By Their True Names

The artifact hums and warms in my presence.

I step close, eager but hesitant, and feel an electric charge in the air.

It’s intoxicating - staring at this artifact - a quartz pyramid covered in runes I have never seen before.

I know I shouldn’t touch it, but I can’t help myself. Energy envelops my hand in a welcoming embrace. A soothing river of primal energy flows up my arm, coursing through my body and beckoning me to complete the circuit.

Compelled by the mystery, I oblige.

Well met, daughter of the Earth.

The voice inside my head is motherly, full of grace, and it comforts me in a way I hadn’t felt since I was a child.

Greetings, child of the morn.

This voice carries the stern weight of a father’s love.

“Who are you?” I ask in such a state of wonder that I’m amazed I am even able to speak.

We have had many names throughout history, the man says. You might know me as Father Time.

Father Time? Can't be.

And I am Mother Earth.

My chest heaves with breaths born of fire, and my quaking knees threaten to buckle.

“I’m… I’m Victoria.”

Victoria, Father Time says, we need your help.

“My help? What could I…” My heart pounds - out of control. “Are you… gods?

We are nature. We are balance. We are one, Mother Earth replies.

Tell me, child, is Hadrian still alive?

His question unnerves me for reasons I cannot fathom. “Hadrian? Oh, God no. He’s been dead for almost two thousand years.”

Then his plan failed.

I know I’m sane, well, maybe I’m just pretty sure. Then again, maybe not. “If I may ask, what was Hadrian’s plan?”

Immortality, Mother Earth answers. With the aid of one not of this world, we were lured here and trapped. And now the world is out of balance.

“Tell me about it. Things are just wrong. All over the place.”

We know much of what transpires, but are unable to effect change, Father Time adds. In the hands of man, this artifact brings nothing but ruin.

My once stable mind warps, nearly breaks as memories not of my own making flood my brain.

***

I’m Hitler --

-- staring at the artifact with a predatory gleam in my eyes. My Generals surround the war table, bickering among themselves when I order the first phase of the Blitzkrieg.

Poland falls first. Then Norway, Belgium, the Netherlands, and France. I leave nothing but ash and misery in my wake.

*

I’m Hadrian --

-- in the Dacian Wars, laying waste to the enemies of Rome and paving the way to become Emperor through battle after bloody battle.

After ridding myself of the four consulars, I am with Minerva, and she holds the artifact. There are two others in the room, but I refuse to look at them. Minerva touches the runes in a specific pattern, and it starts to vibrate.

The two other figures vaporize, and their essence is sucked into the artifact. I trace my fingers along the runes, setting the code to lock them away for all time.

***

My mind snaps clear with a searing bolt of pain.

It was never meant to cause harm., Father Time says. Mankind cannot be trusted to wield such power.

Mother Earth adds, We will restore the balance, and we will heal. But to do that, we need your help.

My brain falters, processing the enormity of the situation as what to me is the fabric of the universe being torn asunder before my very eyes.

I trace my fingers along the runes in the same pattern Hadrian’s vision showed me. The artifact glows - intensifies - too bright - then an energy pulse knocks me on my ass.

I blink til my vision clears, and now, against all logic, I see--

Father Time.

Mother Earth.

Holy shit.

“Well done, Victoria. And thank you,” Mother Earth says.

Father Time fiddles with the artifact, and a second pulse shakes my entire body to its core. The world around me vibrates in a blur, and for a moment, I lose my sense of self.

A third pulse hits, and the entire structure quakes as I am overcome with nausea . I curl up in the fetal position, praying for it to end.

“Come to the Pantheon. We will talk more then,” Father Time says.

I crack my eyes open and watch him trace a different pattern on the artifact, and without warning, they vanish.

I rest a long while, sufficiently freaked out, yet overjoyed at having an experience that defies explanation.

But something’s wrong.

The air smells clean and fresh. And the cracks in the walls are gone. And…lights? Where the heck did they come from? Maybe I am going mad.

When I step out of the tomb, I freeze. No longer is Hadrian’s Villa in ruins. Instead, it’s immaculate, as if renovated to perfection. Or had never fallen into such a state to begin with.

And a man is waiting for me.

“This way, please,” he says.

#

As the man drives me into Rome, I can only gawk at a city that shouldn’t exist. The Colosseum towers over me, tall and proud, and not a single stone out of place. The Basilicas, Churches — all of it.

Sheer magnificence.

He drops me off near the Pantheon.

Every fiber of my being rebels against my eyes, refusing to believe what is in front of me. It’s all too clean, too warm, and the people wearing clothes that look like a modern take on Ancient Rome clothing design...

Are they speaking Latin?

I reach the Pantheon and can't help but feel things just got even weirder. This can’t be. I’m staring at two marble statues that mark the entrance to the temple. Two statues that look just like Father Time and Mother Earth.

I approach with disturbed reverence, marveling at the exquisite detail. My fingers trace along Mother Earth’s feet, and a cool sensation washes over me. A blessing, perhaps?

I glance down at the plaque, then quickly check the other as my sanity gets questioned, yet again.

Jupiter.

Juno.

Holy shit!

The intoxicating, irresistible pull toward the unknown that seduced me into archeology in the first place swells to the breaking point, despite the terror threatening to drown me.

Jupiter’s voice invades my thoughts. Come, child.

We welcome thee, Victoria, daughter of the Earth, Juno adds.

They know my name. The gods know my name.

And I know theirs as well.

(Can also be found at https://www.royalroad.com/profile/780926/fictions)