Roland’s lungs burned and his head felt like it would burst. This pain escalated, pushing towards a breaking point. It was excruciating until it wasn’t. He slipped through agony’s talons as it flew away, leaving him spinning in its turbulent wake. Eventually the vortices dissipated and he was left drifting in a dull black emptiness. Louisia’s choke on him had disappeared, but so too had everything else.
Not lifeless, he slowly became aware that there was something else out there. A flickering presence against the absent horizon. It was coming towards him, but not in any normal manner. No. Its motion compressed space, pulling the two of them together. It wouldn’t be long before they collapsed on each other.
As their separation closed, Roland witnessed the incomprehensible. The unknown form was painting the nothingness with everything that had happened. The expanse seemed endless but also, without contradiction, incredibly near. Every point, every instance, was in perfect focus. A visual echo pressed its face up to his own. It was the personification of time. Its visage was his. He became overwhelmed once again, now by incoherence. Even if his senses had not been numbed, it would have been difficult for him to identify that reality was now propagating backwards.
The process fed off the intense Magicka Flux in the chamber. It accelerated until it reached the moment when the machinery beyond the chamber’s wall was beginning to spin up. Then it slowed, its fuel source now absent. The push of time’s forward direction is extremely powerful, and it easily defeated the exhausted spell. Reality had returned to its natural state, the only difference being that the evening was beginning rather than ending.
Roland found himself sitting beside Mallory again. The impresario had just taken the stage and was explaining what was really going on this evening. No one had recited any poetry yet. Roland’s time reversal spell had worked. It was elaborate and required an enormous amount of Magicka Flux, but it was successful. Only he would remember what had just taken place. It was hard for him to appreciate any of this, as he now felt physically ill.
Even though he was sitting down, his upper body was swaying like a tired drunk. It required all of his concentration not to fall out of his chair. He knew when he was and what he had to do. More importantly, he knew what not to do. After Edwin and Louisia had finished praising Mallory’s ribald poem, Louisia called on him. He didn’t say anything this time. Instead, he stood up and walked forward. He was planning on urinating in front of everyone, just like Lank Drycum.
However, after a few steps forward, his body made it clear that a different fluid would soon be covering the stage. He turned to the audience, bent over, and threw up. In an effort to make this seem intentional, he stood up straight when he was finished and stared directly into Louisia’s eyes while licking his lips. Once satisfied that he held this awkward and disgusting moment long enough, he returned to his seat.
“The miasma of existential angst that you’ve shown us …” began Louisia before suddenly trailing off. Something was bothering her, but she regained her composure. “It’s a sublime embodiment of the ineffable, challenging the very notion of artistic limitation and offering a glimpse into the boundless depths of human fragility.
“How would you describe it, my love?”
“Sweet and sticky,” said Edwin as he clapped his hands once. “Like watching your dad spank it.”
“Your insightful brevity never ceases to impress and astound,” said Louisia.
She turned back to Roland, “You’re not on our list and I understand why. You’ve already refined your raw and inherent gifts into an incredible talent. What could we possibly have to offer someone of your rarefied caliber? Only our gratitude. Thank you.”
Roland nodded and, after the stage had been cleaned, the performances resumed. However, this time when it was Lank Drycum’s turn, neither Edwin nor Louisia seemed to appreciate the artistry of his indecent act.
“Iteration is the soul of mediocrity,” said Louisia before drawing a card for him.
***
Louisia and Edwin left the chamber the same way that they entered, and the remainder of evening proceeded smoothly for Roland and Mallory. After some light food and drinks, the guests were brought into a large, dimly lit area of the mansion where a strange, ceremonial orgy was well underway. There must have been nearly a hundred masked people involved. Most seemed to be completely disinterested in the proceedings, so it was an open question as to whether or not their presence was consensual. Roland, Mallory, and the other guests from the poetry presentations were invited to join.
“This is even less of a toe-curling a sexual experience than I expected,” said Mallory as she scanned the proceedings. “Are we sure they’re not trying to pose for an oil painting? Yeesh.” She turned to Roland. “Let’s bail.”
Roland and Mallory tried to leave the orgy unnoticed, but after they changed back into the clothes they had arrived in, they found the impresario waiting for them.
“We’re gonna hit the road,” said Mallory. “Just a quiet night of mutual masturbation for us two. Plus, no one’s going to want to kiss vomit girl over here.”
Mallory squeezed Roland's hand, signalling him to speak up.
“I can still taste it in my mouth,” said Roland.
“That’s disappointing,” said the impresario. “But before you leave, I was told to give you these.” He handed both Roland and Mallory simple bronze rings. They had a smooth, featureless surface and a faded golden colour that gave them an understated look. The impresario lifted his left hand up, revealing that he was wearing an identical ring. “You’re now probationary members of the most elite society in Valdt — the Scions Club.”
Mallory mumbled, "Who names this shit?” She raised her voice as she continued, “Look we’re not escorts. And we’re not looking for escorts either, if that’s what this is about.”
“Not all,” responded the impresario. “Although, I’ll note that the art lords do run a sex cult. One of their many endeavours. However, membership there involves branding rather jewellery.” He laughed a bit.
“Is that where you got your start?” asked Mallory. “Or did the art lords find you MC’ing strip clubs on the dirty coast?”
“My beginnings were inauspicious. When I was a young boy, I swept floors and entertained male clients in a brothel outside of Valdt. Then, when I was of age, I began a moderately successful career as a gigolo. I still continue that work, although it is no longer my primary source of income.”
“Started as a bottom and worked your way up,” said Mallory in a somber tone. “Inspiring.”
The impresario either missed or ignored Mallory’s pun, which was incredibly poor in taste even by her own standards.
He cleared his throat, “With these rings, you can access a private gallery with an unmatched collection of fine art. It's been curated by the art lords themselves. There are paintings, sculptures, and many other objects of interest. Many of these pieces would be considered illicit elsewhere in Relmgard. I should note that the most prized items are arcane in nature.”
“You mean orbs?” asked Roland. “Like the one the art lords were just using?”
“You have a keen eye,” replied the impresario. “The recordings of all of the performances from tonight, and previous nights, are available to be viewed by members. In uninterrupted privacy, of course.”
“Nothing beats the amateur stuff, eh?” said Mallory.
“The club itself is located in this building, through a separate entrance to the side. It is open at all hours. Just make sure you have your ring on you to enter.”
Mallory turned to Roland. “Sounds like we’ve just gained access to the mother lode of premium jerk off material.”
***
It was still a few hours from dawn when they left Louisia and Edwin’s mansion. The air outside was calm, carrying the scent of a heavy downpour that had just ended. Mallory practically skipped across the wet stone streets as they headed back to her apartment. She was jubilant.
“I’ve been toiling away with a rhyming dictionary for weeks when all I had to do was walk up and puke on stage,” said Mallory as she shook her head. “Probably not worth the effort to psychoanalyze that pretentious twat, but do you think she enjoyed your bulimic act because she’s secretly an insecure teenage girl? Maybe that’s how she maintains her mummified husk of a figure. The ‘virtuous incantrix.’ Pfft. More like the anorexic lich.”
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She giggled a little.
“That couldn’t have worked out better for us. We get the invite and we got to see Valdt’s top power couple in action. Like the ancient proverb says: If someone is going to give you an anal fisting, you should know what size of gloves they wear before. I think Louisia’s hands are very small outside of her magical playroom.
“On the topic of anal, there’s a late-night chemist around here, should pick up some of that ivole gel she had. It’s still technically our wedding night. Let’s really have some fun.”
As they walked, Roland rubbed his neck, still feeling the phantom pain from Louisia’s noose. He looked extremely irritated.
“Relax,” continued Mallory. “I’ll only use one finger — at least at first.”
“I should have been killed back there,” said Roland.
“I doubt it. If she didn’t like your little piece of outsider art, she probably would have made you do some of her sexual nonsense. Pretty tame stuff. By the way, that deck of cards was definitely stacked. Louisia gave it away when she pulled out that ‘frosting card’ for the chick that was hiding a dinner plate under her mask. Far too perfect to be a coincidence. A face like that is begging to get decorated like a cake. I’m not even into facials and I enjoyed watching her get glazed.”
Roland thought about telling Mallory what had really happened but stopped himself.
“Geez. I hope you’re not going to be mean mugging everyone at the exhibition in a few weeks.”
It was starting to rain again, although it was still very light.
“I know something that will cheer you up,” said Mallory as she patted her bag of holding. “I have a collection of edging crystals from the World of Darkness.”
“I’ll pass,” said Roland. “Any curiosity I had about drugs completely disappeared after spending time with your brother.”
“These aren’t nose candy. They’re glass toys that vibrate when you use them. Whatever pervert infused them with magic really did her homework. The frequency and strength always change just the way you want them too. Just when you think you’re about to get there, it pulls the moment away from you. I only break them out for very special occasions because the enchantment is charge-based and I lost track of how many I’ve used up. Our triumph back there more than qualifies.” She squeezed Eliza’s petite waist, “Don’t worry, I’ll give you a full demonstration.”
“Aren’t you being a little premature in declaring victory? Are you even sure that Sera will be at the exhibit?”
“She’ll be there. Nick has been corresponding with her using forged letters. He’s been pretending to be Edwin. That spinster thinks that her first love wants to see her again. What an idiot.”
“Then what? You’re counting on her attacking Louisia and Edwin when she’s humiliated by Nick’s painting? The more likely outcome is that she’d just storm out of the exhibition and go back to her life as a recluse.”
“Nah, she’s unhinged. Once she sees that painting, she’ll put on a show. Not only is she the stupidest of the Chosen, she’s also the most impulsive. We just have to sit back and let that moody little star shine. She’ll light it up.”
“How many people will be there? Several hundred? You have no problem with putting them in harm’s way?”
She gave him a look of sarcastic disbelief.
“A bunch of self-fellating aristocrats and nouveau riche strivers. Look how provocative this art scene is! Well, they’ll learn how transformative art can be when it’s truly radical.”
“You sound like a fanatic.”
“Don’t get pious with me. What’s the one holiday that all of the states and kingdoms in Relmgard celebrate? The death of my father. They’re all accomplices. Any limb a bystander loses can go on the plus column of the karmic ledger.”
Mallory spit on the ground in disgust, but it was quickly washed away by the rain. It was starting to come down hard. They sought cover under an awning in front of a closed shop. Mallory took out her pipe and started smoking it as they waited.
“Mal, let me ask you: did you notice anything unusual about Louisia’s earrings?”
Mallory shrugged, “In terms of what? Quality? Yeah, they had real carnival prize look to them. Like something you’d get out of a claw machine.”
“No, they grant her True Sight. She can see through any illusion — even outside of that chamber. If I had spoken with a magically disguised voice in there, she would have recognized that I was Eliza.”
“Well lucky you didn’t.”
“That’s the thing — I did — and she tried to kill me.”
“Kill you? When? We had everything under control.”
“No, we didn’t. That evening happened twice. The first time I made a mistake and she recognized that I was Eliza. She then waited until the end of the performances and tried to execute me. However, we actually were lucky. I had initiated a time reversal spell earlier so that we could redo our performances. That guy who urinated on stage? He did it before. Louisia and Edwin loved it and gave him your spot at the exhibition. The second time through, I upstaged him by copying his act. Well, at least thematically.”
Mallory glowered at Roland as she processed his story. After a deep pull on her pipe, she began to question him.
“If you could send us back in time, why didn’t you try a plan with some actual balls to it? You could have blasted Louisia and I could have gone at Edwin with my spear. If either of us failed, you reset, and we try again.”
“Funny, the first time through I told you I was going to use some powerful magic, and you advised me to do the exact opposite of that. Regardless, attacking Louisia and Edwin wouldn’t have worked. The spell takes a few minutes to complete, and I have to move around freely while I cast it. It’s not actually useful for combat. We’d have been dead before I could even properly begin it.”
Leaning against the shop window, Mallory took a slow, contemplative puff on her pipe. Roland continued his explanation, well beyond what Mallory needed to know.
“Every time that spell is cast, reality pushes back against it more strongly. After a few repetitions across the same series of events it becomes impossible to cast as the required Magicka Flux will be enormous. Fortunate, really, as this is a natural mechanism against getting stuck in a time loop. It’s an incredible spell, but also severely limited.”
The two stood for a while, their thoughts focussed by the rhythmic sound of the rain.
“Mal, you don’t remember anything from the first evening, but I think Louisia is far more cunning than you realize. She only tried to kill me when I directly antagonized her. If I hadn’t forced her, I think she might have just let us leave and continued to watch us. Even now, there’s a chance she’s wise to our deception.”
“They’re all like that. Everything is a game; everyone is their plaything. That’s their weakness though: Just like infants, they’re completely unaware of their own mortality.”
“And what about you? They have good reason to think they’re immortal. You don’t.”
A sly look crossed Mallory’s face, “Why don’t I? From everything you've seen, how can you be sure that I'm not invulnerable?”
“What I’ve seen …” Roland hesitated. “When Louisia was choking me to death, out of the corner of my eye I saw you reaching into your bag of holding. I never saw what you were trying to pull out because a flying blade cut through you multiple times. You didn’t stand a chance. I passed out after that, but it must have been thrown by Edwin. His Celestial weapon was a winged projectile. The Omnistrike Slasher.”
After a long pause, Roland spoke again. “I just can’t do this. Not after what happened in there.”
Mallory dumped the ash in her pipe on the ground and put it away. “Ruin my fucking night,” she muttered.
“Don’t you need to avenge your incinerated brothers at Sages’ Keep?” asked Mallory in a mocking sarcastic tone.
Roland expected that Mallory wouldn't take his objections seriously, but he was surprised and annoyed that she would bring up the destruction of Sages' Keep.
“Well, that’s strange, isn’t it? I’ve thought about it a bit since I met the Hero of Relmgard and I don’t understand why he would raze Sages’ Keep if he was only after me. He seemed more precise — he wanted to watch me die with his own eyes.”
“Huh.”
“Yet, when we first met, you seemed to know that something was going to happen to the Keep and exactly when it was going to happen. Care to explain?”
“Explain what? The Hero didn’t destroy Sages’ Keep. Sera did. I’ve always known, because Nick and I have been writing letters to her using various pseudonyms for years. Her and Talon were the easiest marks, so we had targeted them first. Unlike Talon, though, that wretch keeps to herself, so we never found an opportunity to get close to her. When Talon told us that story about her relationship to Louisia and Edwin, I knew that was our chance to draw her out.”
“And —”
“And what? Why didn’t I tell you two years ago? Do I need to keep repeating myself? I didn’t know you at all back then, I wasn’t going to trust you with that information.”
“No. Why did she do it?”
“She’s a total loon. She had heard rumours that someone at Sages’ Keep was writing an unflattering account of her. I guess publishing anything short of a hagiography warrants indiscriminate death. In one of her letters to Nick and me she casually mentioned that she was going to level that place.”
“Who? Who was she angry at?”
“Some crank who printed up pamphlets with titles like The Secret History of the Chosen and Relmgard Revelations. Crap that intellectually retarded contrarians use to define their personality. Anyways, I don’t know his name because he only wrote anonymously, but he did reveal that he had moved to Sages’ Keep. Claimed he was taking on the main source false truths in Relmgard from the inside. A real champion for all of his manboy readers. I’m sure once all of those revolutionaries-to-be get over their fear of making eye contact with girls they’ll follow his lead and deliver Relmgard into a new era of prosperity and truth.”
“Master Keeling,” said Roland, shaking his head. “It had to be him. No one else at the Keep even comes close to matching that description. He had been there about a year and was always open with his questioning of any narrative surrounding the Heroic Age.”
“I’ll give him this, that cheap paper he used for his leaflets was actually pretty absorbent. I put a folded sheet in my panties once when I was spotting.”
The rain had stopped so they began walking again.
“I’m sorry for not telling you about Sera earlier,” said Mallory as she took Eliza’s hand. “And I’m not just saying that because I still want to have sex tonight. Although I sort of am.”
“You don’t have to apologize,” replied Roland. “Given our current situation, it doesn’t seem that important anymore.” He let out a deep breath. “Also, I suppose I never did thank you for saving my life back then.” Roland ran his hands through Eliza’s hair. “Well, my previous life.”
“All marriages have a give and take. Even in the best cases that can sometimes be purely transactional. Now, since we both agree that you owe me …”
Roland hadn’t been paying attention to where they were walking. Mallory directed him to look at the sign above the shop they were now standing in front of. It read ‘Modern Chemistry — All Night Apothecary.’
“Oh,” sighed Roland as he felt one of Mallory’s fingers glide up Eliza’s inner thigh.