Shadows over Sigil - The Eternal Boundary

The First Wheels Start Turning

That evening, Yelmalis had drunk three glasses of Bytopian brandy, which was otherwise absolutely not his style. Normally, he would have sought out his brother Finawel, spoken to him, asked him for advice. But his factol had instructed him to keep quiet about the matter, even to his family and closest friends. Only Judge Jamis and Hashkar's secretary knew about it, apart from himself and the factol. Nothing would have been further from his mind than to disobey his factol's orders, but sitting alone in his writing room with this new knowledge didn't make things any easier. At least that was a plus when it came to the other Chosen: No longer being alone with this monstrous case. When Hashkar had summoned him again, but this time in the company of Mallin, the Duke, Darius and Bria Tomay of the Free League, Yelmalis had sensed even more clearly than at the first meeting that something big was about to happen, something that would turn his life upside down. And he didn't particularly like it when something turned his life upside down. He liked certainties and fixed structures. He liked to make plans that had a high probability of working out. This was not plannable, unstructured and chaotic, and that made him sick to his stomach. He could probably tell from his factol that he felt the same way - which was at least a small comfort. Mallin had rather intimidated him at that meeting, and the Duke had been superficially friendly, even jovial, but in a slightly patronizing way that Yelmalis disliked. Moreover, he was certain that Rowan Darkwood had quite a few ulterior motives and interests of his own in this matter, and perhaps possessed information that he did not readily share with the others, despite the alliance of their factions. Darius, on the other hand, had been friendly and approachable, pleasant to deal with and considerate of the nervousness as well as the concerns of all the Chosen. Just like Bria Tomay, one of the three leaders of the Free League, that did not consider itself a faction and therefore had no official factol. The bard had been cordial and open with the Chosen, but Yelmalis had noticed a distinct tension between her and Mallin, and her relationship with Rowan Darkwood didn't seem particularly warm either. Hashkar had introduced him, with very complimentary words about his skills as a wizard and lawyer, which had certainly made him blush. But he could not lie, the recognition of his factol had also filled him with pride. The reference to his gift, however, had immediately brought him back down to earth, as this was a point that was still unfathomable and therefore uncanny to him. The others' gifts had also been explained: Garush's strength, speed and heightened senses that made her the child faster than wind and thought . She had discovered the gift as suddenly and surprisingly as he had during training in the Prison yard. Bria had called Dilae the child who dances to the music of existence, and it had turned out that she could create illusions through certain dance steps. Tarik, on the other hand, apparently had the ability to dreamwalk and was the child who wanders through dreams . Yelmalis had smiled a little at how well this gift suited a Signer. Finally, Sekhemkare was the child who calls forth the ancient souls and could probably make contact with so-called soul shreds of powerful but already deceased beings and benefit from their knowledge and skills. In a way, the air genasi told himself, this was also a perfect fit for a Taker. The factols and Bria had decided to form an alliance, share knowledge about the prophecy, find the machine together - even if it wasn't clear what they could, would or should do with it - and let the Chosen work together. Let them work together. He couldn't help but feel a little like a piece being moved around on a chessboard. But he had bowed to his factol's orders and wishes, like all the other Chosen. Now he sat in his study again, in the evening, brooding, alone with many questions and a little anxious about his future. The next day, he was to go to the Hive with the others and find out more about the whereabouts of a certain Eliath. He, Yelmalis, in the Hive. What a great idea. Garush might at least know how to help herself there, and Dilae might find her way around a little better than the others - the Free League did have some members in the Hive, unlike Mercykillers, Signers, Takers and Guvners. Sekhemkare had been hard to figure out, but Tarik hadn't made a very happy impression about the mission either. Yelmalis had considered meeting with him alone, talking to him about the whole affair, finding out what he thought about it. But he had been unsure how to initiate the conversation. And he had feared that the others, or even Tarik himself, might see it as divisive if he didn't include the other Chosen. So he had rejected the idea. Instead, he now sat at his desk and turned his gold pocket watch back and forth in front of him. During his first time leap, he had played with it out of nervousness when his gift had activated. Since then, he had only managed to jump once more, again into the past. It had been in the archives of the City Court, and he had been all alone - holding the clock in his hand, this time too. So, was his gift connected to the watch? Was it a kind of trigger or focus? But it wasn't just the watch alone. Just holding it or concentrating on it did not trigger the gift. He had tried often enough. Why couldn't he control it? Did he even have any conscious influence over it? Could he also travel to the future or only to the past? Could he go back further than just a few minutes? He wished for answers to these questions so much and he had apologized profusely to Hashkar for not being able to tell him more. For not having fathomed the gift better yet. His factol had kindly reassured him. He should take his time. Gradually, he would certainly find more access to this ability. This was his destiny, so he didn't need to pressure himself. As grateful as he was for Hashkar's kind and indulgent words, he remained impatient with himself. And so doubtful. The ability to travel through time, that was basically ... chronomancy? It was not for nothing that this school of magic was disreputable and explicitly forbidden in most places. In Sigil, too. If his gift involved something that was not allowed under the laws of the city, how could he ...? And if he couldn't even control it? The look on Mallin's face when Hashkar had explained his gift had at least made him swallow hard. As a Guvner and a lawyer, he was certainly the last person who would want to break the laws of Sigil in any way. True, he had Hashkar's explicit permission to research this ability, but even the High Judge of Sigil was not above the law. Of course, the gifts were not magic per se. They did not release any arcane energy - nor clerical, that much was certain. They were something else, almost more like an extension of physical abilities. So, strictly speaking, it wasn't chronomancy. And he would have been lying if he had claimed not to be curious about this new ability. Traveling through time was not only exciting, it was also a great power. And you could certainly cause a lot of mischief or even ruin with it. He shuddered at the idea that this gift had fallen to a Xaositect ... And yet, considering that there were obviously other Chosen ... it was not impossible that members of other factions had certain abilities as well. But who? Could Xaositects, Sinkers or even Anarchists also possess such gifts? This idea was anything but pleasant. Yelmalis turned the golden pocket watch back and forth once more, then stared out into the nightly rain again. He should sleep. The next day, he would have to go to the Hive with the others to find this Eliath who seemed to have some sort of visions. And since, according to the piece of parchment from the Free League, there was another child who looked into the past and the future ... But whether Eliath was one of them or not, this mission was the first step on what would probably be a long road. A path that he had neither hoped for nor chosen. But one that he would have to take nonetheless.