The Starlight Lancer

Chapter Ten: The Ancient Enemy

"Were it a different time I would've taken your head for the mere utterance of that name."

—High Priest of Byzon Gralfer Junderwaithe to Brunda Balforam, in reference to the Eldritch

"The Eldritch?"

The Raolgrian rubbed his chin and said, "Yes. It used to travel from world to world creating heretics, bestowing those it deemed worthy with the mark to bind them to its will. However, the last time it was seen, it attempted to destroy a world called Symerda in similar fashion to what it's doing here. That was five hundred and thirteen years ago, if memory serves."

Zaina shuddered, wondering what about her was worthy to that monster. "What the hell is it?"

The Raolgrian gave the spit another turn and said, "No one knows for sure. Most believe it to be a cosmic spirit of some kind—a primordial entity having existed before the beginning of time. It predates the Synatorium, as well as the Order of Riiva."

Zaina gulped. That didn't sound good. "What—what does it want?"

Gir's long, sliver-like pupils were focused elsewhere. "We aren't sure. It hasn't been seen since the Crisis on Symerda. A High Lancer gave her life to drive the Eldritch back, but its goals were never understood. Her name was High Lancer Ela Artfor, a true hero through and through. As for the Eldritch, many believed it died those five hundred years ago. I did. It seems the Order, and some within the Synatorium, did not, and they stayed vigilant in their defense; now their wisdom has paid off."

Cautiously optimistic, she asked, "Do you—do you think if we kill the Eldritch, it'll get rid of the mark?"

Gir's head swayed back and forth, and a sharp sigh released from his lungs. "I'm not sure if killing it is even possible. Only two weapons in recorded history have harmed it, both at the Crisis on Symerda five hundred years ago—the cipher of High Lancer Ela Artfor, and the Origin Warhead."

Zaina's stomach sank. Not a comforting answer, but at least it was honest. "But—isn't that why you're here? To defeat it?"

"Well," he said, "yes and no. It's unlikely I'd be successful if I tried to take the Eldritch on directly. That's why I've brought this." He pulled a small, black cube out of his pocket. It had a single, ever-present red light on the side facing Zaina. "This is the Origin Warhead, the weapon that thwarted it five hundred years ago."

"What?" Zaina recoiled, stumbling over her thoughts. "A bomb? You have a bomb?"

In a matter-of-fact tone, Gir replied, "The Origin Warhead isn't a bomb—it's a terraforming device. It was originally designed to prepare barren worlds for future habitation. But when the Eldritch's attack caused cataclysmic damage to the atmosphere and climate on Symerda, the warhead was brought along in hopes of stabilizing the environmental catastrophe over the course of a couple millennia. Unfortunately, High Lancer Artfor perished in the blast after fighting off the Eldritch."

Zaina blurted out, "A—I'm sorry, what? A couple millennia? What—why would the Synatorium do that? Why haven't they—well, tried something else?"

Gir pulled the meat from the flame and leaned back as it cooled. In a low, clicking voice, he said, "It's not like they can send a traditional army to fight it. They tried a few thousand years ago—it didn't end well. The Synatorium has done all it can. They helped the Order develop a galaxy-wide detection system—hence my timely arrival—and they supply the Origin Warhead and assist however they can in planetary evacuations and resettlement."

"But still—thousands of years?"

Gir gave a knowing nod, his lips pursed in frustration. "The Order and Synatorium are both keen on long-term planning. The Origin Warhead isn't a miracle worker."