The Defender of Time

Twenty-Two

"That's a valiant flea..."

"...that dares eat his breakfast on the lip of a lion." Alessia bit her lip as she looked at the water; it was early in the morning, and she and her mother were the only ones there. She just had to jump into the pond. Jump in, and swim.

Her mother sighed at Alessia's stillness. "Water will not eat you, darling," she giggled. "I promise."

Alessia swallowed hard. "I don't know. I'm afraid. What if there are sharks? I don't want to get eaten by a shark."

"Sharks live in the oceans. There are no sharks in ponds. But beware of the turtles!" Clara scooped Alessia up off the ground and jumped the both of them into the water. It was cold, and Alessia gasped at the change in temperature. Her head dunked under water, and she panicked, brandishing her arms out wildly in an effort to go back to the surface.

When she was back to fresh air, she took a deep breath and latched herself onto her mother's neck. "I'm going to die!" She wailed. "I'm going to drown!"

"No, Alessia, no, you won't drown." Clara smiled and tucked her daughter's wet hair behind her air. "See? It's nice. Cold water on a hot day." Alessia couldn't help it, and she continued to cry. Clara sighed. "Alright, then. Let's go back under." She took a deep breath for air, and Alessia felt the water pull her back down.

Then she landed.

The ground was solid under Alessia's feet; solid enough, at least. When she dared open her eyes, it took her a long moment to comprehend where she was. The crumbled walls made up the area surrounding her, and she pursed her lips. The cube in the sky. She was there.

There was a gap on her right, and she ran to it quickly to look down; two stories below, the miniaturized figures of her siblings ran around frantically on the isolated floor of what used to be the Atrium.

"Welcome,"  said a voice quietly. Alessia whipped around to see the man who had captured her standing across the room. "It did take me quite awhile to figure things out for you, but I've succeeded."

Alessia set her stance and glared at him. "Who are you?" She hissed.

He chuckled. "I am Him, dearest."

Suspicious, Alessia furrowed her eyebrows. "Who's him?"

"Me. Him, the man the world fears. The man so important, he is past the need of names."

"Him," Alessia whispered, testing the word in her mouth. With a sudden bravery that was most likely just a combination of adrenaline, instinct, and fear, she exhaled sharply. "Have you been following me?"

He brought a finger to his lips. "Quiet, dearest." He pointed above him, and Alessia followed. The ceiling above her was made of the same crowd of debris as the walls. He smirked as she looked up. "Don't be too loud. Noise will disrupt the stones, and then..." He whistled to simulate a falling object, and then made a noise like an explosion. He shrugged nonchalantly.

Alessia brought her gaze back to Him. Her voice now at a low whisper, she asked, "Why weren't my parents at the meeting?"

Something about that question was funny. He chuckled and fell backwards; the nearest pile of debris formed itself into an armed chair before he could hit the ground. "They're occupied."

"Where are they?"

There was a long moment of silence as the two stood off. It was remarkably unfair. Alessia, with her too-big robe and her glasses which slipped off her nose as she began to sweat. Him, sitting in a throne of destruction, in white trousers and a white shirt, everything neatly pressed. He must've been six feet tall. That was at least two feet and fifty years that he had on Alessia.