Time Eats All His Children in the End

[Finn]

All Finn's attempts to build bridges only seemed to set them alight. He eyed Destynrael sadly, hoping his clan had not fallen victim to Zaichaeri death squads or similar in this timeline.

"I knew a few Fae'ethalan before I journeyed to Solunarium," he informed Phædreon quietly. "The Vigilia Argenti did not require that I learn Ecitharese." But, other than that, he fell silent. He did maintain his grip upon Varvara's instrument, lest a need for it arise quickly. Let them see Her argent gift in his hand if they marked him for His golden crown that sometimes graced his brow.

His eyes were everywhere as they traveled, however, gathering as much context as he could to support an understanding of this reality. With some frequency, he checked upon his men, attempting to maintain his aplomb lest they lose faith in his leadership. Cohesion would be necessary to weather these time storms.

Rather than a volcano, this reality had a tree that reminded him of myths from the Age of Dreams and a World Tree.

Finn from before would not have hesitated to kneel. This Finn, however, had more steel in his spine and gold, as well. He should have bent the knee, if only to appease these people and protect his men, but he found that he could not, whether because of his God's influence or his own growing sense of self.

He bowed, just as respectfully as he would to any regnant monarch, but he was not a slave.

His smile was radiant, if not Radiant, and his voice was a song though he was not singing. He could feel the silver in his hands resonating with every word, every sound. He did not want a battle of wills here, nor a battle of steel. They were entirely outnumbered, and if their position became untenable, he had to hope that Phædreon would take them elsewhere or elsewhen. Perhaps they had given him enough context to track their quarry closer to where she had gone to ground.

"Greetings, Your Blazing Brilliance. We seem to have trespassed all unknowing upon your lands, but all the roads we've had to walk were winding, and all the lights that led the way were blinding. There are many things that I would like to say to you, but I don't know how..."

Or, rather, he knew how, but not how to couch those words such that they got what they needed and didn't cause undue damage to this reality.

"All my best intentions and attempts to explain myself have only served to anger these our guides as we find ourselves strangers in a land strange to us."

[Pharaoh]

"You are a surprising man, Finn Farstrider, and that is coming from me." Phædreon replied, before a jab to his ribs silenced him for the bulk of the pursuant trek. The chronomancer's silence was marked by restless tics and mercurial attentions cast to different details of their surroundings. He would often start to list in the direction of something that intrigued him and need to be prodded back onto the path. Arkænyn, meanwhile, just seemed increasingly annoyed and then angered by the circumstance. He'd been permitted to keep his weapon, but it remained sheathed while the locals brandished theirs in his direction for the entirety of the trip.

The Fæ and the two Orkhan women remained without, as Arvain led the prisoners through the roots of the tree. There were more than enough armed Orkhan attending the bio-palace that their presence was superfluous, and they seemed more than happy to go about their days without further concern for them that had interrupted their hunt and redirected their priorities.

When Finn declined to kneel, the others in his party, who had been about to, hesitated. Phædreon checked around him for spears of encouragement and, finding none, executed a similar bow to that Finn had delivered. Arkænyn's was more of a nod of acknowledgement. This refusal seemed to incense Arvain, who gritted his teeth and began to speak, but his voice was halted by a mild gesture from the placid Ecithian emperor, whose violet eyes were fixed upon Arkænyn alone.

"Strange." Alcinæus said in Vallenor, after Finn was finished speaking, though his attention remained most intent upon Arkænyn, who seemed uncomfortable with the intensity of the stare. "You, a human, speaking on behalf of one of Thalya's dread twins... and which one are you, boy? Arkænyn or Arkædryn?" The revelation that he'd just brought one of Thalya's heirs to his grandsire's throne seemed to shock Arvain who seemed to make no effort to conceal his emotions in general.

"I..." The Platinum Prince looked to Finn, confusedly, but before he could answer Alcinæus spoke on as if in answer to his hesitation.

"Arkænyn, I presume, then. The spare. And you, brazen one..." The Imperator looked to Finn, at last. "You who have escaped the northron yoke and brought the blood of mine archenemy to my doorstep... Rather than seeking a reward, you are claiming 'twas a mistake?" He tipped his head back, chuckling. "I certainly ken why Prince Arvain appears so perplexed. But come, before I Semble you all to the full extent of my formidable power, I invite you to fill in the blanks you are clearly omitting and explain yourselves more thoroughly. If you know anything about me, you will know that being coy and cagey will not serve you here."

[Finn]

"I have been called a Herald of Hubris," he said wryly, eyes flicking briefly to Arvain Princeps and back. Said in Vallenor, he was able to imply that the Hubris was his rather than Arkænyn's. "And I apologize for mine ignorance, but I know nothing of you, Sire."

Knowing that they would be unable to prevent this imperator from stripping away their protections and sembling them, he gave a succinct, somewhat reductive version of the truth.

"Surely you will semble the veracity of my claims in due course. We hail from another reality seeking a fugitive Thalya from our own who has likely gone to ground here. In our reality, this great tree does not exist, but rather a volcanic dragonhome. And yet," his eyes flicked again to Arvain, "there are familiar faces lacking all familiarity otherwise. We seek no harm to you or yours, merely free passage to follow our quarry. She made a mess of things in her wake, and we would prevent her from doing the same here, leaving your demesne and subjects as we found them.

"I am anomalous there, too. As are my compatriots. For me, the quest is personal. When she attempted a coup for more control beyond her queendom, she attempted an assassination of her own platinum blood, but also that of my husband, an Arvælyn Princeps."

This time, he didn't look at Arvain. It was a strange knife in the guts to have his husband's seeming look upon him without recognition, let alone love that had transcended continents, races, and divine trials.

"In our reality, Aværys-once-Streleon and Varvara-once-Ugrimal are the Divine Twins of Solunarium and the Atraxian Expanse. I am one of His Radiant, and my husband is one of Her Tethered. I understand my existence is blasphemy here, but I do not seek to subvert your religion, merely bring her back in silver chains to face judgment for her attempt on the life of that Tethered."

[Pharaoh]

Alcinæus was inclined to allow the human to speak at length uninterrupted to determine whether he was guest, prisoner or something else altogether. Arvain seemed hot-headed and impatient, a force of nature who had not the humbling upbringing of Arvine Venasyr.

Phædreon was now quite attentive to the court of this realm’s emperor. He was not familiar with this reality and was eager to learn the origins of those peculiarities that distinguished it from the Prime Timeline.

Arkænyn’s demeanour mirrored Arvain’s, after a fashion, though where the latter paced and circled like a tiger, the former was still and focused as a cobra waiting to strike.

Alcinæus was calm and austere after a fashion Finn might expect from one of his ilk in their Solunarium. As Finn spoke, his cool gaze brightened as witchmarks glowed to life upon his fair flesh. There was nothing felt as he made his appraisal, it was as subtle as Cithæra’s own scans and ended with a great deal of focus upon the instrument Finn elected to keep in his grasp.

“A Gift from Her to the Herald of Him. Then, the Battle of the Rending never created the Schism for you…” The realisation cast a sad, wistful pall over the visage of the imperator. This perked Phædreon’s attention.

“We had a Rending, Blazing Brilliance, but what is this Schism of which you speak?” The Time Mage inquired.

“When the conquest of Ailizane was complete, the Hunger of Aværys was not sated. He was not content to rule with another and sought to subjugate his Sacred Sister. The battle that ensued forced the subjects of the empire to pick a side… The Battle of the Rending pitted brother against brother, sister against sister and resulted in the Schism. Ailizane for Aværys, Ecith for Varværa. But even now, the agents of the Arrogant One scheme to wrest power from us. My grandson took you for His agents, but I see the veracity in your words… strange though they be. But perhaps there is opportunity yet to be mined from this meeting. You, human. I take it you are the leader. How are you called and how do you seek to execute your aims in a world about which you clearly know so little.”

[Finn]

Good, he thought. Yes.

Phædreon was mining the conversation for more context and, given he had more than Finn did as their bridge over troubled times, that was all for the best. And Arkænyn, at least, had his temper leashed. The Arkænyn before the fall would have been dangerous to have here and now. He didn't require Finn enforce his leadership, and that was better for an actual working relationship.

He would have to ask Phocion about his sentinel blacks and their counterintelligence measures if this Imperator could see through them. But he was, at least, reasonable. Finn could work with reasonable.

Finn, if anything, felt sad for the brief history lesson. He hated the idea of his homeland conquered by anyone, even Solunarium. And he also hated the idea of enmity between his God and His Sister. Their balance was becoming a foundational notion for him.

"It pains me to know this version of history, Sire. In our realm, we are loosely paired, Radiant and Tethered, my husband and I, the Pontifex and his cousin, a leader of the Vigilia Argenti. I too am a Sentinel, and perhaps anomalous again in one of His chosen among the ranks of Her branch of the government. Being anomalous, I am still finding my place upon the Pyramid, and certainly my companions might outrank me in other circumstances, but for the purposes of this endeavor, I have the honor of leading.

"When she fled our reality, His Resplendence, Phædreon Phædryn-Sol'Aværys Archidux, had the power and knowledge to open the way for me. His Starlit Highness, Hyperion Arkænyn Princeps, having his own personal stakes, offered his skills to the endeavor, for which I am grateful. I was born merely Finn, the son of a blacksmith in a village on Lake Udori, near Kalzasi. Kalzasi is a city-state unto itself, and it was via a Solunarian diplomat that my vector toward the Atraxian Imperium came to me. What honors I am accorded are a combination of the regards of one God, one Prince, and my own merits. And so... I am still learning where I stand in the grand scheme of things. At the feet of Deus Meus, I have learned to follow my Ambition, but to bow to greater Power even as He bows to Holy Eikæn.

"As for Thalya Derelicta, if she be not here, then we must seek her in Ailizane. She might seek to supplant her other self. If she succeeds, her gaze would inevitably turn southward. Her hunger was not sated by a single throne in our reality."

He did glance from one side to the other, at prince and archduke, for further elaboration. The son knew her better, and the elder knew more in general. Finn was their leader, but he used each according to their skill and knowledge.

[Pharaoh]

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"It pains us all..." Alcinæus conceded, grimly, and raised a graceful hand which elicited growth in the vines winding about his living throne. A supplemental seat formed at his side and, at a sharp glance from his grandsire, Arvain reluctantly obliged to be seated and still. He leaned forward, one arm on his knee the other toying with strands of white hair that hung to frame his face.

The Imperator seemed to receive word of the alternate reality with interest, perhaps pleased he didn't have to ask for it when it was offered freely. The roots at the walls shifted, then, winding across the room to form the approximation of a bench for the prisoners-cum-guests to be seated.

At the mention of his name, Phædreon executed a flourishing bow, smirking contentedly at the circumstances having shifted away from being prodded by aggressive Orks toward an exchange of fascinating information. Arkænyn grunted acknowledgement at being introduced properly and took a seat unceremoniously, his long legs bent a bit awkwardly due to how low the bench had settled.

"My 'personal stakes', as he puts it, lie with the fact that my mother made an attempt on my life. Worry not that I hold any allegiance to your Thalya or mine."

"We must be clear, Blazing Brilliance, that we are not the least bit certain that our quarry is in your universe. With the help of my companions, I have been able to narrow the options down to a few timelines, but... Well, you see, you asked after an Arkænyn, which we have, and an.... what was it? Arkædryn? Which we do not. The Thalya from our corner of the multiverse, you see, coopted a pair of twins from another branch of the timeline and brought them into her service in ours. It was determined that these were twins and not two separate versions of the same prince, unless you subscribe to the believe that identical twins are..." He looked to Finn, "I'm doing it again, aren't I? Annnyway, I did us the boon of backtracking in time a bit, so the Variant Arkænyn and Arkædryn... Shall we just call them Arkies?"

"Please don't..." The Platinum Prince sighed.

"The Variant Arkies haven't left to attack Finn's spouse nor our Arky's person. Would you happen to know where we might find one or both of these twins at the present moment?"

"They rarely leave the provinces they govern, so you might seek them there. Arkænyn rules the West from his seat at Sol'Grandal, and Arkædryn rules the East from Aværinor."

"Fuck me..." Arkænyn muttered, "I was born to the wrong fucking Thalya." A sentiment which earned a sharp, venomous glare from Arvain, who retorted:

"If you find either twin or any version of their blighted mother, do us a favour and break the unbroken line once and for all." A suggestion which Alcinæus did not contradict.

"You will forgive the bold tongue of youth, but I believe my grandson recognises the opportunity you present. We've none in our service capable of shifting between... versions of worlds. Had I not Sembled the truth of it, I would scarcely believe such a thing existed. If your Thalya has shared such knowledge with ours, we might find ourselves at a great disadvantage very quickly. So... how might we help you do what you need to do?"

[Finn]

Thank the Gods, they were communicating now. As much as Finn had trained to fight since he had fallen victim to Zaichaeri thugs, he much preferred diplomacy. He sat upon the bench with Arkænyn, and returned Varvara's instrument to its case upon his back.

"Thank you, sire," he said sincerely. "Here I must defer to the Archidux. Phædreon, I presume that if we get you close enough to this world's Arkænyn or Thalya, you can ascertain whether this reality holds too much of... them?"

For all the theory he had crammed into his mind, the rules of chronomancy involved a great deal of guesswork depending on what branch of the timeline one followed. He hadn't seen a dark mirror of himself, but he didn't know if his presence pushed the other out of time or if two of them existed here and a potential paradox might happen if they came too close to one another or if there was or ever had been a Finn here.

"If physical proximity will allow you to search for our benighted version and this reality's circumstances aren't too altered from our own, I can open a portal to various places. Not Sol'Grandal, but certainly Kalzasi or Dalquor or Aur'arnis. Or even Mount Kaladon..." He paused. "Mount Kaladon is where Arvælyn and I faced the Divine Twins. Perhaps we ought to avoid it. Deus Aværys might seek to turn me against our new friends and I would not be used so, not even by a version of my divine patron."

Finn frowned. There was much he would lay at that altar, but he would not sacrifice allies upon it—not this version of his best beloved who knew him not nor his wise grandsire.

[Pharaoh]

"Something like that. If you think of Fate as a tapestry woven of Destiny's strands, I am able to ascertain where the work of another weaver has come into play. Thalya, being new and rather inexperienced, is likely to have faulty stitching. From where we stand- er sit, I can't see anything that has been manipulated by a chronomancer. If she has had a weirding hand in weaving this world's ways, the effects have not reached this region at this point in the timeline. In future, perhaps, but... Yes, I think we ought to travel to their demesne. Your Brilliance, pray tell, where does Thalya herself reside?"

"Kalædium." Alcinæus replied simply.

"Ah. Yes. If the geography aligns roughly with that of our own, then we will likely find her in what is known to you as Oelivert in Atinaw." Phædreon explained, and Finn might infer that this deduction derived from Kalædium having been the name of the first Solunarian colony on the Northern continent, which was in that region. It stood to reason that it may have become capital of Ailizane when it split off from Ecith.

"Yes, yes. Portalling between places is pivotal to what I do as well. Space and time are interwoven. You have no idea how many instances I've had to think quickly and blip out of mid-air or vanish from the pyre the moment I felt the fire's lick... But there is something else you should know. Our cells, our very atomies are confused here. They seek the familiar... the superposition. The ley lines, er... slip space is not the same in different realities, but our wily minds will trick us into finding routes we did not intend toward... facsimiles." Phædreon said, with a pointed glance to Arvain. "And then there is the question of where we should try to seek her influence. It is strange she would not have touched this place, as it sits on the site of her captial..."

"Auris." Arkænyn piped up. "This was the site of her capital, but she quit it for Auris. She learned time magic in Auris. If she side-stepped from our world to this one, she did so in..." He looked to Finn, with an arched brow, "Kaladon."

"Kaladon, again." Arvain knitted his brow, "What is your obsession with Kaladon? Is the grave of Arcas and Raxen so important in your world?"

[Finn]

Finn nodded, trying to take into account what Phædreon said and how he might apply it to what he did. Perhaps in an emergency, he might vault and his Rune would take him to Arvain because he looked enough like Arvælyn that his magic would interpret the fiery, feisty prince as home and safety and happiness. Now that Arvain's grandfather seemed to be on their side, that might not be terrible, but Arvain's side might not be where they needed to be in an emergency.

"Kalædium," he murmured to himself, attempting to rewrite his mental map of Atinaw.

He glanced at Arvain, finding himself compelled to answer his better half's other self.

"In our world," he said, pitched a touch soft, inviting ears to listen, audiences to lean forward, "Kaladon was the prison of the Divine Twins for quite a long time. Hence, Arvælyn and I made a pilgrimage to the caldera to answer Their call, to face Their test, and to earn Their favor. A foreign prison as the borders of Their realm no longer extended beyond the continent of Ecith." He considered. "Kalædium by way of Kaladon, then?"

He glanced from Phædreon to Arkænyn. They were quite different people, with different strengths and weaknesses, and he had to manage both of their states. They were a unit, brothers-in-time. Perhaps Phædreon had the training and the frame of mind to adapt to any given timeline, but he and Arkænyn were only here following vengeance. Phædreon's presence was necessary, but Finn didn't know if he would ever catch his drift. If they survived this, if the hint of thralldom didn't sour things, they might accomplish a great many things together. Finn seemed to be a partner crafted for any number of Solunarian potentates, his husband only being the first.

Vengeance.

Finn perked.

Khyan, he called along the line of his emblem, his oaths of fealty. Has the mighty Bottom of Vengeance followed me to this reality?

[Pharaoh]

Arvain just blinked at length after Finn explained the version of events that distinguished his world from theirs. Finally, he just incredulously blurted out:

"What?" And looked to his grandsire, who simply shook his head.

Arkænyn sighed, and looked to Finn.

"I've got this." Turning his attention to Arvain, he replied:

"In your reality, the Founders won the conquest wars and, after winning, went to war with each other. In our reality, the Founders lost the battle at Kaladon and were cast down into the mountain by Arcas and imprisoned for millennia. They only recently reemerged and they're still on the same side."

"Oh." Arvain pursed his lips and settled back into his seat.

"Sounds like a plan to me!" Phædreon shrugged, "Did you want to test out your Traversion abilities in this timeline? The researcher in me would be most intrigued to bear witness to the results, dangerous though the endeavour might be."

As Finn's Emblem began to glow, Alcinæus shifted uncomfortably in his throne and Arvain averted his eyes. There was no immediate response to the summons, though that was not unusual. Traversing the Void was no facile thing. By and by, he would sense something: Confusion.

...who are you? What do you want?

The voice in Finn's mind was Khyan's, as he'd been in life. Phædreon placed a hand on Finn's shoulder.

"What are you doing, Viator?" He inquired softly. On the daïs looming before them, Alcinæus leaned in to confer quietly with his grandson and Arkænyn cocked an eyebrow at Finn's side and looked sidelong at the other two members of his present adventuring party, at a loss.

"Are we leaving or what?"