Chapter 1433 (2/2)

Due to the horrible betrayal of the Nether people, we were stripped of that freedom and forced to leave Eden. Yet now with the perspective of age, I see how strange the arrangement became. The two energy races settled on a single, extremely small world. The Aether below the Tower to Heaven in Hallohm and the Nether next to Sinkhole, in the badlands. We stayed and we fought, generation after generation.

There was always a certain cold war going on, where the people of Aether and Nether would periodically meet and clash. People might die in combat, but we would carefully gather their life energy and create more children while mourning their abrupt passing.

Yystrix released another long breath. But did we ever think to leave? Of course not. But perhaps… perhaps there was something special about those locations for our people.

Either way, the constant presence of the Nether pushed most people into frantically played wargames. This was our only real hobby, as well as training for combat. I found it… less than compelling. Our historian was often disappointed in my lack of interest, but… I was a Last. For every one last that innovated for the Aether beings… a hundred disappointed. This just cemented in his mind that I was a placeholder; a cup to hold life energy until I grew tired of life and gave myself to form children.

Gradually, as Yystrix was speaking, the details of the game below them came into sharper focus. Specifically, a certain piece simply shaped like a pillar became so clear that Randidly vaguely sensed image energy emanating off of it. Of course, this wasn’t a real phenomenon, but much more likely the effect of how much importance a powerful individual like Yystrix placed on the piece in her own memory.

A wildfire of meaning raged around that pillar of orange stone as it sat in one of the small squares on the chessboard. Randidly could see the thousands of connections that spread outward, moments in the future that Yystrix would someday attribute to this pillar at this moment. The memory around Randidly began to shudder as it tried to withstand that heavy meaning.

The blue figure gestured and a blurry piece lifted off the ground, floated forward, and crashed into the side of the pillar. The pillar swayed and then toppled over, hitting the ground and cracking into several pieces. Even as the two figures spoke to each other with blurry words that Randidly couldn’t understand, he followed Yystrix's gaze. Her eyes were locked onto the shattered pillar, looking at the glittery silver-grey ore revealed in the heart of the pillar. The shaking of the memory grew worse.

Crack.

I was quite inspired by that destruction. The memory around them physically shattered, and suddenly Randidly (who watching through Yystrix) was back within the tower. At this point in time, she was slightly older and living now on the 93rd floor of this slightly creepy building One of her rooms had been converted into a workshop and Randidly saw a blurry figure filled with red light waiting expectantly while Yystrix was carving a piece for him. For the first time in my life, I saw how something that was less than whole could be beautiful. And as it turned out, the rest of my people shared that aesthetic.

Essentially, every one of the 511 other individuals living in the tower wanted to have me carve their wargame pieces. The historian wanted an official set for the Grand Arena, which was where the yearly wargame tournaments was fought. And then, as though as an afterthought, the priest mentioned that his son wanted to commission some pieces as well. For a wargame rule ‘variant’.

The vision in front of Randidly shifted. Yystrix was walking along what appeared to be a dried river bed with high stone walls on either side of her. As far as Randidly could tell, everything in the area around the Tower to Heaven was some variation of red or orange. Even the clouds were maroon. The furthest thing was the brown, scrubby plants, but his overall impression was that this was a barren land filled with swirling dust.

If not for the light blue sword of the tower thrust into this ground, it would be an entirely dead place.

After a few more minutes of walking, Yystrix walked around a bend and into a memory that was perfectly clear. Again, this was a place heavy with the image of what was to come. Whereas the pillar had raged with wild flames, this memory was cold and sticky, like the scales of a tuna pulled out of the sea. There was something strangely claustrophobic to the pulses of images in the surrounding air.

And standing in a particularly flat area of the river bed of the memory, surrounded by misshapen lumps of stone, was an individual. As opposed to the bright colors of most of the Aether people that Randidly had seen, this one stood out. His light was monochrome; he was filled with waves of white and grey, interspersed with thin lines of black.

The figure walked forward. “Hello, I’m Elhume. It’s nice to meet you.”

The area around these two rapidly compressed, as though a wrathful god was squeezing the edges of the memory and crumpling it into a ball. The body of that cold tuna stretch and contort into a python that squeezed that moment to a pulp. The orange highlands and the dusty river bed and the maroon clouds and even the Tower to Heaven were folded over, drawn and warped by the weight of this meeting.

Elhume spoke about the new rules he wanted to make for the wargame, but to Yystrix, those words were blurry. Instead, she was mesmerized by the black arcs that spun in his chest as he spoke. They were only the slightest portion of his light, but they caught the eye. They rippled like colored ink dropped into water. They seemed to dance as he spoke.

The surrounding rumbling grew louder as the fist that squeezed this memory tightened. The chill intensified. Randidly couldn’t help but feel apprehensive as he felt the destructive power of the image that was annihilating this place. But finally, Elhume’s words came back into focus. “...add some spice to the wargames, don’t you think? By the way… where do you get your inspiration for your carvings? They really are something.”

Yystrix shrugged. “I guess… sometimes you need to take something away to make it beautiful.”

If only I hadn’t told him that, Yystrix continued to exhale, her existence continuing to dwindle.