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| Story ID: | 3840 |
| Written by: | Schuyler Rahwn Thorpe (bio, contact, other stories) |
| Organization: | NA |
| Story type: | Fiction |
| Location: | Everett WA USA |
| Year: | 12006 |
| Person: | The Source, Keron, Gravis, Leona, Bayen, Isis |
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(I'm in a good mood tonight--doped up on peanut M&Ms--so I'm going to add one last chapter for this month; so that everyone can enjoy at their discretion. :0) ) *** Off to the side of the Arena, Keron found herself shaking her head. An utter disaster. Even for her. She said with grave disappointment in her voice. The single shard, the Source of Chaos, hovered right next to her. Patient. It is not within my right to judge those who have failed, Keron. That isn’t why I had done this. Keron glanced up at the shard. And just what was the whole point of this exercise? You saw how the Chaos ability drove her mad! Almost to the onset in this case! The spirit deity argued. She could not control herself, Keron. The Source reasoned. There is a big difference in what happened. However, if you will recall, she did not use the power that I gave her for destructive purposes. That is her saving grace. Keron didn’t have an argument there, seeing that the Source was right after all. So how are we going to be able to stop her from being driven insane by the Chaos ability? She asked. We can’t. That is entirely up to her. However, we can guide her, the Ancients willing of course. Keron watched Bayen cradle Isis gingerly, even though the one named Leona wanted nothing more than to ventilate her. The sight reminded her of the times she spent with her life mate, Darin, before he died at the hands of a cosmic space-born parasite known only as the Devourer. Keron recalled the tenderness and love he had for her. Remembered all those centuries they spent together crisscrossing the cosmos as a force to be reckoned with. But a force for good, not evil. If only Jared was here…she thought, wishing she knew what the final fate of her son was. Even the Ancient Ones did not know if he perished or not. When Keron opted for Valeria to check the Chamber of Silence for her, she came back and informed the Starchild of Tyree Prime that her son wasn’t among the millions of past, present, or future Starchilds’–those that had been interred since time began. Those that had given their lives in service of the Realm and in the Ancients themselves. Keron treasured the words that the Watcher voiced on that troubled day, so long ago: “Do not despair, Keron. This just means that your son is eternally lost somewhere in the space/time continuum. Far away from this plane of existence, but still very much alive. I sanction that given enough time, he will find you, and the two of you will be reunited at long last.” Keron allowed herself a sad sigh, but took heart in the knowledge that while her son might still be alive…she was not. * * * Gravis had kept his distance since Leona threatened to vaporize the surface dweller, but braved the outpouring glare coming from her as he closed the gap between him and Bayen; handing him the shard in the process. “Here.” He said quietly. “Isis dropped this when she collapsed.” Bayen gave Gravis a nod of silent thanks and pressed the shard into Isis’s hand and closed it. “You know,” he said in a soft, joking manner, “for a surface dweller, you can certainly get into more trouble than I.” He laughed softly at his own off-handed remark, but knew that the situation was more troubling than he wanted to first admit. The Starchild had indeed come back. But came back being so…destructive. Had the legends been wrong? Could the archives have been wrong as well? Bayen thought to himself, but could only stand by and wait until Isis came to. * * * Just like a dream, a mighty fog bank had rolled in, carpeting everything in its path. The only thing that was visible (from her perspective), was the roof to her home in the Golan Desert. Zing! Scene change. Now she was Shark’s Bay. At the transit terminal where she had gotten off. But the whole place was eerily devoid of any human activity. The banks, rows, terminal stations… Everything was working fine. Well, almost everything. Isis quickly found that none of the lifts were in working order. The cars were there, but the tubes below were…gone. Isis found this a bit unsettling. Am I stranded here? She thought to herself, getting out of the car, and heading out of the terminal, down the escalator, and past the empty checkout terminal station where she had previously gave it her card. But on some subliminal level, she knew that she had none on her person. After all, this was just a dream, wasn’t it? Isis stepped through the door without incident. No one challenged her. The surface dweller found this a bit strange. Where is everyone? She thought to herself. In response, a cacophony of sensual laughter filtered through the air towards her. Miiiiiinnnneee…. The word carried long and far on the tortured silence. There was nothing else to do the honors. After all, there was no wind to speak of. Isis walked forth on what appeared to be Level 1774, past Fran’s Art Shop. She walked up to it, surprised to find it to be devoid of any activity. The display window was not empty, however. The center portrayed the picture of the legendary Starchild. The one wearing the black and gold two-piece costume with an emblazoned yellow star, a coin-sash for a belt, discus-styled weapons on each hip. Not to mention the red boots on each foot. Isis studied it, finding it to be a bit strange. Why is it here? She thought to herself. There was two other portraits, one, was impossibly an excellent caricature of her, dressed in the snow white one-piece costume, which didn’t mirror the other Starchild’s at all. The look on her double’s face resonated strong of madness, one that was driven solely by the need to destroy and conquer. “No…” Isis whispered in cold shock, backing away quickly, hoping to put some distance between her and the display window. Unfortunately, everything else vanished and she was still faced with staring into the window, and into the third window portrait. This one showed a dazzling display of colors (present in Bayen’s dream), and pulsated with an indescribable powerrrr– She looked down at herself, finding her attire to be changed to mimic her double’s, complete with the Chaos generators on each wrist and fingertips, and the blasters slaved to each hip. But the madness was…gone? Isis didn’t know what to think. “Second chances are extremely rare in circumstances such as yours, Isis McGowan.” A familiar sounding voice broke through the mist and the ether that now surrounded her. “Cherish them while you can. Always.” Isis looked around and found herself staring into the eyes of Keron. The former Starchild from Tyree Prime. “I don’t…understand…?” Isis stumbled about, trying to come up with the right words to aptly describe her situation. Keron stopped within a few feet from her. “It is clear that you do not understand what has happened to you. But we do.” Keron explained. “We?” Isis asked in confusion. “Who is this we?” “The Source of Chaos. Myself. Even Tarnek knows. But he has been away far too long to fully grasp what has taken place here.” “Then tell me!” Isis ground out, fear rising up inside her. “Tell me what the hell is going on and why I am dressed like this!” Keron studied her for a moment, then said, “One would know the true hallmark of the Starchild. The one that you saw earlier in the display window, was one of us from so long ago. But she died in a heroic battle which saved three star systems. Her name was Jenia Solanek. The other is another representation of you, Isis McGowan.” “I…already figured that out.” Isis responded remotely. “But what I don’t understand is why.” Now it was Keron’s turn to be confused. “Why? Why what?” “Why was I chosen?” Isis put forth evenly. “You weren’t chosen. At least…not yet.” Keron answered evasively. “Bullshit!” Isis countered angrily, her eyes taking on a peculiar glow. “What would you call what I did in that brief skirmish with Leona?” “A test.” Keron said. “The Source of Chaos didn’t want you to be left completely defenseless. So it, ah, ‘augmented’ your abilities with its own powers and such. We were expecting a moral display of admirable restraint, but not one of such gross incompetence.” “Are you calling me a failure?” “No. You passed without resorting to violence and wanton murder. It showed. But the Source terminated your powers and abilities, including the Chaos ability.” Isis nodded knowingly. “So this is all just a dream then, huh?” “Of course. It wouldn’t be otherwise, if it wasn’t. This setting allows you and I to converse without interruption. But it also gives me a good insight into the kind of person you are, Isis.” “And that is?” “Given time and training, you will become a great Starchild of Ancient Lore. But for now, you must absolve the madness which still lingers deep inside yourself, before you attest to using the Chaos ability once again.” “But–” Isis began, but Keron cut her off. “Think about it, Isis. The power to wield Chaos is wholly unfathomable, even by our immortal standards. You must find that which is a balance, strike it when you are able, and utilize both the power of the Starchild and the Chaos ability. If you can do that, there is nothing in this universe that can stop you.” “Why?” Isis asked. “Why is it so important that I must become the legendary Starchild now?” Keron stared at her in an uncomfortable silence. “Because your world is in danger, Isis McGowan. If the Starchild isn’t realized soon, the God of Insanity will come, and annihilate your world and everyone in it, into utter oblivion. Just like He tried the first time.” She revealed, then gradually vanished into the ether–leaving Isis alone to ponder over what had been said. But she didn’t have to wait long. A shadow fell across– |
