"Ahh… Finally." The high elf softly said as he calmly walked towards the caravan, towards the fifth carriage.
The falling leaves in front of him soon slow, yet the elf's step keeps a normal pace, not just the leaves themselves but all of his surroundings. Then, when he was only an inch on the leaves— blink your eyes, and already he was three meters near the caravan.
"There you are." The elf half kneels at the front wheel. "Oh, Azageis, how long have we been doing this?" He continues, removing the axle's cap, revealing a tennis-ball-like object wrapped in bronze fabric.
Upon retrieving the item, the elf felt a presence on his back; it was Lavrish's duplicate. Surprised, not by her presence alone but by something far deeper, something that belongs to the past.
"Such a long time, Lady Verendrith." The elf gave a slight bow. "How have you been?"
To Lavrish, her teasing and alluring expression shifted to an abhorrent look at the elf.
Sending a message to her original, Lavrish, who was still tracking Natalak, quickly teleported to her duplicate, simultaneously merging the two.
In another place…
"I shouldn't have trusted that dick head bystander." Ponders Natalak, as he dashes to who knows what place his legs are sending him.
Covering more than thirty meters, the traveller finds himself in a forest clearing. He looks back and senses there is no presence or sound of footsteps. He thought he was safe; he thought the goddess of fortune smiled at his life—but when Natalak shifted his sight forward, he saw the three cults marching in his direction.
He turns and runs again, hoping an adventurer might find him. Unfortunately, his escape was sealed; he took another thirty steps and ended up back in the same clearing. Now, the men are halfway to their original position.
Cornered and with no items to counter their magic, Natalak unstrapped the black book and tossed it forward, just three meters, leaving the three men rather confused. But when they look at Natalak's dreadful expression, their eyebrows lift in amusement. He can't even blink as he frozenly glares at them.
Curious about the book, one of the cultists gazes down—a trap, a trick, or perhaps an attempt to frighten them. Either way, the men were not confident fools, as two of the cultists conjured a strange blue fireball, while the other conjured an electric current. A closer look revealed how their magic was made.
A glowing ember of dust first emerges from their body and skin, then slowly pulls towards their palm, creating the spell. Without hesitation, the two fire their magic, not at Natalak but towards the book. And from their action, they sealed their fate as the book devoured their magic. Combined with the leftover energy from the past skirmishes, the Book of Amarah once again unshackles. And the entity that either sealed or lingers at that book rupture, seeking a host, but not before it delivers a shockwave that launches all the men, including Natalak.
Quick to recover, Natalak was groaning and crawling away from that area. He turned and saw a black mist emerging from the book. Alive and moving, it seeks the nearest host it can possess. But when it senses the abyssal markings from the three, it turns its interest towards Natalak.
"Shit-shit-shit!" Natalak muttered, trying his best to outrun the entity. Nonetheless, it was far too fast to flee from its speed.
It seizes his feet first, then slowly makes its way towards his whole body, until Natalak's body is no more, replaced by something ancient. Likewise, when the entity stood, it could already tell that the place they've stood was a dimensional trap.
"My… my… such a trifling dimension." The entity spoke.
He stretched his arms, palms open, forming a white energy cube. He didn't toss; he didn't crush it with his hand; instead, he freely dropped it to the ground. And when the cube made contact with the ground, somehow the surroundings shattered like a mirror, revealing that Natalak was trapped in a dimensional spell.
Shifting its attention to the three cults, the entity lost interest in their presence. Their magical poise, amplified by abyssal influence, was far too childish for the entity to wrangle.
"Puny dogs." The entity scoffed, giving a disgusted look at their demonic markings.
Maddened by the entity's ridicule, the three men prompt their abyssal marking, causing their skin to crack in embers. Their eyes, replaced by glowing lava—their voice now echoes a secondary demonic tone. Still, the entity wasn't pleased by their transformation.
"Block his escape." One of the followers of Agum's command, the one in the centre.
Not a spoken word, the two kneel as they place their palms on the ground. What followed was a purple shockwave that blasted through the surroundings, creating a rift of many colours and sealing the area from any form of teleportation or escape.
To the one in the centre, the man's hand emits a toxic radiation, withering the grass and the trees, and sucks every living thing in the surrounding area. Without any warning, he rams his hand on the ground, releasing a vile of thick green mist roaring towards the entity. It was then that they saw the mist suddenly slow down. And the very thought that came to their mind was—
"The Muddle of Time!"
On the other hand—
Three miles away from Natalak, the elf and Lavrish suddenly felt time was being slowed. The falling leaves were slackening, but neither of them was being slowed. Consequently, time slowed; time was now paused as the falling leaves stopped and everything around them did. Except for the elf—Lavrish, however, was not entirely immune to the Divergence of Time; rather, her movement was slowed.
Seeing her shackled and slowed, the elf gave a slight, warm smile, almost as if teasing her. Contrarily, Lavrish didn't much take the elf's playful expression. Instead, she unearths something ancient in her soul.
Altering—Lavrish's eyes turn golden like a dragon's eye. Parts of her skin blistered in scales similar to a dragon's. The Divergence of Time that once fettered her movements disappeared as she is now fully immune.
Sensing an impending contest, the elf sighs. "Perhaps it would be another time, Lady Verendrith. For I have something else to do." The elf said before glaring towards Natalak's direction.
"I won't let you get away!" Lavrish exclaimed, creating a barrier. Alas, the elf's body turns transparent and quickly dissolves into thin air.
Once the high elf departed, the tense atmosphere subsided. Though it took more than a minute for The Divergence of Time to instantly fade.
Parting from the caravan, Lavrish again split herself once she had reverted to her normal appearance. And when we return towards Natalak—
"AZAGEIS! — YOU, BASTARD!" The entity shouts as it struggles, thrashing, clawing at Natalak's chest as the golden light begins to drive the entity out of his body, turning it back into the book.
Behind the man were the bodies of the cultists. Flesh and apparel were all burned, dried as if all their fluid were stripped away. And while Natalak slowly seizes his essence, their bodies wither, leaving no ash pile.
Simultaneously, before the entity could be stripped away, it gave one final warning—
"Know this, mortal, for if I get another chance. I won't come for you; I shall drag you to me."
Amidst the return of Natalak's soul, he had no memories of what had happened. All he remembers is his vision fading. Somehow, the sudden return of his soul felt uncomfortable, like being strapped into a human centrifuge.
His flesh feels limp, as if it has no bones, and dizziness overwhelms his head. His stomach also feels foul, like it's being churned, causing Natalak to vomit.
"Fuck me," Natalak muttered while still hurling dark red liquid. "Fuck me."
Natalak took over a minute to stop retching, yet his insides still felt revolting—he wanted to vomit again, but there was nothing left. He could only manage watery eyes, a runny nose, and gasping for air as he waited for a slow recovery. And while searching for a comfortable position to ease his condition, Natalak concluded that the caravan may perhaps already have left without him.
"Now what?" Natalak murmured, gathering his things and tossing the black book into the bag, before dragging himself to a tree.
"I think I'll sit here for a while… dang, what have I gotten myself into?" Natalak said, cleaning the leftover barf. "I hope this bile of mine should keep away monsters." He adds, spitting.
He looks up above and ponders his situation, sometimes sniggering at the road he'd choose. Tired and weary mind, he wanted to sleep, to rest his thoughts, but the fear of a monster pouncing at him in his slumber said otherwise. And so, Natalak tried to stay half-awake, and for less than half an hour, a lady approached—a lady in robes—it was Lavrish.
Upon seeing Natalak, Lavrish triggered the time divergence. It was there she paused her track, observing Natalak to see if he could make the slightest move. But after sensing that her life begins to be devoured by the time divergence, Lavrish steps closer before time resumes.
On the other hand, in the eyes of Natalak, even without blinking, Lavrish seems to have just teleported right in front of him.
"Natalak was it?" Lavrish asked, and Natalak nodded in response. "Here, drink this. This should heal your condition." She adds, offering Natalak an ornamented vial.
"Um, you're not a monster in disguise, are you?" Natalak respond, with eyes showing anxiety.
Lavrish smiles; rather than responding with a word, she slowly leans closer until their bodies enfold. Natalak tries to push her aside, but his body and arms are too weak to take action.
"Why don't we address your wariness?" Lavrish whispered enticingly near Natalak's ear. "We still have plenty of time before the caravan moves on." She then took his right hand and placed it on her waist.
Confused, teased, flustered— her posture, her movements, her aphrodisiac scent and her warm breath brushing at his neck and ears offer Natalak a tempting choice.
"Your fever is getting warmer, Natalak," teased Lavrish after noticing his body heat increasing.
Following her words, Lavrish's cloak begins to strip itself, almost as if it has a mind of its own. Just then, Natalak saw a person who seemed to be searching for something.
"Adventurer?" Natalak ponders, and suddenly his desire for the flesh is quickly overturned by the empathy of embarrassment—of getting caught in the act.
"I-I'll take the potion, madam," Natalak said. "Someone is coming."
Respecting the man's appeal, Lavrish gave one playful smile before pulling herself. The fallen cloak quickly comes to life, automatically mantling the archsage. Even her witch-like hat lifts itself and stands close to the sorcerer.
Lifting her right hand, one of her golden bracelets melts like water, forming into a flamboyant long pipe. And with a single tap of her fingers, she kindles the herbs.
As for the traveller, Natalak took a slight gulp of the vial, still uncertain about the lady sorcerer's gift. By contrast, when the figure that Natalak saw was Sir Lucas, there was a sudden recovery of his condition. Natalak then slowly drinks the whole vial, restoring his weary muscles and his ailing stomach.
"I see you've found him, Madam Lavrish," Lucas said, sheathing his weapon. "You didn't tell me you were someone trained in combat." The paladin continues right after noticing Natalak's armour.
"Well, you didn't ask." Natalak respond.
The two men frantically paused for a moment, each contemplating what to say, until—
"Excuse me for interrupting your conversation, gentlemen. But the caravan is waiting." Lavrish voiced, showing a decorated scroll levitating on her palm.
Silently, the two nodded, and soon they were teleported to the caravan. And this time, Natalak was placed right where Lavrish was stationed, the very centre of the caravan. Providentially, the merchandise only consumed half of the wagon's space, allowing ten people to fill the sides. Though only Lavish and Natalak occupied the space.
After crossing a mile and encountering no ambush, Natalak's drowsiness begins to take turns. He tried to fight it off, but the tiredness was too much for his fortitude.
"Was it the potion?" Natalak shook his head, but after less than ten minutes of continuous head jerking, he fell asleep in a sitting position.
After a while…
When he woke up, he realised he was sleeping on the floorboard, and to his surprise, Lavrish was gone. The only thing she left was her cloak, which he used as a pillow. Moreover, it was after dusk, and he could hear the distant crackle of fire, the lingering sounds of the people, and the smell of food, the smell of meat being seared.
"Did she?" Natalak whispered as he stuffed his bag.
Mortified—Natalak was unsure whether he had the status to join their nightly dinner. And while still inside the wagon, he decided on a quick drink and hoped for intoxication to send him to sleep.
"There should be dried meat here."
And just as Natalak was about to pull the ale, Ziana appeared.
"Ah, you're finally awake," Ziana said. "Why don't you come join us for dinner?"
"I-I would love to." Respond Natalak, pushing back the bottles of ale from his artefact.
Hungry and attracted by the smell of the roasting meat, Natalak felt pleased to enjoy a savoury meal. After dinner, Natalak and Ziana sat two feet apart, with one holding an ale and the other sipping coffee. And while the young adventurers roar their jokes and achievements, the veterans share their knowledge and experience. On the far side, Natalak was intently listening to their commotion, learning some hidden things of Vashkeil.
Whilst his ears are collecting information, Natalak's eyes sometimes wander, searching for Ziana's bodyguard. Nonetheless, Natalak shifts his interest and ponders about the book.
"You seem to be lost in thought," Ziana said.
Natalak chuckles for a moment. "Well, I'm still deciding on my travels."
Ziana nods slowly, smiling. "I see… There's something I want to give you." Handling over a certain small rectangular envelope. "I can't thank you enough, Natalak, for saving my life."
"Ah, don't worry about that; it's natural for me to react to that encounter," Natalak replied, accepting her offer.
The two continued for another minute of banter, exchanging stories and giving Natalak some advice on travels and such. After an hour or so, Ziana had to retreat from her tent, as half of the adventurers slept while the others stayed for the night shift.
Alone on the bonfire, Natalak perceived that some of the adventurers were intently keeping an eye on him. It was then that Sir Lucas approached him—
"I've heard of your good deeds during that ambush," Lucas said after sitting three feet from Natalak. "I guess I was wrong about you… being a simple traveller." The paladin then placed a pouch of coins near Natalak.
"I think it's too much for me to accept this," Natalak answered. "It's just a trivial help."
"Liar." Sir Lucas smiled. "If I were me, I'd best accept such gifts. It might save you from your next travels, my friend." The paladin stood.
"Thank you then, Sir Paladin." Natalak gave a slight bow before taking the pouch. "Oh, I don't seem to see your mage companion, the lady with a pipe… I was going to return her cloak." Natalak adds, pulling Lavrish's folded cloak for the paladin to see.
"Hmm… she's over there. And Madam Lavrish is a soccer, an archsage to be more precise." Lucas looks in the direction where Lavrish was.
"I see." Natalak followed where the paladin was looking.
"Is there anything more you want to tell me?" Lucas said.
"No-no." Natalak shakes his head slightly. "I'm just going to return her cloak."
Sensing no lies or ill intent, the paladin nods. "I understand; then I must leave you for now."
After Lucas had returned to his bedroll just fifteen feet away from Natalak, the traveller stood and walked where Lavrish was.