We shuffle on the boards and we pirouette on the points. We leap into space and return with a flourish to sweep into grace or stillness. We do this upon the beats of silence and we do so upon the beats of cacophony, the music of realms. The first beat was silent; the second so thunderous worlds shuddered into being.
You know this. You have done this.
If the Original is a myth, what created the means to dance? The first clock achieved it. It commenced the measuring of chaos and thus forged the path for those who would come after. Something, you will whisper, created the first clock. Indeed, and yet it was not a god or an ageless creature that did so.
The miracle of time, listener, lies in the hands of sentience.
I am done.
RIVALEN STARED AND STARED.
The central boy flipped backwards and he blinked.
He now had the distinct feeling Elianas was correct when he claimed the clock from Danaan was not the one he needed.
The true clock was created by a mortal and it moved through time to know the meaning of measurement.
BLOOD FLOWS SLUGGISH when metabolism is curtailed and stones have no metabolism. Place your ear against a rock, however, and if you know how to listen well, you hear blood race within the confines of atoms so dense it requires extremity to break it apart.
You have seen stones shatter.
You have seen the stones’ life force bleed away as well. A river of death.
Have you heard it scream as its blood vanishes into the dust of destruction? Assumption informs in this you may still be lacking, but you have employed the agony to pull yourself through realms as you sought the means to escape into this one.
Returning to the stones of your mortal birth, penitent, you have shattered the rock of that which served to curse you.
Did you discover the horror of nightmare? Or is such terror still awaiting you? I am done.
A FROWN. STONES OF mortal birth?? Akhavar?
The fifth boy sat rigid, hands clenched into fists.
WHEN REALMS HARKED TO the advantages in measurement, a means to instil order from chaos, others followed the Original concept and became known as Timekeepers. Always there is a Timekeeper. And every Timekeeper possesses a name unique to set the ages of that name’s mastery apart from others. It is rule, listener; akin to royalty. Perceived as both royal and godliness by those far lesser.
You are aware of this, for you sought and found your name. You sought royalty also.
Control resides in a name. When a Timekeeper freely divulges a name, control passes to the one it is gifted to, but when a Timekeeper forces his true name from another, control remains his.
You have control, but freedom remains with the one who named you.
His freedom cannot now be undone. Freedom, listener, has greater influence than control. I am done.
THIS BOY, SECOND FROM last, slumped forward as well.
Rivalen desired with all his might to smite the messenger. If only he could move. It had point-blank told him Torrullin was more than he, Rivalen, could hope to be. Ha. It sounded as if these angels had chosen to side with the oh-so-charismatic Valla and had skewed their deliveries to that end.
We shall see, he fumed.
One message left.
He faced the final child.
MY NAME IS UNIMPORTANT, listener; I am a vessel placed and no more. Please do not speak; your task is to listen. We begin.
Mine is a message of hope. Mine is a message of despair. In hope there is despair, and in despair hope. A witness is imperative for the telling of events into future time and yet a witness can remove the ability to act freely. Your witness failed you, did he not? No one curtails you now, for you have no witness.
True destiny lies only in loneliness, listener. True destiny is personal, without witnesses. What, therefore, is your true destiny, the one no one or thing anywhere across all time is aware of?
Penitent, is it not perhaps your fate to know anonymity? For you, despair is attaining it; hope is creating a realm of witnesses. All must know you. Hope is striding through time unchallenged; despair is your failure to attain destiny.
A final prompt, hark to sacred space. It is denser than the strongest stone, it bleeds profusely. It reveals only truth. I am done.
RIVALEN DISCOVERED HIS motor function returned as the final boy crumpled.
Sacred space. What did it mean by sacred space?
He bent his head to stare at the bright earth. Sacred space. Witnesses. Hope or despair?
This messed with his sanity. Grinding his teeth, he stood. Giving the angels a dismissive glance, he paused. He could swear the way they fell revealed a word. Squinting, he attempted to read what amounted to a final message. Was this how Torrullin found his name?
He straightened as the word that was also a name seared into his mind, his memory, his rage and his blood.
No.
Swirling away, he strode into the ruined city of Erithor.
He would destroy the Dome, but not for a master mechanism that was no longer the first clock as he had believed.
No.
He would do so to remove every pathway to success for this age’s true aspirant Timekeeper.
The word was Tristan.
Chapter 58
The living ever desire the return of their dead
~ Aran, Druid ~
Akhavar
Mountain city
“ERITHOR, TORRULLIN. It was the first place that came to mind,” Quilla said as Torrullin bent over Chaim.
Around them the remaining Kaval waited in silence.
On slabs in the shadows, the mortal remains of the immortals Jonas and Erin. Elianas currently moved in those same shadows. Tristan shared his attention between the two, hoping the Danae could do something as well.
Sparing Elianas an enigmatic glance, Torrullin placed his hands on Chaim’s forehead.
“Rivalen will see the statues,” he murmured.
“He must have seen them the last time he was there,” Quilla shrugged.
Torrullin briefly looked at him. “Quilla, I hear something in your tone.”
The birdman sighed. “I hope he hears messages too.”
Frowning, Torrullin concentrated on the old man under his hands. He set aside the questions Quilla’s statement raised. Healing required full attention.
Silent moments ticked by, measured by the waiting heartbeats there. Chaim spluttered and his legs jerked. He sat up, drawing in a shuddering breath. A sigh moved through the small chamber Tristan had brought them into for privacy.
Torrullin straightened and gripped the old man’s shoulder. “You made it, my friend.”
“Seems so,” Chaim murmured. “God moves in mysterious ways. Praise be He made one with your amazing healing hands.” He blinked. “Thank you.”
Torrullin smiled and released him. He beckoned the birdman to him. As Amunti and Shenendo approached Chaim, he said, “First off, Quilla, you were meant to make you choice. Either in the thick of things or finding peace on Avaelyn. Does this mean you choose this realm?” He said it quietly, for the others were not to know.
Quilla squinted up. “For the same reason you are now speaking in such a low tone, I am still visible. My sudden disappearance would raise too many eyebrows, although not at first, I realise. I do vanish quite often. I have, however, temporarily transferred my worldly goods to a cottage at the Healer’s Facility.”
“You have worldly goods?” Torrullin teased.
The birdman pursed his lips. “Some. I shall leave this behind when the time to do so arrives.”
Torrullin nodded and lifted his head to Elianas’ shadows when a sound erupted from that quarter. A sigh, the hopeless kind. “Messages, Quilla?”
A decisive nod. “Indeed.”
“Rivalen will know what we know.”
“I believe he will hear different messages.”
“Based on what?”
“Torrullin, I have come to the realisation that this universe is somewhat prej
udiced in your favour. Do not argue; you must have sensed it. Rivalen will not hear what you heard.”
“I hope you are right,” Torrullin muttered, and made his way to Elianas.
When he got there, the dark man gazed at him directly. “This is new to me, and I am uncertain. I have the distinct feeling, though, when it comes to individuals, I am unable to restore life to multiple forms. A blanket raise is easier, the kind required after destruction or catastrophe, when many have passed on.”
“There is logic in there. Akin to undoing an event. Maybe do one at a time then?”
Elianas shook his head. “I tried that.”
“What are you saying?”
Elianas shifted his gaze over Torrullin’s shoulder. Tristan closed in. Waiting until Tristan was with them, he said, “I am able to restore life to only one. I am not like the Lady of Life, unfortunately, able to raise individually. The Danae gift is a singular restoration at a time. In the case of catastrophe, death is synchronized, therefore life’s return is simultaneous. Here death occurred separated.”
Tristan closed his eyes. “Then we must choose who will live again? I do not know if I can do so.”
“Jonas,” Amunti murmured.
His leader jerked around. The Kaval, including Chaim, had moved in. “Why Jonas?” he snapped out.
“We love Erin, but Erin was alone. Jonas has a brother,” Amunti stated. “If we have to choose, then there is the criteria.”
Torrullin pinched the bridge of his nose, saying not a word.
Elianas, cheeks taut with tension, waited.
Silent moments ticked by again, this time measured in stares among each other.
Finally Tristan nodded. “Jonas.” Swallowing, he gazed at Erin and touched his forehead.
Wordless, Elianas went to Jonas’s side. He lifted the man’s hand and murmured inaudible words. Nothing happened. Elianas shouted the words. Nothing happened.
Torrullin strode to his side. “It may be that he needs healing as well, given how he died. We do it together.”
Elianas glanced at him, torment and appreciation vying for supremacy in that gaze. “We do it together, yes.”
“On three,” Torrullin murmured. “One, two, three …”
They touched Jonas at the same time. Elianas took his hand again, while Torrullin rested fingers on the man’s forehead. As Elianas murmured his words once more, Torrullin concentrated on healing.
Jonas groaned and jerked into an upright position. “Hey!” he shouted.
Laughter erupted.
Elianas leaned onto his hands as the man clambered off the slab and joined his colleagues. His breathing was shallow.
“Fuck,” he said, but only Torrullin heard him.
LATER THEY WANDERED THE narrow path along the aqueduct.
Clear blue water soothed unsettled psyches.
“I do not understand this power yet,” Elianas muttered, obviously flaying himself with his failure.
“Because it is the realm of a Daywalker, Elianas. We are too judgemental.”
“’We’?”
“Men. We think differently to women. They see life with compassion, seeking the soul, while we judge actions. It makes us less effective.”
“I guess.”
“Your power isn’t about raising the dead. It is about having the ability to do so when need is imperative.”
“Meaning?” Elianas came to a halt. Bracing legs apart, he stared at Torrullin.
“You think I have the right answers here?” Torrullin frowned. “I merely sense this. Put it this way. We are engaged in battle, but someone we rely on to help us win it, dies. An arrow takes him, something. You have the power that will bring him back, because the need exists to have him returned. Something to that effect.”
Elianas crossed his arms. “That is judging according to our whims.”
Torrullin offered a ghost of a smile. “Told you we are less effective.”
Elianas relaxed. “You have a point.” He continued walking. “I do not like this power.”
“I would not either.”
“I wish Erin …”
“Elianas, regret cannot bring her back.”
They moved on together.
Kalgaia
TEROUX, AFTER WALKING MANY sals in winding roads and byways through the city of Kalgaia, eventually came to a halt before the Danae Guild Hall.
The city was even more stunning than the parallel they wandered through when in the Time Realm. Seeing it in this reality caused a glow of happiness inside. Teroux, despite his contrary nature, adored beauty and life’s treasures. Kalgaia was treasure indeed.
The Guild Hall, though, spoke directly to his soul.
The striking black stone seemed to absorb his essence, while the entrance beckoned him into an embrace. This was Elianas past and present.
He entered.
The long passage served to echo his careful tread, and he regarded it as the heartbeat of the building. Entering the domed space, he was transported. The amber light was akin to stepping into sunshine and the creepers adorning the pillars proved to him how alive the space was with nuance.
Yes, he could see Elianas thriving here.
He grimaced when he realised he was not alone. Two Elders sat whispering together on one of the lower tiers beyond the pedestal.
Gazing at the space in its entirety, he saw the Dome. Tristan had mentioned there were parallels, and now he understood why he said so. Pity he could not appreciate this place in private.
Nodding at the Elders, he wandered over to the pedestal, intrigued to see whether there were lights there akin to the four for the Dome’s console. There were not. He discovered he was disappointed.
Moving on, he stood between various pillars and did garner a sense of sacred ogives. Here the life in the vaulted arches came from the living plants; in the Dome the stone itself contained life. Yet it felt the same. Teroux acknowledged here there was Knowledge, Sorcery, Communion and Recognition. It was inherent in the space, therefore the pedestal did not require a physical presence.
He noticed one of the Elders rise, and Teroux swiftly turned and left. Right now he did not need the words of others.
The sun was setting over Akhavar as he left the Guild Hall. A giant shadow blotted out the scarlet glows in the heavens.
Teroux’s heart knocked wildly in his chest.
“You surrendered your inner desires, Teroux,” Rivalen murmured. “I thought you would find your backbone, but clearly not.”
“What do you want? You cannot harm this city.”
“I am aware Kalgaia is safe, as bloody backwater Avaelyn is now protected. I am not here for destruction. I am here for you.”
“Why? I made my choices. You are not among them.”
“Yet I hear how frightened you are. Your heart is loud, Teroux Valla.”
Teroux brushed past and strode into the city. “Go away. Here is nothing for you.”
“You were meant to be my witness, Teroux. Always the Timekeepers are made up of two. Together we could have ruled this universe, but you bowed under Valla pressure and now I have lost my witness.”
Teroux jerked around. “What are you talking about? Witness?”
“Come, you must know the legends. Recently some of them were made new again.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Adagin and Ixion - you must know of them. Yes? Of course you do. Tarlinn and Neolone? Ha, you know of them also. I admit I am somewhat lost regarding that dual connection. A newer tale, obviously, one after my time. Eurue and Immirin? Have you heard of them? No? That one is known to me, of course. Considering Immirin was my mother.”
Teroux gaped. “The Lorin ruler was your mother?”
“You are somewhat out of touch. Tell you what. Walk with me and I shall tell you of Immirin and her Eurue, while you tell me of Tarlinn and Neolone. No strings. None of this is a secret; you will not betray anyone in sharing this knowledge.”
“I do not trust you.”
“Why?”
“When you alter the dynamics of a situation, Teroux, you also change the expected outcome. Have you, point of fact, made the right choices? Will your change of heart not serve to create the chaos you now seek to prevent? Boy, you need to make informed choices, not those based on family loyalty.”
Bristling at the term ‘boy’, Teroux strode away.
“Eurue was a Valla, did you know that?” Rivalen called out. “He was also my father.”
Teroux stopped, although he did not turn.
“I am Valla, yes,” Rivalen murmured, closing in. “As such, some of that Valla loyalty you now hold aloft should at least extend to listening to what I have to say.”
Teroux turned, shoving his hands into pockets. “So talk. I am listening.”
Rivalen inclined his head. “Very well. Eurue was a name given a legend, but he was in fact Jacastu, Nemisin’s son, the second Vallorin. Wait. Listen. Jacastu went back in time and there he discovered Immirin and I was the result.”
Teroux shrugged. “And? What am I to learn from this?”
“Jacastu went back in time, Teroux. Thus was another set of Timekeepers born. I am not merely the product of a lengthy travel through numerous realms; I am the son of Timekeepers and I have the blood of your royalty.”
“And that makes you special, I assume.”
“It does, yes.”
Shaking his head, Teroux made to continue walking.
“But my parentage is not my real point,” Rivalen said swiftly. “Immirin and Jacastu were dual Timekeepers, although their rule transpired in different eras. They were also each other’s witnesses.”
Teroux ceased moving away.
“Adagin and Ixion were witnesses for each other. One can even say that Torrullin and Elianas do the same for each other, which makes them prime Timekeeper candidates. Both of them. You were meant to be my witness, Teroux, but we shall let that pass for now. Tell me about Tarlinn and Neolone.”
Lore of Sanctum Omnibus Page 240