literature

Chronomancer - Event 1: Tempus Fugit

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Tempus fugit, non autem memoria" - Time has escaped, but not memory


        Nickolas always hated that old oak tree. It only ever caused trouble, he thought. He’d gotten numerous scrapes and bruises from falling from its branches...admittedly just like his mom told him when she expressly forbade him from trying to climb it. It cast scary shadows on his window at night. One year, a hive of hornets had made a home in a knobby hole in its trunk...which they viciously protected should any hapless nine-year-old come near the tree to hide behind during hide-n-seek. At least Nickolas had learned he wasn’t allergic to bees from that traumatic experience.

        And now, it had stolen away his kite. It was a beautiful spring day, not a cloud in the sky, with a breeze that was just right for kite-flying. However, the magnificent red kite with its flashy golden tail, which Nickolas and his dad had made the weekend before, was now taking up residence in the oak tree’s limbs, its string hopelessly tangled up in twigs and leaves. Nickolas always hated that stupid, old tree. His mother told him it was very special as she had first planted it when she and his father had built the modest two-story house. It was the one fixture in the backyard that had weathered storms and droughts - which did happen from time to time in this area of North Carolina - growing to an immense, intimidating size. Nickolas, however, didn’t see the value in a hunk of wood that ate his toys. He growled under his breath as he looked up longingly at his kite held hostage. He debated kicking the trunk in anger, but quickly realized that that such a course of action would not end well considering he was barefoot.


        Summoning up all the anger he could for a raging tantrum, even though his mom told him he was too old for such things, Nickolas stomped back towards the house, entering through the sliding glass door to the screen porch and slamming it closed behind him so hard that it bounced back open again. He would go find his mom and once again profess the evils of the oak tree to her, that it needed to be chopped down immediately. She’d probably just give him that placating smile, explain the tree’s history to him for the thousandth time, and offer to get his kite down for him - which he wouldn’t object to, even if it meant losing the argument.


        However, before Nickolas could leave the screen porch, he heard an odd whirring noise, faint but definitely coming from the backyard. His pent up anger evaporating in favor of curiosity, he turned back to the half closed sliding door. His eyes grew wide as he saw a brief flash of blue light coming from near the tree, immediately followed by a soft thud. Shock held him for a moment before the young boy sprinted out the door towards the tree. From the front, nothing appeared out of the ordinary; the stupid tree’s gnarled trunk was just the same as it always was. Nickolas jumped as he heard a soft female voice coming from the other side of the tree, clamping his hands over his mouth to keep from gasping in surprise and alerting the owner of the voice to his presence. Picking up a stick lying on the ground, Nickolas cautiously crept around the tree trunk. The nine-year-old could only stare as he was met with the sight of a young woman he had never seen before in his life. She appeared to be in her early twenties with wild, wind-swept brown hair, pulled back in a messy ponytail, several strands falling loose about her face. She wore a white ruffle blouse, brown pants, black knee high boots, and a dark, jean blue, open trench coat, which had clear signs of wear. He could also see a thick belt around her waist which reminded him of his dad’s tool belt, though some of the tools on it were nothing he had ever seen before, along with what he was sure were gun holsters at each hip. The girl also wore a pair of futuristic-looking goggles with red-orange lenses, making it hard to see her eyes, as well as a pair of dark-padded gloves. She had not noticed him as she was busy fiddling with something on her left arm, which was emitting an eerie, blue glow.

        
Nickolas was not sure what to do with this stranger. Should he get his parents? They always did warn him about strangers. Should he try to protect his yard? Granted, his weapon of choice would likely not get him very far. Plus, he didn’t know how he’d feel about hitting a girl. Clueless on what to do, Nickolas just stood there gawking at the girl. The tense but awkward moment did not last long, though, as sparks suddenly flashed from the girl’s arm, causing her to wince and pull her face back and Nickolas to jump and give a small yip of fear. Though he clamped down on his tongue again, the sound had clearly caught the stranger’s attention. Her gaze immediately landed on him, her lips parting slightly in clear surprise. Her shocked expression quickly morphed in a gleeful one as she broke out into a grin and pulled back her goggles to rest on her forehead, revealing a pair of cheerful hazel eyes.

        
“Hello, dear. Didn’t see ya there! Wouldja mind tellin’ me when I am?” She spoke fast and with all the energy of a lightning bolt, oddly thrilled by the sudden appearance of the child. Nickolas was taken off guard by this, his mouth opening and closing uselessly before he finally found his voice.

        
“Uh...m-my b-backyard...” he sputtered. The girl’s smile grew bigger as she giggled and shook her head.

        “No, not where, silly, when!” she explained, “D’ya know what today is?” Nickolas scratched his head in confusion, his other arm holding his stick falling to his side.

        
“Um...Thursday?” he answered, still not understanding the girl’s odd question. Adults always seemed to know everything. How come this one didn’t even know what day it was? The girl shook her head again, though clearly she was amused by his answers.

        “Still too vague. I need the month, the year, if ya don’t mind.” Nickolas’s brows furrowed as he thought long and hard about that. He always did have trouble remembering what order the months came in.

        “July...2009, I think,” he said at last as he remembered seeing the date stamped on his father’s mail a few days ago. This answer clearly wasn’t the one the stranger was hoping to hear as her smile faded and she folded her arms across her chest.

        
“Blast...” she muttered under her breath, staring off to the side, “Not even close...” She then started fiddling with the thing on her arm again. Nickolas stretched out his neck and stood on his toes to try to get a better look at whatever the glowing object was. After the initial shock, most of his fear of the girl had worn off, leaving only innocent curiosity. She had such a lighthearted atmosphere about her and almost seemed more like a kid than an adult, eliminating any trepidation Nickolas might have once felt.

        
“What’s that?” he asked. The girl looked up from her fiddling before her gentle smile returned, and she knelt down so the nine-year-old could get a better look. Strapped to and taking up the whole length of her forearm like a gauntlet was some sort of mechanical contraption made of a polished silver metal with a couple of dials and gauges on it. A circular core of some sort was fixed in the center of the device which pulsed with a lively blue light, the source of the ghostly glow and sparks. Like many things about this girl, the machine looked alien like something from a science fiction movie, something from a different time entirely. Nickolas’ jaw dropped, his mouth forming a small “o.”

        “Wow...”

        
“It’s a temporal stabilizer, custom made,” she said, even though her words had no meaning to the young boy, “More important than life itself, this thing is t’me. Be nice if it wasn’t always on the fritz...”  A small smile quirked onto Nickolas’ face as he watched the strange machine pulse and hum. The girl’s cheeky grin grew as well as she watched the fascination grow on his face. “So, we’d best get to introductions then, yeah?” she said after a moment, moving her arm to rest on her knee and bringing Nickolas’ gaze back to her face. “Juliet Stokes, but my friends call me Tempus.” She held out one gloved hand to shake.

        Again, his parents warning about strangers briefly echoed in his head, but he ignored it. She had told him who she was, so that didn’t make her a stranger anymore...right? “I’m Nickolas,” he said before quickly adding, “But my friends call me Nicky.” Really only his mom called him that, often when she was babying him, but he felt he should give some special name since the girl had confided hers in him. He grabbed her outstretched hand, a fair bit bigger than his, and shook it firmly like he’d seen his dad do, granted with a lot more zeal.

        “Pleased to make your acquaintance,” she said, giggling again when Nickolas’ face scrunched up a bit in confusion at the large word, “It’s just my fancy way of sayin’ hello, dear.”

        “Oh! Same to you...uh...” Nickolas trailed off as another thought occurred to him. In school, most adults liked being called by their last name, usually with a Ms., Mrs., or Mr. However, that didn’t seem quite right for the adult in front of him. It felt too...stiff. “Hey, can I just call you Tempus?” he asked. The girl tapped her chin with one finger, her face becoming thoughtful though her eyes sparkled with mischief.

        
“Depends...d’ya want t’be my friend, Nicky?” she replied with a smirk. The young boy didn’t think twice before nodding his head. “Then, yes, s'much as your little heart desires!” Nickolas smiled happily at this newly cemented friendship, though he was unsure what this meant he was supposed to do next. He didn’t have long to ponder that train of thought before Tempus drew his attention elsewhere. “That yours, Nicky?” she asked, standing up and pointing up at the tree above them. Nickolas followed her finger to a glimpse of red paper in the tree’s branches. He frowned angrily as he suddenly remembered his previously forgotten feud with the mighty oak tree.

        
“Yeah! That’s my kite! My dad and me spent all last weekend making it, but then it got caught in that stupid, old tree!” he spouted, glad to finally have someone to complain about the oak tree to. The girl continued to gaze upward at the kite, cocking her head to the side.

        “I dunno. Tree’s not too bad, though that is rather unfair to pilfer your kite like that,” she looked back down at him with a radiant smile, “I’m guessin’ it would be a lot happier back home with you.” The young boy’s irritable pout instantly morphing into an eager nod was all the answer she needed. She pulled her goggles back over her eyes before winking at Nickolas, the device on her arm glowing brighter. “Don’t blink.”

        Nickolas wasn’t sure how to process what happened next. A cerulean aura appeared around the girl before she disappeared in a flash and a blur, reappearing balancing on one of the thicker branches of the tree. Her fingertips touched the tangled kite for only a split second before she vanished once again in another flash, a streak of blue light shooting back down the tree. By the time his eyes sent the message of the impossibility he had just witnessed to his brain and his brain gave the signal to gasp in shock, Tempus was once again standing in front of him as if nothing had happened sans the red kite she now grasped in one hand. If Nickolas had blinked, he surely would have missed that she moved at all.

        
“Here ya go, Nicky,” she said, holding out the boy’s precious toy to him and clearly holding back laughter at his shock.

        
“H-How...how did you...did you do...that?” Nickolas stuttered, his eyes as wide as dinner plates, “You...you disappeared!” Tempus shrugged nonchalantly, tucking a strand of hair hanging in her face behind her ear. Nickolas looked down at the crimson kite, moving a hand out to take it...if not just to make sure that it was in fact real. However, his awe tarnished into a sad frown as he noticed that once again that stupid oak tree was ruining everything. When the kite had crashed, one of the jagged branches had ripped a large tear in the red paper, making the kite now useless as a flying device. Tempus picked up on Nickolas’ somber face and looked down at the kite as well in confusion. “Now it’ll never fly! That dumb tree...” the boy muttered, nearly on the verge of tears. Nickolas considered himself not a kid anymore and grown out of girly things like crying, but he had spent so much time making that kite.

        
“Oh, that all? Cheer up, dear. That’s a easy fix!” the girl reassured him, giving him a bright smile as she patted one hand on his shoulder. Nickolas wasn’t quite sure he believed his new friend - this wasn’t the sort of tear you could just tape up - but her optimism was infectious and he offered her a very small smile in response. Tempus moved her hands to hover over the kite. The device on her arm hummed louder as a blue energy appeared around her hands, dancing across the dark material of her gloves. Her hands and the kite became a blur like before. Nickolas’ skin tingled at the odd crackle of the pulsing light.

        
When the light faded and Tempus stepped back, a satisfied look on her face, Nickolas, for likely the fourth time in the last few minutes, gasped in shock as he saw the kite now in his hands. The kite was as good as new, literally. There was no trace at all of the tear...or any other wear on the paper at all. Even the syrup he had spilled on the tail this morning at breakfast had vanished as though it had never been there. The paper was as fresh, colorful, and crisp as the day he had made it. The boy just looked up at the unexplainable girl with wide, questioning eyes, completely speechless. Tempus giggled at his expression, before kneeling down once again in front of him with a warm smile.

        
“Have ya ever heard of Chronomancy, Nicky?” she asked.

        
“Chro-no-nanty?” Nickolas repeated slowly, his furrowed brows speaking for themselves of his bewilderment.

        
“Chronomancy,” Tempus repeated patiently, “Means I can manipulate Time.”

        
“Really?” Nickolas asked excitedly, his face lighting up, “I thought that was only possible in the movies!” Tempus laughed with a nod.

        
“Of course, silly! I-” The girl’s sentence was suddenly cut off as the device on her arm suddenly started sparking angrily. Tempus stood instantly, almost knocking over Nickolas, with concern and a bit of fear in her eyes. She immediately tried to press a few buttons on the machine, but it spat back at her, the soothing blue glow emanating from it now flickering erratically. She winced, as though in pain, before holding her other hand up to her face. Nickolas blinked, not believing his eyes, as he saw the girl’s hand fading away. In fact, the girl’s entire form seemed to be fading, growing fuzzy and gray like their tv had one night during a terrible storm when the satellite was damaged, muddying the signal. Tempus was about to swear under her breath before she remembered the young ears right in front of her and settled to growl viciously instead. “Dratted thing...not now, not now!” she hissed.

        
“Tempus...?” Nickolas queried, his voice a mere whisper and his eyes wide with fear. The girl, almost transparent now, stopped in her futile attempts to fix the quickly failing contraption and locked gazes with the young boy, her smile now bittersweet but nonetheless kind.

        “I guess...this is farew--ell...for now...I’m...so--rry...N--ic--ky...” With those final words, the blue pulse blinked out like a failing heart beat and the girl disappeared entirely. Nickolas was still as a statue for a moment before shakily walking towards the space the girl had once occupied, placing a hand on the tree trunk. Tempus was gone, the only evidence that she had been there at all being the mended kite in his hand.

        “Nicky, sweetie, time for dinner!” his mom called from inside the house, shaking the young boy out of his stupor.

        “Coming, mom!” he called back. He cast one last glance at the oak tree, not entirely sure if anything that had just happened was even real. With a shrug, he ran back inside.

        As was common for most children his age when coming across something they couldn’t understand, Nickolas’ young mind distanced itself from his encounter with Tempus. His attention was eaten up by other more important things, like his mother making his favorite food for dinner: hamburgers and cheese fries. By the next morning, Nickolas had all but forgotten the mysterious young lady who had appeared under that stupid oak tree. After a week, he chalked the whole thing up to a creation of his overactive imagination.

        
That is...until a month later, Nickolas came home from school, running to the back yard to play before starting on his homework. He stopped dead in his tracks when he spotted something new about the gnarled tree. There was a blue plastic frisbee, one he recognized as throwing too hard and getting stuck in the tree two days ago, lying at the base of the trunk. A scrap of paper had been haphazardly pinned to the rough bark, just the right height for a nine-year-old boy to reach up and grab. On the paper, there were a few words written in pencil, the letters slanted and messy as though whoever had written them was in a hurry...and probably had not possessed the cleanest handwriting to begin with. It took a few minutes of squinting for Nickolas to make out the message.

Believe you lost this. Sorry I had to run without saying hi. Be back before you know it. Try not to lose any more toys ‘til then, Nicky.

 -Tempus

        Nickolas’s mom was surprised when she came home to see her son camped out in the shade of the oak’s branches working on his homework with a handful of snacks and juice boxes around him, as though he planned to be there for some time. Every so often he would look up from his math problems with a hopeful smile and eager eyes, glancing at a somewhat crumpled scrap of paper on the ground by his side before returning to his work. His mother smiled before shutting the sliding door and heading back inside, not bothering to make her presence known. She knew her little Nicky would come to appreciate the old oak tree... eventually.
***UPDATE*** 

With the short stories I've been posting lately, it made me think of this story I posted on here some time ago. Back then, it was just a one-off story but now it has evolved into its own mini-series! Hence, the whole "event" thing in the title...I'm using that instead of "part" or "chapter" because, as a time travel series, the different stories don't always happen in chronological order but I need some way of tracking them. Plus, I've made lots of edits to this since then, mainly nailing down Tempus's dialect. I figure all that is worth a psuedo-reupload! If there's any interest, I might post the rest of the stories I have so far for this series.

***END UPDATE***

*Edit: Thanks to :iconwolfmirage: for the correct translation for the Latin quote at the beginning!*

Look everyone, Dusk's not dead! 

Yeah...I know I've gone dark for a long time now (I think August was my last journal) but I've been so busy with school and clubs...and now being an assistant color guard instructor at my sibling's high school! Not a lot of free time to write or draw that's for sure... Had to go on a total game hiatus (both D&D and video games) for two weeks just to keep up with projects and midterms! So, yes, I've been meaning to become more active on here since I still have so much stuff to post and catch up on...but for one reason or another I kept pushing it off.

So consider this little story a hopeful sign of things to come. I wrote it for creative writing club, the prompt being to write something inspired by a quote...though I more wrote the story then tacked a quote on it... Anyway, it came out a lot better than I expected (a lot longer too) and I got a lot of positive feedback from my club mates, so I figured I'd share it with you all on here.

Inspiration for this story actually came from my latest obsession with the game Overwatch. I've just fallen in love with the world, the colorful designs, and all the unique characters. I could probably recite any of their 22 backstories to you on demand. In particular, I've been fascinated with Tracer, a highly energetic and courageous Time-jumper. Learning more about her...unconventional conditions for time traveling reignited my passion for other temporal wanderers such as Doctor Who and Rip Hunter (Legends of Tomorrow) and Time travel in general. For a while, I just had this itch to write about something that featured Time Manipulation...but I just couldn't figure out any plot ideas or even where to start. It wasn't until about 3 days ago while I was discussing the results of the Tracer vs Scout Death Battle with a friend of mine that suddenly this scene vividly popped into my head. Not wanting to waste the sudden clearing of my writer's block, I wrote this up...with literally zero plans on where the plot would go...which is odd considering how much planning I put into my story arcs. All in all, it didn't come out half bad!

Mini-ramble aside, I hope you guys enjoy this one. I got quite a kick out of writing Nickolas and Tempus because their personalities and odd dynamics due to their differences in age and experience are just a lot of fun. While this story was written to be a standalone...I'm considering turning it into a series since I've gotten a lot of ideas for adventures with this duo...if people showed enough interest in it. Even if it stays a one-shot, I'd still be proud of it.

Enjoy!
© 2016 - 2024 DuskLugia
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WolfMirage's avatar
Haha, I definitely liked your story! But there's one thing I gotta nitpick, and it's only because you wrote in Latin.

"Fugit" is the perfect tense, meaning either "have fled/escaped" or "fled/escaped." It's not the present tense that you used. And if you want "fly" you might want the verb volo, -are, -avi, -atus. The form you'd want, exactly, if it were present, is "Volat."
"Autem" can be used to show a contrast, but if you want "but not," you might want "sed" and for "non" to go after it. 
I think the way you used memoria is fine; it's just a bit of an odd construction.