Masters of the Past
A/N: All the musketeers and those associated with them are not mine. The situation of the past, well some of them are mine but it is generally based in the Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess game. It is what the world looks like in that time. Don't like it? Then do find another story to read. Now, on with the story!
A young man stood crouched in the branches of a high tree, watching the carnage of the battle below, seeing the flames burn everything they touched. The man was in his early to late twenties with wild, curly brown hair and warm, brown eyes. His clothes were that of the French military, however, in this time, there was no military. Clutched under his arm were a set of sketch books filled with drawings of people and places in this time period, along with songs that matched each picture or person within their yellowed pages.
The man was considered a "time disruptor", a person who watched pieces of the future or the past then found the necessary people to change the event from happening. Usually, the people chosen for such a profession were those that were dead to the mortal world. This man was no exception.
As another body of a soldier was thrown across the field, he muttered to himself: "Maybe now would be a good time to head back…" and with a snap of his fingers, he vanished in a few wisps of pale gray smoke.
It was dinner time in the palace and the king and his most trusted advisors were dining together. Although not a regular occurrence, it wasn't uncommon and no one thought a thing about it.
The dining party consisted of a retired soldier, a baron, a priest, the captain of France's musketeers, and the king himself. They were busying talking in low whispers, not wanting to be heard by the servants stationed around the room. Everything had been going smoothly, that is, until the retired soldier, Athos, peered over the king's shoulder to see the ghostly apparition of his long dead son. Athos nudged the person beside him, D'Artagnan, and pointed as inconspicuously as possible. His eyes went wide and he tapped the king's leg with his foot urgently. Philippe understood and dismissed all the servants to other duties before spinning around in his seat and, upon seeing Raoul, gave a bright smile.
"Raoul what brings you back to this time? Is there another problem with the future?" Raoul gave a smile of acknowledgement before laying the books under his arm on the table silently.
"Not exactly. I thought that maybe you should see your past lives or at least the most important of them. These books…" He gestured to the four thick parchment books on the table before them.
"They tell the tales of probably the most important people of the past. The ones who allowed France to become what it is. But I do have one question for you all." He paused briefly to take in their looks of anticipation and impatience before giving a mischievous smile and continuing.
"Tell me, do any of you believe in magic?" They gave him looks of incredulity before bursting into unbridled laughter. Raoul's smile never wavered the slightest. As the group calmed, they realised he wasn't joking. He wanted an honest answer from them. They shared a few looks before giving a response. The answer was unanimous.
"No. Of course not." Raoul shook his head wearily. This made his mission a whole lot tougher for it would take a lot to make them believe what was in front of them. While everyone was waiting for Raoul's next move, Porthos reached forward and slid one of the books towards himself and opened it. Inside was a variety of pictures, well done sketches more like, and all of them had the same people involved. They looked, miraculously, like his own friends only with different clothes, older clothes, or a lack of covering from the waist up. Sometimes they were wearing long flowing robes and head dresses like some sort of chief or they were simply dressed to ride.
He flipped through the book, his eyes getting wider as he continued as the pictures became more disturbing. One showed what looked to be a replica of D'Artagnan in a prison, wearing what looked to be a rather ragged form of a tunic. Another was of a furious Athos but he was not all human as there seemed to be owl-like wings spread behind him and his face looked feathery, his eyes a bright, shining gold. Another depicted someone who looked like Aramis in prayer, standing on an outcropping overlooking a lake inside a cave. The rocks surrounding the lake had glowing designs of swirls and lines, fitted to curve about several of the rocks. The water in the picture was dyed a blinding gold, the same colour as Athos's eyes from the previous picture.
The next picture was something of a shock as it showed what looked to be the beginning of a war. It showed D'Artagnan standing proud and tall, silhouetted against a setting sun, an army of the most evil, the most vile creatures surrounding him. He himself was wearing a long black robe and flowing cape, looking so much like a lord, an evil lord.
The one beside it on the opposite page depicted a multiplicity of creatures, from ones that looked like huge walking boulders to fish people and even monkeys. Standing on an outcropping looking out over the army was Athos, Aramis, and himself gilded for war. He flipped to the next page to see nothing. He continued flipping through to the end to find no more images after the ones showing the beginning of a war. The pages were blank and looked to have never been touched by ink or dye.
"Raoul, what is with these pictures? The people… They look like… us." Porthos finished pathetically. The others grabbed a book each and started to flip through. Their faces were pictures of shock.
"These are the people of the past. The one who looks like Athos, his name is Eldin. This one on the left, his name is Faron. The one on the right of Eldin is Lanayru. And the one on the opposite page, that's Ordona. These men are your ancestors and are considered the most powerful magic users of their age. In their time, magic existed and was used frequently or at least acknowledged. What we are going to do is travel back in time about a thousand years ago and experience their lives." The others stared at Raoul trying to comprehend the thought of magic and the fact that it actually existed.
"So you're saying…" Athos said, folding his fingers and resting his head on them.
"That we are going to go into the past, witness magic being performed, and see our past selves?" Raoul nodded in confirmation. D'Artagnan raised an eyebrow and looked over at Aramis sceptically. Aramis raised an eyebrow back at him just as sceptically. Raoul watched their silent conversation with a slight smirk on his handsome face.
"I know you two don't believe me but trust me when I say that I wouldn't be telling you any of this if it wasn't true. Just give it a chance before you give it up as crazy." He looked around at the five people before standing up and clapping his hands.
"So, shall we gentlemen? So many time periods to visit and so little time to visit them all." They stood up and stood in front of him patiently.
"Oh and one more thing. Bring the sketch books. You're going to need them." They looked at him before four of them snatched up a sketch book. Philippe was going to share with D'Artagnan.
"Alright! Let's be on our way!" Raoul drew a pouch from his belt and poured out some black powder into his palm. He raised a hand to his mouth and blew, sending the powder in over the five men. There were three loud crashes and they were gone. Raoul smirked.
"And so it begins." He muttered before snapping his fingers and vanishing into little wisps of pale smoke.