Origins of Hope

by Anastasia Drapievsky

  “The galaxy excuses the younger species for many minor infractions… most of the time, of course,” Mato sighed with sadness. The Ascendancy wasn’t as forgiving as the GA and the Independent Nations, and the Kath’laka were the newest species in The Ascendancy. The Ascendancy’s militaristic penalties were heavy for any mistakes the Kath’laka committed, and the Kath’laka made many. “However, there is nothing wrong with being young and ‘new’; it is a learning period, and most of the older species forget that even as powerful as they are, they can still learn new things.”

  “Like the Tial?” Xenith asked, naming one of the three foundation species, the other two being The Omni and the Vhent.

  “Hm. I like to think they got bored, and that’s why they left the galaxy,” Mato stated thoughtfully. “They were explorers and staying in one place made them restless. Reminds me of a few people,” he said, winking.

  “Yeah, yeah,” Xenith muttered. Mato’s mention of ‘left the galaxy’ made Xenith recall the Milky Way, which reminded him of his odd experience at his graduation ceremony.

  Before he could say anything, Mato took a deep breath and exhaled, slowly blinking at him. “The Purpose,” he said. “You wanted to discuss it, and why you felt the six people that you did in the way that you did.”

  “How’d you—” Xenith gaped at him, then closed his mouth. As much as Mato dismissed the importance of being a clairvoyant since the future always changed, Mato got some things right. “Sorry; stupid question.”

  “Not stupid at all, but yes, I foresaw this,” Mato confirmed.

  Xenith pressed his lips together in a thin line. Mato took his role as a mentor and guide seriously, but to admit his abilities when he usually downplayed them meant that whatever Xenith had experienced was more important than he initially realized. “So… what does it mean? Do you know?”

  Mato continued to look at him, and Xenith sensed nothing from him. Xenith didn’t want to be rude and worm into Mato’s mind, but even then Mato had his powerful mental barrier that could stop everything but a true omniscient telepath. “I do, but I can’t answer to all of it or give any hints. Is that clear?”

  Xenith gulped, nodding.

  “Very good.” Mato resettled his legs, leaning on his two lower hands on his knees while his two upper stroked the fur on his chin. “I say that, but my interpretation could be potentially different from the truth, or different from what I foresaw. Please tell me what your ‘vision’ was, including the pinpricks.”

  Xenith recounted his vision, trying not to leave any detail out. Mato’s face looked calm, though his frown deepened. Xenith now felt the strong barriers erected in Mato’s mind, and that scared him. Xenith had no desire to know what people thought—especially without permission—but to have Mato guard strongly against him made him shiver.

  Once Xenith finished, Mato stayed silent for a moment, sighing with his eyes downcast. It almost sounded defeated, but when Mato lifted his head, he held a gentle but optimistic smile. “It almost sounds like the old human version of the Reiteration.”

  “The Big Bang Theory? “

  “Yes,” Mato nodded. “Most humans like to have visuals to understand things; perhaps that visual is supposed to mean something.”

  “You don’t know?” Xenith asked.

  Mato merely smiled at him.

  Ugh, he does, but can’t tell me. “OK, so what about the people?” Xenith suggested. “I know you, Tok, and Qi are the people closest to me, and I can understand why Zander would be there… but the others?” Xenith gave a bewildered shrug with hands in the air. “No clue. I barely know Krian Hekla even though she is nice, but I don’t even like—I mean, I know Lelich Syvwkh even less,” Xenith quickly remedied.

  Mato still caught it. “Xenith, I know you’re not very fond of Lelich Syvwkh,” he sighed in his stern lecture voice. “And I am aware few people are. However, as boastful as he can be, Lelich Syvwkh earned his way onto the Council fairly. People can say what they like with their friends, but unless he has done something that harms Aorírdal, you are to make sure you respect Lelich Syvwkh otherwise. Understood?”

  Xenith hung his head down, nodding. “Sorry. Won’t happen again.”

  “That said, and I am not suggesting this will occur,” Mato kept his stern voice as Xenith lifted his head, “if someone of higher authority does intentionally commit harm, do not let their authority stop you. Every species has examples of complacency that had severe repercussions. It can be difficult, but between complacency and doing the right thing, always choose to do what is right.”

  Xenith nodded, looking him in the eyes and blinking slowly to let him know that he understood and took him seriously.

  “Good.” Mato looked reassured as he leaned back into his pillow. “Anyway, back to why you felt the presence of those two? I believe you already figured out that they are connected to your purpose.”

  “Which is….?” Xenith leaned forward eagerly.

  Mato merely smiled. “I can’t tell you.”

  Xenith almost face planted into the floor. “Not even one hint?!—Wait, ok sorry, no you can’t give it,” he stammered, not wanting another lecture. “It’s just—I’m frustrated. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do, even before that really confusing… vision thing The Enduring gave. The Reiteration, people being represented by galaxies formed by it—maybe? —with those six particular people? I have no idea. Am I supposed to just keep it in mind, or…?”

  Mato chuckled, shaking his head. “I’m not laughing at you, Xenith,” he said as Xenith scowled at him. “I had the same reaction you did when The Enduring performed The Purpose when several others and I became Leliches.”

  Xenith drew back. “You went through it?”

  “I went through it… this is the fifth time, I believe,” Mato said, pausing for a moment and ticking off fingers. “The first two times were lovely experiences, and I got to ‘see’ my family; I had foreseen both events and was overconfident for the time when I became a Lelich about what I would see next, and let me tell you… I was very, very wrong.”

  “What did you see?” Xenith asked before he could stop himself.

  A look of regret and fear flashed through Mato’s eyes. “It wasn’t… a very pleasant vision, and one that I would never wish on anyone. This isn’t the best time, but I will tell you, eventually.”

  I’m not sure if I want to know now. “Tok didn’t have a good experience either. He said he saw or felt something right next to us…”

  “Which I will talk to him about it, and will try to ease his concerns. However, there isn’t a monster like that roaming Aorírdal’s halls.” Mato nodded in reassurance, and Xenith sighed in relief, as silly as it was being worried about an unforeseen monster. “The point is, The Enduring shows us what we need to see, when we need to see it. He makes sure the Melyn and younger apprentices have good experiences so they are not scared, and he shows nothing that will mentally scar someone for life; perhaps an initial shock, but never to break one’s mind.”

  “Is he a clairvoyant?” Xenith asked.

  Mato moved his head to the side, scratching his furry cheek. “… Not in the way us vertebrates see it, no. He can control the younger one’s vision to fine tune it due to their age; their range of possibilities are ‘limited’ since they are actively guided and rely on being guided. Adults, however, are difficult to control, if at all,” Mato paused. “The best way I can describe it—since I am not entirely sure since The Omni are just that different—is that I have access to the Rivers of Time. There, I can see all the possibilities and futures, and some come stronger than others. Sometimes the river seeks me rather than I seek it, though it is rare.

  “The Enduring also has access to the Rivers of Time, but it does not see the Rivers as I do; rather, The Enduring is a catalyst, linking everyone’s mind to its own, then connecting their minds to their own River in Time.”

  Xenith’s jaw dropped. “Holy sh—”

  “Incredible, I know,” Mato interr
upted, laughing. “Makes my ability seem paltry, but The Enduring is one of the most alien and powerful beings here, and certainly one of the more unique in Aorírdal’s history. However, because of the way The Enduring’s mind works, you wouldn’t see The Rivers of Time as you ordinarily see as a human. Human clairvoyants see the events visually and precisely—Kath’laka and Jareshi do as well—whereas the Iaiedal would feel the events, the Chilao and Guanghial hear music, so on and so forth. The connection that The Enduring provides doesn’t translate well for other species, so people make sense of their River in many ways.”

  Xenith hesitated. “So, it being called ‘The Purpose’; does that mean The Enduring somehow knows what our purpose is and acts like a catalyst for us to see it?”

  Mato turned his head again, his eyes narrowing in thought. “That is a little unclear. The dominant Omni culture sees things more fatalistically and ‘black and white’, whereas most other species do not. What The Enduring showed could be something related to a very important event or important people, as you yourself experienced,” he gestured to Xenith. “Everyone has a purpose, but whether it be their primary—or one of many primaries—or a secondary purpose depends on their actions.”

  Xenith scratched his head, deeply frowning. “Is there a possibility what The Enduring shows could be wrong?”

  “It depends on the interpretation, but yes, it is possible. However, I allow The Enduring to show its vision because of two reasons, that are admittedly contradictory. One: The Enduring showcases the strongest ‘river’ in someone’s immediate timeline. That means it is thus far the most likely outcome of that person’s future. Two: That outcome can still change. The ‘visions’ are vague enough to serve as a warning while showing nothing explicit.”

  Xenith’s eyes strayed to the Tyli Nebula behind Mato, small orbs of white light dotting the blue and green gasses. “I wonder if that is what mine is…” Though saying it aloud didn’t sound right; if anything, Nentok’s experience sounded more like a warning than anything. That made Xenith more worried. “Or…. I dunno. I have to think about it.”

  “Don’t dwell on it too deeply; else it will be hard to think about anything else.” Mato sighed heavily as he straightened and hauled himself up. “I’m in the mind for some tea; would you care for some?”

  “Yeah, thanks,” Xenith replied, and Mato turned for his desk, already knowing Xenith’s favorites. Xenith’s eyes returned to the nebula as Mato busied himself getting tea packets, going over the Reiteration Theory in his mind, and growing a headache when he couldn’t make sense of it. Maybe Qi and Tok can—

  He paused. Nentok’s vision. Xenith had not told Mato of Nentok’s experience; how did Mato know of the creature that scared them, if not from clairvoyance? Shifting his gaze to the side, Xenith chastised himself. Mato had visions about everything, from important events to next year’s breakfast. Mato once lamented to Xenith that he had experienced a full hour of a boring Lelich meeting a month before it happened. Just because Mato foresaw Nentok’s vision didn’t mean the creature Nentok saw was real and present.

  And yet, as Xenith stared at Mato, who hummed happily as he steeped loose-leaf tea in steaming water, Xenith wondered just how much the Prior hid.

  Ten

  “Bye Quath! Bye Efrik!” Zander called, waving to his friends as they headed down the hall to their next class. Krian Delka ushered the lined-up kids into their classroom as older students rushed by to get to their own classes.

  “Tell Prior Mato that you need us there!” Quath the Kath’laka called down the hall. “We can help!”

  “Yeah, we want to get out of class too!” Efrik the Rym shouted, ignoring Krian Delka’s frown. “Sensing flowers is boring!

  “Hey, my class isn’t that boring,” Krian Delka said, and the other students giggled as Efrik scowled.

  Truthfully, Zander wouldn’t have minded his friends coming along. He had no idea why Prior Mato wanted to see him, and he hoped he wasn’t in trouble. While he didn’t steal any class datapads after Efrik dared him to, he still felt guilty. He gave another wave to his friends and headed for the atrium.

  The atrium buzzed with thirty caretakers, all of them running between the large planters or attaching lighting from the balconies. The previous cacti had been carefully extracted and shipped back to Nevar and other homeworlds once the new forest theme had been chosen. Gardeners lifted saplings into the planters while others slowly coaxed the planted ones to grow. Zander stared upward at the lighting techs, his eyes catching the ceiling window of the nebula, and made his way to the lifts.

  He had been up in the Council wing once before, and while he didn’t remember it well, he had not liked it much. The corridor looked shorter now compared to the seemingly endless hallway he initially remembered, and brighter… but boring. If Zander was Prior, scenes of T-Rexes battling Pterodactyl-riding Raptors with laser beams would be splashed all over the walls.

  Prior Mato’s doors opened automatically before Zander even announced himself. Zander’s eyes went wide as he beheld the large room, with pillows in the middle and the huge window at the back. With a slight pang, he realized that Celes would kill for this kind of view.

  Prior Mato stood up from the comfortable-looking couch against the wall, setting aside a datapad and smiling warmly to Zander. “Hello, Zander, come on in."

  “Hello, Prior Mato,” Zander replied, obeying him and coming inside, trying not to think of the datapad-stealing dare.

  “You can call me Mato, Zander,” Prior Mato said, gesturing for him to sit on the pillows with a basket of toys nearby. “You can play with these if you like.”

  Zander blinked, a little confused as he sat opposite from the Prior on a big red pillow, glancing to the toy basket and choosing a puzzle box. “My teachers said we had to call you ‘Prior’.”

  “Oh dear,” Prior Mato sighed heavily, scratching his cheek. “While you should listen to your teachers, you don’t have to add ‘Prior’. ‘Prior Matoskah’ is a little too long and fancy, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah,” Zander said, smiling. “It sounds cool though!”

  “Thank you,” Prior Mato bowed his head to Zander. “Everyone has a unique name.”

  Zander nodded in agreement, fiddling with the puzzle box. “What about The Enduring… why is it called that?”

  Mato looked a little pleased that they had broached that subject. “The Omni are… very proud of their culture and like to have names that translate easily. ‘Enduring’ means the same thing—mostly—in all of our languages. Also, it is very old.”

  “I heard it was almost six thousand years old!” Zander said, his eyes lighting up. “I didn’t know The Omni could live that long!”

  “It isn’t often that they do, but they can live longer sometimes. The longest Omni to ever live was twelve thousand years, so not half bad for The Enduring,” Mato chuckled. “Speaking of which, I wanted to talk to you about the Progression ceremony.”

  “One that happened last week?” Zander asked, and at Mato’s nod he furrowed his brow. His class had been grouped together when The Enduring had done something weird to all of them; at least, the other kids found it weird, seeing visions or feeling odd emotions—Quath smelled a lot of strange things and Ximn heard music. They had tried to ask their teachers about it, and the teachers said that Prior Mato would talk to them about it. “Where people saw things… or smelled or heard them?”

  Mato chuckled. “The Kath’laka have a strong sense of smell, and sometimes will smell people instead of seeing them during The Purpose. Certain species, like the Chilao and Guanghial, will hear things instead. Your friends heard and smelled something?” When Zander nodded, Mato pressed on. “I wanted to check in with you to see how you were and if you had any questions about it. I haven’t been able to speak to you one on one for a while.”

  “Oh,” Zander said, scratching his head. “I had a couple of questions, if that’s OK…”

  Mato nodded, still smiling, so Zander continued. “So, the o
ther kids all saw something—or smelled something. Quath said he smelled people he didn’t know, while Efrik said he saw his family but in the middle of space. Benca said she saw many people cheering for someone in the middle of somewhere with a nebula high in the sky, but he was a bad guy, or something. Ximn heard music, but there was something creepy in it. I didn’t have anything like that.”

  “But you experienced something.”

  Zander swallowed, nervous now. If Mato knew about this without Zander telling him, what else could he know about? “Uhm, yeah,” he said, glancing away and rotating the toy box’s top block. “But uh, I don’t know if my teachers told you? I can sense things that we can’t see?”

  “A form of clairsentience, yes,” Mato nodded. “You can ‘feel’ something deeper than what most people can feel when they touch something.”

  “Uh huh,” Zander said, scratching his neck. “People can feel wiggly, like the body is doing this,” he shook his limbs and waved his body around to demonstrate, “and plants do that too. Everything does it. But during The Purpose thing, everyone kinda…” he frowned, wondering how he could describe it. “Everyone wiggled together and I could see it; I could only feel it, most of the time. And there was a rope that was almost invisible going through all of them. Usually everyone wiggles in a different way and not at the same time, and there isn’t a rope, but there was during the Purpose. What does that mean?”

  Mato folded the upper half of his arms but patted around his own pillow with his lower half. Zander shifted impatiently, until Mato said, “The Enduring connected everyone together to itself so it could do the ritual. The ‘rope’ you saw was that connection. Everyone wiggling together meant they were… hm… they attuned together. Does that make sense?” Zander shrugged in response. “Many people know about the connection and that it is there, but they can’t see it. They also can’t see people ‘wiggling’, either.”