His Legacy – Tutelage

Today class, we’ve a guest speaker following our studies in the field of chronomancy. I trust you’ll be as welcoming as I am of the Magister Dawnpride into our classroom today.” The Forsaken instructor of the Sorcerous Society, Mortis Xalavius, motioned to the well dressed gentleman with firey red hair and equally crimson clothing lined with golden threads. Those gathered rise to meet the Magister respectfully. “Thank you for having me; I must admit I’m not in the habit of leading a lecture so I’ll keep this informal and if you’ve any questions to pose – simply stop me mid-monologue and I’ll do my best to address your concerns… That said, lets examine the core concepts of chronomancy….”

To Astoreth Duskflame-Firewing,

At the time of this writing, I know that I am nearing the end. For all my collective efforts in staving off this curse most closely related to tuberculosis, I could not escape it. Your efforts, sacrifices and helpful words have calmed me over time, and I no longer fear the darkness of the end as I once did. We’ve tried everything, pacts with demons, modern medicinal practices, even the ancient creatures that dwell far beneath the ground in forgotten bastions. Thank you for keeping my treasure in trust, and for promising to look after it in my stead – even if the words themselves were not true I have found much comfort in them.

I know not when my caretaker will appraise it as ready for the world, but I know that when at last it is ready for the light of the sun, it shall find you just as surely as it is to find the Lady Scrywind. The years have not been kind to us, Astoreth. We’ve toyed with each other, magically, socially, and sexually – for all of these joined experiences, I am left to ponder what more I could have actually taught you beyond my own curriculum born of dementia and unbridled fury. After giving it much thought, I considered entrusting an actual spell into your care.

Naturally I thought better of it, giving you insight into my arcana is mad in and of itself; So instead I elected to pass along my notes on Chronomancy, The Study of Illusions, and perhaps most interesting to you, the means by which I embraced the Fellish energies, rather than simply work to bend them to my will. These too will be delivered by hand with my enduring legacy when the time comes that it is most appropriate in the eyes of my executor. Do not let this sway your thoughts, in regard to our practice.

You are not – nor shall you ever be – my equal. If anything my passing serves to prove a point; I am that which you’ve compared yourself to time and again and no longer have you means to gauge your prowess on my scale. I have escaped the confines of this narrow existence in favor of a new life created amidst the shrouds of creation. This world have I long craved, a measure of peace I could only dream of now promised to me in the coming days. I can scarcely imagine a word more fitting than glorious. Serenity was only ever a passing dream – though for irony’s sake, that same serenity is now to be found in a sleepless dream.

Setting aside my own egotism, I am proud of you. For every challenge, every trauma, and every impossible situation I laid upon you; You rose to the occasion, exceeded my expectations, and proved that not only are you a capable Fel-Weaver, but a capable individual. Should there ever come a day when magic fails you, I am assured that you’ve the experiences and the intuition to scrape by, if only just barely. Mine is a madness few can  hope to match, after all.

“…Time travel in and of itself is impossible for us mere mortals; We cannot simply warp to a predetermined point and start wrecking merry havoc upon events we consider history – and even if we could, the caretakers of Time would certainly see us righted once again, for such is their charge.” The Red Magister drew a few lines upon a chalk board, each parallel, never touching. “This… This is time, in it’s truest representation – or at least as I’ve found in my experiments.” He ran his right hand through his hair with a sigh, as a hand shot up. “Yes?” He pointed to the bright eyed young man. “Magister – are you implying that ‘time’ exists in more than one point, or that it only flows in one direction?”  Anetho nods. “Not at all.” He replied simply, drawing more lines upon the chalkboard, each extending from the original lines in differing directions.

“It’s rather curious; The majority of people embrace a very… ‘entrenched’ concept of time. T’is not so much a river flowing from past to future in only one singular direction…Here… Let’s say I go back in time and kill… oh say a rabbit. Doing so leads to an alteration of the events, or event horizons… This results in a shift of ‘world lines’ into a world without the rabbit. When that world line shifts, you might say the world continues forth without the existence of the rabbit, any and all memories of the rabbit past that point simply cease to exist and twist conveniently to fit the new world-line that’s just been created; Conversely in our ‘world line’ the rabbit is still jumping about, fucking up everyone’s garden, with no knowledge or reason to suspect it’s life was ever in jeopardy. That said we’ll share similarities with the original world-line, however, those directly affected by the rabbit would of course follow a different path, no thanks to your efforts or lack thereof.”

The students smirked and giggled amongst each other at his use of profanity – the instructor only shot him a glare to which the Magister only replied with a sly smile and a shrug. Another hand shot up, a young woman this time. “Yes? You with the lovely curls.” She stood and addressed him. “If that’s the case, then are you saying that the world is overwritten entirely, or that you’ve taken up another existence in place of the world you were originally from?” Anetho shook his head. “Yes and no. In all technicalities you still exist in the original world line, however the memories and experiences, in theory, travel with you to the opposite and assert themselves into that world-line’s variation of you. It’s more a means of jumping bodies than it is actually leaping about dates in time.”

Another hand. “Magister, that would imply that you could only travel to a certain point, if you were to attempt warping yourself to a date prior to your birth, what would happen then? Or is that even plausible?” Anetho continued to draw more lines upon a chalk board. “To date, I don’t know of anyone whom has actually attempted the use of chronomancy to transport themselves back in time, nor have they successfully drawn anyone back who had volunteered to travel through the ‘temporal displacements’ in the ley lines… That said, this theory behind Chronomancy is one of many, but the world-line ideology is the one with the most support behind it, with such credibility lent in part to the Bronze dragons themselves… Though they don’t exactly encourage experimenting with that knowledge either… How do they say it…” He puffed up his chest and amplified his voice via mana to sound imposing, holding both hands aloft and wiggling his fingers obnoxiously. “That which was…. Shall always beeeeeee!” This elicited another bout of snickering.

In the future, a future without Anetho Dawnpride, you must be especially careful. Many are the paths that I shall no longer be able to sway you from, and greater the temptations along those roads. Know that the way paved mostly of glitter and gold, was often paved at the backs of slaves promised the very same they worked with. Darkness is ever your companion – mind the quiet places of the world, for they often speak with the greatest wisdom and most potential. Explore beyond your boundaries and safe havens – Dare to question the taboo of even Felscythe’s coven. In those places of forbidden knowledge are keys to power and possibility greater still.

In the end, I have your heart, your mind, and your soul. I’ve stolen you from Westel – for if I occupy all three, where does that leave him? A collateral victory, I rather think. This is enough to satisfy me in this lifetime.

-Anetho L. Dawnpride-

“Now of course, the world-line theory exchanges some principals with the thought that it is possible to physically warp this world-line’s physical manifestation of yourself into a fixed point – making it very possible to warn yourself not to entreaty that pompous asshole that stood you up for your date.” He winked to a particular woman in the back row who only lifted her chin indignantly. “As I’ve said, I don’t believe it’s plausible. There are a few who’ve claimed to have done it, but I don’t imagine the Bronze flight looks upon them kindly. The Timewalkers, specifically those with the titles of  Watcher and Weaver, are the only ones known to be able to ‘bounce’ freely. Now, there is speculation as to whether or not it’s because they exist in all forms of world-lines past, present, and future, or if they’ve simply found a way to escape the principals of world-lines alltogether. For that matter it may just be a combination of the aforementioned in some sort of collective influence of the existing theories.”

“It is important to note, that chronomancy is still an infantile study – again with thanks to the Bronze Dragonflight. They aren’t exactly helpful in the field beyond offering vague representations of what it is, which is why most scholars are apt to fend for themselves.” Anetho sat the chalk down upon the counter, looking over the mass of lines; and then to the stick men labelled ‘A’ and ‘B’ divided by a line. “Now, if it were in fact possible to leap as the Wardens and Weavers of time do – it’d work something similar to this… World A and World B. You can, in theory, leap between the two and alter history directly. World A continues as it would have without your intervention – but World B… it becomes it’s own special case. Often the Bronze Dragonflight swoop in and set things correctly, and if hearsay is to be believed… Write you out of it entirely; Essentially you never come back to World A and cease to exist in World B. “

He crossed out the figured over ‘B’ and erased the figure over ‘A’. “Thus that which was, shall always be and the alternate world-line either pitters from existence with you, as you don’t exist to bridge the differences… Essentially preserving the original world-line in it’s entirety. No parallels, no fuss, and nothing to clean up. Very efficient means of control when you think about it.” The young woman with curls raised her hand once again. “M’lady?” She rose and spoke softly. “And if you were to somehow get around the Bronze Dragonflight?” Anetho paused, tapping his lips in thought a moment with his index finger. “…In that instance, m’lady… You’ve given rise to a very curious, troubling, and all together beautiful impossibility of infinite possibilities. I couldn’t even begin to speculate on the matter as it just seems to complex, especially given the documented nature of the Bronze Dragonflight’s zeal in maintaining the appropriate flow of what we perceive to be time.”

P.S. But what do I truly know of the heart, power, and proper magicks? I’m just a mortal man like any other. 

No, I suppose that won’t be true at the time you receive this. I’ll be immortalized for so long as you exist. A lovely thought.

King’s Rook takes Queen. Check-Mate.

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~ by anethodawnpride on August 15, 2014.

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