With greed and contempt for all living things not in their likeness, they tear into the earth, they fell the trees, they pollute the air, they  pest the water.

Had I known it would be like this, I would have never volunteered to stay behind.

It was tearing my soul apart to stand idly by and watch them tread nature with spike-shod feet. But what could I do? I had sworn. 

A thunder as of many storms arose and the gigantic statue of our beloved Star-Queen came crushing down into the dirt. A wave of dust enveloped and veiled the whole encampment from my eyes.

I balled my hands to fists. Rage and hate cursed trough me, feelings previously unknown. They tormented my soul as I struggled to comprehend the sudden urge to fall into their ranks like a scythe into corn.

Not long now and they will have burnt and hacked their way to the end of the valley. I redirected my gaze to the left and reappeared next to one of the gate trees. I touched its bark and closed my eyes. I imagined what it would feel like to see these two ancient giants fall prey to the flames… there it was again, this red-hot feeling.

“You feel it, do you not?”

I turn my head.

“Yiarse.”

“Why do you torment yourself so?” She came closer, laid her hand on the bark next to mine. “To think the gate trees will soon fuel their machines…” She shook her head sadly.

I tore away, anger scorching my insides.

“What do you want, sister?”

“Sister?” She tsked. “You make me sad. We shared so much more…”

“That time is in the past.”

“Is it not our duty as Keepers to honor the past?”

I felt my nerves vibrate with dislike, just as they did every time she decided to bestow the grace of her presence upon me. Maybe because I was not as averse to her seductive whispers as I used to be.

“What do you want?” I asked tiredly.

“You know what I want.” She tilted her head to the side. “The Elders did not choose the two of us blindly. Open your eyes. Together, we can stop them.”

“No.” I brushed her idea aside. “We cannot.”

“No, we cannot stop them, or no, we cannot do what must be done?” She approached me, laid a hand on my arm. Coldness spread down to my fingers. “Because you know we are well capable of stopping them.” I tore away.

“We have sworn an oath, sister. More than one.” 

“And who is left to hold us to these words?” Her tone became derisive. “The Master of Words is gone, the Council is no more, the Great Ones have turned their back to this globe.” Cold, harsh truth was the instrument she played to weave me a melody of bitterness. “They are all gone. We are alone. You and I. The last of our kind.”

“You speak of unleashing a power no one should possess.”

“I speak of showing those parasites their place.” I could hear the fury that had taken a hold of her.

“This is their place, sister,” I said softly, defeated. “We left them this globe, yielded to their dominance.”

“We fled.” Her voice cut like ice. “Like the cowards we are, we fled instead of confronting them.” She closed her eyes and inhaled audibly. I watched her chest heave. When she opened her eyes again, her voice was soft. “Why did you stay?” 

“I wanted to protect the beauty we had created. Show them how to make use of the infrastructure we left them… they could have lived in our cities…”

“But they came with fire and metal.”

“I do not mind the fire.” I gave her a wry smile. “But their use of it is crude and brutal. Their machinery allows them to do things we could not fathom.” 

“You tried to speak to them, did you not?” She sounded understanding.

“Yes.” 

“It did not work out, did it?”

“No, it did not,” I snapped, irritated. “You know that.” I cast a glance at the entrance to the labyrinth. Precious stones glinted in the sunlight of the rising star. The image of the mountain tree, the symbol of our city, sparkled in greens and golds. To think this could all lie in ruins…

“It is their godless blasphemy. When they still believed, they shunned our places… or revered them even, in some cases.” Hatred marred her beautiful face. “But now all they believe in is their machines and numbers. They have forgotten that they owe their life to Mother.” She knelt down and passed her hands over the long leaves of fern. “Unlike us, they were made by Mother; all they are, they owe to her, and how do they thank her? By scarring her face.” 

She picked up a fallen leaf, bigger than her arm. Crystals began to form along the rim. “They are a malady, Tsheshe.”

I did not find it in me to disagree with her. I turned my face towards the sun. “I can hear them,” I said quietly, more to myself than to her.

“So can I. Soon they will be here.” She stood and brushed down her translucent myriad-gown. “I will return.” She gave the gate a last glance. “You had better made up your mind by then, love.” She grinned at me. “For I will fight them with or without you.”

With that she vanished, leaving me alone with my thoughts and my despair.

I stared at the gate for another moment, then passed through it, neither the stone nor its energy enough to keep me out. I wandered the paths of the labyrinth without seeing them or their wonders, my mind clouded by darkness.

The labyrinth was not meant to keep out citizens or visitors. It took its name from the several hundred ways that led to the city proper, some no more than a trail, some so wide five men could walk them abreast. Each of the ways offered a sight of different marvel, crafted by our finest artists. There were few who had seen all the gardens, sculptures, air plays, drawings, glazes, or sense-arts the ways had to offer. I was one of them.

And while I appreciated hand- or mind-crafted beauty, nothing rivalled the beauty of Mother in my eyes. Only the danger and power of fire held more fascination for me.

I exited the labyrinth and my feet stopped without active thought. I returned to awareness and banned my gloomy thoughts to the abyss they had come from.

Despite my dubious inner state, I did not have to fake the smile that always came to my face when I beheld the City of Trees. I had lived here my whole life, yet I never tired of her awe-inspiring splendor.

The terrace I now stood on passed into a gently sloping canopy road that led down into a valley the city took up fully. It was almost perfectly round and ringed by Mountain Trees. They also made up the innermost circle, with smaller trees and houses built of their wood, all aglow now with the falling night.

The splendor of Iridien came not from gold or jewels, even though both had been used in building it, but rather from its nocturnally luminous trees. Once night fell, Iridien became a source of light and music. Or rather, it had been so before the decision to leave this globe to the coming lesser race.

I sat down heavily, buried my head in my hands. They would destroy this, I knew it in my heart. It had taken half a millennium to make Iridien into what it was now–it would take them about a week to tear it down and torch it to the ground, I had seen it happen to all the herald cities and towns. Silver Tnesh, Salazh-al-Dan with its sky-kissing, transparent spires, the blue Nebia’m of endless waterfalls, even the delicately beautiful air-dwelling of Aliann with its ethereal bridges… all lost, their history and treasures dragged off or simply destroyed.

The same fate would befall Iridien, home to the best and most powerful of all classes and professions. Never again would I walk amongst its shades, or rest in the boughs of the mountain trees, overlooking the sea of green, whispering in the gentle breeze, speaking of great deeds and wonders now no more than pale memories.

I transferred to the Home of Fire, and the Living Flames welcomed me with their heat, enveloped me like a long-lost son. Once these halls had been full of life, resounding with the shouts of the masters, the laughter of students, the whispering conversations of scholars… now all I heard was the soft hiss of the flames. And voices. My head jerked to the side, and hope flooded me. They had returned! I listened and soon realized that it was not the language of my people I heard.

Scorn replaced hope. They were here! Never mind how they had managed to enter Iridien so soon, it was obvious from the unrefined words that they had found a way.

I left the Home of Fire, my steps measured, my form its true nature. Should they see it and despair.

I walked along the main road, the iridescent glow of the smaller trees illuminating the way, and I half imagined I could hear the merry sounds of children playing in the streets, accompanied by the clear sound of flutes. Then a coarse laugh intercepted the vision, and I saw a group of dark clad men step out of a side-alley. They noticed me almost immediately and turned towards me with shouts of astonishment and fear, their weapons of metal and molten stone ready and pointed at me.

“Leave this place.” There were fifteen of them, only a cohort apparently. I would let them leave without further ado if they turned back now.

“Who are you?” one of them asked me. I understood them perfectly. I had learned their language in a day, mastered it in two. It was as simple as their minds and habits.

“I am the guardian of this place, and I ask you to leave.”

“We are here as cohort of the armies of the north, and in the name of the senate, we claim this valley as ours.” They did not fear me. I could not help but respect that, but their ill-mannered demeanour and their presumptuous claim awakened the fire in me.

“Go,” I said, keeping a grip on my temper. I had sworn an oath. I would not become an oath-breaker for them. “Go and nothing ill will befall you.”

“That is what he says.” The laughter that had started died instantaneously, and the group whirled around as one. “I have none of the reservations of my wise brother.”

They took a step back. Even from where I stood, I could feel the cold. Like me, Yiarse had cast off her feeble body’s prison and faced them in her form of true energy. I was once more reminded of why I had given in to her after the ceremony.

“Step back, witch!” one of the soldiers shouted.

“Or else?” Yiarse had always been a tease.

The clacking sound of one of their weapons being fired cut through the silence of the valley.

“That was a mistake,” Yiarse smiled, unmoved, unharmed.

She did not make any gestures, nor speak any words. She stood like the embodiment of frozen beauty, cold and terrible, ice-fingers spreading out from her, snapping at the invaders, spreading up their bodies, covering them, encasing them. It took all of ten seconds, then the main road of Iridien was blocked by ice statues.

“What have you done?” I asked, desperate.

“What you were too weak to do.” Yiarse moved closer, and the air between us began to change. I veiled my heat. She knocked the first statue on the head. “Quite empty.” With that, the statue exploded, the others following suit. I watched the fog of finest ice slowly settle on the black stones.

“You broke your oath.” My voice was stern, the same tone I had used when giving lessons to the initiates.

“Will you punish me?” She raised an eyebrow at me. “Please, my love, we both know you long to show them their boundaries just as much as I do.” 

I shook my head. “And do not call me love.”

“Denial is not one of the Good Traits, my little flame,” she answered cockily.

“Neither is uncalled violence,” I replied curtly.

“We are no longer in the Homes, Tsheshe. We are neither student nor master.” She stepped closer, veiling herself so as not to hurt me. “We are all that is left of our once proud race.” She traced my cheek. “We should act accordingly.”

I pulled away. “We are not the last. The last of the northern hemisphere, yes, but the Chosen five from the southern–”

“We are the last.” 

I stared at her.

“I can show you. Although it is not a pretty sight.”

I swallowed hard. “Show me,” I croaked.

And Yiarse obliged. Throwing up her hands, the scenery around us changed when she took me with her into her realm of memories.

From one moment to the next, we were no longer bathed in the light of Iridien but found ourselves dwarfed by the spiral towers of San Somem. The towers, some as big as whole villages, some as small as one person, were made of red marble, and used to be alight with torches, and lamps, and luminescent plants. Now they lay dead and dark, and wind howled ominously through the high ravines.

I turned my head and beheld Yiarse walking down the streets. She was reliving the memory, so I followed her silently, dread settling in my stomach.

Yiarse walked swiftly and quietly, her head turning this way and that as if she feared sudden attack.

Suddenly, she was gone, and the scenery changed in a whirl of colours when I followed her memory. The people of San Somem never set foot on the ground unless they had to, so it seemed sensible that she would seek for whatever it was she sought on the upper levels. The stormy wind was stronger up here, and I could see Yiarse struggle to keep moving forward.

After what seemed like hours of empty houses and lifeless streets, she reached the empty square that served San Somem as market place and hosting place for celebrations. The platform was suspended between five of the biggest towers, and despite the strong chains, forged from almost unbreakable moonsilver, it swayed slightly in the strong gusts. Yiarse’s steps slowed down and faltered. First, I did not know why, then I stepped to the side and with her body no longer blocking my view, shock punched me in the stomach so hard I had to gasp for air.

In the middle of the plaza stood five angular, wooden constructions. They were built of heavy wood, and while they had obviously slid from what must have been a half circle once, they had not fallen. To each, one of the Guardians was pinned by huge nails. I saw Yiarse fall to her knees and had to give it all my strength to not do the same.

I did not know these people, but they had occupied the same position we did. They had had almost the same schooling, the same powers. How was this possible? They were not even in their true forms, as if they had somehow been prevented from discarding their veils. I took a few steps closer. Their faces spoke of agony in their last moments, of torment like none of our race had endured since the terrible Dream Wars.

I broke down the same moment Yiarse screamed behind me, and a wave of burning cold washed over me, freezing everything in its path, and I was glad it was but a memory. The clear sound of glass exploding filled the empty city.

Then we were back in Iridien, welcomed by the warm glow of home. But I could not help the shivers and tears. Never before had I experienced such terror and hate, such hopeless despair. I was falling into a bottomless pit of darkness, fury and hatred two glowing strands in the pitch black, twisting and turning until they formed a treacherous ladder.

Yiarse was gripping my shoulder when I emerged, my eyes burning. She took one look at my face, and a slow smile spread on hers. It was the first time I noticed the spark of madness burning deep within her ice-blue eyes.

“I spent months after that moment screaming at night, afraid to close my eyes. I felt a fire burn me from within, a black flame that devoured all it encountered.” She took my face in her hands. “Welcome to vengeance,” she whispered and pressed her lips to mine.

Nothing is left now of the once proud city of Iridien-To-Desh; we have done our work well. All that is left to do is translate the labyrinth. Shall the brutes have the gate, maybe in time they will bring forth a generation that holds knowledge more sacred than power. Till then, our traps and the legend of our deed should hold.

I offer my hand to Yiarse. She takes it with a smile. The years of labour have left their traces on her. Her light is dimmed, her ice no longer hurts me. We have burnt together, brighter than anyone ever before. Now we pay the price.

We have wrenched open doors shut tightly, have gone where no one has dared enter since the dark days, have wrestled knowledge hidden and terrible from the claws of darkness itself, and we have emerged victorious. What we have secured is no more than a seed, but one day, someone might come to see the tree.

No ship to take us away. Not now, not ever.

I look at Yiarse. She nods.

We kiss one last time.