Time-Lost Exiles

But, how to do just that? Maevess glanced around her brother’s mess of a camp. “You know, Ann’da has been asking about you since the first time you visited our Kara. You didn’t stay very long and he’s been worried.” Her blue eyes traveled back to her brother. “You know you’re welcome there. And I’m sure Papa and Ann’da would jump at the chance to help with your magic.”

Just an hour ago Kyle was on the verge of losing his mind over burying his time-lost possessions and summoning a gateway into his past. Now guilt and shame were creeping into his thoughts. He realised now that using primitive magic wasn't the solution to finding the closure he so needed since the destruction of his timeway.

Pugwash sauntered toward the siblings, magical energy swirling as the felstalker shape-shifted into her feline form, chittering excitedly while making figure eights through the young chronomancer's legs and gently breaking him out of deep thought. "Oh, I, uh, didn't mean to make him worry. I was with the Timewalkers and didn't want them finding out that I'd been snooping around in your timeway..." he said, recalling the first time he met Maevess's Khadgar.

She sighed and pinched her nose, pondering the right words to say. “I was barely a toddler when my Minn’da passed away.” She dropped down, sitting cross-legged on the ground. “I don’t remember much about her. Or even what she looked like. Maybe… every now and then… a smell or sound will trigger some kind of memory. But, I don’t know enough to miss her like that.”

Her eyes focused on Kyle, trying to make out whether or not he was truly listening to her or scheming a way to send her off. “I don’t know anything about how you feel. That doesn’t mean you’re wrong to feel it. And if there was something I could do to help, I’d do it in a heartbeat. But… seriously? Ogre magic? Not exactly your best option…”

"I thought I could rebuild my life after the Bronze took me into their ranks, but the drakonids were a tough audience and weren't as accepting as the non-draconic friends I made after my timeline was sealed. They too had been displaced once, they came and left, most of them never returned, never survived...but it's not like the drakonids cared. Chronomancy was no mortal's magic in their eyes. We were just cannon fodder."

"I called out my abusive teachers, which led to my expulsion and Khadgar being forced to play mediator between the mortal spellcasters and the drakonids. I was given a year to figure things out on my own but it's been two years now. Time magic was something I learned out of necessity; a means to protect myself because I've been displaced and have nowhere else to go. Chromie said it was the better path for me. I believed her. But how am I to be taken seriously as a Timewalker, as a mage, when I can't even cast a teleportation spell without having a nose bleed?"

Her long brows knit together as she looked her brother-from-another-time over. He was dirtier–and smellier–than usual. Skipping a shower or two wasn’t uncommon amongst mages, same as skipping sleep, but Kyle looked close to one of the undead. It was time for Maevess to turn the nagging sister mode on, set aside the playful sister mode for another time.

“What brought all this on?” She asked. “When was the last time you even ate anything? And… uh…” she turned to Pugwash, “Does he have any proper clothing in the wagon? Can you fetch him some pants, at least?”

"Hmm. A kind dwarven family from a nearby farm I was working at insisted on packing some leftover potjie and pastries for my trip," he told Maevess while putting his clothes on. Kyle perked up slightly when he found one of his herbal spliffs hiding inside his pocket. "That was two nights ago…"

He pressed the tip of the joint between his fingers to light it up. "I've been observing the ogres here in Loch Modan and studying their magic. That's when I stumbled across one of their rituals and thought…" He breathed a chuckle, letting the herbal joint hang from his lips. "If I could just go back to a specific point in time...and propagate a series of new outcomes...I mean there is nothing malicious or criminal about wanting to be with my own mother, is there? I'm curious to know how my life would have turned out if she had lived, if my timeline had persisted and thrived like the others. The more I think about it, the more I understand why my father was livid, was, was, broken."

Kyle was trembling as he took a long drag from his joint.

To be fair, she wasn’t aware of all the details. And not because she hadn’t been paying attention during the rare times her time-lost brother spoke of his origins. He only gave her bits and pieces, leaving holes in a much larger puzzle. From what she could put together out of the little she had: Kyle’s timeline was destroyed a very long time ago.

“Besides,” Maevess continued, “This doesn’t look like any kind of time magic the Bronze would approve of. And you know Ann’da’s feelings on the subject.” She tried her best to not look suspicious as she scooted her way towards the camping chair, planning to snatch up the scarf and stuff it into her pants to prevent anything reckless from happening–at least until she could figure something else out.

While it was true that his timeline had been sealed away and deemed irreparable by the Timewalkers, Kyle had always believed in the possibility of resurrecting and salvaging the past. The possibility of reliving childhood memories, being in his mother's protective and loving embrace. But to make that experience a reality once again would require more than just arcanic science and textbook chronurgy. Witchcraft would be involved and if he wasn't careful, things could go wrong. People could get hurt. The consequences of his actions could send a rippling effect across all timestreams.

And the thought of disappointing a Khadgar, his biological or adoptive father, his sister’s father, Khadgar as a mere acquaintance, a colleague, mentor, the hero on his Hearthstone card, any Khadgar he’d ever met, was the last thing he wanted to do...

The felstalker couldn't be more grateful to have Maevess talking some sense into him. It was Pugwash who'd cast a veil over Kyle's vision, albeit temporarily, with what innate magical ability she possessed.

In the young mage's eyes, that blue knitted shawl was an old ratty towel unworthy of being buried along with his other possessions. He paid no attention to his younger sister as she tucked it away from his sight.

“Fine. I won’t go through with it.” Kyle plopped down, shifting his mournful gaze at the gentle waves of the lake. "You can leave."

He grasped Maevess firmly by the shoulders, taking a moment to realise that she was indeed his sister from another timeline and not some thieving tresspasser.

“You’re here! Just in time I–I need help with finalising a ritual–”

His piercing blue eyes had turned dull and bloodshot from sleep deprivation and smoking too much. He reeked of bloodthistle and his entire self was covered in dirt.

“I learned from the ogres that burying one’s possessions could open a gateway to the past. The Bronze keep telling me that I can’t go back to mine but there is a way. There has to be a way.” He motioned toward the spot he’d been digging for the past hour. “My old clothes, boots, hat, journal are all in there but I can’t find my mother’s scarf…”

He turned to Maevess, his voice faint and trembling. “I need this to work but not without my mother’s scarf. Please help me find it…I-I know…I know it’s here, somewhere, but I can’t…”

Pugwash stood at a distance, no longer in her feline form. The felstalker seemed concerned for the young chronomancer who was clearly unwell. But there was only so much a familiar could do.

“Will you help me, Maevess?” Kyle pleaded. “I just want to go home…”

Maevess winced at the force he used to grab her shoulders. “Wha–? A ritual?” She wrinkled her nose at the strong stench of bloodthistle, trying to process everything he was saying, but he spoke too fast. Then her eyes traveled to the massive hole. “Wait a minute!”

She pulled away, holding her hands up to plead for just a moment. “You buried your things!? Bucause you think…” she let out a heavy sigh as her brother cut her off again, babbling about some scarf and wanting to go ‘home’. Finally she snapped her fingers, summoning enough power to trap Kyle within a glowing purple bubble–and turning him into a sheep for good measure.

“There!” Maevess smirked at her handiwork, dusting off her hands. She approached the bubble, the arcane energy that formed it buzzed and sparkled as she tapped it with her finger. “Naughty mage cage time. I’ll let you out if you can promise me you’ll be calm. Just take a deep breath and nod your head when you’re ready.”

She waited, arms folded over her chest to make it look like she meant business. Her sheeped brother floated for a moment inside the bubble, wagging his four legs uselessly for some sort of purchase in the air. This only managed to slowly rotate him into an upside-down position. He then went limp. His sheep head nodded, accompanied by a vexed bleat.

Satisfied, Maevess tapped the bubble again, letting it burst as if it were made of water. Her brother landed at her feet.

"You're only insulting my intelligence when you do that," Kyle murmured, as he slowly rose to his feet, towering over her. He seemed taller than he had been almost a year ago when they last met.

So what was he doing? The half-naked mage glanced over at the hole he'd filled with his personal belongings.

"I'm summoning a portal to my past. So I can...go back to the way things were. I swear on Khadgar's time-lost pants I'm not going crazy. I know what I'm doing."

Kyle's pleading eyes met his sister's. "Will you please help me find my Mother's scarf?"

It was draped over a camping chair near the lake but for some reason, he could not see it.