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Four knocks. It had been an hour since they had last heard The Chronicle’s voice and while the time alone was productive, there were questions to be asked. Just as Lore raised their fist to knock once more, the door opened. They were dragged in as the door slammed behind them.
“It is now time.” The Chronicle smiled. He gestured to a low table with two steaming cups. “Sit. You have questions.”
“What about Char?” Lore looked to the door and could hear Char trying to break through.
“This is your time. Hers will come soon.” He once again beckoned Lore over. “You come here to fix what has already happened yet you know nothing of the consequences.” The Chronicle shook his head. “My long life has taught me many things but that which I hold most dear is my grasp on time.” Lore sat with him and patiently waited for his explanation. “Long ago, another bearing your face visited me. They showed me many wonderful things, they extended my life.”
“You met Loren?” Lore interrupted excitedly.
“No. I believe they called themselves ‘First’. Anyway, this First helped me to understand something amazing. The key to our salvation.”
“What?” Lore waved their hands in an attempt to speed up the conversation.
“Answer me this: Why is it so important to you that my people are spared this famine?” He watched as Lore’s face dropped.
They considered their answer for a moment but the silence made it feel longer. Lore looked as though they were about to talk before tapping their right shoulder. “This.” Their eye began to water. “More often than I would like to admit, I dream of the day I lost it. I’m there, burning sands around me, staff unfurling in my hand. The heat, the noise, the faint but growing taste of blood in the back of my throat from the exhaustion.” They swallowed. “The duel usually plays out how it did in reality, we fight, Crait sending Edge’s blade through my shoulder then I wake up as if it’s just happened.” Lore rubbed their shoulder. “But sometimes, sometimes I lose. Instead of taking my arm, they take my head but instead of waking up, the nightmare continues.” They paused. “I watch as he fights off the other Lores and Chars with ease before wiping out the Quatarrians again. And when their done, I wake up. And every time, I have to check to make sure that they’re safe. I want to save your people because I’m fed up of watching other people die because of people like me.”
“People like you?” He calmly sipped at his drink.
“Time travellers that think that they own the universe. Time travellers that think they can do anything. Every day, I’m reminded of how reckless I was agreeing to Crait’s duel and every night I see what could have happened if my luck ran out. No one else dies.” If they could cry, now would have been one of the times; instead they remained in an emotional limbo, unable to express their true sadness but feeling every second of it. “No one else.” They whispered, head in their hands.
There was a pause as Lore attempted to regain their composure. “Time is not what most people think it is. Time is a force but it has its own will. Many see time as being alike to an ocean but that’s only part of the story. Time is constantly changing but is best visualised as a mountain spring. The water starts at the top of the mountain in a puddle. In this case, the mountain is reality and the water is time.” He turned to his shelf and removed a strangely new and plasticky model mountain. He poured his drink onto its peak. The hot water pooled at the top. “As time progresses, it makes its way down the mountain’s face, twisting and turning as it goes.” He removed a section of the mountain, revealing a winding path for the water to follow. “Time goes where it wants, does what it wants but sometimes people do things to change its path.” He placed his finger in the water. It pooled up and began spilling over the channels edges. “That is what people expect time to do. When confronted with change people expect time to fall to Chaos. But like water, Time is smart. The water knows that when hit with an immovable object, the best course of action is to find an easier path.” He removed his finger and a hidden section of the mountain.
“It’s looped back on itself.” Lore watched as the water followed its new path before continuing as it once had.
“Time isn’t linear. If it can be changed, Time will allow it.” He smiled. “ Time comes in two main varieties, fixed and fluid. Fluidic time can be changed, fixed is as it sounds. It takes skill to know which is which but I think you know that.”
Lore’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”
“When you first met Tay, what was your first impression? You liked her. You didn’t know why but you did. During your second meeting she revealed herself as your child. Your first instinct? To keep it from the woman you love. You have been touched by Time and in return it has left you a gift. The intuition, the knowhow to change it.”
“Wait, how do you know about Tay? The First couldn’t have been there… Could they?” Their voice grew ever the more uncertain as they pondered their situation.
“I never said they told me. I have many visitors, many of them seem to know you.” He removed a crumpled sheet of paper from a nearby stack.
“Ask Lore these questions then show them the mountain.” Lore studied the handwriting. They knew it but couldn’t place it.
“Trust your instincts and they shall trust you. Also remember that Time is your friend not a foe to be vanquished so treat it as such.” He continued to read from an adjacent sheet. “Good luck.” Lore took the script and soon realised they couldn’t read it. “My words not yours.” He smiled as he stood. He bounded across the room and opened the door. “While you should trust your instincts, I don’t want you fighting a losing battle. Your medallion will assist you.” He pointed to their chest. “But only when you need it.” He smiled, ushering them back into the library. “I hope you’ve got everything you need.”
“Actually…” Char was about to start but Lore shook their head.
“Thank you.” They smiled. “You’ve given us a lot to think about.”
“I only hope I have.” His smile matured into a concerned frown.
Lore turned away from The Chronicle and towards Char. “Ready?” They lifted their Breacher. Char nodded. Seven Years.