Surrender (Book 1 of The Baneseeker Project)

Coda - End of Time

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Time stretched and thinned, slowed and coalesced, until Lyna felt its weigh on her skin, all around her, enveloping her like a protective shield, like a veil between her being and the world.

She opened her eyes and the Territories of Sij appeared ahead.

The land of her ancestors.

She looked at them through the gigantic standing stone arch, hidden from the village, its green veins dead, its structure cracked and weakened, just like Lyna herself.

Once, long after the road and arch had fallen to disuse, sacrifices had been made in this location. Thieves and brigands, outlaws and outcasts, brought from a city or another to Tanazu, to be banished into a once radiant realm become a land of tortured wraiths and spirits.

"Walk", they had been told.

Walk into the woods... or be killed under this arch, your soul sucked into one of the many gems encrusted into the stone.

Walk into the woods... and get a quick death, instead of suffering a slow death as your life was painfully drained away by the arch.

After enchanting the bracelet, Lyna had bid her farewells to Hebsibia and found herself facing a decrepit old man: Theo, storyteller and Writer of history. The man had aged badly, his luxurious brown hair now faded and sparse, his skin plagued with spots and covered in too many wrinkles. Yet, his eyes had been the same, crystal blue and piercing.

"It is you," he had said. "I thought I heard Onthar mention your name."

"It is I," Lyna had said, remembering the long nights she had spent with him at the temple in Telstar. At the time, he had been blessed by his god with immortality and the ability to evade sleep. Throughout the nights, he would tell her stories, certainly, but also share knowledge, of which he had an infinite quantity.

"I will leave the two of you," Hebsibia had said.

Lyna had considered leaving right away, but then decided to stay.

Stay with Theo and reenacted nostalgic moments, with her seated cross-legged on the floor and him across from her, talking and talking. His voice had been weaker than she had remembered, and the words had come slowly. But she had listened patiently. Theo spoke about Sij, about the rich and majestic land it had once been, about how it had been the envy of many, about how the arch had once welcomed travellers into its borders, and how it had been desecrated by an ambitious king, gems hammered into its columns, forcefully, morphing the arch from a symbol of hope to one of fear, transforming it into an execution site.

She would have stayed with Theo much longer, had not the man needed his rest.

Lyna pulled on time, roughly, with as much strength as she could muster. Around, everything was already stopped. Ahead, in the woods, apparitions fluttered around, between trunks and leaves. The more she slowed time, the more numerous they got.

Spectres. Ghosts. Spirits.

All unaffected by her power, impervious to the flow of time.

Some, like the one she had seen a few days ago, had similar features to hers. Her kin, who had most likely once lived in the beautiful lands of Sij. They all bore an eternal sadness on their faces.

Others were victims, sacrifices. They were much greater in number. Brought here with the sole purpose of ending their lives, possibly sacrificed under this very arch. These were more agitated, their glow stronger, their pain painted roughly on their face. Looking at their misery was difficult.

Lyna had been naive, naive to have believed that she would come here and walk into the woods and join her ancestors.

She could not.

It was not only that she was afraid. She was also sad, a sadness so deep and so painful that she wished she had never set eyes on Sij. It was a sadness spanning centuries, a sadness for all of her kin who had lost their motherland, as she had, but also for all those who had died here, in a place that had been twisted, and cursed, and through evil she could not understand, made to be the total opposite of everything it had once stood for.

And so, instead of walking into Sij, Lyna had decided to face it, to look upon it, as she faded away and as she let go of life.

She tugged, and pulled, and willed time to slow down even farther. She had never pushed her ability this far before. Around her, the pressure of compressed time was thick, almost palpable. Completely invisible to her eyes, but not her being.

The deeper she went, the heavier it got. Her breathing became difficult. She had expected this, something like this, but it did not lessen the struggle. She wondered if she would be able to push through. She wondered if drowning was similar to what she was experiencing.

She dove deeper and noticed that some of the gems on the grey arch had started to glow. The light came from inside each stone, from the spirits imprisoned there. Pulsations that were not noticeable when time flowed normally.

And deep into the green veins of the arch, a pale light shown, so far away... but there.

Hope?

The sensation of the ground under her feet suddenly disappeared, replaced by the pressure of time. Her breaths were prolonged, each one a struggle.

And then, she noticed something impossible, something incredible.

Some of the spectres had slowed to a crawl, as if they were wading in thick mud. They were not immune to her power after all! She just had to go deeper, much deeper.

She started to be impacted directly. Her vision suddenly blurred and her head started to spin. She would not be able to stay here much longer.

Lyna concentrated, readied herself.

She thought of those she had met since her arrival to the Surface. She thought of her travels, of Dalahana, an elf from Quilanis who called her friend. She thought of Argon, of the training she undertook at Kolt, of his confidence and strength. She thought of Onthar and how he had liberated her, brought her to his world, where she had never been able to fit in. She skimmed through the years before these, through the hardships of the Nether, the mines of Quartas, her years serving Valtharas, until she found herself with her mother and father, looking back at Kvanas, leaving. Then, she thought about her motherland, about playing there... she had had friends, she had had dreams. She had being happy.

In what had been another life.

Tapping in what energy she had left, Lyna called upon time one last time, without mercy, without control... and a barrier broke... and as it did, time collapsed and crashed down on her, a flood, pummelling her before invading her, through all the pores of her body and mind... Grasping her in a crushing embrace.

And stopping... her muscles and movement. Her eyes and sight. Her lungs and breathing.

And then, lastly, her heart, and her life.