PART TWENTY-FOUR

Pierce hated the merciless desert sun. Even now within the cool confines of the car, it was as if he could feel its baking presence right outside the window of the dark sedan, surrounding it, lying in wait for them.

If he'd had his choice, he would have relocated his facility to another cooler, more hospitable climate. But it had been too much of a danger to move his test subjects. Their best security methods had been breached by the dark-haired boy, and now they were all at large. He cursed his men's ineptitude. They wouldn't make any more mistakes. This mission was going to be flawless, or he'd have their heads.

He would kill the quiet one himself. He was sick to death of having to look at his accusing gaze. His eyes judged him, though he barely had ever said a word out loud. He had no hesitation in torturing them They might look human, but they were something inherently more dangerous than what they appeared to be. One of their kind had killed his father with no mercy, so he felt he was justified in his lack of mercy toward them.

The Parker girl would be next on his list, once he made sure she was not with child. Bile rose in his throat at the thought that she could feel anything for a creature like that. It was disgusting, and the thought of any human girl coupling with something so mutated made him sick. She deserved to die. If she were pregnant, she wouldn't last long after the delivery. Just long enough to measure the effects of the delivery on her body, if she survived it.

He would keep the other two in captivity. He would send them a message with the death of the other one. That message would be delivered with great pleasure, he thought to himself. He would not be made a fool of. The dark-haired one would be made an example of.

Ahead of them the desert road shimmered. They were much closer than he'd anticipated. They'd been lucky with the tip that was called in.

He'd thought that they'd be in hiding, but he was sure they'd moved to another state by now. He'd put out descriptions and photos to the police in the surrounding states, letting them know that the three plus the girl were wanted for questioning for their possible involvement in a robbery. He described them as highly dangerous and not to be approached. If they were spotted, they were to call him immediately. But it appeared that he needn't have bothered. They never left the state, or the county for that matter.

A cruel smile flitted across his face. Yes, he would wipe that accusing look right of the dark one's face when he tortured the traitorous girl, while the thing watched.

"Jesus!" the driver said suddenly and swerved.

Pierce was thrown against the side door with a grunt, as the driver tried to maintain control of the vehicle.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Pierce shouted angrily, as the car swerved to the other side of the road.

"It's not me! I can't control the car!" the driver said, trying to steady the steering wheel. Again the car swerved back onto the right side of the road.

"Cut the shit!" Pierce said, planting his hands on the dash. Just as he did, the wheel turned all the way to the right, sending the car into a tailspin.

The driver's face was strained with the effort to pull the car out of the spin. Pierce watched in horror as the car headed straight for the vehicle behind them.

"Cut the wheel man!" he screamed, but it was already too late.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw two figures standing at the side of the road that hadn't been there a moment before.

His eyes processed them in the second or two before the impact. Everything seemed to move in slow motion as his brain tried to process what he was seeing. Covered in muslin, they looked like some kind of mutant mummies. What seemed to be their arms appeared to be shorter than human arms, though their figures were humanoid in appearance. But when one of them lifted the muslin wrapped around its head to reveal its face, Pierce screamed. Its eyes were cold and calculating; devoid of any emotion. Its hand was raised toward the cars as they came up on it.

In the next instant the car made contact with the vehicle that was behind it, sending both cars careening off the road in with a violent surge.

Pierce was jolted out of hit seat as the car skidded sideways again toward the sedan they'd just hit. Vaguely, he heard the squeal of other tires on the pavement and realized that the other cars following them were meeting the same fate.

With a bone-crunching crash, the car slammed sideways into the other sedan, and his body was again thrown toward the door, where his head cracked violently against the passenger window, shattering the glass.

The car stilled with a final shudder. For a moment, he saw nothing but a blurred landscape, and then everything went black.

*%*%*%*%*%*%*%

The first thing he became aware of was a deep stabbing pain in his head. Slowly he opened his eyes, trying to adjust to the blurry vision he was seeing. He squinted and put his hand to the side of his head, where he felt a slight stickiness in his hair. Blood.

He looked down to see his right pant leg shredded, blood seeping through. He'd probably caught it on the cup holder that was attached to the glove compartment.

He was confused for a moment, not remembering the events that led to his disorientation. What had happened?

He turned his head to the left and saw the driver slumped against the wheel.

Then it all came rushing back to him. The monsters that had been on the side of the road. They'd caused this. But there were only two of them. Where was the third, and the girl?

He hadn't known their true form, assuming that it was human, but that was obviously not the case, judging by what he'd seen. In that moment, he realized what a vulnerable position he was in. They would kill him. It was certain. He had to get out of the car and away from the area, fast.

He surveyed the scene outside his window. It seemed his car, the one behind his and one other which had flipped on its roof had sustained the most damage. The other three sedans sat silently, but appeared to have no exterior damage. But where were his men?

He didn't dare try to open the door, afraid it would catch the attention of the monsters that were surely in the vicinity, waiting.

He nudged the driver to see if he was awake, and the man fell sideways, unconscious, possibly dead.

No matter. It was every man for himself. He'd learned that a long time ago.

Glancing around once more to make sure that he could slip out of the car unnoticed, he cautiously stuck his head out the window. Pushing his body out of the seat, he kept his head low and slid out of the window to the ground with a muffled thump against the sand. He winced as he felt his hand sliced by the tiny pieces of shattered glass from the widow, but did not utter a word. His life depended on it.

He drew his gun from its holster under his jacket and crawled to the front of the car, pausing. The smell of anti-freeze was strong, and it made his eyes sting. He could hear the hiss of the radiator as it let out boiling hot water into the sand.

Keeping low to the ground, he peered under the front of the car, looking for feet. He saw nothing, no sign of life near any of the five cars. Where were they? And where were his men?

He knew one thing. He had to get to one of the other undamaged cars to make his escape. It was too quiet, and he knew that wasn't going to last long.

His head was pounding, and his knee felt as if it were filled with razor blades. For a moment, he felt a wave of nausea take over, threatening to bring him down.

He swallowed and tried to get his body under control. A few seconds later, it passed.

With new purpose, he crawled around the car, ioring the white-hot agony of sand embedding itself in his torn flesh.

Glancing around one more time he pulled his feet under his body until he was in a crouch. The nearest undamaged car was about 500 yards away, and in between it and the spot he was hidden, was an open area where he was sure to be vulnerable.

He had no other choice. He had to make a run for it.

Positioning his gun properly and taking a deep breath to try to calm his pounding heart, he made a dash for the car.

For a few seconds he was sure he was going to make it, until he heard a hiss behind him, and unearthly sound filled with evil. He turned his head as he ran, and his eyes widened as he realized one of them was right behind him, close enough to reach out, seeming to glide over the sand with unhuman speed.

A roar, a mix of terror and anger exploded from his mouth as he ran faster. Turning his head forward again, his foot connected with something on the ground, and he fell face-first into the sand. Never stilling he continued to crawl toward the car in desperation.

"Leave me alone, you mutherfucker!" he growled as he turned again and pointed the gun where the figure had been a moment ago.

It had vanished.

"What the fuck?" he half whined and turned forward again to close the distance between himself and the car.

He froze.

In front of his eyes, muslin flapped in the hot desert wind, revealing scaled humanoid feet before covering them.

His head lifted slowly to look at the figure before him, fear tightening his chest.

It was like something out of a nightmare, one that no one would ever want to see in their waking moments.
"Nasheej roon dijah," the figure croaked in a cracked voice not even remotely human, guttural and harsh.

"Speak English you fucking freak!" Pierce grated, his tone belying the fear that threatened to paralyze him. "What did you do with my men?"

A noise that vaguely resembled a laugh slipped from the creature's throat, and the one of his agents walked from behind the car he'd been trying to get to a moment ago.

Agent Walker.

For a moment, Pierce experienced a wild surge of hope. Back-up.

But the first figure glanced at the man and spoke some unheard of language.

"Creeun yasaen cree," it said, and the what had once been Walker waved his hand.

In an instant everything around him had changed into hell on Earth. Where once pristine sand lay, now it was coated in blood, sprayed everywhere.

Pieces of what remained of most of his agents lay scattered across the desert floor, discarded haphazardly.

He felt the rise of madness in his mind at all he had just seen, and what was sure to happen to him.

"What do you want from me? Jesus, what did you do, eat the other one? Where is the third and the girl?" he asked, almost whimpering.

The creature tilted his head at this, and turned to his companion, occupying Agent Walker's body.

"Fryaleesh?" it asked.

Agent Walker turned to Pierce.

"Where is the Zan?" it asked in a dead voice.

"What?" Pierce asked.

"The Zan," it repeated.

"I have no fucking clue what you're talking about," he answered, trying to buy some time.

"Tell us where the Zan is," Walker said again, his eyes filled with a malicious intelligence.

"Look, have any of you ever heard any of us mention a "zan"? I don't know what a fucking zan is! Explain it to me, and maybe I can help you out," Pierce snapped.

The Agent and the creature looked at each other again, and the creature nodded, its long scaly fingers reaching for Pierce's throat.

"Don’t touch me!" he said, jerking backward, but the creature was too quick.

So this was it, he thought. This was how he was going to die, at the hands of his former captive.

Razor-sharp nails poked two holes into either side of his neck, and he screamed. That scream died a moment later as his whole body became numb. He stared into the eyes of the creature as it bared its impossibly long sharpened teeth, feeling himself being pulled into its gaze, and flashes of things, worlds he'd never seen flashed before his eyes.

It was a black place, with the only light coming from blasts of fire that exploded from the earth. Lava poured thick from crevices in the black-stained earth, so hot it burned blue. He saw creatures he'd never imagined in his darkest nightmares rejoicing in some unknown event.

These were his eyes, now the eyes of the creature. He watched as together they moved toward an enormous cave, its entrance like a gaping maw marring the face of the rock that seemed to rise into oblivion, its edges jagged and menacing. Hot smoke permeated the air, but it did not bother the creature.

This body was not the creatures own, but one he had possessed, much like he would soon possess Pierce's.

Its kind had completed their mission, capturing the King and his sister, and his second in command. Their fate rested was inevitable, their sentence to be carried out immediately. It didn't want to miss the festivities.

Pierce, his mind joined with the memories, recoiled at the smell of burned flesh that lay heavy all around him.

The creature stepped into the cave to be among its kind, to partake in the viewing of the execution that had long been overdue.

The three stood on a high platform, their heads bowed, trapped by a detainment shield. Their form was graceful, their limbs long and beautiful, unlike its own. Their heads were covered with silky hair, where its own had none. Their skin was soft and supple, where its own was scaly and rough.

Behind them, members of their court lay still. The creature sneered in disappointment. It had missed the slaying of Kale and his brother Juroon, the Protectors of the Royal Family. Between the two of them, they'd killed many of Khivar's best warriors. But, it appeared that retribution had been delivered. Kale's children and wife lay dismembered beside him, and he had no doubt that Kale had been made to watch while it happened before meeting his own demise.

The creature's thin lips spread over its deadly teeth in a grin of satisfaction.

Dismayed, Pierce realized his grave error. The creatures that had stood before him in the desert were not the beings he had held prisoner for most of their lives. These beings were something altogether darker and infinitely more malevolent.

The creature snarled in disgust as it saw the ethereal blue light that seemed to come from within them. It was beautiful, and it hated beauty. It hated everything about these creatures, just as its kind had hated the Antarians for a thousand of years. His kind thrived on darkness and debasement, with no regard for living beings other than their own. They thrived on darkness. It was all they knew. Many beings of countless planets had fallen over the two millennia that had passed since its kind had pulled themselves from the mire of the Veluvian swamps. They were excellent trackers, and deadly foes. When Khivar had approached it to eliminate the Royals, it and its small group had accepted readily, not just because it would rule half the galaxy, but because it detested everything they were.

Pierce recoized the three on the platform for who they were, calling on the creature's memories and knowledge. The Zan. Vilondra. Rath. His prisoners.

There were five inhabited planets in the galaxy: Antar, Vlaadin, Xhulian, Uhruq and Laridia.

Xhulain was ruled by Khivar. His people loathed the fact that the Antarians had control of the Granolith. But Antar was far more powerful than Khivar's world or his people. For as long as anyone could remember, they had been at war with Antar.

The four other planets had formed an alliance, to strengthen their forces against the intruders, with Antar's King in the seat of power carrying the most powerful weapon of all, the Granolith. The Granolith gave them power and protection.


For thousands of years the four planets fought against the invaders, successfully keeping them at bay. Khivar's predecessors had been foolish, trying to take the Granolith by brute force. But Khivar was different. He played to the other planet's greed, promising them the riches that the Antarians never asked of the Granolith. He hired creatures like the Veluvians to track down those who were vocal in their opposition against him. Soon, there was no one left to stand in his way. Khivar turned the leaders of the other planets against the Antarian King, and when the time came to make their move, the other leaders in the Alliance sat back and let the massacre of the King and Queen proceed without protest. It had taken longer to track and capture the newly-appointed Zan, his second Rath, and the Princess, their sister.

At first, after the deaths of the King and Queen, the leaders of the other planets had realized their error in allying themselves with Khivar. But for the moment, the Antarians would not forgive their breach of loyalty.

The children of the King and Queen were heavily guarded, and it was near impossible to even catch a glimpse of the Zan. But that was nothing new. No one knew much about him. He'd not been a public figure, remaining an enigma to much of Antar. His father had wanted it that way, proclaiming that he was special, a powerful Zan that would end the wars in the galaxy forever. But his father was gone, and his son was expected to step up. When he didn't right away, the people grew restless.

There was talk of the Antarians' confidence waning in the new Zan. He would have to show his face soon, or face the certain mutiny of his people.

Khivar gambled on that and won.

Every 15 moons, the five planets gathered on a previously chosen planet to rejoice in the Celebration of the Curacia. It was an ancient religious ceremony celebrating the birth of the Universe and consequently, the birth of the Supreme Being, Curacia. Curacia was said to have created the Granolith to balance all living things in the Universe. Good balanced evil. Love balanced hate. Bounty balanced famine. The future balanced the past.

The Antarian royals were the chosen protectors of the Granolith, because they were deemed by the Curacia to be fair, just and objective.

Khivar had heard through intelligence that the Zan would make a surprise appearance with his second and sister to greet the crowds at the festival.

Unbeknownst to the Antarians, Khivar acquired the services of the Veluvian and a few of his kind that still lived, rumored to be the best bounty hunters in the galaxy. Few even believed they existed, thinking them merely a legend. Together, they planned the attack and abduction with careful deliberation, fueled with the information they'd received.

The Antarians were unprepared for an attack, as the Celebration had always been recoized as a day of prayer and peace. It was unacceptable and considered a sacrilege and an affront to Curacia and the Granolith to use violence in any form, and had been respected by all planets in the galaxy for thousands of years. Khivar was about to renege on that agreement. It was the only opportunity they might have to capture them, and he took it.

The day was beautiful on Antar as the creature and its companions slunk through the crowd, their heads covered in heavy cassocks.

The Antarians were in high spirits, needing a diversion from the loss of their King and the betrayal of the leaders of the four other worlds in their galaxy.

A parade full of beautifully-clad Antarians meandered through the wide throughways outside of the compound. Entrancing music floated through the air as the participants reenacted the ancient dances of thanks to Curacia.

Cheers rose to an almost deafening volume as the people that lined the route caught their first glimpse of the Zan in full Antarian regalia. He sat high above the crowd on a floating dais with his sister, under the watchful eye of the Antarian General and heir, Rath and the two appointed protectors, Kale and Juroon. A guard guided the floating platform through the crowded streets as they wound around the compound. They had planned a specific route, never too far away from an escape into the compound if needed. The dais was surrounded by Antarian soldiers, smiling and enjoying the festive mood of the people.

Khivar gave the order. Rath and the protectors would be no match for the Veluvians.

The creatures dissolved themselves, invisible save a slight shimmer in their wake to any eyes, and approached the dais.

Their essences moved around the bodies of the guards without detection.

Because they kept low to the floor of the dais, Rath never saw them as they moved behind him, the creature moving in front of the guard piloting the dais. Two of the others enveloped the Protectors, rendering them powerless in their own bodies. The guard inhaled the essence of the Veluvian without ever knowing it, and the Protectors remained paralyzed as the Veluvians took control of their nervous systems. Immediately, the Veluvian took control of its host, the navigator. Once again, it lamented how convenient it would have been to take possession of the bodies of the Royals. But once possessed, the body would not release the Veluvian until its death, and a very public execution had been planned for them.

Before Rath or the two protectors had a chance to turn around, they were knocked to the floor of the dais and held there by invisible force. With a furious roar, Rath tried to rise, and was again knocked down to the ground, a shackle snapped around his wrist.

Vilondra saw Rath go down, and made a move to rise, but Zan put a hand on her wrist, silently commanding her to remain seated. She looked at him in panic and then turned again to Rath to see him struggling against the shackle melded to the floor of the dais, who was now powerless against them.

"Zan! Heru!" he shouted, looking at him in desperation.

Zan! Fight!

Confusion was breaking out among the crowd below them.

"Vel seel gorn shan?" she asked him. "Lu non salah hre..."

Is it a mutiny? You can't just sit there and...

The guard motioned to the air, and three of his counterparts materialized from thin air, one taking the helm of the dais, driving it upward, away from the crowd, the guards below shouting to each other, powerless to do anything, afraid they would harm their new King and the Princess.

"Sheel," Zan said to Vilondra, never taking his eyes off the guard who had stood tall next to Rath.

Silence.

"Vel sulan..." he whispered.

It is meant...

The Veluvian, now firmly entrenched in its host, cackled in delight.

"Vel sulan. Lu sign shree. Diel Khivar shree agrapa," he said.

It is meant. You are right. Khivar will have your head.

The Zan looked at him, calm eyes sizing him up, judging him. It infuriated the Veluvian.

With a powerful backhand, the Veluvian struck Zan, slicing the skin of his cheek with its razor-sharp knuckles. Zan's head was thrown to the side, but with eerie calm, he turned his head back toward his foe, his eyes sizing him up.

"Lu Veluvian."

You are Veluvian.

The creature stood taller, its ego boosted that he'd been recoized.

"Lan lu seeth," the Veluvian said.

Tonight, you die.

"Lus sheemah," Zan answered, and the creature laughed at his answer.

We shall see.


*%*%*%*%*%*%*%

All was going as planned. They had killed the King and Queen, and their offspring were about to be slaughtered in the biggest public display this planet had seen in hundreds of years. This Zan would be the last, as he had not found his mate, and not produced offspring. Neither had his sister. There would be no heir.

They had been taken to Xhulian, and Khivar's army had invaded Antar. There would be no escape for any of them.

As it stood there gloating, waiting for their final destruction, soldiers had infiltrated the royal compound on Antar and surely were only minutes from gaining control of the Granolith. Their victory would be complete.

Animalistic howls of glee erupted from the crowd as the executioners moved to stand before the three. There would be no escape. Not this time.

It seemed they'd waited forever for this moment, and now it had finally arrived.

The three guards circled the Antarians with their primitive weapons, glaring at them behind the shimmering shield. The amber-eyed one lifted his head and returned their stare with an aura of royal diity.

This infuriated the guards and they snarled at them, growls echoing through the cave as the crowd grew silent.

The ancient one, stooped and crippled, shuffled out from the privacy of the antechamber behind the platform. He stood, studying the three as the new Antarian King's second in command stepped in front of him in protection.

It was a smart move, one almost admirable, the creature thought to himself as it watched the scene unfold. For the old ones eyes belied his infirmity, cold and filled with all-consuming hatred.

The ancient one cackled in wicked delight.

"Preesuh seah klee Rath," he said.

A feisty one you are.

Rath did not answer, but stood in defiance, loyal to his King and wife to the end.

"Malakee sun frie," the old one said.

Prepare for your death...

Masalah bihn shie, Rath. Nah ruselah momein reu...

The Zan's whisper echoed through the chamber, as if amplified.

Fashalah, Rath.

We cannot fight them, Rath.

The crowd burst into a cacophony of laughter and catcalls. Even the creature couldn't help letting a chuckle escape its throat.

"Themrashalah yun dru Veluvians! Morte yahesh larwen jasheveh wairh Zan!" Vilondra cried out in a bold voice.

"You will be cursed, Veluvians! It is a sacrilege to kill the Zan!"

"Kree den soth frie!" a member of the crowd cried with a laugh.

Let them die!

Rath turned to look at his friend and leader in desperate frustration. With a mere look, Zan told Rath everything he needed to know. The creature could see it. Rath again bowed his head with the others, and they waited to be dealt their fate.

The crowd's patience had run thin, and the executioners knew it.

Without further ceremony, the shield dropped and with lightning speed the guards fell upon the Zan and his companions, slashing at them with their razor-sharp weapons.

The creature knew that they could have felled the Zan, Vilondra and Rath with the mere power of their minds in the Antarian's weakened state, but it would have been to clean, too quick. It was not the Veluvian's way.

And so the three were cut and slashed without protest, almost stoic in their pacifism as they were mortally wounded.

Blackness crept into the cave as Vilondra and Rath fell first. The guards were not as merciful on the Zan. But as hard as they tried, the Zan bore the attacks, his breathing becoming labored with the effort to remain standing as the blood that sustained his body poured from it. And incredibly, the energy surrounding him seemed to grow more powerful.

The creature felt an irrational fear begin to build in its heart as the it watched the light that surrounded the Zan grow even brighter even as his life force ebbed. Though they cut at him, slashing his skin, tearing muscle and splintering bone, he would not fall. He stumbled back as they came after him again.

The creature unconsciously backed away, feeling something in the air that the others did not. Something powerful, something dangerous.

Finally, one of the guards swung his weapon low, catching the Zan at the ankle. He fell to his knees, arms outstretched, looking to the sky, as though he could see it through the jagged rock of the cave ceiling.

His whisper seemed to thunder through the chamber, though he had not raised his voice.

Gothel rian s

Grant me death

U mire intenia swair len dun

So that I might live

U mire

I begin my journey

U Treth borh soun

I call upon the Watchers to guide me

U Jerada borh dyune

I call upon the Protectors to keep me safe

U jyure Xan din

For I am the Zan, the last

U tren non pelan drue

I seek that which I found not in this life

Mor riuden il, heru qual

That which will complete me, make me whole

U chen il Granolith

That I might serve the Granolith and keep my family's promise

Sen druith in sana, wal qual rasalan

To wrong what is right, make whole what is now broken

Suun salah

And restore the balance

Hre nakore hree ahn Granolith

I call upon the power of the Granolith in Its infinite wisdom

Masah, gran saah, gran sulih

To guide me, make me strong, make me powerful...

For a moment, all was still as the words echoed against the rock, as if it had taken on a life of its own.

A lone shout of fury rang out from the crowd and the others quickly joined in, asking, demanding the death of the Zan.

His eyes closed as his fingers twitched, stretched out to his sides. The guard closest to him snarled and with a roar, raised his weapon and brought it down, crushing the Zan's skull as the shouts grew in their volume and insane glee.

For a moment the body swayed and its light dimmed, and then fell to the rock amidst the cheers.

But the cheers were short-lived. A mighty rumble shot through the chamber, loosening the jagged rock above.

The cheers turned to shouts of terror as a wall of Veluvians ran for the entrance of the chamber, trying to get out before it collapsed.

The creature was swept along with the others, drawn to the relative safety of the outside.

As it passed through the gaping hole of the entrance, the chamber collapsed upon itself in a mighty roar, sending dust out of the entrance in a suffocating twister.

It seemed hours before word got to the creature of the fall of the Antarian compound to the Veluvians.

One of its highest-ranking warriors approached the creature and spoke.

There was no sign of the Granolith on Antar. It had simply vanished.

The creature felt dark fury fill its black heart.

*%*%*%*%*%*%*

Amidst the rock, all was silent and still. Death permeated the air in the chamber, the smell of blood still thick in the air amidst the dust.

A piercing beam of light burst into the half-buried chamber, and the air seemed to pulse with unfathomable energy as the dust began to swirl in a furious maelstrom.

For a moment, all was obliterated by the dust, and the chamber suddenly fell silent.

Where a moment before there was nothing, a cone-shaped dome now stood, pulsing beckoning.

A voice whispered through the chamber.

Awaken...Awaken...Awaken...

A hand burst through the rubble, frantically trying to find purchase.

Though the rock was impossibly heavy, it burst away as if by detonation, and Kael slowly pulled himself from the rock.

An anguished cry burst from his lips as he felt the call of the Granolith, ordering him to find his brother Juroon.

*%*%*%*%*%*%

Hours later, Xhulian was still in chaos. Though Khivar dared not be in their presence, he had rejoiced in the deaths of the Royals. But his people were already calling for the Granolith, and he did not have it in his possession.

The Veluvian stood by his side, as it watched him look out the window of the compound at the dark night.

It was almost as if it could read his thoughts.

Khivar needed the Granolith if he was to keep rei of the galaxy, and he had no idea where to begin the search.

A violent tremor shook the compound, and the two grabbed the sill to maintain their balance.

An explosion of light seemed to fill the night sky as rock seemed to melt from the great mountain where the Royals had been slaughtered.

Khivar watched in horror as the Granolith burst from the rock, careening into the night sky, away from Xhulian, away from Khivar.

"NOSHHHHEEEEEEEHHH!!!" he shouted, furious, watching his only chance at commanding the galaxy escape into the heavens.

"For shun shet dreta dorn mishe sul tren," Khivar said.

It is gone. All is lost without the Granolith in my possession.

The Veluvians eyes narrowed as it watched the light fade.

"Lu ehmas cardi treech un shu. Mal seen shi orn dree leeshah forn dun," the Veluvian said.

"I will find it"

*%*%*%*%*%*%

Ancient prophecies were brought to light in the wake of the disappearance of the Granolith. Half whispers of rebirths and prophecies were heard whispered among the increasing number of Antarian rebels who had managed to escape Khivar's army.

Khivar did not believe the seemingly ridiculous stories. He wanted the Granolith. But the Veluvian however had seen many fantastic things in its lifetime, and did not discount the ancient stories as easily. It remembered when events that now were considered to be old yarns had actually happened. It and the few like him had lived a thousand years or more and had seen the destruction of their own planet. Its eyes had seen creatures of great power, darkness so deep it rendered beings mad.

The older council members passed away, and a slowly a new generation of younger Antarians replaced the figurehead council that had been in place since the Zan's death. Where the old had been closed-lipped about the legends of the Granolith, one of the new, younger, cynical generation that served Khivar was more readily eager to tell the legends, all of which he did not believe in. He revealed that the Granolith had the power to restore life where there was none, which meant the Zan could be reborn in another form. He spoke of a great bond, a mate that existed for the Zan which would change the universe forever.

Suddenly, the Zan's last prayer seemed to make a whole lot of sense.

The Veluvian hated the power of the Granolith and the order it represented. Khivar represented the corruption it longed for, the power it knew would be exploited. It knew it could have very comfortably live in the vision Khivar had for his empire.

And so it did its homework. It learned the customs and rites of the Zan in the old texts provided by the councilman. It memorized the rituals and sis, which would give it the ability to track him. It learned that it could take control of the Granolith if it possessed the body of the Zan.

Research revealed a heavily populated world called Earth, the only planet which sustained enough life to lend the Zan anonymity.

Two Veluvians landed on Earth three years ago, and set out to find the Granolith and the Zan, taking bodies as needed to survive undetected. It had been a long and fruitless journey, but it was patient. And its patience won out. It had seen felt the ground move and seen the luminous flash of the Antarian seal in the sky.

Now it would complete its mission, killing the Zan and taking control of the Granolith itself. There was no one to stop it from possessing the Zan and taking control of the Granolith. Once it did, it would have the Zan’s knowledge, and it would bequeath the power of the Granolith to Khivar. It did not want to rule with the Granolith. Such power had long since become distasteful. Best left to the young and corrupt. But it was tired, and it wanted the world it had envisioned for so long.

And now it was within its grasp.

%*%*%*%*%*%*

Pierce felt himself being dragged deep within his own mind as the creature became the dominant force in his body.

So much had been misunderstood.

This being was evil, but his former prisoner and his companions had brought this demon to his world. He hated them now more than he ever did.

They had ruined his life, killed his father in cold blood, and his mother in turn by breaking her heart.

And now he was next.

A howl of rage echoed through his mind as he felt his own sense of identity dim.

*%*%*%*%*%*%*%

"What is she saying?" Maria yelled, turning to John.

"I don't know," John said shaking his head.

Liz continued to whisper the same unknown words over and over again, as if in a trance, her eyes closed, her lips moving frantically.

Gothel rian seeth...U mire intenia swair len dun......U Jerada borh dyune...U jyure Xan din...U tren non pelan drue...Mor riuden il, heru qual...U chen il Granolith...Sen druith in sana, wal qual rasalan...Suun salah....Hre nakore hree ahn Granolith....Masah, gran saah, gran sulih..."

"Well get on the damned phone and call one of your X-File buddies who does know!" Alex shouted at him.

"No one understands the language," John said. "We understand some of their customs, some of the legends, but they've been translated..."

"Your people are friggin useless!" Maria snapped.

"Gothel rian seeth..."

"What are we supposed to do?" Maria asked, looking at Alex.

Alex shook his head, running his hand through his hair.

"There's nothing to do until they come back. We don't know how much damage was done when he tried to break their bond," Uncle John said.

"U mire intenia swair len dun..."

"We can't just leave her like this!" Maria said.

"U mire U Treth borh soun..."

"Max will fix it when he comes back," John answered.

"U Jerada borh dyune..."

"John, what if he doesn't come back?" Alex asked, turning to face him in anger.

"U jyure Xan din... Mor riuden il, heru qual "

Alex's jaw tightened as he looked up at the ceiling, trying to think of something, anything he could do to rouse Liz from the trance she was in. She was unresponsive to anything, continuing the chant, a maniacal mantra.

His head jerked toward her as her body seemed to wrench from the ground.

Her eyes snapped open, and her face became a mask of horror.

"ZAAAAANNNNN!!!!"

*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*

Max heard her whispered chant in the back of his head as Cal continued to shout in his face. But to him, his lips seemed to move without sound. Everything was drawing him to Liz's voice, to remember that which he had forgotten; that which had remained hidden from his waking thoughts.

Gothel rian seeth...U mire intenia swair len dun...U Jerada borh dyune...U jyure Xan din...U tren non pelan drue...Mor riuden il, heru qual...U chen il Granolith...Sen druith in sana, wal qual rasalan...Suun salah....Hre nakore hree ahn Granolith....Masah, gran saah, gran sulih..."

Flashes of his beautiful planet flowed through his mind. Images of his sister, his closest friend, his protectors, the whispers of teachings long forgotten, skirting the edge of his memory just out of reach.

He had not created his world in the compound. It existed, light years away, remnants of a life he hadn't remembered.

The Granolith was before him, imposing in its lustrous beauty. His father was teaching him the secrets of the Zan. For he was the chosen. He of the kind heart and mind, extraordinary wisdom and endless compassion, would battle the evil that had grown in the galaxy for thousands of years, fed by jealousy and greed.

It was part of the greater plan, a lesson to those that were not true of heart.

Prophecies spoken a millennia before would now come to pass.

A pure being yet incomplete would rise and fall and rise again. His purpose greater than that of his first life, his journey was to learn, to seek, to find that which would make him whole, his other half.

She would carry the mark of the five planets in a V formation, hidden to all but him.

The bonding would heal the Granolith, rejuvenate it with the purity of that bond.

The future was not clear, and sacrifices would be great.

So many sacrifices. His family. Cal's family. Juroon. So many Antarians.

His greatest test was yet to come, for it was told to him as the Zan, that a choice would arise, one of selflessness and great personal sacrifice, made for the greater good.

He remembered the calm that had come over him the day they'd been captured by Khivar, so sure he was in his purpose.

Death had not frightened him. It was merely the beginning of the journey to that which he had waited a lifetime for, the journey to find his soul-mate.

Years of teachings had come to this one day.

It would come down to one choice, Liz's life or his own.

She was coming, and she was part of the whole plan. He knew that now. And he knew what he had to do.

*%*%*%*%*%*%

"Kid, are you listening to me?" Cal seethed.

Max looked at him. He could see Michael and Isabel staring at him, frightened. They did not remember any of it. He knew it all now, and it was going to be all right.

"I know what I'm meant to do," Max answered.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Cal said in frustration.

"Liz, she's the one. She is my mate," he said, his eyes piercing Cal's.

"She was a mistake ," Cal answered. "Kid, you took her on because you were grateful she helped you out. There's nothing we can do about that now, but she isn't who you think she is."

"She's the one," Max insisted. "I can feel it."

Cal shook his head in disgust, leaning against the wall.

"Leave him alone," Isabel whispered, and Michael put his arm around her.

Cal's head fell back against the wall in defeat.

"You weren't meant to have that bond, the bond. You can't even call to the Granolith! You don't know anything! Your parents were the ones that set this whole thing in motion to begin with. Your father told you something that wasn't true . I've looked over the old texts myself. It was supposed to be your kid that found the life mate. Your kid that made the great sacrifice, not you. Don't you get it? If you go ahead and do what the text says, there won't be any kid, or anything left of Antar for that matter," he said.

"You were meant to go back to Antar, to find your mate there. You've already fucked everything up," he said.

"She's expendable. I know it hurts to hear that, and now she's probably thinking she's the second coming, thanks to you. But she's not. She's a human girl, nothing more," he said.

Max felt rage building in his chest at Cal's insolence. Cal was wrong, he could feel it. He had to be...

"You don't know anything," Max whispered angrily.

"Look, we've got more important things to think about now, like the bounty hunters that are on their way here, never mind Pierce. I don't want you getting any stupid ideas in your head. Jesus Christ, I know it sounds right, like its supposed to be you, but it's not. Yeah you died and I died. Everybody died. And we're all standing here, right? But she doesn't have the mark. Don't tell me you haven't seen almost every inch of her by now," Cal muttered.

"Did you see it?" he asked.

Max's heart dropped as he realized Cal was right. He hadn't seen the mark he'd just seen in his visions on Liz. But she had to be the one...

"You didn't," Cal said, and Max didn't answer. "Because it's your son that will find that girl, not you! That vision was meant for you to pass on to your son," he said in resiation.

"If you make the wrong move now, if you do what I think you're planning on doing, it's a mistake , and one that could cost millions of beings their lives. Don't even think about it. You need to get back to Antar, and you can set things right with the Granolith. You can get rid of Khivar and start to rebuild," Cal said.

"No, I...''

Max was interrupted by the sound of approaching cars.

"We don't have time to talk about this. Don't do it kid, even if she shows up. I'm telling you, your gonna screw up everything," Cal said, looking out the window. "Remember about the sacrifices. She's not the one. You wanna be the Zan, then you have to face that."

Kal looked out the window.

"It's Pierce. Get ready, 'cause it's now or never," he muttered.