Kyle West - Extinction

We started walking. As we did, Anna placed a hand on the hilt of her katana, sheathed on her back. We entered the first of the trees, finding ourselves on a narrow path. Pink limbs overhung the path, forming a glowing tunnel. Alien blossoms spiraled from above, their scent sweet and sharp in the air. I could feel the trees’ collective sentience bearing down on us as we walked, as if they were watching us. Anna’s shoulders hunched. She could feel that weight, too.

The air was heavy with… something. I wanted to speak, but found my voice caught in my throat. The path twisted and turned, delving deeper into the cavern, deeper into the trees. The thickness of the xenoforest blocked any view of how deep this valley actually went.

The path snaked back and forth, plunging further and further down. The vegetation became more alien, more magnificent. Among the pink branches were now blazes of orange, of deep crimson, of yellow, of silver. The colors were incredibly bright, almost unreal in hue. Thin tree trunks rose in perfect spirals high toward the ceiling, forming arches before descending somewhere far distant in the xenoforest. Some tree trunks even fused together, two or three at a time, before forming an enormous, multicolored treetop.

Just when I was wondered if we should turn back, the path made a final bend, going from there in a straight line. Before us a massive tree grew from the fungus in a wide meadow, hemmed in by trees. The meadow was a near-perfect circle, and the trees on its rim leaned forward, as if bowing to the central tree. This tree had silver bark, and was probably larger than any tree that had ever existed on Earth. Its colossal trunk shot upward in a straight line — even at my distance, I had to crane my neck to see its height. Its treetop billowed near the cavern’s ceiling, casting silvery shade onto the meadow below. Sparkles lit the air, blossoms falling thick as rain.

Though beautiful, something about the scene just felt wrong. Again, the Wanderer wouldn’t have made us walk all this way just to see him.

And in the shadow of the tree, right against the bark, a small shape sat hunched. Anna drew her katana, its metallic ring violent in the still, blossom-strewn air. Time stood still as the trees waited, like a whip about to snap.

The form turned from the tree, slowly, revealing a monstrous face, long spindly limbs, and a drooping chin. I didn’t know what to call it, but I knew it was nothing like the Elekai . It wasn’t a crawler either, but I knew only Askala could have made a monster so hideous.

The monster’s mouth opened; from it emanated a long, high wail, which pierced the air, my skin, my bones. It was the most horrible sound I’d ever heard, paralyzing me to my spot. The thing advanced, its hideous call never abating. Its six scythed legs clawed into the xenofungus, piercing it like knives. From its long mouth shot twin fangs, dripping silvery liquid. Perhaps the sap from the tree. Or poison.

As if emerging from a dream, Anna changed her stance, holding her blade aloft and bracing herself with her back foot while the left leaned forward. I took out my gun.

The creature paused and ceased its wail.

Then it shot forward.

It sailed through the air, its horrible white eyes widening and its front legs extending, sharp as blades. As the monster came down, a strange pulse of energy sizzled through the air. The creature’s limbs went limp as it tumbled toward the ground. Anna and I stepped to either side, and the creature crashed between us, rolling on the fungus. Its body lay immobile.

Anna didn’t wait. She plunged her blade deep into the creature’s long, gray neck, where its chitin-like armor didn’t protect it. As the blade entered, the thing gave a sharp hiss. Anna twisted the blade and withdrew it, the metal covered in a purple slime so dark that it could almost be called black. The creature gave a final quiver before settling into stillness.

I turned back to the tree. Its side had been gnawed on, and from the puncture silvery sap spilled out, covering the fungus below.

“Where did that thing come from?” Anna asked.

I shook my head. The answers to that question were too horrifying to consider. Somehow, the Radaskim had penetrated the Elekai home. If there was one of those things, there could be more.

“We need to find the Wanderer,” I said.

We came close to the tree and circled around its wide trunk. On the other side lay a cliff, falling into darkness. We had come to the end of the forest. If the Wanderer wasn’t here…

Anna pointed. “There!”

A human body, covered in a light brown cloak, lay not far off, still. I ran forward, suppressing my desire to scream.

“No…”

I knelt beside the Wanderer, touching his shoulder.

Slowly, he stirred. He wasn’t dead. Not yet.

His eyes opened, completely white. It was hard to read them, but I could tell he was in pain. From the way he held his torso, it wasn’t hard to see why. Blood stained the front of his robe, soaking between his fingers.

“Alex…” he said, voice raspy. “They came. We fought them above, but they…”

The Wanderer coughed — that action must have sent him into horrible pain.

“Don’t speak,” I said. “We’ll get you to the lake.”

The Wander gave a slow, weak nod.

“Come on,” I said to Anna. “We need to carry him.”

She sheathed her katana, and helped me lift the Wanderer. He wasn’t too heavy. He closed his eyes, and though he continued to hold his torso, the red still leaked out. Such a wound would take hours to bleed out, but the poison might work faster. If we had arrived a little later, it might have been too late.

We all but ran. We found the path and ran up the twisting incline. The Wanderer’s eyes were shut, and his body had stiffened.

Our breaths came out heavy, and my heart pounded at the exertion. I pushed myself beyond what I thought possible. I kept my eye out for additional threats, but the forest was silent and empty. If there were more monsters, they weren’t here.

Five minutes later, we crested the final incline, finding the pink ichor of the lake glittering ahead. The dragons still lay there, bathing. Anna and I ran forward, the ichor accepting as we plunged into it.

The Wanderer fell face first, and immediately sunk below the liquid’s surface, as if the ichor itself recognized the need for haste. The Wanderer sunk further into the depths, falling downward and away. He was getting quite distant, now, veering toward the center of the pool. At last, he did reach the center, near the leg of a slumbering dragon. There, his movement ceased. His form showed wavy from the liquid in between.

Anna and I had watched in silence for about thirty seconds, when the liquid began to hollow out in the center, forming a depression in the surface of the pool. The depression deepened and widened, and an emanating wave pushed Anna and me back to the shoreline. The ichor continued to rise, even as the center of the pool emptied. Anna and I scrambled onshore. The Wanderer was down there. The center of the lake had emptied of all ichor, and it whirled, pushed back by some unseen force.

I could see the Wanderer standing there, his face shrouded within his cowl. He lifted one arm, as if in command. A line formed in the water between us and the Wanderer, and from that line, the water parted, forming a corridor.

The dragon nearby came out of his sleep, looking down at his master with white eyes. The dragon’s positioning had not changed; the ichor had remained around him, not wanting to disturb his rest.

The path from us to the Wanderer had been fully carved from the lake. Walls of pink ichor rose on either side, as if frozen in time. At the end of this narrow path, the Wanderer beckoned us to come forward with a single hand.