New January

Prologue

The Old Universe had been beautiful.

Of course, not many had been able to describe it as such, as only certain privileged beings were able to view it in its entirety.

To anyone who could have seen it, which was impossible, it looked like the night sky in any of the Secondary Realms. Complete darkness, dotted with pinpricks of white light that represented each the Realms themselves.

At the centre of this view was a light brighter than the others. And if anyone were around to notice this light, which, once again, is impossible, they would have noticed that it was always in the centre of their vision.

This light was the House, the centre of the Old Universe. As long as it had existed, the Secondary Realms had existed as well. It shone brighter than any of the Realms, connecting them all. It watched over them, recorded them and made sure they all survived.

However, no one could have seen this, or described it.

But that doesn't mean that nothing could have seen it.

Drifting though the expanse of creation was a sword. Its blade was black, yet somehow this black was darker than the endless blackness around it. Its hilt was carved with intricate detail, covered in symbols from languages long dead.

If the notion that no one could have seen it was anything but, those who could have seen it would have thought it was brand new. But in truth, this sword was ancient beyond comprehension. The beginning of the Old Universe was not the beginning of the sword.

The end of the Old Universe was not the end of the sword.

The end was slow, yet sudden. The light that was the House had begun to fade, until it was only slightly brighter than the Secondary Realms. Then, the light simply blinked out, along with all the Secondary Realms.

Now, only three things remained.

The first was a pair of lights near where the House had been. One was old and dying, the other was new and only just beginning. They floated around each other until one faded away.

The second was the blackness. This was the very thing that had destroyed the House and also the thing from which all of creation was made. Before it had been called Nothing, but those who called it that did not exist anymore.

The third was the sword. It was still there, floating in the darkness, an inanimate observer of the Old Universe's end. It drifted far away from the gaze of the being whose light remained, through the blackness that did not seem to touch it.

This was all that was left of creation.

If anyone had been around at this point, which was now absolutely impossible, they would have said that the darkness didn't last long.

The last remaining light suddenly flashed. The light spread to the edges of creation, yet somehow the sword was still hidden. When the light faded, what remained was an exact copy of the Old Universe. The light of the House reappeared, once again only slightly brighter than the others, but over time it grew to its old brightness.

Still, anyone from the Old Universe would have seen that this New Universe was different, if they could have done the impossible act of being in that dark void.

That said, if anyone had been in there at the time, they might have noticed the sword move.

It spun and twisted, changing direction until its tip was pointed directly at the House. In the darkness, an observer that could not have been there wouldn't have been able to tell when it began moving forward, but it did.

It gained speed, going faster and faster until it reached a velocity that was incomprehensible in the terms of the Secondary Realms. Even so, it was able to maneuver around the Realms it passed, yet somehow still keep heading straight towards the House.

The House was its destination, this was true, but the sword's movement had begun a series of events eons in the making. The sword had survived the end of the Old Universe, as had its plans.

And these plans would change the course of history.

Suzy Turquoise Blue was not in a good mood.

It had been many millennia since the New Architect had restored the universe and begun rebuilding the House. He had done this with the help of her, Doctor Scamandros, Lieutenant Keeper Fred and Giac. And yet, in all those millennia, He had not chosen His Morrow Days. He knew that she had called dibs on Lady Sunday, but He refused to listen to her!

She had put it down to waiting for the House to be completed, but He had seemed different lately. He always seemed distracted; glancing around when He thought no one was looking. But Suzy was looking, out of the corner of her eye, and she knew he was troubled. So, after much hesitation, she decided to ask him about it.

She was sitting in the castle that the New Architect (or Art to his friends) had built for everyone in the rebuilt Incomparable Gardens. She regularly spent her time here, drinking tea because she had nothing else to do, unless Art summoned her.

At that moment, Art appeared and sat on one of the large sofas positioned around the room. He looked tired for the creator of the universe, His slouching position and unkempt hair evidence of this. Although, His hair was always a little messy.

Just like Arthur's. Suzy thought, and then quickly pushed it away. This is not Arthur. This is the New Architect. No matter how similar they look, they are different people.

Still, he seemed off, more off than usual. He was making less of an effort to hide His shifting eyes, and He was tense, despite His slouched appearance.

Suzy mentally sighed. She had been gathering up the courage for days now. It was time to ask.

"Art." Suzy said.

Art started, as if He had only just noticed her. He relaxed, a little too quickly, and smiled at her. "Hello, Suzy. How are you?"

It seemed a normal question, but there was something about it that made Suzy worry. "I'm fine." She answered.

"Good." He said, sounding more like He was talking to Himself than her. "Good."

Here, Suzy hesitated, but she needed to do this. "But I don't think you are."

Art visibly tensed, but tried to hide it. "What do you mean? I'm fine."

"No, you're not." She said. "You've been acting weird lately. It's like your expecting something to jump out at you. What's wrong?"

He tried to look puzzled, but couldn't make it quite convincing enough. "Nothing is wrong, Suzy." He spoke with a small element of sternness, as if He thought that He could end the conversation quickly.

"Yes, there is!" Suzy stood up, refusing to let Him stop her. "Why are you being so secretive?"

Art stood up. "I am not being secretive." He was getting frustrated now, but that wouldn't stop Suzy.

"Yes, you are!" Suzy all but shouted. "Tell me what's-" She didn't get to finish, as suddenly the New Architect was standing in front of her, growing to full height. He'd never done that to her before, but now He was using it to intimidate her. It was working.

"Suzanne!" He used her full name, anger pouring into every letter. "Nothing is wrong and you will let the matter drop!" He glared at her. She glared back. "Is that understood?"

Suzy gritted her teeth. "Yes, sir."

"Good." The New Architect returned to regular height, turning away from her. "Now, I have work to do. Good day." The last part was cold. In a flash, he was gone, leaving Suzy seething in an empty room.

She didn't stay long. After a few seconds of fuming, she summoned an elevator to the Lower House and was gone, her tea left forgotten on the table.

When she and Doctor Scamandros began rebuilding the Lower House, Suzy had requested a place for her to think ever once and awhile. After much discussion, they had decided to rebuild the Coal Cellar, the deep pit in the Lower House where Suzy had saved Arthur the first time.

As Suzy stepped out of the elevator, she looked around, checking to see if the Doc (as she called him, much to his annoyance) was walking around like he sometimes did, muttering to himself for whatever reason. She didn't know why he did this, but she was glad he wasn't in the muttering mood today. She needed to be alone.

So, there she was, curled up, head on her knees, arms around her legs, sobbing her eyes out. She had originally come down here to throw a tantrum, because even though she had the body of an adult, her mind was that of a child. And to a child's mind, tantrums solve everything. But as her anger faded through her long, colorful bout of cursing, swearing and stomping, she came to a point where there was no anger remaining and began to do what she always did.

Cry.

She hated it when it got to that stage, but she never did anything to stop it. She wasn't crying out of anger or any selfish reason like that. She was crying out of sadness. With each tear, each breathless gasp, a new wave of memories washed over her. Memories of the Old Universe. The people she'd met. Her friends. Sunscorch, the second mate that had become Wednesday's Dawn. Commodore Monkton, Longtayle and the Raised Rats. All of them.

They were all gone.

That was why she cried. Even now, after all these years, she still mourned them. The House, and its ever shifting time-stream, can do that to a person.

She stayed like that for some time, even after the last tear had fallen, listening to the quiet of the Coal Cellar. Eventually, her legs began to fall asleep and she decided to leave. She stood up, brushed herself off and raised her hand to call an elevator back to the Gardens.

That was when she heard it.

It was faint, almost inaudible. But it still made Suzy turn her head. What was that? She thought. It had sounded like breaking glass, but there was no glass in the Coal Cellar. She looked around, but no-one was there. She was considering simply ignoring it when something above caught her attention. She looked up.

A red glow was descending from the sky, heading straight down. It was going to land some distance away, so Suzy watched it fall. She thought it was some kind of falling star, but stars didn't fall into the House. Perhaps someone was looking for her, but she dismissed that too. She hadn't been gone long and Scamandros was the only person who knew about this place.

In her pondering, she hadn't realized the light had reached ground level until it hit. There was a bright red flash and a muffled boom, the ground rumbling as the shockwave passed her. She shielded her eyes as coal dust was flung towards her, covering her in a thin layer of black. As the wind receded, she lowered her arms and looked towards the area where the… whatever-it-was… had landed.

She had a choice to make. She knew it would be best to go back to the Gardens, to tell the New Architect what she had seen. But then she remembered his voice as he had towered over her and a bit of anger that had lingered within her rose up again. She could handle herself. She turned and walked towards the impact site.

As she approached, she suddenly thought that this place seemed familiar. The coal piles, which had mysteriously popped up again after Scamandros had rebuilt the cellar, were becoming rarer, more spread out. Eventually, they disappeared altogether. Soon after, she arrived at her destination.

She realized where she was almost immediately.

The Old One's prison. She had heard Arthur describe it before, a large clock face set into the ground, with the Old One himself held down by chains that were connected to the hands, getting tighter or looser as the time went by. Suzy didn't understand. The Old One was long gone, so why was his prison here? Scamandros couldn't have rebuilt this, there was no point.

Whatever the reason, the clock was unusable now. Cracks spread from the center, some a couple of inches thick. The clock hands had been blown off, as Suzy saw when she looked around. The hour hand lay nearby, the mark on the ground indicating that it had slid to a stop. The minute hand lay a few meters away, the broken end embedded into the ground while the arrow end pointed into the sky. And there, in the center of the clock, was the cause.

Suzy immediately recognized the shape of a sword, but one unlike any she had ever laid eyes on. The blade, at least the half that wasn't embedded into the clock, was made of a metal darker than any metal she had ever seen. It was like staring into Nothing. It gave her chills. The hilt was a cross that seemed to fuse into the blade, the cross-guard resembling wings, intricately detailed, with skulls and scrolls hanging from the feathers. The grip was wrapped in black leather and covered in writing in languages Suzy didn't recognize. The pommel was a crown, made from dark silver, with grey gems encrusted into it.

Even Suzy, who knew next to nothing about such things, thought it was beautifully designed. She stepped closer without even realizing, trying to get a better look. The sword seemed to beckon to her, drawing her nearer. A small part of her knew this was dangerous, that she didn't know what she was doing. But her curiosity had gotten the better of her.

She was an arm's length away from the sword. She reached out and touched it.

The sword suddenly flashed. Suzy had only a single fleeting moment to regret her decision before a blast of energy threw her backwards into the air.

She hit the ground, a loud crack echoing as her head impacted, and she slipped into unconsciousness.

It was all so sudden that she never noticed the glowing mark that has appeared on her arm.

XVI

Throughout the New Universe, old forces began to move.

The Annum had begun.

When Suzy woke up, she was so disorientated that she couldn't see. Her head hurt and her ears were ringing. And, for some reason, her wrist was burning.

Her hearing recovered first and she soon discovered she wasn't alone. Someone was arguing nearby and seemed to have been doing so for some time.

"You seem to believe this is my fault." A voice said. It was a male voice, the kind of voice that was calm and collected yet always sounded a little snide and superior.

"Oh, I seem to believe?" Another voice snapped back. This one was female, high and dripping with anger and sarcasm. "Well, I must not be trying hard enough, because this is your fault!"

"I believe I have made myself perfectly clear." The man said, staying ever calm in the face of the woman's rage. "I do not choose the Heralds, the sword does."

"But you are the Keeper of the Blade!" The woman was disbelieving.

"That does not mean I have power over it."

"No power? You're the second strongest of us all!" The woman shouted. "The right hand of His Majesty!"

"Even so, His Majesty is the only one who has any power over the Blade." The man explained. "The sword has made its choice. We cannot change that."

"But it's not a choice!" the woman refused to let the situation drop. "It gave power to the first person who happened to come across it! How can we trust her?"

"You know as well as I do that none of us trust each other, especially in the absence of Our King." There was a faint ruffling. Suzy guessed he was shrugging his shoulders. "The girl is no different."

"But she knows nothing of our ways!"

"No-one does!" The man had lost his patience. "Not until we can figure out the location of our forces, which, need I remind you, are still scattered throughout the Secondary Realms."

There was silence for a moment, before there was a crunching sound as one of them turned. "Fine." the woman said. "Continue with your plans. But on your head be it if His Majesty's return is delayed because of your inaction."

"I'll keep that in mind."

Suzy had kept her eyes closed until this point, but the sound of an elevator arriving gave her cause to open them. Her vision was blurry and she couldn't make out any details about her company. All she could tell was that the man seemed to be wearing some kind of robe. A tiny glance was all she got of the woman, who had already stepped into the elevator.

The elevator doors closed and disappeared. The robed man stood there for a moment, before speaking up. "You're awake."

Suzy flinched, a tiny action somewhat painful, as she was discovered. The man turned to her. She couldn't make out his face, as it too was covered in robes. "That's good." He continued. "It means I won't have to wait or, even worse, carry you." He strode over to her. Suzy's eyesight was recovering at this point and, as he stepped closer, she realized that his robes were made out of parchment, the writing on it constantly shifting and changing.

"Oh, come now, you're filthy." He raised a hand, revealing it to be a construct of gears and copper, and snapped his fingers. Instead of a screech of metal against metal, there was a perfectly normal snapping sound. Suzy felt herself rise into a sitting position, the dust falling off of her. Another snap and her hat, which had flown off and landed some distance away, returned to her head. "Come on, stand up, chop chop."

Suzy hesitated for a moment, but quickly decided to go along with it. Whoever this guy was, she had a feeling he wasn't someone she wanted to mess with. "Good." He said as she rose. "At least your legs still work."

She looked at him, immediately noticing something was wrong. It took her a moment to figure out what. She was looking up at him.

He seemed to read her thoughts. "Ah, yes." He said it as if it was something so unimportant he had forgotten it until now. "The power of the sword blew away any lasting magic your New Architect put on you." He turned. "However, this body will suffice." He raised his robotic hand and pressed a button that appeared in the air milliseconds before he pushed it. The doors of an elevator opened in front of him and he stepped in, holding the door open for her.

She was considering the notion of running when he said, "Come now, in." and made a gesture like one you would use to bring someone towards you. Suzy felt the tug of sorcery as she was pulled into the elevator and turned around to face the doors.

She caught a final glimpse of the Coal Cellar before the doors closed.

She was quiet as the elevator began to rise to who-know-where. She gathered her courage and hesitantly asked, "Where are you taking me?"

"You'll see." That was all he said.