Something, Something. Sandy Crack (Closed)

[Lucius]

Something, Something, Sandy Crack

[Lucius]

So there I was. Standing blissfully unaware of what lay ahead of me. In the fucking desert. My former space ship, a ruin now, loomed out of the rolling sands ahead of me. Well, it was my spaceship from another dimension, not the one currently in orbit. I’ll settle on ‘paradox’ as explanation. The important fact was I was not the only one staring. Enter right excitable locals trying to get into the aft cargo hold.

“I don’t like where this is going,” I grumbled. Only ARIA heard me. She did not dignify me with a response. “Identify the source of the energy coming from the leader.”

“Runic thaumaturgy.”

“Of course it bloody is,” I spat. ARIA delivered a sharp electric shock to the temple. “I’m sorry…,” I said in half-arsed apology.

The last time I crossed runic thaumaturgy a woman called Sisal wielded it. She too presumed something of mine to be hers and had cheek enough to prove me otherwise. The burns took months to heal.

“Enquiry answered, Agent 492.” Her voice echoed in my comm.

“Are there other sources of magic?” My question was weighted. I wanted her to scan the wreckage without directly asking to locate what I was hoping was still inside. If not I was in a heap of shit. Sei Orlouge already had me by one bollock. My resolve to keep the other free was unbreakable.

“Readings indicate the presence of T-12.”

T-12 was the code for elements of the Tap. It was part of ARIA protocol to identify it and act quickly. In the future, T-12 caused fragments in space-time and fragments in space-time gave me headaches. Headaches resulted in long periods without being able to enjoy a good drink.

“Anything else?” I rose slowly. My knees creaked. Journeying from Irrakam had proven more difficult than expected. I felt old, washed up, and in need of a shower. I dipped the brim of my hat to shield my eyes from the sun and double-checked my energy packs.

“Unknown energy source in tier 7 reflector field.” She sighed. “The article was not logged in the manifold.”

Half-expecting another subtle shock to the temple, I flinched. She uploaded a copy of the Administrate bylaws on smuggling to my short-term memory instead. Bitch.

“Alright, alright, we’re not here on a normal salvage mission,” I admitted. I got guilty when sober, but I smacked my lips, longing for whiskey. “The cargo hold was carrying a neutron emitter to Alerar space.”

“Retrieval is paramount.”

“Yes, thank you Sherlock.”

I set off down the slope and clambered in and out of jagged peaks towards the ship. I had no plan to get inside because a gaggle of scavengers and enigmatic fedora wearing bombshell were in the way. I certainly had no plan how to get the emitter out of the ship and back to the rendezvous by the Zaileya River. I settled for going with ‘something, something, sandy crack,’ and began making it up as I went along.

[Alydia Ettermire]

Alydia Ettermire was fresh off the thrill of reuniting with an old friend and equally fresh off the disappointment that the artifact she'd come to Fallien for had been destroyed. She had actually been returning to port to make her way to Raiaera via Corone, as there was work to be done... but her compatriot Zaki Alash had pointed out a disturbance in the desert - something no one had ever seen before. She couldn't just let that go. It was something new, something mysterious. That called to her sense of 'must find, must have' like gold called to a lot of other beings - such as the glass spinners who were trying to break open the ship's smooth metal with their weapons and magics. So far, they had ignored her; she wasn't getting in any more than they were, but if that changed...

A gloved hand ran over the vessel's smooth metal - for Alydia had no doubts that this gleaming wreck had once carried people... a few thousand years in the future. She didn't recognize the material it was formed from, possibly an alloy of a common Althanian metal and a metal from another world, or maybe even metal and ceramic. The Book of Secret Histories told her of many things, but it only had so many pages. For each subject it mentioned, she wished for a text, rather than a few pages or a paragraph here and there.

Delicate probing of the shadows throughout the vessel told her that yes, she could steal it. Or at least a quarter of it, if she only wanted the ship. That was inadequate; there had to be things in the ship that were valuable. Things Althanas wasn't ready for. Things she could steal thousands of years before they had ever been invented!

The prospect made her itch with excitement and completely overwhelmed her discomfort at the merciless Fallien heat and the grains of sand that had sneaked into her boots, into her pockets, into her hair, between the fibers of her coat, and into other places she would rather not think about.

Her instincts screamed a question into her soul: how best to get in? These bulging things on the side probably meant propulsion. Future propulsion probably meant explosions, so she was not eager to disturb them.

H'mm.

There were a few other protrusions on the vessel, and as a bonus, if she was up and out of the scavengers' way, they couldn't attack her when she inevitably broke in. A running start and a crack of her whip swung her to a small ledge just over head-height, then a few nimble leaps and bounces took her to the top side of the ship, where she paused and admired for a second.

It had beautiful lines, despite the tacky additions for cargo space and the ravages it had seen on its journey. "There's probably a book floating around about you somewhere, isn't there? People love stories of vanished ships." Delicate footfalls took her to the crowning peak that jutted above the sand, and she crouched in front of a window. That was a chair, and that was... a control panel? She had to see it!

The window vanished at her touch and she hopped in, putting it back behind her so that the competition couldn't follow. They could have the shell if they could take it...

But what wonderful things were in here, available to her and only her?

[Lucius]

An alarm silently sounded in the ship, blinking lights lining every corridor as portent of danger. Fortunately, the speaker system was long decayed.

“I get the message,” I grumbled. I clenched my fist and cut off the signal.

As ill luck would have it, the scavengers noticed me at the same time. Beady eyes from every race found squandering in the desert settled on my scrawny self.

“Retrieval is now difficult, Agent.” Her voice turned hollow and tinny, a sign she was concentrating her processors elsewhere.

At that particular moment, sun beating down and arrows and blades emerging in the tapestry of malice, the ship faded into the background. That might have been the sweltering heat wave, though.

“Living is going to be difficult if we do not find a way to get past our friends.” I traced the edges of their weapons, the fold of their colourful garb, and the lack of teeth and general hygiene across the board. Fur, scale, and claw were all grubby, sandy, and unkempt. “Ideas?”

My knee buckled as though taken captive. ARIA possessed my motor function without my consent, her idea of progress more important than my supposed free will.

“What the fuc-?”

Before I could object further, the dynamic energy cell in my lower limbs, and the small spidery auto-bot that scrambled up my back on a command other than my own, showed me my plan of action.

Being propelled through the air at temporal velocity was never pleasant. I hated it when I instigated the process on my own merit, but being absconded in an arc up to the ship’s prow was practically criminal. The crash of my limp body against the upper metal plating of the bridge dome sounded across the valley, accompanied with the dim cries of the scavengers realising they were even further away from the contents of the ship. Their loss, my pain. The usual.

“Is that an appropriate idea, Agent?” she said. Her voice reformed, leading me to believe whatever distraction had caused her temporary insanity was over. “Access to the ship can be made through the vernal coupling on the port side of the bridge dome.”

“Oh.” I pulled myself up, put my cap on straight, and wiped the dirt off my sweat-laden cheeks. Strolling over to the bridge haphazard, boots magnetising to the metal, I did not expect to see someone tail ending it inside. “Yeah. Why not.” I shrugged, pulled my pistol, and skulked about to the access point with the schematics of the ship floating in my HUD.

“Excellent.” She went silent.

“But…” I arrived at the hatch and begin unlocking procedures. “Run any wise ideas about how to stop whoever that was inside from getting to the ‘retrieval paramount world ending device’ by me first.” Sarcasm dripped from my lips like the torrents of sweaty chemical imbalance down my spine. The cold rush of air from inside was a momentary blessing in the torrid heat. I dropped into the corridor below.

[Alydia Ettermire]

Lights guttered hesitantly on in the ship at Alydia’s first exhale, and the Alerian frowned. While the odds of survivors were always dismal at best, there had been a slim chance that they had simply holed up and were waiting for help to arrive. But the tables and chairs were scattered haphazardly about this room with its many small windows, still scattered from the crash. The carpets were stained with traces of things she didn’t recognize and didn’t care to, and the air was nearly thick and musty enough to cut.

Life support had no one to function for up until I stepped aboard. The control panel that had seemed so interesting was nothing more, on close inspection, than a method to order meals. Maybe specters would use it to order the ghosts of drinks; the ship was no longer for the living.

It was honestly a pity that all hands aboard this ship from the stars were lost. Not only for the truly tragic loss of life, but also because it just wouldn’t be as much fun if she wasn’t being pursued. Since her own abilities were one of only a handful on present-day Althanas that could breach such a vessel - the Breaker could, perhaps, if he had sufficient time and motivation, or a handful of the master smiths from Kachuck or Keldagrim - there was simply no one to challenge her.

”Even so, there is a ship to explore and I only have so much I can take and so much time before I need to return to Irrakam. Might as well treat it like a heist. Now, if I’m…. I think this is the observation deck. And if this is the type of ship I think it is, then according to The Book of Secret Histories, the mundane cargo hold is straight down, and the interesting one is…

A red hat stuck out of the door, followed by a flowing red trench coat. She moved at a run, listening for any changes in her surroundings that might indicate danger. Though she had no one to chase her, soft-soled boot black boots moved ever faster through the monochromatic halls. She was headed for treasures no one would invent for thousands of years! What glorious opportunity laid before her!

The thief skidded to a halt about halfway to her goal, where a crumpled bulkhead and a twisted corpse impeded her progress. It was impossible for her to make out what he had been. He had a head, arms and legs, but his heavy clothing and full mask concealed his race. What he’d been was obvious. The clothes were designed for space walks, the mask was for a reliable air supply… and the thrusters on his hands and feet - rather, a Limited-Range Individual Mobility Rig. She thought the future-folk called them LEMURS. She could always use another trick for a quick getaway, but stealing equipment off of corpses was a little too gruesome for her tastes.

The man had obviously been an engineer of some description, suiting up to try and fix a critical system gone wrong. He just hadn’t been fast enough or the damage had been too extensive. Sometimes accidents happened; it wasn’t necessarily anyone’s fault. That didn’t make the outcome any less terrible.

Alydia shook her head in pity at the man's fate, then pulled a small circle out of the deck beneath her feet. When nothing sparked, hissed, or leaked, she set the missing piece aside and squeezed through the hole, landing lightly on the next deck twelve feet below. The lights flickered weakly; the power to this section must have been severely compromised. Even the air, subject to the re-engaged life support systems, barely moved, and tiny particles of dust filled the hall with a thick haze. The light’s uncertainty slowed her progress; she could see well in light and darkness, but not so well in the dusk and dim.

Down another corridor, left, then right, then straight for a long way, and finally another sharp left brought the dark-skinned elf to a large locked door. Red lips curved into a smile; even from memory in a huge and hugely foreign structure, she was good with maps. No lights shone from or near the door, there was no hum of power from within it and utter silence behind it, which meant she was probably safe in taking it.

It vanished beneath her palm and blue eyes scanned the room beyond. It was nearly empty - there was just one box. Though bolts had secured it tightly to the floor at one time, the forces of the crash had ripped it loose, leaving a smaller box laying on its side in the far corner. Save for that, the room was completely empty.

The thief stepped silently into the hold, absently returning the door to its place and walking over to the small box, picking it up and sitting on the remnants of the larger one. This one had little glowing markings on its sides and seams that looked like it came apart. Ostensibly, someone who knew the code could open the box quickly, but it looked like a complex puzzle game to Alydia.

I have always loved these things.

Nimble mind worked with nimble fingers, pressing, twisting, turning, and spinning the thing in an intricate dance. The dodecahedron clicked and clacked beneath her hands, letting keen elven ears hear one part of the catch disengage and the next part lock into place. It took her a couple of minutes; even with all her wits and senses, she wasn’t able to just pop the puzzle open. Even so, it soon lay open in her hand, a shining bit of something that the Alerian didn’t recognize.

“What are you?” she murmured, holding out her hand and summoning her book. She had yet to study all of the book; maybe this was contained within its pages somewhere. Or maybe she’d just have to take it to her good friend Sintta Ilya for further study.

[Lucius]

“This is really starting to remind me of something,” I grumbled as I minced along yet another service corridor.

The ship was in bad shape. The impact had cracked the hull in half, like a back broken over an angry knee. It almost hurt to look at it, but the Administrate would no doubt put the blame for her loss on me and shunt me back to some small off-world assignment with a dreary level of diplomacy and not at all the right level of bullets, sleeping around, and scotch.

“Intruder detected.” My ‘friend’ said dryly.

“Thank you, ARIA,” I replied erstwhile. “Identify location.”

The cybernetic implant in my cornea flickered to life. I knew the schematic of the ship like the back of my hand, but the flashing beacon in the chamber two doors along the corridor was new. It had to be her. It had to be. If it was not, then I was walking into a trap and not remotely ready to start running again after ARIA tossed me off.

“Link the visual feed from security camera 92 to the internal retina screen.”

There she was. Lanky thing, all told. She had somehow managed to slip into the most secure location on Althanas that did not have a demon problem and…

“Fuck me,” I blundered. My voice, just a little too loud, echoed down the corridor. I broke into a run to try to salvage what little element of surprise I had over her.

Too late.

“She has become aware of your presence, Agent.” On fine form, ARIA turned from wistful and dry to a little too excited I was in trouble.

ARIA devices, despite their unfathomable intellect, never did quite get the subtle art of stating the obvious. They did it all too frequently, at utterly inconvenient times. My boots clanked so loud that if she hadn’t known I was coming, she did now.

“Game’s up, luv!” I roared, breaking into the room like a desperate-for-a-promotion cadet. “Freeze!”

Freeze? Who the fuck says freeze to a thief. Oh, that’s right, the idiot being bossed around by a computer program.

“Shhh…,” I started to swear. I felt the magic fill the room and then the object in her grip vanished. Opportunity lost. Profit reduced. A very big talking down pending from Sei Orlouge. Those worries were all assuming I managed to piece the timeline back together to have a home to limp home to.

“Wait…it’s you!” I bumbled. I held my hands wide, aghast. Surprise visible on my perspiring face, the fates deemed it appropriate to test my patience and knowledge of the future to their limits. This was no ordinary thief. I continued to pant and sweat and glare like a lunatic despite the notoriety of my company.

“I must warn you about the Prime Directive, Agent.”

“Oh. I mean, err…,” I tried to sound confused, as though I were mistaken. It was not hard to accomplish. “Give that back!” I said, teeth grit tight.

[Alydia Ettermire]

A scarlet smirk slashed across an obsidian face, simultaneously smug and sultry. This man had to be a future man, and he recognized her. Either she had made enough of an impact on Althanas that people still spoke, awestruck, of the impossible thief thousands of years after her death, or her plans to travel through time would succeed and she would steal from all of history!

Maybe this man had met her.

Maybe she would meet him.

"I see my reputation precedes me." The words fell from her lips, soft as silk and smooth as satin. "That is heartening, and I'd love to pick your brain. But there are rules we must follow first. If you know who I am, you know what they are, so let us begin."

A wooden doll materialized in her hand, round, bulbous, painted with a woman's face and delicate but vibrant floral patterns. She tossed it to the harbinger of the future and was out of the room before he could catch it, popping into and out of shadows like an ordinary person might hop over a small stream.

"Stay warm, jiharditalwien," she called out from the end of the corridor. "It's cold outside." Then she was gone, just a red whirl down a side hall. All that was left to Lucius was a cryptic clue.

Alydia Ettermire's rules of the chase were fairly straightforward, and she abided by them strictly. She did this for sport, after all; the rules were for everyone's protection. They also ensured that everyone was playing the same game. They were written in a slip of parchment inside the doll.

Alydia Ettermire's Rules of the Chase

1) There will be no violence in the chase. Hurt or kill me, the game is over and your item forfeit. Hurt or kill my messengers, the game is over, your item forfeit, and we are at war.
1a) Should my messengers or I inflict physical harm upon you or yours, except in the case of immediate and needful self-defense, the game is over. I will return your item and the responsible parties will report to the appropriate authorities for punishment.

2) I will provide you with up to five clues detailing where I am going next. These clues will become progressively more difficult. If you do not catch me by the fifth clue, I have won and your item is mine. If you do catch me, I will return your item and leave. If you have clues remaining, you may attempt to apprehend me or you may discontinue the chase.

Good luck and have fun, jiharditalwien.

~*~*~

Later, elsewhere

A woman in red boarded a swift ship, grinning broadly when it left the harbor. For years, she had pursued endeavors other than the brilliant capers she'd intended to bring her fame. There were lives on the line, or urgent crises. With this little diversion, she could tend to her responsibilities and have fun. She's have to thank the time traveler, if he found her.

[Lucius]

I had several thousand years of disappointment under my belt by the time I finished reading her note. Of all the times I had felt let down, this, amongst myriad humorous comeuppances, was the worst.

“She really is a complete a-”

“Channel opening with the Ixian,” ARIA interrupted. Her tone was murderous.

I bit my lip. I was alone and out of my depth. This was not how rescue missions were supposed to go. I was supposed to find what I was looking for. I was supposed to get to be the hero of the hour. Me. Not her.

“Patch it,” I replied.

“I hope you’ve found the problem, Duffy,” said a voice I knew all too well.

“As it happens, Admiral Orlouge, the wormhole was caused by the disintegration of the Ice Henge.” I had discovered this weeks ago. “I have a bigger problem at the moment.”

“More than the end of our timeline?” the Admiral replied with contempt.

I nodded.

“You remember that dark elf ‘thief’ and the foundation stone of Ixian Castle?”

I knew that he knew that I knew he knew I knew he was frowning.

“…You met Alydia?”

Bingo.

“I did not mean to bump into her. She…stole the device from under my nose.” I tried to sound convincing, but came across sarcastic and sadistic. I longed for a hip flask, and regretted leaving my cabin at sunrise. My little orbital fighter seemed luxurious now, compared to the infinite bleakness of following her through god knows where for why knows why.

“Oh Duffster…,” the Admiral let slip decorum for just long enough for me to know that he meant ‘you’re screwed’. This was me utterly screwed, as humanity’s only hope and Althanas future and past alike were royally up the sh…

“Yes, thank you, Sei.” I sighed. “If you do not mind I have to chase her down and restore the ‘balance’ you so hold dear.” I tensed my fist and cut the signal short.

Steel bulkheads as my tomb, or the scorched sands as my infinite unknown? It was a hard decision to make but I had to make it. I guess I had to follow her and play the game she so obviously, and desperately wanted to play. I had to admire her gall, at the very least. Then I could shoot her.

“Alright, then, Alydia Ettermire.” I crumbled the paper and stuffed it into my pocket. I had survived Xem’Zund. I had survived Pode. I had survived Apotheosis, and briefly not survived the Forgotten One Oblivion. Time and space had failed to obliterate the Tantalum troupe. I would be bloody damned if a stuck-up, morally-skewed thief was going to be the spiritual death of the Monkey Man.

With a twinkle in my eye, I vanished. The ship teleported me into orbit, and seconds later, the thrusters propelled me towards the location I thought, and hoped, my ‘quarry’ was waiting to further tease me to frustration.

“I hate Raiaera…,” I grumbled.

[Alydia Ettermire]

No sooner had Lucius set foot upon Raiaeran soil than the cold barrel of a gun pressed itself to the back of his skull. The sudden lightness at his hip told him it was his own gun. “Son of a…”

“It’s keyed to my bio-signature,” he started. “You can’t-” he was cut off by a bolt whizzing past his ear. The ancient Bracken let out a startled curse. That wasn’t even supposed to work on this Althanas!

“After all we’ve been through, Duffy Lucius, you should really know better than to tell me I can’t do something.” The voice was silk on steel, sultry and a touch sinister.

Lucius winced, putting his hands up and turning slowly to view the empty space behind his gun. While the owner of the voice wouldn’t hesitate to put a bolt between his eyes if he made a wrong move, she had little love of out and out murder. “...hello, Alydia.”

The famous thief’s invisibility generator rippled and faded, revealing the trademark red fedora and trenchcoat. Instead of the obsidian black of earlier, though, her skin was white as alabaster, presumably to camouflage her better in a Raiaera that still had nearly no tolerance for Alerians. Her lips, red as her outfit, were set in a scowl. “If I had stolen the neutron emitter for a simple game, there would be absolutely nothing remarkable about this day. But instead, I contracted on a cock-eyed Ixian scheme to improve the worlds and am therefore an accomplice in the destruction of reality. Why am I not surprised to find you at the center of this mess?” Each sibilant drew itself out into a serpentine hiss.

“Hey now, just a second. I would have already had the emitter if you hadn’t stolen it from me!” Lucius accused her, more than a little heat in his tone.

“I did?” The galaxy-renowned interstellar thief raised her free hand to her ear. “VILE,” she called to her ship. “Alydia zhah. Which year did I land in? And the month?” She listened for a moment, her frost-blue eye never wavering from Lucius. “Vith.”

She lowered the gun, tossing it back to its owner. “You’re in a game, and I cannot help you retrieve the item. I can tell you that you’re in the wrong place and you won’t find me if you don’t get to the right place at the right time. I can also tell you that this young me doesn’t know what she has or what’s at stake. Explain it to her, offer something as a trade, and she may be willing to call the game.” The corners of the dark elf's lips hardened, twitching downward in response to some bad memory.

She turned, trench coat rustling in the Raiaeran night and soft black boots taking her away from Lucius. In his irritation, he whipped his gun up and pulled the trigger, but instead of a sharp ch-zing! he was rewarded with a hollow clack.

Alydia chuckled, still walking away. She drew a gloved hand out of her pocket, dropping his rounds onto the ground. “You know that doesn’t work here, jihardiatalwien. And one more thing. Lil V’drin Barra has returned to this time period. He might be after the emitter as well, so you had better find my younger self before he does. Or pray that I find him first.”

Lil V’drin Barra was another thief, but also a spy and assassin whose fame matched Alydia’s own. If something valuable went missing in an impossible manner, if it wasn’t signed with Aly’s calling card, it was his work. He and she had clashed many times throughout the millennia, and when they met, one or the other of them wound up nearly dead.

He was not good news.

~*~*~

Alydia stepped out of a portal, squinting her eyes against the harsh brightness of sun on snow just a few miles north of Knife’s Edge. “Ugh.” She pulled her vlince coat more tightly around her slender frame; going from a secret island just a day out of Kithdir to northern Salvar was not an easy transition.

A woman with skin white as milk, eyes green as spring, and hair as yellow as the weak sun that did nothing to bite through the Salvic chill wrapped a fur stole around the elf's slender shoulders. “Alydia, you simply must start preparing for the weather here.”

The darkest of dark elves nodded her assent. “Next time. Has anyone been here asking after me, Lyusya?”

The pale, sharp face tilted. “No, no one. Who did you steal from this time?”

“The future.” Aly held out her prize. “Do you have any idea what it might be?”

“Why would I know the future?” The Salvic phrase implicated that only a fool would say they knew what was to be.

“Then I’ll ask Sintta when I see him. Come, let’s go somewhere warm. We have much to discuss.” The emitter vanished once more, and a chilly Alerian followed a densely-clothed Salvaran toward Knife’s Edge.

[Lucius]

The Prima Vista - Bridge
Three months prior.

“Do you ever find yourself…regretting your actions during the war?” Leopold asked. His tone was morbid. Accusation dripped thick from his tongue.

The two men stared at one another intently. Duffy, eternally on edge, hopped from toe to toe by the navigation console. Leopold, slumped into the captain’s chair, drank from a hip flask. His mood matched his attire; black and bedraggled.

“Why would I?” Duffy knew exactly why, but he was seldom one to air his dirty laundry so easily.

“Oh,” Leopold began, but trailed off. He replaced the stopper on his flask, deposited it into his pocket, and began to play with the console on the arm of his chair. Eternally distracted, the captain lived in two places at once. Both eternal battlegrounds – guilt, and title. “You know…”

“No.” The agent turned, seditious, and stared directly at his superior. Fortunately for them both, the bridge was empty and the remainder of the skeleton crew were anywhere but here. Their recent run in with the Order flagship was a blessing in disguise, even if the damage to their ship was anything but. “I do not.”

“The pistol.”

Duffy flinched. He had not expected the captain to call him out so viscerally, and so plainly. Leopold was master of few things, but soliciting the right response and the truth was one domain over which he was king.

“I shot that man because I had every belief he was about to fire upon the viceroy.” Nostrils flared.

“You. Should. Have. Known. Better!” Leopold said, half roaring, half barking. He pressed down hard on the arms of the chair, so much, his knuckles whitened. “You caused this war.”

“And you,” Duffy rebuked. He advanced, but stopped when he was twenty feet away at the centre of the bridge. He felt like he was on trial. When Leopold was in the room, he guessed he was. “You made sure you would be the one to finish it.”

---

The Noxus, Light Freighter - Orbit
Present Day.

“Something as a trade…,” I mused aloud. For all the good, for all the worth it did me, the echo drilled my failure into my head. Over. In addition, over. In addition, over. Repeating cycles of abyssal regret. My life in a phrase.

Ever since I set foot on Fallien’s blisteringly hot sands, I regretted everything I said, did, and saw. I remembered all too well how hard I avoided the island when I had been, well, considerably younger, and less pressed by the responsibilities of an entire political tour de force as I am now. Longing for yesterday, however, often got you killed in the day of here and now.

“Oh.”

My eyes widened. Realisation moments like this were rare after over six millennia of living. Things tended to seem monotonous, dull, and lifeless when you had been through them more times than most mortal men could count. Alydia, to her merit, had solicited a sober moment of excitement from me for the first time since before the war with Raiaera.

“What else would a woman who played such vicious games want, save the world?” The glint in my eye would probably have blinded me had I had the fortune of a mirror and the time to admire my devilish charm. As it happened, I did not. I disappeared. White light, bruising to form later, and a burst of adrenaline delivered to my system from cybernetic implants carried me to the skies on wings of fury.

---

The Prima Vista - Bridge
Three months prior.

“After everything we have been through, do you think I would ever just lay down and let that happen?” Leopold’s wisent glare diminished. Hatred, loathing, and regret fuelled him.

The bridge of the Prima Vista became colder. Lucius folded his arms across his chest and ceased his shuffling. Beads of sweat formed down his back, a side effect of sobering up, and a long week dodging Administrate patrols along the Raiaeran/Alerian border. He had gotten used to everyone in the galaxy wanting the ship and its crew dead. To feel the same hatred from its captain was untoward.

“You buried the fact Ruby was dying from us. How can you dare hold us accountable? We wanted what was best for the people of Scara Brae, as we have always wanted.” Lucius knew nothing else. The Tantalum Troupe had known nothing else.

“I want you to promise me one thing.”

Lucius narrowed his gaze, but nodded. He bit his lip.

“If. When you go back through the wormhole. You see an opportunity to make amends.”

The possibilities for this were endless. Lucius was not sure if Leopold meant for Eiskalt 495, or the death of his sister, or his enrolment with the Administrate. There were too many mistakes in his past to make amends.

“I cannot do what you ask if what you are asking is to save Althanas.”

Leopold laughed.

“Althanas can rot.” It had. It was. It forever would be. “I want you to find the woman that people call the Grim Fandango. Find out what she wants. Find out who gave her that chronomancy device, and stop her.”

Lucius raised an all-knowing eyebrow, and tried not to smile.

“About that…,” he said meekly.

---

The Noxus, Light Freighter - Salvar
Present Day.

“I am having trouble locating a chronographically accurate reading of her location…,” Lillith trailed off. Lucius was not sure if it was the comm. uplink, or his sister’s indecision. “But…”

“But? Lillith. The only time you say but is if something big and gribble is about to eat me, or…,”

“Or I found her.”

“Quick turn around,” he replied glibly. “Where?”

“There is a massive energy reading coming from Salvar. I’d assume Knife’s Edge, because there’s literally nowhere else worth visiting in that country during this time frame.”

Lucius stared out into the swirl of dark cloud that offered him no particular reason to want to go outside. All the same, the ship had landed, and hidden in the ruins north of the Cathedral of the Former St. Denebriel. If anyone found it, it was conveniently disguised as a rather gruesome and every bit rotten husk of a mammoth. Apparently the ARIA deemed that an appropriate disguise.

“So my hunch was right and I’ve wasted our time,” he groaned. A stretch clicked his limbs to life, and he tapped a series of buttons that initiated the decompression procedure. Soon, the side doors would open, and there would be nothing but the destitute between him and her. Cat and mouse. Bitch and bastard.

“It was nice to hear from you all the same,” she said coyly. Lucius did not look at the video screen, but he saw her sticking out her tongue in cheek vividly.

“I will be back soon, I promise.”

“Two months,” she replied casually, as if she knew his future, and before cutting off the line.

It occurred to the agent that the people who knew everything he was doing he cared about most, even if they were six thousand years in the future. He cursed, rather loudly, for not having realised this sooner, and having asked them directly. Then he realised Sei Orlouge would be all too keen to flow the Temporal Paradox Edicts and avoid anything that might, you know, change the future for the better.

“Everything that is, must be,” he mimicked. The voice was iffy, but the intent sincere and just as Sei would have meant it. Lucius rolled out of his chair and thudded to the doors as they opened with a hiss, click, and clamour. The contained atmosphere of the ship vented out into the bitter embrace of Salvar’s cold, abhorrent heart.

“They won’t miss a small time travel device or two along the way,” he prayed, stepping out to restart the pursuit of Alydia, a woman he was swift becoming fond of for all the wrong, a nemesis you love to hate reasons.

---

Salvar - Knife's Edge
Present Day.

Salvar. It was as bleak and inhospitable as I remembered. Granted, I barely set foot in the place when it existed. It felt familiar. Even after millennia, the reverence in the air was electric. It would be all too easy to fall for the charm, given the witch that led the revelry to its downfall.

“You’re intolerably hard to find,” I said, the shadow ahead vaguely feminine in form.

“Which is why you will keep searching,” came a deeper, lustful reply. The woman I assumed was Alydia was, in fact, someone entirely unknown. She, on the other hand, seemed to know to expect me. Another trap. Another trick,

“I,” I mumbled. Smooth.

“Here. Your forlorn clue.” I watched her extend a hand and another delicately lavender scented inscription. I took it, gingerly, and took several cautious steps back. I was not going to let her past self-afford the future self-vengeance for the incident in Genoa. I was now all too cautious of who knew what and what knew when about…something.

“This is a piece of paper with nothing on it,” I observed. Then I realised it was a crumpled bit of paper, and it weighed suspiciously too much for dried shit pressed to literary standard. I unfurled a corner, and connected the dots. “Oh. Thanks,” I said.

Whoever the woman was, she was quick. I looked ahead, faced only with shadows and dust; I became all too aware of the echoing silence. Forever alone, I let the paper drop to the dirty and examined the greasy gear with all too inquisitive and calloused fingers. Curious. Curious indeed.

“Now I’m confused, ARIA.”

The machine within stirred.

“About?”

I smiled. “Why I am cycling around a pit of hatred for a woman that is increasingly able to outsmart me, as well as make me smile.” I jostled the gear, to test its weight, and pocketed it. The paper it appeared was not blank after all, and I read the clue aloud as I made the return trip to my warm, comforting, and familiar cabin. The words struck me with déjÃ* vu, but I would be damned if I could work it out.

“You’ve been asking that question for far too lo-”

I interrupted.

“Far to the south is rife with elves, dark as soot or fair as light. If you seek tall, graceful spires, do not go to this city.” The chase was on.