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When Eske woke up covert in sweat and vomit, he decided that perhaps it was time to do some math. He threw his clothes on the washer, started the coffee machine and took a quick shower.
Now let's count rabbits. Eske met Day for the first time in 1938. From what he remembered, the guy looked in his late 30, maybe 40. But in 1961, he was way older. 60, perhaps 65? In this timeline, he died at 19, and in the last dream, he looked 20-ish.
So, in conclusion, Day is not a Time Traveler. He ages, and he also died two times, at least to his knowledge. One of them he was the cause of death. Now how does the guy show up everywhere and everywhen, and still Day recognises him every time they meet?
Let's think for a moment. Even if Day repeats himself through timelines, he couldn't possibly remember who he is. Could he? How? What would be the instrument for that? And then it hit Eske. His time footprint was zero, almost as if he didn't exist. What would be the result of someone with 100%? And what would it mean?
He wondered if Day, from the present timeline, had ever taken samples of his own blood to test. And if yes, would Alice have the results with her? Could he ask it just like that? Oh hey, I killed your boyfriend back in the day and wondered if he exists in every existential plan. Yeah, no.
And why did he care? It is not like he existed now. But, the way he looked at Nona. That nervous feeling to be around her, he knew it too well. But things didn't add up. If he cared about her or even loved her, why did he beat her last time, and the way she described it to him, it seemed like it was the most normal thing. This means it wasn't the first time.
But being on Day's skin taught him a couple of things. The location is not Earth. It is Io, one of Jupiter's moons. The Bazaar Town is one of the few settlements on the moon. And Nona was a serf.
She was not owned by anyone but belonged to the settlement. At least the soup can mystery is solved. Or I least, Eske thinks so. She served the people. She didn't work for money, or in this case, tokens. She just served. Would the device be some sort of restraint? There were so many questions.
Nona never spoke about her past, and Eske felt dizzy with all the possibilities. The more he walked on those yellow streets, the more a foul taste in his mouth would clutch on his tongue.
And more importantly, should he know? What is the line where he is transpassing her boundaries? Well, he couldn't say she was gone and didn't come back. Was he hoping to find an answer, like where and when she was?
Has he walked out of the bathroom, he saw a Nona standing in front of him. She looked different, still the same but different, more mature but not old. She hadn't aged. She just looked wiser.
This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.
She was wearing a tube teal tube dress with elegant flat shoes. Her hair was carefully tied in a ponytail. She wore makeup. Eske never saw her, even with lipstick. She looked beautiful but sad, almost as if she could see Eske. He noticed her hands. She wore a golden ring, and as his gaze went up, he saw she didn't have their tattoo anymore. Instead, there was a scar as if it was burned.
'You married.'; he whispered. 'You got married. And you erased me?'
Her apparition didn't move, didn't say anything. Eske didn't know his heart could be broken once more. 'I thought all this time you would be in danger. I was worried sick, and you just started a new life without me? Please tell me you're happy, that he treats you well, and that you have everything you deserve. I mean, tell me something, so I can fucking move on.'
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She stayed quiet. It was a never-ending silence until a small figure walked to her legs, and Nona lifted up the child. He couldn't see the kid's face or hear any sound. A teardrop fell down his cheek. He turned away and saw the girl from Io: 'Will you take it off?'
Eske stood there between two versions of Nona, looking at nothing. His head felt heavy, his eyes burned, and he wanted to scream, to shout, but all he could feel was the deep sorrow of a love that died without even a proper goodbye. He realised she had lied to him. Nona once told him to believe he would always find her. And he didn't because she wasn't lost.
Eske returned to his room, opened his clothes and picked up his best suit and tie. While he was calling her: 'Hi Alice, is Eske.'
'Is everything fine?' she asked, worried.
'Yes, everything is fine. I feel like I have lifted a weight from my shoulders. Finally.'; Eske lied. And he knew he was lying. He felt that the burden had been merely shifted, not removed or even diminished. It would return again soon enough and with renewed force. But it seemed now as though there was an end of its power over him for this night at least.
'Really? Are you going to stop?'; she enquired anxiously. 'I know how hard things can be when....'
He laughed at how ridiculous his story became: 'I was wondering if you want to grab a drink or go to a movie. Anything, actually.'
She hesitated only momentarily before answering: 'Did you run out already?'
'No. I'm actually asking you on a date if you're still interested. No second intentions, I mean, there are second intentions but nothing that involves...' His voice trailed off uncertainly into silence. She did not respond immediately, and he thought perhaps he'd made some kind of faux pas in presuming upon such sudden intimacy after all these years. Then suddenly she said softly: 'Tomorrow is workday, so...'
'Of course, I didn't think of that. I'm really sorry, I should...'
She interrupted him: 'I was thinking. Instead, you could come to my place and spend the night over. How does that sound?'
'Sounds perfect! I'll be there in a minute.'; he smiled. He hung up and began buttoning his shirt in front of the mirror. Over his right shoulder, he still saw her and tried to ignore it. To erase it from his head. Nona was sitten over his bed, drenched in blood, with her body half shredded by bites. Chunks of her arms and legs were missing, and bone was exposed.
Eske pretended with all his might to ignore, to not feel. This was no longer his story. Or at least that is what he told himself over and over again.
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