Ashlyn Chronicles 2: 2288 A.D.: A Time Travel Sci-Fi Fantasy (22 page)

Once again Ashlyn found herself in the void. This time, however, only seconds passed before the image of Steven appeared. The look on his face was one of surprise. He was happy, too much so.

“Ash—you did it. I wasn’t expecting—the worlds that were watching are in awe of what you did. And I-…” Steven was truly at a loss for words.

Ashlyn was tired and too weary to beat around the bush. “I’ve been in the arena before haven’t I? That’s why you’re so surprised to see that I survived.”

Tears came to Steven’s eyes. He nodded, unable to find his voice.

“How many times? How many times have I died?” said Ashlyn, her own voice cracking as emotions tied to the implication overwhelmed her. “I’ve known since the moment that you said you missed me.”

“Many,” Steven answered. “I stopped counting a long time ago. And yes, I’ve missed you terribly.”

“How long has it been since you last saw me in person?” When his face twisted, Ashlyn’s chest tightened.

Steven was slow to answer, her question reminding him of his loneliness during their time apart. “It’s been more than forty-thousand years.”

Ashlyn’s legs went weak, her hands trembling—her chest heavy. “How? What happened?”

“I’ve been resetting the timeline over and over, planting seeds of knowledge, guiding the people that would someday have an influence on your life—all so that they could someday help you find your way back to me.” Steven’s voice withered. “It’s been so long since—”

“Seeds, like the story Gorok told? You were guiding me to Olympus?”

“Yes, I made sure the story got passed down from generation to generation, until it finally reached your ears. I’ve been guiding things in the hope that you could reset the timeline, eventually avoiding the disaster that separated us.”

“Who built the nexus? Where did it come from?”

“You and I built it, Ash—with the Keeper’s help. He gave us access to amazing technologies. It was supposed to be a place where a man, if granted permission by the Council could face his enemies.” Steven’s eyes softened. “What we didn’t know was that in creating the nexus, we also created the darkness. With each accused victim’s death, the darkness grew stronger, more powerful, more evil.

“Only after you entered the nexus did we become aware of it. I’ve been searching for a way to get you out ever since.”

“So I’ve been reliving these same few days—all this time?” Ash could hardly breathe.

“Yes.” Steven shrugged his shoulders. “The overall time jumps are exactly the same every time. Some battles you live longer, some shorter. Within each of the jumps, you still have individual choice and free will, so there are nuanced differences.

“That’s why you saw my hesitation for you to enter the nexus. I feared that you would fail again. It is what I have come to expect. It’s hard to see you die so many times.”

Steven’s words made Ashlyn’s heart ache for him. His endurance of such heartbreak across such a vast expanse of time was a testament to his love for her. “My gallant knight, you never gave up,” said Ashlyn. “The torment you went through is unfathomable.”

“Giving up was never an option, Ash. You would have done the same for me, I know it.”

Ash nodded. “Steven, why did I go into the nexus the first time? There had to be a reason?”

“You didn’t go into it willingly. Enlil sent you there. You went to Tiamat to talk to him. You thought you could make him understand. Neither of us had ever thought he would...” Steven couldn’t say the words aloud.

Ash swallowed. “How did you get the Council to approve all the time resets?”

Her question took him away from the sorrow he was feeling. It was now Steven’s turn to have a reason to smile. “They can’t exactly refuse. Do you remember our conversation aboard Destiny 1 with Ninmah, when you told me that we were never going to see Heaven—and never going to see our friends again?”

Ash nodded. “I remember.”

“Well, when we said our goodbyes and I supposedly launched to go after Enlil—I didn’t. I ordered the Keeper to reset the gate and take us back to Hadaesia. I wasn’t sure that I’d be successful, but I knew that I had to try. I saved them Ash. I saved all of our friends. In fact, we saved everyone on Hadaesia. The Arkane took most of them, the rest came aboard Destiny and Defender. Drumroll please,” said Steven playfully.

“The Council is made up of all our friends, Ash. Novacek, Brooks, Stratton, Tomlinson—all of them are here.” Steven laughed. “Even Moore is on the Council. He’s matured a bit since his cocky youthful days when he drove me crazy. And I should tell you, our children, Phillip, Sandee and Christie are on the Council too. And our son Enki.”

Tears came to Ashlyn’s eyes. She’d never suspected such a thing to be possible.

“They’re good kids, Ash. You’d be proud of the adults they’ve become.” Steven shrugged his shoulders, “Now you know why the Council never said no. We couldn’t leave you trapped in there, knowing the darkness would claim you. We love you, Ash. We need you. I need you.

“We’ve done all this—I’ve done all this, to get you back to me. When you do return, the thousands of years of waiting for you will be erased from my memory. The endless nexus resets will never have happened. We’ll get to experience all the wonders together from the very beginning. Now you can understand my excitement. We’ve never been this close before and if you can succeed—the nexus will release you. You’ll finally be free.”

Ash had to ask the next logical question. “I don’t mean to spoil anything, but once I’m free, how do we know I won’t make the same mistake again, restarting all this mess?”

“Because we have the Keeper!” said Steven. “Like you’d told me once, he’s been here through all of it. He has a singular perspective that none of us have. He’s been inputting all the information of your failures and successes into the database aboard the gate that brought us back in time. Much like the nexus, the gate generates a field that isn’t affected by the timeline resets. No matter how many resets there are, the gate maintains an accurate record of all the events. By accessing that database, the Keeper can help us avoid repeating the same mistakes. He’s our personal guardian angel.”

“Steven—in all those nexus resets, I’ve not once beaten Enlil?”

“From your current perspective, no—but the truth is that you did defeat him once. The first time. With his death, you were released. We fulfilled our legendary futures. We founded the Anunnaki empire and had more children. We were happy.”

“So, this all got retriggered when Enlil sent me back into the nexus.”

“Yes, when Enlil sent you into the nexus, he did so without preparing it for you. Since a new imprint of you was never made, the nexus put you into the loop of your prior journey. You are stuck repeating all that you have faced, until you can defeat him again. Nothing I do here on the outside has the power to change that.

“It must come from you, but I must warn you that facing our son in battle will be the hardest thing you have ever done. He is the most powerful warrior the Anunnaki have ever known. His experience with the gifts makes him a deadly adversary, and his skill with the sword is unequalled. He is a brilliant strategist. To defeat him, you must be creative—unconventional.”

“So, what’s different this time? Why do you think I can do it now?” Before Steven could answer, Ashlyn discerned the answer. “It’s because the darkness isn’t in me. It’s because it went into—”

The light in Steven’s eyes darkened. “Yes. I believe you have a chance this time because the darkness is in our unborn son. This is the first time such a thing has happened. I believe it too has grown weary of the resets. It wants out. The netherworld is as close to a literal Hell as can exist for the souls trapped within it.”

Ashlyn swallowed, fear rising. “If I win Steven, the darkness will escape. We will need to return someday, so that our son can purge the darkness. We can’t let it loose upon the world.”

“I know, but at least we will face that time, together.” Steven’s image began to dissipate.

“Steven, will he recognize me?”

“No, he was little the last time he saw you in this form. The Anunnaki are easily bored, and changing forms regularly has become a custom. As for the final arena, you will have your natural Anunnaki abilities, and nothing more. I don’t need to tell you to be careful, but—be careful.”

Ashlyn gave a solemn nod. “I know what needs to be done. I’ll not fail you.”

The void began to brighten.

Ash found herself standing atop a rocky plateau looking down upon a vast plain. Scattered homes and farms lined the interconnected roadways between fields of crops and fenced sheep. To the west, billowing clouds of heavy smoke were rising, blacking out the setting sun and making it seem later in the day than it really was. The fire in the wheat field was moving fast, pushed to the southwest by a light breeze.

To the east, a small group of terrified men stood shoulder-to-shoulder in defense of a primitive, mud and stone city behind them. Instead of defending the city from the fire, the men were armed with clubs and wooden herding staffs, prepared to fight against an impossible enemy.

From somewhere beyond the wall of smoke, Ashlyn heard the bellowing roar of a large creature. A faint, human scream suddenly stilled. Though visibly scared, the men were prepared to die in defense of their families. A scroungy, brown dog stood at his master’s side, his tail between his legs—cowering.

As Ash stared into the smoke, she could make out remnants of destroyed homes, their walls collapsed. She saw a woman, her legs pinned, fighting to escape.

Ash gasped as she saw Enlil in the form of a Hydra walking toward the woman. Without hesitation, Enlil tore her apart, the many heads of the Hydra each wanting a piece.

She now knew why the men were so fearful.

Enlil turned, and started walking toward the city, toward the men.

Ash transformed into the dragon, and let out a loud shrieking roar. As she’d hoped, it drew Enlil’s attention. He came to a stop, his seven heads staring up at her.

Spreading her wings wide, Ash took to the sky and glided down to stand before the humans. Cowering and stepping back from her, the humans held their makeshift weapons high. Ash changed back into her natural form. “Don’t be afraid. I’ve come to fight for you.” One of the men spoke back to her in a language she had never heard. Ash gave him a warm smile, hoping it would alleviate his fears.

Turning, Ash walked out onto the plains toward Enlil. Intrigued by the sight of an Anunnaki woman, Enlil too changed into his natural form and walked toward her.

The two of them came to a stop five paces apart in the middle of a wheat field, caution dictating they keep their distance. Ashlyn casually took her hand and brushed the top of the wheat stalks around her.

Enlil saw the hilt from the Sword of Truth rising from behind her shoulder, “You are not Ninmah, and yet you bear her sword. How did you come to possess it?”

“Ninmah gave it to me, when she commissioned me to enforce the will of the Council.”

“Why would Ninmah commission you with such a task? They are either cowards or dead. Which is it?” Enlil suddenly got a knowing look on his face. “The other ship that arrived- …- you came from that ship?” Enlil’s gaze locked onto Ashlyn, his thoughts seeing past her. “I should have known that bastard father of mine would do something like this.” He turned his gaze skyward. “It’s not going to work Anu, you hear me. It’s not going to work. After I kill your assassin, I’m coming for you.”

“Enlil, you and I both know what must happen here, but before we do battle—I have a question for you.”

Enlil’s eyes tightened in anticipation.

“I don’t understand why you have such hatred for your father. Why did you turn against him?”

The question was not one he’d expected. “Why would you care? An assassin should not be concerned with such things.”

“Let’s just say that I like to understand the man I am going to kill,” said Ashlyn.

Enlil laughed aloud. “You cannot defeat me, but I admire the arrogance of your false confidence. I am curious though—are you asking so that you can ease your conscience for summoning me here? If so, you will be disappointed, for it was me that was wronged. It was my family who first turned against me.”

“Why? What happened?” said Ashlyn.

“What happened, was that I killed my mother.”

Hearing him speak the words so coldly—Ashlyn’s mouth went dry, her stomach twisting. There was no sign of love or remorse—only hatred.

“Few people know the truth of how my family betrayed me,” said Enlil. “And why I did, what I did.”

“I’d like to hear what happened,” responded Ashlyn, encouraging him to continue.

“There is little point,” said Enlil. “Only one of us can leave here. If I kill you, then my time spent in telling you was wasted. If you kill me, then who cares what truth was told? It will die with me.”

“You’re wrong, Enlil. All the Anunnaki worlds are watching our battle today, perhaps they should hear your truth.”

Enlil took a few contemplative steps. Somewhere deep inside, he felt that his story might win him favor with the people. Perhaps they would be more inclined to follow him when he claimed the throne. “Very well, let the worlds hear the family secrets of the great Anu and his treasured family.” The anger and contempt in his voice was deep. “Let them learn that it was Enki, my younger brother who first turned against me, stealing my birthright.”

Enlil’s gaze fell upon the cowering humans behind Ashlyn, his despise for them evident. “Since before I was born, a pact was made that I was to be joined with Ninmah, daughter of Lu’tok—but just days before the ceremony was to take place, I returned to Heaven and caught Enki and Ninmah together.

“To make it worse, I learned that my mother had bribed House Lu’tok into breaking the pact, allowing a new one to be made. The payment was one of immense value, enriching the wealth, power and prominence of House Lu’tok. She bought their alliance.”

“The Star of Elements,” said Ashlyn.

“Yes,” said Enlil, surprised that she knew of it. “The Star was our family’s most treasured symbol. She gave it to Ninmah as compensation for her family’s cooperation.”

“That next week, Enki and Ninmah were joined at the very same ceremony that had been scheduled for me. It was but one more dishonor to me.

“So, I left Heaven before the ceremony and returned here to the worlds I had conquered and controlled. I renounced my place on the Council, wanting no part of them anymore. I vowed to never again step foot on the home world. I wanted to be left alone.

“And then mother dared come here, with Enki in command of the Imperial Fleet. She entered my home with Ninmah and Enki at her side, asking me to listen, begging me to let them explain what had happened. The request was disgraceful.

“Their very presence defiled my home. They expected me to understand, to forgive. It was impossible. I hated all of them.

“When I told them to leave, they assumed command of my fleet, claiming Anunnaki jurisdiction over this quadrant of space. They ordered me to comply, to allow Ninmah to uplift the indigenous people of this planet. Piece by piece, they took everything from me, and now they wanted to change the world I had built, making the people here part of our own royal bloodline, using my own family’s genetics.

“If mother thought I hated her for what she’d done back on Heaven, I hated her a thousand times more for what she’d done here. She left me with nothing. She’d given Enki the woman I loved and had been promised—even giving him command of my own fleet. Do you see now why I believe I was betrayed at every turn?

“Sending my mother into the nexus was more than she deserved. I wish I’d slain her with my own hands, and spit into her face as I did so.”

Ashlyn felt weak. His pain cut her heart.

“And father was no better. He allowed it all to happen. Not once did he object. Does that satisfy your curiosity, assassin?”

“It does.” Ashlyn pursed her lips in thought. “Perhaps mistakes were made and they did hurt you, but I know that your family would never have done so intentionally. Sometimes, regardless of ones best intentions, things don’t turn out as we’d hoped. I also know that they never stopped loving you.”

“Betrayal is not a mistake. Neither was their taking what belongs to me unintentional. All of it was calculated. They do not deserve forgiveness, but I find your words very strange for an assassin. Your pretense of concern is—unusual.”

“Enlil, I am not an assassin. I have come by my own volition with the blessing of the Council to enforce the decree. Had you obeyed, we would not be here now. It was their hope that you would comply and that an avenue of reconciliation could be found. I feel for your plight, and I’m sorry that it has come to this.”

“Save your apologies for someone who cares. Perhaps Anu will care when I throw your head at his feet.” Enlil transformed into the Hydra. The creature towered over her, and was much larger than it had appeared from atop the plateau. Its body was dark red, its spiked tail thrashing wildly behind it. It’s seven heads were a flurry of snapping jaws and clacking fangs.

Ashlyn backed up, slashing at the Hydra’s heads as they came at her. Enlil’s advance was relentless, forcing her to retreat with each strike. He was toying with her, like a cat with a mouse.

Seeing him now, it was easy to forget that it was her son. Ash was patient, watching for an opportunity to counterattack. When the moment came and one of the heads came toward her unsupported by the others, Ashlyn dodged the snapping jaw and stepped to the side, swinging the sword. The head fell to the ground.

The Hydra reeled back in agony, giving an ear-piercing screech. A greenish-white viscous fluid spurted from the severed neck, spraying the air. Ash took advantage of Enlil’s distraction and backed up a few paces to transform. Shifting into the dragon, Ash let go a long stream of flame, engulfing Enlil, scorching his leathery skin.

The wheat around them burst into flames. In pain, but not seriously hurt by the flame, he roared defiantly. The head on the ground melted, dissolving into a metallic liquid that slithered across the ground to rejoin with Enlil. Ash watched him healing, the head reforming, the scorched areas repairing themselves. Ash pressed the small advantage, sending another stream of fire at him.

Lost within the flames, Enlil transformed into his natural form and came running out of the flames toward her, a sword in his hand. In his natural, molecularly denser state, the flames had no effect on him. With a scream, he loosed a heavy blow trying to overpower her.

Ash spun. As his blow cut into her left wing, her tail came around and lashed him, sending him flying through the air. Enlil landed on his back twenty yards away.

Rising, albeit slowly, Enlil came to his feet. He saw that her wing was nearly healed. “Anunnaki abilities do not make this an easy battle.”

“Killing should never come easy,” said Ash.

“It should when we both want this to be over and get out of here. I make you the same proposal you made to Ra. Let us fight with swords, no tricks, no shifting form. What do you say, assassin?”

“I accept,” said Ash as she transformed into herself.

The two of them circled, swords raised, moving through the flames of burning wheat. Grey ash, mixed with orange embers swirled in the air around them, the smoke darkening the sky above.

Enlil made the first move, taking several successive swings—each of which Ashlyn parried. The battle waged, each exchanging turns forcing the other back. It was Ash that landed the first blow, chopping off three fingers on Enlil’s left hand. Enlil took a step back, almost stumbling—surprised by her having landed a blow. Enlil glanced down at his fingers lying on the ground, watching them liquefy and slide across the ground to rejoin with him. “Only a thrust through the heart will kill us.”

“Or the head,” said Ashlyn.

“Or the head,” agreed Enlil with a grin. “It’s time to end this charade.” Raising his sword, he gave a bow and then came at her.

Ash backed away, deflecting blow after blow. His sword was twirling and spiraling at a frenetic pace, his skill unsurpassed. The power behind each blow pressed her back, forcing her to retreat. She’d no sooner finish fending off one blow before the next came. Not once did he leave her an opening to counterattack. Each backward step was precarious, each threatening to topple her to the ground. Enlil’s swings grew quicker as he sensed her pending collapse.

Loosing a scream, Enlil lunged. His thrust sank deep into Ashlyn’s chest, piercing her left lung. Ash collapsed, her sword falling to the ground beside her. Ash gasped for air, blood bubbling out of her chest as her Anunnaki DNA fought to repair her injuries.

Enlil’s eyes narrowed. He moved closer and placed the tip of his sword in the hollow of her neck. Ash could see his mind hardening as his years of seething anger rose to the surface. “My truth is truth. The nexus has decided.” The tendons of his hand tightened around the hilt as he prepared to push the blade into her.

“Stop!” The booming voice of Anu resonated through the air. His large image appeared, hovering in the sky above them.

“This is not your concern, Anu. I have won,” said Enlil looking up at him.

“You cannot kill her, my son. She is your mother, and even now, she carries you in her belly. If you kill her, the child will never be born. All will be changed.”

Enlil looked down at Ashlyn, anger and disbelief on his face. “Is this true?”

“Yes,” said Ashlyn. “You are my son. The nexus brought me here from a time period a few months before you were born.”

“That’s why you asked the questions. You didn’t know what you had done to me.” He looked up at Anu. “You knew this, and yet you summoned me here to a battle that—”