31. The Currency of Time
The Currency of Time
ALASTAIR
Waves continued to roll toward the shore, but something within the current had shifted. The water churned, not with the sudden impending storm, but with deliberate purpose.
Ellira had arrived, her presence notable with each crash against the cliffs of Hollowmere.
Wind whipped beneath her rage, slicing through every small alley and etched line of erosion worn into the face of the village.
A soft sing-song joined each lashing breeze, cut off by the ravenous thunder overhead.
But even in knowing she loomed, there was something else lurking below the very depths she commanded.
Attention transfixed on the shore, blue armor caught the light.
The first polished helm broke the surface, and a curved blade followed, dripping seawater.
Born from the ocean, men stood one by one, the armor they wore crafted by the hand of the goddess who had summoned them.
Their bodies were carved by the very waves Ellira ruled, but their arrival brought a darkness one would never have expected—one molded by the God of Death, Ellira’s counterpart after her first lover, Sereyn, passed.
“Holy shit,” Leilani breathed from beside me, her gaze undoubtedly locked where mine had landed.
Ignis’ timbre chased hers, but where shock clung to every syllable of Leilani’s utterance, Ignis spoke with excitement. “So after centuries of rest, the mother of the seas has finally called upon the soldiers loyal to her.”
“You were aware of this?” Pivoting, I met his all-white eyes with my own. “You mentioned the prophecy, but this—”
“Is part of it,” Ignis corrected, voice wavering a little as my chin shot in their direction.
“The tales those of our lineage shared began with the arrival of the Others, followed by the slipping of humanity. But the first component of the prophecy itself is the stirring of the gods. It begins with the sharing of words between the Children and their respective god parent. From there,” they gestured toward the portal beside us, “the manifestations of portals linked to the Other Realm.”
“So, it’s a meshing of our worlds?” Syoran questioned, his sudden arrival near enough for me to draw my sword.
“No.” Ignis crossed his arms over his chest, watching as Ellira’s men flooded the town. “The portals serve one purpose: to wreak havoc. As soon as Sorva gets what she wants, they will seal, and this realm will remain. But that is not the end of it.”
“What follows?” Peering between me and the Fae from the tavern, Kael’s seafoam irises flared with concern. “If she gets what she wants, that is.”
“The control of two of the gods.” His throat bobbed, a lengthened exhale escaping him. “Caspian and Rohen. She will evoke their interest by agreeing to unbind Alastair’s former friend—”
Two sets of bony fingers curled around the lip of the portal.
Talons sank into the cobblestone, cracking it further with the wrath the Other Realm harbored.
A head peeked from the chasm, and hollow eyes found us.
Cocking its head to the side in a similar fashion to the first one we’d interacted with, the creature studied us as if harboring… intelligence?
A steady hum rolled from it, but it wasn’t the eerie tune that forced us back a step. It was the words it spoke. “The God of Luck and War peers at us through your stare, Alastair Seridean.”
My knees buckled as soon as its hissed claim assaulted my senses.
Colliding with the fissure-laden street, a rasped breath slipped between my lips as a surge of something familiar yet foreign snaked through my veins.
Ribs expanding with my next breath, a sensation similar to adrenaline swathed my system, and with it came a voice.
“It’s taken too damn long to break through that fucking barrier.”
Earth tilted under me, and my palm greeted stone as I struggled to keep myself upright. Every sound around me amplified, the grey hues beneath my hands pulsing with a newfound brightness.
“The more you try and fight it, the worse it’ll be,” the man crooned, as if in enjoyment. “You’ve always struggled with letting go of the reins of control, haven’t you, Son?”
I blinked once. “Jaskor?”
“The formality,” he groaned, humor clinging to his smooth tone. “I would prefer Dad, though Father will suffice, I suppose.”
“How is this even—”
“We can discuss nuances later.” The familiar brush along the edges of my subconscious ignited countless memories, more specifically, each time I’d heard Elaros’s blaring call.
At my wandering thoughts, Jaskor chuckled, “In anticipation of your curiosity, might I remind you that Rohen has been speaking to Ellira for… how long now?”
A fearful cry stole my focus. “Alastair!”
My head swiveled, and Leilani cupped my face. Her gaze frantically searched for mine, her shoulders rising and falling in rapid spurts. As her thumb traced along my cheek, I followed her touch, leaning into the comfort she always wrapped me in.
“Ace,” she practically whispered. “Are you…”
Her query faded as a crack of cartilage replaced it.
A shadow loomed, and as I peered up, the creature's faceless expression greeted me. It twitched once, and I caught the sluggishness with which it moved. Compared to the speed of its former counterpart, something about it seemed controlled. Almost as if it didn’t have full access to its true potential.
“Look around you,” Jaskor interrupted again.
Obliging his command, I peered out of the corner of my eye in the direction Syoran had been before my collapse. Mid-stride and swing, his sword aimed for the otherworldly beast awaiting its meal, but he… He froze in place, as if the very concept of time had become an anomaly.
“W-What…”
“This is a glimpse into how my abilities work, how you have been able to dodge the impending doom you have stepped into countless times in the past. As the God of Luck, seconds and minutes become assets I wield, ones that I can toy with just enough to obtain benefit.” His brief pause told me he was giving me a breath to process.
“As the God of War, hesitation and distraction become detrimental. The very damnation of one's existence, which, apparently, you haven’t learned quite yet. But when human error is introduced, there is a need to manipulate time to my advantage.”
“So you’ve… rewritten history?”
“Not necessarily,” he replied. “Though I will not deny that, as my Son, my capabilities of toying with the strings of fate just enough is how you’ve skated around sitting across a table from Elaros. And believe me when I tell you that is the last thing you would want to do.”
Mind reeling, I pulled back from Leilani’s touch just enough to glance at the others.
Unmoving, they each held a pose similar to Syoran’s, one indicative of saving both my little fang and me from the hellish torment that awaited us.
Not one of them blinked, nor did their chests rise and fall with the influx and release of oxygen.
They were… statues.
“How… How long can you do this for?”
“Without Ysalyne getting pissed off at me? A day at most. Though I’m certain you do not wish your friends unmoved for that long, correct?”
Running my tongue along my bottom lip, I swallowed to coat the dryness of my throat. “Well, yes. But—”
“But nothing.” The god’s timbre held no room for argument, an intensity clinging to it that hadn’t been there before. “Do you wish to see this realm crumble beneath the influence of Sorva and the corrupt experiments she has created?”
“No.”
“Good,” he hummed in satisfaction. “It is time you stepped into your role as my heir, and with that title comes power far more potent than you even realize. If you truly wish to see Wraelira reinstated to its former health, then rise and show your friends all that you are capable of.”
“Which is what exactly?” The question came from me without hesitation, every part of my essence recoiling at his suggestion. “You are acting as if I haven’t been fighting my whole life, as if I am incapable of standing my ground without your influence. My friends are perfectly aware of—”
“My apologies, I can come off quite… brash, as my counterparts like to inform me.” Jaskor exhaled as if trying to hunt for the right words, and after a few passing seconds, he spoke once more.
“You have always carried greatness. That is undeniable. Just as you have always been more than capable. As much as I wish I could have connected with you sooner, there were circumstances outside of my realm of control. I am sorry for the time you have spent alone, questioning your importance in this world and why you have been spared so many times. Truth is, I value you endlessly, Alastair, and that is why I have intervened as often as I have. You are needed in this plane of existence because there is a greatness you wield that no other does.”
I bit the inside of my cheek in an attempt to rid myself of rising emotion. “And you plan to do what? Show me this greatness?”
“No.” He chuckled softly, and I couldn’t help but grin at the sound. “I am here to remind you, for you are the one who will showcase it all. Because, at the end of the day, you are my Son, and there is no fucking battle we will lose.”