by R. Brown
“I’m sorry,” said Ashlyn. “I did not recognize the voice. The Keeper that I know is a male, his voice and appearance being masculine.”
“I understand. I encompass the traits and qualities of all our people, both male and female. It was by personal choice that I chose this persona for you. I saw in your mind that it is considered more nurturing to have a female presence.
“But for the Keepers I sent forth, I created them equally, making them either decidedly male or female. The simulations verified that it provided the highest percentage of success.”
Ashlyn’s mind raced. “Simulations? Success? To what end?”
“It was the wish of my creators that their history, knowledge, and accomplishments not be forgotten. They were dying. It was hoped that if any of their children survived—that they might return the people to the glory of their forefathers.”
“Why were they dying? What happened to destroy such a vast empire?”
“They were caught in a battle not of their own making—one between the darkness and the light. It consumed all the worlds they had built. The galaxy and the universe in which it existed disappeared—swallowed by a darkness that could not be stopped.”
Ash grimaced, the phraseology of the words too consistent to be mere coincidence. Ashlyn’s mind was swirling, unable to comprehend how Enlil’s destruction of the Draconian worlds and his battle between the darkness and the light—could have affected the empire of this once great people, so long ago. “But that doesn’t make sense. You still exist. This planet and the universe still exist. No such calamity ever happened.”
“The events of which I speak have not yet happened for you—but they happened long ago for those who came before you.”
“Of course, it’s another damned time paradox,” said Ashlyn under her breath.
The Keeper responded, “You are correct. It is another damned time paradox.”
Ash grinned.
“Baetylus.” The battle-cry of the hunting party, who had trailed her, echoed through the room.
Ash touched the center of the pendant a heartbeat before the first sword struck her. Instinctually, Ash leaned back as a second sword came at her. The Drac’s blade came across the top of her, missing her chest by less than two inches. The swing struck the crystal atop the pedestal, shattering it. The image of the woman she’d been talking to disappeared.
Angered by the ancient crystal’s destruction, Ash brought the sword to life. She pointed it at the Dracs and tightened her grip, sending forth the energy beam. In a continuous sweep, each Drac dissolved and disappeared as the light from the blade touched them.
Looking outside, Ash saw the wounded Drac who’d helped her, kneeling upon the steps. He was weak from the pain of his wounds.
Walking outside to him, she knelt beside him. “Hold still, my friend.” Placing her hand upon his shoulder, she called upon her healing ability. The light from within her, ignited. Even through her armor, it could be seen moving down her arm and into him. Within seconds, his wound closed.
“You powerful,” said the Drac.
“As are you. How did you get across the lava flow?” asked Ash.
The Drac purred. “Used armor to make jump.”
“Clever, but risky,” said Ash.
“Fighting you, risky too,” said Drac.
Ash grinned. “And what about the snakes outside? How did you get past them?”
“Slithers no like Drac. We eat slithers when hunt here,” said the Drac.
Ashlyn’s stomach grumbled when he spoke of food. “What I’d give for a burger, fries and a chocolate-chip shake right now,” said Ash.
Ash rose, getting ready to leave. The Drac grabbed her arm, stilling her.
“Thank you,” said the Drac, taking great care to articulate the words.
Ash looked him in the eyes. “You can come with me if you want? Safer than staying.
“When we return above, you can take me prisoner. You can bind me in the vines I tied together. You’ll be honored.” Ash was hopeful that he would accept her offer.
“They no understand why I let you live,” said the Drac.
“Tell them I reached the stone first, and that honor demands my fate be decided by Basilisk,” said Ashlyn.”
“Hmmmgg—yes. For honor. Let Basilisk decide.”
Ash rose and extended her hand to him.
With a growl, the Drac took her hand and rose to his feet. “No understand why save me?”
“Killing is not our way. We find more value in allies than enemies,” said Ashlyn.
“Me understand. Some us also not like make enemies. It heresy to speak of it.” The Drac turned, looking up the street. “We go. More come soon.”
Ash grinned. “My name is Ash. Yours?”
“Antares.”
Chapter 14
Baetylus
Ash created a gravity bubble around the two of them. “It’s faster,” said Ash.
“We go toward sea,” said Antares, pointing to the yet unexplored end of the city.
Ash smiled. The bubble lifted. She took a cross-legged seat. Seeing him totter, the empty space beneath his feet causing anxiety, “Relax. The ride is easier if you are sitting,” said Ash.
The Drac curled his tail and took a seat near her.
Ashlyn’s eyes were drawn to the two figures atop the large fountain in the center of the square. Moving the bubble toward it, she circled around to its front side. Raising her hand, she directed an invisible gravity field to tear away the vines. With each swipe of her hand, her heart sped in expectation. What was revealed, seemed impossible, and yet, since the moment she had entered the city—she had felt it calling to her.
“Steven,” gasped Ash as she stared at the tall, statuesque man.
Antares looked at her and back at the statue. “You wear stone—same as Montok.”
Ashlyn’s gaze shifted to Antares and quickly back to the statues. Around the great beast’s neck, inset into its collar was the Star of Elements.
“This place belongs to gods of old, those of legend. I not understand,” said Antares.
“That’s me,” said Ashlyn. “I am the beast you call Montok. The man is—” Tears came to Ashlyn’s eyes. Her mind understood the implications that her heart did not.
“How possible?” asked Antares, his own voice barely above a whisper.
Ash shook her head. She thought back to the crystal. It had said she carried the genetic markers of her ancestors. That she was of the royal family, those who ruled all the varied civilizations.
Though the picture in her mind was vague—the information the crystal revealed, led to a past that she had yet to live. More was at stake than they had ever realized. It was not just humanity’s fate that hung in the balance, but that of many worlds, many civilizations.
Ash sighed, a heavy escaping breath releasing the tension within. “Off to see the wizard.” Ash wondered if the Keeper had known all along of their origin, or if he too had been kept in the dark. She had a million questions.
The bubble began to move, quickly picking up speed. Ash had also called for a small, light breeze to cool them inside.
Antares saw her hair fluttering and raised his hand, trying to determine where the air was coming from. He looked at Ashlyn, confusion framing his face.
Ash grinned.
Antares grumbled softly when he saw she wasn’t going to answer.
The city came to an end at an inland sea, just as Antares had said. Several small sailing boats were lined along the shore, placed there for the Dracs to use in crossing. Gloomy, dark clouds hovered above the sea, blocking out most of the light from reaching the surface.
“We cross.” Antares pointed. “Those following must use boat. It dangerous. Many Draconian die here. We look for light of Baetylus other side. It guide us.”
“Have you been here before?” asked Ash.
Antares shook his head. “Hear stories from those who survive. They speak of—” He grasped for the word. “Mon-monster
s, who protect the stone.”
As they moved over the water, Ashlyn’s curiosity forced the question. “How do you know my language?”
Antares turned his head, showing her a scar just behind the slit where his left ear was. “We receive when born. It help learn.”
“A linguistics implant. Did your people develop the technology?” asked Ash.
He shook his head, almost as if ashamed.
“You got it from a world you conquered?” asked Ash.
“It long ago. More you talk—more implant help me learn.”
“But you knew my language before I arrived. Who above speaks the words of my people?” asked Ash, wondering if Steven might occasionally speak it.
Growling, not wanting to answer, Antares paused. Under Ashlyn’s unrelenting gaze, he said, “Prisoners.”
“You have others of my kind?” asked Ash, surprised by his answer.
“Three,” he answered. A male, and two females. Young ones.”
Ash gasped, daring to hope that Christie and other children might still be alive. “My daughter’s name is Christie. Have you heard that name before?”
Antares nodded. “Yes, I hear name when they talk to selves. Basilisk, not let be seen often.”
Ash inhaled. Her daughter was alive—other children were alive. Focusing, she increased their speed. The hum of the bubble grew louder as its power grew stronger. Her heart longed to see her—her arms ached to hold her.
Antares pointed to the sea below. “See. Monsters.”
Below them, three large serpents, like great winged snakes weaved and breached the surface. Their speed was amazing, their agility in the water exceeding that of birds in the air. It was enthralling to watch.
“You raise—” said Antares, his words interrupted by one of the creatures leaping from the surface and grabbing the gravity bubble in his mouth. The creature dove, dragging them under the surface. The two of them were flung against the wall of the gravity bubble.
Calling upon the flame, Ash surrounded the bubble by a wall of intensely hot fire. A heavy tremor shook the bubble as the pained creature released them, spitting them out.
Ash quickly guided the bubble upward through the water until they were again rising high into the air. “I’m gathering that you were going to say, I should ‘raise the bubble.’”
With a nod, Antares gave answer. His eyes were wide, staring at the creatures below that kept pace with them.
Skirting the heavy clouds, flying as high as they could without getting lost inside them, Ash kept a ring of fire burning beneath them—a deterrent should the creatures decide to try again.
“Hmmmgg,” Antares soft growl called her attention. “In Abaddon, why you say you Montok?” asked Antares.
“Abaddon. Is that the name of the ancient city behind us?” asked Ash.
Antares tipped his head.
Ash leaned forward, as though she were sharing a secret. “Because the man standing next to the animal on the pedestal was Steven—my husband.”
“No possible. City old, from time before Drac exist. City belong gods. Gods create Drac,” said Antares.
“You believe that the people that built that city created your people, the Draconians?” asked Ash.
Antares nodded. “They die long ago, though we live.”
“Did you know that Basilisk, your leader is one of my people, that he’s my husband?” asked Ashlyn.
Antares growled fiercely. “You speak blasphemy. You say you, Montok. You say Basilisk not Draconian. You say he same man we see Abaddon. Mistake not kill you.” Antares turned his head aside, not wanting to look at her.
Ashlyn collapsed her armor and shifted form into a Draconian. Antares, moved back as far as he could within the small confines. Fear owned his eyes. Ash quickly changed back and said. “Basilisk is one of my people. He has assumed Draconian form.”
Antares was shaking. His mind fighting to comprehend. His heart unwilling to bend before the evidence presented. “Why Basilisk betray you? Why lead my people, not yours?”
“Good questions. It’s a long story,” said Ash—and not one she wanted to tell.
“Do all your people have such powers?” asked Antares.
“Some, not all,” answered Ash.
“Legend say Draconian gods take many forms. You create us—why you kill us?” asked Antares.
“I have no wish to do so. The Dracs will someday try to enslave my world. I fight so we can stay free. We only wish to be left alone.
“Antares, what do you know of the creature we saw, the Montok? What is it? What does the name mean?”
“Montok mean, hmm, big—breasts.” His eyes dropped to Ashlyn’s breasts, “Like you—Montok.
“Montok serve god. It protect him. It god’s pet.”
“Pet?” Ashlyn huffed. “We’ll see about that.” Ashlyn’s attention was caught away by a distant light on the horizon. “Is that Baetylus?”
Antares turned. “Yes. We go there.”
Ashlyn adjusted course, heading for the twinkling beacon in the distance.
Antares was glad to see that the creatures in the sea below did not follow. Ash grinned as she saw him relax, the tension in his shoulders dropping.
“It’s a lighthouse,” exclaimed Ash.
“What—lighthouse?” asked Antares, not understanding the word.
“It’s a building, a structure designed to either warn people about dangers in the water nearby,” said Ash. “—or to help guide them home.”
“Here—I think it both,” said Antares.
“I think you’re right, my friend,” said Ash.
“This word—friend. You used it before. Are we—friends?” Antares asked.
“I would like to think so,” said Ash. “I don’t want any harm to come to you. I care about what happens to you.” Ash gave him a warm grin.
“Then, yes. We are friends. I too—care.” Antares’s tail curled. It seemed an expression of affection.
Ash guided the bubble down to the top of the bluff overlooking the inland sea just feet away from the lighthouse—and activated her armor. “No offense to you, Antares. This is simply to protect us from what might be out there.” Collapsing the bubble, she set their feet down upon solid ground.
Antares gave a snarling grin of approval. “Baetylus stone inside.”
“Inside it is,” answered Ash. The door at the base of the lighthouse was large, large enough for a Draconian to easily walk through. She opened the door, the sword in her hand sizzling with energy. Ash stepped inside first, Antares close behind.
An enormous, smooth, round, black stone sat in the middle of the floor—the Baetylus stone.
Distracted by a set of stone stairs that led upwards, Ashlyn took a step, curious to see where they led. Antares grabbed her hand. “No. All who go, not come back. No return home. It is said they go to a place of torment for daring look upon the eye of Ra.”
“Alright,” said Ash.
Tightening his grip upon Ashlyn’s hand, Antares said, “We go home. You must have, hmm—no armor. I must carry sword. I use vine. Tie you.”
As if he expected her not to trust him, he reassuringly said, “Friends.”
The wrinkles in Ashlyn’s eyes and her narrow grin, told him she understood.
Ash collapsed her armor and handed him her sword.
Taking the vines, he bound her hands tightly. “I carry you, like prisoner,” said Antares as he picked her up and slung her over his shoulder.
With one hand holding her sword, he touched the Baetylus stone.
Ash could feel herself being transported. It was identical to what she felt when the Keeper transported them.
A moment later, she found herself and Antares standing atop the pedestal, back at the stone monuments that resembled Stonehenge. Antares put her down and grabbing her hair, pulled it tight, tilting her head back. He put the sword to her throat.
With their appearance, a horn sounded, signaling that the hunt was over. The hunting parties not y
et released showed their disgust at seeing her alive—releasing loud roars of complaint for all to hear. Low, grumbling murmurs passed amongst them.
Antares spoke, his stature commanding. “She survived the crucible and was first to see Baetylus stone. She my prisoner. I bring her to Basilisk so he may decide fate.”
“You break law,” shouted one of the warriors watching.
Antares dipped his head, a movement Ash had seen the Dracs use before when offended. “No. Law not broken. We never have prey survive crucible. She is first. Earned right to be claimed by Basilisk.”
“Basilisk kill her,” said the dissenting warrior.
“That his right, his alone. Not yours,” said Antares. “Her strength bring him honor.” As a horn sounded, Antares and the others all knelt. Basilisk was coming.
Upon the back of the large horse, bird-like creature came Steven—riding up the hill. His Draconian form seemed even more imposing than before. Several vehicles rose into the air from the city in the distance, coming toward her.
Steven jumped from his mount as he neared the stones. He walked toward them with a casual gait, heading to Antares.
Antares, without raising his eyes, lifted Ashlyn’s sword in his open palms, offering it to Basilisk as a gift.
Ignoring the gift being offered him, Basilisk commanded. “Rise, Antares. Let me see the eyes of the warrior who could not kill her.”
Antares rose.
“Why did you spare her life? Why do you dishonor your clan?” demanded Basilisk.
“I spare life—she was first to reach Baetylus stone. She killed warriors hunting her. She first survive crucible. She belong you. Only you have right to claim.”
“I want no such claim. She is unworthy of me,” said Basilisk in admonishment.
“Her strength is great. Her spirit belong to greatest among us. It make you stronger. I see no greater way give you honor,” said Antares with utmost humility and sincerity.