The Uplift Protocol: In the Beginning

Issue 3: Sy’ra’s Song

When I first heard the story of The Isle of Ikaris Solundra I thought it was merely a fairy tale. As the humans say. The truth, as with most things, went far deeper. –J’ino

My mind was already lost. Trapped within Pandora’s Box. With the Body so far away. My son only knew a kernel of that story.—Matarn

The Nexus was the shining jewel of the Scholar Imperium. We fancied ourselves the everlasting standard for knowledge and light. Unity reminded us of our mortality. –Sy’ra

Within each cycle, there is a moment of clarity. To save her husband and child, Sy’ra would have to give herself over to the enemy. To cloud their access to the Dreaming. They had no idea how much she knew. Or how she would use this knowledge. In the end, she saved Doc’s soul. Protecting those that I could not. –Sleeping in Starlight, a memoir of the 23rd century (vol 3)

The Nexus

Scholar Shield World

Exodus (Time of Mourning)

Sy’ra faced Aether. Her voice was quiet in the din of activity. More souls fleeing Unity were crossing over into Scholar dominated territory. Ahead of the flood. “What happened to my husband? Was the spear able to wound it at least?”

She clutched her prayer beads. The Dreaming was silent.

Wyhala had fallen.

The epicenter of Scholar might and civilization.

All they had now was each other. Cast adrift in the cosmic sea.

The entire universe was unraveling. She thought of her city. Its broken shell blasted upon a rocky shore and weeped. A small white flame formed within her mind’s eye. Hope everlasting. A thread of the True Sight!

Aether replied, “His mind was taken. Pandora had one of our training spheres. She….”

The J’kua fell silent. His face ashen.

Sy’ra stood. A few remaining O’loi guards raised their spears. “Danger?”

The question was valid. They had only recently been gifted to the stars. Only to see the consumption of evil cascading throughout known space. The star metal coiled across their shoulders. Their features were hidden behind black visors. A rumble vibrated throughout the shield world as it prepped to jump to another system. The red coiling arms of Unity trailing in their wake.

*****

Set unfurled his blackened wings. White Owls ravaged the corpses benieth his feed. A bright speck of blue hung in the sky. The Scholar Shield world. Within its many layers lived the cowards fleeing from his might. He held his black blade to the ruinous crimson skies. “Matarn failed!” His glee was undeniable. “Lost to the cosmos! The greatest…” He spat upon the boiling ground. Bits of lava sparking upwards.

“….champion of a failed people!” Long knotted digits dug into his forearm. The ravaged face of Nath. She formed the sigils. Pouring her blood onto the defiled corpses.

She cooed, “Go. Take the flesh. Tell us where they flee!” White Owls burst forth from the bodies. Uncoiling their long white limbs from the chest cavities of the victims. Those fallen Scholar defenders. One black beak snapped at the fleeing Green Defender belt. It ducked and weaved. Set let it go. One more Defender of the Light to break in the future. He pulled out a blood specked sphere. In its ghostly pale light, a world formed.

“Ahhh. A new turn of events.” The primitives he had found.

When their world was new he polluted their waters with forbidden powers. Telepathy, telematics. Matter manipulation. Hidden gifts that the Weave guarded. Never giving anyone access. They were just now touching the outer reaches of the Dreaming. Their eyes alight with wonder.

Greed. Ambition.

Set watched as they formed Tribes. He would use them to cripple the Scholars further.

A particularly nasty specimen with crimson eyes waged a blood feud against everyone.

How quaint. Killing each other with bits of metal and stone.

*****

H’tal of the First Light crouched. His blue blade at the ready. It was made of sky metal. Harder than any found on the surface of Typha. Many clans fought each other to a standstill to grab this precious metal. A few could even manipulate and forge it with a mere touch.

His mate muttered, >>We see them. The dark ones mass along the riverside. What shall we do?<<

He motioned to the rest of his war party. >>Pull back. This is not the place for scouts.<<

This was as much as she could do for the moment.

Her mental caress bolstered him. >>We will ready the protections of Light!<<

The Lady of Light, her face covered in pure silver flame, had mentioned this sickness. Ayeer valley.

Long life. Ayeer.

The word meant wall. But not just any wall.

Within the Dreaming, it was said Ayeer was the mirror wall into the soul.

He gathered his fellow Light Sages around the outcropping.

The air stank of dried blood.

>>Now!<<

The attack force of 1000 men thundered down the hillside. Their furs were thrown off to reveal bodies covered in markings. Chalky white and blue. H’tal shouted, “URRADEN!” The word for traitor. The one who had perverted the ways of the Light.

The crimson eyes of corruption.

H’tal brought his sword down upon the enemy. It's bright blue surface darkening as it absorbed the hexes thrown around the battlefield. His arms and chest were soaked with the crimson liquid of the fallen. All acolytes to a dark and unforgiving serpent.

He brought his blade down a final time.

Urraden’s head rolling down the pristine stone steps.

*****

Set frowned. “What are you playing at Silver cow?”

The Weave thought itself special. Breaking up into the form of man and woman.

To show reverence to the Highest.

Set luxuriated in the shouts of battle. The screams. The prayers.

That planet had potential. It was unfortunate that his proxy had been disconnected. Its head rolling around with a rather fatal neck injury. He smirked. “I'll make sure the son has an easier time of it!”

The Nexus

Scholar Shield World

The Space Between

Sy’ra gazed out at the endless black. No stars existed here.

The gray radiance in the distance was the Ouroborous. The gate between Universes. To ones that would exist, the ones that did, alongside the ones who were merely a shade of their former glory. Aether stood beside her. “I will have to relink with the Ur.” Di’axi was already rising in the ranks. One of science and warfare. All driven to find his father. The Laylines had been broken. So went the magical avenues of old. She pressed her beads to her lips.

I must have faith.

Di’axi materialized next to her, “I have found it!” The joy was unmistakable.

Sy’ra reached out to rest a palm against his chest. His heart thudded rapidly.

Aether, “What would that be?”

Di’axi’s gaze turned towards the viewport. “Ikaris. What was made in the reflection of the Highest!” The disquiet within Sy’ra grew. She retorted, “There are some places we shouldn’t disturb. That is one of them!”

Her son nodded, “I know mother. Yet everything in me says that place can find father!”

Aether said, “I will go with Di’axi.”

Sy’ra crossed her arms.

Her voice sharp, “I will join you. He is my husband. The beads do not lie.”

Aether shot a sidelong glance at Sy’ra. “I do not think it wise…”

Di’axi added, “We must bring her. Legend says the Dreaming was birthed there.”

The white flame grew within her. A purple gem sparkling at its center. The first and the last. The Twins of a Forgone Age. She knew what would be asked. It was the only way she could save her family and the future. The shield world would remain within the protection of the In-Between.

Pale crimson eyes flashed within her mind.

Corruption had found its way to the corridors of the Old World.

As they phased down to the surface of Ikaris, a world of artificial beauty greeted them. Its soaring crystal buildings were as quiet as a tomb. Their footsteps were the only sound for miles. Di’axi made a series of warding gestures.

“We are not alone.” Even though he whispered the words it was as if a hammer fell.

The crystals around them keened.

White feathers fell to the earth.

Beady black eyes drank in the light.

From profane beaks, “Ours now.”

Tarkanan

Central Housing Ring

Sy’ra awoke to the semi darkness.

Lanis was seated next to her. Both of them retreating to other places. The distant screams reverberated. This place was a shambling corpse that didn’t realize it was dead. The Scholar woman rested a hand on Lorain’s shoulder. “Did you sleep?” The human’s green eyes had dark circles. Her lips were far too pale. Sy’ra removed her outer robe. Its yellow and blue exterior was a better alternative to whatever the Urraden’s could provide. Doc mumbled, “I don’t want to dream here.”

The Scholar woman folded it so the human could use it as a proper pillow.

Sy’ra leaned in. The words melding into Lorain’s subconscious thoughts.

Sleep. I will guard the gateways. That is my domain. That is my gift. That is my promise.

That was what Ikaris had taught her.

They fed off doubt. Fear. Terror. The baser part of nature.

Lorain would have to be whole before the arrival of the end.

As Doc’s head hit the pillow the world faded into a gentle mist.

The stars were a cold fire in the heavens.

*****

The Silver Lady reached out. “Did you think we’d forget you?”

Doc whirled. Her voice shook with repressed fury, “Why was Sy’ra stuck in that place for so long?”

The Void Man said, “Who said she was the prisoner?”

Lorain watched as a distant memory played out.

Across a place called Ikaris.