Above Waters

Ayaht; Sky Castle dreadeth knought. Their homeworld turning fast to dust, the great engines of the Never War, their old shame, redeemed the nine-thousand-year-old ascetics with those mystic generators mated to the bones of their old home. Biomes formed by nature's will and air breathed by celestial grass welcomed lovingly the millions running from the Onslaught. They devoured Ayaht, the Brethren, tearing chunks off as it fled and bled. They tore at her until she floated in thirds. Then came the feast, and evermore it's been a ritual, to release their swarms who come home with meat and metal for their exodus shrines. The final stage of the gambit was fought in the last remains of her hull; the universe's pain and Solomon's greatest trophy.

"I've never seen an acolyte so naturally gifted," he told her.

They were atop Aiyat's pale corpse. He stood, she sat; both were on its brink.

"Fuzon said the opposite."

"Of course he did." The vitriol in Solomon's voice was palpable.

The blue-green light of the tesseract shifted like sun-glinted water. Ona placed her elbows on her thighs and laid her head down in her palms. Her temples ached. She looked back up, taking in the wild energy drifts of the tesseract in hopes their beauty would take her mind off her confusion.

"Why would they want to hold me back? And then abandon me?"

"Probably because Fuzon sensed who you are. The others may have thought they could use you to lure Imogen somehow. Then they saw your aptitude and were eager for an opportunity to be rid of you. But I can only speculate. What I can tell is that they wanted you to find me."

"Why?"

"Because they knew that if Imogen were here, you would convince me to follow her. And that is the only way Fuzon can find her. They're playing a complicated game. Risky. I doubt they predicted Eno."

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"What are we going to do?"

"Wait."

"For what?"

"The meeting of the syzygies."

Ona put her head in her hands again and groaned.

Solomon laughed softly. "It's a philosophy, also known as the meeting of opposites. Imogen will come to us, with Fuzon and his harem hot on her heels. With you and I present they will fail to kill her."

"So she used them to get me here, then led them away while you trained me, and now she'll be leading them back here?"

"That's the long and short of it."

"There's nothing short about this plan."

He laughed again. "Well, shall we train some more?"

She looked at the corpse she sat on. More harrowing than Solomon's dreadful power was the interior of that ancient tomb. The Surge did their work well, leaving only this small portion of such a massive vessel. And the faces of the fossilized population inside... What could cause such fear?

"So you're not going to abandon your plan to take Ulro?"

"What gave you that impression?"

She shrugged. "If you follow Imogen, who will continue your plan?"

"With the Burning Ones gone, no one. I am abandoning this run, Ona. If there were hope of saving it, Imogen would not want me to follow her."

"I know. I just... I've seen a little of it and... It's sad."

"Yes. It is."

She felt sick. "What are the Surge, Sol?"

She could hear him sigh as he sat down next to her. "A punishment."

"Punishment for what?"

He took her wrist and turned her hand over. The gift of ohr in her hand glowed brightly.

"For not valuing this."