Chapter Twenty-Eight : Mountain on the Edge of Forever

So this is what time looks like.

That was so stupid. Time didn't look like anything. This would have been broken time anyway. Like Psijic-Spock said… they weren't supposed to meet. But this Spock didn't even believe in destiny. Why did he believe in destiny later? What changed?

Perhaps this is what changed…

"Hey, Spock," James wondered, catching him before he disappeared into the swirling… whatever that was. Spock looked back over his shoulder at James, one eyebrow arched as usual instead of actually answering. "Do you believe in destiny?"

Spock sighed and looked back at the opening in the universe before him. "I…" he started, and stopped, before starting again. "I do not know."

"I don't think I buy it anymore," James admitted. "If we weren't destined to meet in your future's past, then how did we meet now? Unless…" He paused and realized there was a way for destiny after all. And he didn't like it. "Unless, when you go through that thing…"

"Everything will be as it was," Spock finished with a nod. "The way it was supposed to be."

"That's what I don't get!" James pointed at the swirling vortex before them, as though that was somehow supposed to provide the answer to his question. "How do we know which way things are 'supposed to be'? Why not the way things are? Whatever our lives might have been, if time is broken, our destinies have changed."

Spock considered that for a while, then answered, "If I cannot believe myself, then who am I to believe?" He paused, sighed, and then spun around to face James. "I may not remember, but we'll meet again."

"Not from my perspective," James reminded. "And who knows? Once you go through there… maybe everything will be different. Maybe this never happened." His mind suddenly felt like it could no longer fit within the confines of his skull. "Ugh," he groaned. "And I'll be better for it. All this time-travel nonsense. The future's the past; the past is the future. It all just gives me a headache."

Spock sighed. "I won't be. But I shouldn't put it off any longer. Tell Nyota that her secret is safe with me."

"What secret?" James asked, frowning.

Spock smiled slightly, or else James was imagining it. "I have no comment on the matter."

James laughed. "Fair; that's fair."

"Whether I remember you or not, whether we belong in the same time or not…" Spock offered, before turning to go back to his own time and place through the rip in time, "I have been and always will be your friend."

James nodded, and suddenly it was quite clear that he would never see Spock again. He might have been happy… he probably should have been. After all, Spock was a pain to deal with and a Thalmor to boot. He was like a tourist in the country he'd lived in for years. "Same goes for me," James agreed.

"And perhaps you will remember," Spock offered, and walked toward another time. "I can only tell you, I hope you are able to find a way to give each man of Skyrim—and even beyond—hope and a common future. I believe you can do that and I can return to the past knowing that these…" He paused and looked around, one final glance at James. "These are the days worth living for. Good bye, Dragonborn."

Lost for words for a moment, James shouted, "You can call me 'Jim,' you know!" But he wasn't sure Spock heard. He wasn't sure what he wanted to say even now that the opportunity was gone. That's how it always seemed to work, wasn't it? Don't know what to say until it's too late to say it?

Well, he still wasn't sure what he wanted to say. He might have said, "Stay here." But that wouldn't have worked, not in a million years… Or even two hundred. He inhaled the frozen air above High Hrothgar and looked down on Skyrim, that place he was supposed to save, that Spock believed he could. And maybe he could. It looked so small from up here, he wondered. And ever so much smaller now.

He trekked down the pathway to High Hrothgar where the rest of them were waiting and resting. Bones was down one of the long hallways sitting in front of one of the windows that looked out into the seamless beyond between this mountain, the sky, and the horizon. Bones looked up at him when he arrived.

"He's gone," James sighed.

"Finally," Bones grunted, but James could tell he was just as sad as he was. "We can rest in peace at night." He reached into his shirt and pulled out his amulet of Talos. "Won't have to put up with his… stupid questions."

"Killing chickens?" James asked with a laugh.

"Oh, gods," Bones muttered.

They were both silent for a short time. James didn't know what he was thinking except trying not to think. By now, Spock was probably on the way down to Ivarstead… He'd know better than to kill a chicken this time, one hoped. He didn't know where he'd go after that, but maybe he would eventually head to the College at Winterhold. Maybe wherever he ended up would put him on the path to joining the Psijic Order. It was impossible to tell… But that was some of the fun of thinking about it, still. He could have been anywhere, and so could James.

Perhaps the world wasn't smaller after all.

The world was much bigger than he'd ever imagined.