DarkLight

Part 39: Facing Her

A wave of hot air hit him. He didn’t think it was so bad-could he actually survive this attack? He wasn’t sure. Then the searing purple light was all around him, the rushing sound was so loud that he was temporarily deafened. The pale blue shield that Soran had surrounded himself with was beginning to fade, faultering under the bombardment of Rammachandra’s ancient weapon. The Displacement Wave started to break through the shield, hitting Soran-he could feel his skin burning as the Electromagnetic Shield slowly faded, subjecting him to the full force of the attack. His skin felt like fire as it started to disintegrate off of his body. Would the Darklight Sword survive this attack? Or would it be disintegrated too? Would he be remembered? He was going to die and not avenge Natasha.

The pain was excruciating now, his body felt like it was on fire. How much time had passed? He didn’t know. The pain was forcing him out of the physical world and into his mind. He was on the table in the Memorium back in Eresmai, Kisa’s tinny voice was telling him about Genetic Memory, and Specific Genetic Memory between Skry who share genetic codes. He shared aspects of his genetics with Rammachandra-one of the most ancient Skry. Her DNA was used to create him and her Arcane Knowledge came from the most ancient and powerful of bloodlines.

The purple light of the Displacement Wave faded to nothing and he was flying through the darkness, various images and languages flowing over him.

“Time” one said. “Time is fluid. Time is energy”. 

He didn’t understand fully, but he understood the concept. He began to think of time and space as a stream that he was climbing out of. The burning was fading-was he dead?

He was out of the stream and standing on a grassy bank, a dense forest lay behind the tree line all around him and the moon was large and full in the night sky above. There was no Utopia City, no Jubilee Cannon, no war-just serene silence filled with the sound of the river. The stars were hugely magnified. It was beautiful. He approached the river. Within it he could see the pebelled riverbed, but suspended in the water were images-like reflections of things which weren’t there. An explosion in a city of the past, a crying baby, Rammachandra’s Corporation, Lord Mallix and finally a sprawling forest.

Suddenly the grassy outcrop which he was standing upon gave way, causing Soran to tumble into the stream. He hit the surface and was dragged underwater by the torrential current. The stream was much deeper than it seemed. He was struggling for air. The burning had completely stopped. Everything was fading and he passed out-still being dragged along. The last thing that he was aware of was a voice, a raspy voice close to his ear.

“The Armoured King holds the answers”.