The Death of Time

There is no such thing as...

The past increases, the future recedes

Although Ananke did not feel wicked, she seemed to be bound to the old proverb that there is no rest for one of her kind. Her body ached in a way that she could not properly comprehend to the fullest. It was the kind of pain that was a constantly intrusive, permanent white noise, a strange sort of physiological response like the snow seen on a television screen when the connection is cut. Or a form of psychometric pins and needles. And ‘nake was well aware that the pains she experienced were only the bleed through of what Chronos was blocking from her. He was handling the vast majority of it, something the mortal woman was grateful for. It couldn’t be a pleasant experience for the Time God, an entity that was far more likely used to sensuous pleasure than excruciating pain.

Your concern is touching but I have experienced far worse, so do not fret. Chronos felt her disquiet and responded with his nonchalant arrogance.

It is appreciated nonetheless. Ananke felt the urge to shrug but couldn’t with Chronos still in command of their shared sleeping form.

There was a tendril of something not right curled around both Ananke and Chronos, something even less corporeal than the ethereal thoughts bantered between them. Gossamer threads that, had he been paying attention, Chronos would have come to realize were the trademark of an entity that overshadowed even him. But he wasn’t paying attention outwards, the sensation escaped notice due to his focus being stolen by pain that he could not admit to Ananke was quite almost all consuming. Her body was changed from something merely mortal and thus touchable by Death,  once by Thanatos and now again by Jörmungandr. The Father of Time suspected that these changes were far more potent and permanent than he as of yet understood, but now was not the time to investigate that line of thought. This mortal of his was supposed to be resting, but neither mind in their shared flesh was able to reach that state although the body was locked in slumber. The best they could do was settle into a comfortable silence while their consciousness’s slightly merged and they were aware of each other’s presence without being overwhelmed by it.

Herald stayed silence as Ananke’s body took in slow, deep breaths. The rhythm was different than when Ananke was the one in command of the body. The Immortal Ambassador tried t review all that had happened in his head. In the span of a little over a week, they travelled across the globe in a nonsensical fashion that was somehow expected to save it and all of time as well. Although he couldn’t imagine a permanent death due to an extended life of existence, Herald found he couldn’t really say the thought was unpleasant. Despite two rescued Pillars their journey had not been without cost, all of which seemed to be extracted from Ananke herself. And it was starting to show on the poor vessel. Chronos might think he had the situation in hand but Herald was starting to doubt that the God of Time even knew how to save his own carrier let alone all of existence. It was strange to long for both life and death. He had long ago made peace with the role he played in history and expected nothing to change until this quest of theirs had started. But if they were to fail, what would happen isn’t just a simple death. Would that make it better or worse? Would he even care then, the whole point of either was that he’s cease to be as he currently was. And Herald was nonplussed to discover that he was excited for that change, which was a terrible thing because he was supposed to be helping Ananke with her burden and Chronos with his task.

“I’m going to fail them.”  The statement was made out loud, surprising in its surety. Not because the task was impossible, though it was highly unlikely that they would succeed, but because Herald could no longer trust himself to keep Ananke alive. He didn’t wish her harm, in fact he was enchanted by her endurance both physically and even more so personality wise, but the dark realization in his mind was that he didn’t have to hurt her but he also didn’t have to save her either. The immortal man felt the concept settle into his mind, already spreading roots even though the original idea felt alien. He scrubbed at his face, the gesture familiar and futile for there is not sensation but the habit helped. “I will do my duty.” He muttered and steeled himself against the thoughts of ending. Unfortunately for the immortal Ambassador, doubt is a capable stalker and his internal turmoil kept him blind to the changing state that Ananke and Chronos found themselves in.