Aeon Legion: Labyrinth (47 page)

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Authors: J.P. Beaubien

BOOK: Aeon Legion: Labyrinth
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The interior was plain save
for a three dimensioned holographic model that appeared above a glass
floor. Around it stood three women each garbed in ornate pearl
colored robes edged in gold that suggested a position of authority or
importance. The young women appeared a few years older than Terra
with the familiar shade of silver in their long hair, but what really
looked odd to Terra were their headpieces.

Their strange crowns shimmered
in pearl white metal with the front extending down in a solid metal
plate that completely covered their eyes, like a masquerade mask with
no eye holes. Above the ears was a pair of glowing, convex glass orbs
which formed the base of swept antennas.

One of the women turned her
head towards Lycus as though she could see just fine through the
metal plate. “Praetor Lycus Cerberus,” she said in an ethereal
tone. The Sybil's tone reminded Terra of Delphia. The Sybil then
waved her hand in the air. Various holograms of mechanical components
appeared in her hand's wake. “Precognition told us of your arrival,
but not your purpose.”

Lycus's expression became
stoic. “I apologize, Sybil Nona. An event has come to my attention
that requires your precognition.”

The second Sybil turned to
Lycus. “It is most odd. A Qadar like yourself should be more
visible to us. Regardless, there are more meetings destined for
today.”

Lycus nodded. “Is there a
tiro you wish for me to send to you, Sybil Decima?”

Decima nodded before turning
back to the model. She took the holographic parts Nona had made and
arranged them into a projection of a new aeon edged weapon. “Could
you bring us the tiro called Hikari Urashima next? We wish to speak
with her before she undertakes the Labyrinth. We think she may be a
Qadar as well.”

Lycus clasped his hands behind
his back. “As you wish.”

The third Sybil examined the
projection of the aeon edge while shaking her head. “This one will
not do. It is destined for a failed guardian who has endured
betrayal. While honorable, he will likely not survive the Labyrinth,”
she said before waiving her hand through the holographic model. It
dissipated before she turned to Lycus. “Why have you come here,
Cerberus?”

Lycus pressed his lips
together. “I told you, Sybil Morta, I don't like to be called that
anymore.”

Morta faced Lycus. “You once
so proudly took your aeon edge's name as your own. I do wish you
would adopt it, at least in part, as Silverwind did. You are Qadar
after all. Fated.”

Lycus's clinched his fists.
“Silverwind has come to terms with her past. Respectfully Sybil, my
past is my own business.”

“Then what business do you
have for the Sybil of the Moirai?” Morta asked.

Lycus gestured to Terra. “I
wish for you to give this tiro an omen and to read her. I wish to
know if she broke into the Archives.”

Morta frowned. “What tiro?”

The other two Sybil glanced
around as if searching for someone else. Terra now doubted they could
see anything from behind those masks as she clearly stood only a few
paces in front of them. After a moment, she cleared her throat and
stepped forward. “Tiro Terra Mason,” Terra said, wondering how to
address them.

Nona scowled. She leaned in
closer as though trying to focus on Terra. Then she pulled back as
her expression soured. “You brought us a null? No wonder our
precognition could not foresee your purpose.”

Decima turned to Lycus. “Is
this an insult, Cerberus?”

Lycus remained expressionless.
“Not at all. I simply need the truth.”

The Sybil faced one another
and stood silent for a long moment. Terra wondered if she should go
when they turned towards Lycus.

“Very well, Cerberus,”
Morta said. “We shall give you your omen and a reading. Though I
cannot promise much accuracy, at least when a null is concerned.”

Nona stared at Terra. “I see
nothing of importance.”

“Yes,” Decima added. “This
one has no great destiny.”

“Destiny?” Terra asked,
confused and a little annoyed. “You can see a person's destiny?”

“We are Sybil,” Morta said
in a commanding tone. “We do not see as you. We see Time itself in
all it's endless variations. The Grand Design; Time's plan for
humanity's future. Only we can see it in all of its beauty and
wonder.”

“We can even see part of
your memories,” Decima said. “There is little of interest in your
memories. No great tragedy. No great triumphs save for making it so
far in the Academy. I do not see that she has been in the Archives,
Cerberus. She is innocent of that crime.”

“She is like the opposite of
Kairos,” Nona said while inspecting Terra like she was a nasty
stain on a new rug.

Terra raised an eyebrow. “Why
was Kairos so special?”

There was a moment of silence.

“Kairos was the light in the
dark. Qadar.” Nona whispered.

“She was Qadar; a child of
fate. The master of thought and memory,” Decima added.

Morta
stepped forward. “We see thought and memory. We see fate and
destiny. Most destinies are dim like distant stars. However, some are
bright burning stars like Silverwind or Cerberus. We call them
Qadar
.
Some are nulls like yourself who do not shine at all, for their link
with fate is weak at best. Kairos was like the burning sun at noon,
beyond even the greatest of the Qadar.”

Nona smiled as though
recalling a fond memory. “We foresaw her coming when a bright light
of the Beginning of Time flared, sending out a shard of itself into
Time.”

Morta frowned. “It coincided
with a creeping shadow from the End of Time. We knew that the shadow
would soon threaten Saturn City.”

Decima nodded. “When
Silverwind first brought Kairos to us, we could tell she was a
special person. Even then we saw the workings of destiny. It wasn’t
long after Kairos became part of the Legion that the first of the
Faceless began devouring Time. She was a child of prophecy. The one
destined to save the city and all Time.”

“You are not her,” Morta
said. “You will never be her. You have no fate. You have no
destiny. You are a null. You will not make it through the final
trial. That is clear to us.”

Terra glared at the Sybil.
“How can you know that?”

“Simple,” Morta said while
standing in front of Terra. “We see an aeon edge in each
legionnaire's future. We use this vision to forge an aeon edge upon
completion of their training. There is no new blade in your future.
You have no part in the Grand Design.”

“Now get out,” they all
said in unison and turned their backs to Terra.

Morta then turned to Lycus.
“Are you satisfied, Cerberus?”

Lycus bowed. “Thank you,
Sybil. That was all I needed know.”

Lycus and Terra turned to
leave.

“Wait,” Decima said,
staring at Terra.

The other two Sybil looked at
Decima.

Decima shook her head. “No.
It was nothing. For a moment, I thought I almost saw something in her
memories. A wind of silver I think. It is just the null's oddity.”

They turned their backs to
Terra before she and Lycus left the room.

As soon as the doors faded
back in Terra crossed her arms while lifting her chin. “Well that
was a lousy free psychic reading. Why was it necessary for me to meet
those people again?”

Lycus's stare turned cold.
“You may be innocent of breaking into the Archives, but do not
antagonize me, Tiro Mason.”

Terra stiffened. “Sorry,
praetor, but I get testy when I am brought before people who
constantly insult me.”

Lycus looked back to the solid
fadedoors. “The Sybil are critical to the Aeon Legion's daily
operations, but they dislike working with nulls since they can't see
them very well. While their precognition is essential to the Aeon
Legion, they have been wrong before. Regardless, now I have to
investigate who stole your shieldwatch identity and broke into the
Archives. I suppose I should have known better. There was no way you
could have accessed that information even with your Academy pass.
They would have to have a singularity AI in order to do that.”

“What's a null?”

Lycus grinned, a hint of his
wolfish snarl hidden in it. “Why, Tiro Mason, a null is someone who
is unimportant. Someone who has no great effect on history. Nulls are
not even a ripple in a pond, unlike great historical figures who are
like tidal waves through Time. We call these great figures Qadar. I
suppose your culture would call them chosen ones. All of Silverwind's
squires have been Qadar, until she chose you.”

“Is that what this is about?
Are you trying to prove Alya wrong?”

Lycus's grinned faded. “No.
How Silverwind selects her squires is the sole thing on which we
agree. Everyone believes that Alya Silverwind has a special
connection with fate that allows her to find talented squires. I know
the truth though. She does it all on a whim. Nothing more. Her only
guide is her instincts and they always lead her to squires with one
special trait. One trait I look for above all else.”

“What's that?”

Lycus turned to go, but
stopped to glance back at Terra. “The desire to be a hero.”


After Terra's meeting with the
Sybil, she found Zaid again. The centurions had told them to gather
in an open room with a large fadedoor ahead. As the hour of the
Labyrinth drew near, more tirones gathered. Hikari and Roland joined
them as well after their meetings with the Sybil. Neither spoke of
what their meeting was like, though Terra could tell both Roland and
Hikari had returned with nervous expressions.

Terra looked around to the
other tirones. Most were now present as the Labyrinth was less than
an hour away. No one spoke and they would often glance toward the
fadedoors ahead. She looked that way as well. She knew that soon she
would enter the Labyrinth. The thought made her nauseous.

Terra looked at her
shieldwatch display again. Fifteen minutes. When the centurions
appeared, the tirones moved into formation by instinct. One centurion
approached the fadedoor and touched his shieldwatch face. The large
door faded.

The vanishing door revealed
the open expanse under the city with the Edge below. Above them
loomed the metal base of the underside of the city. Before the
tirones lay a large metal runway with a series of fadelines. Those
fadelines ended at the edge of the metal overlook. Terra wondered why
the fadelines ended without connecting to anything. Before them was
only the runway and the Edge below.

“Attention!” Lycus barked
as he entered.

The tirones snapped to
attention.

Lycus paced up and down the
line of tirones. He slapped Roland in the stomach. “Stand up
straighter,” he said before moving down the line. “Keep your
temper in check,” he said to Hikari as he glared. He then passed by
Terra. “Don't do anything stupid,” he said in a low tone. Lycus
then stood aside and an entourage of people entered.

Several legionnaires entered
the room all in their dress uniforms. Terra recognized Strategos
Orion among them. They then stood at attention themselves. Lycus
saluted as an older man entered.

“At ease,” the older man
said. His warm smile and soothing voice still carried a commanding
edge. “No need to be so formal, Lycus.”

Although he wore the standard
dress uniform, a white tunic edged in blue over a form fitting suit
identical to Terra's training uniform, his possessed far more
decoration. A plain looking aeon edge hung at his belt. Of the man's
numerous medals and emblems, Terra recognized a complex insignia on
the upper arms of his uniform; three crescents, a circle, and a three
long triangles pointing outward. Terra's eyes widened. She knew that
insignia. Only one man held that rank, the highest in all the Aeon
Legion.

“Consul Prometheus,” Lycus
said, lowering his salute. “I am rather surprised you are
inspecting the tirones personally.”

Prometheus smiled. “I enjoy
occasionally seeing how the Academy is faring.”

Lycus stiffened. “There is
no need to waste your time inspecting them, consul.”

Prometheus dismissed the
protest with a wave. “Don't worry, Lycus. It's been rather slow as
of late. Besides, I hear there are many talented tirones this year. I
am eager to see their performances.”

Prometheus moved down the
line. He spoke with each tiro before moving on to the next. Then he
came to Zaid.

Zaid saluted.

Prometheus nodded. “The
Mamluks?”

Zaid looked at Prometheus with
shock. “Yes. I am a veteran of Ain Jalut.”

Prometheus nodded.
“Impressive. The battle that routed the Mongols. No easy task.”

Roland saluted as Prometheus
walked to him next.

Prometheus inspected him. “You
can always tell the bearing of a knight.”

Roland nodded. “Yes,
consul.”

Prometheus smiled. “I'm
happy we could at least help put you back together a little. I know
your journey through the Academy must have been difficult so soon
after your pilgrimage.”

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