Star Gods: Book Four of Seeds of a Fallen Empire

  “Who are you? What am I doing here?” he demanded when he sensed her presence, his voice like an injured animal fending off a predator.

  The cloak she wore hid her reaction from him; she was glad it did, for he might have mistaken her smile to mean something other than what it did. She found her heart soaring with the sincerest relief, and a sense that she had been saved from a terrible mistake by his fortitude. In all the years she had been hiding from Sargon to avoid facing her own conscience, her spirit had slowly been suffocating under her guilt. Now, however, the unconquerable spirit of the man before her restored her to her own. Now, she found, she also wanted to live!

  “Hush. Rest. Save your questions until you have recovered,” she told him, seeing that he needed more time to recuperate, that he was falling back towards the oblivion of sleep despite his struggle to keep from it. Now, however, she was certain that he would at last recover.

  At the same time, she knew she deserved his mistrust of her. What had she ever done that had not caused more harm than good?

  For a long time, her duty had been keeping her alive, reminding her what she had to do to avenge the explorers and Hinev, reminding her that she had been given great responsibility to use her power to protect the innocent, to do all she could to win back her soul.

 

  * * * * *

  Ekasi Eiron Vaikyure-Erlenkov left her several months later, sent out on an errand to create a rescue fleet and negotiate a peace. After the deaths of Seynorynael’s doomed population, Alessia had no intention of losing the people of Tiasenne and Orian, no matter what she wanted for herself.

  She watched sadly as he climbed to the top of the cliffs and waited for the rescue ships to hone in on his frequency, then boarded a Tiasennian fighter sent to retrieve him and disappeared in the vast emptiness of infinite blue sky.

 

  * * * * *

  Alessia’s mindlink with Seleral was over.

  Standing on the bridge of Sesylendae, Selerael gave a start as Alessia's memories of what had happened on Rigell–among them memories Selerael vaguely remembered from her own early childhood–flashed through her mind. They had forgotten the presence of the others.

  At long Selerael knew the identity of this man who had followed her all her life, Sargon, Great Leader of the Orians. A haunted man, a tormented soul, that had been an instrument of the evil that coursed through his veins.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Selerael staggered back a little, disoriented by the sudden shift of thoughts, time, and place as the artificial reality of the mindlink faded. Her mother’s memories now faded, and she was back in the present, on the bridge of the starship Sesylendae, which orbited the planet Tiasenne near the star Rigell.

  Only a moment had passed on board the Sesylendae since Selerael had hugged her mother Alessia. The others from Selesta stood at a little distance behind Selerael, watching the strange reunion between mother and daughter with an uncertain curiosity. As Selerael pulled away from Alessia's arms, she looked into her mother's eyes and for the first time truly saw the connection between her mother and herself.

  What a strange and wonderful gift this was, to know another human being so completely. In some way, the mindlink had made up for all the years she and her mother had been separated.

  I see now, why you want to leave the world, mother, Selerael thought. And why it would be so very wrong of me to ask you to stay with me.

  Alessia gave her a bittersweet smile, then made a slight gesture to welcome the others inside.

  "You must help the people of Tiasenne escape this system." Alessia said in the Earth tongue of English. For Selerael’s comrades were all from the planet Earth.

  Selerael laughed at her comrades’ reaction; after all her Earthling crew had witnessed, Alessia’s ability to speak their language had still surprised them.

  "Selerael will explain.” Alessia continued. “The Seynorynaelian Empire thought the lai-nen system had died out, but a handful of survivors remained. Now the civilization has flourished again, with one purpose in mind. To eradicate the seeds of a fallen empire, to repay an old debt. But the people of Tiasenne are innocent of Seynorynaelian wrongdoing. I don’t doubt a costly war will come, and Tiasenne could lose billions of people again. Thus far I could do nothing to help them. Sesylendae could not hold them, but Selesta can."

  "Will they leave?" Adam, Selerael’s son, asked, looking at his grandmother, and recognizing an undeniable trace of himself in her face.

  "Some might, young Adam." Alessia nodded, surveying him with keen eyes that judged his worth. For a moment she was distracted, measuring his character and coming to satisfied conclusions regarding him; she had known who he was since he entered her chamber: Adam Dimitriev, her grandson. "But you must take those who will," she continued, "starting with my loyal retainers here. Find a system untouched by the Seynorynaelian Empire, and begin again."

  "Won’t you lead us?" Specialist Derica asked, looking towards the woman she knew now as Selerael’s mother and instinctively trusting her.

  "No. I won’t leave Sesylendae." Alessia shook her head firmly; they knew she meant what she said. “But you can contact the Tiasennian government from here. They will not doubt the truth of any message sent from Sesylendae. Whatever they decide to do–either to remain and defend themselves or take your offer of evacuation, you must lead away those who would leave."

  Selerael looked at her mother and nodded. "I’ll protect them, mother. I swear it."

  Selerael, I’m sorry that it was you, and not me, not me because of my weakness, who made the journey to Kiel3. Alessia thought. It seems that you are the one whom the Enorian legends told of, the one who must bring about the end of the Empire, and not me. Promise me that when you have found a world for all our people, you will return to the Great Cluster galaxy and find Marankeil, that you will end his evil reign.

  “While there is breath in my body,” Selerael said, her eyes hardening.

  "Oh, Hinev," Alessia cried out unexpectedly. "I couldn’t do it. I wasn’t able to atone.”

  “Yes, you were, mother!” Selerael shouted, trying to calm her.

  Alessia stopped, now looking at her daughter expectantly.

  “How?” She dared to ask.

  “Through me,” Selerael replied, with the same integrity that had been Eiron Vaikyure-Erlenkov’s. “I’ll take up your mission, the mission of Hinev’s explorers. And I’ll stop the eternal Emperor, you have my oath.” Selerael vowed. “No matter how, no matter what I have to do. The Seynorynaelian Empire will die with me.”

  * * * * *

  Why the devil had no one tried to stop him? Sargon wondered as he reached the Sesylendae without resistance. The uncanny quiet of the ship disturbed him.

  "The end and the beginning"–the meaning of her ship struck him with its irony. For here his long journey had ended, and yet he hoped for a new beginning at long last, with Alessia at his side.

  Alessia, did she remember those peaceful days so long ago on Tiasenne? A flood of memories came back to him. He was surprised to hear the cry escape his lips, a cry that voiced the regret he did not know he could still feel. Wasn’t he immune to guilt’s power?

  He had anticipated reaching her again; now so close, he could no longer sense her presence, though he now knew she had remained on board the Sesylendae. The unknown Seynorynaelian woman was also nearby.

  He disembarked and hurried to the main observation window where he knew he would find them.

  * * * * *

  As he approached, he spied the body on the floor under the canopy of stars beneath the far viewport.

  His steps were loud; time seemed to be standing still.

  He sucked in his breath, as he approached his greatest fear and looked upon it.

  The hardened shell of omnipotence that he had grown, layer by layer over his heart, crumbled t
o dust.

  No! He thought, overcome by despair. No!

  It was Alessia lying on the floor. Alone.

  His feet picked themselves up of their own accord; he found himself running.

  He knelt beside her, took her hand. A pulse.

  Alessia was still alive!

  He forgot all of his anger and resentment towards her, his hatred; the cruelty and bitterness left him, dissipating into the air, where he now looked upon them as though they had belonged to another being, even as his own soul cried out in remorse. The knowledge of what he had done in his blind obsession struck him with rage and frustration. He had to force away the memories that urged him to despise himself and who he had become.

  There was only time for Alessia now. He couldn’t seem to think of anything else.

  He knew, somehow he knew she was dying.

  As she stirred beside him, strands of her thoughts became clear to him. She was losing control of her mind-shield. So, he was able to see an image of her in his mind's eye, when she at last found the secret of Hinev's suicide. She had waited for one thing only before introducing herself to Death: for Selerael to return.

  The answer was so clear, simple...

  What was it? He tried to pry that thought from her mind, but it remained barred to him.

  Something about Alessia herself, something about her physiology could defeat Hinev’s serum, if she wished, if without hesitation she at last desired Death to come to lead her back to Enor, the tapestry of light...

  Something about an anti-serum death... Hinev’s anti-serum...

  The semi-sentient particles of her body now prepared to give up their energy to the universe...

  Sargon wasn't willing to let her go! He held her against his chest in a tender embrace, willing the life-force from his body to sustain her, willing her to live...

  Then, drawing upon the last of her dwindling energy, Alessia opened her eyes and looked at him, registered his presence. He carefully released her and pulled himself upright enough so that he could see her face.

  “Sargon,” she said in a gentle voice, the voice he remembered from childhood. That voice loved him, cared for him.

  She looked into his bright eyes. There was relief in her eyes, no longer defiant and unwavering, as she saw that the obsession and frenzied ambition that had seized him like a madness after the serum had retreated. “Terin, you’ve come back for me,” she said.

  “Yes?”

  “I feel so cold. So...”

  “Alessia–”

  “You see, I’m dying. I’m leaving this world–finally leaving it.”

  “No, Alessia—“

  Suddenly, he stopped. Alessia struggled to remain awake, pressing her shoulder into his leg. She opened her eyes again, but the lids were half-shut.

  “I’m so sorry for what I did to you.” She said, in a voice that was tired and thin.

  “Help me,” he insisted.

  “I destroyed your life. I am sorry. I would help you if I could, but—”

  Dear Terin, remember long ago I told you not to cry.

  She sighed, clutching his fingers, feeling the warm touch of his lips on her forehead as he bent down to kiss her.

  Then Alessia, daughter of Enor, died.

  Sargon cradled her to his heart. In the midst of his embrace, her body disintegrated in a burst of light energy.

  When Sargon came to himself some time later, he looked about himself and saw nothing but emptiness in the vast universe and a long eternity of exile from the reality he had known.

  But then he saw that in death, Alessia had released the silver vial hidden in her hand.

  Her last gift to him.

  The anti-serum.

  * * * * *

  In the communication center, Selerael telepathically saw her mother die.

  With Alessia’s death, Selerael knew it was now her duty to take up the responsibility of leading the people to a new life; at the same time, all she wanted to do was scream, scream to a fate that had been unfair to her, to time that was unfair and indifferent to all.

  When Alessia left the world, she felt a horrible cold shadow falling over her.

  Even though she had known that Alessia wanted to die, her mother’s death was no less a devastating shock to Selerael. She found herself wishing she could go back and prevent it somehow, futile as the thought was. And she felt horribly, utterly alone and naked in the eyes of the universe.

  Then she heard Sargon's silent lament and excused herself from the others. In the end, near the end, all of humanity, even Sargon, had no thought of dissembling his emotions. The ancient man-relic of Tiasenne's past still lingered as Selerael entered the observation room. Sensing her presence, he turned quickly.

  “Who are you?” He asked in Orian, a language she now knew as well as any.

  “I am Selerael.”

  “You–” He stopped, his eyes wide. “You’re Alessia’s daughter.”

  “Yes,” she said.

  “Then you must forgive me–or not,” he said, swallowing, “for I did you a great wrong–”

  “I know.” She said. “I know all about what you did to my father. I also know–that there is no sense in judging you now.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Should I blame my mother for making you what you are? After losing so many dear to her heart, should I blame her? Should I blame Hinev, for not having the foresight to understand what evil his serum gift might spread? Or shall I blame myself, for refusing to see the truth about myself for so long, when I might have spared countless lives sacrificed to protect me? I no longer believe in absolute good or absolute evil, you see. I do not even know what constitutes these things any more. I only know that anyone who inflicts injury has already endured it, and that we must somehow live with ourselves as best we can.”

  “You are Alessia’s daughter,” he said, smiling at her, seeing that the same multi-colored light danced in her blue eyes; the same beautiful, unwavering face met his gaze. His face was calm when he finally looked away.

  Then Selerael saw the anti-serum device he had received from Alessia, a vial with two silver, twisting snakes writhing over clear metal. He had grasped it in his own, but Selerael had interrupted his decision.

  Now Sargon's eyes returned to regard it, and he brought it to his own arm, releasing the anti-serum Alessia had created, not unlike the virus that had destroyed Hinev's explorers. Sargon felt the anti-serum in his veins, moving up his limbs like burning ice, but he didn’t care about the pain.

  Sargon turned to face Selerael one last time–and abruptly released her father's memories, memories he had carried buried in his mind for more than an age, never knowing that when he robbed them from Eiron Vaikyure-Erlenkov in that deep mindlink that he would never be rid of them; they had taken residence in his mind, and to uproot them would have destroyed his own.

  Selerael felt them hit her and staggered back. She saw the memories, felt them, but without a mindlink they could do her no harm.

  They were the greatest gift Sargon could have given her. Sargon–she saw him in a tragic light, despite what he had become. She found she could no longer hate him.

  Now, Sargon's eyes found the viewscreen, where Tiasenne returned in a crescent, driving away the fading light of the stars. He took in his last breath with great control, and exhaled a deep sigh, as if a long nightmare had ended. Feeling himself slip away into a deep, unconscious sleep, he sank to the floor. His last thoughts were of Alessia and of their past together long ago on Tiasenne.

  Sargon died.

  * * * * *

  Selerael quietly returned to the others in the communication center. She heard her steps and thought of how far she had yet to go in her life.

  "Are you all right?" Toriso asked, his dark brows peaking with concern.

  Selerael didn't answer; she had noth
ing to say. She had no concept of what his question truly meant or how to answer it. “What have the terrestrial Tiasennians decided?” she asked.

  Toriso sounded disappointed. "My Tiasennian is bad, but I think they've chosen to stay. They don't think they need us–they believe the danger is real but–they don't know what Selesta is. And they don't want to leave their homes."

  "Do the people know what's happening?" Selerael asked the head Tiasennian, Sorbin.

  "Not all of them, but the Council did distribute the main beacon." He answered, wondering why she was looking at him with such respect.

  "Well, Sorbin, that isn't good enough for me," Selerael shook her head. "I promised I'd warn them, and so I’m going to," she added in Tiasennian and in an iron tone. Sorbin regarded her with an expectant look, as if anticipating something significant. The daughter of Alessia could do nothing less.

  The only problem was, he hadn’t a clue what she planned to do.

  Selerael was silent a moment, then, a pale light grew around her, growing so bright that they were forced to look away despite their curiosity; she knew they were curious, but they would understand everything in a moment. They heard a message, a message she sent to the world below and out into space, where it would take several minutes to reach the other nearby colonies.

  All Tiasennians, hear me. My name is Selerael, and I speak from Sesylendae, the guardian of Tiasenne, now, and for so many long years. I have come far to bring you this warning: war is coming to this system, a war that could destroy you. There is but one certain way that you will survive, and that is to escape. I have a ship that will carry you all to a new world, if only you will put your faith in me. I will be waiting for those who are willing to put their faith in our integrity aboard Selesta.

  “Mother,” Adam said. “What about the Orians aboard Enlil? Who will lead them now?” He said, meeting her gaze with steady cobalt eyes. “I know, mother. I saw what happened to Sargon–and Alessia.”

  “What should we do?” She asked, looking to him, seeing that he already drawn together a plan.

  “Well, if you’re asking me, I think we have a story to tell them. It begins a long time ago in this system, a story about two brother races that never knew they shared the same origins. Isn’t that why Sargon gave you your father’s memories? So that two peoples could live once again as one? So that a dream of peace could be brought to a divided nation?”