It wasn’t until the morning after Dai’s predicted departure time that the Ysbrydfarer was ready to embark on its trip to Cyfoeth Port. The three-day sail would take them down Pwynt estuary from Glannau into the New King’s Ocean, where they would sail westward along the coastline until reaching the port.
Arwen had boarded in a rotten mood. She was having issues sleeping of late and was anticipating even worse nights now that she was aboard the Ysbrydfarer. Her insomnia came almost every night, and when she did sleep, nightmares of Bran, blood, and vampires haunted her until she shuddered awake. It always took a great deal of effort to return to sleep after awakening from a nightmare, but Arwen was especially struggling of late.
The first few hours were almost fun, for Linette was able to practise with her wind magic on the ship. Despite her inexperience, the lithe girl’s magic worked well with the already stirred up air from the south, and she was able to accelerate the Ysbrydfarer’s progress with ease. The young girl smiled from her position on the helm next to Dai, enjoying the chilly wind against her radiantly pale skin. “You’d think she’d get cold,” Dai muttered. “This wind is a bloody nightmare.”
But it worked, and even though it slowed them down a fair bit, Linette was equally capable of grounding the ship to a halt, though she struggled whenever Dai ordered the crew to try and fight against her by manipulating the sails. Even Sovereignty seemed impressed by the discovery, and praised the pirate’s ingenuity in utilising wind mages for ship-based warfare.
Another limitation was that while Linette could wrap the Ysbrydfarer around a vacuum of dead air, she could not do so whilst affecting the outside wind. This meant that the pirates either had a skilled wind mage, or simply employed multiple of them. Shielding and Sovereignty also made sure to remind them of the possibility that the winds were simply part of the illusion created by the Dark Orb. “This is fun!” she exclaimed between testing, but her face soon turned dour. “I just wish Maygan was here… I hope she isn’t lonely…”
Meanwhile, Arwen and her retainers, along with Linette and the Sages when they weren’t experimenting on the main deck, were confined in the lower deck for fear that the pirates were watching. The presence of the Sages and a Princess would almost certainly raise eyebrows, so the risk was simply not taken. This unfortunately meant that the three days to Cyfoeth Port was a boring, hot, and miserable experience, made only worse by Arwen’s continued insomnia. She must have been averaging around four or five hours of sleep a night, and was increasingly worn down by nightmares in her unconscious state. The crew, including the Sages and even her retainers, largely left her alone. They sensed her dour mood.
Once docked at Cyfoeth Port, most of the crew of the Ysbrydfarer were allowed off of the vessel whilst the rest loaded barrels and boxes of supplies onto the ship. Arwen stayed on board during this, though she insisted that the boys explore the port town while they could after they reluctantly offered to stay with her. She wanted to be alone, and watching the cooper fawn over the boarded barrels proved ample entertainment. Arwen even managed to take an unexpected nap, and awoke around three hours later with a pillow underneath her head, placed by someone while she had slept.
Getting off the Ysbrydfarer would do her some good, but there were… memories, there in Cyfoeth Port, that Arwen did not want to face in her state.
Three more days later, and Arwen was at her breaking point.
A cold wind had blown up from the south, sending annoyingly strong waves at the Ysbrydfarer, making moving around a living hell. Whenever Arwen sat still, a slow, building sense of nausea built up in her stomach until developing into full blown sickness, and she had even vomited at one point off the side of the ship. She wasn’t eating well, either, for any food would immediately send her stomach into a broil along with the rolling waves. Furthermore, the anxiety of the possible pirate attack was also wearing on her mind.
There were a few hours before docking at Glannau, and the possibility that the pirates would not attack started to become very real. This was a largely overlooked fact by the Ysbrydfarer’s crew, who would celebrate the arrival of fresh supplies into the village no matter what, but Arwen shared the Holy Sages’ frustration at the lack of action from their mystery adversaries.
A mere hour after deliberating their next moves upon docking, however, it finally happened. Dai’s yelling could be heard even in the lower decks, and though Arwen wanted to investigate, Sovereignty insisted she stay where she was, just in case.
Cain rushed down a minute later and grabbed Linette, confirming the pirate’s presence. “They’re about ten minutes out,” he informed them with a hint of fear as he led his daughter to the captain’s quarters.
Sovereignty nodded in confirmation. “I’ll guard the door to the quarters. Shielding, you stay with Arwen Blayney and her retainers. Ensure no harm comes to them.”
Shielding stood resolute, her Holy Lance by her side. “Right.”
And so, as the wind began to blow the harshest Arwen had ever heard it out at sea, they waited. The Princess felt a nervous anxiety creep up her back, sending a cooling adrenaline jolt through her body that began to erase all traces of weariness from her mind. For the first time in days, she felt alive, even as her heart began to pound in an anticipatory fear.
The yells and cries of the crew above confirmed their efforts to fight against the wind, but the slowing ship proved their resistance was in vain. Arwen channelled some of her magic outwards, her world lighting up in a star-show of lightning as each and every member of the crew was revealed. Cai’s lightning pattern pulsed as brightly as always, whilst a silvery pattern crouched in the captain’s quarters along with two generic-coloured shapes.
When searching outwards, however, the Princess saw nothing. Either the pirates weren’t close enough yet, or the hallucination effect of the Dark Orb had already taken hold and was even fooling her magic.
Sovereignty ran up from behind them at this point. “Wind mages,” he declared, gesturing upwards. “I wouldn’t have been fooled if the winds were an illusion, and Linette has been trying to fight them off.”
“Has she been any help?” Gwyn asked, half-shouting over the howling wind. It blew and gusted in vicious patterns, to the point they could feel it battering against the Ysbrydfarer’s hull as if trying to break in.
“Not much,” Sovereignty admitted. “She’s been a disruption more than anything effective. They almost certainly have more than one highly skilled wind mage on their side. Are they close by yet?”
“Don’t know!” Cai yelled in exasperation.
“Right,” Sovereignty turned back in the direction of the captain’s quarters. “I’ll get back to my post. As soon as the concussive blast takes effect, I’ll make my way up as planned and catch them in the act.”
It was when Sovereignty had gone that the winds suddenly died out, ensnaring the Ysbrydfarer in a bubble of completely calm air. The sudden cessation almost sent the entirety of the lower deck’s inhabitants stumbling, but they managed to maintain balance. Gone were howling winds and creaking wood, which had been replaced by a gentle rocking motion and lapping waves. The hatch above the group opened and Dai yelled to them from above. “They’re right alongside us.”
As they all climbed out, Arwen noticed the sweat on Dai’s brow and the slight shuddering in his fingers. “Is it the same?” she asked.
Dai nodded in confirmation. As Arwen rose to full height on the main deck, she noticed the crewless ship right alongside the Ysbrydfarer, just like she remembered from Dai. It was the same dead air, the same gentle rocking of the boats, the same absolute silence. Except, the crew of the Ysbrydfarer all stood-by with cutlasses drawn, instead of boarding the crewless ship like they had the previous time.
Arwen took a deep breath. “Here we go,” she muttered lowly, certain this would end in tears somehow.
This time, only a single pair of bodies were found on the crewless ship’s main deck. They were intertwined in what could be interpreted as a dance, though their crumpled state on the floor made it hard to ascertain. Arwen watched from behind her retainers as Cai knelt by one of the olive-skinned ‘dancers’ and searched for a pulse. “Still warm,” he stood. “No pulse, just like in Dai’s memories.”
Arwen shuddered. It was such a convincing illusion, that she briefly wondered if the Dark Orb simply transported the two ships into a pocket dimension in a similar process to her Light Gem. Her spine tingled, and she whirled on her feet. She was convinced the pirates were stood directly behind her, gleefully leering at her hallucinating self while she stumbled about their ship. She could almost picture one of them skewering her with a sword, and a cold sweat started to drench her back. “Let’s not waste time,” she growled at the boys, casting a look to the Ysbrydfarer to ensure the crew were still on their feet and watching. “Find the orb and get this over with!”
Gwyn shot her an alarmed look, shocked by her harsh reaction, but Arwen ignored him and strode directly to the poop deck. She shot furtive glances around herself, as if she could somehow catch one of the pirates in the act. Where they watching her now? Or where they hidden somewhere until the Dark Orb released its knock-out wave? Arwen’s sleep-deprived mind only further served to enhance her paranoia.
Inside the poop deck, the same luxurious room greeted the Princess as what she had seen in Dai’s memory. The same black-haired woman sat in the exact same position under a wide set of windows, basking her in the summer’s golden glow. And in her hands, was the object of their shared hallucinations.
The Dark Orb bent and warped the light around it in such a way that it gave Arwen a headache to look at. But the centre was glittering with the tiny pinpricks of a thousand trapped stars within its glassy exterior, hidden among pitch black space. She sensed her retainers quickly follow her into the room and raised a hand. “When Dai touched the orb, it knocked them all unconscious. I think we should refrain from making contact with it at all.”
“See if you can pry her hands away from it,” Cai suggested. “Maybe releasing it from her grasp would break the illusion.”
The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.
“Any idea, Shielding?” Owen asked their accompanying Holy Sage, but she shook her head.
Arwen shrugged and reached out a hand to the dead woman, but Gwyn put a hand on her shoulder. “Let me, in case something happens to you.”
The Princess shot him a nasty glare for that. Was she apparently incapable of doing even the simplest thing to him? But an emotion equal parts offended and confused passed through the Sentinel’s face before he lightly nudged her out of the way.
Gwyn slowly reached out to the woman’s arm, his fingers growing ever closer and closer with each passing moment. Arwen’s breathing froze as the sheer tension wove its way through her muscles. She watched as his outstretched edged perilously close, and exhaled slightly when he gently began to pry the corpse’s arm away from the artifice without repercussion. But as Gwyn managed to remove one of her hands, the dead woman suddenly moved in blinding display of speed and grabbed at Gwyn’s arm, pulling him close to her face. “It’s rude to touch the corpse,” her cold dead eyes stared lifelessly as her mouth twisted, whispering to him in heavily accented Deinian. “Who are you, to know my tricks?”
Gwyn couldn’t manoeuvre his lance in such an awkward position, so he simply dropped it and lashed out at the woman with his free fist, but the world slowly disappeared in a swirling haze as the blow phased through her, rippling in a nauseating pattern. Arwen briefly saw Shielding sweep by her to aid the Sentinel, but it was too late. In the middle of the crewless ship, with a moving and talking corpse, Arwen, her retainers, and an elite Holy Sage lost consciousness.
-cut-
Gwyn Myrick couldn’t see or hear anything, but he could feel his own body floating in an endless dark grey abyss. He desperately tried to align himself, to find a point of reference to which he could tell which way was up or down, but instead he found himself uselessly rolling around in the middle of nothingness.
He opened his mouth to yell out, but no sound came out of his lips. He felt his muscles contract, his throat vibrate as his vocal chords worked, but not a single bit of noise escaped from his mouth. He was powerless to speak, to effectively move, to even see or hear.
He next tried to grasp with his hands, perhaps trying to see if he could grab a hold of something… anything, just to feel. But he found no luck in his endeavour, either.
A voice suddenly called out from the endless abyss.
Gwyn Myrick... my, I’ve caught myself a special one.
The voice was neither male nor female, and was distorted in such a way that it almost sounded demonic to the Sentinel’s ears. He tried to call out to the voice, but he was still utterly mute.
Don’t struggle, there’s no escape. Now… let’s see who we’re dealing with here.
A brief silence ensued, before it spoke up again.
How interesting. Nothing ten years into your future. Hmm… let’s try five, shall we?
Gwyn whirled around, trying to ascertain the source of the voice, but it came from all directions equally and was impossible to try and identify.
Nothing for five either… interesting. Alright, Gwyn, let’s see what you could be like, then.
…
My, what a sad sight. Want to see?
Gwyn’s world turned black, but he was still aware of his entire body, so he felt confident he didn’t pass out. When his vision returned, however, so did all feeling and sensation.
He now stood on a dark, grassless plain, which expanded outwards into a circular wall, extending upwards over him in a globe-like shape. The ‘sky’ to which it formed was alight with shimmering stars, densely packed together in what would’ve been a beautiful sight were Gwyn not so terrified or confused.
“Who are you?”
Gwyn whirled around at the sound of a low, gravelly voice.
And gasped.
A man of average height stood facing him, with shaggy brown hair draping over his face, slightly obscuring his boring brown eyes. He had a long face with narrow features, though less pronounced due to the luscious brown beard lining his chin and stretching up to his cheeks.
He was Gwyn. He had to be. Though this new man looked to be almost thirty years old.
“Gwyn?” the older version of himself asked. “Is that… me?”
Real Gwyn simply stood agape for a moment, before finally finding his voice. “Are you me?”
“Wh- what are you fighting for?” Old Gwyn asked, completely ignoring his counterpart’s question.
“What am I… fighting for?”
Old Gwyn pressed his mouth in a thin line. “I used to believe that if I kept fighting, kept pushing, that all would work out in the end... but that was a lie.”
Real Gwyn took a tentative step closer. “What are you talking about?” he couldn’t figure out what was going on. Where was he?! Was he still unconscious in the pirate ship or had he truly been transported to this new dimension? Was he hallucinating, or was this… real?
“When I was your age, when I was… you. I thought that I could become a hero,” Old Gwyn’s eyes seemed to shimmer as he spoke, “even if I hated the word. But what is the point?!”
When Real Gwyn didn’t answer, the older man took an aggressive step forward. “What is the point?!”
“To do good in the world,” Real Gwyn said the first thing that popped into his head. “To leave my mark on the earth, in a good way. To protect others.”
Old Gwyn laughed sarcastically. “Oh, that’s good… but what about me? What about my protection? My happiness? Everyone respects me, some even fear me… but why be a hero when no one ever understands?! I’m sick of everyone sympathising, but never empathising! I’m just… so… lonely.”
Real Gwyn’s face twisted into a pained expression. He had no idea whether this was a reflection of his future, but he still felt incredibly shaken by what he saw regardless. “What are you trying to say?”
“Don’t become me,” the reply was immediate. “Leave the army, find some honest work, and find someone who truly loves you. Don’t get caught up in the lifestyle, parading around like some God while everyone sings your praises. The compliments are all fake, the promises all lies, the sex meaningless… everything just becomes worthless at some point.”
“I couldn’t ever become you,” Real Gwyn shook his head. “I have friends, a purpose in life. I have people who need me, who rely on me.”
“You don’t get it!” another step closer as Old Gwyn hissed out his response. “You’re already me! Where’s your girlfriend? Your friend who truly… gets you? Tell me you don’t live in an empty house, too afraid to connect because no one could ever understand!”
“I…” Real Gwyn’s resolve faltered as the older man’s words struck true. “I’m not…”
“Lying to yourself?” Old Gwyn asked rhetorically. “We are so, so very good at that. I told myself it’ll all work out in the end- give me five years! – and I’ll be happily settled down with a family and kids, but then the five years came and went, and I still stood alone, suffering my meaningless relationships with people who all somehow think I’m better than them. I found I was no longer human. I was a prize. A prize for my country to shelve on their trophy cabinet, a prize for the women, for my so-called friends. And when I cut them out of my life for the better… I found I had no one left.”
Real Gwyn splayed his hands. “Then what do you want me to do?!”
“Promise me you’ll change the course you’ve set yourself on! Promise me that you won’t become me! Please!”
“Okay…” Real Gwyn promised, if only to settle down his agitated counterpart. “I will…”
-cut-
Not ten years, but five years? At least this one has a future… Oh well, let’s see you, then.
Owen Voyle found himself standing in a globe of stars, facing a slightly taller version of himself, stood proudly in a camouflaged uniform, obscuring silvery motes underneath. A large, custom-made bow rested on his shoulder. His hair had been cut shorter than his younger self, though his eyes were still the same shade of green. Although appearing nearly identical, Owen could tell the years had matured the older version’s face.
“I never truly got over the betrayal, you know,” Future Owen said in way of a greeting. “It still weighs on me, even if I try to hide it.”
Owen stilled. He had not expected his own voice to sound so… familiar to him. “What betrayal?”
“But the fame!” Future Owen suddenly grew fervent. “Seeing that bitch get what she finally deserved felt good, too! And I was finally recognised for my talent! Instead of guarding some stuffy Princess, I actually got the position I deserved!”
Present Owen was utterly perplexed. “Are you saying I betray someone, and get rewarded for it? Or do I get… betrayed?”
“Seeing that fucking girl get a knife through the eye was a horrible experience,” Future Owen continued as if he hadn’t heard Present Owen’s question. “But I can’t help but feel satisfied by the outcome.”
“A… knife through the eye?”
Future Owen suddenly clutched at his head, dropping his bow on the floor as he scratched at his hair. The present Owen stood utterly perplexed at the sight before him. He wondered what the fuck was happening. “Arghh!” his counterpart grunted. “But what if she comes for me?! They say she’s in a coma… but what if she wakes up?! Maybe she wouldn’t remember… maybe they wouldn’t let her… but I can’t live with the paranoia. I can’t!”
“Can you tell me what’s going on?!”
Future Owen lunged at his younger counterpart and grabbed him by the shoulders, even as he instinctively struggled against the older man. He leant in until his eyes were uncomfortably close with Present Owen’s. “Does the fame sound good? Do you want to be finally respected? Recognised? Do you want to go home to your girl?”
Present Owen stared right back. “Uh…y-yes?”
And he did want all those, despite his intense unease at his older counterpart. It sounded… good. He had always to earn recognition from his country, always wanted to respect of his peers. He also sorely missed his beloved girlfriend. Future Owen nodded, his intense gaze never breaking. “Then do what needs to be done."
-cut-
Another one with a presence neither ten nor five years in the future? Oh, dear. Well, another approximation it is.
At least you’re actually interesting.
It was Cai Huws turn to suddenly face a near-thirty-year-old version of himself, and he immediately cocked his head in surprise, his mouth ever-so-slightly agape as his eyes lay upon what he could become.
The Old Cai had grown ever taller, his muscles even bigger. His radiant skin glowed brighter than ever, his features only growing sexier with age. “Hello, young me.” Old Cai’s voice was as deep and luscious as his dreams.
“Who… who the hell are you?”
“I’m you, brother. And, soon, you’ll become me. A handsome, sexy, dashing knight of such great skill and renown that all across Cyfoeth knows my name.” Old Cai laughed. “Only joking, of course! But in seriousness, I… sometimes impress even myself.”
“You’re…” Real Cai was awestruck.
“You followed your dreams, took it down the path to completion.” Old Cai appeared to have a flair for dramatics, if his incessant gesturing was anything to go off of. “I knew you had it in you. Becoming a retainer to the Princess propelled me to great heights within Cyfoeth, and it gave me the opportunity to develop myself further. I became the ideal knight we always dreamed of.”
As good as that sounded, and it did sound so, so good, Cai had a niggling question on his mind. “Do I still… talk to anyone? To Owen? To Gwyn? To Arwen?”
Old Cai leaned forward where he stood, twisting his head as a bewildered expression contorted his features. “To any of… them? Why would I ever still do that? They were always a means to your end, Cai, you know that.”
Real Cai swallowed. He had first seen Old Cai as a dream come true… but maybe he was simply the amalgamation of one of his fears. He’d tried hard to engage with his fellow knights, invested so much into even Arwen, who had always seemed too caught up in her own problems to fully recognise him, but it seemed he would inevitably fail to connect. It was a real issue to Cai, who had difficulties empathising with even his parents nowadays. After Brynne, he had found himself building high-stone walls, impenetrable to anyone who didn’t serve a purpose to him. “Do you… have a wife?”
“Come on!” Old Cai scoffed, splaying his hands by his sides. “We both know women only hold us back! They get in the way of the dream!”
This was definitely as feared. Cai had tried so hard to shun that side of himself, to maintain friends and companionship despite his desire to focus solely on himself, but if Old Cai was trying to convince him that path was the one to take, he was failing badly. “I wouldn’t become you,” he declared, taking a step back as if the confession would enrage his older self into attacking. “I’ll compromise. I’ll build myself up while keeping connections. I know I can do it.”
“Cai…” Old Cai’s chest heaved as he released a heavy sigh. “I thought you smarter, my young man. It was because I turned away relations that I achieved the heights I did. Cyfoeth values not those who dally in the military, but those who turn it into their entire lives. Do you get it? It’s all or nothing! You either live your dream, or keep dreaming.”
“Then I’ll keep dreaming,” Real Cai held himself steady. “I’d rather that than become you.”
Old Cai scoffed and shook his head. “You fucking idiot. But fine,” he held his hands by his shoulders in a shrug, “have it your way…”