagine life without it, even though most of my life, I had lived without it.

  It felt like a betrayal to be using the Xenofold to search for a reversion, when my intent was possibly to end it. I was using the Xenofold against itself.

  “North,” I said.

  Pallos veered Odin more northerly, while I maintained the connection and used it as a compass.

  In this way, we tracked north for another half hour before the Xenofold was nearly impossible to reach. My instinct was to get out of this place, but if that was my instinct, then I knew we were in the right place. No sane Elekai wanted to remain in a reversion longer than they had to.

  “Put us down,” I said. “I think we’re close enough.”

  While Pallos lowered the ship, I got on the intercom. “If you haven’t felt anything yet . . . then we should be here. I don’t know what we’ll find on the ground, and this probably goes without saying, but come armed and ready.”

  I sat back and watched as we plunged through the mist. I couldn’t see anything around the ship, and the radar wasn’t catching anything in the surrounding airspace.

  “Careful, Pallos,” I said. “Let’s make sure there’s ground beneath us before coming down too fast.”

  “Copy that,” Pallos said.

  The rest joined us in the flight deck – Isa, Shara, and Fiona, each armed with their weapons of choice. Isa had her bow around her shoulders, while Shara and Fiona were both wearing their swords.

  We watched tentatively as nothing changed out of the windshield. And then, suddenly, we were touching down. Isa nearly tripped, only catching herself on my seat.

  The mist had cleared on our landing spot, and was just now starting to crawl back.

  “So,” Shara said, “which way?”

  “I’m not sure,” I said. “The source of the reversion can’t be far from here. We’ll know as soon as we start walking.”

  “And what do we do if crawlers come?” Isa asked.

  I looked at her. “What we always do. We fight.”

  “Sounds good to me,” Shara said.

  We left Pallos behind, as usual, while the rest of us set out on foot into the thick mists. I was more nervous than usual leaving the ship with him, but there was nothing else to be done. Someone had to watch it, and he knew how to operate it in case there were incoming dragons. Nothing had showed up on Odin’s radar, but despite my shattered trust, Pallos still needed to remain with the ship.

  I turned in a circle, trying to determine a likely direction. The void emanating from the nearby reversion hit me in waves. The feeling came strongest from north – or at least, what I thought to be north.

  “This way, I think,” I said.

  “Whatever we’re looking for is in that direction,” Fiona said, confirming my hunch. “It’s the way I least want to go.”

  “Let’s get this over with,” I said. “For Isandru.”

  Those words were edifying enough for the others to follow behind me.

  I could see next to nothing in the mist. It settled cold on my skin. It should have been too cold outside for there to be a fog, but this place seemed to not follow any sort of natural law.

  As we proceeded over the flat, spongy xen, I’d never felt more despondent.

  “We’re almost there,” I said, to break the silence. “I can feel it.”

  “Or feel the lack of it,” Fiona said.

  A reversion was defined more by its lack of feeling than anything else. The surrounding xen and the plants that rose from it were dead, severed from the Xenofold. I got the feeling that this part of the Red Wild had been dead for years, and perhaps even decades.

  “This place has rotted a long time,” Fiona said. “Its state is far worse than the reversion that appeared next to the Sanctum.” There was a long silence. “I don’t think any amount of Agronomy could reconnect it to the Xenofold.”

  “Agronomy,” Shara said. “That’s one of the Gifts, isn’t it?”

  Fiona nodded, but didn’t elaborate.

  “I sense something up ahead,” I said.

  We picked up our speed, and sure enough, the land began to dip. We followed the incline down until the surrounding mist began to shimmer with a pinkish light. This had to be the source of the reversion.

  Before long, the ichor materialized from the mist, just a few feet in front of us. We stopped at the shoreline. We could only see about ten feet before even the ichor was lost, and all that was left was pink, glowing fog.

  We had arrived here so quickly, and I wasn’t ready to do what I’d come for.

  I sought Silence, reaching out to the ichor. I found a ready connection. I sensed great pain in the Xenofold, great weakness. It seemed to plead to me for healing.

  I’ll try, I said. There may be one last chance to save you. Give me that chance. I need to speak to Elekim.

  The connection between my mind and the pool strengthened. The others gasped and stood back as the surface of the ichor vibrated, sending out circles of ripples from its center. The liquid parted on two sides, as if held up by unseen walls. A long, shining corridor was revealed, at the end of which stood a bright light.

  Enter, a voice said in my head.

  I turned to the others. “Stay here. I’ll try to hurry back.”

  I walked forward before I had the chance to doubt myself, until I was surrounded by the fiery light.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  I STEPPED FROM ONE WORLD and into another. I could see nothing but an endless field of white.

  I couldn’t remember who I was and where I came from.

  Anna. My name is Anna.

  No, that wasn’t it. Was that me, or someone else?

  Alex. I had come here for Alex.

  “Alex? Are you here?”

  I felt a vibration in the air around me. My vision swam, as if a heat wave were rising off the white ground ahead. The dizzying waves slowly materialized into an image of a white tree shining with inner luminescence.

  I walked toward that tree. There was no sound here, not even from my footfalls on the shining white surface. I reached out with Silence toward the tree; though I felt a connection, there didn’t seem to be anything behind that connection.

  There was only silence.

  It was so empty here. If this was the interior of the Xenofold, then it was far different than the last time I had visited.

  Now closer to the tree, I could see that it was dying. Its sickliness had been masked by the aura shining off its bark. Only a few leaves remained, and its boughs drooped, lifeless.

  I reached out to see if I could somehow help it. I felt its life force, its connection to the Xenofold, but sensed little beyond its moribund consciousness. It took no life through its roots, and hung on by a mere thread.

  Is there any way to save you?

  My words didn’t find a recipient. I opened a conduit from myself to the tree, seeking the power of the Xenofold. If I could just channel the energy into the tree, perhaps I could save it. While I felt the power flowing through me, it was as if it were being poured into a bottomless abyss.

  I stopped before I could tire myself, opening my eyes to see the image of the tree unchanged before me. I turned in every direction, but there was nothing but the endless field of white.

  “What is this place?” I asked, my voice dying in the air.

  A gravelly voice responded. “This place is the end.”

  Startled, I turned to see an old man in a brown robe sitting on one of the tree’s roots. His bushy, gray beard fell halfway down his chest and his smile was missing a few teeth. White, glowing eyes shone from his wrinkled face. The smile seemed amused, or perhaps expectant.

  “Wanderer,” I said.

  The old man
gave the barest of nods to acknowledge this. “You’ve returned at long last, Anna. What is it you seek here?”

  “I’m looking for Alex.”

  The Wanderer’s wry grin faded. “Elekim . . . fights still. He fights against the encroaching waves of darkness. If he were to divert his attention, even for a moment . . .” The Wanderer trailed off, leaving the rest unsaid.

  “I understand,” I said. “I don’t know how it’s even possible, but it’s up to me to save the Xenofold.”

  The old man’s eyes widened, as if in surprise, before he broke into uncontrolled laughter. I could feel nothing but shock as he continued to laugh.

  “I suppose that came off as arrogant,” I said, as the last ebbs of his laughter faded while he wiped a tear from his eye. “Perhaps that’s impossible. Still, I’m at a loss. The Xenofold must be saved if the Radaskim are to be stopped, right?”

  The Wanderer grew more serious. “Yes. But that’s not why you’re here, is it?”

  How could he know the reason I was here? “I want answers more than anything else.”

  The Wanderer nodded, and then gestured all around. “Do you see this here, Anna? This is all that’s left. One by one, the memories that have made the Xenofold have faded.”

  “But I still feel a connection to it,” I objected. “It can’t all be gone.”

  “No, it isn’t all gone,” the Wanderer said. “But soon, it will be. And the part that gives you power with it.”

  I took a seat next to the Wanderer on the tree root. “Then . . . all this is pointless. There is nothing we can do to save it. What was the point of my . . . of Anna . . . coming back?”

  “Even Anna could not have prepared herself for this,” the Wanderer said.

  “But there must be something we can do!”

  The Wanderer was quiet for a very long time. I just waited, angry at him for not having the answer.

  “I’ve been searching for a solution to this for such a long time,” I said. “Pretty much ever since I found out who I was. For you to tell me that there is nothing we can do . . . it’s killing me.”

  “Anna,” the Wanderer said, gently. “This isn’t over yet.”

  “Then what can I do? I was told by Shen that the only way to destroy the Hyperfold is to destroy the Xenofold. But how could I ever do such a thing?”

  “Not destroy,” the Wanderer said. “The Xenofold would sacrifice itself to end the Hyperfold. With one, final push through the connection that bridges us to the Hyperfold, we might overwhelm the Hyperfold and destroy it from the inside.” The Wanderer looked at me, his face solemn. “The world would return to the way it was. What once was, will be.”

  I chewed on the Wander’s cryptic words. “Assuming this happened . . . assuming the Hyperfold was stopped and the Xenofold died in the process . . . I would lose my powers, and so would every other Elekai. Including the dragons, who would revert to their mindless state. Even if we could rid Earth of the Radaskim, they are still out there, in space. So long as they are out there, our world can never be free of them.”

  “The world can be vigilant of them,” the Wanderer said. “The Xenofold is too weak to protect the Elekai now. Too weak to protect humanity. The old ways are dying, Anna. They have been dying since the age of Hyperborea, but truly, since the fall of Old Colonia. Hyperborea only accelerated what would, one day, become inevitable.”

  “What do you mean?”

  The Wanderer smiled sadly. “This is not our home, Anna. The xen may survive here for a time . . . millennia, even, given near-perfect conditions. Even the Radaskim cannot survive forever on their newly conquered worlds, which is one of the reasons they must always expand. Unfortunately, we Elekai are the same. Earth was our experiment, our test. After four centuries here, we, too, shall become wanderers of the cosmos. We, too, must leave this place and find a new home.”

  “Tiamat is right, then,” I said. “This place isn’t the Elekai’s home.”

  “The coming of Gifts to humanity was an extraordinary occurrence,” the Wanderer said, “and a necessary one. Without those Gifts, Askala and the Radaskim could never have been defeated. But they had no place in the world after the war, and given human proclivities to corruption, the Gifts became the curses.”

  It was eerie how much the Wanderer’s words mirrored Shen’s, and mirrored Tiamat’s. It was as if they were the same person.

  The Wanderer continued. “The Gifts led to Hyperborea, and the quickening of the Xenofold’s death.”

  The Wanderer’s words struck a sad chord, more so because they rang true. “But what is our world without the Xenofold? There’s no going back to who we were. Is there?”

  My words were more Anna’s than my own. Only she knew a world without the Xenofold. I had known no other.

  “No,” the Wanderer agreed. The old man cleared his throat. “Of course, you would come with us.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The great journey,” the Wanderer said. “The long sleep, until we find our new home.”

  “I don’t know about that,” I said.

  “When we leave . . . so will Anna,” the Wanderer said. “As will all things that belong to the Elekai.”

  “What do you mean, Anna will leave?” I asked. “You mean, it would be like what Tiamat was telling me. It’s possible to leave this world?”

  “Yes,” the Wanderer said. “It is . . . spiritual more than physical. But we will have a new home, somewhere out there. At least, until it is time to find a new one. The Elekai have been preserved for a time. We won the battle here, and now we have our right to exist. So long as we find a new world, there will be peace on that world. We will not repeat the tragedy of Earth, but keep it as a safe garden that even the Radaskim cannot trample. We tried to make Earth our Eden.” The Wanderer chuckled. “But there’s been too much pain and misery on Earth. Too many ghosts. Too much blood. Perhaps finding Eden is possible with a fresh slate.”

  I didn’t know how these things could be, but all the same, I knew them to be true. Anna would go, leaving me just as myself, without my powers, and without the stranger in my mind.

  “Tiamat is right, then,” I said. “There’s little point in fighting. But if the Elekai leave this world, like you’re saying, what would happen to Shanti?”

  I wondered why I didn’t just say “me.” In this place, I supposed I was more Anna than I was myself.

  “Shanti will fight,” the Wanderer said. “I can say no more than that. Perhaps she will win. Perhaps not.”

  “You mean Shanti will die, along with the rest.”

  “That was to be our fate back then,” the Wanderer said. “Some of us did die, and some of us lived, against all odds. Even I cannot predict the future. The future is full of surprises.”

  I closed my eyes and let myself sink into Silence. I felt for the Xenofold, that connection that seemed to define who I was. Who was I without it? Who were any of the Elekai without it? How could we live in a world without the Xenofold, without the Red Wild, without our powers?

  But if that sacrifice was the only way to stop the Hyperfold from consuming us all, and the only way to save Isaru . . .

  I pushed all thoughts from my mind to enter a deep trance. I focused on the tree, waiting for some sign or message from Elekim, should he choose to provide one. Though he fought to keep the Xenofold alive, perhaps he would have the chance to visit me and point me the right way.

  * * *

  In my trance, the tree slipped away, and the Wanderer was gone. I found myself floating as one floats from one dream to another.

  Alex . . . can you hear me?

  There was no response.

  Alex . . . I need you. We need you.

  Suddenly, I opened my eyes and found myself on a wide, desert plain. The sun beat fiercely down on my brow. I raised a hand to my eyes to shield them from the sun.

  Ahead, materializing from the shimmering heat, a figure walked toward me.

  I walked toward the figure, too, and then
ran ahead to catch it, but as I got closer, the figure bled into the surrounding desert. It was just a mirage of my own imagining.

  “Alex?” I called.

  “Alex isn’t here.”

  I turned to see no one other than Isaru. I reached for my blade, but found that it wasn’t there.

  He smiled knowingly. “You won’t need that here. In this place, I can’t harm you.”

  “You’re real,” I said. “Right?”

  “I’m a preserved memory of myself,” he said. “Isaru before he was possessed by Rakhim. I entered the Xenofold through the connection you forged to the Hyperfold, from when you entered it for the first time. I’ve been here ever since.” He squinted at something in the distance behind me. “Let’s find some shade. I have a feeling we have a lot to discuss.”

  Confused, I followed him, wondering if all this was even real or merely a vision. This preservation of Isaru had been here the entire time? I had nothing but questions as we walked, the desert heat baking my skin. We entered the shade of a nearby mesa, where we sat on some rocks.

  “So, you’re really Isaru,” I said.

  “Yes. I don’t know what happened after the Hyperfold. After . . .” He shuddered. “I don’t want to think of what it felt like, when my body was stolen from me.”

  “Then don’t,” I said. I was having trouble thinking of him as real, and was wary of any sort of trick. Yet I wanted to believe that this was Isaru, the same one I’d journeyed with to Hyperborea all those months ago.

  “You’ve come from the outside,” Isaru said. “I figured you would, someday, either of your own will, or because you’ve . . . well, died.”

  I shook my head fiercely. “No, I’m not dead.”

  “Then you’ve come for a reason,” Isaru said. “To find me, perhaps. To free me.” He shook his head. “I’m afraid that’s impossible . . . not unless you were to somehow destroy the Hyperfold and get my body connected to the Xenofold again.” He paused to think. “Sometimes, I have dreams here. I dream of what I do up there, and I wake in a cold sweat . . .”