Time Does Not Flow Here

The island was never changing and calm. Waves lapped up and down on the shore, setting a languid tempo for everything to follow. The sand was soft and dry. The rustle of the leaves was hardly noticeable in the background. Wind was absent, but strangely enough, the air wasn't stagnant.

Slowly - unexpectedly- Valleri opened her eyes. She was breathing evenly and her throat wasn't scratched like it was before. Staring up, the young woman saw a clear sky filled with multi hued galaxies and bright stars. Reds, greens, and blues swirled about the sky in perplexing swirls. Valleri couldn't bring herself to look away.

Was this Aetherius?

Valleri was too tired to chastise herself for not paying attention to Anya's sermons about Arkay. Besides, in a chapel devoted to Dibella, they were few and far between. There was no reason to kick herself for not remembering. And this place did look whimsical enough to be Aetherius.

With a grunt, Valleri hoisted herself up from the sand. Her clothes and hair were dry. She really must be dead.

Her memories of falling into a trench then being dragged away were still hazy. Valleri rubbed her temples in an attempt to recall anything else. Was it safe to assume she was tossed into the sea and drowned?

Eyes falling to the horizon, Valleri looked for anything familiar. Instead, the sea went on forever.

Yes, Valleri was dead.

She stood up and brushed sand off her shirt. Valleri regretted turning around. In front of her was a stone staircase surrounded by golden birch trees and large purple crystals. Hazy fog obscuring most of the path was pierced only by floating lights. Her heart raced as the scene beckoned her forward. Valleri refused to move her feet. After years of plaguing her, she couldn't just let the island win.

And then there was Falasil.

Valleri nearly forgot about him. The voice hadn't returned in a day or two. Valleri was happy enough to pretend it had never existed. But now it was about to make itself very real. That was, if she was indeed still alive.

After only a minute, Valleri's stubbornness wore off. Her hands drug across the railing of the steps as she followed the path set before her. The stone wasn't quite as cold as the Imperial expected. In fact, the entire island felt too warm. Especially compared to the chill of the storm Valleri died in. Valleri paused to look further into trees. Of course there was nothing there. Nothing lurked in the shadows to watch her. Everything was still off.

The floating lights bobbed up and down wildly, trying to get Valleri's attention. She swatted one away when it came too close to her face. Her eyes narrowed as she watched the floating light bob away as though nothing had happened. She followed it down the path.

Valleri had no idea how long she walked. The floating lights that lined the path excited and ran after her. Soon enough there were enough of the lights to start an army. There were no sounds this deep in the golden birch forest.

There should have at least been the sound of rustling leaves. But there were only the sounds of Valleri's blood pounding in her ears and her feet against the stone underfoot.

After what felt like an eternity, Valleri spied an archway in the fog. Leaves and vines wound around Ayleid wrought iron. Valleri halted and crossed her arms with a scowl. That's where she had to go. But she really didn't want to.

Fuck that.

Instead, Valleri held her ground and glared at the archway. If she was dead, she had an eternity to wait. She could play this game.

With a huff, Valleri laid on the stone path and closed her eyes. She wasn't there for very long before she heard someone approaching her form the direction of the archway. Their footsteps were soft but hurried.

"Valleri Hayn!"

A grin spread on the young woman's face but her eyes stayed shut. "Yes, Falasil?"

"What are you doing?"

"I have no idea."

Cracking open an eye, Valleri finally saw the origin of the haunting voice. Above her was a tall, dark skinned elf looming over. Long braids were pulled back with silver ribbons made of the same material as his robes. His face was drawn into a concerned grimace. Valleri's grin widened.

"Please get up. We're almost at the meeting spot and there's another guest waiting for us that I'd like you to meet."

"Hey, Falasil?"

"Yes?"

"I'm dead, right?"

Falasil's nose crinkled. "It is a little more complex than life and death."

"Then make it simple."

"Then, no. No, you're not dead."

"One more question, Falasil."

"Yes, Valleri?"

"How long have you been living in my head?"

Falasil's face twitched. "A few… years. Long before you entered Garlas Malatar."

The Imperial grin soured. "That answer is… unnerving. And it was probably worse for me than it was for you."

The Ayleid cut Valleri off before she could say anything else. "We have a lot to talk about. Now come."

Spurred on by the floating lights dancing around her head, Valleri begrudgingly lifted herself from the ground. They followed her and Falasil past the archway and into the fog. Valleri rubbed her eyes and in an instant, the fog disappeared.

Instead, she found herself standing at the entrance of a small plaza. Birch limbs spread above her in tessellating patterns. The only light came from shafts of starlight coming through the branches and soft glow of the almost alive orbs that followed her in. In the middle of the plaza was a circle of stone carved into ornate seats.

Sitting down was a woman with heavy brown braids and a navy dress. Her dark olive skin was pockmarked and wrinkled, but her burnt umber eyes made her appear younger than she really was. The woman turned to the newcomers and smiled warmly. Valleri's heart almost stopped.

"Who is this? Did she die in the storm as well?"

"Right. There would be no way you would know my mistress. This is-"

"The name given to me in my youth was Perriff." The woman paused and Valleri's eyes went wide. "Though the name given to me by the slave masters was Al-Esh."

"Saint Alessia?"

"Yes."

Valleri rubbed her eyes with a sigh. "Even if I were dead, I don't think I was a saint or some sort of evil necromancer. So you must want something big, because I have no reason to think two ancient beings would just welcome me to the afterlife."

Falasil and Alessia exchanged a glance. "You're not wrong," the Ayleid stuttered. "Do you remember the message I sent you in Garlas Malatar?"

Even though Valleri had no memory of the message, the words poured out of her mouth, "Amraldava Falasil Sedor Aran Al-Eshe Lie. Falasil of Sedor foretells the next ruler of Alessia's people."

Flasil's lips curled slightly, "Prefect."

"So what do I do, Falasil?" Valleri gestured wildly. "Do I go find my good friend Titus and say, ' Hey chap! A very dead elf told me that there's going to be a king of some sort. I have no idea what that means but best of luck! ' That's ridiculous!"

"Valleri, that prophecy was not for the Medes. If it were, we wouldn't have bothered with you."

Valleri scowled. "Wonderful."

This time, Alessia spoke up, "What do you think of the Empire?"

This time the Imperial hesitated. Any semblance of words disappeared from her mind as she struggled to understand the question. She glanced over to Falasil only to see he was equally astonished. "I, um… It's not without faults but it's … fine. Everything is fine."

"Are you absolutely sure?" the older woman questioned, arching a brow. She believed none of it. "You are but one person, but you've seen multitudes. You've seen farmers lose the land they sow only for it to be drowned in blood. You've seen people torn away from their families. You've seen people lose themselves only because they have nothing left."

"The Reachman," Valleri whispered to herself.

Alessia perked up. "Exactly. I've seen similar things. For years, I saw friends lose their lives and loved ones to the terrors of Ayleid kings. It almost broke me. When I received my first vision, I was about to give up."

"I'm not at that level, Alessia. Your majesty? Empress? Saint?"

"Alessia is fine. But Valleri, think about what you have seen. You would wish for it to change, yes?"

Valleri crossed her arms, "Anybody with sense would.."

"Then that is what we want from you."

Again, Valleri couldn't say anything. The words stuck in her throat when she tried to speak. Alessia stared at her with a stern expression. Falasil wore a similar expression. Finally, Valleri gulped the lump in her throat down. "How? Am I supposed to find someone? Because I can't just change an empire."

This time, Falasil spoke up. His voice was sharp and pained as his face contorted into a grimace. "I have been watching you - with you- for years. I know what you're capable of, Valleri. You have the potential to change things. You deserve more credit than you give yourself."

"Fine! Hypothetically, if I say yes, then what? How do I change an empire? Because potential doesn't mean shit."

"With our help, you'll found a new empire. Start the Empire fresh in our - your - vision."

Valleri's skin went cold as Alessia's words echoed in her head. Her eyes went wide when the meaning finally clicked. She backed up, waving her hands wildly, "No, no, no."

Alessia stood up, navy dress billowing behind her. "You will need help and authority to convince the people to let you ascend. It will be hard. But we have a way to help. You'll have to-"

"Become a lich," Falasil interrupted. He rolled his eyes, addressing Alessia. "We may as well be honest about it. It is… almost as bad as it seems. That person who Valleri will have to confront is nothing to reckon with and there is a chance that she won't be able to make it out of Sedor."

When he paused, Falasil noticed the pale, horrified expression on the Imperial's face. She shook uncontrollably now.

"You want me to… to, to give up my life to become a lich and continue the cycle of bureaucratic abuse?"

Alessia approached Valleri, gently taking the younger Imperial's hand in hers. "I know this is so much to ask for. But you are the only one we believe can do this. This is what you were meant for. I can feel it!"

"No. I'm not. You might believe in fate and destiny, but I don't. My life is only just starting to settle and I can't just… do any of this! Never! Not even when the world ends."

"I thought the same at one point," Alessia continued. Her expression grew sullen. "Major events have been set in motion already with or without your input." Valleri smiled, "Then you don't need me per se."

"No, we do because we want the future to have a chance to be brighter than it is now." The saint gently grasped Valleri's right wrist. Blue wisps of light smoked from under Alessia's thumb as she drew a pattern on Valleri's skin. "Soon you two will have to come to the realization that you can help in a way no one else can. This mark will serve as a reminder that we will be here in case the need arises."

Slowly, the Imperial lifter her wrist to eye level. On the inside surface was a large scarring blister. The shape, while undefined and bleeding, reminded her of a winged diamond with eight points on the outside. Valleri's shaking only got worse.

"No, no, no. I'm dreaming now right? This isn't actually happening."

Falasil and Alessia exchanged a harrowed glance. Neither knew exactly what to say anymore.

Valleri's head was in her hands now, fingers desperately running through her hair. "No. I have to go, leave this place. I have to go home. Because I'm not doing any of this."

"Valleri, you'll have to eventually come to your senses. There's no going back now," Falasil spoke up.

The Imeprial's head whipped at his comment and she snarled.

"Damn you to Oblivion, Falasil. I never agreed to any of this."

With that, the Imperial turned on her heel and sprinted out of the plaza. The small floating lights that followed her now struggled to catch up as she sprinted back to the beach. Her feet tripped over themselves and Valleri nearly went sprawling on the stone path. Finally, the trees receded. In front of her was the beach.

The waves had been calm and nonthreatening when she woke up earlier. But now, whitecaps crashed on the shore. It was fitting. Valleri felt the same rage now. The feeling settled deep in her chest and it threatened to stay there for as long as she remained on this gods forsaken island.

Without thinking Valleri ran into the waves. The water pounded against her, trying to carry her back to shore. But Valleri didn't care. Everytime she was sent backwards, Valleri only swam further ahead.

When she was too far away from the island to rethink her hasty decision, the sea pulled her under the surface. Instinctively, Valleri gulped a lungful of water. The salt stung her eyes as she tried to look for the sky.

Instead, the water buffeted her around like a doll. Her panic only worsened. There was nothing to secure and now she had no idea where she was heading.

Wasn't this how she made it to the island in the first place? The memory was foggy.

Valleri had no clue how long had passed when she felt sharp rocks against her back. They tore at her clothes and in the next moment the waves drug her way. Then she was thrown back in. Over and over, the waves threw Valleri into rocks and corals.

She didn't last long.

One final time, Valleri felt her left arm get caught between two large stones. Before she could dislodge her wayward limb from the crevice, the waves throttled her in the opposite direction. She felt a snap then nothing but pain. Sharp awful pain shot from her forearm all the way to her neck.

Valleri's eyes snapped open and all she saw was red. Was it coming from the cuts that now covered her entire body? Or was it just the rage and terror? Valleri couldn't tell anymore.

Then came black.

Then nothing.

…

The world was still stormy grey when Valleri's eyes flitted open. It was difficult to tell what time it was with the odd lack of color. She groaned as her fingers dug into the sand she was laying on. It was wet and cold. Everything was wet and cold, including her clothes and hair. For some reason that wasn't important.

Slowly, memories, hazy and dream-like, came back to her. That was a relief. It was just a dream.

Valleri struggled to breathe as she fought to sit on her knees. Her hands sank into the sand beneath her as she grappled with herself. Cold saltwater stung the scrapes and cuts all over her limbs. Shaky and tired, the young woman finally came to her knees. She felt dizzy, as though she would fall back down in the sand once again any moment.

Taking a few deep breaths, Valleri tried to calm down. But with each passing second her pulse only quickened. It was only just then she felt the sharp pain in her lower arm. Slowly, Valleri looked down.

Her forearm swelled with huge swathes of deep purple bruises. She gulped and held back tears. With all of her luck, of course it was broken. It must have happened when she got stuck in the rocks.

In a feeble attempt to forget the injury, she stole a glance at the inside of her wrist. Her eyes widened when she saw a blistering mark that was bound to scar over. The lines formed the shape of a winged diamond surrounded by eight points.

Closing her eyes, the young woman hung her head back and took another deep breath. Then she screamed.

She screamed until her throat was raw with salt and water and desperation

She screamed until her voice disappeared and threatened to never come back.

She screamed until everything was empty and there was nothing left but a sobering realization.

None of it was a dream. Falasil was real. Alessia was real. The island was real. Their prophecy was real. The thought pushed Valleri over the edge. She didn't bother to try to stop the flood of tears.

The amount of time that passed didn't matter anymore. Valleri pulled herself up and started walking. She'd reach home eventually.