but had been unable to step inside the construct. The touch of the ground, consecrated by Vejar, had pained him. It was a holy place, crafted with a faith that eluded him, and so would not permit him entry. He knew that in years to come this would be one of the most holy places in the galaxy.
Still, he had stood there for some minutes, staring at the arch and at the inscriptions, and thinking. Finally, ready at last, he had gone to seek the Vorlon.
He came to the door at the end of the corridor, and noticed the breathing masks next to it. Of course, the Vorlon atmosphere was very different, and very poisonous, which was why they remained in their encounter suits all the time they were outside. Sinoval knew that for the lie it was. They did not leave their suits so as to maintain their disguise, and they kept their quarters poisoned like this so as to discourage visitors.
He did not pick up a breathing mask, nor did he knock at the door. He simply stood there, waiting.
A few minutes later the door slid open, and out came the Vorlon. The eye stalk of its encounter suit swivelled, half in curiosity, half in anger.
Sinoval raised Stormbringer. 'You have been expecting me, no? It is time we spoke.'
Delenn could not remember ever having seen one of the Shadows before. At least, not directly, as she was now. She had seen their ships, and their servants; she had heard their screams, and their whispers.
And now she could see one.
Neroon stepped forward slowly, spreading his arms wide. 'Set her free,' he implored. 'Let her go free.'
There was a buzzing, a furious cry of betrayal. And, deep in the heart of the angry scream, there came the soft whisper Delenn understood. <No.>
'I have sworn my life to you.... but I swore it to her first. How many oaths would you have me break?'
<No.>
'She does not understand. Her ways are.... different from yours, from ours.... She is useless to you.'
<She is ours.>
There was a sudden motion at Delenn's side, and she turned to see Ivanova dart forward, pushing Neroon aside. The warrior was clearly caught off balance, and he stumbled.
'Remember me?' cried Ivanova. 'You promised I'd be safe!' As she spoke she raised her gun, pointed it directly at the Shadow, and fired; once, twice, three times....
Its roar filled Delenn's mind, and she nearly fell. Struggling to maintain her balance, she looked up and saw the Shadow move forward. It was clearly wounded, but it still moved with a grace and speed that surprised her, that seemed so effortless, almost beautiful. It bore down on Ivanova, who was on her knees, her mouth open in a silent scream, her eyes closed.
Without thinking, without bothering to remember all that had happened between the two of them, Delenn ran to Ivanova's side, throwing herself in the way. The Shadow hesitated, its head twitching slightly as it surveyed her.
<You are ours.>
'No,' said a firm voice. It was Neroon. He was standing tall, holding a fighting pike. There was something strange about it. The design was unusual. It looked so old, and yet it shone with a dark power.
'The third betrayal of my oath,' he whispered, his voice solemn. 'Now my doom can take me.'
He moved forward, plunging the pike into the Shadow's side. This time there was no howl, no scream, no attack. The First One simply fell.
'Come,' Neroon said to Delenn and Ivanova. 'It is not dead. We must get to your friend.'
'He's.... here.... somewhere,' Ivanova muttered. 'I.... this way!'
Delenn looked at Neroon tenderly. 'A third betrayal,' she whispered. Warriors had spoken of the significance of the third betrayal for as long as she could remember, but she had never known what it meant. It was a secret thing, whispered only amongst themselves, in tones of horror and despair and terrible, terrible sadness.
'It does not matter,' he said, lying. 'I have made my choices, each and every step of the way. I believed in you, I believed in Ha'Cormar'ah G'Kar, and I believed in them. Come.... we must leave here.'
'It's this way,' Ivanova repeated, heading off along a darkened corridor. It was leading downwards. Neroon at her side, Delenn followed.
The caverns of Z'ha'dum closed in after her, and the very planet itself seemed to tremble.
Chapter 4
The oldest being in the galaxy had been waiting for a very long time. He had come here originally to speak to his children, and to try to help them to understand. None of his other children had, but he had hoped beyond all hope that these would.
They had not.
However, he remembered the way the planet had seemed to react to his setting foot on it. There had been a tremble, and then a soft whisper. As he sometimes did, he had experienced a revelation of the days yet to come, of a crucial change in the endless war, of someone who would come to help end the combat.
Someone who would come here. There would be a meeting here, a meeting that would change the galaxy forever, and herald the beginning of the end times for him.
And so he had remained behind. The children who lived here had been overjoyed at this, perceiving it to be an honour. He had sighed at their lack of understanding, and had resolved to spend as much of the time as he could trying to teach them the truth that they had long since forgotten.
But he had forgotten a crucial truth as well: the universe is the master of time, not any beings forged of its soul. He had deluded himself into believing that, because he was immortal, he had all the time he would ever need.
War had come to this world, and the children here had been forced to flee. They had begged him to come with them, but he had refused. He had wondered idly if the meeting he had foreseen was nigh.
Alas, he had been wrong. The other children, the Vorlons, had come here, winning their phase of the war, winning the hearts and souls of those even younger who would be led by them for the next thousand years. They understood even less than those who had left Z'ha'dum.
Only one of them seemed even to want to understand. Its name was Kosh, and it had come to him, to talk and to learn. It had learned, something at least, but then it had left, ready to go back into the galaxy.
The Shadows had returned of course, and he could feel that the war was starting up again, as it had countless times since the beginning.
This time, though, he could sense that things were different. The ancient Cathedral had risen again, and the Well of Souls had chosen a mortal to be its next keeper. The oldest being in the galaxy remembered both, and dared risk a smile in memory.
The other First Ones.... they were moving, preparing. They could also sense that something was changing. They had tried to talk to him, only to be politely rebuffed. He was still waiting for the one who would come to him.
And now someone was here.
A choice would have to be made, of course. He wondered what the decision would be.
His wait was almost over.
'I have learned a great deal since I last met one of your people. I have seen much, and done much.
'I am not afraid of you. I am not awed by your power. I am not intimidated by your voice. I do not tremble at your footsteps.'
Sinoval raised Stormbringer and extended it. The air seemed to crackle around it. He thought he saw the Vorlon flinch.
'This can hurt you. Forged with fire, forged with fury, forged with the essence of myself within it. It can hurt you. I can hurt you.
'You sent Delenn to her death. You tried to erase all records of this, but you failed. I have a message from her. Tomorrow I will show it to the Council of this United Alliance. Let them see what you are, and what you
