He gazed out the window absently, as he had done countless nights before, surveying the dark streets of the suburban neighborhoods far below him. But tonight, the blue moon bathed the world in it's cold, clear light, and the air itself seemed alive, even indoors. Change was nothing new to him, and he could sense its coming.
His attention returned to the book before him, ageless hands turning the pages as he read them. Not that he was unfamiliar with it; he had read it many times over. He did not read it again out of favoritism, such an emotion seemed denied to him to those who knew him, but out of a lack of any other option available at that moment. He had read his many other volumes just as many times.
While the man knew change, more so than any other man, he did not take part in it. His age undeterminable, his daily routines unbreakable, he was a man of knowledge not time. And still to this day, after endless years, his nightly ritual remained as it was over a century ago. He remained by the window, a single reading lamp on the small table he sat at, in which he would spend the night's early hours awake with his books, reading until the clock chimes announced the end of one day and the beginning of the next.
It was five minutes until that time when his nightly ritual was suddenly interrupted.
The shadows in the quiet room seemed to part, only to be replaced by something darker and far more tangible. The figure, cloaked in black, placed his foot down in silent announcement of his reality, and the shadows closed behind him. He knew the reader was aware of him, even if he did not look up from his book to acknowledge the intruder. Still, the figure's patience could only last so long.
"Greetings, Ageless One." He spoke softly, his voice almost silky, the calming effect neutralized by the dark smile that spread across his lips. It was the only thing distinguishable about him, as the black cowl hid the rest of his features in shadow. The mysteriousness, however, was lost upon the receiver.
"Nightmare."
Knowing that was the only greeting he was going to get, the intruder continued.
"Chronicler, where is your pen? Where is the your ink? Do not tell me that you are unaware of the transactions occurring outside your window!"
"I am aware."
The Nightmare tilted his head inquiringly and began to move towards the table at which the man sat. Not the slightest sounds of his footsteps could be heard.
"If you are aware, then you know of your sibling's plans and their execution, yes? Then join them, dear sir, join us in the game!"
The man slowly closed his book and set it aside, though he still did not meet the Nightmare's eyes.
"And whose side are you on this time?"
"Side? I serve no one, for no one serves me. I am out for my benefit alone, for there is much to gain. Did you expect otherwise?"
"Then this is no game for you, trickster," the chronicler replied simply.
"It is always a game, there is little else I would take interest in."
"Then what mischief do you make?"
The Nightmare laughed mockingly and moved to the man's side. "Why, can you not see anymore? Have you truly been brought to my level in this endlessness?"
"Then you are ignorant; all things end in this world."
"Do not play omniscient with me, Chronicler! You do not know what has occurred in this world, you left, along with the others, while I remained here!"
"Shouting will get us no where, old friend. Have a seat." the ageless man offered, his attention once again out the window to the cold moon beyond.
"I'm afraid I'll have to decline. Where is your daughter, I have not seen her as of late."
"She has gone with her cousins, long ago."
"You do not pursue?"
"She will return when it suits her."
"I see."
"What are your plans, Nightmare? I know your goal, subtleties were never your strength, but your methods have been faulty in the past."
"My goal is my dream, and your solution. My methods are no different from yours," the intruder explained sweetly, countering any convincing that may have been in his words.
"Again, what mischief do you make?"
"My 'mischief', as you call it, has never been beyond my own amusements."
"Then you deny your involvement with the death of Odin's son?"
The Nightmare snorted in disgust. "The boy had it coming. Besides, what care you the lives of a few gods that came and went within your absence?"
"Your jealousy astounds me."
"That's quite a feat in itself."
"And there is one thing I can see, old friend, your lust for attention shall be the end of you."
"That's nothing new, Ageless One. I'm still waiting for that threat to be carried out."
The man glanced at the grandmother clock hanging on the wall irritably. His visitor was dawdling now, and he knew it. He finally turned his eyes to the steely ones that glittered within the shadows of the hood.
"Why are you here?"
"I see you grow weary of me. Well, had you answered the question when I first asked, I would have been gone by now. Sate my curiosity, Chronicler. Why have you not joined us in the game? Its outcome, properly done, could benefit us all."
The chronicler returned his attention to the dark sky outside his window. "Were I to take part in this so-called game, it would be from a distance, recording events that shall never grace mortal texts."
"Done then. Take up your pen, Chronicler, I have a gift for you!" And with a sound like thunder, the intruder had dropped an enormous tome onto the table, threatening to break it.
For a moment, the chronicler had gained a look of surprise, though it was replaced by a slow shake of the head. The Nightmare only laughed.
"Old friend," he said, "do you expect anything less of me? The greatest moments of history may be beginning at this moment! Would I let you anguish at having missed them?"
"The greatest moments in history that may as well lead to the end. This shall be the last book I write."
"You have said that twice now, and yet here we are. Show faith in these mortals, they have proved their mettle before." The Nightmare bowed and backed away as the clock began to chime. His mouth twisted into a triumphant smile, he said:
"It has begun, the end in some form or another. Perhaps we shall turn the page and find the greatest of ages ahead of us? Whose hands shall bring it? Or will there be nothing but endless grey to meet our footsteps? Unfortunately, the choice is not ours to make!"
And he was gone with the last chime, as swiftly as he had come.
The ageless man stood and was about to retire for the night, as he had done every night before. There was no sign that the intruder had ever been there, aside from the book lying upon the table. He stared at it for long moments, his muscles tense as if prepared to carry him to his bed.
But then he knew the voices and the sights. The passing of time that he was not a part of still affected the world around him, and vast knowledge and events were being wasted with every moment. Opening a drawer built into the table, he pulled out a pen and sat back down.
Opening the book to the first clean, white page, he began to write.
Today, at three minutes into the twenty-first hour, the First Mark to the key of the Amphithelion was found…
Muaha, today is a day the world shall rue: I am 18! Bahahaha! Ahem, but that is of no importance. Now here's a chapter that is supposed to explain things, but probably just makes no sense. It makes sense to me, of course, but I don't count. As you can see, some things are going to stretch beyond DL and into other things that I think would affect the story. Yeah.
A big Thank you! to SilentJealousy for always helping me out and telling me when ideas are stupid. Another to Pen D. Fox for pointing out some character flaws I need to fix.
I'm trying to cut back on annoying author notes, so quick answers to questions:
Yes, those are Rheas' boxers. - Nah, I'm more pathetic than any of you. So there! - I write this in Microsoft Word in .doc format on one big sheet, so I just click the button to make it italic. I then convert in to html and crop it down to the chapter I want. It's usually doesn't mess with my formatting then. - I have no clue how to actually pronounce Thom's last name properly, and I just found out I've been spelling it wrong the whole time anyway. It's "Aelfgar" and is an Old English name meaning "elf spear"
And on a final note, I'm retracting the Imare' question, it's not really a fair question and it's already been answered correctly anyway. The reason I asked was because I like to know what you guys are thinking, because I thought it was overly obvious and I was worried. Either that or I just asked the question badly. I just don't want it to seem like I was review-whoring or something. I'm sorry everyone ^^;;, but thank you for your reviews and enthusiasm. As an apology, I shall write the next chapter, the big fat juicy one that it is, as quickly as I can and actually shoot for under a month. Any questions asked in the future will probably be for opinions or a lot less obnoxious.
Thank you for your patience everyone.