Title: Mythology
Disclaimer: I don't own anything
Author's note: Just a reminder, 'Sinai' means 'fate' in Antarian, so Mt. Sinai is technically the 'mountain of fate.' Also, if you don't know who Agent Simmons is (i.e. the guest speaker who recognized Max), read the part of 'The Hammer Falls' that deals with him and Agent Blair, because he is important in this part.
Chapter Fourteen: At the Foot of Mt. Sinai
Day 14
Tess woke with the rising sun, and crawled across the ground on her hands and knees, staying low and out of sight. The safety of the abandoned bunker had not been compromised during the night, but she still did not want to take any risks. Who knew how many skins were out there?
"Ava?"
Tess turned and looked back at Khai. He was standing in a low crouch, peering over the stone debris at the distant mountain. "It is almost time we left. Are you ready?"
Tess nodded mutely. Something lingered in the air today, something telling her that the final battle was close. She swallowed her anticipation and stood, twisting and looking at the hazy figure of Mt. Sinai. It was not that far away, a little less than a day's walk, and the rest of the Resistance would be there, waiting for her.
Waiting for a Queen.
She would not disappoint them.
Khai stood slowly, kicking the stones away and pushing through the overgrown bush. The grass whipped back and forth in the wind, rolling in waves over the stony earth. It made Tess think fleetingly of the Roswell desert in the spring when all the new grass first poked through the rocks and sand.
"Do you have a plan?" Khai questioned.
Tess shook her head wordlessly and pulled Alex tightly to her chest. His face was pale, too pale for her liking, this journey had taken a toll on him as well. But his eyes were still bright, and they still regarded her with a sort of wonder.
She pressed a kiss into his hair and felt the familiar sensation as he reached out and brushed his mind against her conscious.
"You should have a plan," Khai broke into the sentimental moment with his usual gruff logic. "You can't arrive at the sight of the battle without a plan."
Tess glanced over at him. "I'm going to wing it," she replied airily. "It's what I've been doing for the past few months, and its worked out alright so far."
"For you," Khai replied pointedly. "But it didn't work out so well for others."
Tess sighed and leaned against an outcropping. "What would you suggest I do, Khai? I don't know what it is I am walking into, all I know is I don't have time to come up with a plan." She looked away, her eyes shadowed with the remains of the guilt that would not quite leave her alone. "And even if I had had a plan, I would not have been able to save Larek or Sria."
"True," Khai agreed with a nod of his head. "There deaths were in no way your fault."
"That's not true," Tess cut in sharply. Khai raised and eyebrow and she looked away, her face flushed. "Max, Isabel, and Michael aren't the only ones who have done stupid things in the heat of the moment. I'm just as guilty as they are of that crime."
"You didn't betray your family," Khai pointed out.
Tess sighed. "I could have stayed on Earth and defended myself, tried to work with them instead of against them. But I left, in part to save Alex, but mostly because I was angry at them. Furious. I wanted to hurt Max, I wanted to make him suffer."
Tess licked her suddenly dry lips and glanced at Alex's eyes. They were her own eyes, baby blue and shinning bright, that stared up at her with innocence. "I dragged Alex into this entire mess without giving him a choice in the matter."
"He is the heir to the throne, he has no choice," Khai replied simply.
"I don't believe that," Tess countered. She slanted Khai and appraising glance. "And neither do you," she continued, and Khai looked away. "There is always a choice."
"Is there?" Khai asked.
"Max chose not to come with me," Tess murmured. "Max chose not to believe me. That was his choice."
"He believes you now," Khai retorted. "He wishes he was with you now. He may have chosen not to come, but he regrets that decision."
"He is happy with Liz," Tess snapped bitterly.
"He will never be happy as long as he continues to think of himself as human," Khai replied. "He will never be happy unless he can accept that he is not fully human, and does not belong on Earth."
"He is not fully Antarian, does that mean he doesn't belong here either?" Tess questioned, raising one eyebrow.
Khai pondered this in silence, then said, "Perhaps. But we digress from the issue at hand. I still think that a plan will help you now. It may be your only chance at winning this, at saving us and yourself."
Tess shrugged. "I know," she replied, "but like I said, I don't have the time. Khivar knows I am coming, if I do not attack by tonight…I can't give him time to prepare. The element of surprise is my only strength right now."
Khai shook his head. "But it doesn't have to be. As a commander of an army, I can tell you now that a few minutes of planning are worth a decade of battles."
Tess gave a bitter chuckle. "Don't you think I don't know that? Everything that has happened to me, everything that has lead me to this place… It has all happened because I acted on instinct, acted without thinking. But it's kept me alive so far…"
"It's kept you alive when the only two people you had to worry about were yourself and your son. This is different," Khai objected.
"What would you have me do?" Tess asked. She bit her lip and looked down at the sand. "Some things are simply going to happen, whether we will it or not. No amount of planning can ever change that."
Khai gave her a crooked grin. "Destiny?" he questioned.
"Fate," she replied with her own smile.
"Then it is fitting that you are fighting this final battle at the Mountain of Fate," Khai murmured, looking in the direction of Mt. Sinai.
Tess nodded and shifted Alex in her arms. "Let's walk," she said quietly. "We can come up with a plan as we travel."
Khai gave her a pensive look and nodded, following his Queen as she made her way towards the distant mountain.
Max woke in his bed and rolled over, his head pounding with an intensity he could not ignore. He stood shakily, a wave of dizziness overwhelming him, and walked slowly towards the kitchen, intent of getting some water. Through the darkness of the room, he could just barely make out the moving silhouette behind the closed door to Michael's room, and he knew suddenly Michael too had woken up, feeling the strange sense of fate in the air.
He poured himself a glass of water and took a sip, then another, quenching his parched throat. The headache began to subside, and he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the cold tile of the counter. Then the sound of padded footsteps on the floor alerted him to another presence in the room.
"Michael."
"Maxwell."
"Today. It is going to happen today, I feel it."
Tess would be reaching out to them, drawing on their power to defeat Khivar. Today would decide the fate of two worlds, of two places Max could theoretically call home.
It was a strange feeling, knowing that everything they had ever worked for in the past two years was going to be determined by this one moment in time. Every sacrifice, every risk, every choice they had made had lead back here. If they did not complete this, they would have failed, and the entire planet would pay for it with their lives.
Max thought fleetingly of Tess, and wished he could be there to face the end with her.
"What do we do, Maxwell?" Michael asked somberly, cutting into the hybrid king's thoughts.
Max looked at Michael, then down at the counter, his mind weary. "Call Isabel," he said at last. "Have her meet us over here. We will wait for Tess together."
Michael nodded and left, and Max went back to his troubled thoughts.
Arya watched as the soldiers packed the rest of their supplies into bags and began to file out of the campsite. The scouts had returned from the night before, and they had brought worrisome news. Khivar's army had seem to grow during the night, spreading out over the foothills. Each soldier was armed to the teeth, ready to fight. The Resistance was outnumbered a hundred to one, and they did not even have the home court advantage.
Arya turned and looked out into the distant sun high overhead, rising slowly in the late morning sky. The Landra river snaked back and forth in the remote fields, and somewhere along those banks, she knew the Queen and General Khai were hiding. It was less than a day's walk, but would they make it in time?
The Resistance had to attack soon. The longer Khai had to prepare his soldiers, the harder he would be to defeat. They needed the element of surprise, they had precious little advantages as it was.
"Lady Arya?"
Arya twisted and looked at Ceyla. The alien was kneeling on the ground next to her, waiting for orders. The soldiers were ready to move, ready to engage in a battle that could very well kill them all. All they needed was the order to attack.
Arya stood and drew a breath. She nodded slowly, grimly. "Move out."
Mr. Evans reached for the telephone as it rang, groaning as he glanced at the pile of work spread out on the desk in front of him. It had been a long day, and it was only shortly after lunch. But already the casework was flooding in, and he really did not want any added distractions. "Hello?" he asked slowly, holding the phone in one hand and sifting through the papers that lay in scattered heaps.
"Mr. Evans? This is Sheriff Hanson. I have some news for you, regarding this Tess Harding."
"I told you, Sheriff, I'm not interested in this anymore. I appreciate you taking the time to do this for me, but I don't…"
"Tess Harding does not exist in any file we found."
Mr. Evans blinked. "What?" he asked, not comprehending the statement. "But she…I met her. Last year, Max was close to her. They…"
"The girl you know as Tess Harding may very well have been a real person. But before she showed up in Roswell, we have no record of her every attending school anywhere," Hanson cut in. "I've backtracked a little in the investigation. I searched her school files, and it says she transferred to Roswell High from New York, but when I checked the school in New York, they had no record of her there. They did, however, have the record of another girl who fits Ms. Harding's description and left at the same time Ms. Harding did. A…Sara Baker."
"I don't understand…?"
"And Ms. Baker was only at the school in New York for two years. Her records there say that she transferred from Raleigh High School in North Carolina, but when I checked those records, Ms. Baker did not go to school there. There was another girl, also fitting the same description, and also transferring schools at the right time…a Kate Monet."
"What does that mean?" Mr. Evans breathed. He was fairly certain he knew what it meant, but he had to hear it to actually believe it. He had to hear the words from the Sheriff's lips before he would…
"It means that this Ms. Harding in a chameleon, Mr. Evans. She has a new identity everywhere she goes."
Mr. Evans nodded slowly, having no idea what to say.
Agent Simmons watched as the teacher sorted through her files and chatted easily about the students. He turned out most of what she was saying, not having any interest in the mundane and routine lives of those who attended Roswell High. He was here for one reason and one reason only, and it was not to exchange gossip.
He was ordered to find out everything he could on Max Evans.
Posing as a guest teacher had been a stroke of genius, allowing him access to any background check on any student that he requested.
"…which came as such a shock to us because Ms. Parker was such a nice girl. She just fell in with the wrong crowd," the teacher was saying, and her words jolted Simmons out of his thoughts.
"What?" he asked sharply.
"Well, that Evans boy, he was always so quiet. Actually, he was a little too quiet, now that I think back on it. I should have known he was trouble," the teacher explained, flashing a bubble-gum pink smile that revealed rows of perfect white teeth. Her fake blonde hair cascaded in front of her face, and she flicked it aside impatiently. "He was a charmer though, I'll give him that much, since he managed to get Ms. Parker to follow him. Such a shame…" She shook her head and clicked her tongue disapprovingly.
"I see…" Agent Simmons murmured, his tone indicating that he wanted the teacher to continue.
Which she did.
"Of course, a lot of it started after poor Alex Whitman died. And then one of our other students, Tess Harding, she left as well. Some sort of bad falling out, I believe. And both she and Mr. Whitman were close to Mr. Evans and Ms. Parker, so it was so hard on them both, but especially Ms. Parker." The teacher gave another smile, this time sympathetic. "Poor girl…"
"I hadn't heard about this…Tess Harding, did you say here name was? And Alex Whitman. What happened?" Agent Simmons pried.
"Well, it was quite the tragedy, let me tell you…"
The royal soldiers crouched by their fires, their eyes constantly scanning the dark area around them. They spoke in hushed whispers, comparing stories of the previous skirmish. A sense of fate seemed to hang in the air as though they knew that the upcoming battle would be the one to decide the destiny of their world.
Khivar strode through the camp, appraisingly eyeing his soldiers. They were restless, ready for the next fight. He licked his lips in anticipation, and thought of the events that had brought him to this place. It had been a long and grueling campaign, but today would be the end.
Today the Resistance would die.
Khivar left the camp and walked out of the shadow of the great mountain that loomed above him. Mt. Sinai. In the Antarian language, Sinai meant 'fate.' In one of the major religions of Earth, a Mt. Sinai played a pivotal role in shaping who the people of that faith would become. It was poetic, then, that it was at the foot of this great mountain that the final battle would be fought.
Khivar made his way through the labyrinth of twisting stone until he had reached the great plateau. Mist and fog swirled about the rocky crags. He turned and glanced behind him. The base of the mountain was covered in rocky hills, some hundreds of feet high. One in particular, the highest pinnacle, stood so far above the rest that Khivar had to lean back to see it's summit. Beyond that summit, the mountain itself rose, disappearing into the sky.
"Come!" Khivar called to his soldiers. They were hidden from view behind the rocks, but they heard his call and came to him. The royal army spread out around him like a great tidal wave of bronze and steal. They moved back and forth about him, a living, pulsing, throng.
Khivar strode forward until he was fully out of the shadow. The plateau stretched out in front of him. The sun was rising over the hills in the east, casting fiery red light on to the ground. The light danced in the prisms of dew that had settled on the waves of ocher grass. The air was clear and fresh, the sky a brilliant blue, streaked with the purples and reds of sunrise. The wind hummed and whistled as it flew across the ground.
A silence settled over the soldiers and they turned to face the east, watching as the sun rose. Then, from behind, the sound of thunder like the crash of symbols broke the still morning. A bolt of lightening appeared from the cloudless sky, striking the ground. The grass leapt into a blaze, the red flames of fire licking the ground as they raced towards the royal army.
As one, the army turned and looked at the mountain behind them. The rebel army appeared suddenly, scrambling down over the rocky hills. They seemed to rise like Phoenixes from the flames that licked the ground below them. Standing on the rocks, they were lit from below by the warm orange light of the fire. Each face was fixed in a grim and harsh expression as they glared down upon their enemy.
Today was the day of reckoning.
The royal army moved together, racing towards the rocks. The fire burned around them, scorching the earth and sending pillars of dark smoke into the air. They soldiers coughed and stumbled, their eyes burning, but they pressed onwards. The rebels streamed down from their perches, flying into the fire. Soon the two armies clashed, throwing themselves into the great passion of war.
And then, over the screams of soldiers, the crash of swords, the haze of smoke, the crackling of fire, and the flashes of light, a voice called out. Strong, powerful, and filled with emotion, the voice cried one word to the heavens.
"Khivar!"
And Khivar turned to look.
Rising from the swirling fog and mist, a lone figure appeared on the highest summit of the gray rocks, standing a hundred feet above the army. The morning light hit her hair, making the gold curls shine as though lit from within. Her pale skin glowed with the sweat of battle. Her sapphire eyes were dark, so dark they could have been black, and they shone with an unparalleled cold fury. The last wisps of fog swirled about her feet.
The Queen had come.
Next Chapter: Battle of the Gods
Due: Tues 3/28