(Brooks)

I'm really, really pissed off right now. Flame returned, appearing out of nowhere, as if teleporting within the academy's barriers was something everyone could do, not just Teacher and Caleb, grabbed Owen right in the middle of class, and then vanished.

Jared apparently got rescued by Flame, whose magic is somehow more powerful than it was before he left for whatever Jared wanted him to do, and they vanished in front of the guards.

Trying to contain my frustration, I go into the city, since at least today is Saturday, and I can do stuff without the distraction of classes, which don't distract me from what's going on.

As I walk through town, I begin to sense someone different. Powerful aura and Ability, evading notice, though not with an Ability or magic. They're just that good at sneaking around.

For half an hour, I track them, watching. It's a boy around my age, with sandy blond hair and eyes the color of milk chocolate, a splash of freckles across his nose. His clothes are decent, and his skin is clean, but the dragon in me knows that he doesn't have a home.

I can smell it. He smells nice, actually, but not like he sleeps in a bed, just the ground or whatever hole he can find at the time.

Something about the way he moves is unnerving. He's got a thin layer of aura coating his skin, like Kieran usually does, but his isn't invisible. It seems to make him move faster without actually speeding him up. I can't figure out how it works.

It takes my draconic speed to keep up with him, and another half hour passes before I realize what's going on.

His aura is influenced by the power of time, and it lets him move at a different rate in time than the rest of us. For every moment that passes for us, several pass for him.

His stomach rumbles, and he looks around, then catches sight of a small produce store.

If his aura is infused with the power of time, then he's a powerful Time Superhuman. He's likely used to stealing what he needs, to survive.

I run forward my hand touching him just as everything around us stops.

He lets out a scream of surprise, jerking away from me and turning around, taking several steps back.

"Who are you?" He demands to know. "How did you know I was going to do that?"

He continues to demand answers as I stare into his eyes. They're no longer brown in color, but silvery, with a golden dot slowly rotating around them, like a second hand moving.

"Hey!" He yells, his aura flexing around him, shaping into a spear beside him. "Who the fuck are you?"

"How did you do that with your aura?" I ask, and he throws the spear at me. I deflect it with my own aura, and it fades away. "I'm Brooks Hansen, and I work for the GSDF. I saw a thief about to act, and went to stop them. You froze time before I could stop you, but it appears I got caught in it."

"How did you know I was going to do that?" He asks. "And how did you know I was going to steal?"

"I have good ears," I tap my right ear. "I heard your stomach growling, and could smell the streets on you, despite how clean you are. Judging by the fact that your aura allowed you to move at a rate different to the rest of us, it was clear you were a powerful Time Manipulator."

"Few know that happens," he still looks on-guard.

The power of that spear was immense, and I'm going to have a bruise as a result. If he truly wanted to fight me, even my draconic side won't be enough to stop him. Even if I wanted to kill him, I can't do the things Flame can, not yet.

How is there such a powerful Superhuman and aura-user who isn't an agent?

Unless…

"Is your last name Rivers?" I ask, and he stares at me with nothing short of confusion and shock in his eyes. "Another one, huh?"

"Another one?"

"Caleb Rivers," I say. "Kieran Rivers."

"You know them?" He takes a step forward. "They're alive?"

"Kieran's believed to be dead," I say. "After he faced a more powerful Perception a week or so ago. No one knows what happened to his body. Caleb is alive, though I'm not sure where he's at. He's been wandering the world, avoiding the cold. I'm a member of his team."

"I don't believe you," he says. "You know him, but you're not a member of his team. You could be saying that, trying to get me to trust you. Give me one reason I shouldn't accelerate the age of your body to the point you turn to dust?"

He can do that?

His eyes tell me that he has no hesitations when it comes to killing, so if he can, he probably will. Even so, if we were to get into a fight, I doubt he'd care about civilian casualties, and that would be a huge cripple to me.

He'd go all-out in a fight, and there's no way I'd be able to win. Whoever he is, he's too powerful.

"A Perception named Thomas," I say. "Another boy from your orphanage, was alive, but attacked Caleb and tried to kill him. Caleb was forced to kill him. Kieran and Caleb were both saved by another Creator, though they don't know who. Caleb somehow transferred Jon's power into Kieran, and when my brothers died, did the same thing with their powers to me and my twin, Flame. I'd call Caleb for you, but his phone's been out of a service area for the last month or so, and Kieran's is doing the same thing.

"Why don't you release this whatever," I say, and he forms another spear. "And I'll treat you to a full meal at a restaurant. I'm a Superhuman with the power of Manipulation over three elements, can command aura, know magic, and have an ancient, primal force within me. A Time of your caliber wouldn't be able to do anything to me, judging by the two spears of aura you've formed so far."

Not even remotely close to being true, but the confidence I'm putting on definitely instills hesitation in those eyes of his, which then turn back to his ordinary brown, time resuming.

I tell him to follow me, then walk to a decent restaurant nearby. I was planning on eating here, anyway.

Dealing with him will be helpful in ignoring what's going on with my team, and the fact that no one will tell me anything.

"How may we help you today?" The hostess asks after I flash my cadet badge.

"Table for two, please," I tell her.

"What did you show her?" The boy asks as she leads us to a table.

"GSDF and GMDF cadets are allowed to eat at pretty much any restaurant," I explain. "Regardless of their policies. There are some that aren't required to, but for the rest, they have to, even if they ordinarily wouldn't allow minors. I was on my way to this one when I ran into you."

We scan the menus and order our drinks, and when we finally order food, he orders a ton. He's probably like those of us with our dragons awakened, plus Caleb – burning it and immediately converting it into fuel for our powers.

When our food arrives, he eats as if it's been a long time since he last ate well, and I throw up a silencing barrier around us, so that we can't be overheard. It was one of the first spells Caleb taught us, once we could manage constructed spells. He said it was an important spell for any real magician.

"So," I say. "My name's Brooks."

"Adam," the dragon in me says that's a lie, his body's rhythms just barely changed. He doesn't fully trust me, but that's fine. "How did you meet Caleb?"

"After he finished basic," I answer. "He arrived at the academy with the rest of the cadets who completed basic in that set, then got roomed with Flame, my twin, who had to do basic over again, after getting kicked out in the one we were doing together with our other two brothers – the ones who are dead. We met then, when we went to greet Flame and congratulate him on not getting kicked out. We had to leave the room, because he wanted to sleep."

"Caleb?" He scoffs. "Sleep? As if! Caleb doesn't like sleeping, and will usually run until he's almost passed out."

"The Caleb before then," I say. "But watching everyone he loved die in front of him changed that. He's changing again, becoming more open, but he's still like the boy I met last summer. Though he did quit the GSDF because of unfair treatment, and has refused to return because it was too cold. It's probably warm enough for him to return, now, but he's been unreachable the last several weeks, and I get the feeling that everyone on my team knows why, but won't tell me. It probably has to do with Jared taking care of the Sage's son, too."

'Adam' snorts when I say that last part, and I stare at him.

"What?" I ask.

"Any real friend of Caleb's would know what," he says.

"Know what?" I ask. "Are you meaning to say that Caleb is the Sage's son? That's bullshit – Caleb's the son of a dragon."

'Adam' stares at me, and it makes me uncomfortable, but as he does, I realize what he's saying.

"The Sage is a dragon."

"An ancient, powerful dragon," he nods. "I don't know about now, but when we were little, Caleb said he didn't think his dad knew about him – something about magic sperm."

The waitress chokes, having stepped inside the barrier just before he said the last two words.

"We're talking about how someone was conceived," he tells her. "I'm ready to order dessert."

We order our desserts, then she leaves, and I try to digest both my meal and what he told me.

If Caleb is the son of the Sage, then is it him Jared's taking care of? I thought it was a little kid?

"What kind of things could Caleb do with his Realities?" I ask. "He's hesitant to use them, after what happened. He's only recently accepted that it wasn't his Realities that caused everyone to die, and so still doesn't use them often."

"He'd make a bunch of game areas," he answers. "We'd all have fun in them. He could also manifest miniature Realities, sort of like summoning an item. He'd usually do Water Gun Roulette, a game where you'd pick a number between one and one hundred, then he'd flip a coin. If it landed with the top up, you'd get that many squirts of the liquid in the gun in your eyes. If the bottom was up, you'd get the opposite number of squirts. Anytime he summoned the gun or spun it on one finger, the liquid inside was different."

"That was a Reality Marble?"

"Yeah," he nods. "They can interact with the real world. In theory, he could even turn himself into a Reality Marble, though he never tried it. At least, not to my knowledge."

Our dessert arrives, and we eat it in silence, then he thanks me for the meal and vanishes.

He stopped time and got away before I could react. At any moment, he could have fled.

Sighing, I pay the check, then leave, checking my phone for any word. When I do, I find a call I missed, along with a voicemail.

It was from Mission Control, at the academy.

I call my voicemail and listen to the recording. I'm being summoned to a training mission, and am to report to the briefing room in ten minutes.

Guess they'll have to settle for me being in casual clothes, since I'm thirty minutes from there.

It's not like I'm required to be there, since I requested today to be a personal day. If I attend it, though, they'll probably give me another full personal day to make up for it, even though it's evening. It'll be a good way to get my mind off all the crap going on right now.

Probably calm me down.

I leave the restaurant, then begin to use my bursting steps to reach the briefing room. There, the two officers are clearly not happy with my attire. There are five other cadets in here.

"I was half an hour off campus," I take a seat. "When I got the voicemail ten minutes ago, so I didn't have time to change, unless I wanted to be late. My apologies."

"You should've responded to the call itself," the officer says, and I look him up and down. I don't recognize him, though it's not like I know all of the agents or mission controllers. There's a second one in here as well, though he's sitting off to the side, observing us. Two controllers means a big mission. "Not waited so long to respond."

"I was in a restaurant, and didn't know my phone rang," I tell him. "In addition, it's late in my off day, so I wasn't expecting a campus call, as they typically don't happen at this hour on a weekend. Now, either shut the hell up and start the briefing, or I'm walking out of here, because I really don't give a damn about the GSDF at this point, and all you're doing is pissing me off."

"You owe five hundred laps," he says, and I give him the finger. "Make that a thousand!"

"Bullshit, I do!" I snap. "I quit! I'm not in the mood for dealing with shit like this, and I had a personal day for today, so this whole mission requiring me is a violation!"

"It's kind of funny," the other officer finally speaks, standing up and looking at me. "The one Caleb counted on to keep the others from quitting is the one who quits."

"Yeah, well, Caleb's not here," I snap at him. "And I'm tired of this bullshit our team has to go through, especially since I don't even know what they're going through, since no one will fucking tell me! I'm done! As soon as I get through to them, I'm letting them know that I'm training on my own until they finish their training! This isn't bullshit I should have to deal with, and I'm not going to! I'm done!"

"This," the officer says. "Is exactly why I'm here," he looks at the other agent. "We told you specifically that Hansen might be absent entirely, or that he'd show up late, and likely not in uniform. We also told you to excuse it, as today is a personal day, which meant he specifically requested to be free from all duties and mission assignments today, and it was approved. He explained why he was late and apologized for it, and you reprimanded him for not doing something he didn't have to do."

"Just because his team has the son of a member of the Council of Dreams," the first officer says. "Doesn't mean we should treat them differently! If we call them for a mission, they respond – that's how it works! All cadets are on duty, ready for action, at any time. They're cadets, not agents!"

"Actually," the second officer says. "That rule doesn't apply when it comes to certain things. You can't punish a cadet who didn't respond to a call in two in the morning, since they were likely sleeping at the time. You also can't punish a cadet who specifically requested a personal day, then didn't respond to a mission call during it."

"I can punish a cadet who violates the rules," the first officer argues. "He was rude, belligerent, and even obscene. He will be-"

"Considering that he said he quit," the second officer says. "I don't think he will be. You can try and make him, but he's not a cadet anymore.

"You know," he sighs. "This is the third member of that team to leave the GSDF. One, the GSDF has been trying to convince to return, one got recruited into the GMDF and is their most powerful magician, and the third? Is one of our top-ten cadets. In fact, all three of them were in the top-ten. Ranked among the entirety of the GSDF, they'd be in the top thirty, with the other two members of their team there as well. In fact, two of them would be in the top five, with the first one being the most powerful, skilled agent we had.

"I can't imagine," the agent then says. "Why the Council of Dreams would have launched that massive investigation into us last year. I'm sure another one will pop up, what with us losing yet another member of the one team we don't want to piss off."

"Top thirty?" The officer scoffs. "This kid isn't more powerful than an A-Rank! He-"

"Can freeze your entire body with a thought," the agent says. "He has a perfect blend of offense and defense, and striking him will be very, very difficult without overwhelming power. Even Grant Reynolds is impressed by his performance. Their team is the most powerful one the Council of Dreams has on record.

"In addition," the agent continues. "You just told the person on personal day and the five others who have made personal day requests that haven't passed yet that it doesn't matter if they're on personal day or not, we can call them, and they have to respond. That's not how it works, and since each of the six have connections to the Council of Dreams in some way, shape, or form, I'm sure they will be quite unhappy with you. Thank you for coming here, you six. You're dismissed."

There's no mission?

Wait – what was going on?

"Brooks," the agent looks at me. "Please forgive what happened, reconsider your resignation. There will be no punishment for you. We in the Council's investigative force had heard rumors that stuff like this was happening, and wanted to check."

"I'll consider it," I tell him, then turn and leave the room, furious.

What the fuck is wrong with this place?

When I reach the disused meditation garden I've used a lot lately, to try and cool off, I sit inside the shelter and pull out my phone. Should I try calling Flame again? He likely won't answer my questions.

I try Kieran, but his phone still seems to not be using. Maybe Caleb's finally out of his no-service zone?

It actually rings.

"Heya, Brooks," Caleb says.

"Finally!" I say. "Caleb – something's going on with our team. No one will tell me what's going on with Flame or Jared, Flame's lost his arm, and Kieran's presumed dead right now. In addition-"

"Kieran's what?" Caleb asks. "Huh. That's weird. I can't contact him. That's really weird – I should be able to contact all of you, at any time, no matter where in the world you are, even if you're in a Ruin."

"So then he's dead?" I ask.

"No," Caleb says. "I have an aura trace on all of you, made imperceptible. Kieran's is still there, though I can't locate it. He's in this realm, but… unreachable. That's so weird. Maybe he's in a stasis of some sort? Bye."

He hangs up the phone, and my frustration grows. I call Flame, and he sends me to voicemail. Jared does the same thing, as does Owen.

At least I know Caleb's back in service area.

I should've asked him if he knew about what happened to Kilmar.

I call him again.

"Again?" He asks.

"Did you know that Kilmar vanished?" I ask. "In addition to the token Flame was supposed to use to contact him?"

"He didn't tell me that," he's been in contact with Flame? "I can still reach him. It was probably because of what I did."

"Blow up Alkran?"

"Did what?" He asks. "Oh, yeah, I did. Well, dropped a meteor on it. Wait – you know about that? How much damage did I do to it? It shouldn't have been noticeable. Imma go look it up when I finish here."

He hangs up again.

Something's different about him, but I can't quite place it.

----------------------------------------

(Jared)

The looks on their faces when Caleb answered his phone! I'm in stitches over that, and Flame giggling like the little kid he is!

How long will Caleb keep him like that before he undoes the spell? It's really amusing, and this Flame is a lot more annoying than the older Flame.

I mean, I know it's the same Flame, just with a kid body, but it's not like with Caleb, with different mindsets. It's the same Flame.

Flame jokingly commented that he wanted to be a kid again, and Caleb turned him into one. So he's been doing stuff he knows he can't get away with at our age.

Like right now, when he's peeing on one of the enemies' corpse, singing a song about bathtubs and rubber duckies.

As Caleb chats with Brooks, he completely ignores our opponents, dodging attacks. When the call ends, he glances at the foes fighting him, and they all freeze up, then he waves his hand, and they turn to stone.

Then his phone rings again, and he answers it again. Most of our enemies are down at this point.

Boy is Caleb capable.

"So," Flame appears beside me, back to his actual form. "Looks like Caleb's spell ran out of time. Ready to kick more ass?"

"When aren't we kicking ass?" I ask him, and he laughs like a madman, then zips around the room, burning opponents alive.

I'm seriously questioning Caleb's brother's decision to let Flame live and give him that knowledge he gave him. Flame doesn't need to harness the dragon within to fight anymore, and enjoys making flames that burn right through his foes.

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Caleb ends the call, then stretches, looking around with this eyes still filled with labyrinths. Either he's wrapped us in a Reality, and we aren't aware of it, or it's some weird effect of what happened to him.

"Is that the last of them?" He asks me.

"There are still thirty of them fighting!" Owen yells.

"There are?" Caleb looks around, and the thirty remaining foes are blown back, bound to the walls with magical binds. "Doesn't look like it to me."

"Can I kill them?" I ask.

"You're almost out of energy," Caleb tells me, then the remaining foes stop breathing, their bodies lifeless. "I still have plenty left."

This new Caleb is terrifying. He just killed them as if it meant nothing, and doesn't seem to care.

Though to be honest, I think he really did that so I wouldn't take my time and enjoy killing them, so there's still that part of him.

"Hey, Caleb!" Flame runs up to him. "So how comes your eyes are still all glowy, their labyrinths still there?"

"They are?" Caleb frowns, then a mirror appears in front of him, and he examines his reflection. "Huh. That's weird. I'm not using my power of Reality right now," the mirror vanishes. "Anyway, it's time to get going. These were the last of them, I think."

Six bases in one day. Caleb's powers of teleportation have grown even greater, another bind fading away. We don't even need to use the reflection of a pond anymore, though his eyes have been violet since the last run, probably because of the amount of magic he's been using.

Caleb scans the area, though I sense that he's not even seeing what's here. He's looking very, very far away.

"Whoa," he looks stunned. "I did that much damage to Alkran? So cool. There you are, Kilmar."

The massive Rift Wolf appears in front of Caleb, looking a little stunned.

I'm back in Tulma, the Rift Wolf sounds shocked. What happened, Caleb.

"I accidentally turned myself into the me from right after the Massacre," Caleb answers. "That apparently undid a lot of my stuff. I'm sending you onto one of my island."

The one with your other familiars?

"Yeah," Caleb answers, and the Rift Wolf vanishes, and he looks at us. Specifically, at Flame and me, not at Owen. "So."

"So?" I ask.

"So!" Flame exclaims.

"Um," Owen says. "Should I go? You look like you're about to have a serious talk with them."

"Stay," Caleb orders him. "I got from Owen's mind that the two of you think Teacher and the Sage are the same person, and that I'm his son. Care to explain why you think this?"

"It's complicated," I say. "But we know for sure you're the son of the Sage, unless Teacher was lying."

"As for him being the Sage?"

"Complicated."

"TEACHER!" Caleb yells, and Teacher appears in the warehouse.

"You're off," Teacher frowns. "Something's different about you."

"I'm a little bit confused," Caleb says. "And annoyed. And agitated. First: why did you lock Jared's mind against intrusion?"

"To prevent the kid you from freaking out," he answers. "You know what happened, right?"

"Are you bulling me?" Caleb asks, almost challengingly.

"No," Teacher says. "I'm not bullshitting you."

"Uh-huh," Caleb says. "You are aware that they think you're the Sage, right? And that that makes me your son, since you told them I'm the son of the Sage? It's so messed-up. As if you'd have children, even with magic sperm."

"Father wouldn't tell me how you know about that."

"Grandpa told me."

Teacher exhales heavily, trying not to scream like a little kid, probably, then a look of horror fills his face.

"Oh, shit," a look of realization fills his face. "Father told me that my mother was coming to this realm."

"She's pretty," Caleb tells him. "She's also waiting for you on your island. I was wondering who that was. Thought it was your mistress. She says to tell you 'hi', and that you better get your butt there now. Well, she used a different word, but still. You better get going, I think she's getting ready to eat all your food."

Teacher actually does let out a scream of frustration this time, then vanishes, and Caleb's two brothers look at him.

"Are you taller, Caleb?" Flame blurts out. "You look taller!"

"I'm about an inch and a half taller than I was when I dropped a meteor on Alkran!" Caleb looks proud of himself. "I finally hit a growth spurt!"

It might have to do with the slight changes to the current him, as a result of him being a kid in different circumstances.

"You're so proud of that," another Caleb appears. "I thought we weren't supposed to meet up?"

This one's wearing a black gi with violet trim, a belt woven of the universe tied around his waist. His feet are bare, and other than the gi, only a necklace is around his neck, this one with some sort of animal's tooth hanging from the leather cord, a single bead to either side of it, each bead woven of the universe, just like his belt.

His eyes are violet, with labyrinths glowing within. In fact, Nik's eyes are the only ones not with the labyrinth in them.

"Why are you hiding your labyrinths?" The newcomer then asks Nik.

"I am?" They appear in Nik's eyes. "I've been hanging around humans lately, and so didn't really realize I was still concealing them. If we aren't supposed to meet up, why did you just show up?"

"I sensed Father," the newcomer says.

"Hey, Tal," Caleb greets him.

"Still going by Caleb, Big Brother?" Tal asks, and Caleb pulls a face.

"You're all older than me," Caleb says. "Why do you all keep calling me that?"

"Who else can feel the power radiating off of them?" Owen quietly asks Flame and me.

"Just be glad you don't have a dragon woken up in you," I tell him. "Mine's roaring in fear and worship. These three are not beings to cross. The dragon in me only stirs for Teacher's presence."

Compared to how it reacts for one of these three, it doesn't even notice Teacher's presence. What, exactly, are Caleb's brothers, if they can command a reaction that their father cannot?

"That's the one that took my arm," Flame points at Nik, who then looks at him. "Hi!"

"Hello, Flame," Nik says. "I see you've recovered."

"Yup!" Flame nods. "I'm all better, now!"

"You're missing an arm," Tal says, then gives Nik a stern glare. "Did you grant him knowledge of the truth of magic?"

"Just at little bit," Nik confirms. "Not too much. Though it seems Caleb didn't actually need rescuing."

"Flame could still use it," Caleb shakes his head. "There's only so much I can actually explain, and with what's coming, Flame will need it."

"The prophecy?" Tal asks.

"Yeah," Caleb nods. "If only Jeremy were still alive, I'd see if he could give me another."

"Jeremy?" Flame asks. "The Superhuman from your orphanage with a silver eye and who has the Ability of Psychic Knowledge?"

All four of them look at Flame, whose dragon shrinks back in fear. Mine does, too, and Owen looks nervous.

"The only way you'd know that," Caleb says. "Would be if Kieran or I told you, or if you actually met him. You met him?"

"Uh… yeah," Flame looks nervous. "I met him back in the city, before you got kidnapped. Or was it while you were getting kidnapped? Kieran got all weird and went after him, and was even weirder after."

"Kieran's weird?" Caleb's question sounds more like a challenge.

"Nonononono," Flame holds his hands up and shakes his head. "I mean he was weird for him, not that he's actually weird. The way he was acting was weird, and not like Kieran at all."

Kieran's definitely weird. Then again, he's a member of our party. We're all weird, and none more so than our leader. With him, things aren't consistent, as if he's living in multiple timelines.

All this shit is messed up, and I'm not sure how to handle any of it.

----------------------------------------

(???)

My feet echo as I walk through the long, empty hall. The dark grey stone of this temple is smooth, the bricks seemingly a single, solid slab that never ends, even to my sharp eyes. The magic that fills this place makes it one of the few places in the entirety of existence that could contain a being of my power.

For now, I'm not focused on that. I'm focused on making it through the labyrinthine halls. Even with my mental map of the temple, the trip is a long one. Only walking can allow one to make it through, and the journey must be made in human form.

Unfortunately, the magic that forces human form makes it our 'natural' form, and that can't be changed. If a being walking these halls somehow isn't one with a human form, they're forced into the one they would have if they were to have a human form.

Thankfully, I can still weave clothes around my body. In human form, I feel naked when I'm naked. Weird, for a being of a species like a dragon, which has existed since long before any concept of clothing.

And yet… I do.

So here I am, walking through these halls, looking like a twelve year-old boy, just barely older than my father's appearance of ten. My mother at least looks older than me, at sixteen.

After our brief discussion, she mentioned that it was her father Caleb had been chatting with, not mine. No wonder Father was having so much fun when I assumed it was him.

Shaking that from my head, I continue my walk through the Temple.

The Temple of Reality, the single most powerful place in the universe that didn't have direct influence from the Dragons of Creation. And, as stated, one of the few that can trap a being of my power.

It never will trap me, since I know the way the magics of this place work, as well as every route through. Having helped create it somewhat lessens its ability to trap me. If absolutely need trapping, I'd prefer it to be the place I created specifically designed to trap me.

But that is neither here nor there, and thus, should be pushed out of mind again, lest I lose my way.

Three hours of travel after I entered this Temple, I arrive at my destination, a single, oaken door set into the stone walls, aged spectacularly, with cast iron hinges and a cast iron ring and lock.

Raising a hand, I knock on the door.

Though it appears ancient – and it is – nothing passes in or out of there, not even light.

The moment my hand strikes the wood the first time, the door flies open, and I leap back. Before I can do much more, I find myself tackled, slammed to the ground, something warm pressed against my body.

Looking at the one hugging me, nuzzling her head against me, I resist a sigh. Her long, green-brown hair, emerald eyes, and fair complexion hide the cruel beast beneath that human body. While we dragons are inherently beautiful, it is in our nature to rule and reign and look down on all others.

Caleb's aversion to that is most unique, and stems from his human side being dominant due to whatever binds have hold over him, binds I cannot even sense. Had his draconic side held more influence over his life from when he was younger, the Massacre would not have changed him so much from the kid who did look down on others, in his own way.

"-!" She exclaims, my true name bubbling out of her in a bright, cheerful garble that no mortal ears could possibly understand, much less my currently-human ones. She stops nuzzling my face to look me in the eyes. "It's been forever since you last visited me!"

"Hello, Scribe," I greet her. "Mind getting off me?"

"Sure!" She bounces backwards, standing on her feet. I stand up and straighten my tunic, brushing it off. "There's not actually dust on it, you know!"

"I know," I tell her. "Shall we?"

"Come on in!" She bounces back into the room, and I follow her in, the door closing behind us.

Unlike the plain, endless halls of the rest of the temple, this room contains all sorts of items. Shelves stacked with books, seemingly going on forever. A library of infinite proportions, making even the Library of the Ancients seem empty and hollow in comparison.

And considering how much effort I put into the spatial and other magics in that, that's saying something about the size and wealth of this place.

My feet sinks into the crimson carpet below, and were I not wearing boots, my toes would probably enjoy the sensation.

Tables are scattered here and there with various writing instruments atop them. Paper, parchments, notebooks, pens, pencils, quills, charcoal, bark, stone, hammer and chisel, and so much more. From the ages and realms, this place has it all. Not that she needs any of it.

The Scribe is one of the few beings that can rival me in power, though our powers work in two entirely different ways. I shape reality, while she adjusts the history of it.

She isn't a prisoner here, but rather, the powerful protections on this place ensure that only those worthy make it to this chamber.

The Library of the Past.

Everything that has ever happened in the past is recorded here, on its own. New books form and write themselves to ensure that memory will always persist. Our powers, combined, forged this place.

It is the sole place in the universe where history can be changed, rewritten to be shaped to how is needed or desired.

The Scribe here exists so that no one can. Only her fathers could do such a thing. Baelsor, the Dragon Who Created Time, and Israna, the Dragon Who Created Memories.

No magic sperm made her, though. They very intentionally tried to have a daughter, to see what would happen. She was born of pure magic forged between the two, and is as mortal as I am.

That is to say, I am mortal, despite how not I often seem. Very, very few things possess the ability to harm me.

Stop. Refocus.

Only the Scribe possesses the power to resist the straying of thoughts here. Her, and the Dragons of Creations, but if they need something changed, they usually go to her fathers.

"Your father was here the other day," she grabs my hand, dragging me through the aisles of shelves.

"He was?"

"Yeah!" She nods. "I woke up the other day to find him sitting by my bed, staring at me very intently. It was very creepy. He's the only one of them who doesn't visit me. That's only my third time ever seeing him."

And for beings as old as we, that's unusual. The other Dragons of Creation visit at least once every three or four centuries that pass in True Time, to make sure she's still around and hasn't come across something that could actually hurt her.

Considering how few those things are, that would be impressive. Especially since the last thing that tried to hurt her that actually had the power to found itself as one of the decorations we just passed up.

She still has it.

"What did he want?" I ask.

Father hasn't visited her here before.

"To know if I had a book of bedtime stories," she answers. "A very specific one. I wrote out a new copy of it and gave it to him."

She has memorized almost every tome in this Library, and only the newer ones have to be read. Considering her ability to halt time, though, I think she only actually starts looking through them once a year. She can take as much time as she wants, and she enjoys doing it.

She also enjoys rewriting events, or writing her own version of what's actually happening, reshaping how things go. Never anything dangerous or harmful, just small things. A natural prankster, like my father and son.

Honestly, if any of those three were to be evil, it would not bode well for anyone.

"What book?" I ask.

"You wouldn't have heard of it," she answers. "It's a book of tales turtles tell each other."

Pretty sure Father already knows all of those, which means he had an ulterior motive for being here. Something else on his mind.

"Anything else?"

"Just that!" She lets go of my wrist as we reach an area walled-off by shelves, filled with rugs, blankets, and beanbag chairs. "Here we are!"

Against one wall stands a heavy, wooden desk cluttered with scrolls, parchments, quills, and inkwells, a couple stacks of books piled up on it.

"He really wanted something he already had memorized?"

"Said he wanted to give it to someone as a gift."

Sure, he did. If he really did, though, it would explain why he visited the Scribe.

"You know, it's been ages since you visited," she turns and looks at me as we enter her study corner. "Mind telling me what this is about?"

"Tulma," I answer. "I need you to rewrite some stuff."

"I can't undo the claiming of it as a Reality," she says.

"You knew about that?"

"Our silly parents and uncles completely forgot that they could just check with me," she snorts. "It wasn't until after they realized what happened that I got a visit from Hisron to ask me everything I knew about it."

One of the magics that constitute this place prevents communication in or out of here, so unless someone pays her a visit, her vast wealth of knowledge remains unknown to others. Even her father cannot access it, despite being what he is.

When she's out of here, however, he draws on her much the same way Father apparently draws on Caleb.

"I thought you were how they figured it out," I say. "But even if you hadn't been, I knew that they would have attempted to have it fixed by you. Do you know what happened?"

"It's outside of my Sight."

There isn't much that rests outside of her viewing, and that explains why it can't be changed. Unless she at least knows enough about it, she cannot do anything about it.

"Do you know how many children I have?"

"You have a son named Lusvar Nomari," she answers.

"Any others?"

"Hm," she thinks long and hard. "Not sensing any others."

"I have at least two more," I say, and she frowns, her eyes focusing intently on whatever it is she looks into, when she looks for information.

Almost an hour passes before she returns her gaze to me.

"I can sense them," she says. "But I have to focus on Lusvar for it. Or rather… I'm not actually sensing them, but their interactions with Lusvar himself. There are six of them that I can detect. At least, I think there are six."

…

"Did I break you?" She waves a hand in front of my face. "How did you not know about them?"

"How was Caleb born?"

"Caleb?" She frowns for a moment. "Oh! Lusvar! He was born-ah. Interesting that you were around your son for so long before learning he was your son."

"Can you tell me how he got his ring?" I ask.

"What ring?" She asks, and I stare at her. She frowns for several long minutes. "Looking into those around him, and Lusvar himself, I can get a feel for it, but not sense it, just like your sons and the cause of the shift for Tulm."

"Can you see what you can dredge up about them?"

She nods, sitting down on a beanbag. I sit down as well, as this could take awhile.

The Scribe stares off into space, frowning, as she searches whatever she looks into for knowledge, and several hours later, she sighs, shaking her head.

"Very little," she tells me. "Lusvar's ring doesn't appear to have a stable reality. Your son – and his possessions – don't seem to exist in a single timeline."

"There is only one timeline," I say. "Your father ensured that. If something in the past is changed, it changes everything that happened after, not creates a new timeline."

"I know," she says. "Lusvar isn't a normal boy, -, he-"

"Teacher," I say.

"Yes?"

"No," I say. "That's what Caleb and his team call me. It's easier than you using a word that mortal ears can't understand."

"Oh, right," she smiles. "I forgot that outsiders are made mortal, here. You know that you could ignore that, right?"

"Best to follow customs," I shrug. "So about him?"

"He isn't a normal boy," she says. "There are six seals binding his draconic magic, each one formed naturally by the aether that flows through all things. It binds him, preventing him from having access to his full power. Due to his natural link to the aether, it's as if he lives in multiple realities and timelines at the same time. That ring likely comes from one of the others. All I can tell is that he's had it since he was very little, and yet, that he was given it."

"By who?" I ask. "Can you see that?"

"By you," she answers. "In one instance, he doesn't seem to have it until he's ten, when you gave it to him as a gift. And yet he already had the ring. Your son is very strange, Teacher. His entire team is, in fact. Flame shouldn't have access to his true draconic nature – and the sealing of his mind – for almost double the draconic makeup, yet he does. Jared is an anomaly in and of himself. Brooks… he's probably the most normal one on that team, and yet he isn't. And then, of course, there's Caleb, as previously stated."

"And Kieran?"

"He's dead."

So he is dead, then.

"Of course," she snorts. "You and I both know how fleeting death can be. Sometimes, what's dead isn't actually dead."

Of course she has to go and smack that illusion away. Sometimes, something can appear to her as dead that isn't really. It takes an extreme situation for that to happen, though. Kieran, as a human, even if one descended of dragons, shouldn't be able to invoke that situation, so it's safe to assume that he really is out.

"Do you know what happened to his body?"

"Turned to shadows," she answers. "Faded into them, at the moment of his death.

Aaaaaaaaaaaand that illusion gets smacked away again. Only dragons revert to their natural element or makeup upon death. Even Caleb wouldn't do what Kieran did.

And dragons can most certainly invoke that situation.

So he could be alive.

"What can you see regarding him?"

"That he's most certainly dead," she answers. "I looked into that, and he seems to be gone completely, not a trace of his soul remaining. The shadows around where he died are much stronger for it, but not powerful enough to cast somewhere into eternal darkness."

Like the region Caleb lived in. The handful of places in the world like that had a dragon of shadows die there. A full-fledged dragon of shadows. Their souls weren't shattered, but instead, when they passed, their powers merged into the surrounding areas.

Now that I can access this place, it might not be a bad idea to ask her to fix that, but at the same time, it could adversely affect things in Tulma. There are more than a few things that actually require that endless night, and some societies thrive in it.

Not necessarily good ones, but there are good ones that thrive from it.

"So," she says. "What were you wanting me to adjust in Tulma?"

"My son and his team," I answer. "I want it rewritten, so that they haven't realized I'm the one called the Sage. If possible, I need what happened to Flame undone, Kieran brought back, and the team not under constant danger."

"I can do the first," she says. "Flame and Kieran are beyond my power, and the latter… I could adjust it some, but not much. Know this: even the smallest of changes to Caleb will affect the world."

"I get that," I say. "But things are spiraling out of control, and it needs to be fixed. He's done major impacts, and-"

"Alkran, right?" She asks. "This will undo what he did there. But I wasn't referring to just the major things he's done himself. Caleb is a pebble that was thrown into the pond of reality."

The ripples he creates only become bigger and bigger. He's done things that he hasn't realized have affected things majorly. Just what has he done?

"What did he do?" I ask.

"I can't see all of it," she shrugs. "But he's done quite enough. I'll get to work on what I can. Know that this might revert some of the releases on his binds, as well as weaken his team a fair bit."

"That's fine," I say. "They don't need to have this much power at their age. The responsibility and headache that's been put on them as a result isn't good for them. You're absolutely sure you can't undo Flame's release?"

"Positive," she sits down at the desk. "The one known as Nikvar Nomari is able to interfere with that. As he's the one who granted Flame the knowledge, I cannot undo it. Also, why was Caleb a part of the GSDF?"

"Because he's a Superhuman, and it's the safest place for him to be?"

"No, he's not," she looks at me. "Caleb is most certainly not a Superhuman. He's roughly sixty-three percent dragon, you really think his power would be bound up like that? He can create the same Realities over and over without practice, Teacher. Caleb is a full-on magician, just like Flame. You didn't know this?"

"No, I didn't," I growl. "That boy is far more headache than he should be. Can you adjust it so he's a Superhuman?"

"I can't," she shakes her head. "He's got too much dragon in him for him to not be."

She picks up a quill and begins writing, golden ink forming on the parchment as she does, the ancient words of creation glowing as she rewrites existence and history and memories.

"Teacher," she looks at me. "The Stone is missing."

"The Stone?"

"The Stone of Noruka."

My blood runs cold the moment she says that. Nothing is missing to her. She'd simply tell me where it was, if it's not where it's supposed to be. A group of magicians that, combined, could overpower me created several artifacts, the Powers of Noruka. Then, they sealed them away in various vaults throughout the world, vaults that even I couldn't dream of breaching.

"Define 'missing'."

"It exists, yet it doesn't," she answers. "If I rewrote things, the undoing of what Lusvar did to Alkran would make a new one appear, causing two to exist simultaneously – the one in the vault, and the one… wherever it is."

"Could father have taken it?"

"It's the only one missing," she says.

"Could Caleb's meteor have destroyed it?"

"I'd say that was likely," she says. "Except that it still exists. I also cannot see what Lusvar did, while he was in Alkran, before he destroyed it with that spell."

She won't flat-out say it, but she's saying that Caleb likely has it in his ring. But he shouldn't have the power to enter that vault, even if he's greater than me.

"Alright," I say. "We can deal with that, if it comes to be an issue."

She nods, then resumes writing.

The Artifact's disappearance is more than a bit worrisome, though, considering the power it holds. A mortal, wielding it, could kill me. A mortal far, far less powerful than me, too. Since she didn't comment on the others, they're likely all still sealed up.

When she finally finishes the rewrite, several True Days have passed. She sighs, looking at me, exhaustion in her eyes.

"That was the single most difficult adjustment ever," she says. "Lusvar and his brothers interfere with things too much. Every time I thought things were going easy, it turned out that one of his brothers was involved, and I had to do a bunch of workarounds."

"How much could you do?"

"I got it done," she answers. "Though I couldn't undo Flame's power or Kieran's death. The team isn't in constant danger anymore, though they're still absurdly powerful for their ages. I had to raise the level of power for several others, though, as the counter to that.

"Also," she continues. "What happened to Lusvar, and turning himself into a Reality, still happened, however, some of the events are slightly different. Most of it remained the same, so they'll still know all of that. However, they won't draw the conclusion that you're the Sage. They do know Lusvar's the son of the Sage, and that his father was a dragon, and thus, the Sage was a dragon, and they'll know that you're a dragon, but not draw the conclusion they held previously.

"Don't forget," she says. "Those with Perception as a Gift will be able to somewhat perceive their original selves, if they were affected, and they were affected is the safe thing to assume. Anyone who's powerful enough will get more than a sense of dezaru, though – they might get actual glimpses. Lusvar himself especially."

Caleb is more and more troublesome, the more I learn about him. When did he gain the power of perception?

Dezaru, or deja-vu, I can deal with, even if we still can't pin down the source of it, as it's not magic in any form we know. Caleb having Perception, on the other hand, is not.

"Can you kill me?" I ask, and she laughs.

"Also," she says. "Lusvar's mother's looking for him. She didn't know he was in Alkran before, and still doesn't. She just wants to see if she can find the baby she had. She couldn't afford to take care of one, back when she got pregnant with him, and since she was a virgin back then, it was kind of surprising. She had to move to get away from the slut stigma she got hit with – unfairly, too. No one believed she hadn't had sex.

"If it were the old days," the Scribe waves her quill at me. "No one would have batted an eye. Magic sperm wasn't a new concept back then. Anyway, that remained the same in this timeline, but with the adjustments, she might actually meet Lusvar. Before, the odds were low, but she's in the same city as him, now."

"She lives there?"

"It's where the trail led her, in the new writing," she shakes her head. "Because of the way the adoption was handled, and the fact that Lusvar's a minor, she's not actually allowed access to the files unless his legal guardian grants permission."

"Except that legally-"

"He's dead," she says. "And yet, he's not. He doesn't have a legal guardian, in technicality. At least, in the old writing. In the new, his papers were given to Jennifer, when he was left there."

"Did you see by who?"

"Invisible to my Sight, just like Lusvar's brothers," she responds. "However, I can confirm that he's the same one who brought Lusvar to safety after both events."

"So it's a he?"

"According to Jared's memories," she nods. "Also, I took the liberty of, ah, removing Lusvar's awareness of magic sperm."

"Thank you so much," my face is burning like hell right now. "Though please don't bring that up again."

"Sure," she smirks.

Actually, hell isn't burning right now…

"Did you undo what he did to hell?"

She snorts.

"I don't think anyone aside from the Dragons could do that."

"Just how solid is his power?"

"He froze the realm," she says. "It's got to be pretty solid for that. That ice is infused with his power. How the hell did your son manage to contract a unicorn, a phoenix, and a Rift Wolf as familiars? What's next – a dragon?"

"Please don't even joke about that," I say. "The more people think or talk about it, the more likely Caleb's going to actually do that."