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| Volume 3: A Line in the Sand | Part I: The One and the Nine |
THE prophecies of Valen are so well known as hardly to need restating here. The histories of Valen are rather less so. Oh, certain things are irrefutable. That he appeared out of nowhere, bringing to us the great battle station which provided us with the means to defeat the Enemy is not disputed. That he was the greatest of us is not disputed either. That he was 'Minbari not born of Minbari' is widely accepted, even though few of us understand what that means.
Other details however are shrouded in controversy, and much depends upon the caste of the person to whom you speak. To the warriors, Valen was one of them, the greatest of them, a detail not even Sinoval dares contradict. They speak of Valen as the shatterer of empires, as the bringer of light to the dark places, as the sentinel of duty and responsibility. It is sad that they have themselves lost many of the virtues they claim to have inherited from him.
To the religious caste, Valen was the ultimate conciliator, bringing peace where there was war, bringing joy where there was sorrow. They speak of the man who formed the Grey Council, ended the warring, united the Fanes after years of futile conflict. They speak of the man who preached and drew crowds of hundreds of thousands.
To us.... we speak of him as the man who built the foundations of our people. The other castes tend to regard us with contempt. Their saying, 'the warriors fight, the religious pray, the workers build', was intended to demonstrate to us our station. We are the labourers, the toilers, the ones unfit to raise our eyes to the sky.
Valen showed us differently. There is no shame in building. We are the creators, not just of bridges and temples and ships, but of hope and justice and safety. We are the foundation stone upon which the whole of our people rests. Valen knew this, and encouraged it in us. There are accounts - which I believe to be accurate - of his conversations with the leaders of the worker families. He understood our duty, he understood our purpose and our strength.
As with everything else, there is no solid clarification on the manner of his death. Many refuse to believe he has died at all. Some of the warriors hold he died a death they would see as fitting, returning to Z'ha'dum to face down the Ultimate Enemy once and for all. The religious caste hold that his soul has passed on, and been reborn countless times since then. The warriors believe his soul remains, waiting for the day when he will return to us. They believe that they must remain worthy and pure for him.
And what do we believe? All these things, and none of them. We know who Valen was, and we know how he lived. Surely that is more important than how he died?
And as for his return.... if we keep ourselves as he wished us to be, there will be no need for him to return, for he will never have left us....
Excerpts from The Worker, the Warrior, the Priest: Essays on Valen,
written and published by Kats of the Fifth Fane,
in the year the humans would know as 2250.
All copies of this are believed destroyed with Tuzanor, the City of Sorrows.
"I have returned."
The first words spoken by Valen on the Day of Return,
uttered in the Temple of Varenni, Yedor, on the Earth date December 31st, 2259.
* * * * * * *
There are certain moments which are later identified as crucial to the direction of the universe. Such moments are often difficult to define, much less so to recognise. Ha'Cormar'ah G'Kar described them in one of his more famous speeches to his Narn congregation as being moments of transition - "in which the future lurks waiting, forming, preparing itself" - and moments of revelation - "where the future is born".
By that reckoning, the events of the entire last week had been one long moment of revelation. Minbar, one of the oldest civilisations in the galaxy, had fallen. Torn apart by internal strife, political division, genocide and one enemy too many, the seeds of her downfall had been sown many years ago - perhaps even when Valen had first arrived among the Minbari. The key events of the last week had accelerated all these random elements and exploded with brutal force upon the Minbari people.
Their world was devastated, their skies filled with choking clouds and burning rain, their ground poisoned beyond repair. Such was the revenge of the human race.
But still the strife continued. A vicious struggle for leadership had ensued, as disparate factions vied and contended for power. The contest seemed finally and decisively over. Sinoval of the Wind Swords clan, formally Holy One and Entil'zha, and now Primarch Nominus et Corpus of the Minbari's ancient enemies the Soul Hunters, had met and defeated his adversary - the warrior, Kalain - in the ancient device of the Starfire Wheel. Somehow Sinoval had faced its lethal fury and survived, thus becoming the only one other than Valen to do so.
That should have been that. Issue resolved. Sinoval would rule.
Matters did not work that way.
A moment of revelation. Sinoval had had bare seconds to enjoy his triumph before another trial arrived. Heralded by an angel from myth, a figure stepped forward. He had pulled back his hood, and said six simple words.
"I have returned. I am Valen."
G'Kar had broken down the galaxy into moments of transition and moments of revelation, which formed the present and the future. He did add one other detail.
The future is always born in pain.
* * * * * * *
Sinoval turned his gaze, not to the figure claiming to be Valen, but to the angel hovering above him. The people whispered the name 'Valeria'. Sinoval thought another name entirely, but he did not speak it. Some days it seemed that he alone saw the truth between what the Vorlons were and what they claimed to be.
He strode forward towards the newcomer. The crowd fell silent. They had gathered here as refugees, fleeing to the one building in Yedor not reduced to rubble. They had been expecting a miracle here for days, and now they had seen three: Sinoval surviving the Starfire Wheel; Valeria appearing; and the return of Valen.
And yet many of them were afraid. Sinoval was a warrior. A warrior who stood alongside Soul Hunters, who had defeated one of his own and who, if rumour was correct, had abandoned his people to this bombardment. The warriors here certainly did not think so, but the religious caste and the workers.... they doubted.
Sinoval reached Valen and stopped mere inches before him. With piercing dark eyes, he gazed into the soul of the person opposite him.
Valen, greatest of them all. The One. Founder of the Grey Council. The list of his achievements could run forever.
The entire Temple was silent. Kats, of the workers, watched the scene. She did not move. She did not breathe. She more than anyone else recognised the tragedy here, and the potential for so much worse. The Soul Hunters beside Sinoval - his honour guard - were silent. Whatever they saw, whatever they thought, they kept the matter to themselves.
Sinoval snorted and turned away. Without saying a word, he stalked from the sanctuary. The two Soul Hunters followed him, each one looking at Valen.... almost hungrily. Kats flicked a glance back in Sinoval's direction and then towards Valen, her mind in two directions. If this really was Valen, if.... if it was him, then surely she should stay here, listen to his words. And yet she had sworn fealty to Sinoval, sworn to follow him through darkness and fire, sworn to....
She decided, and left the sanctum, following Sinoval. She caught up with him as he was about to leave the building. He stopped as he heard her quick footsteps, and nodded to her.
She said nothing as she neared, waiting for him to speak.
"It saddens me," Sinoval said slowly, "that he is not who he says he is. He is almost everything I could have wished the real Valen to be. Whatever the Vorlons did to him, it almost worked. Almost."
"How.... how do you know? Are you certain?"
Sinoval shook his head sadly. "I am certain." He continued walking, making for the shuttle that would take him back to Cathedral. Kats followed him, having to hurry to keep up with his long stride. "Oh, the bearing.... the voice, the appearance.... everything is right. Everything except the eyes."
"The eyes?"
"There is no experience, no wisdom, no courage in them. They were.... empty. Blank. That is not Valen, although I could almost wish it were."
"You.... you could have challenged him. You could have told the others, you could have...."
"Have done what? I am sure he will convince them well enough. The priestlings in particular will be eager to believe. Their great uniter has returned to save them from the monster who brings the Shagh Toth here, and who does not fall in with their every word. Let them believe, my lady. They are still my people, not his. He can call himself Valen, he can call himself the One, he can call himself whatever he wishes. That does not make it true. I rule here, and I will continue to rule no matter how many false Valens the Vorlons throw up before me."
"I will follow you, Holy One," she said quietly, the words having more force in her soft tone than many others could manage in a strong one. "I will follow you through darkness and fire."
"Why?" he asked suddenly, and she stopped. She had first sworn that oath to him before the bombardment, a few weeks ago. She had spoken it then because he had saved her, and because another brave man had sworn it as well. Now she believed in the oath more than ever.
"Because you could command the heavens if you wanted. Because you survived the Starfire Wheel. Because I believe in you. Because I.... because I will."
"Ah, fine words, my lady. I honestly believe there is a warrior's heart within you."
She smiled. "I am happy with my own heart, Holy One. I am no more and no less than I seem."
"I doubt that." He gestured to her, and they resumed walking, more slowly this time. He had reduced his massive stride to her smaller steps. "You spoke of the Starfire Wheel. Do you know how I survived?"
"No. Some would say that you were chosen, as Valen was."
"Chosen? Yes, but chosen by whom, I wonder? Actually, I did survive in the same way that Valen did. I cheated, as he did." Kats' eyes widened for a moment, but she was not particularly surprised. "A few.... simple modifications to my pike, and when raised above my head it created a force field. The fatal radiation flowed straight past it, and I survived. Simple, really. Valen managed it the same way. A quick conversation with a few souls and the Vindrizi, and I soon figured it out."
Kats smiled. "You are more devious than I gave you credit for, Holy One. What will you do about Va.... about him?"
"He is of no concern to me. I have duties and responsibilities here, and elsewhere. If they believe him, then let them. I still rule here. I, and no other. I will deal with this false Valen, and with his Vorlon masters.... in due course.
"Come, my lady. I fear that there is a great deal ahead of us."
"Yes," she whispered. "There is."
* * * * * * *
He spoke, and his words fired them. They could not remember exactly what he said, but standing there, where three miracles had just been witnessed.... Standing there, with an angel of legends hovering above him, he could have spoken of nothing and still held their attention for hours.
His first speech to them had been straightforward enough. A speech of understanding, of remembrance, of grief for the fallen and determination for the future. He said nothing of Sinoval, or of the Starfire Wheel, or of the Shadows, or of humanity.
These could wait.
His words freed them, and bound them, holding them entranced, and giving them visions of the future, and the past. He reached into their minds, and he wove for each and every one of them a tapestry in which they were the centre.
He spoke, and when his words were over he turned and left, disappearing as if he had never been. The angel disappeared with him, and the people who had witnessed the miracle were left alone, silent in wonderment at what they had seen.
It was a beginning. There would be more words, more speeches, more oratory, more wonder. He would bind them to him, bring them to him, fire their minds and pacify their souls.
And then.... and.... then....
He did not know.
These could wait.
* * * * * * *
Lyta Alexander was not having a good day. Of course not many of her days had been good recently, but she could put that down to a series of awkward and quite ridiculous events that had plagued her for the last two years. She supposed that compared to some of those days, this one was not actually all that bad, just a little.... annoying.
She was bored, in fact. And quite frustrated. She was a permanent fixture on board the Parmenion in case the ship ran into any Shadows, as telepaths were apparently a weapon of sorts against them. Lyta had never personally tested this theory out and did not especially want to, but the fact was that without the Shadows around she was as much use as a red-haired paperweight.
So she'd been sitting around helplessly while her own people proceeded to demolish an entire planet from orbit. She had been sitting around while the ship she was on was engaged in a bloody and quite brutal battle. She had made minor and quite insignificant efforts to do something to help the repairs on Minbar, but for obvious reasons she was not being allowed down to the planet.
And now, today, she was aware of both the gentle singing in her mind that indicated her Vorlon passenger was getting ready to say something, and some.... most.... peculiar emotions from her telepathic link with Delenn. Lyta did not quite know exactly what Delenn was doing, but she was certainly.... having fun doing it.
She sighed and lay back on the narrow bunk in her room. She supposed she could have had larger quarters, but the Parmenion was not really built for comfort and wherever possible she wanted to stay away from some of the other officers here.
She could hear a distant giggling and wondered just what Delenn was doing. This psychic bond, while pleasant at times, was also quite annoying. For some reason it was....
Marcus!
Lyta started as the thought she had been resisting all day burst into the forefront of her mind. She gasped and began to shake softly. Oh not now, not now, please! Marcus Cole.... the greatest love of her life, dead for nine months or so. And for most of those nine months she had managed to avoid thinking about him. Now, for some reason, memories of him exploded into her mind. The way he looked, the way he smelled, the way he reacted when she kissed him, the way he had died....
The singing grew gently louder and she rolled off the bed, resting on her knees, trying to cover her ears with her hands. "Stop it, you bastard!" she whispered. "Stop it!"
There was a soft noise, almost like a wind chime. Memory, said the Vorlon. Remember the fallen. Count the lost.
"I.... don't want to remember him!" she snapped. "Just.... for God's sake, leave me alone!"
Kosh Naranek, her own personal Vorlon accessory. Delenn had had to put up with this for quite a while, until the Vorlon's presence had somehow transferred to Lyta during a routine telepathic scan. There had been very few times since then that she had not regretted that experience. Oh, her link with Delenn was wonderful, but the Vorlon she could do without.
"So what is it this time then?" she asked. "More cryptic remarks? I suppose I'm lucky you aren't appearing in a dream this time." The last time she hadn't been able to sleep for three days afterwards.
Protocol. There is another here. Visit him.
"Another what? Another Vorlon?"
Another dreamer.
"Who? Look, for God's sake, why can't you ever just tell me straight out? What the hell is going on?"
Understanding is a three-edged sword. Very well. Learn.
Lyta was about to say something when a force tore through the outer layers of her mind and deposited itself directly before her eyes. She could see another Vorlon - this one had a light blue encounter suit. She did not have much experience with Vorlons, but this one.... she did not like him. He looked faintly.... malevolent. Even unpleasant.
There was someone next to him, a humanoid. A Minbari, in fact. A Minbari with.... the.... most.... brilliant.... golden eyes. He seemed to be looking directly at her. He....
There was another explosion in her mind, and she could see something else. A battle, human ships against Minbari. The Minbari were winning. Easily. They were bearing down on a planet, a blue-green world.... Oh my God, that's Earth! That's....
Something was floating in space. A ship. A Starfury. Someone was in there, floating, screaming, trapped inside a glass box. He could see.... He was watching them....
With a start, Lyta's vision cleared. She began gasping desperately. She realised that she was trembling uncontrollably. For a moment she had been there.... there.... watching Earth being....
Understanding. Knowledge.
"You ever do that to me again, you bastard, and I'll.... I'll...." She didn't know what to do. She doubted she could actually do anything at all to that thing. "Who was he? My God, to have to.... see that...."
A dreamer. A man standing looking at a row of footsteps in a desert.
"Well, that makes about as much sense as anything else I've ever heard from you. Where do you want me to go?"
Down. There is a place there. A place of quiet and healing. Find it, and speak to those who are there.
"So much for directions. Where is that supposed to get me?"
You will know.
"That's not much help."
You will know.
"Fine, fine." Lyta rose to her feet and began pulling on a jacket and boots. Going down to Minbar would not be a good idea, but anything was preferable to being lectured by the Vorlon. She'd have to find Commander Corwin of course, arrange a trip down by shuttle, maybe get an escort, maybe....
A sudden flash came back to her. The Minbari next to the other Vorlon. Such brilliant golden eyes. Such.... beautiful golden eyes. These apart, he looked almost like the human she had seen.
Floating in a glass cage.
Watching his world being torn apart.
Such golden eyes....
* * * * * * *
"John?"
"Hmm?"
"John.... have you ever.... been.... reborn?"
"What?"
Delenn of Mir, former Satai of the Grey Council and currently President of the United Alliance of Kazomi 7, snuggled deeper into the arms of the man who was undoubtedly the love of her life and tried to articulate some of the things she was feeling. It would have helped if she even knew what she was feeling. There was so much.... blood between human and Minbari, and between the two of them in particular. Delenn had been unsure of her feelings for John for a long time, and it had taken Sinoval's recent revelation to confirm them in her mind. In his as well, apparently.
There was something Draal had told her once. 'Freedom, like love, is a strange thing. You only notice it when it is in danger, or when it is gone.'
"A rebirth," she said slowly. "I.... think that is the word for it. We call it the Nafak'cha. It is a ceremony held to mark a great change that is coming, or a great change that has been. It is a time for.... meditation on the past, hope for the future. A time for the healing of wounds and the joining of bonds. A time for.... many things."
"It sounds great." He was smiling and his hold on her tightened. She did not want him ever to let go. "It.... it sounds great, Delenn. What would I.... we have to do?"
"We must give up something of great value to us, and reveal something we have never told anyone else."
"Hmm. You have some weird ceremonies. Back home we'd hold a ceremony like that by going out and getting drunk."
"Maybe next time."
"It's a great idea. How.... ceremonial would it be? Do you need many people there, or...?"
"It can be done with any number, but nine is an.... appropriate figure. It is a number of great significance to us. I.... I would like to ask Lyta, if that is.... all right with you?"
"Of course it is. Ask whoever you like. It's your ceremony after all. Nine, you said? Why don't you ask David?"
"D.... David?"
John clicked his tongue in irritation. "Sorry. Commander Corwin."
"Oh! Of course.... Yes. There are a few others I would like to ask. I have.... been thinking about this for a few days. There has been so much blood shed, so many griefs aired and old scores raised. We need a moment of unity, of remembrance."
He kissed the back of her neck, his hand in her hair. "Of course. How long would it take to organise?"
"If I.... start now, then we may be able to hold it tonight. But I will...." She squirmed slightly. "John, I...." He was kissing her again. "John.... the Nafak'cha has.... other significances as well. It can have many. One of them is.... a joining. Of souls. I would.... like.... um.... that is...."
"Delenn, I.... I understand. It's just that...." He tensed again and his hands slid from her waist. "It's that.... well...." He sighed. "I.... do.... love you. You know that?"
She smiled, although sadly. "I do. We have time, John. A little, at least. The Nafak'cha will help."
He chuckled, although it was a false laugh. "I understand. Of course, Delenn. Go on. I'd better report in with David anyway. He'll probably think I've dropped off the face of the galaxy or something."
"He will know." She rose to her feet, sliding out from his embrace. She began smoothing out her dress, which had somehow got quite.... rumpled. She turned to look at him, seated on his chair, his jacket open. He looked.... younger. There was a light in his eyes that had rarely been there. She had known him for two years and had never seen him look as happy as he did now.
Her heart felt as though it would burst.
Slowly she leant over him, placing her palms on his chest. She kissed him, gently, slowly, lovingly, and then straightened, smiling, hoping he could not see in her eyes what she could see in his. "I love you," she whispered. "I will always love you."
He smiled, and reached up to touch her cheek. She smiled in turn, and flicked her gaze down to hide the pain. Then she turned and made her way to the door.
She stopped just as she reached it. "John.... I think.... I think I should invite Sinoval."
"If you.... think that's a good idea."
"It is a good idea. I do not wish to. I do not like him, or his actions of late, and yet.... He should be present. His soul is as much in need of rebirth as mi.... as ours."
"If you think so. I don't like him either, but...." He shrugged. "You do what you think is right, Delenn. I'll be with you."
She nodded. "I will.... ask him," she said softly. Then she left the room.
A Rebirth Ceremony. A chance to mend past wounds, and establish future ties. But how could she look to the future, when she and John did not have a future to look forward to?
* * * * * * *
There are things he remembers, things that are at odds with what he knows to be fact. He is Valen, he is the saviour of the Minbari, the scourge of the Shadows, he is.... human.
Catherine.... A strange name. Who was that? Who...?
A voice in his mind. A musical voice, but not one of light breezes and wind chimes in the autumn air. A voice of the sighs of a dying man, of bones rattling in the wind, of the sound night makes when it kills the sun.
<Irrelevant. Remember what we choose you to remember. Know what we tell you to know.>
"I...." He shakes his head. "Yes. That is correct. You are the Vorlons. You are the angels. You are our allies. Yes.... yes, I.... I remember now. I.... think."
<Do not think. Only obey.>
There is a brilliant light shining over him, and he sees an image of God before him. He drops to his knees, and whispers a prayer in a language he does not remember. He sees himself, kneeling, praying to a God he could not see then. He is.... he.... is....
Someone is coming. Here? This place is.... a sanctum. A place sacred to the Vorlons.... the angels. This is their holy place. Surely no one would come here. Especially not a.... human?
He rises, becoming aware of his body again. Muscles strain, bones creak. Sometimes he feels his body is an encumbrance. At other times, he feels it is the only link he has left, a link to.... something. There are so many holes in his mind, in his memory, in him.
It is a woman, a human woman. For a moment he studies her from a perspective not his own. She is pretty, tall, red-haired. His eyes linger over her hair for a moment, and he wonders why he is looking at it. None of his race has hair, except for a few who grow it on their chins. Her eyes are large, and guarded. There is a depth there, a depth that extends all the way to her soul, a depth that hints at the pain she has experienced, and the pain still to come.
She stops, looking at him, her penetrating eyes seeming to delve into his own. He wonders what she can see there, and he wonders why she should care. Then she sees the angel floating above them, and her mouth opens in a silent gasp. She takes one step forward, and then is locked into place, her head thrown back, her beautiful eyes lost to his view. A light begins to pour from her mouth, and he averts his eyes. This is not for him. This is not his place. He knows his place. It is.... somewhere....
He steps forward, towards her. He does not know why. She strikes a chord in him. A yearning towards something forgotten. A memory, perhaps?
He reaches out towards her and takes her hand in his. It is covered by a glove. She does not flinch from his touch. She does not even acknowledge it.
He is wearing gloves also. He does not know why he discards them both, letting them drop to the floor. They do not seem important any more. His hand touches her cheek gently. She is warm. It has been a long time since he has touched another (human?).... another.... being. At least physically. She is warm. It is a pleasant sensation.
<Obey,> whispers the voice of rattling bones and grating wind. He steps back and stands still, waiting. They are talking. About what, he does not know, and it is not his place to know. He is the servant, not the master. He is the tool, not the carpenter.
But he remembers the warmth of her skin, and something begins to stir within his memories. Something....
* * * * * * *
"A rebirth ceremony?" Sinoval looked as though he was about to burst into laughter. Kats looked at him strangely. His Soul Hunter 'honour guard' was shifting uneasily, but Sinoval looked more amused than angry.
"Our world is in ruins, our people dying, our buildings shattered, a false prophet has arisen, and.... and Delenn wants to hold a Rebirth Ceremony...." He was laughing. "Well, there is a priestling for you. Their solution to everything.... meditate on it and hope it will go away."
Kats smiled. "As opposed to the warrior solution to everything, which is to hit things." He turned to look at her, focussing his entire dark stare on her. She did not quail before the gaze that could humble even a Vorlon, but she did straighten herself a little more. "I think I will go to it, Holy One, with your permission of course?"
He snorted. "You need no permission from me, my lady. Your soul is your own."
She smiled, and nodded briefly. "And.... I think you should go also, Holy One."
"I have responsibilities here, my lady."
"And how many of your responsibilities can you accomplish when you collapse from exhaustion? When was the last time you slept?"
His gaze grew darker still. "Just before Deeron tried to kill me."
"Holy One.... you need to rest. You need to meditate, and remember, and.... rest. The Nafak'cha is not just some foolish priestling ceremony. It is a chance to surrender the past, embrace the future, give up a secret...."
"A secret?" His eyes gleamed for a moment, and she could see the ticking in his mind. "A.... secret.... Yes, I have secrets, and I'm not the only one. Delenn, Sheridan.... perhaps.... yes.... perhaps." He looked at her, and graced her with a smile. "Are you now my voice of wisdom, Lady? The angel over my shoulder?"
"I will be whatever you want me to be." She spoke the words simply, without emphasis. None was needed. "I am already your conscience."
"Something every ruler needs," he whispered. "Very well then, my lady of conscience and wisdom. I will go to Delenn's ceremony. I feel there may be.... something of worth to be gained there after all."
Kats frowned briefly, but only for a moment. Sinoval was Sinoval after all. Although he would not admit it, he had lost all incentive for anything but his duties. She swore to make him think of something else, even if only for a moment.
That would be enough.
* * * * * * *
Sonovar walked slowly through the streets of a ruined city, looking neither to the right nor the left, but only straight ahead. He could hear the soft moans, the desperate cries, the angry whimpers of the people around him. He did not care. What were they to him? Weaklings. Fools. People who did not know when to come in from the rain.
Sonovar had not been born in Yedor, but he had come here often. He had not liked the city. He did not like cities in general. He hated people. He hated being around people. Far too many of them were just weak, and pathetic, and foolish. Strength should rule, that was obvious.
He was looking for someone, someone who had once possessed strength, but had somehow lost it. Just like his whole caste, in fact.
Sonovar eventually found the one he was looking for. Kalain was hunched in a corner, whimpering softly. His bone crest was virtually disintegrating, revealing the delicate membrane beneath. His eyes were staring sightlessly into the sky. His fingers were clawing deep gouges in his face.
Sonovar sighed. Kalain would be a symbol. He had stood up to Sinoval, after all. He was a symbol.
Sonovar helped raise the fallen warrior to his feet. This was not over yet. Let Sinoval and this new 'Valen' fight over this barren rock. He would be there to pick up the pieces.
It started to rain. Sonovar muttered angrily under his breath, and helped steady Kalain. They had to get out of the rain soon.
* * * * * * *
Lyta Alexander found her consciousness surfacing through the layers of her mind and she swayed, almost falling over. For an indefinite period she had been a prisoner, the vessel through which a conversation had flowed. She had not liked the experience.
He reached forward and caught her easily, holding her while she regained her balance. His hands felt cold, even through her clothing. He had discarded his gloves, she noticed abstractedly. She raised her head from his hands, and looked at his eyes. They were.... golden.
Slowly, she pulled away from him. A Minbari. Another Minbari. But this one was.... different. She could see a faint circlet of light around his head. Almost a halo, absurd as the idea was. Probably just a sign of his connection to the Vorlons. A little psychic residue of the recent manifestation.
He looked at her, his golden eyes seeming to pierce her own. She felt strangely.... open to him. "Who are you?" he whispered.
She started. She had heard that question asked countless times in her dreams, from the consciousness residing within her. She did not know the answer, and said so.
"Who am I?" he asked. She did not know that either.
But somehow she found her mouth opening, her eyes filling with light, her mind taken over again. She had time for a desperate Not again! before the alien words came out of her mouth. Before, the rush of the Vorlon within her - Kosh? - had been a tidal wave charging forward, pushing aside everything in its way. This time it was a mere trickle, a small current burrowing through the contours of her mind. This time at least she was aware of what she was doing and saying. She just could not do anything about it.
<Learn,> said the voice that was not hers from the mouth that was hers. <Obey, Past-Born. You are the future through the past. This should not have happened. Not yet. None of you is ready. You must become ready. Time is short. She is your receptacle. Learn from her. Learn of her. Be with her in all things. Obey.>
Lyta shook as Kosh's spirit left the forefront of her mind. "I really wish he'd give me some warning the next time he does that," she said feebly. "Did that make any sense to you?"
"I.... don't know.... Perhaps. Who are you?"
She grimaced. "That question again. I'm Lyta Alexander. I'm the telepath on board the EAS Parmenion. And you are?"
"Valen. At least, that's what they tell me. I.... remember.... things. But on other matters, nothing. I can understand tactics, strategies, oratory, but who I am.... what I am.... I don't know. Sometimes the only thing that seems constant is...." He looked around. "He's gone."
"Yeah, Vorlons do that." Lyta suddenly chuckled. "Here I am, talking about Vorlons as if I were the expert. Well, you heard the man. I'm supposed to.... teach you. Something. Do you have anything in mind?"
"I.... I want to walk. To see this place, this world, this people. I.... I want to see my home."
Lyta shrugged. "You're the boss. I guess. Come on. I don't know my way around here much, and I might get into trouble, but if you're with me.... I don't know. It's been years since anything made any sense at all."
"Really?" He seemed to be thinking about something. His golden eyes flashed once. "I think you might be right."
* * * * * * *
"You want me to what?"
Commander David Corwin looked at the woman before him and realised what he had forgotten a lot in recent months. Delenn might look human. She might even act human at times. But she was not human. No human would ever have an idea like that.
"The Nafak'cha is a time for remembrance. Surely, in light of what has happened, you can see the need for such a ceremony."
"I.... Look, this is crazy. I'm busy. You've helped the Captain a lot lately...." She blushed slightly, and Corwin paused before continuing. Very quickly. He did not want to know what the blush meant. "And I'm grateful. He's needed something to take his mind off everything that's been happening, but.... I'm still human. I.... I don't see why I should take part in some Minbari counselling festival."
"John asked me to ask you to come," she said softly. "We need unity between our peoples. My change was to help achieve that unity...."
"Hasn't worked very well, has it?" She flinched and Corwin immediately regretted the words, but once said....
"No," she said firmly. "It has not, but I will keep trying, and I will keep trying.... until I die. I have given my body, and I will give my life to make amends for what has been done. My people are falling apart, my world is in ashes, friends I have known all my life are dead or refuse to acknowledge me. The one hope my people have is a dictator whose method of leadership I abhor.
"But I will keep trying, because it is what I need to do. I love John, and I am doing this for him as much as for myself. Please.... you are his friend. For him, please...."
Corwin looked at her. Sincerity shone in her expression, and yet, she was still Minbari.... or was she truly Minbari any more?
The Captain had asked for him.
"Ah, Major Krantz can look after the ship for a while," he said. "I'll be there."
Her smile could have lit up the galaxy.
* * * * * * *
The Whisper Gallery was empty. The Hall of Reception was silent. The white mists of the Dreaming lapped around Sinoval's ankles as he looked at the abandoned room.
The Dreaming had survived the bombardment, somehow. The Castle of the Dreaming was located in the mountains north of Yedor, an ancient place, predating Valen, predating even the warring of the castes. It was a place few understood.
"Empty," he whispered. "I came here.... just before I left. I came here seeking answers. I did not receive any."
Kats was looking around in what might have been horror. She had never been here before. Sinoval had been here twice, and each time it had changed his life. "What was it like?" she asked. "This place.... it's dead. There's no life here."
"No, nothing but broken dreams and lost souls. Whoever named this place had a better sense of humour than many."
"Why here? Of all the places to hold a Nafak'cha, why here?"
"Where better? A place of the past, a place of the future.... Typical priestling gibberish. Still.... I can understand her reasons."
"I don't like this place."
"Nor do I. My lady.... what is wrong?"
"I.... I did not realise until I came here.... They're going to see, aren't they? All of them. They're going to see everything. All my secrets."
"I suppose that is the point. We all have secrets, my lady. They are nothing to be ashamed of."
She walked deeper into the room, the mists almost hiding her from Sinoval's view. He flicked a quick gaze back to where the two Soul Hunters stood on duty at the door. He tended to forget they were there, but they looked every bit as uncomfortable as Kats did. More so, if anything.
Sinoval breathed out. "I have many secrets, my lady. One of them in particular.... I came here to reveal. For political reasons, but that is hardly the spirit of the ceremony, is it? Very well, I must reveal to you a secret I have never told any other.
"I did not love Deeron. I have never loved anyone, and I doubt I ever will. I.... respected Deeron. I admired her. I liked her. But she saw what I would become, and she was afraid of that. If I had stopped to think, I would have been afraid of that as well.
"All my life I have sought power, always taking a fresh step towards it. I never saw the reasons why, until I went to Cathedral. I need power because only then can I do the things I need to do.
"My lady.... I was never meant to rule. There was no divine destiny, no ordination by Valen. I rule now because I made myself rule, and for no other reason."
Kats' figure came to a halt, dimly visible through the mist. "Thank you," she whispered. "It is my turn, I think.... I owe you a secret."
"Only if you feel you can. You have already given me more than I could ask of you, my lady. I would not ask you for your secrets as well."
"No.... no, you.... deserve to know. While I.... was his.... prisoner.... Kalain tortured me. He made me scream, he made me beg, he made me confess to murder, to treason. And.... I did. I told him everything he wanted to hear, praying that it would make him happy with me, for a while at least. I begged to him, I flung myself at his feet.... I even begged Kozorr to help me.
"I had always thought of myself as a strong person, but I was obviously not strong enough. Perhaps if...."
"No, my lady. It would not matter how strong you were. No one can resist torture like that. No one."
"But.... perhaps...."
"No!" Sinoval strode through the mists to her side. He gently placed his hands on her arms. "You endured, my lady. You endured because you knew that for the sake of your caste, you had to. You are one of the strongest people I know."
She smiled, and looked up at him. "Thank you, my lord," she whispered. "It appears both our secrets are out in the open."
He nodded, dazzled by the brilliance of her eyes. "It seems they are."
Sinoval stepped back from her just as Delenn entered the room. He could see her as she walked in, and he caught her momentary gasp. She had her own memories of this place, it seemed. The Starkiller was behind her, and another human behind him. Sinoval felt a brief surge of contempt. Polluting this place with humans.... Just how far had the priestlings fallen?
Delenn ignored the presence of the Soul Hunters by the door, although she could not have failed to notice them. She came further into the room, and gave a short nod of her head in Sinoval's direction. He returned it.
"Thank you for coming," she said softly.
"It was a pleasure," he replied, not insincerely.
There was a silence, as the Starkiller stepped up next to Delenn. The Soul Hunters began moving around them to stand next to Sinoval. Delenn sighed softly.
"I understand we are to begin with a secret," Sinoval said. "Each of us must share a secret we have never told to any other." Delenn nodded. "Then let me start. There is something about me you do not know.... none of you. Something I have kept secret ever since the attack on Earth."
"There are many secrets from that time," said another voice. One paternal, and old, filled with wisdom and strength. In every way the voice Sinoval could have wished for the one in whose name he had always acted. But this was not the voice of Valen, and as the false prophet stepped inside, Sinoval's face twisted into a contemptuous sneer.
"You came here, imposter?" he asked. "This is not your place. Run back to your Vorlon masters."
Delenn and Sheridan seemed surprised. Perhaps this was not their doing, then. Behind the false Valen walked another.... a human woman. Sinoval did not recognise her.
"We need nine, is that not so? A legacy from the ceremony taught to you by Valen. Now we are nine."
Delenn and Sinoval exploded at once. "We cannot have those monsters - " "Not a place for Vorlon toys - " Valen silenced them both.
"We are nine here now. This is right. This is a time and a place for secrets to be revealed, for the truth to be revealed, for many things to come to light. My secret, and yours, Sinoval the Cursed, and yours, Blessed Delenn.
"Know this: I am Valen. I am who I claim to be, and yet I am not. My secret is that once, I was human. My name was Jeffrey Sinclair."
The mists grew colder.