'Problems outside. Problems inside also, but bigger ones outside. Rift is…. collapsing. Will not hold much longer. Zathras is afraid something has happened to Great Machine, but nothing Zathras can do about that now. We must free Captain Sheridan…. send him and Delenn back to their ship, and…. must do one other thing. Then…. we get back in time quickly.'
'Do we have time?'
'There is always time…. but Zathras understand you, yes. We have time…. if the rift can be kept open long enough. Zathras…. cannot do that, but Zathras knows Vorlon who can.'
'Kosh.' The Vorlon turned. 'You can keep the rift open?'
<Yes.>
But Valen understood just how.
'Life energy,' said Zathras sadly. 'Powerful thing…. if used properly. If used by one who knows how.'
<A bargain was made…. long ago. I go to do my part.>
The Vorlon moved to the docking bays. Helplessly, still burdened by the weights of destiny and duty, Valen followed. Delenn and Zathras were just behind. Kosh turned to Delenn, and spoke just one word.
All around them, the Shadows began to appear. Ivanova was in the middle of them, as was Sheridan.
Kosh was still, and then…. his encounter suit began to open.
The others there would no doubt see it in different ways. Delenn would witness a confirmation of futures past and present, and a reaffirmation of the path she was to take. Susan Ivanova would see the sorrows of her life, and all those waiting for her at her death, and she would be drawn closer to her redemption. Zathras saw…. who could tell?
But as Kosh purged his essence, channelling his life energy, sacrificing his life for the good of the past and the future, it was the man called Jeffrey Sinclair, the Minbari called Valen, who saw most, and understood most.
The mistakes of the past opened up to him. Marrain's hubris, the Tak'cha's misinterpretations, Parlonn's tragedy. But he knew them now for what they were. He would build a future, a great destiny. He would save a people from destruction. Those mistakes…. they were not fatal, they were stepping stones on the way to that future.
Marrain's fate would lead to his redemption a thousand years later. Parlonn would learn a terrible truth and save his soul. The Tak'cha would gain a focus and a duty through his words.
Good and evil. Right and wrong. Both were a part of him. There had to be a balance. Always a balance.
Human and Minbari. A balance.
The light faded. The Shadows were gone.
He was standing still, tears streaming down his face.
She ran, terrified, everything awake in her mind. Her mother, her brother, her father, her first love…. She could see them all. All dead. Each and every one of them dead. She had to do something. She had to do something.
The Vorlon…. his light…. it was taking her to pieces….
She stumbled and almost fell, but managed to right herself. She had lost her weapon. She felt she had lost her mind. There was…. pain…. in some part of her, a part she could not quite identify.
The Vorlon was everywhere. It was this station, it surrounded this station. It was…. everywhere.
She had to get away.
And Susan Ivanova ran, making for the docking bays. Perhaps she could reach a shuttle, or even go for a space walk. She had to get away from here. She had to get away from the Vorlon.
'Where is she?' Delenn asked, looking up from Sheridan. He was groaning and wincing. 'Where…. has she gone?'
'She will not be allowed to escape,' Valen said. 'No, Delenn…. she…. she has something else to learn first. This was a journey of discovery for all of us. For her most of all.'
'So…. you're just going to let her get away?' protested Sheridan. 'I don't…. aaagh! I don't…. understand.'
'She has to learn something. One day…. you will all need her, and when that day comes, what she learns today will save both her, and you.' Valen looked at both of them. Sheridan and Delenn. He could see what lay ahead of them now, one last gift from Kosh. Prophecy, or foresight, or footsteps…. He could see the chains that bound them all together.
Sheridan to Delenn to Neroon to Ta'Lon to G'Kar to Zathras to Valen to Delenn to Sheridan to Corwin to Ivanova…. A thin, fragile series of connections that would preserve and guide the future.
'What about the rift?' Delenn asked. 'It was…. degrading. Do we have time?'
'Yes,' said Zathras sadly. 'Yes…. we have time. All the time we need. Time…. is infinite.'
The streets were dark as Elrisia claimed her hiding place. It took her a moment to catch her breath, but at least she was warm in here. It was too cold outside, and her courtly clothes provided little protection.
The humiliation of it! A Lady of her rank forced to hide in a hovel like some worthless peasant! Damn Cartagia, and damn Mollari. She had heard the cries of his acclamation as she fled, and that must mean Cartagia had been killed. The only satisfaction she had was the news of Valo's capture. At least that was one pretender removed from contention.
This was not over yet, not by a long way. She had allies still, most of them away from the Court now it was true, but it would not be hard to regain a position of power. The military perhaps. Valo must have had some admirers from whom she could elicit support. Truth was variable after all. Spreading dissension against the new Emperor Mollari would not be difficult.
Yes, she would have her time.
And when she was ruling once more, she would punish everyone who had brought her here…. to this wet, cold, stinking hovel of a warehouse. It was one of the few places she could hide, admittedly. Oh well, tomorrow she would be able to leave the capital and get to her estates out in the country. From there….
There was the sound of movement behind her, and she sat up. 'Who is there?' she asked. There was silence. 'Answer me! I am a Lady of the Court!' There was no risk in announcing her identity. Hardly any of the nobles or courtiers would be here, and she assuredly had nothing to fear from any grubby peasant or petty merchant.
'Answer me! I order you.'
A torch was lit, and a figure came dimly into view. There were more behind him. He was walking slowly towards her, holding his torch aloft. Others were lit.
'Who are you?' she whispered, scrabbling back against the far wall. 'I am a Lady of the Court. You will all be whipped for this. I order you to….'
The leading man spoke, his voice disgustingly low class. 'The Darkness is coming,' he whispered, and raised his torch high enough so that she could see his eyes. They were gleaming with a powerful madness.
He then threw the torch at her feet. Screaming, she tried to roll away from it, but by the time she had reached a standing position, her dress was already on fire.
'I'm a Lady of the Court,' she cried. 'I'm a….' She screamed as the flames began to lick at her hair.
'The Darkness is coming,' said the leading Shadow Crier.
'The Darkness is coming,' echoed the others obediently.
