The silvery liquid quivered as if it had been disturbed. But in all the time that we were pulled to the pool’s edge, I had not seen a single drop fall from the crystal. Not one. The Char Jelly continued to ripple and I realized that something larger than a drop had fallen into it. On the heels of that realization, my field of vision became constantly rippling silver. Slowly an image formed. Translucent, like slightly-tinted glass, was what looked like an old fashioned key. The key tumbled end over end. The varnished brass from whence it was made somehow winked in some unfathomable light. It looked … wrong. It had ‘Bad News’ written all over it. Much like the Lous-eci’dalb had.
Perhaps it had been the comparison to the Lous-eci’dalb that shifted the image of the key to that of a knife. It looked like an ordinary steel knife. But in my heart I knew differently. I heard Kylesst hiss near me. Apparently I wasn’t the only one to be horrified by that knife.
THAT IS THE KNIFE THAT THE BETRAYER USED ON YOU, Kylesst said in an ominous hiss.
I shuddered. “Why do you think we are seeing that thing? And why did it look like a key at first?” At my words, the knife faded back into the key, tumbling end over end in an endless silver abyss.
I HAVE A BAD FEELING THAT THE KNIFE IS A KEY OF SORTS.
“Oh, no,” I groaned. Before Kylesst and I got lost, I had been in that chamber. I had been in that place to save Kylesst from being used to open the prison… I had broken the Lous-eci’dalb. It was how Kylesst was now free, fully bonded to me. I thought we had won the battle. “He found a loophole ...” I barely whispered. Though perhaps a more accurate thought would be that Betrayer, who I had thought to be an ally named Timothy, had written whatever advice Knight had been following to be vague so there would be multiple ways to achieve the desired results. It made sense with the drad’age opponent I had played against.
Kylesst and I watched the key turn back into the knife, then back into the key, over and over again. We tried to catch it a few times. But we were not really there. We could do nothing. Nothing except watch.
RYLYNN, YOU CAN SEE THE BOTTOM OF THE WELL, NOW, Kylesst said. I shook my head, wanting to deny it. But I couldn’t. Despite all logic, I could see it, too. The bottom of the long well was still a little ways off, but the key/knife would reach it soon. And to make it even worse, it was aimed right for what looked like a keyhole. A dark mouth waiting at the bottom of the well.
“Kylesst! We have to find a way back. We have to warn them. We have do something!” Because watching that knife/key tumble endlessly was doing nothing for me.
AGREED. LET’S GET OUT OF THIS MESS, he said, and the silvery pool with its horrible secret disappeared. We were back in the void I had encountered upon becoming aware of this nothing place. We could hear distant, unintelligible voices. Problem was, neither of us could tell where they were coming from. All we knew was the swirling fog in a greater darkness. A dense patch of the fog moved and we were treated to a sight I will never forget. Hundreds of thousands of bright lights stretched before us.
“What are they?” I asked in awe.
I HAVE NO IDEA, Kylesst said, and I knew that he wasn’t happy that he didn’t know. PERHAPS THEY ARE DOORWAYS. LIKELY THEY ARE MORE MEMORIES FROM THE BOTH OF US.
“That would explain why there are so many.”
INDEED. BUT MAYBE THAT IS WHERE THOSE VOICES ARE COMING FROM.
I shrugged. “There is no way to tell. But we might as well check it out. It’s not like there is much else we can do.”
Kylesst chuckled wryly. I smiled, but it was fleeting. We had to hurry. Time was not on our side.
***
Braeden
Prime World Forestrium
Imperial System
Spectral Empire
He couldn’t sleep. Not with the horrible, hungry darkness lurking on the edge of consciousness to consume him. It had been a long time since Braeden had admitted to being too afraid to go to sleep. The last time had been shortly after his wife had died. But the dreams then had been the bittersweet variety of mourning. These … the dreams that haunted him now were another creature all together. Caffeine was one of the only things serving as a bulwark between him and those dreams. That and constant activity. But exhaustion would overtake him. It was inevitable as death. The walls to keep him awake were being worn down, no matter his efforts to keep them strong. Fear was really the only thing now that was keeping his gritty eyes opened. And even that was almost not enough to keep the dreams at bay.
What made those dreams of hungry darkness so horrible was that he knew them to be a portent of what was coming. He just didn’t know the specifics. He couldn’t believe that there was nothing anyone could do to save themselves from the gathering darkness. God wouldn’t just leave them hanging. He just didn’t know what the answer to his prayers were just yet. Braeden doubted the dreams, nightmares really, held the answer.
“Can’t sleep?” a female voice asked.
Braeden had been so busy in his own mind that he hadn’t realized his little corner of the garden was no longer just his. A slender woman with long, light chestnut hair was walking toward him. Though it was obvious that she was truly there and casting a shadow in the lamp light, Braeden still thought he was looking at a ghost. “Sylvia!” he exclaimed, scrambling to his feet. “You’re alive?”
Her light green eyes sparkled in the lamplight. She was laughing at him, her grin yet another ghost. “Ah, Joseph, I could ask the same.” She held out her arms for a hug. Braeden hesitated for a moment before hugging her close. He couldn’t remember the last time he embraced anyone like he was now. No matter how close they were to him, there had always been that last barrier that he couldn’t let them through. His secrets were too dangerous for so many reasons to let anyone get too close.
But Sylvia was different. She had been as much his sister as Amber’s. And because of that, and her eccentric need to be away from a Prime World, she had been the one he had trusted to raise his daughter while he ensured her safety by ‘dying.’ After a long moment of companionable silence, Braeden pulled back partially. “Where have you been, Sylvia?”
She sighed and leaned against him for a moment, before taking a step back. “In my own version of hell,” she replied. “The reason why I had been on Colony Lenti in the first place had found me.”
“I don’t understand,” Braeden said, watching her steadily.
Sylvia turned from him, her arms wrapped protectively around herself. “My family didn’t know it, but I was married.” Braeden blinked in surprise. Apparently he wasn’t the only one who kept such profound secrets. Sylvia glanced back at him and caught some of the questions in his eyes. “I never told my family because they would never have understood. They never understood me, either. You’d understand why. The dreams …” she said, waving a delicate hand, “the nightmares.” Sylvia shivered. “I met a man, a Trace Sinclair. He didn’t think I was crazy like my family did.”
“Amber and I didn’t think you were crazy,” Braeden had to point out.
Sylvia smiled slightly as she turned back to face him. “Perhaps, but I hadn’t met anyone before who tried to understand me for me. Who could be part of my happily-ever-after.” Grief shadowed her expression and she looked away again. Shame bent her shoulders. “But I was a fool, Braeden. Trace … Trace was not the man that I thought he was. The man I loved was just a mask for a monster.”
Braeden’s brows rose at that. Sylvia was the least melodramatic woman he knew. Yes, she was eccentric because of the dreams that haunted her day and night. But as a Raven Shade, and thus a Seer, as well, Braeden didn’t find those strange at all. Sylvia had been more clear-sighted than most and was the first to try to understand another. Braeden had never heard her call someone else a ‘monster’ before. What had this Trace Sinclair done to inspire such hatred from one of the Empire’s most compassionate citizens? “What has he done?” he asked, wondering silently if he could ask either Race or Francesca if they would be willing to do a favor for him, or if R
ylynn would wake up so he could see to hunting this Trace down himself.
“A better question would be, ‘What hasn’t he done?’”
“Pardon?”
Sylvia began to pace, as if that would make it easier for her to explain. “I was the foolish one, you see. He was the clever one who knew what he wanted. Where most people saw a crazy person, he saw an asset. Especially since what I Saw was true. He gained my trust so he could have access to my gift. I loved him. At first I could see nothing wrong with him … at least not that I would admit to myself.”
“Where is he?” Braeden asked softly.
She whirled to face him. “I don’t know, Joseph. But you don’t want to find him.”
“Yes, I do.”
“No,” Sylvia said, shaking her head, “no you don’t. You see, I loved Trace and Trace loved me.” A delicate raised hand stalled his protests. “But, Trace was a façade. The man I loved was a character for another to play. I was foolish in not listening to my gut when I gave him access to my gift. I knew that he was dangerous. That something was wrong. You see, he has been using many names and faces over the years. I think he has done it so much now that he no longer remembers who he was originally. He just goes by Betrayer now. I think, though, you would know him as ‘the Enemy.’” Braeden stilled and she nodded. “I know you know the Prophecy of the Defender.
“Our enemy is clever. Has always been. I was beyond foolish, but I was also very lucky. I married him than fled from him before you and Amber conceived. God must have been with me those thirteen years because he didn’t find me. Not until Rylynn was old enough to look after herself.”
“That’s what you meant. You have been with him for the past year and a half,” Braeden muttered, “your own personal hell.”
“And you are in yours. How is Rylynn?”
“I am assuming you spoke to your parents and they told you? Or did the Enemy?” Braeden asked, sitting back down on the bench and gesturing for her to join him.
Sylvia sat, thoughtfully playing with a few locks of hair that had fallen forward over her shoulder. “Actually, no to either. I figured I would speak to my parents in the morning.”
“Then how?”
Sylvia raised a brow at him. “I Saw it.”
Braeden smiled wanly. “Right. Well, she is alive. She is healing. She just hasn’t woken up yet and without her … Well, the dreams say it all, don’t they? The darkness is already consuming us.”
“You sound like the Enemy has already won.”
“Hasn’t he?” Braeden said, leaning back on the bench and struggling against closing his eyes and ultimately losing. He still fought against sleep, but Sylvia’s next words worked better than several pots of coffee.
“Of course he hasn’t. Don’t you remember the end of the prophecy? Oh! I forgot, that part was lost …”
“What are you talking about?” Braeden asked, becoming more alert than he had been for some time.
Sylvia’s wondering gaze jumped to his. “I dreamed that the final part of the prophecy had been ruined before being rediscovered recently. But I got to See it before it was destroyed by a group of raiders. It said that that the Defender would be betrayed while rescuing a soul-friend. The Defender and the Soul-friend would be trapped in a living death for a length of time while struggling to find their way back. When I Saw the attack on Rylynn, I knew I wanted to be here when she woke up.”
“The coma was part of the prophecy …?” Braeden murmured to himself. He had thought that he had failed to protect Rylynn, when there had been no chance of changing what would happen. But at least he knew at some point she would wake up. “Did it give a timeframe?” He asked.
“It said ‘three years,’ but without knowing the origins of the prophecy, I can’t tell you if that will be three cycles or months or days even.”
“Well, I can tell you that it wasn’t days. It hasn’t quite been three months, yet, so we’ll see.”
“She will be okay, Joseph,” Sylvia said, putting a hand on his shoulder. “She and her Spectral just need time to find their way back to us.”
“I just hope there will be something left of the empire when they do wake up,” Braeden said wearily.
“You mean the nightmares featuring a devouring darkness, don’t you?”
“I do.”
“What if I told you it wasn’t a nightmare message, but a dream message?” Sylvia asked.
“I might not believe you,” Braeden said, turning to face her. She just smiled at him. “But I should, huh?”
“Get some sleep, Joseph,” she said, getting up. “You look horrible.”
After she left, Braeden gathered his courage and went back to his chamber. It was a strange sort of relief to just sleep, to let go and see what was actually being shown. The nightmarish, hungry darkness returned as soon as his eyes closed. It rushed toward him with a sickening glee. Braeden turned to flee, to pinch himself awake, when he noticed Raj flying toward him. And thus toward the darkness.
Terrified for his friend’s life, Braeden shouted a warning. Raj ignored him and settled on his shoulder, his silver eyes fearless before the hungry wave bearing down on them. BE NOT AFRAID, MY FRIEND, Raj said to him, DARKNESS ALWAYS FLEES BEFORE THE LIGHT. Braeden saw it then, the radiant cord that bound him and Raj together. It grew brighter and brighter and the darkness crashing down on them screeched to a halt. It surrounded them, but it could not close the distance. It tried repeatedly, but the bond’s light proved too painful for it. Eventually it gave up and went seeking elsewhere.
Braeden woke the next morning refreshed and driven as he had not been for the last couple months. “Hey, Gigit, contact Commander Blackmore for me,” he said softly to his Medi-Comp/com-link’s AI.
“You do realize that it is two in the morning on Prima Imperium, right?” Gigit asked.
“Sam will forgive me once he hears what I have to say,” Braeden replied.
“Well, if you think it’s wise …” Gigit said, before establishing a private link with Sam Blackmore, the Commander of the Shade Order.
He was a particularly sleepy Commander, if his groggy response was anything to go by. Braeden stretched again with a smile, his eyes on the beautiful golden early morning sunlight streaming through the gauzy curtains. “Good morning, Sir. I know what will protect us against the threat that has been haunting the dreams of Seers the empire over.”
As Braeden had predicted, the Commander woke right up once his mind processed what Braeden had said. “Tell me,” Blackmore ordered. The nightmares, coupled with the message sent by Sylvia saying ‘they are coming,’ had been a problem for the last several months. The Spectrals had been worried about something unnamed for about the same length of time. Any clues, no matter how crazy, were worth more than gold and something that promised to be the answer was worth even more.
“The bond with the Spectrals. The darkness cannot go near it. If you need verification, convince those who have the nightmare to let the darkness come, they will see what I did.”
“Even with the verification, how does that save the empire against this threat? There are only so many Spectrals and only a few of them find someone they can bond with.”
“True,” Braeden said, his smile diming. “I don’t think it’s supposed to save the Empire. I think it’s to give us a chance against the darkness. It’s the Defender who will find a way to defeat this Enemy.” Braeden hadn’t Seen anything about the Defender battling the darkness, but Rylynn was to fight against an ancient enemy. He knew instinctively that the darkness was that enemy. And the words had felt right as they rolled off his tongue
“That’s what the prophecy says, but it didn’t say Rylynn would be knocked out of the game early. If Rylynn is the Defender, than we are doomed,” the Commander replied pessimistically. “Especially since she might never wake up.”
“You doubt now that she is the Defender?” Braeden started to pace the ten or so feet between his bed and the window. Raj watched him with a single silver ey
e from his perch on the coat tree. “Sir, I know that it seems hopeless now, but the attack on Rylynn and her coma was in the prophecy. It is just that part had been lost in a raid long ago.”
“How could you possibly know that? Did you See it?”
“No, but Sylvia did.”
“Sylvia is dead and you would have said something sooner if you had known.”
Braeden smiled again. “And that is where we were all wrong, Sir. Sylvia is alive. She has been in captivity for the past year but has recently escaped. I spoke with her last night. She is the one who told me the answer was in the dream.” Braeden could feel the Commander’s shock. “Do you remember the letter Rylynn received all those months ago, written by her aunt?”
“I do,” the Commander said slowly.
“Sylvia wrote that she had married a man who had understood her gifts. The name he used was Trace Sinclair. Sylvia doesn’t know his real name, doubts he even remembers it, but he goes by the title ‘Betrayer.’ He is somehow part of the ‘Enemy’ that the Defender is against. He had married Sylvia to gain access to Sylvia’s gift and had found her again after thirteen cycles. He held Sylvia captive for a year. I assume that it was from her gift that he learned who Rylynn really was and how to get close to her, to attack her.”
“But we got her away from the school,” Blackmore protested.
“Yes,” Braeden agreed, “we did, which is why she is still living. The lost part of the prophecy that Sylvia had Seen said that ‘in rescuing a Soul-friend, the Defender would be Betrayed and trapped in a living death for three years.’”
The Commander was quiet for a moment before saying. “The ‘Soul-friend’ would be a Spectral – Kylesst.”
“Yes, and she was betrayed, literally stabbed in the back and is now in a coma –.”
Defender of the Empire: Chaos Page 5