CHAPTER SIX: A flaw in the plan.
After 3 days of meditation and consulting the grimoire, Weaver finally rose from the ground. His back and joints popped noisily, and he let out a wince of pain. "I'm getting far too old for this." He grumbled, holding the book open in one palm and massaging his lower back with the other.
Nevertheless, when he retreated to the raised plinth at the end of the hall, he stood upright without even a hint of discomfort. His face was set and determined.
He set the book on the plinth, shook back his sleeves and raised his arms to the ceiling. Within seconds, the hall was bathed in pulsating blue light, seeming to emit from the old Guildmaster himself. Weaver was calling on the power of the Chamber of Fate, a colossal power in its own right.
Slowly, he began to chant words in an ancient tongue, the words stringing together to form something that resembled song. His voice echoed off the stone walls of the Chamber, making it seem as though hundreds of voices joined the song, adding their own disjointed and discordant harmonies to the tune.
A vicious wind swept through the chamber, and the blue light drifted from Weaver's hands towards the Seal in the centre of the room. It formed a vast column in the very centre of the chamber, and the walls shook with the energy pulsating from the light.
Weaver's chanting stopped, but the energy and the wind did not die out. If anything they intensified. Seeming to wait on a cue from the wizened old Hero.
Just as Scythe had done when he had resurrected Weaver, the old Hero now spoke a single name. The name of the Jackslayer. That name was….
"David Chase!" Whisper's voice echoed through the Entrance Hall of the Heroes Guild, the young dark skinned Hero jogging lightly up the steps towards the map table. "FARM BOY!"
The boy who would grow up to be the Hero of Oakvale stopped, his hand on the iron ring of the front doors, and turned, a smile growing on his face. "Do you mind, Whisper? I'm on important Guild business, you know."
"Oh don't give me that, farm boy." She teased, giving him a playful push. "Important Guild business indeed. Off to throw drunks out of the Bowerstone Tavern, no doubt."
"As a matter of fact, I'm escorting two traders through the very deadly paths of Darkwood." He said, lifting his nose in a rather snooty fashion. "You've probably never been to Darkwood. They only send the best and bravest in there."
"Oh?" Whisper raised a brow imperiously. "Then why would they send you? Surely the best and bravest don't leave the Guild without their Guild Seals."
David shot her a quizzical look, tilting his head slightly to the side. "Forget their…" His expression changed to something that resembled mild panic, and he began patting his pockets hurriedly. "Rats! I knew I forgot something!" he made to sprint off towards his room, and then skidded to a halt when Whisper called back to him, nearly knocking over another Hero who was perusing the map table for quests. ("Watch where you're going, Chicken Chaser!" muttered the disgruntled hero.
"Relax, Davey. I brought it for you. Here." She held the golden disc out to him. "Honestly, you'd forget your head if it wasn't screwed on."
"Thanks, Whisper, I owe you one." David said, giving her a pat on the back and accepting the Seal. "Tell you what, when we get back from the Barrow Fields markets, I'll help you fix that little problem with your fighting stance so it's not so easy for me to beat you when we train."
"You're on, farm boy." Whisper said with a grin and a wink, pulling the door open for the young Hero. "Best run along. Those poor defenseless Traders need their brave and mighty hero." She swept him a comical bow, chuckling under her breath.
David gave her a half-hearted shove as he jogged out of the doors and up the road. Past the podium where a hero was boasting loudly to the people that he could take down a whole Hobbe cave in his underwear, up the hill and along the tree lined path towards Lookout Point.
There was a Cullis Gate right before the borders of Greatwood, and this was where the Traders would meet him. To save time, he grasped the Guild Seal, and he glowed with blue mana.
He was focused on the Cullis Gate, right on the edge of Greatwood, when he heard a voice. It was the Guildmaster, Weaver. And he said two words.
"David Chase."
The column of light in the centre of the Chamber solidified, and out from it's velvety blue depths stepped Chicken Chaser.
The boy's eyes widened as he stared around at the cavernous Chamber, the Guild Seal falling from his hand with an echoing clank. His gaze danced across the battered portraits and collages of the life he would never live, the dilapidated ceiling, the broken floor. Then up to Weaver.
Weaver was staring at him in disbelief. 'No, this can't be right. I followed the spell to the letter. But he can't be older than 18.' He thought to himself.
"G-Guildmaster!" Something that resembled fear cut through David's surprise; The look on Weaver's face made him feel like he'd just teleported into the Guildmaster's private chambers. "I'm ever so sorry, sir! I was heading out to Greatwood, and I'm not sure what happened. I just… Arrived here."
No reply from the old Guildmaster. He was transfixed. The boy seemed not to realize what had happened.
"I didn't mean to come… Here." He glanced around the chamber again, and his youthful intrigue got the better of him. "Um, where are we, sir?"
Weaver heaved a sigh. "We are in the Chamber of Fate, lad." He said, slowly walking towards the young hero. "It is an ancient Chamber, built underneath the Guild. But the question I feel you should be asking is 'When are we'."
David's face worked in confusion for a moment, still having no idea what Weaver meant. "When, Guildmaster?" he repeated the question. "What do you mean, 'When'?"
"If I'm right in assuming that you are a little under a year past graduating, then 'when' happens to be more than 3 and a half thousand years in the future."
Dead silence met this rather grim statement. David furrowed his brow, not sure if Weaver was joking, or perhaps pulling a prank on him. The look on the old man's face was enough to tell him that this was no joke. "But… But how?"
The old man sighed again, resting his hand on the boy's shoulder. How could he tell him that he, Weaver, dragged him from the past to fight a battle he'd already fought? Or, would have fought. Damn, this whole mess made Weaver's head hurt. "I will explain everything in due time. But for now, please head upstairs and practice your lessons."
"But Guildmaster, I…"
"Please, Lad." He said again. "Head upstairs and work on your lessons." He needed a few moments alone to gather his thoughts. How could he explain what has happened?
The boy looked as though he was on the verge of protesting, but instead nodded glumly. "Yes, Guildmaster." He gripped the sword at his waist and turned on his heel, heading up the stairs and out of the Chamber.
Weaver sank into a chair beside the plinth, his head in his hands. What had gone so wrong? He had done everything he had to in order to revive the mighty Hero. Had there been a flaw in the spell?
As he pondered, the column of light in the centre podium burst forth again, and Weaver lifted his wide eyes towards it.