The sky was on fire as large spike-covered ships shot spike-covered spheres toward the strange city. When the spheres hit the ground, they burst open, spilling out armies of spike-covered monstrosities.
Sarisa recoiled from the vision.
“What are those things?”
Tschisch did not respond. Instead, it waved its hand and the image shifted, now showing the creatures who lived in that city. She recognized them from the drawings found on A36Z—the Aenu’th. They were dying in droves as the invaders swept through them, slicing with their sharpened fangs through flesh and bone as easily as if it were butter. Nor were they picky. They slaughtered both castes indiscriminately—the larger valad’eth and the smaller gh’enem’d.
The wind blows and the stars weep.
She remembered reading those words on the walls of the ancient ruins. Only now did she understand their meaning, the horror that they conveyed.
“It is a cleansing, yes?”
Startled, she looked at the Riizsch.
“A genocide, more like!”
Tschisch pointed. “Look.”
A bright light appeared in the distance, growing quickly. Every time one of the fang-covered monsters looked at it, its skin burst into flames.
“They are reaping what they sowed,” she muttered as she watched the tide change.
None of the Aenu’th seemed affected, but the invaders melted, as did the spheres that had brought them down. More dropped from the sky—but these never landed as they exploded in the air. The light then turned skyward, engulfing the ships above. Those touched were vaporized, while the others fled.
Sarisa’s eyes widened. “That light! Is that...?”
She turned to stare at Tschisch.
The creature nodded as it waved its hand once more, and the image shifted again.
There was the beam, identical to the one she had fallen into. She thought she even recognized the structure around it.
“That’s Anethra! But then... I don’t understand. If they won the war, why is their city gone? And where are the Aenu’th?”
“They won the battle, not the war.”
“Oh. Then they are dead?”
“We are all dead. None are. Everything is the same.”
“What?”
“Look.”
It waved toward the floating image. There was a flurry of movement within as events sped up, showing years within seconds. The repeated attacks, the constant repulses, the eventual dismantling of the city, and the mass migration that followed.
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
When the vision faded, she turned a frown to the alien.
“Why did they do that? Why leave? They were winning!”
“Not all species crave war.”
She stared at the Riizsch. “You mean they would rather give everything up than endure more fighting?”
“They hoped the enemy would stop, but the Liinrith never stop. Sometimes it is easier to rebuild than to die.”
“But that... that thing... the beam of light... It’s still there! That’s how I got here. Why did they not take that with them?”
“It was not theirs to take.”
“What does that even mean?”
“Energy belongs to the earth. It cannot be taken, only used or ignored.”
She ran her fingers through her hair, trying to understand everything she had just seen.
“Did the Liinrith chase after them?”
“They found new targets. The universe is infinite.”
It waved, and new images appeared. Scenes of many wars, with different civilizations.
“Has anyone ever won against them?”
“No.”
“Not even your people?”
“We will not meet.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“The universe is infinite.”
“Well, yes, but—”
Sarisa paled and her eyes widened as she stared at a new scene of destruction.
“Wait, wait, pause! Stop!”
The image froze and she pointed at it.
“I know that world! That’s Ovkan! It’s in the Imperium. I’ve been there. Are they... Are they attacking us now?”
“Yes.”
“Oh God... This can’t be happening!” Her head snapped as she looked back at the creature. “How can we use that beam... that energy against the Liinrith?”
Tschisch hesitated.
“One who wields it is more at risk than one’s target if one does not master it.”
“Then teach me!”
“I cannot.”
“Why not?”
“You are not the right person.”
She frowned. “How can you know that?”
“I have seen your mind. The knowledge would destroy you.”
“Then we are doomed!”
“Find one other, and perhaps you are saved.” He pressed his hand against her forehead and she felt a peculiar sort of warmth spread through her body. “Now you will know when you see him.”
She shuddered as he pulled away and straightened.
“I must go back!”
“Yes. Come.”
The creature turned and stepped into another hall. She followed and, a few seconds later, they reached a room with a large hole in the ground. Above the hole floated an egg-shaped device, its hull smooth and black.
“What is that?”
“It will send you back to where you were. Through the Og’neh.”
“The what now?”
“Ah. It is a borrowed word. In our language, it means gap.” He pointed to the hole. “It connects worlds through space and flow.”
“Flow?”
It repeated the word it had used before, which she understood to both mean ‘before’ and ‘after.’
“You mean...”
She cursed as she still couldn’t find a way to say ‘time.’
Tscisch pressed his hand against the dark surface, and a panel slid open. He motioned for her to step in.
“Touch nothing. The machine will take you where you need to go. It will be quick.”
“You’re not coming?” she asked anxiously.
“I have duties. Go. Be safe.”
She climbed into the strange device and glanced over her shoulder.
“Wait! How can I contact you when I find someone you can teach?”
It pointed toward her head. “I have gifted you that knowledge as well. You will know.”
“Thank you, Tschisch.”
The Riizsch inclined its head as it pressed its hand against the device again and the panel closed between them.
She looked around and saw a seat with controls all around it.
“Well, he said not to touch anything, but I’m sure as hell not going to just stand here while—”
The panel behind her slid open.
She swung, startled.
“Did you forget—”
Her jaw dropped as she recognized the scene.
She was back in the ruins of Anethra.
Except the beam of light was gone, and the device floated above a pit, much like the one she had seen earlier.
A metal plank came out of the floor and extended to the ground. It was large enough that she felt she wouldn’t risk slipping like she had before.
Sarisa stepped onto it and carefully made her way to the ground.
She swung around and saw the plank retract. The panel closed, and the beam of light returned, as if it had never left. Within, she could still make out the shape of the device. It blurred, and then it was gone.
“Well,” she muttered, “that was something...”
After staring for a couple of minutes, she shook herself, turned, and hurried back to her ship.
