Alara Unbroken - Doug Beyer [111]
Bolas let loose a roar that tore the firmament ragged, reverberating through all of existence. Ajani felt pain wrack his body for the duration of the roar. That’s it, he thought. The is the end of my life, and worse: the end of all life on my world. Bolas is done with our plane. He’ll crumple Alara into dust, and destroy everyone on it.
The dragon ascended out of the maelstrom slowly, surging with power. The winds slackened, and Ajani saw that as Bolas moved out of the nucleus, the energy there diminished rapidly. The glow of power followed Bolas and then disappeared into him, leeched away by his body. All that was left behind was a tiny sun-ball floating above the spiral depression in the land, a meek swirl of energy no bigger than Ajani was tall. Bolas had almost absorbed it all.
The dragon looked down at Ajani, his expression inscrutable. Was he murderous or benevolent? Did he even have emotions, or just an intelligence so vast that his mind operated solely in pure thought?
Bolas spoke, and his voice was everywhere at once. “I fear nothing.”
“Don’t do it, Bolas,” shouted Ajani up at the dragon god. “Just go. You’ve done enough damage here.”
“Why should I not? It’s a disgrace now, a ruin bereft of value.”
“No. It’s my world.”
With a mighty leap, Ajani dived into what remained of the maelstrom. It enveloped him, suspending him in the air, filling him with a rush of mana that overloaded his senses.
With even a fraction of the power of the maelstrom, Ajani was overwhelmed. He couldn’t believe Bolas had held any more than that—he felt the efforts of thousands of mages all at once, channeling their magics at one another, feeding him with their power.
Ajani closed his physical eyes, and his inner one opened.
AJANI GOLDMANE
The world was stark and featureless: a white void.
“Ajani,” said his brother’s voice.
He turned. Before him stood Jazal: silver-furred, kind-faced, and alive, at least in spirit. Ajani realized that their hands were clasped together.
“Jazal, I’ve been searching,” said Ajani.
“I know.”
“I … I can’t avenge you. I’m sorry. The real killer—the being ultimately responsible for your death—he’s out there. He’s far more powerful than me.”
“I know.”
“And Zaliki—she was misled. It wasn’t her fault. She loves you.”
“I know. It’s all right, Ajani.”
“I’m sorry I failed you.”
“Is that what you’ve done?”
“Yes. It was all too big for me. The murder, the five worlds, the multiverse—everything was bigger than I imagined. It was too much for me to handle.”
“That’s the first thing you have to learn before you can rise to accomplish grander things.”
“But that’ll never happen. It’s over. He won. I didn’t catch on in time to stop him—his plans are complete. He gained the power he sought. There’s no way I can put you to rest—and even worse, our world, all of Alara, is about to be used up and tossed aside.”
“You’re still here, aren’t you? You haven’t given up. If you’re still committed to what must be done, then there’s still a chance. Listen.”
“I’m listening.”
“No, really listen. You’re standing in the core of Alara, its beating heart. This is what I was searching for, the possibility that there was something underneath all the lies of Marisi and his master. This is it, this core of mana, composed of threads of lives from every corner of Alara. It’s what Bolas wanted to feed on, and what you have the opportunity to learn from. So listen.”
“I hear … echoes.”
“Yes. What does it mean, Ajani? What are they telling you?”
“I can almost hear them …”
Ajani felt Jazal’s hands slipping away.
“Jazal? Wait! Don’t go!”
“What are they telling you, Ajani?” His face, and his voice, were growing fainter, vanishing into the white nothingness. Even as Ajani reached for him, he faded.
“Jazal!”
THE MAELSTROM
Bolas laughed. “This won’t do it, little walker. You can’t match me by feeding on my scraps. Even all the mages in this world couldn’t stop me.”
“Maybe not,” said Ajani. “But one thing can.”
The voices of every spellcaster in Alara spoke to Ajani at once. Their near-limitless knowledge,