Winter 2045

Gavin Daniels

There was a period of time where Gavin was unsure if the pale monster would show. There was a risk in trusting the process—this much was always true, but still he felt like the rails he had normally walked along had since upturned and pointed toward the sky. The path was nebulous and involved a lot of patience and faith.

His camp was not empty—but his guests were asleep as each of them had traveled long and far to their destinations. He knew not exactly how long each journey had been, but it was clear that they had been exhausting. He did not need sleep—not since crossing over into the new universe at least. That was a remnant of a need that at first he missed, but the lack of nightmares that haunted him was more beneficial than anything else. Of course, it had felt like he was walking in a living nightmare in the first days since arriving in this world.

His waking hours brought him constant torment with the fears and doubts of those that preceded him. Those that he fought for, those he had been working toward to this very day. Gavin wore those fears on his sleeve as he continued on in those days.

A long time has passed since those days—those first nights without sleep. He simply got used to longing for the dreams of old—not realizing how much they silenced his thoughts at all hours of the day. The thoughts of his friends and loved ones—the fragments of them who remained in this new world.

Shattered...and too much so to even realize it. Although, of course now some of those memories have started to resurface as their own beings. Parts of his studies were into these beings named Elemantics that have surfaced over the past two decades. So many forces were coming into play he found it overwhelming sometimes keeping them organized in his mind.

The Elemantics took the form of large and tumultuous storms of beasts. He remembered the sheet he had torn out from that cursed book—The Eye of Timaeus. It was a mystery where the book lay now—and it was definitely important that it be found, but the sheet he held had been vital in his research:

On the Topic of Elemantics, Echoes, and Reformancy

Nothing is quite so certain in this universe but what we can archive ourselves and the most curious of oddities I’ve come to know are the subject of Elemantics and their relationship to echoes. The Elemantic race are beings that do not exist of cells and atoms like you or I. They do not come from flesh and blood, but of waves. Particles that which bind to elements of the universe and thus exist as beings greater than experience. Timaeus foretells that these Elemantics exist beyond the Creatures of the Night. Unlike those that exist as pure darkness – the Elemantics exist as pure light and can be seen as the natural predator to the Creatures of the Night.

These beings exist as echoes of the Creatures from the past in the new universe. As twins that which exist separately – a coexistence yet a relationship so cat-and-mouse like. I feel study on these beings is much needed...so much that we’ve captured one ourselves. It is with Timaeus’ help that we are able to classify the creature we’ve discovered between light fractals – it is draconic in nature – similar to that of the terrible Sakonna. Gorgeous scales glisten and reflect all light that passes over it. We needed to construct special goggles to see it up close. Timaeus also writes on the nature of reformancy – the act of rejoining the Elemantic with the Creature of the Night, but he does not describe the end result of this reformancing.

Perhaps most interesting are the crystalline structures we’ve been able to examine within the specimen. They held pictures in motion burned onto the light like a glass painting—but it seemed to play out a scene to the observers. It...

...and there it cut off. This was all he had to claim of the book...and he had fears that it was the only page that remained...but that was nothing more than guesswork. If that were true...would that beast they captured be somehow free?

He knew of the book’s abilities, of course. More than words were trapped in those pages. It was like a vessel—he had seen Father demonstrate its abilities once—but that was long, long ago. Much further back than any of these lands. Those powers predated this time.

While he didn’t have a guarantee...it was most likely that the Elemantic inside was Sakonna’s echo—that was assuming of course that the draconic shape was no coincidence...and if it was...well, then he had no basis with which to guess. The last time he saw Sakonna was at the gorge...gods, it was nearing twenty years since the separation. Thinking back, those events had hurt him so dearly—how awful the battle at the gorge had torn open the scars of the Children of the Night.

It still sat sore in his memories—that then was the end of their unity. It all started with the death of Z-One, and of course he hadn’t let him know in advance what was to happen—that had happened frustratingly less as time went on in the new world. He felt like he was left the reins of the entire carriage and the path forward was encased both in darkness and heavy storms. Then...he was dead. He hadn’t seen anything like it before—he had personally helped him pass over dozens of times over the years. It was simple, worrisome if he was being honest, but he always came back.

He didn’t this time, it seemed as if the process were interrupted, and there was little to no evidence of what had actually happened.

Gavin was not the first on the scene, and he wondered how much would have gone differently if he was. Samael took charge of the investigation and Gavin hadn’t been updated on the specifics until the others had—that much was enough to signal the start of the chaos—Samael had forever been jealous of his relationship with Z-One...and in that moment he realized the momentum was in his favor to sow chaos.

And so chaos it had been.

Those memories hurt dearly, and if Gavin had known the person that Samael had been in the old world…So much information that could have changed the course of history if it had only been disseminated earlier. He shook the thoughts off and thought no longer on the fight at the gorge.

He held the fragment of Sakonna’s Monolith in his hand alongside the shimmering golden monolith he held beside it. In its reflection he saw a pair of eyes looking back at him. They embodied sorrow, and he clasped his hands tightly in response. Pain and sorrow welled in dual pools in his chest.

It has been an eternity since he had last seen Iris McCallum, but he knew without a doubt those were her eyes that continued to stare at him. She who wished for something simple...and how much he would have loved to fulfill that wish. He would have given everything—and so he did. He gave, and now he stood here in a land as far as one could possibly be from that old time.

Although...to say he hasn’t seen her since those days wouldn’t be true. He closed his eyes and thought back to those days meeting with Z-One in that library. That was one of the most chilling conversations he had remembered having with just about anyone. It felt unreal...it was unreal.

He spoke casually and offered rebuttal, but in all sorts it felt like a dream, like he wasn’t piloting his own mind but to view—to spectate. It was after that conversation—just before the world restarted entirely that he slipped through time—one last time.

His power back then was mighty—not more than Father’s, but it seemed like a fragment of such. He had the ability to slip through time and space to many far off lands—worlds back then that grew to the infinite—much like this land had before the Collapse.

Originally he gained this ability after his death in his world—or at least what he believed to be his death. Before his understanding of the world’s operation—he fell victim to being used as a tool by a man who proclaimed to be God—that man was nothing more than a tool himself—a vessel through which the real god of the world told stories.

Those stories were the lives of those he loved, and it had taken him as much time to understand it as it did to come to terms with the meaning of life—his own and of life in general.

During those tough times he was not able to return to his original time—not until it was in danger of killing itself and all other times around it. He does not regret his actions of that time—but he still feels the heartbreak that time encompassed deep within his chest—they still powered him to this day. But after he was able to return, he was granted a final trip through those memories. This was the final gift that Z-One had granted.

He had touched ground on what looked to be an open field—cherry blossom trees had sprouted and bloomed to life in front of him. He had seen them in person before—the many worlds he saw after his own in their own ways resembled the bits and pieces of life he was familiar with—but he knew that they were not native to the area he had considered home.

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

He knew it was a facsimile—it was not anything that was lasting or what would traditionally be considered real, as if they had the power to recreate the world in full as he was experiencing now, they would not need to create a new time. They would not need to lose themselves to the new world and they would not have to say good-bye.

But for his purpose—for his desire, he knew this would be enough.

His body had changed as the cherry blossoms grew around him, he was the spitting image of himself at twenty-one—and not because of any cybernetic body he inhabited—here, he was himself fully as he used to be. It was as nostalgic a feeling as any.

Staring at him across two sproutlings—her red hair brilliantly shining against the pink of the blossoms that now floated in the air. Iris McCallum stood looking back at him—she had been in her early twenties as well—this information must have been pulled from this world before the planet was destroyed. She looked older—but the person he fell in love with was looking back at him.

The two embraced—the silence of the world around highlighted the sparks that burst in his chest as he wrapped his arms around her. Their spirits had formed a union that he wished would never burn away. Their meeting was borne of many alignments and misalignments of the stars above—directed and guided by the higher force that would soon misalign the stars permanently.

In that sliver of space they shared everything—their wishes, hopes, desires, and in those desires Gavin had told her of his mission. He knew the act of telling her here was hollow—that it was not truly what it looked to be, but he was different—grown. He knew of responsibility—of honor, and of most, respect.

He told her of his mission because he would have it no other way—and in doing so he told her of his goal—that he would wish to see new life borne from their love flourish in the new world. They had talked—but he knew the sliver they shared would not last forever, and the time for his mission would come soon.

“Tell me, what would you name her?” Gavin asked.

“You know it to be a girl?” Iris asked, and by looking into his eyes she then knew it too. “Allison. I’ve always loved the name Allison.”

“I would see to it that she carries your name, but I’m afraid I do not know what will happen when…” Gavin trailed off.

“When all this ends?”

He nodded slowly. “I will carry all of our hopes. If not with me, then with her.”

He looked into her eyes and saw the universe beyond. An infinite vastness that he saw thousands of potential futures that he could never have. There was an ephemeral beauty to the impermanent nature of it all.

And so...it was done. The sliver froze and Gavin looked at the face of his lover—recreated from the remaining information stored away in the Dimension Between Dimensions—the last remnant of the old world outside of his own memories.

To him now she looked like a statue—cruel in its design, but not cruel enough to discard. It was a memory in its most pure form. He looked then to the sky and nodded, the message well received to the face who had looked down on him—Z-One carried a look of sorrow as it was time to begin.

Gavin sat up looking at the stars—wondering if somewhere up there he was getting the same message back—if the almighty creator had looked favorably on his actions thus far.

A sound in the distance alerted him to sit up. He was at attention with the memories of old still tightly clasped in his palm, but not fully stored away. The corner of his mouth turned up into a grin as his hopes had panned out.

“It’s coming, time to wake up,” He turned and said to his other guests.

Two figures sat up, one more groggily than the other. He had to say—they certainly looked different than traveling companions that he would have guessed—but their origins were certainly strange enough to fit the bill.

Emily Majors was in her mid-twenties with long auburn hair and a fair complexion. She was wearing a skin-tight suit that was largely gray with black accents—she had been wearing it since meeting up and he had guessed it was important to her powers. A part of her abilities had resonated with him specifically as it seemed to be similar to what he used to be able to do—but on a whole different level.

Where Gavin has lived multiple lives across many worlds in many times, Emily has managed to do this concurrently. Before the time of the Collapse she would find herself able to shift between timelines without any extra energy expense. She quickly learned to control it and she could live dozens if not hundreds of lives all at once. Stories upon stories compiling on top of each other—Gavin admitted that he could not imagine keeping track of that many lives running at once.

Since the Collapse, however, she’s been severely limited in her options of lives to travel between. She had mentioned that she could only travel to one other self—which perplexed Gavin completely, as he believed this universe was now just that...and the world she described hadn’t matched any of the worlds of old that he personally lived through. She spoke of castles and dragons—stories of fiction, if he were asked.

And speaking of dragons...he turned to see Blaise stretching and looking up at the sky—the mask that usually covered his face was gone—replaced with a much lower quality version of the same idea—it was a blank slate carved in two—the carving looked rough and unfinished.

Gavin had worked with Blaise previously when he overlooked the caravans on the western edge of the continent. He knew Blaise had deep mechanical and technical knowledge, but it had come to a surprise that there was an even deeper knowledge within. Blaise was born with a blood curse. It manifested early in his life but much else is only known to him.

Gavin had intense interest as his power seemed to stem from a source not anything he was familiar with. He of course had felt anger over his actions when he learned it was Blaise who had leaked their mission details to the Kosunaga brothers, and that act had cost him the trust he had attempted to forge within LUCAS and Laven—two very solid recruits that would have been immensely helpful for his journey moving forward, but if his hopes were right he would be able to meet with them soon when the timing was better.

It had certainly not been opportune seeing them at Enforal—but it had been of the utmost importance that he lure his new guest away from the hotbed of activity as quickly as possible.

The creature that wore human flesh was an outsider—it originated from a space far outside any of their plans. As far as he knew—creatures like that shouldn’t have even existed. He’s seen the outer edges of the universe in his old world—a space between time he affectionately called the Dimension Between Dimensions. If there existed such creatures as voracious and terrifying—they should have existed then.

Everything in this world was made of the same matter that existed back then—so if something like that exists now it should have in some form existed previously. That being said, but it was actively looking for power—hunting down the Monoliths. That was a problem.

That...and it had also encountered Allison. He hadn’t expected this outcome and he had to do something immediately to prevent anything further from happening—he had kept tabs on her journey when possible. It had killed him to not stick around in Enforal, but he needed to get the Monolith away from the beast as quickly as possible.

He was sure Allison could handle herself in that context—but the remnant remained in his mind that he could have done more.

The figure appeared in the distance. Gavin was at full attention now and he turned to the others. “Are you ready for a confrontation if it comes to that?”

“How do you mean?” Emily asked. “I’ve never been one for fighting myself. Escape has always been my golden card.”

“Noted,” Gavin said.

“You trounced him last time, no?” Blaise asked. His voice was rough—it had sounded like his throat had been torn to shreds.

“I caught it off guard,” Gavin corrected. “I was able to maintain momentum in a moment where he underestimated me. I do not believe the circumstances will be quite the same this time around. I’ll have angered it most definitely—and that could go either way.”

“Well if I need to expend some energy I’m not averse to it,” Blaise gruffed.

“I think you should take care to not burn our camp,” Emily scolded. “Word has traveled of what you did in the west.”

He shrugged off the notion with a deep sound. “You of all people should know how it feels to pretend. To despise it with your very being.”

“Well,” Gavin began. “You were the one that stayed in the troupe so long. You could have left at any point.”

“And leave the crystal to you? Detestable idea.”

“Well, it’s not like you made out with it anyway,” Emily said. “These...crystals. Must be of great import.”

Gavin hadn’t told them of the monoliths in his possession. Such would be a grave mistake. In a way it reminded him of his time out west—as he had a similar relationship with Roshe and the rest. He wondered for but a moment what had happened to him after the events of the raid, but then his mind filed it away as the figure had grown closer.

Gavin saw and was horrified at how it looked up close. It looked like a man—but its skin was devoid of anything he could call life. It looked as if no blood ran through those veins. Scabs and burns covered its feet as it approached.

“Looks like you came after all,” Gavin called out. “I apologize for how brief our first meeting was.” He stood, but saw the figure stop. It stared straight ahead—but it didn’t seem to be looking at him exactly. He turned to see Emily sharing the same sort of shocked look—and then he guessed at some sort of connection between the two.

“Oh, so it seems we’ve more to talk about then I initially expected.”

“Who are you?” The creature barked, there was venom laced deep in his throat. “What kind of game is this...knowing I’d come to you.”

“I had a guess...now, if you came here to scream and fight I can assure you that I am prepared to do such, but that was not my intention for sitting out here.”

“What is she doing here…?” He spat. “I thought you were dead.”

“I’m sure there is plenty we can talk about,” Gavin stood in between them. His presence was commanding—he knew he had to have the most dominant personality to get what he needed done. “But in order to do that we’ll need to actually talk.”

The creature stared at him with obvious disdain. He seemed to be calculating something under the surface. “Fine. We’ll talk. I have a sense I would not fare well in a fight against the three of you should it come to that—not unprepared at least.”

“Fighting...such banal desires,” Blaise said, his arms crossed.

“Now now,” Gavin held out a hand and sat back down on the stool beside the bonfire—it held on with the smallest amount of life and flickered a faint purplish hue. “Come on, take a seat, we’ll talk about important things and then we can go our separate ways...or not,” he looked up to the creature. “Depending how things go I might offer you a place in our small group here.”

“And why would I want to join you?” The creature asked.

“That is the very topic at hand, now isn’t it?” Gavin asked. He nodded his head toward an empty seat by the fire. “Come on and take a seat.”