Circular Time

MY NAME IS ARSHES MEGANE AND I AM IMMORTAL. As the Angel, Purity, comes to Cleanse Tempestria of all sapient life, the Guardians are surrounded by echoes in Time, forcing them to revisit some of the most critical moments of their lives. It seems as if Time itself is tempting them, as they look back and see how far they have come, before they face a future where nothing is certain…even the past. They learn that even attempting to defeat an Angel carries enormous risks, leaving them with a terrible choice: Surrender the future to Purity’s burning Light, or stand against her and risk the erasure of all time and space. Events are coming full circle, and perhaps, despite all their victories, some things are inevitable. This is the story of The Salvation of Tempestria, as told by an immortal girl from the future using an Illegal Time Intervention to save the world…or possibly end it.

Chapter 1 Dreya the Dark was excited, almost breathless with anticipation. It was the day before Midsummer, the beginning of a new era in her life. This was her last day to be alone. Catriona had left a message in her bedroom. It read: Midsummer’s Day. Midday. You and me. Let’s talk. She’d found that message a few weeks ago, after talking to Pryshia, which meant she’d needed to revise her plans for her conquest of the Pantheon, home of the gods. So, before the lioness could get far, she had portalled straight back just long enough to say, “Sorry, slight change of plan: Midsummer’s Eve.” She didn’t bother entering her mind – she didn’t care about anything Pryshia might have to say. It wasn’t a negotiation. She could either comply or not. Either way, Dreya would act. Dreya had originally specified Midsummer’s Day because she wasn’t sure what a god’s concept of Time might be like, and she thought that would serve as a landmark. Surely, though, she could cope with the concept of one day before. She would have to because Dreya was going to be busy on Midsummer’s Day. Dreya was thankful that her plans would keep her so busy today. One day – that was all she had to do this. Years ago, she’d taken the Black Tower in five minutes, forced a shadow warrior to his knees in an hour and conquered a world full of dragons in a spare afternoon. Yes, she’d had problems since, but she was back in control now, at the peak of her powers. One day to bring the gods into line seemed like a reasonable extrapolation from past achievements. Just one more day, but a lot could happen in a day, she knew. It was imperative that tomorrow should pass trouble-free. She would get only one shot at this. Everything had to be perfect. Dreya caught her reflection and realised she was smiling. Tomorrow was the anniversary of both the day they met and their wedding. Of course she was smiling. Everything was going to be alright. Catriona was going to fall in love with her all over again. ***** Princess Zarinda was excited, almost breathless with anticipation. It was the day before Midsummer, the beginning of a new era in her life. This was her last day to be alone. Her father had left a message in her bedroom. It read: Midsummer’s Day. Midday. Your wedding, and my treaty. Looking forward to giving you away. She’d found that message a few weeks ago, after talking to the Black Guardian in her mind, which meant she’d had to revise her plans to visit friends that evening. She was too tired from giving so much energy to Dreya, especially after healing all day, but it had been worth it. Her father’s plans had forced her to close her healing centre, and she was sad about that, but she had to because she was going to be busy on Midsummer’s Day. She had always dreaded her wedding, and that feeling of dread had steadily grown since her father first introduced her to Prince Ethan of Quarthonia. Their first and only meeting, according to tradition, before they were wed. Ethan seemed nice enough, but she didn’t really know him. Yet she was to marry him, all to serve her father’s political ambitions. She didn’t want to do it but could never see a way out. Just one more day, but a lot could happen in a day, she knew. It was imperative that tomorrow should pass trouble-free. She would get only one shot at this. Everything had to be perfect. But she was worried. She’d started having that dream again. She hadn’t told her father. He must not know – she dreaded to think what he might do if he did. Dreya the Dark appearing in Ainderbury, magic flashing everywhere, advancing on the traditional outdoor wedding chapel and rescuing Zarinda just as she was about to be forced to speak her vows to her groom. Taking her away, most likely to save her from this fate, inviting her to live with her in her Black Tower, where she would love her and protect her from her father’s ambitions. Her father had always maintained it was just a silly dream, a childish fantasy or fascination, but last night the dream had been particularly intense, and she’d realised he was wrong. It was more than a dream. It was prophecy. Her wedding was never going to happen because, at the crucial moment, Dreya would appear and take her away with her, saying those three beautiful words, “I need you.” A few years ago, she never would have believed in prophecy, but in these days of Time magic, it must at least be possible. Even when she’d heard about the Red and Black Guardians having personal problems, she hadn’t really paid it much attention. But then, as she heard it told, Catriona had left Dreya. She didn’t know why, probably just a misunderstanding, but Catriona had not been seen at the Black Tower since. Zarinda was sorry about that and wished she could heal a broken relationship as easily as a broken leg. Still, these things happened, and life moved on. If Dreya should turn to her in her hour of need, then whatever precious thing Dreya needed from her, she would give it freely. After all, they were both Faery. In her dreams, when she saw herself standing there in her wedding gown, she caught her reflection and realised she was smiling. Zarinda had always assumed it must be a fake smile she was forcing herself to wear. Now she knew better. Of course she was smiling. Dreya the Dark was coming to save her. ***** Prince Travarin was excited, almost breathless with anticipation. It was the day before Midsummer, the beginning of a new era in Sylfrania. This was his last day to be the Prince of a minor province. He had left a message in his daughter’s bedroom. It read: Midsummer’s Day. Midday. Your wedding, and my treaty. Looking forward to giving you away. He’d left that message a few weeks ago, after talking to Prince Ethanerlathian of Quarthonia. As ninth in line to the throne, he would never be crowned king, but it was considerably better than his daughter’s position in the Sylfranian hierarchy, which currently stood at forty-six. However, he had picked up the annoying habit of shortening his name to ‘Ethan’ instead of wearing his full name proudly. Frankly, his name wasn’t long enough to reflect his status as it was. Travarin had told his daughter in no uncertain terms that she was to only address him as Prince Ethanerlathian and that she must insist upon Princess Zarindalauryndanorvana. Simply ‘Zarinda’ was insufficient to reflect her elevated standing. Or her father’s. Travarin had never forgiven his father for giving him such a short name. The king had always insisted it was not intended as a slight on his youngest son, but rather it came from a desire to ‘modernise’ Sylfrania. Frankly, that was even worse. Some parts of Sylfrania were beginning to open themselves up to humans and even aliens. Not Ainderbury. Prince Travarin had tolerated occasional wealthy humans attending his daughter’s healing centre only because, if she did insist on pursuing that ridiculous hobby, she could at least use it to forge connections. Then there was that request, a few years ago, to treat some old human wizard’s eyesight. The prince had granted the request in the end only because it came directly from Catriona Redfletching, who was of Quarthonian Faery stock, even if she was a half-breed. Sending a visa to the home of Dreya the Dark, the Faery Who Fell, had been distasteful, but he had swallowed his bile and done it. He made sure that magnanimously granting such a favour did not go unnoticed in the Quarthonian Royal Court. Anything to strengthen the bond. Tomorrow, at last, his daughter would be married. Then, after a certain period, to show proper respect and deference to the Quarthonian Crown, he would begin to exert his new influence. Correct some of their fanciful progressive notions, like allowing humans to live within their borders and pretend to be Faery. He would help them reverse such errors in judgement and lead them back towards a more traditional way of life. Hopefully, that would rub off here at home, too. Just one more day, but a lot could happen in a day, he knew. It was imperative that tomorrow should pass trouble-free. He would get only one shot at this. Everything had to be perfect. But he was worried. His daughter had been having that dream again. The one she’d been having for years. She hadn’t told him, but he could tell. Dreya the Dark appearing in Ainderbury, magic flashing everywhere, advancing on the traditional outdoor wedding chapel and kidnapping Zarinda just as she was about to speak her vows to her groom. Taking her away, most likely to keep her from her destiny, forcing her to live with her in her Black Tower where she would corrupt his daughter and have her evil way with her. Outwardly, he had always maintained that it was just a silly dream, a childish fantasy or fascination, and punished her until she believed it, but he knew it wasn’t true. It was more than a dream. It was prophecy. A few years ago, he never would have believed in prophecy, but in these days of Time magic, it must at least be possible. Then Dreya got ‘married’, if one could call it that, to Catriona, and they seemed happy. Settled. During that time, Prince Travarin had begun to relax, almost forgetting about the prophecy. It couldn’t come true now. There was no reason why it should. Even when he’d heard about the Red and Black Guardians having personal problems, he hadn’t really paid it much attention. But then, as he heard it told, Dreya had, at last, let her mask slip to reveal the true evil within, and Catriona had finally seen her for who and what she was. Consequently, she left and had not been seen at the Black Tower since. That this should happen so close to Midsummer in Zarinda’s twenty-first year could not be a coincidence. The prophecy suddenly made sense: the Black Witch would send out her evil gaze, and her dark sight would fall on the bright, pure goodness of his daughter’s soul. The light of that purity would burn her, and she would take her revenge. He had no doubt anymore: Dreya would come and steal Zarinda. Ruin his plans to increase his status in the courts of the two most important Faery communities in Elvaria. He would not allow it. He would stop her. He had already placed anti-portal wards all over Ainderbury in addition to strengthening his defences against teleportation, but that might not be enough. He needed to act decisively. He’d tried to do it once before, and it had backfired, but he hadn’t understood the power he was dealing with then. Now he did, and he knew how to counter it. It was time to use his gift.