by Kyle West
We ran faster than what seemed possible back to the Odin. The ship was thankfully there, apparently when Pallos realized the Annajen dragonriders weren’t going to be a threat.
Pallos was surprised to see us come on board, and even more surprised to see who we carried.
“Odium has fled him,” I said. “He apparently gave him up in the same way he gave up Haris and Rakhim.” I didn’t have time to question just why; now, it was a race against time. “We have to find a reversion as quickly as possible if there’s to be a chance of healing him.”
Pallos blinked in surprise, but didn’t ask any questions. “There is the one we just left to the north.”
I was about to agree, but then shook my head. “No. The one by Dragonspire is closer. If only by a few minutes.”
A few minutes could be enough to make the difference between life and death.
“I’ll take off immediately,” Pallos said.
I laid Isaru on the deck below, feeling that having him lie in a wider, open area would be more useful than my cabin. Everyone could stand watch here, on the off chance that all of this was a trick. But for whatever reason, I felt as if Odium had truly abandoned Isaru.
“Why?” Shara asked, speaking the question that all of us were wondering. “Why did Odium give him up to us?”
All of us quietly pondered the question, but no one spoke immediately.
Isa was the first. “There’s no way of knowing. If we can save him, then does the reason matter?”
“The reason always matters,” Shara said. “Not that I don’t want to save him. It just seems . . . altogether easy and convenient.”
All watched on in silence. Isa knelt as Odin lifted off, grabbing Isaru by the hand.
“It’s cold,” she said. “I’ll get him a blanket.”
She went to my cabin and brought back a blanket, and spread it over him. We stood ringed around him in silence.
“Perhaps we can reach out to him,” Shara said. “Maybe it’ll help him hold on a little while longer.”
I agreed. “We can’t heal him here. But maybe it would be enough to give him some strength.”
So, we reached out to him, forming a bond that connected us all. I took the lead in the bond. On the other end of that bond, Isaru’s end, there was only an uncomfortable void, a lack of consciousness.
Somehow, his heart was beating on, though as time drew on, I noticed that beat was weakening.
Isa seemed to notice, too, because her face was strewn with tears, while Fiona’s face seemed grieved, as if she was already fearing the worst.
I don’t know how much time passed like that, but before long, the ship shifted its trajectory downward, and we landed with soft thud. Quickly, we lifted Isaru from the deck and went for the door, which opened upon the same ichor lake the dragons had gathered around just a few days before.
Now, the lake was deserted, and there was no sign of the dragons’ whereabouts.
“He’s weak,” I said. “We have to hurry.”
Just as we were carrying him down the ramp, I noticed something within the connection we held to Isaru.
His heart had stopped.
Within half a minute, I was dragging Isaru alone into the lake. I swam, pulling him out with me with all my strength. The ichor glowed around us, sensing my power, but as of now, that power was latent and waiting.
I didn’t call it yet.
Disconnect from me, I thought, into everyone’s head. This will require a lot of power . . . power that could destroy you.
But none of them would let go.
Isaru is our friend, too, Fiona said. Though our power is as nothing next to yours, even joined . . . it’s still something.
Fiona . . .
I realized then that my arguments were futile. I could not sever them from the bond; that had to be done voluntarily.
So be it. Ready yourselves.
All of them closed their eyes, and the last thing I heard before the torrent took me was them crying out in shock, and perhaps even pain.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
I FOUND MYSELF IN THE desert again, right in the spot where I’d left Isaru. He was still sitting with his back against the rock in the shade of the mesa, as if he hadn’t changed positions in all the time I was gone.
At my sudden appearance, his eyes widened a bit. I assumed from his perspective, I had just appeared out of thin air.
“Back already?”
“I have your body in an ichor lake above,” I said, reaching out my hand. “It’s time to get you out of here.”
He looked at me, unbelieving, as if trying to decide if I were an apparition.
“Isaru.” I extended my hand further. “There isn’t time.”
“No,” he said. “There isn’t.” He took my hand. “Let’s hope we both make it out on the other end alive.”
I felt the power of the Xenofold flowing from my hand into his, and within an instant, the desert disappeared and we were following the tether that connected the Xenofold to the outside world. The Xenofold roared through me like a storm, and it felt as if I were burning inside the sun. I directed all that energy into the connection on which we were traveling, a distance which seemed infinite. Time crawled as we surged toward the light above, which marked the exit from this place.
And then, there was a snap, followed by a sea of pink flooding my eyes. Isaru floated there, too, the entirety of his body glowing with luminescence.
When I surfaced, I drew a deep breath and pulled his form from the ichor toward the shoreline, where everyone was waiting.
“Isaru!” Isa called.
“He’s still unconscious,” Fiona said.
I pulled myself out of the ichor, along with Isaru, laying him on the shoreline, naked as the day he was born. Embarrassed, Shara covered him with the blanket she had wisely thought to bring with us. His eyes were closed, and his silver hair outspread, while the ichor lapped gently at his feet.
Fearing the worst, I reached into his mind.
Isaru? Are you there?
There was no answer, not even a feeling that he could be there.
“Please Isaru, wake up . . .” Isa said.
His eyes remained closed, and his face empty of expression. There was no breathing, no heartbeat, no thoughts.
I reached inside his mind, channeling all the power I could into him.
Wake up! I know you’re in there!
His body began to glow, as it had when we first returned to the real world. I pushed with everything I had, my hands grasping each of his arms, until there was nothing left. No power. I fell to my knees, on the cusp of passing out.
Was it enough?
Just when I began to believe it was over, his eyes began to flutter.
Isa gasped. “Isaru!”
“He’s waking up!” Fiona said.
Shara came to support me, because I was on the verge of falling. But I broke into a smile when Isaru started coughing, expelling ichor and phlegm from his mouth, while drawing a series of deep breaths.
“Breathe,” Fiona said. “Just breathe. You’re safe. You’re with us, now.”
Isa was in tears, holding his hand, while Isaru came to. His eyes were on me. Those were his eyes – gray, inquisitive, fully himself.
“Welcome back,” I said.
It was all I could manage before I blacked out.
* * *
When I came to, I was resting on my back against the xen. I opened my eyes to see the others’ faces above me, all of them conferring softly. I couldn’t make out what was being said, until Fiona’s voice broke through above the rest.
“She’s awake,” Fiona said, and then on cue, every face turned to look at me.
“How are you feeling?” Isaru asked, now fully dressed in some of Pallos’ clothes.
I blinked, feeling as if I were in a dream. “This is real, right?”
“Yes,” Isaru said. “Of course it is. But you are greatly weakened. We kept you here by the lake, thinking its power would
help to restore you. Even Elekim has her limits, it seems.”
The sentence sounded strange coming from his mouth. Apparently, there had been enough time for the others to give him that bit of information.
It was then that I realized that I wasn’t exactly on the xen; a few inches of warm, pink ichor surrounded me, its healing power flowing into my skin.
“Such exposure would be death for any of us,” Fiona said.
It hadn’t killed Isaru, though. Had it been because I was protecting him?
“No,” I said. “Any of you can enter without fear.”
This statement made everyone go quiet.
“If you are Elekim,” Isa said, “then I don’t doubt that.”
Isaru looked away, his gray eyes becoming distant. They still glowed with residual traces of the ichor he had previously been immersed in.
“How are you feeling, Isaru?” I asked.
“Me?” He chuckled softly. “What about you?”
“I feel fine, now,” I said, sitting up. The others helped me to stand on my own two feet. I nodded my thanks.
“I want to hear about you,” I continued. “Do you feel fully yourself?”
Isaru frowned as he considered. “My thoughts are scattered. It feels as if I’m more used to being dead than alive. I’m . . . conflicted about who I really am. I can still remember bits of it, being controlled by Rakhim, and then by Odium. I was never fully privy to their plans, but I saw enough of it. But I will reveal what I know as clearly as I can.”
“What is he planning?” I asked.
“The invasion is still coming,” Isaru said. “Xenofall . . . in the full sense of that word . . . is still coming. It will be here any moment. We must destroy the Hyperfold from the inside, and I know just how to do it.”
“How?” I asked.
“The answer will not seem to make sense at first. But now is the time to end it all, to give humanity its last hope against the coming storm.” Isaru turned around, looking at us all. “We need to order Rakhim to destroy the Hyperfold. He has the power and the ability to do so.”
“Why would he destroy his own creation?” Shara asked.
“I don’t know if he will,” Isaru admitted. “But he has been abandoned by Odium . . . just as I was. Odium no longer has a foothold in our world. That can only mean one thing. He can’t control us all with the Hyperfold, as weak as it is. That’s why he gave me up. It was a long shot, trying to kill you with the Hyperfold so weak, but he was already losing control of his Mindless dragons . . . the ones he gave to me. Already, they’re causing mayhem in Colonia.”
Already, Isandru’s, and now Alex’s work, was having real effects. Odium’s control was slipping. Something finally seemed to be working in our favor, and now we even had Isaru back.
“He might be convinced to end the Hyperfold for good,” Isaru said. “Either Shal destroys it, or else he exists in a barren wasteland for eternity.”
As did Alex, I realized. If Alex ever left the Hyperfold, then it gave Rakhim a chance to rebuild.
“I don’t know what direction to take,” I said. “All I can think to do for now is return to Haven.” I looked at Isaru. “You must end the war now.”
Isaru nodded. “The war is as good as over. As I said, the dragons were beginning to slip from Odium’s control when he commanded me to go to Haven and fight you. The Annajen army is at their mercy, along with the city. Many will die if we do nothing to stop their rampage. There is the question of just how to do it.”
“Do you remember everything that happened while he controlled you?” Shara asked. “Do you remember what happened to your father?”
Isaru’s body seemed to go stiff. “My father . . .” He went quiet and somber, his expression pale and pained. “I remember it having happened. I don’t remember doing it. I think I might have blocked it.”
He turned from us until his face was completely hidden.
“Isaru?” I asked.
“I . . .” He trailed off, unsure of how to proceed. “He’s gone, then. Really gone.”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “We know it wasn’t you who did it.”
“I need some time alone,” he said. “All of this is so overwhelming.”
“Of course,” I said. “Take all the time you need. Just know that we’re here.”
I waved everyone back to the ship. After everyone had boarded, I turned back to see Isaru standing alone beside the lake under a sky full of stars. There he knelt, his shoulders shaking with sobs.
CHAPTER FORTY
IT WAS SOME TIME LATER, perhaps an hour, before Isaru boarded the Odin. He gave no sign of surprise at the ship. He must have remembered it from his time spent under Odium’s possession, or perhaps his mind was too distracted to concern himself with such trivialities.
“Can I get you anything?” Shara asked. “Food, tea?”
Isaru shook his head. “I’m not hungry.” He sat at the table, and then clenched his right fist. “I feel . . . weak. My body doesn’t feel the same as it once did.” He frowned. “Either that, or I feel weak compared to who I was with the power of the Hyperfold.”
“You’re back,” Isa said as she sat across from him. “That’s all that matters.”
“I’m glad to be back,” Isaru said. “Though I’m a different person than before. I feel . . . sad. Alone. Like a villain.”
“You aren’t a villain,” I said. “We understand that you went through hell. The way it happened was all a mistake.”
“Ever since that day when we went into the Hyperfold for the first time, I’ve been two different people. Who I was before, and who I became. The former self . . . the version of me you know . . . became trapped in the Xenofold when I crossed the bridge. I had no body to return to . . . that space was occupied by Rakhim, who used my thoughts and memories to directly touch the world, something he hadn’t been able to do since he himself had entered the Hyperfold all those years ago.”
“What did you do in the Xenofold?” Shara asked.
“Very little,” Isaru said. “Endless thinking. There was no sleep. There were no people. I wandered a version of our world, like ours in every respect aside from the fact that I was the only one walking in it. I walked alone until Shanti came. I didn’t dare hope that she could free me, but . . .” He then looked at me, forcing a smile, a smile that was trying to make the best of things, but still felt pain all the same. “Shanti proved me wrong. Rakhim Shal is no more . . . at least in my body.”
“Alex is keeping him from hurting anyone else,” I said. “He said his being there was the only way to keep Rakhim from causing further trouble.”
“That’s true,” Isaru said. “But it’s also . . . problematic.”
“Problematic, how?” Fiona asked.
We all waited for Isaru to answer. He appeared to be thinking.
“If the Hyperfold ends, it also means his end.”
“He didn’t speak that way,” I said. “He said that he would find a new world, along with the rest of the Elekai, if the Hyperfold were to end.”
“Yes,” Isaru said. “That’s exactly what I meant.”
“What do you suggest we do, then?” Shara asked. “You said earlier that we can’t destroy the Hyperfold unless we convince Rakhim to do it.”
I could see no solution, no solution at all, and the fact that the second Xenofall was still coming . . . a physical invasion of the Radaskim led by Odium himself . . . made finding an answer even more important.
“Forgive me,” Isaru said, standing without looking at any of us. “I’m . . . very tired. I need some space.”
Without saying anything else, he headed into the rear of the ship.
“Excuse me,” I said, standing and going after him.
* * *
Looking into each of the two cabins on my left, I could see that he wasn’t there, nor was he in the lavatory. That left only the engine room. I found him sitting there on the metal-grated deck, facing the fusion core. He was eerily quiet.
&n
bsp; “Isaru?”
He turned suddenly, and I saw tears on his face. “I need space, Shanti.”
I tensed at those words, and felt the hurt from them. Something told me to stand my ground, though. “Isaru . . . I have no idea what you’re going through. If I could have saved you from all this, you know I would have.”
Isaru remained silent, wiping his face and not meeting my eyes.
“We’ve been through so much together, Isaru. From you rescuing me, setting in motion everything that’s happened, until now. Everything that happened after you entered the Hyperfold was a horrible, cruel mistake. You were used Isaru. All those things you did . . . none of that was you.”
“I no longer know the difference,” Isaru said. “At the time, it felt as if it were me. It felt as if I was the one who buried the blade in Mia’s back, the one who razed Atlantea to the ground, the one who murdered my own father . . .”
He broke down here, his whole body shaking. He was going through so much pain that I knew there was little I could do to stop it.
I stepped forward and knelt beside him, taking his hand and holding it. He only started crying more pitifully, letting out all the grief he couldn’t in those few months he had lived as Rakhim’s slave.
“I don’t want to do this anymore,” he managed, finally. “I can’t live in this world anymore.”
“Stop talking like that,” I said. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”
“I have to give back somehow,” he said. “For all the horrible things I’ve done . . . only I don’t know how.”
“Things not committed by you,” I said. “It’s not your fault, Isaru. None of it is.”
“I know,” Isaru said. “I know, and in my mind, it doesn’t matter. More than that, to the world, it won’t matter.”
“I know it doesn’t make sense, Isaru. Evil is a senseless thing. You’re allowed to feel grief . . . for your father, for Mia, for anyone who died because of others’ evil. But that evil was not your own, Isaru. None of us here believed you had truly become a monster. All of us believed you were still there, ready to be freed. We didn’t know how that was going to happen, but we kept faith all the same. And look. You’re back, now.”