Chapter XXI – Why?

Mu fled the square.

She no longer had a clear idea where she was going. She was unsure whether it was day or night. Time seemed to have become a mess. Space stretched and contracted. And the accusations plagued her continuously.

She ran along dusty streets, at times ruined, at times intact. She felt the need to get away, to get somewhere other than here, but in truth she had no idea how to escape. All she could think to do was keep running.

Yet her running brought her back to the same square.

Once again, she was not alone. Because among the bodies and ruin stood a solitary figure. She recognised him instantly, having seen his ubiquitous depictions throughout the Imperial Palace.

He was a tall and imposing man, a figure befitting his status. He had a thin moustache and short beard. His eyes were dark and there was an unnerving intensity to his gaze. He was dressed in dark blue Aixin robes with gold trimming, adorned with images of five-clawed dragons.

The Tianyan Emperor. Founder of the Aixingo Empire.

Mu came to a halt, panting.

“Mukushen,” he said. “Why do you run from who you are?”

She shook her head. “It’s not who I am. It’s not who I want to be.”

“Yet my blood flows in your veins, does it not? And it is the power of Nara Enduri that allowed you to triumph in battle, is it not?”

“I left the Imperial Court,” she said. “I do not want to be Empress.”

“What you want is immaterial,” said the Emperor, his expression stern and unmoving. “You must carry out your assigned role, do your duty. This is what I did. They call me tyrant and warmonger, yet they are all gone and my Empire, my vision endures. I did what I had to do.”

“You delude yourself,” said Mu, defiance stirring. “You did what you want, dressing it up as some noble cause.”

“Girl,” snarled the Emperor, “You speak of things you do not understand. I was blessed by the Shepherd of Destiny. I saw what others could not. I did what others could not.”

Mu was unmoved.

“What good did it do to slaughter all these people? How was the Cosmos made a better place by what happened here?”

The Emperor walked closer to her. “My girl, there are things far more terrible than this in the Cosmos. It is only by building unassailable strength that we can hope to resist when the inevitable day comes for the great tribulation.”

“What tribulation?”

He came to a stop, looking down on her. “Would you like to see? Perhaps then you will be ready to do your duty.”

Mu had a feeling of deep unease, yet she meekly nodded.

In the next moment, it was as if she was yanked out of her own body. She watched as Karbaliq, then the Kavuktan Desert, and finally all Yarkan receded away beneath her. She gathered speed, stars now flying past at impossible velocities. Soon she was looking down on the galaxy, from the outside. She could see the enormous gleaming spiral of unimaginably many stars. And she could see at one edge, where the shape of the galaxy was starting to warp, a trail of stars being dragged away from the great spiral arm by some unknown force.

The next thing she knew, she was flying once more, this time towards that point where the galaxy’s structure was warped. Finally, she slowed. Before her was an immense black hole, a bright accretion disk of blinding intensity surrounding it as it ravenously devoured stars. Far away from the cosmic monstrosity was a single lonely world – so far from the black hole that even the light of the accretion disk did little to illuminate it. Yet it was still bound to the black hole’s gravity, slowly proceeding through an immense orbit of millennia.

Mu’s unease turned to dread as she came closer to this lonely world. Soon she was plunging through noxious clouds of smog and then she was looking out on a word of decaying industrial ruin. Factories of fantastical size crumbled amidst the hazy gloaming that shrouded everything. Enormous construction machines lay in disintegrating piles. Metal piled atop metal; nowhere was there any sign of anything natural. It wasn’t even clear where the ground was – the factories seemed to be built atop factories, canyons between them disappeared into abyssal shadow, walkways crisscrossing them at many heights.

Mu raced among this tangled labyrinth of manufacturing decay and collapse. Everything appeared lifeless, even as she plunged into one of those immense iron canyons, darting rapidly between the walkways and cables and girders, moving with dizzying speed. Then at last she emerged and an immense platform revealed itself. At its centre was what could only be described as a throne – yet it was no ordinary throne. It was made of chains and gears and all manner of machinery. And it rose to the height of a mountain. Vast pointed metal beams radiated out from the top of the throne, like the rays of an iron sun.

But more startling than the throne itself, was its occupant. A being large enough to warrant such a throne, an iron titan. It was covered in armour and Mu could see intricate conduits, gears, chains, pistons and the like across all of it, yet despite this robotic detail, the overall impression was of the archaic armour of an ancient warrior. The being wore an immense tattered cloak of red, that flowed down around the base of the throne. Out of its monstrous helmet its eyes shone as if they were gateways to a hellish furnace.

Mu now realised she was standing on that derelict world and she felt small, very, very small. Out of the corner of her eye she saw movement and turned to see the Emperor was standing beside her.

“Where are we?” she asked.

“Whatever this world’s true name, it is long forgotten by time, yet some refer to it as Nox Aeterna. What you saw was the Oblivion Star. It is unique, for while we know of many Awakened Stars, It is an Awakened Black Hole. And in Its infinite malice It is determined to devour everything.”

Mu shuddered. She gazed up at the titan atop its mountainous throne. “And that?”

“That is Its Theophant, the Cosmokrator. A war-machine built by a long dead civilisation to fight a long-forgotten war. Millennia after the war had ended and all that fought in it were dead and lost to memory, it woke once more and received the Oblivion Star’s Theophany. Now it seeks to carry out the Oblivion Star’s will and devastate the Cosmos.”

“It isn’t moving,” said Mu.

“It has been dormant for countless ages, yet I have foreseen that the day of its assault upon the Cosmos will come. Its agents – the Iron Praetors – are already loose in the civilised portions of the Cosmos and preparing for that day. Everything I did was not for mere glory or out of pride, but rather to ready humanity for what I knew was coming.”

Mu was silent. She took in a shuddering breath.

“Others have been strong, but even their strength proved insufficient against this evil. The Philosopher King, Lysander of Elysia was mightier than any man in history before him, but he was broken down by the Iron Praetor Seraphel the Corrupter and he made the Black Pilgrimage to Nox Aeterna to bow before the Cosmokrator. Now he too is an attendant of the Oblivion Court, the Iron Praetor, Lysander the Betrayer. When the Cosmokrator stirs and the eight Praetors gather at the Court, there must be a counterforce, mightier still. That is my empire. The Son of Nara Enduri will call the Eight Banners to war and the Cosmos will tremble before our might. We will cast down the Praetors one by one and obliterate Nox Aeterna and its iron lord.”

Mu could see the fire in the Emperor’s eyes. His presence was less that of a man, and more that of a God.

“I was strong. Stronger than any before me. But will my successors wield such strength? Or will they forsake their duty? Will you?

“You’ve seen it, haven’t you? Many times now: what happens if you cannot do what you must. Your dreams have long been filled with visions of the dark day when the Iron Praetors come. You’ve seen many variants of it, many possible futures. You’ve seen the Imperial Court devastated, you’ve seen the beast that devours stars… surely you must understand that these dreams are bidding you to do your duty.”

“What can I do against that!” yelled Mu, stretching her hand out to indicate the Cosmokrator upon its throne.

“Nothing if you flee from duty. Nothing if you reject your inheritance. Nothing if you are unwilling to do what must be done, as I did,” said the Emperor. “Your pathetic quibbling over these ruins in the desert tells me you are far from ready, yet I know that one day you will no longer be able to turn your back on destiny.”

Mu looked at him, feeling anger well up inside her. “Quibble…? You slaughtered an entire civilisation. What did that have to do with this thing? You speak all high and mighty, you try to justify yourself by spinning this story of being the saviour of the Cosmos, but you slaughtered millions without a thought. Laid waste to a world that is still not recovered. There is no justification for what you did, and I will forever reject your legacy!”

The Emperor looked at her with those arrogant eyes. “Even having witnessed the Oblivion Star, you are not ready to renounce your foolish ways? Very well, die in this desert. There are others of the imperial blood who will take up the great cause.”

Before Mu’s eyes the vision of that far-off industrial hellscape dissolved into swirling sand and she stood once more in grim Karbaliq, alone.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Tavian saw Kal and Harry and ran over to them.

“Any luck?” he asked, suspecting he knew the answer.

“Nothing,” said Kal.

“We asked around, but no one saw her leave,” said Harry.

That idiot, thought Tavian. She was supposed to wait.

“She’s left,” said Tavian, “I’m sure of it. You saw the message.”

“What do we do now?” asked Harry.

“Well, Chinor – the Yarkanese guy that took us to that damned Qam – seemed pretty sure that Mu was gonna get herself killed if she went out beyond the protected zone,” said Tavian.

“Well, we should probably try and prevent that,” said Harry.

“We won’t be able to find her by air in these conditions,” said Kal, gesturing to the thick clouds of sand that were swirling around Karbaliq.

“I can probably find my way to this place she’s going,” said Tavian. “The spirits around here seem to like me more than her, so maybe I’ll have an easier time of it.”

“So, we’re just going to split up and head out there one by one to get lost in the sandstorm in the haunted ruins?” asked Harry. “I must say, it sounds like a wonderful plan.”

“You got anything better?” asked Tavian.

“Well, we could all go?” said Harry. “Strength in numbers, right?”

“I think that would be more advisable,” said Kal.

“Someone should wait here so that when the storm clears, we can do an aerial search, if necessary,” said Tavian.

“I still don’t see why that means you need to go alone,” said Harry.

“I just think I have the best chance of making it out there,” said Tavian. “It’s difficult to explain, but it’s just a vibe I get.”

“This a Starflow thing? Don’t tell me you’re seeing the future too?” asked Harry.

“It’s not like that, I’ve got no idea how this will turn out, but I’m confident the spirits will let me pass,” said Tavian.

Harry looked sceptical. Tavian looked Kal’s way.

“This isn’t my area of expertise,” said Kal, “If you think you can do it, I guess I’ve got no choice but to believe you.”

Tavian turned back to Harry.

“Eh, if the Big Guy’s okay with it, I guess I am,” said Harry. “Just remember, if everything goes terribly wrong, I did initially object.”

“If I’m still alive under such circumstances, I’ll be sure to give you credit,” said Tavian.

“All I ask,” said Harry.

“If you’re heading out there, we’ll need to get you a sand suit. You’ll have a better time of it if you’re wearing one,” said Kal.

“If you could sort that out for me, I’ll get my supplies ready and familiarise myself with the route. I’m guessing visibility isn’t going to be great anytime soon.”

“Well, if you’re doing this, I guess someone should let Ostara know what’s happening,” said Harry. “I can give her a live count of how many of us have gone missing in the ruins. I’m sure she’d appreciate that.”

“Alright, everyone knows what they’re doing, let’s get to it,” said Tavian. “Mu’s already had a big head start and plenty of time to get lost or attacked by evil spirits or whatever.”

With that he made his way back towards the tent to get supplies.

I really hope you haven’t gotten yourself killed.

Mu tried to refocus herself. It took all her concentration to bring herself back to the present.

You are in Karbaliq. The First Emperor has been dead for centuries. The ruins are deserted. You are going to Özgünyaylaq.

The square was empty now. There were no fires, no bodies, no Emperor. Yet her mind was constantly straying, her sense of time and place utterly warped. The constant voices meant she did not feel totally alone. And in amongst the whispers, some voices were becoming louder and clearer now.

“You will perish here.”

“Your world will be destroyed as ours was.”

“Surrender to the sands.”

It was tempting. She felt a great exhaustion, like she hadn’t slept in days. Thirst too. She wasn’t even truthfully sure how long she’d now been among the ruins of Karbaliq. Try as she might, her mind struggled to order events.

“Just keep going,” she said, out loud.

Which way was it again?

Just pick a way.

Any way.

Just keep going.

Squeezing her eyes shut, she tried to remember.

Just a short journey.

She began walking. She wasn’t sure if it was the right way. But as long as she still had some of her mind and her will left, she wasn’t going to give in to voices.

She crossed the plaza, past the fountain and into one of the streets beyond. She could still see very little, the sand continued to cover everything. The little lights of the dead continued to dance about in the distance, never lingering long. And yet it was not long before she once again found herself back in the plaza, just as she had previously.

The frustration erupted in her.

“Why are you doing this!? I am not him! I do not want to be like him! I want to help!”

Daughter of ruin! Daughter of ruin!

The voices chanted their accusatory refrain.

She felt the uncertainty creep in again.

Maybe the Emperor was right. After all, she had been experiencing the visions – the memories of the future – for a decade now. And had the Grand Astronomer not told her she would be Empress? Was there no escaping it? Did she not also draw from the well of Nara Enduri’s power? If Nara Enduri had granted the Emperor Theophany, was the fall of Karbaliq not also Its will? If Nara Enduri willed her to be Empress, who was she to defy the will of a God?

She shook her head.

She still had the power to choose.

And choose she would.

“Maybe I bear the guilt, maybe I don’t!” she shouted. “I can’t change the past. But I can change the future! Give me a chance. Let me pass!” she shouted into the Tempest.

For a moment she stood still, her breathing heavy.

Then the voices seemed to die down.

The wind seemed to die down.

A small figure emerged on the far side of the plaza, coming towards her. A moment later and she could see it was a child.

“Hello?” she called out, her voice seeming much louder in the comparative quiet and calm.

“Hello, miss,” said the boy, coming closer.

“Hello,” she repeated, quieter this time. With the sand no longer billowing around, she lowered the silk scarf from her face.

“You’re not from here, are you miss?” said the boy.

She shook her head.

“Have you come here to hurt us?”

“No! No, absolutely not!” she said. She attempted a smile, “I want to help.”

The boy examined her, his eyes not suspicious, merely curious. Though there was something else there too. Fear. Not of her – at least she didn’t think so – but fear nonetheless. “I can’t find anyone else,” said the boy. “Not since everything became strange.”

“I’m here with you,” said Mu.

The boy stared into her eyes with an intensity she’d seldom seen in a child. “Maybe you can come with me then?” said the boy. “Mrs Bukaqizi and the others need help.”

Mu nodded, though she was already developing a grim expectation about what she would find.

She followed the young boy. The streets seemed less hostile now that the storm had died down.

And the voices are no longer speaking their accusations.

“It isn’t far, but we must hurry,” said the boy. “They are hurt.”

At length they reached the crumbling ruins of an old gate. The city walls were long gone, but parts of this gate still stood, looking out on the empty desert beyond. Though they could have crossed out of the city at any point, the boy still led her here.

“We’re almost there,” he said.

They crossed the threshold. The boy with his small limbs clambered over the rubble of the gate. Mu lifted her robes to prevent them snagging on the remains. For the first time she stepped out into the open desert, beyond the limits of the Black City.

She surveyed the rolling sand dunes, looking for any sign of their destination, but saw nothing.

“Which way now?” she asked the boy.

“We just need to follow the road. It’s always quicker to take the road,” he said.

She saw no road, but perhaps the boy did. Presumably one had once led to that gate and so he set out.

I guess even roads have ghosts.

Perhaps the road would have been quicker, but Mu found herself struggling across the deep sand, especially when they hit even a slight incline and it would tumble away beneath her footfalls. The boy stopped frequently as he guided her and she did her best not to slow him down. He was keen to reach their destination.

The dead road lead between two high dunes. The going was tough. The sun, no longer obscured by the thick plumes of sand, beat down with a ferocity Mu had not previously experienced. The steep course the road now took served to exacerbate the difficulties of crossing the deep drifts of sand. Yet she pressed on, for despite these difficulties, she felt in many ways lighter now. Exhausted, hot, thirsty – but the weight of the whispers, the images of blood and flame, and the relentless Tempest had taken a great toll on her psyche. Even to no longer be hemmed in by the pitch-black stone of Karbaliq was a great relief. There was a freedom to the boundless expanse of the open desert.

By the time she reached the saddle between the two great dunes, Mu was feeling acutely the strain her journey was putting on her. Running, fighting, now battling her way up the face of these dunes, all the while the sun beating down relentlessly. At the back of her mind, it also occurred to her that she was thirsty, but she was focused on the task at hand. She could drink later.

“There it is!” said the young boy excitedly.

He pointed into the depression ahead of them. There Mu saw a small oasis – far smaller than the great lake and poplar forests of Karbaliq. Around the edges of the water, amongst the trees, were scattered ruins. They were not much to speak off – mostly just the odd pit of crumbling stone protruding through the drifts of sand. If anyone had ever lived here, it had been a very long time ago.

“I see,” Mu replied to the boy’s enthusiasm, feeling a sense of deep sorrow.

“If we hurry, we might be able to help Mrs Bukaqizi and the others. And Barin! He’s my best friend. He’s very strong, so I’m sure he’s okay… oh… but he still might need some help. We need to find Böri too!”

That word stabbed through Mu’s mind. “Böri?”

The boy gave a little laugh, the first she’d heard from him. “Oh, not like a warrior. All the Börilar are away fighting in the war. Böri is the dog who lives near the school. He’s not very brave, so we thought it would be funny to name him that. Haha, he’s nice though and very cute! He likes scratches behind the ears.”

Mu swallowed. The boy reached out his hand. Tentatively she took it. Feeling how small it was in hers.

How cold.

He led her down the hill and she struggled to keep up.

Finally, they reached the oasis.

Unlike earlier in the plaza in Karbaliq, there was no shift in time here. A slight breeze blew across the oasis, offering a modicum of relief from the sun’s heat. The branches of the trees rustled. Some sand was displaced around the fragmentary remains of a long-gone settlement.

The boy let go of Mu’s hand and raised both of his to cup his mouth. He called out.

“Mrs Bukaqizi?”

“Barin?”

“Böri?”

There was no response, but the desert wind.

His voice was softer – more fragile – when he called out again. “I brought a nice lady to help.”

But still there was no answer.

The boy was confused. He looked around him. “It’s strange… I don’t remember everything being so covered with sand when I left.”

Mu felt tears welling in her eyes. She tried to conjure up the right words. “I guess… I guess it doesn’t take long for the sand to pile up out here in the desert.”

The boy shook his head. “No… not this fast. It doesn’t happen this fast. Something strange is happening. Let’s keep looking. We’ll find them.”

He grabbed her hand again and pulled her along.

There was a rustling behind them and he spun around. “Böri?”

But it was only a fallen branch, bouncing along the ground.

The breeze let up and the branch fell still. Neither Mu nor the boy spoke. There was a silence there. Apart from the wind it was a silence that spanned centuries.

The boy looked up at Mu.

His eyes were sorrowful, but there was newfound understanding there too.

“I know you can’t really help us,” he said. “You’re not in the same time as us… but it was still nice of you to come.”

Mu’s voice caught in her throat.

“We’re dead, aren’t we? Me? Mrs Bukaqizi? Barin? …Böri?”

Swallowing, still unable to speak, Mu nodded.

“Why did we have to die?” he asked her, his cold, lifeless hand gripping hers tighter than ever, as if seeking to gain just a little of the warmth of the living.

She thought of the histories she had read. Of the campaigns of the First Emperor. She thought of that far off world, orbiting its black sun, with its machine throne and its machine ruler. She thought of the splendour of the Imperial Court, of the plum orchards she had played in with Gorjin and Ruyin.

She shook her head.

“I don’t know.”

The boy’s gaze held her own.

“That’s alright.”

The wind picked up again. In an instant its ferocity had returned. Before Mu’s eyes the boy dissolved into sand and was gone, swept away to become one with the Tempest once more.

She heard his voice a final time. “You’re a nice lady. Thank you for coming.”

Reality came crashing back to Mu. Exhaustion and thirst came as one. Everything she’d been ignoring became inescapable. She fell to her knees, then sagged to one side.

Her eyes closed.

She lay in the sand.

The Tempest raged.