Disclaimer:
These characters do not belong to me, but to the writers and producers
of
Spoilers: After Chant Down Babylon, changes happening
where Max is successfully rescued, and Michael was the one who broke up with
Maria.
Pairings: You’ll have to wait and see!
Pronunciation
Guide:
Author’s notes: Queen Fadilia
Kedar: Max/Isabel’s mother
King
Alaric Kedar: Max/Isabel’s father
Andaria: Tess’ mother
Radim:
Tess’ father
Kedrans: race from which Royal Four descended
Iturians: race from which Khivar descended, and
overthrew and killed Zan and the Kedrans
Cerideans: special core ops of the Iturian army, mostly
psyonics and telepaths
Kaptar’s
Jewel: constellation in the
Antarian’s star system
Yun’s
Garment: Aurora Borealis - Northern Lights
Saren Dari: desert plain on
Antar
Chasser :
animal similar to a cat
Chapter Fifty Seven
***
One who never turned his back but marched breast
forward, never doubted clouds would break, Never dreamed, though right were
worsted, wrong would triumph, Held we fall to rise, are baffled to fight
better, sleep to wake. .
- Robert Browning
***
"Isabel?" Michael felt disoriented and nauseous, as he
searched through the ominous abyss.
"Are you out here?" he called urgently. His hands reached out, as a blind man,
searching for his way.
"Here..."
a voice beckoned. "Come
here." Its voice was airy and
welcoming.
Michael
tightly squeezed his eyes shut, trying to stop the pounding within his ears,
focusing solely on Isabel's face. It
was all he knew to do. Somewhere in the
back of his mind, he knew if he let himself lose concentration, he would be
lost out here. "Isabel," he
called out again. "Where are
you?" He willed his legs to move
forward, as if travelling through the thick dense space; every step was a
battle, as if he were walking up a steep hill.
"Here!"
a voice said excitedly. "I've been
searching for you forever!"
Michael
turned his ear towards the direction of the voice. "Who are you?"
His mind wandered slightly, feeling drawn to the inviting voice, as if
being drawn in by some mystic force.
"It's
been such a tiring search," it explained mournfully. "I only now recognized your voice. Where have you been? We have been waiting!"
Michael
felt a heaviness sit on his chest, as he stepped tentatively towards the
person, who seemed to know him. Now, he
was no longer in control, as if some thing had attached an invisible binding
around his waist, which he was being forced towards this sudden warm, amber
glow that appeared unexpectedly. He
knew that this situation was dangerous and began to struggle against the
overwhelming drag of the mind reaching out to him.
"I
can't wait to see you face to face," the voice exclaimed. Its voice grew louder, causing the pounding
in Michael's ears to intensify. He
stumbled forward, losing all sense of balance.
"It's been so long since I've spoken to anyone!" Michael squinted, caused by the sudden
exposure to the now, pulsating light in front of him and also the wretching
pain that throbbed between his ears. He
was overcome by a sense of helplessness, as waves of nausea flooded over him,
which deterred him from voicing his pain and fear. "Don't fight...it hurts less that way."
Michael
stumbled over his feet and fell onto his knees. He felt the force slacken and allow him a brief respite from its
bending will. His breath was shallow
and raspy. Michael's throat felt like
it was ready to implode from the mind's strength. A dry hacking cough emerged from his weary 'body', hampering his
ability to draw sufficient oxygen into his lungs. He rested his moist forehead against the dark, surreal floor
underneath him. "What do you
want?" he shouted between coughs.
"You're killing me!"
The
amber light pulsed, illuminating the unseen sphere with such a burst of
intensity that Michael had to shield his eyes, fearing it would blind him. When the radiating pulse had subsided,
Michael peered out from under his arm and saw that the light had drawn nearer,
and would soon be upon him. "I can
help you," it said soothingly.
"I can take away the pain..."
Michael
closed his eyes and braced himself for the impending death he was certain
approached by way of that faceless light.
'You
must fight.'
Michael
frowned. He searched subtly, the empty
abyss for the new voice that spoke to him, but all he was confronted by was the
looming, foreboding light.
"Only
a matter of time now," the amber lit voice soothed. "Soon you won't wander these dark
hollows anymore."
Michael
felt the heaviness return to him, as if a presence was pushing down upon him,
its hot breath bore down his bare neck.
He could not think, his mind clouded by an unexpected fear. He was going to die.
'You
can defend yourself, MIchael.'
Michael
shook his head in protest. He couldn't
stop this being, whatever it was; he was out of his element. How could he deal with something without a
physical body?
'You
must. I have equipped you for fiercer
enemies than this.' The tone of the
unseen voice was demanding and wielded some unexplainable authority.
Michael
swallowed; his throat was dry and longed for the cool, clear life giving fluid
that existed outside this dreamscape.
"I can't," he gasped.
"He's overtaking me."
He blinked several times as the amber light now hovered in front of him.
'Depend
not on yourself and what you know is at your grasp,;' the gentle voice
coaxed. 'But trust in Me.'
As the
light expanded, radiating a sudden, scorching heat, Michael felt himself wilt
under its exhibition of power.
"You have no choice but to come to me," the dark, triumphant
voice declared. "You are nothing
compared to my indomitable will."
'Do
you hear my voice, Michael?' the voice questioned solemnly, as if unconcerned
with the imminent figure before him was of no concern to it.
"I
hear you," he grimaced. "But
the fact that I'm about to die is foremost in my mind right now." His teeth clenched in apprehension and pain.
'If
you trust in Me..."
Michael
felt himself being enveloped by the creature of light; its energy eating away
at his flesh, his mind slowly deteriorating - his essence slowly being stripped
away. The amber light grew, as if with
each piece of him that disappeared into the blinding radiance fed its
insatiable appetite, until it filled every corner of the dark abyss with its
presence. Michael strained against the
torturous dispirsion of his entire being, using every ounce of strength he had
left to extract himself from the frightening menace; but it was too much and he
could fight no more. Taking what he
thought to be his last breath, Michael surrendered to the unknown machination
of death.
Undeniable
peace filled his mind as he felt himself floating, hovering in a transiendental
plane without state or being, within the silent death. Michael no longer felt the pain or the
torturous dissection of his mind; but he was made whole, in a deeper sense than
he had ever known before. The amber
light was usurped by an indescribable, white light - more pure than he had ever
witnessed before.
'I
will lead the blind by a road they do not know, by paths they have not known I
will guide them. I will turn the
darkness before them into light, the rough places into level ground. These are the things I will do, and I will
not forsake them.'
Michael
heard the words uttered from the radiance before him and turned away, its light
too bright to look upon. He did not
understand what it was, whether he was dead and this was what heaven or hell
was like; it was like those stories about entering a white light, yet still,
somehow different. Before he could
question the voice again - for he had regained his voice - the white light
faded and he once again stood in the empty abyss of darkness. He pulse was racing, as was his mind.
What
had that been?
Michael
furrowed his brow and turned around, in the opposite direction of the 'siren',
who had nearly cost him his life, only to find himself standing in front of a
dim, cloudy vision.
The
outer edge of the image was clouded, as the light rippled across its silky,
movie-like screen. He could see
Isabel's face under what seemed to be water; her face pale against the wash of
a pulsing lavender glow. This had been
his dream. Michael stepped forward,
reaching out with his hand, believing that there was a possibility of
contacting her through this fog of a dream, and tried to step through the
projection of wavering images that filled the black void. The image muddled and became distorted, as
if he had just touched his reflection in a clear lake, causing a large ripple
effect, which impinged on the image of Isabel's limp body, making it dissipate
into a collage of colours.
Michael
swallowed hard as the image of Isabel floating in some strange glass casing
caused an uncomfortable lump to develop in his throat, almost choking him. Though she was hideously ensnared in a
prison of glass and water, with black tubes inserted into her nose, mouth and
underneath her skin, the one relief it brought him - if he was to believe this
was the condition she was in - was that she was alive. Whatever pain and suffering she was enduring
at the hands of whatever faceless enemy, she was alive. He closed his eyes and exhaled slowly. He needed to be with her; somehow he needed
to reach her.
When
he opened his eyes, once again the watery screen had converged into one fluid
image, and he could see Isabel's unconscious form floating in the stasis
unit. Michael did not attempt to reach
out to her through the billowy portal that had been miraculously given to him
during his despairing search for answers - what he should do. Still there were no complete answers. As he watched Isabel, who was unable to
reach out to him, to speak to him as she once did, his heart began to ache once
more. He had been able to set aside his
earnest desire to remain with her on Earth, knowing that he would be serving a
greater good by returning to Antar, only a few days ago; but now he felt it
surge forth with overwhelming force to conquer his duty to the people of Antar.
How
was he to save an entire planet when his heart was back on Earth?
~~~
"Turn
my eyes away from worthless things; preserve my life according to your
word. Fulfill your promise to your
servant, so that you may be feared.
Take away the disgrace I dread, for your laws are good."
Psalm
119:36-39. Max took a deep breath as the army
approached, with its overwhelming numbers, and looked out into the fading
horizon. The day had not yet ended; but
the previously clear, blue sky clouded over with wisps of grey. He closed his eyes and swallowed hard. "Please God, give me the strength to
complete the task you have chosen me to do," he said under his breath; his
eyes never left the grey shadow that was inching its way down the rocky terrain. "I don't know what to do..."
Max felt
his heart pounding against his chest, so loud that he was certain even his
enemy could hear it. HIs fingers closed
in on his sweaty palms; and his mind raced for some strategy against the blood
thirsty horde. He had lost all
confidence and strength after ordering Liz below the surface. The impending battle that approached on
quickened feet seemed to finally weigh on him.
How
was he going to defeat an army of hundreds?
They knew him, even more than he knew himself.
Max
inhaled the thickening air, which surrounded him; with the cool, dew of rain
carried in on the breeze of the clouds.
A distance roll of thunder caught his ear, as the darkness enveloped the
hot scorching sands. His chest
tightened, as he continued to watch the steadily advancing troops; his breath
shortened and he felt a slow ache developing in his right side. Max fell to his knees, bowing his head in
submission to the pain; as a trickle of moist perspiration slid down his temple
and wetting the copper floor, he could only focus on his breathing.
This
is insane. How could I ever have
thought I could face a trained army of hundreds of soldiers?
Max shook
his head. He felt small and
insignificant. Though he had powers
only dreamt about in movies and storybooks, he couldn't fathom how he was going
to stand against these men. Max
groaned. As the word 'men' crossed his
mind, he forced himself to glance down into the blurred shadows, focusing on
one lone figure, marching in time to the rhythm of the assembly. He couldn't make out facial details, but as
he suspected, the figure, as well as the rest of the army, came calling for his
blood, in human form.
Khivar's
men had somehow found the resources to possess hundreds of male specimens to
aid them in their search for him, Isabel, and Michael. Max closed his eyes and ran his fingers
through is damp hair. What else
could go wrong? He shook his head
in anger; it was one thing to come after him and his family, but to use
unwitting humans to accomplish their mission was cruel and unthinkable. As he began to pace back and forth on the
peak of the plateau, Max's mind churned with a new focus and determination - he
had to stop them, whatever the cost. If
he didn't win this battle here on Earth, then all was lost on Antar; but how
was he going to deal with the mindless host bodies?
Once
more, Max looked up towards the heavens, which had turned a foreboding, charcoal
grey - dark clouds had draped the once serene skies in a thick veil, shutting
out all signs of the previously untouched afternoon. "Will you help me?
Or am I running a fool's gambit?" he muttered to himself, while
gazing out into the sea of men. Their
leader had almost reached the base of the rock formation. "Are you going to have me kill hundreds
of men in one fell swoop?"
The idea
made him shudder. It could not happen;
he couldn't do it. Max closed his eyes
to the ominous turn the battle had taken, even before either side had made a
strategic move.
Had
the battle ended before it had even begun?
~~~
Jesse
paced back and forth, as the confining, earthen enclosure was beginning to
cause a claustrophobic reaction within him.
The minutes passed by at a snail's pace. And when Liz had finally joined him within the hidden alien
architecture, she brought nothing but unsettling news; as Max stood atop the
precipitous bedrock of his defiant recalcitrance, confronting a foe of
unpredictable magnitude.
"What
can we do?" he said in exasperation.
"We can't just let him face them alone!" He strode towards the narrow entrance and
pointed to the growing darkness that had suddenly appeared, which compounded
the strained apprehension in his heart.
Liz closed
her eyes and tried to stay her irritation at Jesse's obvious statement, taking
a deep breath and exhaling slowly.
"I know." Her voice
was strained with forced civility.
"But Max insisted."
Liz began to wring her fingers and pace back and forth, as Jesse had
been doing when she entered the cool, geometrical abode. "I don't know what we can do right now,
but Max seems to know what he's doing right now," she reasoned to Jesse,
as a million thoughts flooded her already cluttered mind. She stuffed her hands in her backpocket, in
an attempt to stop her fidgeting; but found her right pocket was a forgotten
niche for a hard plastic object, which slipped around her fingertip. Liz pulled out the unfamiliar item and placed
it in the palm of her hand.
In it,
she saw a lime green plastic ring with two small green aliens leaning against
each other; with a hard plastic bubble dome, capturing the amusing sight. Liz felt a lump grow in her dry throat. Kyle had won this for her at the fair. It had been the only thing he had won
throughout the entire night.
"A
token of our friendship," Kyle bowed, presenting her with a ring. He slid the ring on her pinky finger, the
only one it would fit on, and wiped his forehead of the perspiration that had
developed after earnestly picking out the right floating yellow duck that swam
around the narrow stream, which ran around the entire booth. His eyes sparkled; a wide grin materialized
upon his boyish face.
Liz bit
her bottom lip and slowly closed her trembling fingers around the cheap,
mass-produced trinket and pressed her hand against her lips. Kyle. She had left everything on such bad terms. Her heart skipped a beat when she allowed
her thoughts to trail down an unthinkable path. Liz shook her head and clenched her jaw.
No. He was coming back. She would have a chance to apologize for his heartfelt
attempt to advise her. Kyle would
live, as well as Maria and the others.
~~~
"You're
a lucky child." Nicholas briefly
glanced at the dark-haired child, whose strange blue eyes twinkled against his
fair complexion. He turned back towards
the semi-transluscent, greyish-silver globe that was suspended in the air by
two black clawlike hands, which emerged from the shadowed opening in the
ceiling and floor, and admired the work of art. The contraption Khivar's architects had built was unimpressive to
the mere observer's eye; but the power it yielded was unimaginable - if in the
right hands. "You really should be
honored," he reflected out loud, as he circled the genius that would make
galaxies bow before the once-dismissed Antarian. "Not everyone was created for such a task."
"Daaaaaaaa,"
the baby gurgled, reaching out from the sleek, body contouring, cushion seat.
Nicholas
stopped in his tracks, by the baby's innocent cry. His head leaned towards the non-stop jabber of the unsuspecting
child; his gaze slowly scanned the room until it met the excitable child's
inquisitive eyes. He took a few
tentative steps toward the child, who had been put under his care; and as his
heart began to palpitate in an unusual rhythm.
As he approached the incarnation of his mortal enemies, Nicholas
swallowed hard; his eyes narrowed and he leaned over the smiling child, until
his nose was close enough to smell the familiar scent of Iturian wildberries on
his breath.
"What
are you trying to do to me?" Nicholas whispered, as one of Zander's small
palms pressed against his cheek.
"I cannot help you."
He straightened up quickly, as if remaining in close proximity to the
child could, somehow, inherently lead him somewhere he didn't want to be. Nicholas turned his back on the child, and
in doing so, was confronted by the machination of power that loomed over
them.
"It
must be done." His voice was
resolute.
Nicholas
walked towards the machine, as if he was drawn by some magnetic force. "It's all been planned."
~~~
"Have
we heard anything from General Qunar?" Khivar barked to the unsuspecting
lieutenant, who had appeared for his evening shift in the communication's
centre.
"Uh..I-I
don't know sir," the lieutenant stuttered, as he slighly cowered under
Khivar's intense scrutiny.
Khivar
growled in frustration and apprehension.
"Why have we not heard from him?"
"Sir,"
a skinny, pale officer said loudly and curtly; as a soldier would address his
commander. "General Qunar would
probably be engaging our enemy in battle at this moment." As soon as he finished injecting his own
insight, the lieutenant saluted and sat down at his communication station, and
returned to his work.
Khivar
thought about his last conference with the General and nodded.
It made
sense. When they had last spoken, Qunar
had informed them that they had captured Vilandra and several human hostages -
people who were close to Zan. It had
brought him a sense of triumph and joy, as he could almost taste the victory at
his grasp.
Zan had
been caught unawares, and this had made it easier for Qunar to execute Khivar's
plan. Even though he had received
disconsolate news about Rath and Ava's return to Antar, and their unknown
whereabouts, Qunar's quickness against Zan would bring his plan to
fruition. He would be Ruler of all
of Sentris Onaxis.
Zan was
weak. His hybrid form would crumble
under Qunar's army's agile and debilitating strikes, and would have the 'dead
king' buried in his grave for the last time.
Khivar clasped his hands together and pressed them against his thin
lips.
Yes,
yes. The Prophecy would be seen as a
fraud, when he had broadcast the final minutes of the Loyalists' 'Great
King''s' life.
~~~
'Give
me strength'
Tess
tossed and turned in her bed, sleeping restlessly.
Max
stood upon the edge of a cliff; his usually intense dark eyes stared out into
the distance, as if seeing a despairing image or terrifying event. Tess turned and tried to see what he saw,
but nothing would allow her focus to leave Max's uncertain and trepidatious face. She was unable to discern what exactly held
him in this state of fear, but part of her knew that his feelings were real,
and what he faced was one of the defining moments in his life. Her heart beat against her chest in time
with his, as she stood at his side; he was completely unaware of her presence.
"Max?"
she whispered into his ear, as she consciously slipped her cool fingers into
his palm, squeezing ever so gently.
"I'm here."
Max's
eyes flickered, as if in recognition; though his gaze never left whatever lay
ahead.
Tess
furrowed her brow and leaned in closer, pressing her body against his arm, as
she allowed herself to indulgently run her fingers through the back of his
hair, and whispered in his hear once more.
"Whatever it is, Max, I know you can face it. You are stronger than this." She paused, biting the bottom of her lip, as
she tried to understand what trial or
test he was confronted by. "You once
asked me why I believed in you so much, and I told you it was because you were
probably one great husband?" Tess
closed her eyes and licked her lips, recalling the familiar images of her
past. He had been a great husband -
loving, kind, and passionate. She felt
her heart skip a beat at the fond memories.
At one time, they had brought her comfort and hope.
How
she had missed him!
Suddenly
Tess opened her eyes and stared up at Max's unchanged expression; her whole
soul and body, alive with hope and understanding. "Well that's not true anymore," she breathed, squeezing
his hand tightly. "I don't believe
in you because of the man you were; but I believe in you because of the man you
are." Her blood raced within her
veins, warming every inch of her body, making her skin tingle. Tess strained upwards, as she stood on her
tiptoes and pressed her lips on his cheek.
"I love you Maxwell, because you are the Chosen One; and your
people believe in you. Even though
you're world's away, know that we are waiting for you to come home."
Tess
relaxed her body, and stood flatfooted before Max. She closed her eyes and leaned her forehead against his
shoulder. There was no telling what
this vision or dream meant; or whether it was happening at all. As she let out a ragged breath, Tess felt an
almost imperceptible caress. When she
looked up, Max's dark brooding eyes met her uncertain gaze. His hand, which was grasped tightly in hers,
slipped out from under it, and reached up tenderly; his fingertips slightly
grazed her cheek, sending a spine-tingling chill down her back.
"Max,"
she whispered, her voice barely audible; as his reaction caught her offguard -
dream or not.
Tess
closed her eyes and she felt his tentative hands cup her face, bringing his
face closer to hers, until they were only inches apart. She swallowed hard; it had been long since
he had touched her like this. When she
opened her eyes, Maxwell's gaze was riveted to hers; they were both frozen in
time.
"Tess,"
Max said solemnly. "Thank
you."
Tess
blinked, uncertain of his words; she opened her mouth to speak, but Max pressed
his thumb against them, halting her questions.
He straightened up and smiled softly.
"You were the answer to my prayers."
With
that, Max faded from view and she stood alone once more.
~ * ~
"Max!" Tess sat up, awaking from her dream; her
breathing was uneven and shallow. She
surveyed her surroundings and reorientated herself. Her hand brushed back the loose curls that fell into her eyes,
leaving her hand resting against the back of her neck. The rise and fall of her chest slowed, as
she leaned back against the wall behind her, while taking deep breaths after
the indecipherable dream.
What
had it meant? What did it mean?
Tess
closed her eyes and licked her dry lips.
Her whole body was alive after her encounter with Max. His warm, soft hand against her face...it
had been so comforting and powerfully real.
His words - they held such gratitude, and even, tenderness - echoed in
her thoughts.
'You
were the answer to my prayers.'
Tess
pulled the warm sheets against her chest and bit the inside of her cheek. Max.
Her silent cry was now filled with some measure of hope. As she stared up towards the distant
heavens, her body shivered. A thickness
developed in her throat, where a slight strain began to tug at the base of
it. Tess pulled her knees up towards
her chest, hugging them; she gently began rocking herself, as her thoughts were
consumed with images - memories of Max.
She rested her forehead against her knees; squeezing her eyes tightly in
an attempt to stop the tears that were forming, her body began to
convulse. Finally, Tess collapsed in a
flood of tears.
She
needed him. Oh how she needed him. Tess knew she could not do this without
him. Maxwell was her other half; she
knew that with every fibre of her being.
Tess
wiped away the tears, which stained her cheeks. She stared up at the endless expanse above her, and let out a
feeble, choked sigh. She was tired of
lying to everyone, including herself.
Swallowing
hard, Tess cleared her throat and tucked a few strands of hair behind her
ear. "I...I know I haven't tried
to understand you," she said slowly, unsure of how to approach this
'Being' that had been slowly wearing her down, until she was ready to
surrender. She had reached that point,
now. "But I don't know where else
to turn." Her voice had now become
a whisper, as her tears began to well up inside again. Tess hastily wiped away a stray tear from
the corner of her eye and turned back to this 'God' who had gotten her into
this predicament.
Tess took
a deep breath and exhaled slowly.
"I need him." Her
voice cracked.
She
licked her lips and tried to regain her composure, while speaking to someone,
who for all purposes, was invisible. He
was the first to hear her voice, what in her heart, seemed impossible, her
heart's desire. Never would she allow
such a complete breakdown, except under the veil of a closed room, with a Deity
that would never reveal her secret.
"I
don't know how to talk to you," she blurted out, shaking her head. "But if you're there...I need Max. I don't want my son to be fatherless. I don't want to live without him." Tess reached over to her nightstand and
pulled out a thin, silky, paper mesh square; she blew her nose and wiped the
relapsing tears from her cheek.
"God, why does it have to be so hard?" The frustration in her voice was only
tentamount to the hope she had received from her vision.
Her
shoulders drooped; she was tired of holding herself together - in the presence
of others and in the quietness of her private room. Tess struggled to understand where she stood with this 'God',
whom she still held a reservation about, and how he was to communicate with her
- if he desired that at all.
As she
sat in her bed, the events of the day, and the physical activities she
participated in seemed to catch up with her.
Tess yawned, and forced her eyes to remain open. There was still so many unfinished details
she wanted to discuss with 'him'.
"How
long do I have to wait?" she asked tiredly, snuggling under her warm
covers. "Can't you just give me a
time frame?"
Prayer
seemed like the only way to communicate with this 'God', which was tiring; she
had never heard so much silence in her life.
Tess glanced up towards the small portal above her bed and groaned. "I want to believe." There was a hesitancy in her voice. "But I'm running a little short
on...faith, so if you could just, maybe help me out in that
department." Tess
paused."Fadilia seems to have a overflowing abundance of it...maybe if
just a little could rub off on me..."
Suddenly
her head bobbed forward, and Tess snapped her head up in surprise - unaware
that she was ready to drop from exhaustion.
Tess rested her eyes for a moment, relieving the stinging ache that had
developed behind her eyes. She was too
tired to think or debate the idea of a 'Higher Power' at work in her life. The dream or vision had lifted her spirits,
but also brought more questions; she couldn't focus, let alone find any
answers, in the state she was in.
Tess
sighed, letting her entire body relax - laying back on her pillow. Her eyes flitted, as the weight of her weary
body finally overwhelmed her, causing her eyelids to slowly lower and
close. "Oh Max," she
muttered, almost incoherently. "You
could...a-answer my prayers, too."
Her voice trailed off, as she fell back into an undisturbed slumber.