<No.>
"She does not understand. Her ways are.... different from yours, from ours.... She is useless to you."
<She is ours.>
There was a sudden motion at Delenn's side, and she turned to see Ivanova dart forward, pushing Neroon aside. The warrior was clearly caught off balance, and he stumbled.
"Remember me?" cried Ivanova. "You promised I'd be safe!" As she spoke she raised her gun, pointed it directly at the Shadow, and fired; once, twice, three times....
Its roar filled Delenn's mind, and she nearly fell. Struggling to maintain her balance, she looked up and saw the Shadow move forward. It was clearly wounded, but it still moved with a grace and speed that surprised her, that seemed so effortless, almost beautiful. It bore down on Ivanova, who was on her knees, her mouth open in a silent scream, her eyes closed.
Without thinking, without bothering to remember all that had happened between the two of them, Delenn ran to Ivanova's side, throwing herself in the way. The Shadow hesitated, its head twitching slightly as it surveyed her.
<You are ours.>
"No," said a firm voice. It was Neroon. He was standing tall, holding a fighting pike. There was something strange about it. The design was unusual. It looked so old, and yet it shone with a dark power.
"The third betrayal of my oath," he whispered, his voice solemn. "Now my doom can take me."
He moved forward, plunging the pike into the Shadow's side. This time there was no howl, no scream, no attack. The First One simply fell.
"Come," Neroon said to Delenn and Ivanova. "It is not dead. We must get to your friend."
"He's.... here.... somewhere," Ivanova muttered. "I.... this way!"
Delenn looked at Neroon tenderly. "A third betrayal," she whispered. Warriors had spoken of the significance of the third betrayal for as long as she could remember, but she had never known what it meant. It was a secret thing, whispered only amongst themselves, in tones of horror and despair and terrible, terrible sadness.
"It does not matter," he said, lying. "I have made my choices, each and every step of the way. I believed in you, I believed in Ha'Cormar'ah G'Kar, and I believed in them. Come.... we must leave here."
"It's this way," Ivanova repeated, heading off along a darkened corridor. It was leading downwards. Neroon at her side, Delenn followed.
The caverns of Z'ha'dum closed in after her, and the very planet itself seemed to tremble.
Chapter 4
The oldest being in the galaxy had been waiting for a very long time. He had come here originally to speak to his children, and to try to help them to understand. None of his other children had, but he had hoped beyond all hope that these would.
They had not.
However, he remembered the way the planet had seemed to react to his setting foot on it. There had been a tremble, and then a soft whisper. As he sometimes did, he had experienced a revelation of the days yet to come, of a crucial change in the endless war, of someone who would come to help end the combat.
Someone who would come here. There would be a meeting here, a meeting that would change the galaxy forever, and herald the beginning of the end times for him.
And so he had remained behind. The children who lived here had been overjoyed at this, perceiving it to be an honour. He had sighed at their lack of understanding, and had resolved to spend as much of the time as he could trying to teach them the truth that they had long since forgotten.
But he had forgotten a crucial truth as welclass="underline" the universe is the master of time, not any beings forged of its soul. He had deluded himself into believing that, because he was immortal, he had all the time he would ever need.
War had come to this world, and the children here had been forced to flee. They had begged him to come with them, but he had refused. He had wondered idly if the meeting he had foreseen was nigh.
Alas, he had been wrong. The other children, the Vorlons, had come here, winning their phase of the war, winning the hearts and souls of those even younger who would be led by them for the next thousand years. They understood even less than those who had left Z'ha'dum.
Only one of them seemed even to want to understand. Its name was Kosh, and it had come to him, to talk and to learn. It had learned, something at least, but then it had left, ready to go back into the galaxy.
The Shadows had returned of course, and he could feel that the war was starting up again, as it had countless times since the beginning.
This time, though, he could sense that things were different. The ancient Cathedral had risen again, and the Well of Souls had chosen a mortal to be its next keeper. The oldest being in the galaxy remembered both, and dared risk a smile in memory.
The other First Ones.... they were moving, preparing. They could also sense that something was changing. They had tried to talk to him, only to be politely rebuffed. He was still waiting for the one who would come to him.
And now someone was here.
A choice would have to be made, of course. He wondered what the decision would be.
His wait was almost over.
"I have learned a great deal since I last met one of your people. I have seen much, and done much.
"I am not afraid of you. I am not awed by your power. I am not intimidated by your voice. I do not tremble at your footsteps."
Sinoval raised Stormbringer and extended it. The air seemed to crackle around it. He thought he saw the Vorlon flinch.
"This can hurt you. Forged with fire, forged with fury, forged with the essence of myself within it. It can hurt you. I can hurt you.
"You sent Delenn to her death. You tried to erase all records of this, but you failed. I have a message from her. Tomorrow I will show it to the Council of this United Alliance. Let them see what you are, and what you plan.
"Your day is done, yours and all of your foul race. I will break you."
The Vorlon's eye stalk swivelled and looked directly down upon him.
<You do not understand.>
"But I do. You are one of the First Ones, a race older than almost anything we can hope to understand. You are millennia in advance even of we Minbari. You are powerful, ancient, possibly even immortal. You think you know all there is to know. You are the masters of order, the keepers of stability and stasis and discipline."
Sinoval smiled softly.
"There are older ways than yours, Vorlon. There are paths far darker than any you have ever trod. There are riddles you have never heard, and questions that you cannot answer.
"I am not afraid of you. I will destroy you.... each and every one of you."
<We do not fear you.>
"You should."
The Vorlon looked at him, its eye stalk moving slowly. A glowing, golden light began to emanate from it.
<Leave this place. Leave the thoughts of mortal beings. They are not for you.>
Sinoval chuckled. "I was going to tell you the same thing," he remarked. "Pray to whatever Gods you worship that we do not meet again. The next time we do, I will crack open that armour of yours and turn the light within you to darkness.
"Do you understand me?"
<We do not fear you.>
Sinoval turned and left. He could feel the voices in the Well of Souls rise in concern, but he ignored them. He had nothing to fear from the Vorlon. Nothing at all.
Corwin sensed something was wrong from the instant he set foot inside the compound. He couldn't explain it as anything other than instinct, which irritated him no end. He just had a feeling that something was happening.
Ambassador Sheridan showed the two of them into a small but comfortable waiting room, while he went off to get Delenn. Corwin looked around at the chairs, the desk, the pots of tea, and was struck by the complete absurdity of it all. He had not been sure what to expect on the homeworld of the enemy, but it had not been this.