Galahad Percival Fauste couldn't sleep. But that wasn't anything particularly new, not since Shelliana Masten had fallen at Hogwarts. When that happened, Galahad had spent his family's fortune, bartering ancient magics for new spells. He traded state secrets about Hogwarts for the wards around Brakebills. He swindled a couple coffee based divination spells for the most obscure chronomantic texts. He had to find the right spell to fix it all and he had to stay a step ahead of the aurord and the various magical bounty hunters, many of whom had graduated professionally at Brakebills. Galahad smiled cruelly at the thought. He was always adept at academia and now he was unstoppable in his voraciousness.
He had researched every bit of magic he could get his hands on and when he wasn't chosen for the heist to retrieve the chatwin briefcase, he tipped off the order of the neitherlands. He knew it would be worth his while in the end. He had spent so much time and almost his entire family fortunes when he met her. It had been a long road and his hands were stained with so much blood, but he knew, as he stood in this strange land on the threshold of this strange cottage made of strange clocks, that his efforts were not in vain. So he knocked.
He had knocked before, of course. This wasn't the first time, but it was certainly the last.
"Jane, I'm not leaving until we get this right! I know you need help perfecting the spell! I know you're running out of time!"
Jane Chatwin practically ripped the door of it's hinges as she came like a storm to face this boy of not yet even twenty.
"You're early this time."
Galahad waved aside the comment and thrust a tattered leather grimoire into her hands, bits of bound printer paper, sheets of wide ruled notebook paper, and parchment all hastily cobbled together into a tome of only the most comprehensive time spells. "And I was late last time. Time is irrelevant for us, not with so much at stake. I got it right this time. It took some tweaks, but I can't promise that you'll get more than forty. And you'll have to tweak it every time so the butterfly effects won't be too terrible. But I perfected it. But I want to make a request. I don't want to remember this time. I'm tired of the fight. I enjoy working with you, but I can't do this anymore. I can't be your agent across timelines..."
Jane nodded, sadly. "I know. It was mere a matter of time.
Galahad scowled and rolled his eyes. "Puns aside. I need to live my life and this time, I've fixed it. But there's a problem..."
Jane Chatwin nodded. "You won't be able to remember."
"No, I can't. Once I step back into the time stream, I can never know about our work."
The woman eyed Galahad. "Thank you for your help, Galahad. This has meant the world to me. But I really have to wonder. Is she worth it? Truly?"
Galahad could barely remember his best friends' face. He couldn't quite remember the last hug of his grandfather. But if this was all for nothing, the. what was the point?
"Yes. She's worth everything to me and I won't let her die this time. I've come too far, done too much, and lived in the shadows of my forefathers for far too long. It's time for the Faustes and the Chatwins to take a step back and fix some of the things we've broken..."
Jane Chatwin nodded sadly. "You're right, of course. And you're far too old for a boy of nineteen, but I can try to make things a little easier. When you get to when you need to be, and you're better for it, I can get you a seat into Brakebills..."
Galahad cut her off. "No. If she survives, give it to her. You know what happens, if I get that knowledge..."
Jane Chatwin frowned but nodded. "Are you ready?"
"As I'll ever be..."
Reciting a spell from the book that Galahad had given her, Jane began winding the clocks in her house in reverse. And when she was done, time flowed backwards around them. The book seemed to shudder and sigh, a significantly older man, world weary and with sad knowing eyes crawled out of its pages
"The Binder was frustrated that his younger self had to be noble and sacrifice everything, but he could at least understand why Galahad had done it. It had been lonely for The Binder, becoming the epitome of knowledge. But Jane Chatwin knew that The Binder, and the secrets it held, must not fall into the wrong hands. Nor must The Binder's secret ever be revealed. The Binder had a role to play later..."
Jane Chatwin smiled softly at The Binder. "I know, Galahad. We have much work to do."
"The Binder, being a workoholic, naturally agreed and began dictating possible alterations that would be crucial to the new timelines..."
