4 Fracture

29.01.2022

I’ll find him.

The Kingmaker rose up.

No!

The urgent plea from the Wizard fell on deaf ears. He had to know. Going where he had already lost two parts of himself was a horrible idea, but he couldn’t just sit here and do nothing. Because the Warrior was still somewhere out there, he was alive, and he had to find him, help him, bring him back. It was of utmost importance before something worse could happen.

The portal he opened up glistened in all colours of light, bridging the point between two universes and his mind ached under the intense effort of even keeping it stable, holding one fixed point between two massive, ever moving forces. The portal whistled sharply as the cold air was being sucked through it and after breathing out deeply he stepped through.

Instantly he lost the ground under his feet, the sense of wet coldness of the brisk autumn day on Galast replaced by the dry coldness of space. Whatever rest of air had been in his lungs escaped his body as he was suddenly floating in space. For a brief moment he had to fight the reflex to breathe, but it passed quickly.

The Kingmaker felt the pleasant tickle of the sun’s radiation on his face as he looked quickly around.

He turned and for a moment he saw it, the vortex tearing itself into space, ripping reality around it apart in a show of fantastical light – and then, before the Kingmaker could have done anything close to formulate a plan of what to do next, in the absolute silence of space, the vortex collapsed, imploding into itself and leaving just a faint glimmer in the darkness before it too vanished and there was nothing left of earth.

Only darkness.

The vortex was gone – but even if it had held longer, he doubted he would have dared to go through it. Ravalor couldn’t lose three parts at once.

There were ships too, those that had followed the Prince of Treva back to earth and those stationed around earth before, far enough away to not be consumed by the implosion as well. He could only imagine the chaos on their decks now.

Earth was gone. And somewhere behind him was still an army fighting whose home had been vaporised to nothing and their last prince disappeared. Soldiers, officers, engineers – who all had promised their loved ones to return. Now in a twisted turn of fate – they would be the only ones surviving. Most wouldn’t even know it yet.

A few turned to face Mars and join the now desperate fight to prevent absolute annihilation, but the prince’s flagship stayed right where it was. Maybe waiting for Aeven to return against all odds. He locked onto it, opened another portal and appeared back onto the top hull of the warship. His boots gave a low click resonating through his body as they connected with the hull, the magic within him creating a low gravitational field that let him stand firmly again. With every move he already felt his still wet cloak was freezing solid where it faced nothing but the darkness of space.

The Kingmaker looked back to where every coordinate stored in his memories told him Earth was supposed to be. It’s absence caused a tight feeling in his core, but he ignored it. It had to be done – and now he had another task. Find the Warrior.

Maybe some of the ship had made some scans, readings, observations – anything he could use as a clue as to figure out where the Warrior had vanished to. He could be anywhere. That he couldn’t reach him was worrisome, but there were a plethora of factors that might cause this. At least short term – but it was already taking too long. By now, no matter how far away he was, whatever dimension or universe, they should have heard from him. Which told him that wherever the Warrior was now, he couldn’t establish a connection to Mezchinhar.

And that meant that the Warrior was in danger.

*

“It’s going to be okay,” the Wizard repeated almost to himself, his voice a mere whisper – but at least the Stargazer had calmed down. Not much, but enough for now. “I can fix this…” The Hermit could be rebuilt, the Warrior too if he had too, if he would die. But he saw the nervous twitching in the Stargazer’s hands, the tension in his clenched jaw before he spoke.

“Fix it? There were billions of people on that planet. They are dead. You can’t fix that!” Just like the Hermit, the Stargazer had spent too much time on that planet. And too much time in the Hermit’s memories too. It had become something familiar, something constant. He had spent over half his existence on that very planet. It had been his home.

And it was gone now. From one moment to the other, it was all gone. Taken by a force so massive, unpredictable and powerful it had simply erased it from the universe, leaving not even a single spec of dust to suspect it had ever been there in the first place. Only memories.

“I know,” the Wizard answered softly and very carefully. The Stargazer still spoke to him as if he was someone else. Of course the Wizard felt the regret too, but maybe not the grief as strongly as the Stargazer did. “But it had to be done. To save the rest of the universe.”

Instead of reassuring him, his words caused the Stargazer to tear away from him, anger in his eyes as he looked at him. “Don’t say that. Don’t justify it like that. It won’t make it okay.”

“I know,” he just repeated soberly. Briefly he glanced back, the pathfinder that had been supposed to get the Grandmaster to tell them of what was happening on earth had not yet returned. And the Wizard had a distinct feeling he knew very well why that was. He could imagine the turmoil his actions must have caused. Because there had been wizards on earth too.

And he had caused the death of their parts as well.

There would be consequences for that. But probably not for the billions of humans that had died with them. They didn’t matter.

“They do.” the Stargazer said quietly.

“I know.” The Wizard could only repeat once more, but his voice had become more quiet.

“Do you think he’s dead now?”

The Wizard glanced back at the Stargazer. He didn’t have to ask whom he was talking about, of course he knew. Sensed it in the grief he remembered. The grief he himself felt. He would not mourn the Hermit, nor the Warrior should he die now – because they would return to him eventually. They had to, to make him whole again.

“Maybe,” he answered quietly. But, if he hoped or feared it to be so, he could not tell. Because the possibility of Zenozarax’ death, if it had been actual death, caused painful grief in the Stargazer, bitter relife in the Kingmaker and in the middle there he was, the Wizard, unable to tell his feelings apart. Unwilling to take a side.

“All that death for a maybe.”

The Wizard had looked away but now the plain accusatory tone in the Stargazer’s voice made him look back. And for the first time he felt a sense of irritation directed at the Stargazer. Caused by his own guilt.

“This wasn’t about his death, it was about saving that galaxy!” – but even before he had said it, he saw that same irritation flare up in the Stargazer’s face.

“And you let him make that decision? Every thought he had, every concern he raised, all of you always dismissed for centuries and now he’s the one deciding the fate of billions like that? He was scared and desperate! He just wanted all of it to be over! And you too, all of you – and so you just accept it?” the Stargazer’s voice rose, a tremble of barely contained desperation in every word, clinging to the idea that there had to have been something else he could have done. And every word stung like a dagger in his heart, every word a desperate attempt to put as much distance between himself and what he had done. As if he wasn’t even part of it.

Don’t do this now. You’re dissociating. The Wizard felt a nervous self-conscious nagging in the back of his mind as he was becoming awkwardly aware how many wizards around them were watching him. Witnessing how broken he truly was – he would face the consequences of this later. As if they hadn’t mistrusted him already enough. I know it’s painful, and maybe you are right, but you know there was no time. You know that as much as I do. There was nothing we could have done.

Carefully he made a step forward but the Stargazer twitched back.

Yes he knew. But it wasn’t making it better.

He took a breath. There was whispering around them.

The Stargazer met his eyes.

Another breath.

And then suddenly,

without a warning,

the Warrior was back.

Like an avalanche the Warrior’s memories suddenly crashed into his mind, and for a moment there was nothing else. Years worth of memories suddenly drowning his every thought, memories of a dark world, of suffering, of death and destruction, pain, hopelessness and sacrifices. Memories of Obermoor and a makeshift army, of desperation and helplessness. Memories of a battle, of nuclear fire and burning villages.

The reunification shock made him stagger, his heart trying to be helpful in reacting appropriately with the artificial sense of stumbling unhealthily before he could prevent it from doing so.

He saw the Warrior again, and he wasn’t okay, he saw the ship he commanded barely saved from destruction and the intense stress he was in. Exhausted and worn out by the battle. And the crushing revelation that Zenozarax hadn’t been killed by the explosion, but now by the Prince of Treva and the Northman in a convoluted chain of events he couldn’t even fully understand this quickly.

And he saw what the Warrior had done, remembered what he was doing. What had to be done now at any cost to save the Prince.  

Stop telling yourself that, you keep doing that, but it’s not, it’s not alright just because it had to be done, stop it!

The Stargazer’s desperate thoughts were like a slap in the face and the Wizard dragged his focus back into the reality of Mezchinhar. His equal before him looked ashen, his hands shaking.

“You have to calm down,” the Wizard said, halfway raising his hand as non-threateningly as he could, maybe to even grab the Stargazer again. He saw the danger right in front of him, saw him breaking, and knew that he had to do something, anything now to stop it from happening again.

“Listen to me. I’m right here, it’s alright, just stay with me. Look at me.”

But the Stargazer didn’t even seem to hear him.

He remembered the Warrior’s orders to the crew, knew he was about to make a dimensional jump, which was insane given how exhausted the Warrior already was, but he couldn’t stop him from doing it now.

A world burned in his wake, but he wasn’t done yet.

We’re no better, you are not, look at what you’ve done!

“You have to stop–“

Shut up!

The Wizard froze as the Warriors thought shattered into his own mind like he had shouted, directed directly at the Stargazer. The irritation was clear and hostile. The Warrior had a purpose and goal and nothing would stop him from achieving it now. Not after all he had gone through to make it happen. He would take what he needed now, he wouldn’t let himself be stopped.

He met the Stargazer’s eyes. He looked numb, shattered, heart broken. He saw him swallow hard. His mind being torn apart by guilt. The Hermit had decided the fate of the people on earth, the Warrior that of the other earth, but these decisions were his too. It was his consciousness being weighed down by those decisions. His guilt.

The Wizard barely understood what was happening to him. Never before had the Stargazer disassociated this strongly, never before had they disagreed like this. This was wrong. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

“I’m sorry,” the Stargazer whispered, looking directly at him.

“Listen to me–” the Wizard tried again to reach him, but as he tried to take hold of him the Stargazer twitched back again, hitting his hand away, an almost fearful look on his face.

“I can’t – Not like this,” he said, a horrible numbness in his words. “I’m sorry.”

The Wizard saw the Stargazer’s eyes light up for just a moment.

“What are you doing?”

But it was the very moment he asked that question, when he had to ask that question, when another part of him fell silent in his mind. This time not by death, not by dimensional distortion – but choice.

It was a surreal moment as he looked at the Stargazer standing right in front of him, looking into his eyes, both of them part of the same, but suddenly blind for the other’s impressions. He was right there, if he would reach out he could touch him, but he never had felt this distant.

“Ravalor–” it was rare either of them referred to the other with their name, but right now he needed his confused equal to remember who he was, that what he was about to do would only bring him pain and suffering. “Stay here–”

But before he could have said anything more, the Stargazer had opened a whistling portal, for a moment stars gleamed before him, then the Stargazer vanished right before his eyes.

And for what felt like an eternity the Wizard just stood there, staring at the very point the Stargazer had vanished from.

His mind was in utter denial over what had just happened.

And yet the Stargazer was gone.

For a moment the memories of the Stargazer had been tearing into the Warrior’s consciousness, and he knew it would happen before it did, before the memories reached him. And suddenly the Stargazer was silent and all he could see were the last desperate moments of the Wizard trying to hold him back. But it was already too late because the memories only reached him after they had already happened.

He couldn’t allow him to leave, he needed to go, stop him, find him, bring him back, make him whole again.

But he had no time.

“Commander!”

Suddenly he felt a strong grip holding him, he had staggered in his stance without noticing, the world in front of his eyes was unfocused and too bright. Without having a chance to think twice about it he twitched away from the touch, hitting the hands away, almost stumbling again. He barely realised it had been NA10, his first officer, who now distantly asked if he was okay.

No he wasn’t. But he didn’t say that.

The Kingmaker was still where earth had been.

You’re exhausted, let me get Aeven for you–

The Kingmaker’s voice resonated in his memories but he just barely shook his head to himself.

No, you have to find the Stargazer, I can do this, bring him back, I need to finish this, I can’t–, I–.

The Warrior took a deep breath, he had no time for this.

“Hold this orbit!” He heard himself say sharply at which the concerned soldiers around him were snapped back into attention. “I’ll get Aeven. Notify medbay to be ready.“

His hands were shaking badly when he opened another portal, but he did not linger long enough for anyone to notice. Or so he hoped.

Only a second later he emerged on Earth. At least, the Earth of this distant universe. The hot sun mercilessly burned down on him. He blinked hard, his eyes adjusting unusually slowly to the bright sun after they had gotten used to the darkness of the cursed Earth he had just left. Here it was a beautiful day, the sky was blue and almost cloudless. A soft wind was rustling in the leaves. It was so peaceful it was almost grotesque.

His heart was pounding hard in his chest, his head was dizzy by exhaustion and the overwhelming terror of just having lost another part of him. And this time not to death. Not as easily fixable.

He felt his body move again almost without his own doing as he took the steps up the terrace.

Before him, basking in the sun he saw the young prince, who saw him in turn, and there was a surprised smile on Aeven’s face. Just for a moment. A moment where that genuine smile reminded him only of the death that awaited Aeven in that other reality.

There was no room for his personal feelings. A stoic calm enveloped his exhausted mind, it was comforting as it was familiar. He had a job to do. And no matter what was happening to him right now, he would see it through. It was the least he could do. He had come too far to fail.

He’d leave here with Aeven – one way or another.

The Stargazer had known that.

And what would need to be done after that, too.

“Ravalor!”

The Wizard flinched as he heard his name spoken and was startled as he was faced with three warriors in uniform looking at him as if they were about to just shoot him. Only now he noticed the pulsing light of the security alert undoubtedly triggered by the Stargazer’s unauthorised portal outside the portpoints.

“You need to come with us.”

All around them wizards had gathered, pretending to not watch with barely hidden curiosity. There were so many now that they struggled to keep the proper distance to each other, yet they stayed. Just to gawk.

How very human of them.

There was a bitter but familiar frustration in the Kingmaker’s thought he didn’t like.

The warriors gave him a sign to move and follow them.

The Wizard swallowed hard. Of course. Yes. He had expected as much. But he couldn’t think straight anymore, found no better answer than to simply nod and do as he was told now.

He kept his head held high as he was led through the main node. And dozens upon dozens of eyes and low mumbling followed him.

The Kingmaker felt a restless twitch in his fingers. His magic still anchored him firmly on top of the starship, but that was the extent to which he felt grounded now. Everything else felt like a daze.

Should I come? he asked the Wizard who was being escorted down a corridor.

No, help him as long as you can. 

He frowned, jaws clenched tight. The Wizard wanted him to help the Warrior. The Warrior wanted him to find the Stargazer. But how was he supposed to do that now? Even with the small glimpse of space the Kingmaker remembered seeing in the Stargazer’s portal, by now he could be anywhere. He would have made at least one other jump, because that’s what Ravalor would have done.

And for the first time in the Kingmaker’s existence, he didn’t know what to do as all that was left of him now couldn’t even agree on what that would be.

The Kingmaker remembered the Warrior who was standing in front of Aeven, offering him his hand.

Assured by lies and friendly pretences, the prince agreed to help by his own choice. Unaware it would be his last.

He gritted his teeth as he tried to take his mind away from that. It was too late now. It needed to be done. There was no other way.

The Warrior staggered through the portal, the unconscious body of Aeven in his arms and Teseni was right there to catch both of them.

“Commander? Is the prince alright?” A pause. “Are you?”

The Warrior didn’t even hear the Doctor as he rushed forward, laying Aeven down onto one of the beds.

“Teseni!”

“Yes, yes! I got it. Here!” The doctor handed him a fine syringe ending in a long needle – its content was glowing with the colour of magic. The Warrior took Aeven’ head, turning it ever so gently, placing the needle near his eye.

His hand was shaking.

He clenched his jaw like that would help to calm his hand, but the exhaustion was tearing at every atom of his being. If anything the shaking got worse and like this the chance to either take Aeven eye or even worse lobotomize him outright was greater than achieving anything good.

“Curse it.” He pulled back his hand and offered the syringe back to Teseni. “You have to do it. Quickly now!”

With a firm nod, not wasting time with questions, Teseni took the syringe back, placing it back near Aeven’ eye and with calm and steady hands pushed the needle into the soft tissue in the corner of his eye. The entire content of the syringe pushed now directly into Aeven’ brain where the magic immediately would spread out and form the supportive tissue and artificial receptors needed for what came next.

His hands were still shaking badly when he grabbed the almost gun shaped device that he had earlier used to plant the soulcrystal within Aeven body. It had been nonfunctional during the time the disruption field had been still working, but the moment it had gone down, Aeven’ consciousness had synchronised with the crystal’s counterpart, and now, temporarily, held onto all that was left of the Prince of Treva. Aeven had just died, and yet he was already taking too long. A human consciousness wasn’t meant to be stored in any inanimate object, every second wasted carrying the danger of deteriorating who Aeven’ was at its core.

He took the counterpart crystal from the device and his hand lit up while he placed his fingers over Aeven’ forehead. He had no time left to engage the facilities. Bracing his mind for the transfer he took a deep breath – then in one hard rush he let everything stored in the stone flow into this Aeven’ brain. It set his own mind aflame with a life worth of information incompatible with his own neural network and his vision flickered. Information rewriting neural pathways, forming new connections, adjusting, changing. A delicate second layer of information, a whole consciousness laying over an existing one and he felt his head spin by fear that his own exhausted state may lead to more harm than good in the end.

Then the magic died down and he gasped. The now empty stone fell to the ground as he staggered back, hitting the bed behind him with his legs for a moment he just dropped down. Just sitting for a few seconds. The world flickered before his eyes.

“Commander!”

“He’s going to be fine,” the Warrior whispered, almost in disbelief, staring at the still unconscious young man. His hands brushed the loose strands of hair out of his face, the beret fell onto the bed but he didn’t even notice. “He’s okay.” A cathartic numbness swallowed his mind as he stood up again and his knees almost gave in.

“I...need to—”

“Commander, you really don’t look alright. Maybe you should lay down too—”

“No... no if the Hammer is still— The Northman—” He took a deep breath, trying to clear his delirious mind. “Stay here. Tell CC to hold orbit.”

Teseni looked at him, clearly struggling to just order him to rest, but he didn’t. Maybe knowing that it was pointless.

Then the Warrior opened another portal.

And he returned to the shadowy echo of earth for the last time.

The Kingmaker had tensely followed the Warrior’s actions, watched him in worry as he sensed how distant the Warrior’s mind grew with every further strain of exhaustion. He realised that the Warrior wasn’t even acknowledging the fact anymore that the Stargazer was gone. That the Hermit was dead. That Zenozarax might be too.

The despicable feeling of being helpless had not gone yet. He wanted to take a deep breath but was momentarily reminded that he was still in the cold vacuum of space. As if the realisation of the discomfort of breathing in nothing was just the reminder he had needed he felt the freezing cold on his back where he didn’t face the sun, all the while he would surely have developed a sunburn by now if only he could.

Suddenly a bright light appeared.

No, not one, but a dozent, like stars appearing right before him, glowing in all colours of the rainbow as ship after ship jumped from one universe into another.

And his eyes grew wide.

Spearheading the arriving fleet was the Leviathan.

He had never seen the infamous flagship of their navy in person, and now the gigantic ship was just flying right before him, dwarfing even Earth’s own royal flagship. He sensed the broad channel communication wave pass him, ordering every ship in the vicinity coldly to stand down and remain calm, like an all powerful police force having just arrived to end a minor riot.

And seeing that massive show of force suddenly before him sent a nauseating sense of realisation through his mind.

They had been ready. They had waited, idly standing by while a war was fought, just waiting...

Like torpedoes over a dozent MTCSs ejected from the Leviathan, all shining new and more polished than the TSS Northforce had ever been, and while most of the fleet shot off to probably end the battle at Mars decisively, the Leviathan stayed right there before him.

Deep below the confusion, the pain and grief, he still felt a very small part of himself being in awe. The Leviathan was a ship every wizard only fleetingly interested in their ships and navy knew, and adored. A mighty vessel of war and order. A living relic from the time the Lords had been still watching over them.

But that awe was swallowed by the terrible premonition that Leviathan’s Wrath was now pointed directly at him.

And as he felt a laser lock onto him, pinging him, he knew he was dead right about it. He accepted the transmission.

“Ravalor.” The Kingmaker froze as the merciless cold voice spoke directly to him, and he knew from the transmission info that it was Fleetmaster Nemoneleus himself. “Report to the Leviathan immediately. Should you fail to comply with this order you will be apprehended by force if necessary.”

For a moment he felt his knees get weak, only being saved by the fact that he was still in zero gravity. He received the port beacon information of the Leviathan’s portpoint where he would undoubtedly be taken straight into custody.

That he hadn’t been yet arrested by force as threatened he chose to see as a good sign but he knew that everything but to comply now wouldn’t end well for him. He was about to open the portal – but then halted.

He remembered the Warrior speaking with the Northman. He was so distant now, the Kingmaker doubted the Warrior was even realising anymore what was happening to the rest of him. Saw him opening the portal back to the ship. The memories were weak, strained by exhaustion.

The Northman gave the Warrior that lords forsaken knife. Then they returned to the TSS Northforce.

There were some words of the Northman – but they were so distorted they were unrecognisable – the Warrior hadn’t even heard the words properly.

And then the Warrior’s memories turned black.

The Kingmaker felt his heartbeat pick up in strangling worry. He looked back at the Leviathan. With strained patients waiting for his arrival.

Then he opened a portal.

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