Revelation

could very well kill me, if it wanted.

I swam outward, toward the island. After a few moments, the liquid of the pool only just began to soak my clothing. It was easy to stay above the surface — the liquid pushed me upward, obviously much denser than water. Its current pushed me along, so much so that I could probably have ceased all motion and it would have carried me straight to the island. Ripples rather than waves emanated from my position, bouncing off cave walls, advancing ahead toward the island. When I was halfway there, the first of my ripples made it to the island’s shoreline. The man’s form stiffened, but he gave no other reaction.

I knew who it was, long before I arrived. It was the Wanderer. I increased my speed in order to meet him. He was the one who would give me answers to all the questions that had been haunting me. The glittering walls of xenofungus were strangely peaceful as I swam along, nearing the island.

I gasped as something grabbed my foot. A cold, fearful sweat poured from my body, but subsided when I realized what it was. My foot had merely touched the lake bottom. I placed both of my feet on the ground, surprised to find that it was much shallower than I had anticipated. I stood, the slime trailing off me in waves, rushing back to join its larger part in the pool. Within moments, the entire upper half of my body was completely dry. I stepped the rest of the way out, and the rest of the slime flowed off me, crawling down my skin and clothing to be absorbed into the xenofungus. It tickled a bit, making my skin tingle. I rubbed my arms, trying to remind myself what normal felt like.

Thankfully, the sensation was soon gone. The goo was now gone, and I realized that everything in here was alive. It was a startling realization. I wondered if even the air I breathed — warm and pungent with a spicy, alien scent — was filled with xenolife. It was truly like being on another world.

The Wanderer still had not turned. He was garbed in the same brown robe and hood I had seen him wearing over two months ago — the very same I had seen in my dream. I climbed up the incline of the small island and stood just a few feet behind him. The silver tree’s limbs hung above me, a blending of Earth and non- Earth. It was like no tree I had seen before. Its bark was pure, glittering silver, and its delicate trunk rose from the xenofungus gracefully. Spindly limbs protruded outward, beginning perhaps twenty feet high, from which more limbs grew, sprouting thin, pink leaves that had glowing silver spots. It gave a sweet, natural aroma — something I could not place, but that was familiar. Whatever it was, it was a familiar smell, full of a sad, ancient reminiscence I didn’t understand, something buried primordially deep, something so true as not to have words. It was like remembering the happiness of childhood from the perspective of an adult — bittersweet longing, smelling a dream, or reality as it was meant to be.

It was hard to describe, but I could see why the Wanderer had chosen this spot for his meditation. I thought about trying to get his attention somehow, but I merely stood, trusting that he would sense my presence. I had a feeling he knew I was there. I could only speculate as to why he summoned me.

The Wanderer finally stood, turning to face me. His eyes, like mine, had gone completely white, set in his wrinkled, ancient face. Long, white hair was obscured by the hood of his robe, and his long white beard gave him a sagelike, and perhaps even a wizardly, appearance. The beginning of a smile was on his lips.

“I was worried you would not come,” he said.

I said nothing in reply. I was overwhelmed by so many questions that I did not know what to ask first. I did not know if it was even okay to ask.

“I had nowhere else to go.”

The Wanderer nodded, indicating the ground. We both sat across from each other, legs folded. He looked at me, waiting for me to go on.

“So, I’m one of you guys now, right?”

My voice had no problem carrying, now. The fungus and the air did nothing to impede its progress. I realized then that speech is a peculiarly human form of communication. These creatures had no need of it. They had the xenovirus and the xenofungus to communicate with each other in their own language — if it could even be called language. Sound might be involved in their communication, but it was nothing like what we called “speech.”

“I told you this long ago, Alex. That it all hinged on you. Do you still believe that?”

I wasn’t sure, anymore. Now that I was infected, I probably wouldn’t be fighting alongside my friends anymore.

“I don’t know if I believe that,” I said. “That’s why I’m here. I want answers. I want more than what I saw in that dream.”

The Wanderer nodded, expecting me to say that. So he had dreamed it, too. It was a reaffirming sign that I was not crazy.

“You will get your answers, Alex. Though they might be a bit…overwhelming. It is the nature of truth to be overwhelming.” He paused a moment, looking into me with those eerie, white orbs. “You are Elekai, now.”

I paused for a moment at the unfamiliar world. “Elekai?”

The Wanderer nodded. “And when you and your friends destroyed the Xenolith, you dealt us Elekai a mortal blow.”

“The Xenolith?” I frowned. “You mean the spire?”

“I imagine you thought you were helping. But it’s just another setback. We will rebuild, somewhere else. We will run, before they come.”

I had no idea what, or who, the Wanderer was talking about.

“You mean, the Xenos? Samuel calls them that. Are they coming? And if they are, when?”

The Wanderer looked at me quizzically. He and I were talking about completely different things.

“They are already here,” the Wanderer finally said. “The Xenominds. The first is in Ragnarok Crater. The second…”

The Wanderer paused, looking at me. I was confused for a moment, until I realized who the second one was.

“You are the second,” I said. “You are the New Voice.”

The Wanderer smiled, nodding. “I am not the New Voice. Merely a Voice, because we are many.”

My mind spun as I thought of the implications. The Wanderer had told me that he was not just a Voice, but that there were more of them. If that was true, then we could never find them all. And even if we did, more would rise in their place. We couldn’t just kill these spires — these Xenoliths, as the Wanderer called them — and be done with it. This invasion would always have direction if there were more Voices to contend with.

Worse, I was an unwilling participant in it — infected, but not completely turned. It made no sense.

“You mentioned the Elekai,” I said. “What does that even mean?”

“Alex, that is the crux of this whole thing. When you understand what it means to be Elekai, then you will know everything you need to know to stop this. To save this doomed planet from its timeless fate.”

I sat, listening, and the Wanderer began to explain.

This was going to be a long story.

Chapter 19

“For millions of years, on hundreds of worlds, there was war — a war very much like the one playing out now, on this world. A war that has happened ever since the rise of the Xenominds, three hundred million years ago.”

Three hundred million? How could this be that old? Nothing existed that long. It seemed impossible, ridiculous on its face. But I decided to listen, all the same.

“There were always two sides of the Xenominds. There were the Elekai, the Gardeners. And then there were the Radaskim, the Destroyers.”