Ticking Time - Andrei
Reborn Past
January 2018
I sit at the desk in the room that's been set up for me while Raven and I were stuck in the past, taking notes of my experience at the Ilmen lake village and Stonehenge. A collection of journals with all the various dates and locations I’ve visited since joining the order is lined up on a hanging shelf the protrudes above my desk. Each entry could be enough for a novel, if I was an adventure writer, but I’m not, I’m a historian and a time mage and a total failure at preserving life.
I finish the last line documenting the battle with the sorcerer and what he said in his final moments before continuing to a new page and staring on the Stonehenge account. I need to record it while the events are still fresh, or I’ll forget all the old man taught me and all that happened.
I smile bitterly at the events with Raven, the sweet romance we had in the cabin and the dark death of my teacher. It was magical and painful all at the same time. I have never met a woman as passionate and bewildering as she. My heart leaps at the very thought of seeing her again, awake and watching me.
Before long I finish recounting the details of the trip and I close the journal, caressing the spine. The dark green leather cover seems to glow in the dark light of my room. I place it on the shelf next to 1453 - Constantinople.
I lean back in my chair, thinking over the events of this morning. I wonder if Raven is OK, she looked so pale. Had I looked like that to her? What made her want to risk her life for me? I mean, Yea I loved her. She was interesting and fascinating like I’ve never imagined, but was I just as interesting to her? What did she think of me? Why would she risk herself for me?
I tried to shake the image of her exhausted form from my head and combed my hands through my hair, gripping it with frustration. I’m such a failure! Why do I always get others hurt? I put her in the situation because of my rash decision to kiss her beneath Stonehenge in the first place. I put her at risk. That's not what should happen, not as a Chosen and not as a time mage. I’m so reckless!
I look at my journals again, longingly, remembering my earlier adventures, just me, alone. It was fun sharing the past with someone. I never imagined I could actually take someone with me. The journals were reflections of my years alone, learning. They weren’t always filled with painful deaths. Sure, I fought in many wars and saw many companions and friends die. But of late, things seemed to be bothering me more when innocent people in the past died because of me.
My mind wanders to the journals, drawing my attention away from Raven and her coma, as if they called to me. Their mysteries whispering to me in my dark damp room. They’re not all filled with missions for the Order. When I’m not working for them I do my own research.
One thing in all my travels puzzles me the most. It’s the one thing I’m always searching for. The reason why I recently jumped to Rus Keiv, and the one reason I keep searching for the truth. It taunts me, like a rope always just out of reach, dangling there. Maybe now I could distract myself from recent events with a look to the past.
I run my fingers along the spines of the journals and stop on a red leather one, untitled. I pull it off the shelf and flip it open to the inside cover. Here, I list the entries according to date and location. The entries in this journal jump significantly.
But they all have one thing in common. A single person who seems to appear throughout history. I read over the entries, my heart races in my chest. This mystery intrigues me so, and recently I think I’ve gotten another clue.
If someone else were able to time jump, then I wouldn’t be alone. But the old man had said only one can be in existence at a time. So could one perhaps have lived in the past, before I was born? Could a time mage journey to another time mages time? The old man had implied jumping forward was nearly impossible and could cost a mage his life, even with the help of a temporal calendar like Stonehenge.
In every jump before 1800, this person, this woman appears. She looks the same, almost. But different, depending on the age. She’s much better at me at blending in with the times. I read through the notes I’ve made and refresh my memory. If Raven was perhaps alive as she said she was, then maybe she knows this mage.
~*~
~*~
I’m covering in flames, heat licking my body, hair melting. I feel my skin bubble and burst. It's agony. Never ending agony until through the flames her face appears, smooth and glowing, like an angels. Her large round eyes cry for me, her red lips part and suddenly my skin feels normal again. NO more blisters, no more scars. She stands above me and suddenly her figure is replaced with a scaley horned beast with red eyes and razor sharp fangs. It grins maliciously at me before grabbing my neck and tearing out my jugular. I scream in pain! NO! Raven!
I bolt upright, sweating and screaming. It takes a few moments to recognize where I am and recall all that’s happened. I hold my head in my hands, it’s dripping wet and my hair is sticking together in clumps. My chest heaves with the panic of the dream, or rather, nightmare. I need sleep, but I can’t sleep. I can’t sleep without her.
I jump out of bed and throw on my white linen tunic. I grab a journal off the desk and run through the maze of hallways until I reach the infirmary.
I hold the door knob, watching through the glass. There she lies, beautiful pale face, dark brown locks framing it perfectly. She’s the picture of perfection, even when she’s sleeping. I notice Finnigan, the witches cat, curled up next to her.
I enter the room and he looks up at me.
“Mind if I read to her?” I ask, grabbing the rolly chair from the corner and wheeling it beside her bed.
“Not at all. I would love a good tale from the time mages journeys.” I can’t help but grin. That's a good title for my series of adventures.
I open the blue leather journal titled 1690, Indian Ocean.
~~~
“I grabbed the scabbard and dashed down the deck. The invasion was beginning and we had to defend the ship. The deck swayed as the rival ship pulled up to our starboard side. Ropes with hooks were thrown over the edges to lock their ship into place.
Soon the deck was swarming with pirates in dirty stinking rags and our own uniformed men. I drew my saber and engaged in battle, taking them down one by one. Though I am only 18, Captain Averys was impressed with my ability with the sword. Little does he know I learned how to fence in my previous jump.
The whole thing took a good hour to clean up. We captured the pirate captain and put him in the holding cell of our own vessel. The first mate took his own life when we took their captain. The rest fought till the bitter end. All in all we managed to recover the stolen treasure and spices from the Indian East shipment and clear the bay.
My time in the Indian Ocean with the Spanish Pirate hunters was thrilling and educational.”
I close the journal and watch Raven’s near lifeless form sleep. Finn lays curled up by her head, eyes closed. He looks like he’s asleep too until he opens an eye and flicks his tail.
“An engaging tale. You really fought the pirates, didn’t you.” He states.
“Of course! You think I made this up?” I question.
“No, But you just finished reading about fighting with the pirates before that. You jumped to that time twice and fought on both sides. Does that not bother you?”
I shake my head. “Pirates are pirates, they’re greedy and only think of their own fortunes. I wanted to learn from the inside how they manage a ship. You see, a captain like Blackbeard and Henry Morgan generally use-”
“I don’t really care, but it was entertaining. I should like to hear your tale of the egyption Kings sometime. I hear they worshiped the Cat goddess, Bastet and made statues of my ancestors.”
I frown. “You know, you’re just like a pirate Finnigan.”
“I suppose I am.” He returns to his nap and I put the journal aside, standing and moving to Raven’s side.
I recall the events with stark clarity. The pain of each death and the first breath of each revival from her lips. I reach a hand to her round pale cheek and rub it softly. It's still smooth beneath my touch, but slightly cold.
Each kiss revived me and she took that death on her own and healed her body. How does one do that? This question haunts me still. I mull over the conversations we had while in the past but I still don’t seem to know enough to make sense of it.
She’d said she was immortal, and she said she’d been alive during Stonehenge’s construction. I would like to believe my research skills are one of the best in the world, I smirk at the thought, but this time I’m stumped.
She wasn’t a mage, and she wasn’t a Chosen. Which didn’t really leave too many other options.
I know I’d joked with her about it, I still don’t think it is possible for one to be so beautiful and caring. Heck, I can’t see myself ever being saved saved countless times by a demon let alone fall in love with one. Looking at her face now is proof enough that she couldn’t be. Yet something still seems oddly strange about her.
I’d looked through the library, whose shelves contained countless records of local magic ranging over more than 2000 years but nothing made sense. Ahh, just another mystery to solve. I seemed to have a lot of those lately.
I pull my hand away reluctantly and move back to the chair beside her bed.
“When do you think Kerry will be back?” I ask the cat.
He looks up at me, green orb-like eyes watching. “ When she’s completed the potion. The one she’s chosen is likely to revive Raven, but it takes a lot of skill and concentration. Kerry is capable though. I know she has the ability to complete this potion and quickly.”
I admit, I don’t know much about Kerry. I’ve been with the Order longer than she, but she’s my senior by 6 years. We’ve never run into each other until now. She seems to know a lot of different magics. Perhaps she would know what Raven is. I doubt Raven would tell me outright. She seemed guarded about this little detail.
“Do you know how she did it?” I ask him
“Did what?”
“Revive me.”
He watches me again, as if he’s thinking about what to say to me. “It’s hard to say. Any number of abilities can be present in certain mages or other creatures. I will admit this is a unique ability Kerry and I have not come across before. Does it trouble you?”
I frown at his explanation. “Somewhat. I can’t seem to put my finger on what though. I don’t know of any mage, Chosen, demigod or demon that gives life energy. It puzzles me that I can’t figure this out.”
“Why not just ask her? I’m sure she would tell you.” He says.
I’m skeptical. “You didn’t speak to her in the past. We spoke then and she seemed guarded.” I smile though at the memory of the first night, getting close by the fire, and the feeling of being ins-”
“I can see you two got close” The cat remarks.
I feel my embarrassment paint my cheeks and I cough to hide my feelings.
“Anyway, it shouldn’t be much longer. Kerry will be back with the revival potion and you and Raven can tell us all about your journey to the passed. I am interested in hearing more.”
“Alright, Let me tell you about 17th century France then.” I open the journal and begin reading.
