Author's Note: STILL NOT DEAD YOU GUYS
Origins
By LeFox
Chapter Forty-Four: The Shadowed Path
There was no time to prepare; they grabbed only what was necessary. We should have been ready for this, Neirin thought, watching as Kuja gathered what few supplies were readily at hand as they followed Vehtra through the palace. We should have known we'd have to run again. We should have known. Maybe a part of him had honestly believed they'd be spending the rest of their short lives relatively safe behind the walls of Kiera. Maybe if he hadn't decided to bait Taharka, they might have. Was this all his fault? His guardians, the people of Kiera, even his soulless shadow army – were they all going to be massacred because of him?
No, not all; at a sharp order from Vehtra, one shadow soldier joined their small party. Neirin didn't argue; until he regained his strength, he was helpless. Having a strong mage around would give them a fighting chance, at least.
A teleporter carried them to an unfamiliar rough-hewn passageway, similar to the caverns Neirin had used to create his army – but this one was no wide, empty room. This one was a cave: so tall Neirin couldn't see the ceiling when he craned his neck back, and with a path that vanished into darkness outside of the pale blue light of the teleportation runes.
Vehtra had the shadow mage soldier light a torch. "You can carry something too, boy," he said, handing the torch over to Neirin. The young king took it without complaining; Kuja was carrying all of their supplies, after all.
"Where are we?" Kuja's voice echoed off the walls, sounding loud and hollow.
For the first time Neirin could recall, Vehtra looked uneasy. "Somewhere no one's been in hundreds, maybe thousands of years." He glanced at Tiamat, still holding the unconscious Safira, and jerked his head toward the shadow soldier. "Give the girl to the golem. The rest of you'd best go back to join the battle, if that's your plan." He looked down the dark path, squinting as though trying to see beyond the shadows. "We have a long way to go."
No painful farewells, no acknowledgement of how likely it was they would never see one another again; Neirin simply gave his three remaining guardians a sharp nod, and they were gone.
I'll be back soon, he assured himself. I just need to recover my power. Just a few short days.
But with Taharka's airship, a few short days could mean…
"Neirin." Kuja's voice called him back to the present; it was time to get moving. Vehtra led the way, with Neirin leaning on Kuja a short distance behind. The golem carried Safira at the rear, both of them completely silent. Kuja, on the other hand, was full of questions. "Where does this road lead?" He shifted the satchel holding their supplies to his other shoulder, the better to support Neirin as they walked. "How long will we be traveling?"
Vehtra was quiet a moment, considering the questions. "Do you know about the planet's crystal, boy?"
The young scholar blinked, recalling some of the books he'd read on the subject. "Of course. A world's crystal is its life. Terra survives by absorbing other worlds' crystals when its own is weak. Why?"
"Did you bring the book?"
"The…" Kuja frowned. "The book you told Neirin to give to me?" He'd grabbed it, if only because it was large and hefty; it would hardly be the first time he'd effectively used a book as a weapon. "What does that have to do with-"
"Good. You'll have plenty of time to read it soon, heh." Vehtra shook his head, still looking straight ahead. "A planet's crystal is its life. The crystal is the beginning of a planet's existence. Without a crystal there's no life." He glanced over his shoulder, lifting a curious eyebrow at Kuja. "But where do crystals come from?"
"Where do they…?"
"A planet comes from a crystal. But where does the crystal come from?"
Kuja stared, baffled. "There's no way to know that."
"Oh, but there is, lad." Vehtra grinned, but there was pain in it. "Lifetimes ago, there were doorways into a world of memories." He looked away again, focusing on the tunnel far ahead, but his mind was in the past. "Only a select few could open 'em, but they led into a world shaped by the memories of whoever opened that door. Inside was a path, woven together from events from the past, from the most recent to the most distant."
Neirin felt Kuja draw in a sharp breath. Vehtra nodded. "The most distant memories… we were never supposed to see that far back. Not ordinary humans. Things like that, that's for the gods to know, if they exist."
"Someone looked, though," Kuja guessed.
Vehtra nodded again. "The memory world was meant only to provide guidance, to let those powerful enough to enter reflect on their decisions and the events which led to them. It was meant to be a lesson in knowing one's self. But when power meets curiosity…" The old man shrugged. "Damn fools, anyway. They wanted to see how far back it all went. They wanted to see the beginning."
"And what did they find?"
"A crystal world." Vehtra's voice was hushed now, awed. "A crystal world, and at its core, a crystal of unsurpassed power and potential. It's that crystal that gives birth to new worlds and new lives – the beginning of all things."
"So," Kuja said slowly, "Where we're going…"
"…Is one of the old doorways."
Neirin shivered. "You were right about one thing," he muttered. "Taharka would never think to look for me there."
"I'd be stunned if Taharka knew this doorway existed." Vehtra chuckled mirthlessly. "Few native Kierans do. Even if he did, he doesn't have the keys."
"Keys?"
"Like I said before, only certain people can open the doorways. And it's not a one-person task, either." The old man stopped for only a second, pointing behind them at the unconscious Safira. "A channel is the first key: a soul through which the power of other souls can flow."
Kuja's green eyes narrowed. "That's why you saved Safira? That's why we're bringing her along?"
"I don't do a damn thing out of the goodness of my heart." Vehtra shrugged. "And the second key… is one of the souls of the First Kings." He glanced at Neirin. "The memory worlds were meant to provide guidance to the most powerful people on Terra. And who possessed more power than the first souls born from Terra's crystal?"
"But," Neirin began, confused. "Why would there be a gateway meant to be opened by the First Kings here?"
Vehtra snorted. "Still think your continent's the center of the world, whelp? In the dawn of Terra's first cycle, there were souls like yours everywhere. But things have always been different out here; we don't rely on blood to dictate our leadership, and we never bothered keeping bloodlines pure." He spat the word. "The consequence of strong leadership was the loss of keeping track of powerful souls, and here we are, cycles later: the First Souls are still reborn on our continent, but they're rare. Much more common on your continent, where one strong soul would marry another, producing a child more likely to be magically gifted." He arched an eyebrow at Neirin. "A soul like yours? You're the product of cycles and cycles full of inbreeding."
Neirin didn't rise to the bait. "Taharka seems to find it worthwhile."
"Aye, and he's the one whose opinion we should be minding, then?"
Kuja cut in. "So we're going to open this doorway. What happens once we're inside?"
"I don't know." Vehtra shrugged. "I've never been through the doorway, myself. It hasn't been opened in thousands of years – if not longer. The only advice I can give you is not to stay long, and don't try to go too far back."
There might not be much to see. Neirin squeezed Kuja's shoulder for reassurance. There was so little he recalled of his own memory; what would happen when his own rapidly-vanishing memories came into contact with a world meant to be created from memories? Would the world exist at all? Or perhaps by exploring this memory world, he might be able to reclaim some of his own lost memories…? But that would involve going backwards through time: the very thing Vehtra warned against.
But they were his memories. He deserved to have them.
Didn't he?
xxx
The red glow of the Invincible's central oculus was cool now, pulsing weakly. Taharka stroked the oculus' controls almost lovingly, coaxing more power into the system, more heat into the ship's heart. Come, my dear, there is a city for you to feast upon. The Invincible lacked the failed Ark's powerful core soul, presently, but it wasn't toothless – it lacked a consciousness, however, and had to rely on its master to manually control its actions. Eventually that might become an inconvenience, but for now…
For now, it allowed Taharka to destroy Kiera with his own hands, however indirectly.
"One of Terra's most ancient cities," he said aloud, as though speaking to the ship itself. "The walls have stood for many of Terra's life cycles, through more assimilations with more worlds than any other manmade structure. Today…" Taharka drew a deep breath: the air was acrid with burning electricity, and throughout the ship circuits were firing to life, diverting all unnecessary power to the oculus. The enormous disk glowed brighter and brighter, red-hot and shimmering, setting the air around it to sizzling.
"Today, we destroy those walls."
xxx
"Here."
"Here?"
Vehtra nodded. "Here."
Here was a dead end, a small cavern at the end of the long path. Neirin looked around, uncertain and confused. He'd expected… an actual door, perhaps, or a portal similar to those used for teleportation. Something, at least. This cavern was unremarkable in every way: more like a hole carved into the wall, something of an afterthought. The walls, ceiling, and floor were worn smooth in contrast with the rough walls of the passageway that had led here, but they were blank and cold to the touch; Neirin didn't detect anything magically significant about them. Indeed, he didn't feel anything significant about this place. He looked at Kuja, but the boy looked just as nonplussed as he felt; only Vehtra seemed confident about the location.
"It's…" Neirin looked around, hoping he hadn't missed something. "I was expecting…"
"I told you, it takes two keys to open the door." Vehtra gestured, and the shadowy mage stepped forward, carrying Safira. "You'll need to channel your power through her to make it work."
Neirin frowned at the unconscious slave girl. "Channel my power through her to what?" He looked around again, spreading his arms to indicate the empty chamber. "There's nothing to focus on! There's nothing here!"
"I'm not certain." Vehtra shrugged. "Just focus on opening the doorway, perhaps."
But I don't know what the doorway is. Neirin sighed, passing the burning torch to Vehtra and taking one of Safira's limp hands. He glanced at Kuja. "It shouldn't hurt her," he said, awkwardly. This wasn't like seizing the girl's power against her will, as Neirin had done earlier that very day – but then, how could he know for certain it wouldn't hurt? He'd never attempted to force his power through someone else before; perhaps it would hurt.
But Kuja merely shrugged. "We don't have a choice. This is our only way out."
Is there anything you won't forgive me for? Neirin stared at Safira's hand in his own for a moment, startled by how small it was: she was just a little girl, really, caught up in the end of the world. A convenient tool, with convenient powers that made her survival advantageous to people more powerful than she was. Neirin squeezed her hand, willing whatever he was about to do to be painless, brief, and above all, successful.
He closed his eyes, focusing on what he knew of Memoria. A world of memories. A path to the beginning of all things. Memories… He let what little power remained to him flow into Safira, praying it was enough. Opening the gateway took a powerful soul, he recalled; what if that meant a great deal of magic was necessary? He supposed he could draw from the shadow soldier, but it was a being created from magic: to draw from it might very well be to destroy it.
From behind him, he heard Kuja gasp.
"The doorway," Vehtra breathed, taking a step forward. "You did it."
Neirin dropped Safira's hand, opening his eyes. A fierce violet glow immediately made him shut them again; he blinked a few times, blinded by the sudden light. In the center of the stone chamber, a hole had been ripped in the fabric of the world itself: a spiraling cloud of light and magic, shifting shape and color and substance the longer Neirin stared at it. Safira's hand slipped out of his, but he barely noticed; the gateway was too remarkable to notice much of anything else.
Kuja stepped to his side. "Are you ready?"
"No," Neirin whispered. "No. Am I allowed to not be ready?"
"Of course." Kuja's smile was weak, but his eyes were warm. It gave Neirin strength.
Vehtra cleared his throat. "You just have to step through. I can't imagine what might be waiting on the other side, but…" He took a deep breath, then released it. "I wish you all luck. Perhaps things didn't turn out the way we'd hoped, but you did your best to help us, Neirin. We'll not soon forget it."
"I'll come back." Neirin turned to face the old man. In the gateway's glow, Vehtra looked even older, more exhausted. "I just need to regain my power, then I'll be back to help."
"Of course." Vehtra smiled, holding up a hand in farewell. "I'll hold you to it." With that, the old man turned away to begin the long, dark walk back to Kiera.
Neirin and Kuja stood together a moment, watching the colors of the gateway swirling. "I don't know what a world built from my memories is going to look like." Neirin swallowed, torn between fear and curiosity. "I don't know if we'll be safe there. I don't know if we'll be able to get back out. I don't –"
Kuja took his hand, squeezing gently. "We'll go together and find out. Ready?"
"No." Neirin took a deep breath. "Let's go."
Followed by the shadow soldier and Safira, they stepped through the portal.
xxx
Far to the north, there was a snow-bound continent wrapped in ice-covered mountains. In those mountains, a ragged collection of miserable refugees clustered together for warmth, rubbing their hands together and sitting close to their campfires to fend off frostbite. We survived everything Taharka's thrown at us, they mumbled bitterly, only to be killed by frostbite!
A tall, slender woman moved through the crowd, drawing her heavy cloak tightly around her shoulders as a brace against the cold, but she moved as if she didn't feel it at all: unlike the others, who moved stiffly and slowly as if their very bones had been frozen, this woman moved like she might very well be floating, stepping lightly from one place to the next. Her mind was much the same: drifting.
She was slightly more focused than usual today, seeking a very particular person. Ah! And there she was, glaring with a stoic lack of concern over the shivering crowd, right where she always was. Alaura smiled, drifting merrily over to one of the refugee camp's leaders – not the nice one, no, but beggars and choosers and whatnot, and what were they all if not beggars?
"Oh, Naki, I needed to have a word with you."
Naki gave her a blank, unconcerned glance. "What do you need, Alaura?"
"Oh, that's just it, it isn't just me this time!" Alaura gave Naki her warmest smile, knowing it wasn't likely to melt the woman's icy heart. Supposedly Naki had once been a devoted follower of Taharka himself; oh, the horror of it all – but something terrible had happened, something just dreadful, and now here she was, helping to gather up those who had survived Taharka's attacks. There was a good heart lurking somewhere behind that wall, yes, Alaura just knew it. "Naki, dear, it's just that we're almost out of food, and I was thinking –"
"The hunting party will return shortly." Naki looked away, already dismissing her.
Alaura nodded. "Oh! Good, how wonderful. There was some concern that we might starve. Supposedly the hunting party was supposed to return three days ago with more food, but they've been gone for so long, I started trying to take some of the seeds and berries we have all stored up and make them grow. They could grow, I'm quite certain, but if you listen to them they're all simply complaining about the cold. Too cold to grow, too cold to blossom! But with a bit of bribery I'd bet you anything I might be able to tease them into putting down roots. Blueberry bushes might be good to have, oh, and grapes, but those are much too difficult to persuade to grow out of season, and of course nothing is in season in this weather no matter what season it may be…"
Naki had long since stopped listening; the hunting party had finally returned. She watched as they carried in several thin, disappointingly scrawny carcasses: even the wildlife wasn't eating well these days. But meat was meat.
The leader of the hunting party pulled off his cloak, too threadbare for being out in such cold weather, and went through the room, greeting everyone with a genuine warmth that might very well ease some of the frostbite. He was greeted with grateful smiles and a few rough cheers: his return meant there was food again – not much, and not for long, but they wouldn't starve for at least another day.
It was several long minutes before he made his way to the front of the room to greet Naki with the same hearty joy he'd shown to everyone else; she acknowledged him with a small nod.
He may have saved her life, but that didn't make them friends.
The man grinned, listening to Alaura continue on with her description of plants and seeds and berries for several minutes longer, before cutting in: "Planning to work your magic and grow some crops, Alaura?"
"And of course we – oh!" She stopped, blinking. "So the hunting party is back, then? Wonderful! Welcome home, Jalen."
Author's Note: Next time, Memoria.
