Timefall

The master had promised me that there were two universes left to search, just two. One of trial and error and the other of self-indulgence. The master, my master, was also never clear about their intentions, she, he, it … always spoke in riddles and rhymes that could be but never was.

And much to my displeasure, it was sort of her forte to inflict confusion onto my already confused mind.

But I have gotten used to the strange speak, the same way I have gotten better at the task at hand - my purpose I mean. I hunt down ancient relics and destroy them, wiping their existence from the timelines they have exploited. And, if you were wondering I am not a mere archaeologist, I do this because I am the champion of Aevum Sophia, keeper of time and wisdom itself

A mouthful I know.

And as the champion of Aevum Sophia, I held in my hands a navigator - crafted into the shape of a mechanical spherical object that probably was regarded as a holy object to the people pointing their swords at me.

“Do anything and you’re dead, we’ve had enough of your tricks Theta, now put down the map and step away from it,” One of them said, it was the one stood to the left of me, his sword the closest to my back. Funny how that worked, you see, an hour ago or so this weak warrior and I had joked about putting on tunics backwards in hope that no one would notice. It all started because I wore one backwards myself, and then he did it the next day to make me feel better about my mistake.

For now, I shoved such trivial memories out of my head and spun around to look at the royal guard called Solomon. Good old Sol. He could not meet my eye and I had never seen him sweat so much underneath his helmet. “It’s more of a compass than a map,” I half muttered.

“What?” He squeaked suddenly.

Then he made that stupid expression, the one that was puzzled and pure and almost innocent. It was not a soldier’s ideal look in battle, but it made me want to share one last thing with him whilst he was still sharing those open eyes with me.

“It’s just that … when you know of the very thing the compass can point you towards it starts spinning faster,” I demonstrated, presenting the spherical compass in action. As it was a transparent object, its mechanical inwards were visible to us all. And when it started spinning, I noticed that the guards had begun to believe me.

Their weapons slowly lowered.

The other armed fellows failed to hide their amazement alongside Solomon’s, I could see the awe pooling on their faces, revealing just how primitive this race truly was.

Throw them something shiny and they think it is of the Gods. I've seen this a thousand times before.

“Come on Solomon, put down the sword, remember all those times I had your back when Hejero tried to demote you off the squad,” I nudged my head to the one stood in the middle, Hejero, the leader of this little mutiny on me. Yet, strangely she was the one with the weakest grip on her handle. She was only ever good at impressing others, her swordsmanship being more of a circus act rather than a battlefield offence in my humblest of opinions.

“But … Why don’t we remember you? You just sort of …” Soloman rambled on, his troubled voice echoing in the castle treasury.

It took me an embarrassing long month to locate the very room, having walked through it a dozen of times to the point where I could now count the paintings that hung on the walls with my eyes closed.

“… Then you just appeared, and we welcomed you with open arms like fools!”

In a soft voice, I said, “No, not fools. I was skilled, talented, even you said so yourself. I saved your life on the day we met when none of your comrades would, your trust fell into my palm all too easily, that’s all,” I handled the compass with both hands, my five rings clinking against the gold markings on the outer shell of the structure.

“Nothing to be ashamed about,” I added, though that only aggravated Solomon more, to the point of him daring to raise his blade against my face. I took a step back, naturally, as these people no longer trusted me for good reason.

Behind me was a window, a tall one, its height enough to fit me through it. The castle sat on a very high cliff over the ocean in some exotic land I did not bother researching properly.

All I ever needed to know about these timelines were that there was a Queen, or King, who had an army skilled enough to bring her valuable treasures from across the lands. That was usually enough to point a big red arrow on the map for me. Though what I did gather in my time living here was that these people lived in a hot climate, which equalled to sharks and other large swimmers in the water far below. My skin crawled, the thought of unknown waters made me shiver every time.

“Theta, just drop the map or … or compass and we can forget this happened. I don’t want to do this,” Yet his blade still threatened my life.

“But you will do it, loyalty to the Queen is all you have. Otherwise, you’re nothing, it’s what Hejero says and she’s right about you, you’d kill me if you have to, anything to remain in the ranks and all that business,”

“I hate how … how those words come so easily from your mouth, like you think you know it all, what do you know about loyalty!” He shouted.

Loyalty. I knew of its fickleness and its ultimate advisory known as emotions that tethered the human conscious between what was right and wrong like a metronome ticker.

Then I was laughing loud enough to piss Solomon off until he yelled at me to stop, and when I did not, he drove his sword at me till I was out the window. It cracked upon impact on my armoured shoulder, shattering enough to let me through.

Incidentally, a stay shard cut my face on the way out. I'm pretty certain Solomon saw that.

Better the shard than Solomon’s blade I'd say.

If someone had been looking at my escape from a different angle, it would have looked less ridiculous as I fell headfirst into the watery depths; nonetheless, it was still an escape.

At least Solomon saved me the trouble of braving myself to leap spectacularly to my death.

Free falling down to the ocean, I held the compass against my plated chest. I could see Solomon’s face from afar, he was peeking through the window, looking at what he believed he had caused.

He was staring at me like I was already a ghost the further I fell. I knew Solomon would never forget this day, and he should not, not many got to experience the death of a De Novo, not even me.

It happened when I hit the water, whatever it was that happened. The Process is what I have been calling it in my head for the past millennia. Sometimes it feels like I am disintegrating, scattering into atoms. Not that … that made any sense. But the master once told me that the death of a De Novo was powerful enough to destroy the relics I hunted when in close proximity, except I had never tried it before and could only hope my task was complete for now.

Nine thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine down, one more to go.