Maygan 3 staggered out of the darkness and came to rest upon the rusted doorframe, unsure if she could muster the strength to pass through it. Oh, how Master Ko would be disappointed. Her mangled left arm hung limp by her side, blood plip-plipping from her fingers onto the dusty ground. It was only a moment but the a pool of red grew quickly beneath her. Years of intense mental training helped to silence the pain screaming through her body. But the fear of what waited for her on the other side of the door remained alive within her. She could hear it, feel it clawing at her confidence. And that was a failure.
Fear is a mindset, she reminded herself. It is temporary for the end is at hand.
After she found her breath, she checked her appearance. Thankfully the black shirt hid the pooling blood, but the sleeve was torn at the shoulder, exposing the gruesome state of her arm. “No. No. This will not do.” She knew to hide her wounds, both physical and mental, for pain and weakness were sustenance to their kind. Offering her pain freely would be the world’s undoing.
Tucked under her good arm was a thick, leather-bound book. She knelt down and let it slide gently to the ground as she began to remove the heavy pack from her shoulders. She took a deep breath before removing the strap from her left shoulder. She remembered her training and turned her mind inward as the straps slid past the exposed nerve endings.
With the pack on the ground, she picked through the contents trying not to make large, painful movements.The pack was a mess. She laughed out loud to mask the frustration she felt with her untidiness. Frustration was not tolerated by Master Ko. Inside was a mess, packed without discipline, shaken by combat. How similar to her mental state, she thought. If she survived, she promised she would be more organized. She pulled a thin poncho from the bag and eased it over her head.She thought again to Master Ko who sung the praises of functional garments and how she told him that she’d rather die than wear something tacky.
But here she was. Poncho Maygan. But at least now the worst of her wounds were hidden from sight. She looks at the pack on the ground and decided to leave it rather than attempt to put it back on again. Nothing inside was irreplaceable.
The two samurai swords threaded through the belt on her hip cast a faint warm glow in the darkness like deep creatures trying to communicate in the deep sea. Maygan saw the glow and was touched.
“Yes. I’ll be okay. Yes. We’re going inside,” she said to darkness. “Yes, that’s a fine idea,” she said. She inhaled deeply before gripping her injured arm and balancing it upon the hilts of the sword where the pose looked more natural. If she was lucky, it was enough to not arouse suspicion.
She pushed against the door and it began to swing open. She wondered if there would be a day in the future where the world would thank her for finding the strength to not only take those steps. Master Ko disapproved of such selfish thoughts.
Even in her condition, a walking wound draped in an old poncho, Maygan was striking. Her raven black hair swept over the back of her neck and over her right shoulder, tendrils reaching toward the ground. The two samurai swords at her hip glowed with a magical intensity, a beacon of light upon her. Such beauty was wasted as her audience was not moved by such things.
The Room of the Final Moment was structureless, constructed from the inky darkness of the universe. In her first visits she walked as if balanced on an invisible wire suspended in deep space, afraid of falling into the abyss. In her youth, she was stupid, she thought.
Maygan curtsied and shouted “Maygan 3 calls forth the council. Let’s put this deal to bed.”
“Maygan 3,” a familiar voice bellowed. The vaguely humanoid creature Maygan knew as Timekeeper sat at the far end of a long blocky obsidian table. Timekeeper, a being made of equal parts flesh and machine, sat motionless with its arms stretched out upon the table in a commanding pose. He watched her approach without emotion. Maygan focused on making each movement appear normal, without pain. She watched Timekeeper’s large bloodshot eyes through the rectangular slit in his domed helmet, watching for any sign of danger. But thankfully, it was only the familiar murderous eyes that stared back. The creature wheezed and crackled with each slow, labored breath but took no action upon her.
The appearance of Timekeeper filled her heart with dread, but his purpose filled her with terror.Embedded into the creature’s broad, thick chest was a grim timepiece, its hour hand carved from bone, minute hand borne of flesh, and second hand forged from metal. The time was 11:59:00.
The shock of seeing the time interrupted Maygan’s focus and a slight limp emerged in a step. She went back to her training to smother the embers of fear.
“Timekeeper, it’s been a long time. I’m pleased to find you in such good health,” Maygan 5 said forcing the air over her tongue and through her mouth as to disguise her flagging energy.
“How fortunate for you that I still live. For ages I’ve rested here, hoping to never see you again. And although you stand before me now, you must know our end approaches,” Timekeeper said. “Although I must say I am unaccustomed to the figure that stands before me now. Your fashion sensibilities have weakened. The Maygan I know is much more arrogant and flamboyant in her presentation.”
“Oh nonsense,” Maygan said, resorting to her trained smile. “This is the new style. And I feel wonderful, thanks for asking. But you, you are the picture of health. I bet you’ll be sitting here for at least another epoch.” With her good arm, she set the leather book down upon the table as delicately as possible, as naturally as possible. Timekeeper made no move.
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“One epoch ends, another begins. Surely you must sense this, Maygan 5.” Behind Timekeeper, in the absolute darkness, an ill defined mist crept forward, gradually sharpening into the silhouettes of hundreds of hideous creatures.Maygan’s hand moved reflexively to her swords. The mist always made her nervous. The army of transparent creatures moved just behind Timekeeper but made no attempt to advance further. As long as Timekeeper breathed, the hard line between peace and violence remained. Maygan bet her life that it would not change that day.
The rustle of voices rose just above the sound of Maygan’s breathing. They were cowardly, she thought. “Your friends are lovely,” Maygan said. “They forget my abilities are extraordinary for my kind.”
“Ignore their childish insults and come closer, Maygan. Let us finally end this war.”
Still smiling, with a shove Maygan slid the book across the smooth surface of the table. Timekeeper caught it with meaty hands and regarded the cover. “Compendium Terminus. Fuck this book, and fuck you Maygan 5. Respectfully, of course,” Timekeeper snarled beneath the thick iron helmet.
Maygan bowed slightly and did not regret the pain. She watched as Timekeeper flipped through the book a page at a time, growling, cursing with each new page. The pain within her burned each second, and she wished this one time Timekeeper would be less thorough. The beast paused for a moment, as if listening to something. “Your captives speak highly of you,” Timekeeper said pointing to the two sheathed samurai swords on Maygan’s waist. “They too must be weary of this game. Why not leave them here? Where they belong?”
“Leave them? Here? My heavens, no. Oh yes, both love to talk about the old times. And maybe they talk too much,” Maygan said in a delightful tone.“But our debts have not yet settled. Besides I enjoy their company.” It was a lot of words and each drained a little bit more from her body. But she remained steady.
Timekeeper closed the thick book with a loud thud and grunted. “It appears you’ve completed your part of the deal.”
The Room came alive with brilliant energy. A rhythmic strobing of deep sound, reverberated in her chest. The Compendium Terminus opened itself upon the table and a brilliant light shone forth, like a star born into darkness.
“I always forget my sunglasses for this part,” Maygan said, shielding her eyes from the light.
Hundreds of lights like brilliant fireflies lept from the pages, circling and twisting around each other, bursting outward into the darkness. Newly birthed, they zigged and zagged without purpose or direction, but soon their motion settled, and they joined the vaporous creatures around behind Timekeeper. Then the lights flickered and disappeared.
When the last of the light faded, Timekeeper closed the book and shoved it back across the table to Maygan’s waiting hand. With careful movements, she placed the book under her arm once again, holding a steady smile in her turbulent sea of pain.
Timekeeper grunted once more, but this time with a twinge of regret. It stood over the table on its legs of exposed muscle and bone, and thrust out its chest as if the clock were trying to rip itself free. Timekeeper wound the minute hand backwards, placing the new time at 11:57:00. The motion of the clock appeared to heal the beast. After it was done the creature stood upright and breathed freely without effort.
“I feel rejuvenated. How…unfortunate,” Timekeeper said.
Among the demonic shapes Maygan spotted another presence. Not a demonic form, but a human. It’s body as transparent and thin as the others, it was restrained, held back by captors. She had imagined this moment in her head, wondering how it would all play out in the end. “Now we must talk about the terms of the deal, Timekeeper,” Maygan began. “First you must- “
Timekeeper roared into the darkness, shooting upright as if jolted by electricity. Its hands moved about the clock frantically, the beast screaming in pain. The new time was 11:59:58. The spirits swirled and dashed, agitated. Excited. The human shape faded into nothingness again.
“I feel deathly ill. Glorious,” it said through a wet wheeze.
Maygan forgot her training and her smile dropped from her face. She unsheathed a sword from her hip, jostling her wounded arm, but not noticing. She took a step toward Timekeeper and the mist swirled and moaned. “Timekeeper, I can’t help but notice you seemed to have not only undone my work, but accelerated the clock a great deal. What treachery is this? Explain yourself,” she said sword raised in a provocative pose.
“As you know, time has passed while you have been in the timeless Room of the Final Moment. As we speak, your world dangles precariously about the abyss. Darkness seeps into mankind, but they do not fear it. No, they embrace the dark impulses and pervert the laws of the universe to satisfy their greed. That world is at its end.”
Timekeeper sat down at the dark table, hands folded and calm, but his breathing was ragged and sporadic as if at the end of his time. “But my guests are willing to honor the terms of the agreement.” The mist hissed and swirled. “You just need to sign here,” Timekeeper said, holding a pen made of bone, to a long sheet of skin covered in markings.
Maygan looked at the contract and her hand desperately wanted to grab the pen and sign her name. More than anything she wanted to end the ordeal that had consumed her life.
Timekeeper sensed her internal struggle. “You can become Maygan 2 again,” he said, hoping to seal the deal.
She peered into the darkness hoping to see the human shadow among the mist. She wanted to signal him, to reassure him that she would return. But it was gone. “As tempted as I am to finalize the deal and move on, I cannot in good conscience do so. It appears I still have work to do.”
“Our time is over. Their time has come. You know this,” Timekeeper said.
“I value your opinion, but I respectfully disagree. I’ll be back soon. And then we’ll talk about completing the deal.” She gave one last look to the mist and turned her back on Timekeeper. She strode back to the doorway leading back to her world, head held high. A pool of red remained where she was standing.
“Goodbye Maygan 3.”
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