Part IV: Change is the Only Constant
Midwinter BY 436
Reality swam before Kestal’s eyes, garish colors swirled wildly, light and dark came and went with reckless abandon. She felt disconnected from her body, as if she’d been without sleep for days – which had not been entirely without precedent during her life.
Time travel, she managed to form coherent thoughts,
But I’d only just arrived…
As the colors slowed into discernible shapes, the world seemed to reform around her. A forest hung before her like a painting, flat and without depth. With a faint
‘pop’ her perception moved through an imperceptible boundary, sending subtle ripples out from her body.
Kestal stood next to a towering yew tree laden with snow, a pace away Mystra seemed to float inches above the ground giving off a soft warming radiance. Some distance in front of them stood two large marble buildings, while a third grey stone structure lay farther to the right - none of which looked familiar to Kestal. “Where?” she asked simply.
Mystra turned toward her, smiling sweetly. “A place destroyed by treachery and betrayal in thy time.” She made an expansive gesture toward the buildings. “Welcome to Nameless Rune, child, a hamlet dedicated to preserving knowledge and culture.”
Kestal began to step around the tree toward the buildings, but was stopped by Mystra’s hand on her shoulder. “Nay, child, events are about to transpire. We may only watch to ensure a new course is charted. Observe…”
----
A crackle of cerulean energy heralded the moongate's arrival seconds before it arose from beneath the snow that blanketed the forest floor. An indistinct form emerged from the swirling vortex, wavering briefly before settling on a man with a pale complexion dressed in a pure-white robe and a vivid blue kasa. He stopped a pace away from the gate, turned, and extended a long-fingered hand toward the portal.
Moments later, a crimson-haired woman with amethyst skin clad in rags half-stumbled out of the gate, barely managing to clasp the man's hand before nearly pitching forward into the snow. A hollow laugh escaped her cracked lips. Steadying herself, she rewrapped a thick white cloak around her shivering body.
"Welcome home, my dear," the man said warmly. "Good as new. Better, in fact, if I know my daughter..." He gestured towards the three-story marble structure which rose in front of them.
From their sunken sockets, red-rimmed eyes took in the sight of the building as mixture of pain and relief washed over her features.
Home...
----
“Who are they?” Kestal inquired. The man didn’t look familiar at all, but the woman she’d seen somewhere before.
Mystra sighed, as if not wanting to answer the question. “The man is Chancellor DaKaren,” she started hesitantly. “Thy father…”
Kestal stared dumbfounded at the goddess before turning back to the two near the building. “Father,” she spoke the word reverently, feeling Mystra’s grip on her shoulder tighten. “And the other?”
Mystra’s smile vanished, her jaw set as a stern look settled on her features. “She… She is someone freed from the darkness that would consume this world, Kestal. She is Martyna Z’muir…”
Kestal’s blood froze, the color drained from her face as the name sank in. Without conscious thought, she withdrew an obsidian dagger from a hidden sheath on her left inner thigh. The world formed a tunnel as all her senses focused on the elvin woman, the woman she must kill.
“Nay, child, I forbid it.” Mystra’s grip became vice-like.
Kestal’s face turned toward the goddess, her features twisted with grief and rage. “That is Nosfentor!” she hissed angrily. “I will end her before her reign of terror can begin! My mother sent me back to stop the war, that woman must die!”
The goddess shook her head slowly, not releasing her grip on the angry girl. “Nay, child. Thy mother sent thee back to aid in her rescue, not to murder her. We came here to watch the change, and to ensure your existence.” Nodding back to the buildings, her smile returned.
----
"MARTYNA!" shouted an exuberant voice from the second floor terrace of the marble building next door. A blond man dressed in a red robe leapt from the building’s edge with practiced ease, somehow managing to descend slowly to the ground a few feet from the newly arrived pair. He rushed toward the woman and lifted her into the air, a feat of strength which belied his tall, yet gaunt frame.
Smiling, he wrapped her into an embrace. "By the Virtues, Chancellor, thank you for rescuing her! I scarcely believed Dot’s words were true.."
"Save your thanks for the B.A.F., my friend,” the albino man said in a friendly voice as the other man continued to envelop Martyna in the bear hug. A strangled squeak of fright emanated from the folds of the white cloak.
"Killian, calm, she has been through quite the ordeal..." alarm evident in Chancellor Dakaren’s voice. He helped to extricate the exhausted librarian from her assistant’s embrace.
Eyes streaming with tears of joy, Martyna took a step back from Killian and put up a quivering hand to allay the concerned looks of her friends. “I… I’m fine,” she managed to stammer, wiping her eyes with the scrap of cloth which was once her left shirt sleeve. “I’m just so happy to be home and to see you all.”
Still looking concerned, Killian asked, “Did I hurt you?”
“Oh!” the librarian exclaimed. “No, it was not I that squeaked, but a friend who was instrumental in alerting my rescuers to my escape…” Martyna reached into a pocket hidden within the folds of the borrowed cloak she wore and removed a squirming, furry mass.
A tail whipped in a circle as the creature struggled to find balance in Martyna’s gentle grasp before it was snuggled in a fold of the cloak. Tiny beady black eyes blinked at the man in red, as a whiskered nose twitched franticly. “Meet Lotha-abbil, she shall be staying with me in the Library.”
A woman with vibrant pink hair finished descending the flight of stairs from the terrace of the Nameless Rune Library and strode to the odd quartet. “Welcome back Martyna,” she said with a smile, reaching out to hand the rat a morsel of bread. “I think this calls for a party…”
----
Kestal found herself strangely transfixed by the pink-haired woman, nearly failing to notice that the bark of the great yew beside her had begun to waver faintly. An image of a bearded man appeared at the heart of the ripples, seeming to grow larger as if moving toward her through a tunnel. A faint
‘pop’ heralded his arrival as the temporal disturbance faded behind him.
The man’s flowing white beard came down to his waist, almost matching his hooded robe in color. He bowed gracefully. “M’Ladies.”
“Blessed be, Watcher, ‘tis agreeable to see thee,” Mystra said, nodding her head respectfully.
The Watcher stepped toward the women, eying Kestal curiously. “I sensed change in the course, Sister, one that alters everything. Has father been meddling?”
A mirthful laugh escaped Mystra’s lips, her smile broadened. “Nay, Brother, he hath not been to this world since the failure in Moonglow. I believe he fears the Shadowlord’s influence, or that of their master, might trap him in the Void once more.” She pointed a graceful hand at the scene playing out by the buildings. “There is the change, Nosfentor’s vessel uncorrupted.”
“Indeed,” Watcher said, nodding. “A veritable family reunion, if only Grandmother were there…”
“She should be along shortly, Brother. Certain things cannot be changed.”
The Watcher looked at the ground a moment, then his eyes rose to Kestal. “I’m afraid what my Grandfather did may be beyond our ken, something
fundamental has changed. I don’t believe Grandmother will be coming…”
“Wait,” Kestal said, confused. “You have family there?” she pointed at the libraries.
Mystra turned back to her, a slight gleam under her eyes. “Aye, child, we do. It is… complicated.” She turned back to the scene before them.
----
“I have a supply of Moonglow’s finest cider, perhaps a delicious marinated veal or venison?” Dot asked, relishing the thought of exquisite food.
“That sounds delicious, Dot. At this point, any well-prepared food would get my attention!” Martyna, tried not to let her stomach growl too loudly at the thought. “Perhaps a warm bath beforehand and some clean clothes…”
“You should go inside where it is warmer, Martyna. Dot can show you the repairs to the Library, I shall see if any of the B.A.F. are still feeling festive,” said DaKaren.
Killian began to lead Martyna towards the staircase up to her office and apartment. “This way m’lady, watch your step!” the red-robbed assistant cautioned good-naturedly.
“Just wait till you see the new vault, Martyna, the damned Triad would have to be crazy to try again,” Dot said proudly of the Library’s reconstruction as she followed up the stairs.
Martyna let them lead her partway up the stairs, “Wait,” she exclaimed, “I almost forgot!” Turning back down the stairs she rushed back to DaKaren. “I have something for you!” Reaching her fingers between her bosom, which elicited curious looks from her friends, and withdrew a golden disk.
“I believe this was intended for you, DaKaren.” She pressed the disk into his palm. “The man armored who sent Justicar Call through a silver moongate gave it to me.” She smiled wryly before turning to head back up the stairs and disappearing into the Library.
DaKaren watched her go with a raised eyebrow, before looking at the item. The disk itself was about seven and a half centimeters across and was emblazoned with a very familiar symbol. A raised silver ankh lay at the center of a stylized star. “Fascinating.”
The Chancellor stood there for several minutes as if waiting for someone. He glanced around in confusion for a moment before returning his attention to the disk. Gently twisting the edges of the disk in opposite directions caused a golden beam to emanate from the ankh and flash over his body.
“Identity confirmed. Initiating message,” said a disembodied female voice.
Another flash of golden light flew from the disk to a point about two meters in front of him where it quickly resolved into a life-sized image of the Chancellor. His long white hair had been tied back into a ponytail and he wore an iridescent black uniform of obvious military design. A metallic ankh and star medallion was placed high on his sternum, while a silver circlet etched with ancient symbols wrapped around his head.
“DaKaren,” began the image with a knowing smile,
“I know this breaks our personal feelings regarding continuity, however, I believe the fate of this world is more important…”
The image took on a stern visage,
“The Shadowlords must not be allowed to ravage Sosaria, for they will spread from this shattered realm as a plague upon the multiverse. Their Master will settle for nothing less than total domination.
“Martyna was the key, for my future anyway…” he shrugged.
“Should she be the one to give you this message, all may be restored. Should it come only from the Iron Knight, then may the Virtues be with you – I am sorry.
“I must warn you; even a better future will be fraught with peril. Watch your new Liege carefully, for he is under Their aegis.
“The light of Dralath shines brightly on the Nascent,” it said in a conspiratorial tone, nodding deliberately.
“Ethereal Star, out.” The ankh and sun symbol appeared in the air briefly before the image winked out.
The Chancellor stood in silence a moment, contemplating the message from his future self. “Fascinating. I believe this bestows new meaning to ‘talking to yourself,’” he said quietly.
Starting for the stairway up to Martyna’s home, he stopped on the second step and turned to look at the forest behind him. His gaze settled on the massive yew tree a hundred feet away. A quirked eyebrow and a wry smile were quickly hidden as he turned and ascended the stairs, a new future awaited…
----
Kestal watched her father disappear into the library, she longed to run to him and learn of his life…
Maybe slip a knife into the heart of the librarian, just to be sure…
“I think he saw us, Watcher,” Mystra said, guiding the trio around the tree.
“Aye, hard to fool a Dral with a mere glamour, Sister.” The bearded man shrugged. “It matters not, he knows we mean well. I am more concerned that grandmother did not appear, that should not be possible.” He looked Kestal in the eyes. “For you to be possible, she had to appear…”
“Brother,” Mystra cautioned. “Thou must not speak of that...”
“Flux,” Watcher sighed, leaning against the massive tree. “We have set this point in flux… Grandfather always hated time travel, now I see why. I fear we must use it once more, Sister, for all our sakes.” He pointed at Kestal.
“What? Not again!” Kestal blurted, outraged. Still brandishing the dagger, she stepped towards The Watcher.
Mystra waved her hand at the weapon and it dissolved into a fine powder, lost to the wind and the snow. “He is right, child, you must leave this place. I understand now what we must do for you to survive; you have a destiny to fulfill after all.”
The Watcher stepped closer to his sister so he might whisper in her ear. “She must not remember this. Must not remember the future, meeting us, seeing…her,” he gestured at the library with his last word.
Mystra’s eyes widened slightly, emitting a soft azure glow. “Brother dear, don’t you see? This loop was meant to be, the universe is self correcting…” Mystra replied quietly, starting to stroke her left hand through Kestal’s dark tresses, beginning to change their color. “Her thread will endure.”
Watcher nodded sharply, watching the girl’s hair continue lighten. “A temporally recursive loop could potentially fracture causality across multiple dimensional folds… But, I agree. She must persist, if only for selfish reasons.”
Kestal’s blue eyes had unfocused and her went jaw slack.
“Father would be proud, Brother. Thee inherited his penchant for technobabble... and self preservation,” Mystra said with a smirk. “Please prepare the time gate.”
The Watcher stepped away from the tree and began to trace a complex series of silver runes in the air. He paused a moment, turning to look back as his sister completed her transformation of Kestal. “June of the year 300, I believe it was…” He traced several more runes before stepping away from his spell.
A chill wind whipped through the snow covered branches of the great yew, scattering the few remaining leaves before spiraling down to the glowing runes. Fine filaments of energy arced between each rune creating a pulsing silver glow which eventually grew into the form of a silver moongate.
Mystra and The Watcher led a confused looking toddler toward the gate, her long pink hair reflecting its light as it flowed over bare mocha skin. They stopped just short of entering, the Watcher bent down to look the completely transformed Kestal in the eyes.
“’Tis alright, little one.” he said quietly, brushing a tear of confusion from her cheek. “Thou art going to a better place, a better time.” He smiled, attempting to quell his own bout of tears. “Ye will finally meet thy father, my Grandfather.”
Kissing her on her forehead, he turned her toward the time gate. “Don’t worry, Mother, don’t worry…” A gentle push was all it took to ensure the paradox of her existence would continue…
---
Mid-June BY 300
A young-looking mage strode at a brisk pace through the maze-like canyons in the Serpent’s Spine Mountains. His purple cloak fluttered with the breeze of his travel, muffling the slight creaking of his bone armor.
He had decided to walk the distance from the tower of San Faelor to the Wind pentagram on a whim, choosing to eschew the rune which would have transported him directly there. It had been a long trek from the Order’s tower north of Vesper; however, the perfect weather had made the journey a delight.
He neared the final fork leading to the entrance hall. He was lost in thoughts concerning the impending trade negotiations between the Oder and the independent city when a small wail reached his ears.
Preparing an energy bolt to fend off a potential attack, he crept cautiously up to an intersection of pathways through the canyons. He raised a brow at the sight before him. It wasn’t the expected orc marauder or undead horror, but a naked pink-haired little girl. She stood next to a murky puddle looking up at him with frightened eyes, a sprig of nightshade drooped out of the right side of her mouth, wiggling as she chewed.
“Greetings,” the mage said in his friendliest voice. “Is your mommy or daddy around?” He glanced around the empty canyons.
“Daddy!” the girl burbled excitedly, her chubby legs bring her unsteadily towards him. She grabbed at his black robes. “Daddy!”
Taking off his cloak, he knelt down and wrapped it around her before scooping her into his arms. He stood and looked for her wayward parents once again. Still seeing nothing, he lowered his gaze to the child. “My name is DaKaren, what’s yours?”
The girl’s big blue eyes took on a new look of confusion. She reached up and grabbed a handful of the mage’s pale blue hair. “Doty Wan-nah,” she said hesitantly and then burst into giggles.
DaKaren smiled at the girl’s peculiar mirth, raising a hand to tussle her bright pink hair. “Alright, Dot is it? Let’s go find your parents…”
They strode through the last canyon and entered the marble hallway which led to Wind. Stepping onto the brazier-flanked pentagram they disappeared in a burst of swirling sparkles and into their shared destiny.
“Umbra Posterus averted, its chasm yawns no more.
Though future’s strife must persist for Paradox becomes anchor in the storm,
As shadows rage and plot, their minions infect our core.
Protect the ones you Love, for through Courage the Truth shall set thee free.”
-The Watcher
Umbra Posterus will return.