Time Warped

Aedrys Brightwind stood in silence as the portal slowly closed behind the mage. He remained there for several minutes, his weathered brow flattening before he turned on his heels and started back towards the main entrance. A small cluster of people had been gathering around in the halls, as the portals to the main cities were opened, leaving more adventurous folk to pass through at their leisure. As he stepped with subtle ease, he started towards the Idyellia before pausing near a pillar of shadows just out of reach of the main foyer. To his side, a single digit quickly etched a rune upon the air, his words muttered under his breath.

As a shadow had been following him, it soon found itself entangled in a web of arcane magic, frosted over with a gleam of ice that would slice through the shadow’s flesh would it move further. The armored stalker stood to its full height, a hellish green glow flashed over the protective casing before the magical trap had dissolved completely.

“An anti-magic shield, and a strong one at that,” the elder archmage muttered, his arms folding along his chest slowly. “You’ve no business doing as you do, going where he goes. Stop giving him a false sense of hope.”

“How long have you known?” the Death Knight rumbled, his thin lips forming into a gnarled smile.

Aedrys glared at his younger brother. “For quite a while now, Finstere. I know you better than you know yourself, and right now, you are playing a very dangerous game. I have no problems sending you back in multiple burlap bags. Stay away from him.”

“He is my husband. I believe I’m entitled to--” “You are not entitled to anything,” the eldest sibling whispered loudly, a pointed finger nearly touching the other elf’s face. “His existence is an anomaly, as is yours, and until we are certain this is the path that won’t unravel, you will not do a damn thing. Am I clear on that?”

“...I thought you’d be much happier to see me, brother.”

Aedrys sneered at Finstere Brightwind. “I wish you all would have remained dead.”

Outside of the destroyed home, Aedrys watched as Serjei cautiously traversed the ground floor by blinking about, careful not to unsettle what kept the ceiling from caving in.  “What is it?”

“Time is warped here.  Both protected and meant to decay.  There’s a, uh… I see,” he stopped and looked up, waving his hands around in the air as if brushing something away from the ceiling.  The only thing to respond was a fading glimmer of sand drifting by.  “It’s a suspension spell.  Like one might use to suspend a body from decaying.  But without her actually here, it’s wavering - fading away.  I cannot tell if this was meant to be here before the invasion or done as a precaution.  No, it’s something else, I fear.”

“Can you follow the trail, child?”  Aedrys had blinked over to Jei before following the Sin’dorei towards the back of the house.  They entered what looked to be a spacious rock garden, charred lattice dangling overhead with nothing more than ashen vines hanging like plagued memories. 

Further towards the back, they found a shed that was somehow still in one piece.  After they had moved some pillars aside, Jei pulled the door open carefully.  Inside, an assortment of engineering tools were laid out over a workbench.  Sitting among the hammers, wrenches, and arcspanners, a small automaton sat, it’s cracked lense pulled open.  The sands of time had spilled out of it and blown over the blackened tools.

“Zeitnehmer…” Aedrys whispered under his breath, his heart tightening in his chest.  He moved besides Serjei before picking up the bronze construct.  “These sands, they would tell her story.  She used this to record everything.”  Behind him, the sound of footsteps moving distracted his momentary thought.  He turned around to see Serjei make quick absence of Finstere’s shed.  “Child?”

“It doesn’t matter,” the mage said, crossing his arms as he stared up at the clear sky overhead.  

Carrying the construct with him, Aedrys raised his brows at the comment.  “What makes you say that?”

“Who or what Jeimie was - it doesn’t matter.  Her life doesn’t matter.  Finstere?  Doesn’t matter.  She was weak and she let herself be dictated by rules and painful memories.  That is not a life worth living.  She had every opportunity to change all that and she didn’t.” Aedrys flinched.  He had heard similar words before and it did not settle with him.  “Didn’t she though?  In a way, she created you.”

Serjei motioned his arms around them, gesturing to the burnt rib-cage of a home.  “This is not my home.”  He then pointed to the shed.  “That was not my Finstere.  No, she took the easy way out.  And if I’m here because of that, I intend to live my life accordingly - to my standards.  Not her legacy.  In truth, I don’t even know what I was expecting to find here.  Actually, I was hoping to see how strong my predecessor truly was only to be disappointed.” Aedrys stared at the other mage, his thin lips turning downward with a wilt of his ears.  “She was not perfect, no.  But you do understand your being here is a result of her wanting to see her life different - as it was meant to be told.  A second chance to right the wrongs of her curse.”

“Told?  To who, Aedrys?  Who is left to even remotely care?  Your part in this is that you get to live, but what does that even matter?  She told me to come here.  I had a dream to come here.  And now I realize this was all a waste of time.  Typical of a dead Timewalker to be wasting our time...”

“Serjei, you sound listless and tired.  It has been a long day, I will confess to that.  But right now, you’re rambling.  I don’t think you realize how much this pains me to hear such nonsense.  What she did was … immaculate, precise.  She used every available method known to her, every power she could take upon herself, and rewrote history to make herself into you, child.  I’ve never known anyone else to pull such a feat.”

A hand jolted up to knock out the construct from the elder’s grasp, sending it crashing into a pile of rubble.  He then pointed to himself, his long hair tousled by the desert winds rolling through. “I am not her, Aedrys.  I’ll never be her.  Whatever expectations you may have of me to be her, leave them here to die like everything else.”  He turned to dig into his pockets, retrieving the folded parchment and photographs he still held on to, and his fingers curling to tear them apart.  He had only stopped when Aedrys had touched his shoulder. “Don’t,” Aedrys warned softly, shaking his head with an out-reached hand.  “Don’t break apart those moments.  They may yet have meaning.  You will regret that, child. ”

Serjei Brightwind gave pause as he stared down to faces he did not know, voices he would never hear.  A daughter he would never have.  A husband long since dead.  A friend he would never meet.  His face drew silent and still before shredding them in half and tossing the remains in the air, letting the winds guide their fate.  “I am not the person in these photos.  I am nothing like them, and I will never be.  And whoever remembers her will be sorely disappointed to see that I am beyond her.”

Why are you apologizing like this?  You did not do anything wrong.  Since when did a little honesty hurt anyone?  Wait -- you’re giving up?  Why?  Why don’t you -- why are you walking away?  Oh, you absolute coward!

The water is still pouring in, it’s still pouring out.  Everywhere.  Each time a light flashes, it attempts to bring back something that isn’t really there - a moment, a memory.  

But it does not belong to me.  This vulnerable heart is still beating, I can still hear it.  

There are words - it’s whispering.  Two voices.  Three.   More?  A strained word, a hollowed echo, a woman’s sigh, a baby’s cry.  I can’t hear you.  What are you saying?

Meet you where?

Serjei’s eyes opened slowly as he stared up at the ceiling yet his waking mind stared beyond the walls of his dark bedroom.  He inhaled slowly, his hands pressing down into the bedding beneath him as he forced himself to sit up.

“Meet me in Mar’at,” he breathed out slowly, one hand reaching up for his own throat.  His pink eyes danced about the dark room, trying to see if anything was out of place.  It was silent.

Jei stared at the wall.  “Where the hell is Mar’at?”

No answer.

Unsatisfied and more confused than ever, he swung his legs over the edge of the bed, finding his footing on the cold marble before waddling off to find his books, some of which were still sitting in boxes.  An hour into his search provided no results and the sun rising just over the thin, fine edges of Silvermoon.

Defeated, the archmage slumped into a plush chair and frowned, his fingertips gingerly rubbing into his brow.  “Right.  Over ten years of being in the dark, the world has changed much.  Likely some place I’ve never seen or known.”  Jei rotated his jaw in thought before jumping to his feet.  A quick twirl of fingers had a tea kettle full of water and settled on a warm stove whilst he gathered a map of the world and unrolled it over a table.

“But!  We are not without resources, are we?” he spoke to an empty room.  A light incantation brought up a glow of lines over the continents.  The Nexus, Karazhan, the Well of Eternity, the Sunwell; all points branching out into different directions and connecting with other smaller locales.  There was a larger one to the southeast of Northrend, and more further south of Kalimdor’s lower edges.  These convergences meant stronger points of raw energy.  There was one near the Caverns of Time and it streamed to the south.

Serjei clutched a hand around the leather satchel’s strap over his chest.  “They’ve every right to be concerned.  A few times, I’ve been asked if I was any relation to Sehrgei or Jeimie.  I said I was, only to disway any would-be questions.  If I may, you’ve said that Sehrgei and Jeimie were the same person?”

Aedrys nodded slowly.  “Indeed.  It was a weird … transition.  A magical mishap.  Jeimie could not reverse the effects of the potions.  And in some ways, I suspect that’s when she knew.”

“Knew what?  What did she know?”

Aedrys drew silent.  The elder sin’dorei placed a hand out to stop Serjei from moving forward.  His eyes catching an unsightly and empty street - all save for one woman dressed in white and gold.  Focusing his vision, he caught a glimpse of what the woman truly was.

“Serjei Brightwind,” she called out, walking towards the two elves with something hovering in her hands.  “Master Brightwind, it is a pleasure to finally meet you.  Your presentation tonight was astounding, truly.  You have such a raw and natural talent for the arcane.  Surely your mentor must be proud.”

Serjei stared at the beautiful woman for a long moment, his words lodged in his throat.  When he could finally bring himself to bear words, Aedrys had stepped between them, forcing the woman out of sight.

“Indeed, I am extremely proud.  Now, I implore you to speak plainly, dragon,” Aedrys returned, his voice driven cold despite the introduction.

“Well,” the woman started, her lashes fluttering before her smile turned downward with disdain.  “I see you have a particular gift, Lord Brightwind.  But my business is with Serjei.  I would very much like to speak with him in private.  I assure you, no harm will come to the archmage.  It would be very rude of me to do so, especially in a city such as this.” The elder Brightwind turned around and looked at his student while lifting a hand to Serjei’s shoulder.  “Have your words, child, but take caution: whatever she is offering, do not accept it.  Dragons cannot be trusted.”  Sharply, he resumed his stance towards the woman.  “You have five minutes.”

Without further word, the mage had blinked out of sight.

“I see the Brightwinds leave no room for trust and company of good-meaning fellows,” the woman chuckled, stepping forward to close the gap between herself and the lone mage.  The object spinning and ticking slowly in her hands looked like a broken clock, though carefully rearranged in such a manner that the individual segments churned to each second.  “I’m sure you have many questions, so I will spare us the time and get straight to the point: you’ve been selected to be enlisted among the Bronze dragonflight to become one of our own.”

Serjei blinked.  “A dragon?”

Wait, I know that relic...

“Ah, no, not exactly.  Rather, a defender and protector of Azeroth’s timelines - a Timewalker.  You see, we recognize true talent when we observe it. We know from our annals when a person is ready to embark on such a journey.  And it is quite the adventure, I assure you.  To protect the essence of time and to keep our stories in check requires the work of both dragons and mortals. This here would be our gift to you--”

Serjei’s brows flattened as he listened closely, and only upon realizing her intent did his interest immediately waive.  “That is the Tesseract Timepiece.  An instrument given to closely bonded chronomancers to keep their realities in check.”

“I see you’re also well read on Azeroth’s most prized trophies,” she replied, holding it out towards the mage.  She smiled widely when he accepted it into his own hands.  “Walk with me for a moment, won’t you?”

The mage stared down at the relic, his magenta eyes narrowing.  “I suppose I can … afford the time.”

“Oh, already making puns, I see.  Clever you.”  There was a strong aura to her as they continued to walk down the empty street. As Serjei looked around further, he noticed the emptiness was due to the lack of movement and sound.  She had frozen everything and everyone around them.  “You’ve eluded us before, you know.  And your predecessor has completed an amazing feat of strength - one far too complex for most mortals to decipher on their own.  You, however, show amazing talent and fortitude unlike those before you.”

“If you truly are what you say you are, then you should know what my answer will be,” he refuted, hoping she had not noticed the singed footsteps on the cobblestone that trailed behind him.

“Yes, we do.  However, such alternatives in the loop only last for so long before they return to normal. No many how many times you say ‘yes’ or ‘no’, this scene continues to play out and you will make a choice for the better.”  She slipped a hand into the crook of his elbow.  “With this opportunity, you can undo what damages your predecessor had done: you can save Finstere, you can save Alexandyr -- you can grow stronger to help those who cannot help themselves.”

Serjei Brightwind looked down at the Tesseract still hovering and spinning above his hands.  “You say that, but they made those choices themselves.  They put themselves on the line as that is their fate and destiny.  ‘Tis not mine to interfere, and no matter what I do would not make a difference anyway.  If anything, it would make it worse.  To deny them their deaths is to unravel their fates and make our lives meaningless.”

The archmage swung his arm up, throwing the relic into the air and watching it spin like a discus being flung up towards the moon.  Firmly standing his ground with arcane runes dancing at his heels, he raised his hands towards the timepiece and drew one arm back, firing off an fast array of arcane missiles.  The woman’s screams were smothered out by the destruction of raw arcane power exploding around them, sending the segments of the now splintered timepiece in all directions.  Sparkling glimmers of bronze sand gently drifted into the night sky.  

“What have you done?!” the woman roared, her voice nearly piercing through all sound.  “Have you gone mad?!”

Serjei dusted his hands off, clapping away the glitter from his own residual arcana.  He let out a scoff as he canted his head towards the woman whose long horns were now exposed.  The city around them now sped up to their time.  “I know how this story goes and I do not need your help to alter time - I can do that on my own.  What you failed to see is that Jeimie rewrote my psalm; I have a happier story now and it is my story to tell.”

The woman’s voice turned into a deep growl, her image shifting into a swirl of sands before disappearing.  “You have made a grave mistake, Brightwind.  You know not what you contend with…”

“I know well enough, lady dragon.  You should take time to find someone else more fitting for the job. Thank you and farewell.”  He lifted his chin up with a smug smile before turning on his heels and finding his voyeurist mentor only a few yards behind with his jaw agape.  “I did that, you know!  I did it!” Serjei called out to him, waving a hand with a cheerful grin.