"So, Finley, let me buy you a drink, I want to thank you for what you have done!" The drunkard laughed and threw an arm around the now called Finley, leading him to the bar. "Oh, I don't drink, sir, but thank you anyways-" before he could finish his sentence, the drunkard laughed once again, "Don't worry kid, I know you don't, still let me buy you a coffee, tea, anything. The names Warlock, by the way. Of the Niall Syndicate" Hesitantly, Finley nods, accepting their offer. For once, he feels as if he is comfortable, an almost unimaginable feeling for what has happened so far. They talk for a few hours, getting to know each other better. Finley tells him of the sun monument he is supposed to reach for a family tradition. "Of course, friend, I can escort you! I have a carrier arriving soon, we can get in and relax until we get there. Sadly it's a long ride, but there's a very gorgeous view on the way. Free of charge, just cruise with us on the solar rails, there'll be food, drink, and really anything. Let me repay you for getting me out of trouble with them." Warlock was warm, funny, caring. A warmth he'd never seen since Davin, a warmth that he couldn't tell if it burnt more than comforted him. They agreed to meet the next day at half a standard rotation. As he was buying room at the barkeep, he heard his own voice, a bit darker, and a bit lower. "Making friends already? Moving on a little fast, huh?" The brand burned more with each word that was spoken. Everything around them froze. "Who are you? Someone playing a practical joke? Or just a curse too insufferable to bear?" Finley asked, pain and anger in his voice. "Oh, no, impossible, I am the literal manifestation of your hate, anger, power… time. I am you, just without the boring bits." As the clone spoke, the brand burned with each word, but before Finley could speak again, his inferior reflection put a hand on his shoulder. "Oh and, just make the right decisions, don't go through this multiple times." And as soon as his words ended, time started again, but instead of his inaccurate re-imagining of himself with his hand on his shoulder, it was a woman's. "Are you okay? You are a few Craits short there, want me to pay the rest?" The woman spoke with a slight accent, a deeper voice but not underworld low, one that just shows age. She looked about early, to mid 20's. Before Finley could answer, the woman already paid the rest of the fee and started walking away. "Don't worry about it, my name's Empire, I'll be here tomorrow, then we will talk." The woman walked away with a slight sway in her hips. Finley just sat there, pondering what happened. A weird feeling in his chest started rising. Infatuation? A curse? It could be just as likely an attack from one of his pursuers. No matter what he thought it was, he felt it, and it was unfamiliar. It almost hurt in a way. He stared at her as she walked away, a small tint of red growing on his cheeks. A small whistle escapes his lips. "Thats one fine lass, now isn't she…" he whispers under his breath. He snaps back to reality, and heads to his room for the night, wanting a very deserved rest after all that has happened. He sits on his bed, going through all the new people and information he has come across. As he processes this, he takes his slender blade, and sharpens it with a whetstone that has been passed down through his family. All he really knows is that it's from his fathers side of the family. It's almost ironic, you know? Sharpening his blade with something of his fathers own hatred. It almost empowered him. After sharpening his blade, he lays the sword on a cloth, and takes a final moment to comprehend everything, and finalize his thoughts. He was going to fight. He was going to fight for himself, and fight for his own reasons. He finally laid himself down, drifting to sleep, sleeping unknowingly to his future.
3 Eons Ago
"Summer, go to your room, you're grounded. Again. For the fourth time." Gavyn said, annoyed. "But why?! I didn't do anything, plus you're not my dad!" Summer protested, clearly annoyed at him. "That's the thing! I'm your husband! This is the third time you have been kidnapped this month!" Gavyn sighs. "You can't be this trusting of people. especially not in your situation where everyone except the people in this city want you gone, And even at that, there's a lot of people that still want you gone that are inside the city!" He nearly said on the verge of leaving. "I know that you are a good person, and I get that , trust me, I understand. But not everyone wants to be good, or has good intentions. I suggest being a bit more cautious, ok? I wouldn't want baby Dalhila in your belly there to get hurt, or worse" There was a silence, and it hurt, nearly deafened them. "I just want the best for people, because I never got that." Summers voice goes to a near invisible whisper, hurt in her voice present. "But you have it now, you have your father, cousin, doctor, the little children, my little baby girl, and your mother! Even if at first she wasn't, hm, how do I say this, supportive of our relationship, or baby. Or just me existing. Still, you have these good people in your life now. I am here for now. We only have a week until we get the verdict on my condition, but no matter what, even if I pass away, I will always be here with you in heart. Now, go and get some rest, you are definitely going to need it very soon, my love."
Back To Present, an hour before the ride
Finley waited at the bar in the early morning, waiting for the woman to arrive. The twin-suns rising in the sky, pulling a warm heat on his face. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, taking in the warmth. "Didn't expect you to show up," Finley said, still taking in the warmth. "What? Thought I was one of those late night hallucinations?" The woman's voice echoes through the room, her footsteps now prominent now that she was caught. "No, in fact you seem more like an enemy than you are a friend or a hallucination. Maybe a threat, maybe not. Depends what you do now." Finley finally opens his eyes, the colors making an instant image in her mind, eyes to remember. "Well then, you have the stage, speak." Finley rushes her to find her words. "Fine then, if you don't want the pleasantries, I'll get on with it. I need your help with something, it actually goes with your destination, the sun monument, I need you to bring me a medallion that should be on the monument, and if you do, I'll pay you a substantial fee, along with some extra if you don't get caug-" Finley stopped her, putting his hand up,"I don't steal, not for you, not for anybody, do not ask me to do that." He nearly yells, already starting to walk out the room, "Ah, but what if I said I know where your mother is? I'm sure that she'd be happy with your friend in the afterlife, correct?" FInley stopped. What? How does she know- has she been following me? Was I too careless to notice her presence? Or was I just too naive to think of her as a threat? "Oh ,give it a rest, dear, I only jest! Is that what you'd want me to say? To only say that I was joking just so you could feel better? Or do you thrive on the violence, thrive on the pleasure of being scared?" She mocked him, she threw back her head in laughter, "A small touch on your arm, and a sweet voice already got you wrapped around my hand, what will it be next? Maybe a soft promise of life together, or if my idea was right that you thrive of violence, a promise of a duel? Lord, I wish you could see your face right now, it is downright hilarious!" She continued to mock. Right then, as Cordwyn's anger almost took him over, Warlock walked in, making them both pause, "Hey buddy, you're already here! Is this a lady friend?" He said, oblivious to the current situation, "No, just a waitress making sure I have paid, we can go now." And so, Finley started walking to the door to leave. "Oh, well, see you, Lady." And they both walked out the building. On the way to the starship, Warlock gets tired of the silence, "So, where are you from?" Warlock asked, trying to break the awkward aura around them. "A place far from here. Hel-Zepulcher." The only truth he has said so far to him. Maybe one day he will be truthful with him, or even himself. Atleast, he hopes he can one day.