Wednesday, February 1, 2023

Day 32 - The Historian Had Gone Insane

The Historian Had Gone Insane 
Matthew Ryan Fischer
 
Wyatt put things bluntly, “The Historian has gone insane.” Wyatt blinked, and then--
 
 
“What were we talking about?” asked Nestor. He was alone in a room, but could have sworn he had been talking to someone. 
 
 
The Historian had written down so many versions that he couldn’t keep the truth straight anymore. He had his books, but his memory was a bit too fuzzy. When had time begun? The ancient past or the far flung future? Time was all around if you knew how to look for it. He could write it. Again. Change it. Mix it around. He had done it before. Nobody knew the truth except him. If he could just remember it. 
 
 
“Imagine surfing on a wave of radiant energy, only instead of surfing on a surfboard and having any control, you’re being pulled along the turbulent flow of gravity behind a wave, but it’s not really a wave and instead it’s actually the very fabric of the space-time continuum.”
It had been years, and Ares had been busy, but he could still remember the surfing metaphor. Slipstreaming was nothing like surfing, yet somehow the chaotic notion stuck with him. Time worked different for him. He had been alive inside the stream, but he couldn’t tell if he was young or old or if time was moving at all while he was inside it. He could have been lost for ages. But those ages might have only been seconds to somebody else.
He had been thrown out of the stream because of a ripple effect. Someone had changed time and he had been bounced from his ride. There was a blank hole missing from reality. A part of him had been ripped out and lost, but he couldn’t tell what it was or what changed.
He was still breathing though, that was good.
“Who are you?” asked the Librarian.
Ares was surprised to find himself in the middle of a library.
“You’ll have to forgive me, but I’m not totally sure what’s going on.”
“You just appeared out of thin air.”
“I know it might seem that way…” Ares reached out, tried to find a wave to catch onto. If he could slip back into the flow of time then he wouldn’t have to make up any terrible excuses for what was happening.
No such luck. He had been cut off. The strings of time had been broken and he was left disconnected.
“This might sound weird, but what do you know about tweaking time?”
The Librarian stared at Ares for a moment, lost in some deep thought. “Not enough. But I read about it in a book.”
“You don’t seem shocked.”
“You haven’t read some of the books I’ve read.”
“Probably true. Why don’t you tell me about them?”
“You’re the one who appeared out of nowhere in my library. Perhaps we should start with you.”
Fair enough, thought Ares. But what could he say. That he could tug at the strings of reality and change time itself? That there was an energy that connected all of reality and that he had been living inside its flow for god only knows how long? That someone had done something to change time and the only way he knew that was the time change sent an energy ripple throughout all reality? How was he going to explain that? This librarian seemed at ease with the appearing from thin air, but there was only so far Ares could push things.
 
 
The Historian wrote another line. Told a little verse. Hummed a little tune. It was fun. He was having fun.
 
 
What book did you find, Nestor asked no one in particular.
 
 
There had been a monk who read what he shouldn’t have read and a secret unraveled. He thought he could change time. He had no idea. The Historian wouldn’t let him do too much.
 
 
The longer Ares talked, the more it seemed as if the Librarian believed every word he was saying, but more than that, that he fully expected all of this to happen.
“I have a book I think you’ll want to read. Have you heard of The Sibylline Prophesies? I think I always knew this day would come…”
 
 
The Historian paused. Someone somewhere was just out of reach and he couldn’t tell what they were doing. He could feel it coming but couldn’t pinpoint where. Someone else was trying to change things. Someone else was aware of him. He could write his way out of this, but first he had to identify them. He had to do it quickly, before they had a chance to write something of their own.
But where were they?
 
 
The Librarian led Ares to the lower levels of The Stacks. They had very important research to begin.
 
 
 
 
 
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