Time Enough

[Call me J]

Jame had not paid much attention to the interactions between the ice elementals and the two other men, and it had taken him as a matter of surprise that he was now asked to follow the old man. “This Damon trusts me even less than some weird messenger,” he thought irritably. The young half-dragon wondered if he wasn’t still being punished for letting the messenger girl through. With a sigh, he obliged Damon, thinking that everything else was moving far too quickly.

Glad that Damon had provided him with a sudden bit of cover, Jame moved after the old man. The young half-dragon supposed that he was moving stealthily, but twigs snapped underneath his feet and lower branches brushed underneath his tall wings. However, the old man seemed to show little concern, and Jame took that as a sign that he had little to fear.

As the man lead Jame out of the forest and onto a beach, Jame realized that he no longer had Damon’s magic protecting him. The half-dragon wondered how long he hadn’t noticed this, but even now, the old man gave no indication that he knew he was being followed. Jame darted behind some brush, dried leaves rustling as he moved, but at least, the half-dragon was concealed again.

Jame maintained his position as he watched the old man move into a house nearby. It was a fairly sparse house, not particularly impressive, especially to someone like Jame who had been bequeathed a small cottage in Knife’s Edge. “Not even an inch of paint on the place,” the fortunate half-dragon thought. “You’d have thought an old man could have saved his money better. If I already have a good place, you’d think everyone else would...”

The beach was a bit more populated than the rest of the area, but Jame moved out of the foliage once the old man had walked into his home. Jame barely noticed the way that a few children stared at him with their mouths agape, and didn’t consider that anyone would find it suspicious that he was walking into a home that he wasn’t invited. “I should be able to take care of this here,” Jame thought. “The old guy is probably so old that he doesn’t have hearing anymore. Once I find him in here, then I’ll come back to Damon.”

Jame couldn’t help but feel proud. He barely considered what his original objective was, now he just wanted to return to Damon and the red-haired girl with a feeling of accomplishment. While Jame had never considered himself to be the best in combat before, nor did he ever aspire to be such a warrior, the half-dragon didn’t like the idea that he was thought of as any less than he was. In perhaps no mind but his own, there was nothing Jame couldn’t accomplish, and trailing the old man would be yet another example.

When Jame opened the door to the house, he realized it was but a one-room home. By now, if the old man hadn’t noticed him already, Jame would soon be found. There was a white cloth separating the room into two halves, and there was a silhouette behind it.

“Found you,” Jame said triumphantly as he unsheathed his short sword and headed straight for the curtain. “You’re going to tell me everything you know...”

Suddenly, Jame heard the sound of a flintlock hammer being pulled back. The young half-dragon turned around to see the business end of a flintlock pistol, with the old man pointing the weapon straight at him.

With a sour voice, the old man uttered only one phrase. “You have to be the stupidest person alive.”

[Karuka]

It was fair to say that Karuka was much better equipped than Jame to travel stealthily in the woods. After all, she'd been forced to survive on her own merits for better than a year now, and much of her time had been spent in forests of various description. On top of that, she'd grown up in a forest bordering a meadow. There was nothing unusual about this terrain under her bare feet, and so she made no more noise than traveling through it than a whispering wind would.

She wondered what the point of all this was, and why was she even here? She'd been asked, simply enough, to deliver the box. She'd done that. Why more on top of it? What was the point? Seven years in the past she hadn't even known about Althanas; she'd still been under Calhoun's roof and hating every moment of it. At least, that was seven years in her past.

She didn't know what that meant for Althanas. Maybe Althanas didn't even exist in time, at least not as she understood it.

She felt an odd tingling on her skin as she moved out of range from Damon, and she made herself focus, keeping the dense trees between herself and her quarry. As they drew ever closer to the beach, the soft dirt was dotted with more small rocks, and the mighty oaks and hemlocks gave way to slender young pine. A scent wafted through the air, one she recognized all too well as the ocean. If she strained her ears, she could hear it, too.

The man she was following had gently pointed ears and a slender body, and he walked the forest with a sort of aloof confidence. Through the trees, Karuka was able to keep track of him often by sight of his thick golden hair alone. He traveled swiftly, as though he had a destination and was more eager to get there than make certain he wasn't being watched. Then again, how often did someone come out of the future to follow you around, especially if she didn't know you?

The sound of waves crashing on sand got gradually louder as the thick, salty smell got more and more distinct. Finally, there was a break in the trees, revealing a flat grey sky that still held no hint of precipitation, and flaxen sands buffering against waters so dark they could be purple. From what she'd heard of Homer's Illiad from an old Jew back on Earth, this was a "wine-dark sea."

The half-elf left the cover of the forest and made his way to a tiny hut that stood against a particularly large boulder. It seemed to have been made of unfinished driftwood and tacked together almost haphazardly, but the Irish lass could tell that it had been securely caulked and was probably weatherproof. She hadn't noticed it until her mark had approached it, so well did the weathered grey of the wood blend with the slate blue of the rock. Through the small window, she saw him grab a large roll of parchment, likely a map, and she started lowering herself to the ground to get a better look at him. There were a few more huts near here, but Karuka didn't see anyone about, and she'd rather not be noticed by her quarry.

A sudden "POP!" from behind her caused the red-head to whirl around sharply, lowering her staff into a defensive position. Looking back at her was a raven-haired Elf with dark eyes and an open book, looking just as surprised to see her as she was to see him.

"Excuse me," he said after a moment of tense silence. "You are not Jame, but I suppose you shall suffice. My name is Tura Preylor. May I have a word with you?"

[INDK]

Damon followed after the ice elemental carefully. The veteran soldier was an experienced tracker, and as he followed the ice elemental deeper into the forest, he was practically silent. Damon was so experienced, it seemed as if the foliage moved away from his body so as not to make a sound. Still, there was need for caution. Powerful magicians could often sense the presence of other magic in the air, and Damon knew that his efforts were using a substantial amount of magic.

Still, the ice elemental seemed to have no knowledge of Damon, though the wary creature did look over his shoulder a few times. Every time, Damon was nowhere to be seen and as quiet as a mouse. The veteran soldier had done such a good job, he hadn’t even left behind a drop of sweat, let alone a footprint.

Eventually, Damon watched from the branch of a tree as the ice elemental darted into a cave. “Shit...” Damon hissed lightly. He wondered if he had been detected. Caves represented one of the classic ways of capturing a spy. All the ice elemental would have to do was wait in the darkness and jump Damon from behind. Still, Damon knew he couldn’t afford to wait. The cave might have been a tunnel, in which case he would have to follow. It was a classic, but effective trap. That was of course, if it was a trap in the first place.

Since he knew that caution would be necessary, Damon hummed a song for panoramic vision quietly, so that he could check the exterior outlay of the land. There was no indication that there was any way out of the cave but through the entrance the ice elemental had taken. The outlay of the land offered a suspicious picture, the stone cave was one of the few areas so elevated on the entire island, and while the small mountain was high, it seemed suspiciously low enough so as to be able to blend in with the trees.

Immediately, Damon realized that he had not been detected. This cave was meant as a hiding place, perhaps it was even artificially made. Given the black magic that he knew was going to be taking place in Peligrino Island, it seemed quite likely that all the spells would be taking place here, far away from the populated perimeter of the island.

Damon quickly descended from the tree and moved into the cave silently. The layout of the cave itself was not conducive to hiding; other than the darkness there were few stalagmites or rocks under which he could hide. However, the ice elemental still didn’t seem to notice him, Damon could tell by the way that the strange creature had settled down at a makeshift table and had begun a ritual that was a precursor to a spell.

Without a moment’s hesitation, Damon closed the gap on the ice elemental, and with a well placed punch to the temple, knocked his foe unconscious. Grabbing ropes that were likely going to be used in the ceremony, Damon tied the ice elemental's arms to his legs, thinking it was unfortunate that he lacked anything to tie his captive to. With ice magic, Damon didn’t know how long the bonds would last, but he knew it was a risk he needed to take. There was information that he needed.

The golden orb suddenly lit up the sky. “Kill him,” it said. “He plans to destroy Peligrino Island.”

Damon shuddered. Immediately, his gaze began to flit between his instructions and the ice elemental before him. The veteran had obeyed every command up until now, but suddenly, the orb was asking him for something that he felt he couldn’t deliver.

“I need answers here...” Damon thought. For a moment, he hesitated.

“Kill him now,” the orb insisted. “Use fire!”

Damon, unsure, merely held his ground.

[Call me J]

Jame could practically feel the cold steel of the flintlock barrel on his skin as he spoke. There were a rush of emotions running through him- embarrassment, anger, confusion, fear, but the young half-dragon knew he needed to block them all out. He had gotten into the mess he was in now because of how he had let his emotions get the best of him, and if he didn’t think fast, he would return to Damon a failure- if he returned at all.

Nervously, Jame found his voice. “You... you want something?” he managed. Jame hated the way his voice sounded. It was weak throated and it squeaked. It was unbecoming of the situation.

“You can tell me what you’re doing here,” the old man replied. “A genius like you doesn’t do something without orders...”

Staring at the edge of oblivion should have made Jame cautious, but the fact was, the young half dragon was too stupid to be careful. He should have thought about all the things he still stood to lose, but instead, remained focused on what he had already lost- and hoped to regain. “If I get through this... Damon will know I’m tough,” Jame thought. “He’ll have regretted sending me after the old man...”

“I- I can’t....” was all Jame muttered. Though he was brave in his head, the rest of his body wouldn’t comply.

The old man sneered in a vile way that suggested that he was pleasantly surprised by that response. “I could torture you kid...” he said. “People would hear your screams, but they wouldn’t come to save you. They like me too much in this town. You’ll just scream and scream till your friends come for you, and then I’ll know exactly who they are. Save yourself the trouble.”

“N-n-n-no,” Jame stammered, his lip quivering with fear. His eyes had begun to water, and the complete helplessness of his position was beginning to sink in. Just about lost for ideas, Jame could barely find his knees as the old man tied his hands behind his back. The young half-dragon hoped desperately for some kind of intervention, up until that point every danger he had faced had been accompanied by a savior.

This time though, no one came for him, and nothing intervened. “Turn around,” the old man said. Jame complied. A moment later, he was kicked between his wings and fell down to the ground. The half-dragon tried to struggle, but soon enough his hands and legs were tied to each other right between his wings. Using his firebreath would have been meaningless because his face was pressed up against the ground.

“Want to answer questions now?” the old man asked. The tone suggested there was only one right answer.

Still, Jame didn’t know how to reply.

[Karuka]

Preylor led Karuka through the woods at a rapid march, his motions in his dull pants and shirt awkward, as though the fabric restrained him from a more flowing gait he was wont to adopt. He seemed to have a definite knowledge of where he was going, for he never paused nor stopped to regain his bearings. He spoke to her rapidly, with a precise and cold voice that nonetheless retained a melodic quality.

"I have little time here in the past, Karuka Tida, and much to explain. You will walk and you will listen, and if you have any questions remaining after I leave you, Damon will have to answer them himself."

Karuka was about to ask Preylor if Damon was the name of the man whose mission it was to come to the past, but she was given no chance to speak, for the scholarly Elf spoke again after ducking under a low-hanging branch.

"Damon believes that he was brought here by one of my portals. He was not. An Enarlin mage asked you to deliver his portal, instead, in order to destroy the universe."

He glanced over at Karuka, seeing the confusion sparkle in her bright blue eyes.

"I see that you do not understand. Into this grove."

To their right was a thick cluster of hazel trees, and hidden within the center of the grove were a pair of small boulders. Preylor sat on one and directed Karuka onto the other, resuming his tale.

"You saw the ice elemental pass by with the young half-elf and the old man, did you not? You were sent after the half-elf, Jame Whitizard was sent after the old man, and Damon Kaosi took it upon himself to follow the Elemental. This Elemental is one of a few beings for whom time does not have meaning, for he does not exist within time, merely within space. From what you perceive as the present, he could next appear a thousand or a million years in the future, or in the past. His destruction would have such an impact upon the chronology of the universe that everything as we know it would cease to exist. Do you understand?"

Karuka blinked a couple of times, trying to process everything that had been said. Preylor spoke in terminology that she had never encountered before, and she was having difficulty translating it into words she could understand. Her lips scrunched up and slid to the side, and her fingers tapped against her knees. Preylor had despaired of ever getting his message across to the girl before he had to return to his own time when she spoke.

"So, th' ice creature can be killed, but 'tis ay important that he is not, because if he is, everythin' will be destroyed."

Preylor sighed in relief, standing and starting to walk with her again.

"Close enough. Tell that to Kaosi, and tell him that Preylor sent you. Perhaps you may yet do good after all, for one that was never to be here in the first place. Now, do not bide any time, one second wasted might change the fate of the universe."

He reached into his vest, pulling out what appeared to be a small golden watch and placing it in the palm of her hand.

"This will lead you directly to him. Hurry, Karuka Tida. It is in your hands now."

As Preylor withdrew his hand, his tall, willowy frame faded, and then slowly vanished, leaving the red-headed Irish lassie alone. She opened the cover of the watch to see that it was more a compass, although instead of pointing north, it pointed somewhere to the northeast.

An airde tuath ear...'twould be hard going. Faster to go tuath and then swing ear.

That decision made, Karuka started running north, the long legs she'd inherited from her mother and the height she'd inherited from her father coming together to give her the advantage of speed. Each stride took her over more ground, and as she ran, she reflected on Tura Prelyor's words. One sentence in particular stood out to her.

You were never supposed to be here in the first place.

If I was ne'er to be here, then how am I here? Why did th' pendulum swing this way? Chance? What if th' gods really did make a mess here? It is right t' fix it?

She stumbled slightly as she crested over a hill, and stopped short as she caught sight of people. She had come to a place where people lived. The device pointed to one particularly shabby hut, and Karuka walked casually toward the window. Although she was a strange sight, no one seemed to pay her much mind. She was still human, after all.

Through the window, she could see the old man pointing something threateningly at a prone figure on the floor, a gleam of dull sadism in his eyes. She couldn't see who he had on the floor, but she figured it was probably the young half-dragon, and cast her eyes around for something she could use. Picking up a rock, she took a few steps closer until she was within a stone's throw of the elderly man and hidden from any potential eyes by a large tree.

Finally, she answered her own question.

Ay. If th' gods ha' made a mess, 'tis best t' fix it.

With that, she threw the rock, aiming for the old man's head.

Translations

"So, the ice creature can be killed, but it's very important that he isn't, because if he is, everything will be destroyed."

>>>A north-easterly direction...it'd be hard going. Faster to go north and then swing east.<<<

>>>If I was never [meant] to be here, then how am I here? Why did the pendulum swing this way? Chance? What if the gods really did make a mess here? Is it right to fix it?<<<

>>>Yes. If the gods have made a mess, it is best to fix it.<<<

((right, like always, you want it changed, PM me. If it's good, feel free to bunny Karu freeing Jame.))

[Call me J]

Jame didn’t see the rock. His face was buried in the floor. The dust tickled up his nose, making it hard to breathe, especially as his lungs were panting as if they wanted to get what little use they would still be afforded before a bullet stilled them forever.

Faced with death, all the sense of entitlement and bravado melted away from the young half dragon like snow in the summer heat. He was bare, wounded, sore and defeated with nothing he could do but pitifully plead for his life.

“Just please... don’t hurt me.... please,” Jame managed, only to have his desperate cries answered by a sudden thud. Jame cringed. A second later, the pistol went off.

It was a long time before Jame realized he was alive and mostly unhurt. Next to him now lay the old man. There was blood dripping out from the old gray skull, dripping down the face as the result of the throw of a rock. The pistol, once pointed at Jame, now lay smoking in the old man’s unmoving hand.

Relief passed over the half-dragon like a blanket, and he suddenly felt uncomfortable within his own body. The entire experience had been indescribable; he had been tested to the limits of what beliefs he had, and after everything but a primordial desire to live had been stripped from him, somehow managed to maintain.

The experience had been the kind of ordeal that would have given a veteran warrior reason to pause, and thus Jame was clearly without the wherewithal to handle the situation. His chest suddenly filling up with a swelling desire to persist, the youth realized that the gun shot might attract others and then began struggling with his bonds.

“Help me dammit...” Jame muttered through gritted teeth, assuming it was either Damon or the red haired girl that had saved him. “Just fucking help me so we can get moving...” The tethers were too tight for him to wiggle out from them on his own.

Now that he’d survived one brush with death, he had no interest in facing another.

[INDK]

Damon’s hands began to hum with the sound of excited particles of light around them, but the veteran soldier’s eyes remained fixed on the ice elemental. He spoke in a tone of smoldering rage, one that was merciless, but restrained.

“How could you destroy this, everything around here...” Damon demanded. “Everything that they’ve worked for... what’s in it for you? Why give these people that magic that’ll just destroy them? How much of a bastard can you be?”
The orb, seemingly impatient with Damon’s behavior, hissed as it vibrated in the air. In increasingly sloppy writing, it reiterated its request.

Despite the commands of the orb, Damon did not cast the lasers that were forming at his fingertips. He needed answers. A bit of the veteran had died the day he’d failed on Peligrino Island, a bit of him that could not be restored. He had been hopeful when he’d come to the island, but bitterly sorrowful upon leaving.

Shaking his head, Damon fought back the slightest tear in the corner of his eye as he stared back at the ice elemental’s soulless leer.

“You can’t even imagine,” the ice elmental finally replied. “Your sensibilities would never understand...”

Damon’s gaze became fierce. He bit his lip, lest a sudden outburst of rage jeopardize both the fate of Peligrino Island and all of Raiaera as well.

“I understand you deserve to die,” Damon finally said. His voice was cold, almost alien to him. It was as if a lifetime of disappointment in the frailties of others had finally taken its toll. Damon had finally found a life he had no interest in saving. “Tell me what I want or I assure you... it WILL happen.”

The cave suddenly seemed silent. For a brief moment, the sound of water drops falling from stalactites was audible again. Damon waited, gazing the icy eyes of his enemy and seeing nothing worth redemption.

“You wouldn’t kill me...” the ice elemental shot back. “You care too much about the world.”

Damon shook his head. There was nothing but anger simmering within the veteran’s chest. He could have cared less about Peligrino Island, and even less about the war that he was working to stop. For all his accomplishments and accolades, Damon was now the same furious boy who had been ripped from his home by vampires. The only difference was now he was powerful enough to make the target of his vengance pay.

“I hate you...” Damon said. The lasers that had been humming at his fingers suddenly shot out towards the ice elemental.

[Karuka]

((bunny approved via AIM))

I hit 'im. That realization almost made Karuka laugh. She'd never had good luck throwing things at targets, especially with a life on the line. The last time, she'd been on a slave ship not far away from Corone with Seth Dahlios, and the potatoes she'd hurled at the slaver had merely been sliced from the air. Apparently a target caught off-guard was that much easier to hit, but the Irish lass didn't spend too much time reflecting on the success. Something much more important was happening.

In a heartbeat, she was at Jame's side, nimble fingers picking rapidly at the rough cowhide thongs restraining the half dragon's motion. Within moments, the knots unraveled beneath her slender fingers, and Jame was free. She helped him to his feet.

"C'mon, we d' not ha' much time, an' none to lose!" She stood with long legs stiff and straight, ready to launch her from her standing position into motion. Jame's sense of haste, however, clearly did not match that of the impatient red-head. He slowly dusted himself off and examined his limbs to make sure that he hadn't been hurt in the brief scuffle with the old man.

Karuka, not willing to waste a single moment, grabbed Jame by a wing and started lunging off, only to stumble to the ground as he flicked his wing and dug in his heels. "Stop pulling at the wing, lady!"

The brassy red-head bolted up, her little compass in her hand and an ever growing tension in the air. It was a feeling she'd had a couple of times before - once on the morning she'd been pulled to Althanas, and again when she took the Heart of Scara Brae into her hands for the first time. Everything was about to change forever, and if Tura Preylor had been right, everything changing forever was bad.

"Fine, then, stay here t' be d'voured by wolves." With that pleasant thought, she bounded off, long legs propelling her over the leaf-blanketed crests and troughs of the forest floor. Every now and again she would pause, but only for a brief moment before the compass regained its bearings and led her off again.

Without warning, the tension in the air burst. White doors similar to the portal that had brought them back in time started popping into and out of existence all about her. She could catch snippets of what was happening within each one, but none of them mattered save in that she feared the worst. Loud tramping behind her told her that the sudden strange phenomenon had startled Jame into following.

It wasn't even a quarter of a mile more before Karuka burst into a cave and saw Damon standing before the rapidly melting pile of shattered ice, amidst all the chaos that was beginning to happen. A dread chill ran through her body. She had tried her hardest, but it hadn't been good enough. If she'd left Jame to die, she'd have been in time to save the world from the General's folly.

If wasn't good enough now.

"Damon K'osi," she said slowly, holding onto a stitch in her side and breathing heavily from the long, hard run, "y've just broken th' universe."

>>>I hit him.<<<

"Come on, we don't have much time, and none to lose!"

"Fine, stay here to be devoured by wolves."

"Damon Kaosi...you've just broken the universe." <-- best line ever

[Call me J]

Before Damon could respond, Jame spoke up terrified. “What… what… you mean the universe is broke?” He shuddered at the thought. He turned back to Karuka, just to confirm. “You mean the universe is broken, like we’re not going to be around for much longer….”

He could tell from one look on her face that she was serious.

Jame really didn’t need the confirmation though. The way the world was changing around him was evidence enough. The white doors that had been popping up and around everywhere were becoming less and less refined, as if the barriers between time were disintegrating within themselves. From white doors, they had turned gray, and now they were withered, almost translucent. Jame could look all around him and see the future, the past and the present.

He shuddered. Everything around him was falling apart. Even the parts of the cave that were not covered by the portal had begun to look unnatural. The rock had begun to vibrate, giving off a hazy hue, as if the material within it was unsure as to whether or not is should exist. Jame could even see his hand changing. His body itself felt different. It was as if his body was calling him back to a different time and place.

For a moment, he wondered where he should be. There was no time in his life that was all that memorable. It had been a hedonistic rush, good times with Ashley, good times with drinks and good times with money. Perhaps he’d somehow be sucked into the future, a future that he’d never have now that the universe was falling in on itself. He desperately wanted that future now, he hadn’t lived nearly enough.

“Come on!” he shouted, now turning towards Damon. He looked at the green skinned half elf with both disappointment and hope. “Come on… you broke the universe, you’ve gotta know how to fix it…”

As if to illustrate his point, Jame reached down and grabbed a bit of the dirt on the cave floor. “Feel this…” he said, shoving it towards Damon’s face. “Feel it dammit… it doesn’t even feel like dirt…”

He shook his head in disgust. Jame couldn’t help but wonder now why his mother had sent him to help Damon in the first place. “If I’d have known he was going to destroy the world, then I really wouldn’t have come…” he thought bitterly. Already, he had survived one brush with death, and he knew that he didn’t want to have to deal with another. However, this time, there was no escape, no way to fix it. Karuka might have been able to come in to save him from an old man, but Jame knew that there was nothing she could do here. She looked just as terrified as he was.

“Come on…” he said, thrusting the dirt towards Damon again. “Come on… You’re supposed to be a hero… do something!”

As Jame spoke, the dirt in his hand was suddenly being sucked out of his grasp. A portal had opened directly above him, and it was without a door. This was the most powerful portal yet, and it was beginning to work to destroy time where they were. It had begun to suck the air all around them, the dirt in Jame’s hand, and even small plants and rubble, out into its time.

There was no doubt about it now, the universe was broken and Jame didn’t know what to do. All he knew was he didn’t want to die.

[INDK]

Damon was completely disheartened. His rage had begun to dissipate, and he found he didn’t like what was left. Bitterly, he bit his lip, and began to realize what was happening. “That bastard said I cared too much about the universe…” he realized. “He was a portal or something…” The now shamed veteran couldn’t help but wonder what had brought him into this situation. He had been sent to the past to stop a war between Raiaera and Alerar, but all he’d succeeded in doing was destroying the world, nowhere near neither Raiaera nor Alerar.

The veteran soldier had felt like this many times before, but for the first time, the universe was literally crumbling around him. He has spent his entire existence trying to protect life, and now he was going to be the one who destroyed it. A lifetime of hard work, selflessness and dedication was going to be erased by one brief moment of revenge. He now understood the anger, the rage that the Order of the White Thorn had felt when they’d summoned their monsters to destroy both the vampires of Surat and the people of Peligrino Island.

This was the end of the world, and Damon had nothing to say for himself. For a moment, he wanted to apologize, but he didn’t know to whom. To Jame, the young kid who had somehow gotten mixed up in an adventure far beyond his years, to the red haired messenger whose name or business he didn’t know, or even to the thousands of people beyond the portals in different timelines, each of them just as confused as he was. Damon could barely look towards the portals and see them. Now thousands of cries of confusion and panic echoed throughout the world. Every one of them was one of Damon’s victims.

“I- I can’t make this better,” Damon told Jame, speaking as if he was a child. Damon remembered that was what the village chieftain had told him after his father died. It had been no consolation to him then, and he knew it wouldn’t be consolation to anyone else now.

However, before Damon could have said anything more, he suddenly found his body being moved. He could barely utter a thought or draw a breath before he was suddenly sucked through a portal back into Raiaera. He was back in Eluriand, not in the Eluriand from which he’d come, but a much darker, more desolate time in its history. The sky was black, it was nighttime. And the undead were still in control of the city.

Damon gulped. Flying wraiths dotted the sky, howling out to the moon as if to declare their dominance over all they saw. Skeletons roamed meaninglessly, while corrupted elfs and zombies attacked buildings at random, fighting over each other for the few pieces of flesh they could gather from unfortunate students from the schools of magic or adventure seekers that had passed through the city’s gate. Every last building in the city was decayed, both from natural damage and the work of the undead. The air contained the distinct smell of dead dry blood. It was in the air that he inhaled.

Both the red haired girl and Jame were with him. Damon unsheathed his favourite weapon, an axe with a stake on the bottom called Respite. “Stay behind me,” Damon called. He was practically shouting so as to be heard above the din of the chaos. If they were all going to die in the middle of Eluriand, Damon was not going to let them die at the hands of the undead. “Jame… cover the back.”

However, before Damon could have asked the red haired girl if she knew any way that they could have restored time to its proper place, he realized just exactly where he was. He was not just in the past of Eluriand, but his own past as well. Less than fifteen feet away from him, a younger Damon Kaosi was warding off the undead from a chariot with flaming bottles of wine and steadfast dedication. Damon’s two fellow passengers, Hazaar T’Lorelime and Taliel Escabre, were helping him as best as they could.

Damon realized what he was going to have to do. For the future of the rest of the world, he was going to have to kill himself.

“Stay here,” he barked out, before darting forward in a mad rush. He paid little attention to the zombies and corrupted elves around him, knocking them off their feet as they swarmed around the chariot. All he knew was that he had to prevent himself from killing the ice elemental.

(bunny approved)