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Authors: Damian Shishkin

Tags: #Fiction, #Action & Adventure, #Science Fiction, #Adventure

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BOOK: Ghosts of Lyarra
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The room was broken, stripped down and empty. It began to jar his memory some, but it was like a shadow in the fog; you can tell it’s there but you can’t tell what it is. But all it was doing was stirring up the mire in his head, and with no further clarity forthcoming he moved on and down a
hall.

He found himself next in a large office with the door hanging off the hinges; he remembered this room and the man that resided within. An image of an older General cleared from the fog and a conversation between the man and him murmured in the background. The words weren’t clear, but the tone was hostile and threatening; obviously the two were at odds with one
another.

No more insight came from the room, so he led Iana down the hall, down a dark and dank stairwell and down to a few floors below ground. Here, the doors were gone, but the room opened up on a display specimen tank. It wasn’t familiar, but he thought it stirred a memory from someone else’s point of view. The feeling was quickly fleeting, so he moved past the display and followed a sign hanging from one side that read ‘lab’ and in a few moments he stood in the middle of what was one of the more expansive rooms they had seen thus
far.

He knew where he was, and it was not as foreign to him as much of everything else was. Aen had been here before; the room had all the telltale reminders of his last visit. They had arrived in the medical wing; the very same place he had torn apart twice over. For the first time in a long while, Aen began to remember things as the scorched walls and melted metal gurneys stirred something to clear the
fog.

His fingers ran across the charred walls as he walked; the texture of the cement and ash struck him as his memory rushed back. The lights above his eyes as he was strapped to a bed and wheeled down a hall, the smell of antiseptic and the voices of various doctors all felt like it was happening again. Aen stumbled from the sensory overload and held his weight against the
wall.

“What is it?” Her voice sounded like it was miles away, though Aen knew she was right by his
side.

“I remember.” He
stammered.

“What do you remember?” Iana
asked.

“Pain.”

Aen righted himself and resumed his pace down the hall, the whole while his fingers never leaving the surface of the walls. Over concrete, drywall, and metal framing his fingers ran; the whole while his memory sparked continuously. He remembered the feeling of being drugged, the feelings of being trapped within his body and being detached from its senses. It was a flood hitting the dam that had been blocking his mind, as leaks formed while quick bursts of memories snuck through. His body was now on automatic as it led him to a place he couldn’t quite remember with Iana closely
following.

Looking up, or more like opening his eyes to see, Aen realized he was standing in the middle of a grand room. Above, there was a viewing lounge and the floor showed markings where equipment once stood. In the center lay a massive glass tube, one that had held something that was being studied. As he looked about the room, it shifted from a barren and stripped down dark hole and became the room as it was years ago. He saw the row of Generals in the room above; all glaring down to observe the experiment below. He saw the rows of machines whose purpose still evaded him but the sounds they made chilled his soul. His gaze followed the row until he came upon the glass container which contained the subject of the experiment; him. It was an odd sight to see; Aen was looking back in time at himself strapped into place with needles sunk deep within him. He could see the changing of the body which was once human and now becoming the shell which would arise, the weapon of his maker’s desire. Aen felt the glass beneath his palm and felt the echoes of his own screams; the dam which once had cracks, now broke completely and he began to remember
everything.

Falling to his knees, a scream of agony rose from the depths of his soul and echoed through the dead facility. In one instant, Aen went from remembering nothing to feeling every jab of a needle, every bullet and knife to pierce his flesh, and the loss of his family. He felt the stinging regret of a love never realized with Lyxia; the longing his whole being felt to be with her and the weight of the decision that carried him across the galaxy to his exile. It was the very thing he sought for, but as it overwhelmed him he wished it was something he had never
found.

Then he felt himself whisked away from his nightmares and reality both. He found himself standing on the beach of Nammaran, staring outwards to the ocean that encircled the rest of the globe. Aen wasn’t sure why he had been brought back here, but he was sure as hell not going to waste time searching for those that wanted him; the Prophets could damn well come to him! So he stood and enjoyed the view, but he didn’t have to wait
long.


It is not the way we wanted it to go
,” the voices started in unison from behind him. “
But it has been none the less effective. You have peered further into the darkness than us, and discovered far more than
expected
.”

“This isn’t a game.” His voice was reined in as he kept his anger in check. “I have all but declared war on the Empire. It is only a matter of time before they find us and destroy all I wish to
protect.”


But you have planned well, and they do not look on Terra Sol. Time is on your side; for
now
.”

“So you dragged me all the way here to pat me on the back?” Aen was seething in fury. “What an amazing waste of energy and effort. Surely you have more to say than just riddles and compliments or this is going to get old real
fast.”

It was a sound he didn’t expect; footsteps on the sand behind him approaching slowly caught his attention. But it was the voice that came next that caused him to turn around at last and take notice; it was a voice he just remembered and one he never thought he would hear
again.

“I didn’t bring you here to waste time.” The woman’s voice sang out softly. “I brought you here so you can see the full weight of what you will face soon, and what lies waiting for you beyond the
darkness.”

“It can’t be.” Aen stammered. “You can’t be
here!”

But the woman continued her advance on him, and he clearly wasn’t imagining her identity. In the sand before him stood the very being that began his journey; the same creature whose blood changed his and created the thing he was now. Standing in front of Aen was the former commander of the Amarra, the leader of the search for the Harbinger, and his mother;
Ameia.

“Why can it not be me?” She asked in a sultry way. “Energy doesn’t die; even the physicists on Earth agree on that. So how is it that you refute my new
existence?”

Aen didn’t answer; he couldn’t. The last time he had lain eyes on Ameia was during the recorded holo-display on the floor of the United Nations assembly, and by that point she had been dead for nearly a
year.

“I made myself worthy of the company of the Prophets with my self-sacrifice to bring the Harbinger into existence.” She continued. “And for right now I am allowed to be a single entity rather than belong to the collective energy that makes them what they are. For you, my son, I will set aside this wonderful new existence to offer you guidance; that is, if you will have
it?”

She held her hands out to him with arms outstretched; her skin shone brilliantly in the setting sun with a hue of bronze Aen wasn’t sure could ever be possible. She was more beautiful than any previous image of her had ever been and he was unable to resist in taking up her offer. His hands rose up as if by themselves and met hers. In the instant of contact, her essence rushed through him like
lightning.

“There is much you need to know, and very little you can reveal to Iana until it is time.” Ameia began as she led him down the waterfront as the waves kissed their feet. “You now know the name of that you seek, but the one behind it has yet to reveal
himself.”

“And in a world that the female rules, it is truly something that takes notice that I keep hearing the male reference to the true enemy.” Aen finally was able to speak again. “What can you tell me about this man that hides behind the curtains; pulling the strings of his
puppets?”

“If only I could reveal it all to you.” She said with a smile. “But my bringing you here borders on interference as it is; revealing the path you must take is not
permitted.”

“Bullshit!” Aen said in frustration. “Thus far all I have gotten from the Prophets has been interference. For once, can you and your newfound friends cut the crap and just set me on the right
path?”

“You are on the path you need to be on.” She answered coyly. “Yet its destination is the thing you truly fear. For at the end of the journey, it is you that sits upon the Throne of Light; it is your destiny that you fear more than
anything.”

“And you have me save Iana only to take what is rightfully hers? This doesn’t even make
sense.”

“When one enters a star system, does the planet they seek not seem blurry or faint from the far reaches of the star’s light?” Ameia stopped and turned to him. “That is a point in time that has yet to be determined, and your life being that of an eternal leaves a lot in the in between to be interpreted. From this point, it is unclear of how you get there, but the destination is still
there.”

“So she will die after all?” he asked
somberly.

“The Mori are not as you; and though there are two left, they do not live forever and both have been around for a great long time. In the end, it is all beings destiny to join the stars and become energy once more; theirs is no different than all
others.”

“So why save her
now?”

“Because her part is not finished, and her destiny unrealized. It is not the will of the Prophets that such a great being be cut down by the Temple we created before she can complete what she started. Your enemy grows restless, and she will show herself for all to see soon. When she does, you will know the time to expose her and all her kin to the Empire of Light.” Ameia looked on seriously. “You must purge that which has become poison, and return the house of the Prophets to the light before the darkness descends. Because when he makes his move, time will be of the essence and the Empire will be pushed to the brink; and maybe
beyond.”

Aen felt her hands fall from his, but in reality it was that she slowly faded from her physical form as a ghost fades from sight of a loved one. Her time was up, and her smile warmed his heart as she was gone like the morning mist. Aen stood alone on the beach with the tide lapping at his feet. His memories swirled about his mind as for once he was whole; mind and body healed as one. Then it was his turn to fade from the shores of Nammaran and return to his body light years away on Earth. He felt the rush as he was flung back into his body and his lungs gasped for air the instant he arrived. It was more of a reaction than a need, but it was enough to rattle his companion who had been cradling his lifeless body for some time
now.

“I thought I lost you again.” Iana said, pulling him back from the nightmare and back to the
present.

“I am whole again,” he whispered, “but I am now as broken as
ever.”

A quick look around, told him he was lying on his back with his head in her hands. The walls that were white in his memory became grey and peeling once more. The glass he had propped his hand against was shattered and smelled of mold. He felt the air change from busy and sterile to dead and musty. Aen was back in the here and now and felt Iana’s arms around him as she desperately held on to
him.

“It happened
here.”

“I know.” She replied
softly.

“They took everything from me here.” Aen muttered his eyes darting around the room. “This is where we both
died.”


Iana watched in silence as her companion suffered with every new room. It wasn’t her place to interfere, so she remained there for emotional support and glad she could be part of his self-discovery. For too long, Aen had been nothing more than a ghost of what he should be; an emotionless machine of pure power. It made her feel more helpless than she had as of late; even before Aen’s epic ‘death’ he had been a bit of an enigma. For most of her life, she had been able to shape other’s emotions to help them along; manipulate others to not only decide their needs but to keep them from more suffering than
possible.

But here, she was helpless as she could see Aen’s steel resolve dissolving in the mire that was his past. The ghosts that had plagued his forgotten memory were making themselves known now; in his own personal hell, Aen was being assaulted from an unstoppable force. Yet it wasn’t her place to intervene, so she simply followed him about. From the broken entrance way to the building, to the empty and musty office, to the horrid and ghastly medical wing, she watched him suffer inside as his memories toyed with him in flashes before disappearing
again.

Then she got distracted; the sight of the specimen tank froze her in her place. Here before her lay the instrument in which the humans had imprisoned Ameia and it couldn’t be a more appalling sight. It was broken and partially melted with shards of shattered glass floating in the murky liquid inside, but none the less it was still no more than a coffin for the living. Iana was enraged that such horrors had been inflicted on one of her children, but her anger lessened as she remembered that Aen had enacted more than sufficient revenge on all those
involved.

BOOK: Ghosts of Lyarra
11.12Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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