57: Time's Playground

When I was little, five boys from my village were taken away to be enlisted into the king's army. When they were returned to their parents their broken lifeless bodies were veiled by white cloths and paraded through the village. Warriors, they were called. Heroes, their parents received many medals for their brave sacrifice. Children, their lives barely lived.

Dad promised he'd never have me go. Not his kids. He served time for our sake, despite his age. And even to this day, that guilt hangs on my heart. Because he tried his best to hide what the war did to his body and still insisted I avoid the heavy work. Always told me to keep my hands delicate, that he wouldn't be able to bare having to marry me off with such hands. I never listened of course. Not when he took my burdens for me.

And now I understand better than ever why he did what he did.

"How old were you during your first battle?" I asked Philip at an attempt to fill the silence of our dismal surroundings.

He didn't respond for a moment. Then he let out a dry laugh. "A kid. A dumb kid. Barely made it out alive. But I was stubborn and I went back, again and again. Whatever could have happened it was all on me."

"But you left willingly, right? You weren't injured or anything?"

"Worried about your man I see." I could practically hear the smirk in his voice. I groaned and he laughed. "My dad didn't want to lose his only kid to the war. He only allowed me so many years before he guilted me into leaving."

"Your father," I said hesitantly, "where is he now?"

"We're originally from a beach side village in Lotus, he's currently keeping himself busy so to not start thinking about me or his runaway wife. He's a worrier, my old man."

"I guess I know who you get that from."

He laughed and I broke out into a grin. "I guess so."

The horse clip-clopped through the ruins towards our destination.

"Do you think Lady Higgins will be back by the time we return?"

He hesitated. "I can't be certain. But, I know for sure that that woman will return. And we will too, I promise you that."

As soon as we turned the corner of the abandoned town we were met by a dense forest buzzing with life and emanating something older, something distinct from the living and dead. Certainly not magic. Something unlike anything I've felt before alive. Something very similar to Death.

"What is this place?" I whispered.

"They call it Time's Playground." His voice had dropped and became heavy and careful. "Beyond it lies Ogalsia."

"Why aren't there any barricades then?" If Dad's tales by the fire were any truth then Kreatier and Ogalsia's borders were heavily guarded constantly.

"Because it is it's own barricade. No man dares to lay claim upon the property of such a primal being as Time."

The horse whined and halted at the entrance. He threw his front feet in the air and turned wildly. I latched onto Philip to keep from slipping off.

"It's alright boy," Philip cooed, "we're not going in."

The steed calmed enough that Philip climbed off and helped me down. As soon as my feet met the ground, a chill skittered up spine and filled me with a sudden urge to enter the forest. As if Time itself were extending its arms towards me, reaching to grasp what it owned.

"Don't," came Philip's voice, "fall for its traps. You don't belong to it."

A tremor crawled towards us. Cyr, Nareem and Dolce arrived. They dismounted and approached us.

"Time's Playground is a terrain mortals have relentlessly attempted to conquer," Cyr said. "But Time is no gullible being. It will never allow the day we take its abode. We will continue on foot but before we enter it is of utmost importance you take this warning to heed: never take what belongs to Time, for it is not of the forgiving kind."

Dolce raised an arm and dragged it back to his side, leaving in the wake of his thin fingers a line of black that slowly stretched to his length. He eyed Philip nodding. "If you will assist me with the animals?" His voice was low and grating.

Philip led the horses forward, murmuring sweet things as they entered the empty blackness one after the other.

"Where did you send them?" I asked.

"Back home," Dolce answered and returned his attention to Cyr.

And then we entered. The forest floor was carpeted by moss, moist and squishy to the touch. The air was full and fresh, smelling of earth and new leaves. The forest canopy only allowed so much light that evening came early under its cover.

For a moment I let myself think that the forest seemed almost ordinary.

If the forest had once been trasspassed, it was most probably a hundred years prior. Or maybe even yesterday and the forest had its own way of erasing tracks, returning it to its original form.

A shrub rustled beside me. A hare hopped out. If it's size was any indication of its age, it was a mere baby. It bounded off and with every leap it grew larger and larger and then smaller and smaller till it vanished completely.

"It is said that even Death has never stepped foot in this place," Philip said, beside me.

"So every living thing in this place, is immortal?"

"What is eternal life if all you'll ever be is Time's plaything," Dolce said ahead of me.

For a while, maybe hours or just a half—it was difficult to tell, we walk wordlessly.

Finally I worked up to courage to approach Cyr. He walked confidently and with ease, but his gaze roamed our surroundings, taking in everything in our path.

I began to speak when he spoke instead. "Yes December, I understand you might have your queries as to why a rebel would travel to another kingdom?"

"I was just curious, is all." I shrugged feebly.

"Of course, forgive me for not properly informing you before we departed."

I shook my head and matched his pace.

A small smile graced his sharp features. "His Majesty King Edward is a good friend of mine. When I was made an outlaw he welcomed me into his kingdom as an ally. We shared a common enemy, of course. I hope to meet him and seek his assistance."

"I see," I murmured. Though that revelation opened the jar of a hundred other questions.

"I have chosen each of you for a purpose, if that's what's on your mind."

"Actually" —I gulped—"I was wondering what is to become of those that were captured, the generals?"

Something almost identical to sympathy flickered in his eyes before they hardened again. "For my next step, it is crucial they stay locked away. They would be a hindrance to my plans otherwise."

We seemed to walk for eons before night arrived. And when it did we finally stopped to rest. Nareem handed out portions of smoked meat and bread, and I made a fire to warm us for the night. I suppose, that was my purpose, I could provide warmth. Cyr reiterated that even so much as breathing the smoke from the forest wood would keep us trapped in Time's Playground. I didn't dare take my chances.

Philip took first watch and urged the rest of us to rest. But the unnatural silence of the forest didn't allow for a good night's sleep, as ironic as that sounds. The emptiness welcomed the unknown, and if Time had come to play we would never have known.

When I woke, which meant I had somehow somewhat slept, Philip was leaning over me. But he seemed different.

One, his features seemed to have regressed to a teenage version of him. Two, his gaze showed no sign of recognition, I was a stranger to him. Three, he was holding a knife to my throat.

"Scream and I slit your throat," he sneered, "who are you? And why am I here?"

"Philip—"

The knife drew closer. "How do you know my name?"

I pushed my back off the ground and slowly raised my hands over my head. "It's me Mo. I, you're, we're..." What exactly were we?

"Are you a knight?" His eyes narrowed but his hand remained with a knife aimed for my throat.

"I'm..." I wasn't. Any sort of rank or title in the army Philip had made up for me I had not a clue. But he seemed to have forgotten that and me. Or maybe he thought he didn't know me.

"Give me one reason why I shouldn't end you here, right now?"

Against my will a puff of flames left my mouth in a flustered exhale. His dark eyes, illuminated by the firelight, widened. He ducked but his knife grazed my chin and barely missed my lips.

But then Philip dropped unconscious and standing before me now was a young man. He gave me his hand when recognition flashed in his eyes.

"Myira?" He said. And the young man, I realized then, was Cyr.

A/n: I have a lot of plot twists up my sleeve so get ready. Although you might have already guessed it. I really hope I'm able to finish Scales and Swords. Because it's come further than I had expected. I don't have a specific limit to the chapters but I promise it will end, this won't go on forever. I guess I've reached a point where I'm just writing what I'd like to read so I don't mind when I don't get lots of reads or votes. Anyhow, what are your thoughts? What do you to think will happen next or in the end?