GREAT IDEA LET'S DO IT. "Wait! Wait!" Skylar shrieked as the spear-point barreled towards his face; he threw up his hands and cringed in his most abject cowardly posture. "I'm unarmed! I'm here in good faith! I use my boon to request a peaceful private parlay!"
The spear jerked to a halt inches from his nose, for all the world appearing to have been alacritously arrested by his alliteration; Skylar gulped in a breath of air and focused on staying as still as possible as the robed woman glared at him with enough hatred to melt steel beams. "You filth," she hissed, trembling with rage. "You absolute mishkot sakpa. I will see you burn." Slowly, she straightened up and retracted the spear, then deliberately let go of it; rather than falling to the metal platform with a clang, as Skylar had expected, it instead levitated itself over to the huge golden throne she'd been seated in previously and settled into a stand which appeared to be present for such a purpose. "Leave us," she commanded to the attendants; each of them filed away down the stairs in an orderly queue, glaring at Skylar as they went. Why do these people hate me? Are they just piling on?
"You really have a talent for making friends," Levan commented nervously; Skylar noticed belatedly that his hand had been on his sword hilt. He was ready to throw down for me? Wow, I'm really out of the loop on our shared backstory at this point in the chronology. He turned with an apologetic expression to the white-haired woman. "Do we need to leave too? I don't know what 'private' means here."
The woman jerked her chin in Skylar's direction. "Ask him."
Skylar blinked. "Huh?" Drotz, I have to be careful here. If it's really Amara, there might be things she'd want to say to me without witnesses; but if not, I might be better off with backup. I'll risk it; Amara has taken me to other timelike spaces before to get rid of witnesses, so I'll assume she can do it again if that's the case and it's necessary. "We're a team," he decided out loud, carefully controlling his intonation to imply that it should have been obvious; he turned his most piteous expression towards Reine and Levan. "We don't keep secrets from each other, right guys?" They both scowled as he kept his expression plaintive, smirking inwardly. Lol. Lmao, even.
"Regent," Reine grudgingly began, "we beg your indulgence and thank you for your... restraint." She shifted, crossing her arms. "Understandable though it might be, I too am confused by your wrath against the Zuzan. Have you met before?"
The white-robed woman stared daggers at Skylar, but said nothing; instead, she turned her back upon the three of them to glare up at the floating orbs overhead. "His crimes are known to me. That is all you need to know."
"And you have firsthand knowledge of such crimes, right?" Levan prompted, glancing sideways at Skylar. "Not that the little brux isn't culty as skek, but he's been falsely accused of things before." Skylar struggled to keep a straight face.
"I said his crimes are known," the Regent half-shouted, whirling to point accusingly at Levan; he flinched slightly, which shocked Skylar. Wait, what? He's normally a stone-cold badgrak. Why is he so afraid of her? "Do not attempt to deceive me, any of you; my patience is great, but not limitless."
"Excuse me," Skylar cut in, as gently as he could, "but I really don't know what you're referring to. If I've really done something wrong to you, I'm sorry, but I don't know what it is." He kept his hands raised, although the blood was starting to drain out of them and it was going to start being painful soon. "If you want to hurt me, I won't defend myself; but could I at least know what you think I've done?"
Reine, unexpectedly, nodded reluctantly. "The accused traditionally do have the right to know the charges against them."
Shaking with rage, the Regent drew in a long breath, then let it out slowly; by degrees, her body stilled, and she took a step backwards to sit on the golden throne once more. "Skylar Kass," she began, very quietly, "is the doom of this world. As you all know, I am immortal -- " Wait, what? "-- having watched over Shala'kaitya for one thousand years. It is my charge to safeguard this place and to defend it against all threats -- which he most certainly qualifies as." She flicked a raw, red-rimmed gaze in Skylar's direction. "You all know that he bears the Kalativa, which cannot be taken from him by force; with it, he is a menace to all time. At every adverse event throughout my regency, he has been recorded; the Obscurum, the Cremulus, the siege of Gavispar." Ooh, the Cremulus. That sounds cool. "He was present at the founding of Halhafen; records even indicate he was a conspirator who helped construct many of their profane laws. It is known to me that he is the true identity of Winston Hemlock..." -- at this, Levan and Reine both groaned for some reason Skylar didn't yet know, but could guess at -- "...and to this day is revered by their military forces as the progenitor of their imperial ambitions." Sweet! "This is only the barest fraction of the broad villainy of which he is guilty," she finished, looking at Skylar with eyes full of loathing; "What possible excuse could you have?"
"You said a bunch of stuff about things I've been near, but not a lot of things I've done," Skylar pointed out; Reine looked incensed, but Levan nodded grimly. "These two were at most of the events you just described too, and I notice you're not accusing them of anything; to the best of my knowledge, I've never done anything reprehensible since coming to this continent." He paused for breath, trying to choose his words carefully.
Ooh, good point. "If the Kalativa really does travel through time, some of the things you mentioned might still be in my future; I don't know if that's really how things work," he continued. "For all we know, some of those events could even be other people, pretending to be me." He stepped closer, weighing his risks but also trusting his intuition. "But I can tell that whatever this is, it's personal for you; you're not trying to bring me to justice, you're angry with me for something you think I did to you in your past. If it's something that I'm going to do in my future, maybe we can talk about it? I don't want to hurt you. I don't want to hurt anybody."
Immediately, the white-haired woman's face cracked like broken stone; with a furious movement, she lunged towards him and reached down to her waist. Before Skylar could stop her, she yanked her top up to expose her chest. "You will be responsible for this," she howled forlorly as Skylar gaped what was revealed; a black, ragged hole where her heart should have been occupied the center of her ribcage, and he could visibly see her lungs heaving with emotion behind the exposed bone. Don't look at her wobnaks. Don't look at her wobnaks. "You will doom me to an eternity of deathless immuration, enchain me to a duty I never wanted and cannot escape!" Then, abruptly, everything became too much for the woman; she collapsed to the silver surface, sobbing. "Your fault. Your fault," she wept over and over.
Stunned, Skylar couldn't move, breathe, or think; Me? I did this? Will do this? Is this even Amara, or some other time lady? Are they clones or what? He took a half-step forward, holding out a hand tentatively as his mouth opened. He had to say or do something, but he didn't even know how to begin.
Then, suddenly, the decision was taken away from him; without transition, Amara was suddenly there, in between him and the white-robed woman. With a grim expression, she faced Skylar and shook her head; then she turned and knelt, embracing the identical-looking woman. "Stop," she mumbled, "you have to stop. You're just hurting yourself." She paused, stroking the other woman's white hair. "Hurting everyone else, too, but I know you can't hear that right now."
The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
"It's not fair," the white-haired version wailed miserably; her hands clutched at the flat metal, nails scraping hideously over the surface. Her voice rose to a shriek, then trailed off into a desperate plea. "It's not fair." To either side, Skylar could seen Levan and Reine looking uncomfortable; neither of them seemed to know what to do in this circumstance, though he did notice they weren't reacting much to Amara. Maybe they've seen her more since Gavispar? Is this even in our subjective future?
"I know." Gently, Amara kissed the other woman's brow. "I know. But look at him." Gently, she raised the other woman's chin and directed her gaze to where Skylar stood, aghast. "He doesn't know. He doesn't even know who you are." Her mouth twisted with grim humor. "In fact, you barely know who I am, and you don't know him at all; you don't have all the facts, and he has even less." Gently, she rose and helped the other woman to her feet; she glanced at Skylar, then cast her gaze down with a complicated expression he didn't understand. "We're all going to have to do some forgiving before all of this is done. I think you're going to have to be the first."
"No, she doesn't," said Skylar suddenly; he stepped forward and knelt before the two women. "I can go first. She tried -- or maybe will try -- to kill me in Gavispar, but..." -- he bit his lip -- "...I can see that she probably had reasons. I'm not holding a grudge, or anything, so..." He trailed off, not looking up, and waiting to see what would happen. This Amara is almost certainly coming from after our chat in the jail about domestic violence. So at least there's some temporal context.
He heard a sharp, indrawn breath from above and winced, his body tensing involuntarily in anticipation of pain; but after a moment, he heard the white-robed woman exhale slowly through clenched teeth. "You are right. He does not know me." Skylar looked up to see her push Amara away gently but firmly and stagger back to sit in the throne once more. "But he will," she added ominously.
"Skylar," Amara began, gently, "This is... Amrita. From what we can tell, we think she's my sister."
Twins? Skylar blinked, looking back and forth between the two. "You think?" he asked incredulously.
"Our memories are incomplete," Amrita grated. "Amara believes that it has something to do with the Kalativa; I personally suspect the Arts of Timurus." Skylar abruptly had to keep very still; Oh skek. Did I mess up their memories, like I did Levan's? No, no way, I'm not that powerful, and I'm not the only guy with Weir. It could be a Ravitu, or some other ACTUAL cultist, or any number of things. There's probably even Anticuaries of Weir. "That sucks," he commiserated lamely.
"Be that as it may," the white-haired woman continued, "there are yet crises we may avert." Reluctantly, she gestured; the sound of steps coming up the stairs began to sound behind them. "Will you take refreshment?"
Skylar blinked. Well, I am kinda thirsty... he turned, expecting more attendants, but what he saw instead startled him; a trio of skeletons, golden and silver motes swirling in their eyesockets, ascended the staircase and proffered trays of cups and snacks. "Uh, thanks," he managed uncomfortably, plucking a cup from a skeleton's tray and downing it in one gulp. Ooh, mead! They have bees, too! He gasped for air, pounding his chest at the unexpected sting of the alcohol. "I thought that was water," he managed with a cough. "What's with the skeletons?"
"My second Art," Amrita muttered. "Unwinding of Life. The dead share no secrets." Amara moved closer to her and squeezed her hand gently; the white-haired woman closed her eyes, but Skylar could see her squeezing back. Guess they have a complicated relationship. Join the club.
"Don't think I've ever heard of that Art," Levan commented; Skylar jumped, realizing he'd forgotten the Loathborn was there. "Who's the Devari who grants it?" His eyes were narrowed slightly, and Skylar reminded himself that Levan was both shrewd and wary. It's a question I should have asked, too.
"It is one lost to time," the Regent replied sadly. "The name would mean nothing to you. But no others save my sister wield his Arts in this age; for which we may be grateful, for they are perilous." Skylar filed this fact away for further research. They both use Arts from the same Devari, who's not around anymore. So at least Amara's abilities are something similar to what the rest of us have, and not some weird other thing like space technology or mutant powers.
Reine, who had been standing silently with a poorly-concealed expression of impatience throughout everything, suddenly had her restlessness overwhelm her forbearance. "If both of you are here," she said to the two women, "then you are uniquely suited to answer our question. Can the past be altered? We thought to destroy Lord Nightstar before the founding of Halhafen, but the tomes of history seem not to have changed."
The two sisters exchanged a look; eventually, Amara spoke first. "We still don't know," she admitted. "We've both tried in different ways; the results have been inconclusive so far. It's dangerous, but..."
"But the Kalativa is dangerous as it is," Skylar guessed. A sudden inspiration came to him; he shoved a hand in his pocket and withdrew the little dial. "You said it couldn't be taken by force, but can it be given up voluntarily? Could I turn it over to Levan? Or to you?"
Amrita stared at him, shocked, but Amara's expression became contemplative; she gently took the Kalativa from his hand and inspected it, turning it this way and that. "Maybe. But have you experienced interaction with your future selves?" Her mouth became grim at Skylar's expression. "If you give it up, how will that occur? Will you risk the world to prove a theory?"
Levan choked on his mead; this time, Skylar could not suppress a smirk of his own, but at least managed to shift his body so that Levan couldn't see his expression. "You speak wisdom," Reine admitted with some resentment. "I suppose we must trust the cultist with it for now, then."
"I'm not a cultist," Skylar said automatically.
At this, Amara's eye twinkled. "Of course," she agreed, placing the Kalativa back in his hand; but as soon as her fingertips touched his palm, Skylar was yanked to another place again. That queer feeling of compression -- as though his body were being rendered two-dimensional -- shocked through him, and then without transition he was back in the same place they'd been before, with the odd metal walls and weird liquid noises coming from somewhere unseen.
To his surprise, Amara wobbled and fell against him; cautiously, he caught her and resisted the urge to be inappropriate. What happened to vowing to be even more of a zopnop in the future? You're going soft, Skylar. "You okay?" he ventured.
"Just tired," she mumbled; "I'll get a break soon. But we have two more hops."
She tried to stand up, but Skylar found himself reluctant to let her go; "Maybe take a minute," he offered, wondering where all this was coming from. "If you meant what you said back there..." He trailed off, unsure of where he was going with this. "You don't have to push yourself."
Unfortunately, this appeared to be the wrong thing to say; Amara frowned and shoved him away roughly. "That's kind of rich, coming from you," she complained; but he could see she wasn't angry. Some other, stranger emotion discomfited her, and she grew more restless as he watched. "Come on. I know it might not seem like it, but we do not, in fact, have all the time in the world." Her hand caught his in a rough grip, and they were gone.
Skylar Kass stood underneath a starry sky, watching the moon make its transit; shadows boiled around him as though alive, seeming to wrap the night around him as he toyed with a piece of straw in his teeth. "You're late," he commented to Amara and the other Skylar, who looked confused as they shimmered into existence from out of nowhere.
"When is this? Which are you?" the second Skylar asked the first. "Are you even really me?"
"Are we even ourselves?" the first Skylar opined with venomous humor. "Same river twice. Let's just get this over with." He tossed away the straw and stood up, moving to stand besides Amara; the second Skylar raised a hand in protest. "Hey, can we give her a minute? This is a little rough on her."
"I wouldn't recommend it," the first Skylar said grimly, as the eastern horizon began to turn red; the second Skylar gawked as something lurid and awful appeared and began to cascade towards them, blotting out the entire sky at a horrifyingly rapid pace. It was like some kind of burning black tar that looked as though it would engulf the world; in moments, it would be upon them. "Anytime you're ready," the first Skylar muttered to Amara sourly.
It took a moment -- during which whatever strange doom in the sky raced nearer by the instant and the second Skylar's dread edged towards panic -- but then, out of nowhere, they were gone again and back in the odd space the second Skylar had just left. "You're a tremp," he said to the first Skylar.
"Facts," the first Skylar replied, "but ask her if she thinks I'm being unfair." He gazed in Amara's direction, and the second Skylar was shocked to see her looking apologetic; Where's the frosak who kicked me in the tingtongs like two days ago? She must be from really far in the subjective future of our interactions.
"I'm taking a nap. You guys do the rest." The first Skylar shoved past them and flopped down on a cot; the second Skylar frowned after him. "What's his problem?"
"He's... having a really bad day," Amara managed, panting for breath. Skylar moved to help her again, but she waved him away; her eyes looked sad as she stood back up. "Last hop, then we can rest for a few minutes. I don't have long before my next shift, but I can answer a question or two." She grabbed him again and pulled in some strange oblique way he couldn't quite identify; this time, the motion was instantaneous, rather than going through the weird timeless space he'd experienced the last three times.
"It was different that time," he commented as they appeared on a grassy field. "Why?"
"We're going... a shorter distance... in time," Amara gasped; this time she was too weak to fight him off, and he caught her in his arms as she collapsed. Sitting down on the soft grass, he put her head in his lap and wondered what in the vark was going on. "So the shock... is less."
"Can you maybe just shut up for a couple minutes?" Skylar complained. "You're about to pass out."
Amara struggled weakly against him, but he forced her to lie still; she's usually so much stronger than me. Maybe she's sick? "I shouldn't," she murmured, but he could see her eyes closing. "Just a minute..."
Skylar kept quiet as she dozed off, then began sleeping; her breaths were small and shallow, and he wondered with more worry than he felt made sense that she might be somehow in danger. This is stupid. She's a time-traveling punk heroine who has on multiple occasions beaten my brux. I don't need to baby her. But despite everything, he couldn't force himself to dump her sleeping form onto the cold ground; he scowled at himself and sighed. Guess there's limits to how much of a zopnop I can make myself be.
He pondered taking off his coat and draping it over her, but didn't want to disturb her (and, truth be told, didn't want the discomfort such an act would cost him). Thanks, autonarrator, for telling all my followers what a sorbnek grak I am. Instead, he simply contented himself with holding still until his legs fell asleep, then gently shifting until he was laying down on his back to let blood recirculate while keeping Amara's head pillowed on his thigh; she stirred and mumbled, but did not wake. Eventually, he felt himself starting to doze too. Should I try to stay awake, in case something attacks us? I don't see anything around...
This is one of the more important decisions, so think carefully!
-- AMBLE
IS THIS OKAY, CHAT?
