Times keeper 1 a litrpg.., p.19
Time's Keeper 1: A LitRPG Adventure, page 19
Cedric hopped back, joining his friends. The sentinels’ towering forms, made even taller by the channel on which they stood, loomed over the party, their pale shadows painted on them.
“Everyone,” Cedric said, “stand back.”
Walt, Myra, and Arcaeus edged back, their backs pressing against the wall. Cedric, on the other hand, stepped forward. He took a breath, readying himself.
And as the first sentinel raised its foot to step off the channel, Cedric called on his magic. He focused on the hardened steel beneath the sentinels’ feet, willing it backward in time, back to when the molten steel flowed through the center of the room.
[Remaining lifespan: 31 years, 4 months, 19 days, 3 hours, 45 minutes, and 21 seconds. ]
His lifespan whittled before his eyes. Months drained in moments, and not long after, his years trickled down.
The hardened steel remained unchanged.
The steel sentinels at the vanguard planted one foot on the floor, their short march toward Cedric and his friends beginning.
Cedric pushed harder. He raised his left hand, aiming it at the steel horde. In his right, too, Sylver stirred. The white light of Cedric’s magic enveloped the sentient blade, humming around his edge.
“I… I can help,” Sylver said.
The blade lifted itself up in Cedric’s grip, pointing at the feet of the blank-faced army. Cedric felt his magic flow from his body, down Sylver’s shuddering length, and into the hardened steel.
Crack.
A deep amber light bloomed beneath the sentinels. Heat billowed out from the channel, quickly engulfing the room in amber glow.
Sentinels sank, their feet melted by the river of molten steel. They fell over one another, their forms clunking into one another. Their hands reached feebly upward, clawing at the air. As their heads sank into the river of molten steel, their faces became distorted, their emotionless visages twisted.
And after Cedric poured a few years into the feat, only one sentinel remained, half of its form stepping out of the molten mass, only to be dragged back by the fiery tug of the knot of its half-melted comrades.
Cedric cut off his magic, stumbling. His head spun from exertion, and from the now-sweltering heat. He wiped the sweat from his brow. He held Sylver high and shoved the blade’s tip into the sentinel’s chest, pushing it back into the molten mass.
When the blade made contact, the steel twisted and cracked slightly, seemingly cut by the magic lingering around Sylver. The sentinel toppled back into the molten mass, its form consumed by the heat.
Walt and Myra stepped up, their gaze lingering on the molten river before them. The glow painted their faces orange.
“Gods…” Myra murmured.
“Yeah…” Walt added.
“Please, please,” Sylver said boisterously, his voice echoing in the eerily silent chamber. “It was nothing.”
Myra gave a flat look. “As if you helped.”
Cedric glanced down at Sylver. “Actually, he did. I… channeled my magic through him. With him. I don’t think I could’ve handled it without his help.”
That drew Arcaeus’s attention. “Through him?”
Cedric nodded. “It’s like… he’s a part of me.”
Arcaeus furrowed his brow. “Perhaps… Perhaps he is. I thought he’d only siphoned a bit of the Scroll of Time’s power, but it seems he’s siphoned part of you as well. That’s why he’s so… human-like.”
“Another first for magic, I take it?” Cedric held Sylver up, then sheathed him.
Arcaeus nodded. “And far from the last, I’m guessing.”
Cedric nodded at the steel door. “Well, let’s see what awaits us behind there.”
“How?” Walt asked. “Won’t it just send us back to the tunnel entrance?”
Cedric clenched a fist. “I have an idea. I’ll—”
Clink.
The entire party spun simultaneously, their eyes searching for the source of the sudden sound. It didn’t take them long to find it: a limb extended from the molten river, composed of half-melted steel still glowing amber, and planted itself onto the steel floor. Smoke hissed as the hot limb gnawed at the cool steel floor.
Clink. Clink. Two more limbs—a tangled mess of half-melted arms and legs and heads—extended from the molten steel. A mound in the molten steel swelled, a horrifying amalgamation of twisted visages and melted limbs.
It grew larger and larger, looming over Cedric’s party.
The fight wasn’t over.
Chapter 12
The molten beast’s steel form groaned, countless limbs extending toward Cedric and his friends. Spears stuck out from the mass, bent and melted at every angle.
Cedric’s party edged back. The lumbering mass struggled to learn to move its molten body, but it was adapting quickly. Before long, it’d be on them.
Cedric glanced back at the door. “We need to open that door. Now.” He glanced at Walt. “If it teleports us back to the tunnel entrance, all the better.”
Cedric turned and stepped over to the door. He pressed his left hand against the steel. It didn’t respond.
“Only some Maguses had access to the chamber,” Arcaeus said. “I should have access, but…”
He pressed his hand against the steel, but, again, nothing happened.
“It’s not working.”
“We aren’t being sent back, either,” Walt added, hefting his crossbow up.
Cedric drew Sylver and aimed the blade at the steel door. He called on Time Bend, trying to send the door forward in time.
[Remaining lifespan: 31 years, 1 month, 14 days, 13 hours, 5 minutes, and 11 seconds. ]
He succeeded, but the door didn’t change at all.
Sylver, however, rang with magic, his edge illuminated with white light. The light around the blade was distorted, strangely twisted.
An idea formed in Cedric’s mind as he gazed at the blade.
When he’d poked the sentinel with the magically-charged blade, its steel had reacted. The once-impervious steel sentinel had seemed to buckle, on the surface at least, when he’d poked it with Sylver.
Cedric extended Sylver toward the door.
When the blade’s tip made contact, the spot on the door shimmered. The crackling light around Sylver’s edge spilled onto the spot, the steel shifting, like a disturbed puddle. Light crackled, a sharp hiss escaping the door.
Then, a clunk. The steel of the door shifted, earning the attention of Walt and Myra, who looked back at Cedric. Their eyes widened when they saw the door.
“Whatever you’re doing,” Walt said, “keep it up.”
The mass of melted sentinels edged closer, oozing toward them in a hissing, smoking mass. The twisted visages stared out, their mouths gaping as if to moan, though no sound escaped the countless faces.
Cedric pressed Sylver into the door harder. The blade’s tip pierced through the door, the magic emanating from the blade gnawing at the steel like rust. Cedric clutched the blade firmly, dragging it downward.
Light crackled as the steel parted.
The steel folded back, as if peeling away, and revealed the room within, inch by inch. The light of the Scroll bleed from the wound in the door, forcing Cedric’s eyes to a squint.
He felt the Scroll trying to force him back, trying to return him to where he came from. He gritted his teeth and called on his own magic to meet it, fixing himself in time.
Bit by bit, he drove Sylver deeper.
And with a heavy clunk, a hole big enough to step through had been opened. With his free hand, he tugged Walt over and shoved him through the hole in the door, followed by Myra.
Arcaeus skipped behind them, slipping through the hole easily. Finally, as the heat of the molten sentinels began to burn the back of Cedric’s neck, he ducked into the Scroll’s room too, pulling Sylver free.
As he stepped through, the molten sentinels hit the steel door with a bitter hiss. A mass of melted faces pressed against the gap, filling it in.
Thinking quickly, Cedric raised his hand and aimed Time Bend at the molten mass. He jerked it back in time.
The molten steel hardened again, darkening as it tried—and failed—to ooze through the crevice in the door. The disturbing, melted visages settled, lifeless.
All four of them breathed a collective sigh. Cedric, especially, felt a strong relief as the Scroll of Returning stopped trying to force him back, now that they were inside its chamber. Cedric sheathed Sylver.
The chamber was lined with an intricate weaving of steel. Thin lengths were wrapped over one another, like tangled rope. The light emanating from the Scroll reflected on the steel net around them, lending a sparkle to the room. Bits of magical light flitted through the air, too, like dust.
The Scroll of Returning hovered on its platform, endlessly sinking and resetting itself back to a height. The Scroll bobbed up and down, the arcane letters on its ancient paper vibrating gently.
Cedric approached it cautiously, his hand extended. As he neared it, magic arced from the Scroll, zapping at his fingers.
He felt the Scroll push back against him, trying to force him back—a mere echo of the forcefulness he’d felt outside the chamber, however. He channeled his own magic, holding his hand suspended in time, preventing the Scroll from pushing him back.
With a grunt, he cut off his magic and shoved his hand against the Scroll’s repulsion.
The Scroll fought back, repelling him.
His feet slipped, grinding against the steel floor.
Cedric gritted his teeth and used Time Bend to hold himself in place. He slowly forced himself backward in time, which drove him forward, against the Scroll’s force, his own magic locking horns with the Scroll’s.
With a final heave, he shoved himself forward. Flecks of white light sparked over his skin, bits of magic cutting into his hand. His finger inched closer and touched the Scroll.
Resistance ceased the moment his flesh made contact with the Scroll. Instead, it pulled Cedric in.
Arcane letters shot from the magical Scroll, burrowing into Cedric’s flesh. The letters crept up his arm, etching themselves in. Faint, silvery smoke hissed from beneath his leather armor. Cedric winced.
He felt a sudden lurch. His vision blurred, the world shifting around him. Suddenly, the glowing magical light of the Scroll vanished, replaced by the gaping tunnel to the forge room before him.
Before he could react, in a blink, he found himself back in the dimly lit tunnel. In another blink, he felt the warmth of sunlight on his skin and heard the gush of wind hushing through the Whispersilk Woods.
The world was a blur. The Whispersilk Woods became the entry chamber of the ruin, which became the dim tunnel, then the forge room, where a mount of hardening steel sentinels hissed.
The rapid shifting seemed without end: forge room, tunnel, entry chamber, the woods, the Scroll room, even the area just outside Arcaeus’s ruin. Cedric found himself teleporting between them all—every place he’d been recently—uncontrollably as the Scroll of Returning clawed its way into his flesh, into his soul.
And even when his flesh settled and the Scroll’s arcane letters faded, seeping into him, he still teleported around at a dizzying pace.
He was trapped.
His head spun, dizzied by the near-constant motion. Sunlight became shadow became the amber glow of the hardening molten steel. His stomach lurched.
And it wasn’t slowing down.
It was getting faster.
I have to get out of this!
Cedric called on Time Bend, aiming it at himself. The world flashing by him weakened his focus, making it difficult to call on his magic.
But he managed it. He held his magic at hand, willing time to slow its effect on himself.
[Remaining lifespan: 31 years, 1 month, 9 days, 10 hours, 15 minutes, and 10 seconds. ]
And with time slowing, the Scroll of Returning’s effect slowed too. He braced himself for the world to shift around him again, but it didn’t.
Not that he found himself in a much better position. He wasn’t totally frozen, but his body moved at one hundredth the speed. He found himself back in the Scroll’s chamber, his friends at his back. He felt the surge of magic welling inside his body as the Scroll of Returning integrated itself.
His friends rushed around him, concerned.
“What the hells?” Walt asked. “What happened to you?”
“You were flashing in and out of here,” Myra added.
Cedric remained silent, his mouth languidly opening as he tried to speak while still under the effects of Time Bend.
Walt and Myra looked at him, puzzled.
But, after a couple minutes, the surge of magic within him settled—a feeling like a cool breeze on a hot day. His flesh tingled and his stomach was soothed.
He tapered off his magic, still wary that he’d be sent teleporting again. To his relief, though, he remained where he stood.
“Yeah,” Cedric said. “The Scroll sent me back.”
“Back where?” Walt asked.
“Well… everywhere.” Cedric shrugged. “It kept returning me to where we’ve walked. I had to fight it with my magic.”
But as the rest of him settled, his vision stirred.
[Scroll of Returning acquired.
New spell selection required. Would you like to make your selection now?]
Cedric furrowed his brow, staring ahead. Selection?
He’d never had to make a selection before. When he’d gotten Time Bend, and later Temporal Link, the spells had just been given to him, appearing in a list.
“I… I’m being given a choice,” Cedric said to Arcaeus, his eyes still fixed on the shimmering words before him.
“A choice?” Arcaeus quirked an eyebrow.
“A choice between spells,” Cedric explained. “‘New spell selection required’.”
Arcaeus’s eyes went wide. “Your bond with the Scrolls is developing faster than I expected. You’ve grown stronger, so they’re showing you more.” He nodded at Cedric’s pocket. “Check your seal.”
Cedric dug into his pocket and withdrew the small piece of steel. Arcaeus was right. He’d grown stronger, and the Magus’s seal reflected it.
The steel shifted, a thinly embossed crest forming. The words on the front had changed too. Instead of Cedric Blackfell, Apprentice, it read, Cedric Blackfell, Adept.
“Woah,” Myra said, poking her head over his shoulder. “Weird…”
Walt narrowed his eyes at the seal. “What’s… it do?”
Cedric shrugged. “Not much.”
Arcaeus put a hand up. “Yet. Not much yet. In time, who knows what it’ll manifest. That depends on you, and on the choices you make.”
“The spell I choose, you mean?” Cedric asked.
“That, and the other choices you make,” Arcaeus said, a slight tinge of warning in his voice. “Like I said, a seal is tied to your essence, your individual soul. Naturally, it’ll become a reflection of it. Maguses who make choices that darken their soul, find that their seal shares that darkness. Maguses who make noble ones, however, find their seals an extension of that nobility.”
Cedric nodded solemnly, tucking the seal back into his pocket. “Speaking of choices…”
He looked back up, the glowing words still lingering in their air before him.
Yes, he thought. I’ll choose now.
The words shivered before his eyes, flashing into a new arrangement:
[TEMPORAL RETURN
Upon channeling, a return point is set at that particular time. Channel Temporal Return again to return to that point in time.
Limited to three return points in any twenty-four hour period.]
Cedric’s eyes widened. Return to… that point in time? Did this spell allow him to… travel back in time?
The spell was just the first of his options, but it was a strong option. Time Bend and Temporal Link, as powerful as they were, didn’t allow him to affect time itself—just the time of a target object.
He could send an apple backward or forward in time, even control the rate at which it happened, but he couldn’t actually go back in time.
But with Temporal Return, he could. Granted, he’d have to have the foresight to set a return point before he knew he needed it, and he’d have to carefully manage the three-per-day limit.
As tempting as it was to just embrace Temporal Return right now and lock in his choice, he still had another waiting to be considered. He glanced downward, where the other spell shone in the air:
[TIME SIPHON
Reclaim all the lifespan you spent on a living target other than yourself. The target’s lifespan is reduced by the amount reclaimed, and they are returned to the state before they were affected by your magic.]
Cedric furrowed his brow. Reclaim his lifespan? The thought was immediately tempting, but the second bit of the spell gave him pause.
If he was reading it right, if he healed Walt with Time Bend then took his lifespan back with Time Siphon, Walt’s wound would reopen.
But that wasn’t the only use for Time Siphon. He could accelerate one of his comrades, and if they were injured, return them to their uninjured state—and reclaim a chunk of lifespan at the same time.
Cedric narrowed his eyes at the spell again. All the lifespan… he considered again.
His eyes went wide. Time Siphon didn’t let him pick and choose. If he used it on one of his friends, it’d return them to how they were before he’d used any of his magic on them.
In Walt’s and Myra’s case, that’d return them back to before he’d undone the effects of the guardian in Arcaeus’s ruin.
If he used Time Siphon on Walt or Myra, they’d be reduced to aged bones.
Cedric shook his head. Time Siphon seemed too risky. While he could already see uses for it, he could see the danger lurking in it.
