<div>


    <div>


    <div>


    TWENTY-EIGHT


    <h2 style="text-transform: uppercase">SARIEN</h2>


    <div>


    He stood in a world that wasn’t. Instinct told him that this was not a place, not in the sense he was used to.


    White. White surrounded him. The sense of distance warped around itself when he tried to look in either direction, like he was looking into infinity, only his mind couldn’t comprehend it.


    “What is this place?” he asked, finding that he could move his body freely.


    Alenna stepped up beside him, both of them standing on firm, white ground while also hovering over the infinite. “It takes a few moments for your mind to piece together the truths about this place and truly see it for what it is. Breathe in deep, for the one you seek to destroy is soon to appear.”


    Sarien dug deep inside himself, trying, and failing, to gather his power. The gray flame was gone. “Am I really here? Wherever here is? Where are the others?”


    “Pertinent questions, but it is time for you to hold your tongue and gaze into Chaos.”


    The space before them twisted upon itself, swirling and cracking while remaining the same. It changed and didn’t. In the time his vision darkened from a single blink, the empty space took shape.


    First, a gateway. Far up in the air, a gateway opened. No, it had always been there, open. Sarien’s head throbbed, but he didn’t dare look away. He knew where that gateway led, knew it in his gut. Maydian. Eldsprak. Fyrie.


    Buried up to his shoulder, the Prime of Chaos reached through it. Wyndemir stood before Sarien, impossibly massive. His free hand held the outer rim of the gateway and Sarien saw the strain he put on it, trying to force his way into Maydian.


    “It isn’t a man,” Sarien breathed. Wyndemir assumed the rough shape of an Eldian of massive proportions, but with clear differences. His skin was inhumanly pale even against the white infinity. His skin stretched tight over emaciated muscles and his head resembled a skull with too many teeth, all of them sharp like a predator’s.


    The Prime’s eyes flickered between eyes like an Eldian’s before widening large like a rhinn’s. No matter their size, they were chasms of darkness, pulling in the light from around them. The faintest tint of purple shimmered in the dark pits.


    This was his physical shape, but Sarien saw beyond. Possibilities swirled in its skin, change in the way it moved. How he knew this, he did not know.


    “It’s like you said.” He turned to Alenna. “Wyndemir barely has a will.”


    “That’s right.”


    “So why does he want to return to Maydian? Why does he want anything at all?”


    Even at a distance, an incredible pressure emanated from Wyndemir. A force powerful enough to crush men, strong enough to warp the reality of those who stepped too near. By his tremendous presence alone, the Prime of Chaos could annihilate all those that appeared in this realm. He did so even without consciousness.


    The god’s influence did not affect Sarien, though he did not know why. Perhaps, he kept at a safe enough distance, or that Wyndemir’s attention was drawn toward Maydian.


    “Your malady, the deformities.”


    “Yes?”


    “I don’t believe they originate from the Prime.”


    Alenna snorted again and spat yellow and red phlegm into the white nothingness. It vanished. “You’ve barely left your home world and you think to lecture me on Primes? Now shut up and sense what true power means.”


    The gray flame returned to Sarien, and he immediately lashed out at Alenna, the gray flame consuming her. Except it didn’t.


    Even with power coursing through him, Sarien felt no connection to the old woman. His flames fell away from her and when she pointed to Wyndemir, they flew toward the Prime.


    Sarien’s power reached out and touched Wyndemir. He fell onto his knees. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think.


    Everything was chaos. Chaos was everything.


    He seized. His body curled tight as his muscles spasmed relentlessly. Sarien wanted desperately to scream, but could not. He didn’t know how.


    Suddenly, he was back in Alenna’s house.


    “Do you understand now?” she asked, standing where she’d been before transporting them to Wyndemir.


    Tears streaked down his cheeks as he gasped for air, his chest burning from lack of air. When he finally caught his breath, Sarien began to scream.


    “What did you do to my boy?” Ein said, his voice raised with alarm.


    Kax violently threw his head back and forth. “I’ll kill you, bastard!”


    Sarien forced himself to calm. “Was that really him?” he choked out.


    “It,” Alenna corrected.


    “What happened?” Sarien’s father asked.


    “She brought me to Wyndemir.”


    “Your son got a taste of the Prime’s power. Now tell me, Sarien, can you measure up to that? Can you provide the Council with anything remotely like it?”


    His head fell. “No.”


    “Enough of this,” Kax said, straining with all his might. Miraculously, he managed to move his arm a few inches.


    Alenna raised a hand to Kax while still keeping her gaze at Sarien. “Say goodbye to your friend, Sarien.”


    “What? No!”


    The old woman turned away, her disfigured face contorting with concentration. She began to tremble. When nothing happened, she said to Kax, “What are you?”


    “I AM THE VOID!” Kax screamed, thrashing both arms violently. Darkness swirled and one of his swords began to take shape. Typically, it manifested in an instant, but Kax strained to call it forth.


    If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    “Interesting,” Alenna said. “But I have too much to study as is.”


    She closed her hand into a fist, and Kax’s face bulged outward. The restricting, but invisible, tendrils tightened, applying incredible pressure on Kax’s body.


    Sarien watched as Kax erupted, flesh flinging across the room. There was no blood. Sarien didn’t know if that was better or worse. He expected to see a human-shaped void in Kax’s place, but there was nothing. Kax was gone.


    “What did you do?” Sarien asked.


    “I think it’s obvious,” Alenna said, brushing away part of Kax’s arm from her white robe. It left an oily stain.


    Having seen his friend blown apart, dismembered, and destroyed before, Sarien remained calm. The likelihood that Kax was dead was miniscule.


    Alenna raised an eyebrow, or the part of her face where eyebrows used to sit. “Not so close friends, were you?”


    Sarien ignored her question. He needed to stall. Give Kax time to return. “You know more than anyone about the Prime of Chaos.”


    “I suppose.”


    “I don’t understand. Isn’t it strange that a Prime could be captured?”


    She chuckled. “Despite what I just showed you and the impossible predicament you find yourself in, you’re still searching for a solution aren’t you? A way to defeat a Prime? It’s unnatural to cage a Prime of the universe.”


    “Unnatural?” Ein asked.


    “What kind of fools would incarcerate a force of the universe?”


    “They must have had a good reason why,” Sarien said.


    “A Prime stepping in from beyond the veil is not unheard of, but they keep their distance. The Prime of Chaos grew interested in this realm.”


    “Why?”


    “Unfortunately, the answer to that is lost to time. Most of the knowledge we do possess is a patchwork of fact, fancy, and an endless search for morsels of the truth.”


    “But you do know how the Prime was captured?” Sarien asked.


    Alenna eyed Sarien. “You know what? I think I’ll tell you.”


    “You will?” Ein asked, surprised.


    Alenna picked up one of the books from the table behind her and opened it to a marked page. “It will do you no good, so why not? The other council members are too thickheaded to care much about history. I will indulge you.”


    “Please,” Sarien said.


    “The artifact used to house the Prime’s cell in the void was built with three key ingredients, the true identity of which is lost to time. Even with his prison perfected, the Prime still escaped.”


    “But you released him. Wyndemir didn’t escape,” Sarien protested.


    She nodded, hefting the book. “Sure, but all we did was speed up its inevitable release. A crack was already forming. There is no caging chaos, not forever. Time is very different to beings such as the Primes. A thousand years to us is nothing to them, so if the prison couldn’t hold its inhabitant forever, then what was the point?”


    “To buy time?”


    “Perhaps, but nothing happened. If imprisoning the Prime of Chaos was a mere stopgap for a permanent solution to be found, the time was squandered.


    “Well, how did they imprison the Prime?”


    “They built the artifact and infused it with three cornerstones to amplify its strength. These cornerstones are named in the texts, but there is no information on what they actually were or how they were acquired.”


    She peered into the book and read. “And the three came together to make one. Living Darkness to host, Order Beyond Doubt to transfer, and The Unyielding Resistance of Man to endure.”


    “Living darkness is the Slayers, obviously, and Wayfarers are order,” Ein said, sounding confident.


    “We did not exist back then,” Alenna said, rolling her eyes.


    “What do you mean?”


    “The Prime flow of order tore itself apart as those who came before us imprisoned the Prime of Chaos, resulting in the branching paths we have today. The two shall never again become one.”


    “Wayfarers and Slayers,” Sarien said.


    Alenna put the book down. “That is correct, as far as I know.”


    “Except now the two have become one,” Ein said, indicating to Sarien.


    The old woman rubbed her hands together, the flesh on them looking near to falling off the bone. “Right again.”


    “Can you tell us anything else?” Sarien asked.


    “I think that’s enough. It’s high time you and I get to work, Sarien. No need for caution now.”


    “What do you mean?”


    A terrible grin spread across her face. “The Council will have resumed opening Prime’s portal into Maydian by now. How long do you think your little rhinn pets can withstand the might of real Wayfarers?”


    “No!” Sarien shouted.


    “No need to worry yourself with such matters, not anymore. I’ll make you mine and then see what makes you tick. Your gray flame will make a fine subject for research.”


    Memories of Madge flashed through his mind, of her staring greedily at him in the dark cells beneath the tower, then standing above him with her terrible little knife as he lay strapped to a table, bleeding.


    He desperately clawed at his inner self, doing everything to summon a scrap of gray flame. Anything to get away. None would come.


    “Son, it’s an illusion holding us! None of this is real! You have to reject it!”


    “How?”


    “Assert your will. Know that our bonds are only in our minds!”


    The room rippled, then reasserted itself.


    “Always been a clever one, haven’t you, Ein?”


    Sarien focused. There was no one standing before him. Nothing held him. The smell of fresh bread wavered for a brief moment. He focused harder. The gray flame was his. No one could take it from him.


    Alenna blurred but returned to herself, chuckling. “Like father like son.”


    “Again, Sarien!”


    Together, they forced the illusion back, pushing against Alenna’s magic with their combined will. A rip appeared between the two of them and their captor.


    Alenna frowned and raised her hand. The rip slowly mended, pushing back against Sarien’s attempt to break free.


    “Enough of this,” Alenna growled. Her brow knitted with concentration. The world became more distinct, the smell of fresh bread overpowering and a feeling of helplessness tried to worm its way into Sarien.


    Something broke the councilwoman’s concentration. Her eyes widened, and she looked to the side, as if startled.


    The illusion broke and Sarien tumbled into darkness.


    He groaned as he opened his eyes, rubbing at them with numb hands. His cheek was pressed against the floor. His body was cold, stiff, and unresponsive.


    Stark, blue-white light filled the room. It was the same, yet different. The books were stacked haphazardly, and the plants withered in their pots. To his left, Ein was regaining consciousness, and to his right, Kax looked blessedly unharmed.


    “What is the meaning of this?” Alenna said, outraged.


    A new voice reached Sarien’s ears. “How dare you do this to my son?”


    Sarien stoked the gray flame within him, reveling in his restored access to it.


    “So that’s how it will be? This is your choice? Do you really believe the Prime will let you go?”


    Ein groaned. “Anja?”


    “Yes, dear,” Sarien’s mother said, before turning back to Alenna. “What is Chaos if not the harbinger of choice?”


    Alenna harrumphed but did not argue.


    “I do not mean to go against the Council’s wishes. You have stepped out of line and acted on your own in this. Sarien is to join us, not to be dissected. I’ll handle them from here. You may go.”


    “This is my house,” Alenna said.


    Now, back in this paler, darker reality, he saw that the old woman was still wearing her mask, gloves, and robe.


    Kax stirred and sat on his haunches, eyes directed at Alenna. Hungry.


    “Kax, don’t,” Sarien said.


    “I see no reason to keep her out of the darkness. Her lifespan has been great, her atrocities many.”


    “It might attract others. Just let her go.”


    Kax looked like he’d swallowed something rancid, but he relented.


    Alenna reached for the book that she’d read from in the illusion, but Sarien’s mother set a gloved hand on top of it. A strong, pale light glowed in the palm of her other hand.


    “Leave,” Anja commanded.


    The old woman glared at Sarien when she walked past them. She was shocked to see Kax, which Sarien found satisfying.


    Once she was gone, the three of them stood and faced Sarien’s mother. She looked fearsome, garbed fully in white with her intricately carved mask. The power in her hand never wavered.


    “Mother?” Sarien asked.


    She removed her mask.


    “You’re helping us now, all of a sudden? Or are you looking to experiment on me, too?”


    She smiled slightly and an ache filled Sarien’s chest. He saw her for who she truly was. Not a member of the Council, but his mother. The one who had abandoned him.


    “I have come to help you, my dear son.”