The Present Past

Rolling green hills. Dirt paths. The only constant were the stars above. Everything else looked as though it belonged in the pages of the history books. Not that they were complaining. The fresh air and calm atmosphere seemed to be exactly what the proverbial doctor ordered, mellowing out Pwy’he and distracting Char from his sudden antagonism. Butterfly like creatures hopped from flower to flower, and in their wake, Char followed.
“Incredible. Glöynling went extinct before even we crawled out of our caves. But look, it’s the twenty fifth century and they’re alive. Incredible.” Since that one missed nightmare, Char seemed a new woman. Relaxed and happy; Lore couldn’t help but smile.
Following the road, they came to where the parking area would have been in their universe. Where it would have been, farmland sprawled. Lore was expecting it to be similar to O’Raes but they recognised the crop. Golden and stretching as far as the eye could see, corn waved in the breeze. With no farmstead visible and no-one but them around, they took a moment to think.
“If this is where we parked, logic follows that the city might be in the same place. We should head in that direction.” Lore pointed back the way they came. Their finger waned as it followed a hooded fellow walking towards them.
“How can I help you on this fine morning?” He spoke through a veil, his face completely obstructed.
“Hi. We’re new around here and were wondering if you could point us towards the nearest settlement?” Char softened her voice.
“You aren’t from around here.” He paused looking them all up and down. “The town centre’s not thirty furlong down this road. Might be a bit of a walk for the young lad.” He placed his hand on Pwy’he’s shoulder. “But he should be fine, stronger than he looks I say.”
“Thank you.” Lore put their metal hand to their left shoulder and bowed their head. The man followed suit.
Lore led the group with Pwy’he not too far behind and Char taking up the rear. She turned to question the farmer but he was nowhere to be seen. The road was long and far from straight but the scenery more than made up for it. Even on Earth, none of them had seen such an area of uninterrupted green. Then, over the horizon, a mountain erupted. Lore looked to their Breacher as they neared the mountain’s mouth. From the farm’s edge, they had travelled nearly five kilometres.
“We’re definitely still on Dekk Rekkarvik aren’t we because I seem to remember it being much smaller.” Char slumped at the side of the road. “Or at least in our universe everything was much closer together.”
“I’ll take a look.” Green light erupted from their hand as they cloaked themselves in Time’s energy. Then they vanished. “It is bigger.” They stared down on what they expected to be a pebble in the sea of space but in actuality was an almost Mercury sized planetoid. They returned and cast aside their energy field. “It’s a proper planet here, I think this is what Dekk Rekkarvik should look like.”
“It is.” A gateway appeared behind them as a bearded man entered the conversation joined by the farmer. “We have things to discuss it seems.” With a wave of his staff, the gateway began to travel towards them, engulfing them in one smooth motion.
The whole room staggered as if drunk and thrown off balance by their sudden presence. From the window behind them, amber light poured in. The city resided above the well of the active volcano they had been unknowingly approaching, suspended by four chains and a single wooden bridge.
“May I tempt you?” Varkral waved a goblet, pointing towards an aged cask before him. The farmer nodded. “Lore? Char? Child?”
“Yes please.” Pwy’he smiled as Varkral began pouring. Char’s stern glare did little to dissuade him. Varkral looked to Lore.
“Just a little.” Lore winked. Char slapped them. After pouring the frothy liquid, and out of vision of Pwy’he, Varkral tapped his staff to the goblet. The liquid went from bronze and frothy to a reddish violet and still.
“I’m not having him drinking alcohol.” She took the goblet from Pwy’he as soon as he came into possession of it.
“Char. It’s not alcoholic.” They took a sip. “It’s juice.” Lore offered her a sip. She put her lips to the goblet and allowed a single drop in.
“Fine.” She smiled. “How’d you do it?”
“Magic. And I don’t mean that facetiously. Apparently, that’s not the multiversal constant so I have to explain it.”
“Multiversal constant?” Lore took a seat opposite Varkral.
“The one thing that links all realities, the common thread. It’s inconsequential. What are you doing here and more to the point, how did you get here?”
Lore raised their sleeve, revealing the scar. “I had a theory and it turned out to be true…”
Varkral cut them off. “You have a stable nexus in your arm. Incredible, that would certainly have enough energy to get you here.”
“Nexus? We were calling it a rift but ok. We focussed our energies into a crystal. It exploded and impaled me. I think I literally met my maker for a bit too.”
“You saw god?” Varkral sipped at his beer.
“Reality. He showed me the multiverse.”
“My apologies but did you say he showed you the multiverse?” Varkral damn near fell from his stool.
“I was floating in the void as he dragged me through the multiverse. That’s part of why we’re here. You, this universe, it’s in a decaying orbit. If we can’t stop it, your entire universe will be destroyed and my universe won’t come off much better.”
“Incredible.” He leant forward. “Part of?”
“Long before we met, I had twenty four colleagues that looked almost identical to me and twenty six that looked like Char. Reality stole them to stop my universe from decaying. He scattered them across the multiverse and got most of them killed. We just want to make sure our numbers don’t decrease further and this universe is supposedly home to one of them.”
“And I’m guessing you mean me?” Varkral refilled his drink. Lore nodded. “So you’re here to stabilise my universe.” He took a moment. Alright, I’ll help you and perhaps you can help us. Where do we start”
“A history lesson I think.” Lore smiled as Varkral turned to the shelf behind him and lifted a tome thicker than them. The Ripple Effect.