cascade | kotlc

36. Hearsay... Some Explanations

giant expo dump... you don't really have to read this if you don't want to. don't worry, this is a double upload.

-

"You must be wondering what all of this means," a masculine voice said behind him. "Truly, I don't know either."

He does not recognize the voice. The tone is solemn, without any hint of a tease or a smirk. His words are concisely spoken, as if they were pre-planned out, written down as paragraphs on a white sheet of paper.

Fitz turns.

The first thing he notices is his beady black eyes, containing the ever so faintest trace of blue, speckles like diamonds hidden behind the veil of grey and black. They are sharp, curved at the corners, and there are creases running out, somewhat misaligned. He looks somewhat like a raven.

His hair is ruffled like a bird's nest, uneven strands bobbing up and down, in and out of existence. His clothes are plain and simple, solid colors present in blocks, and the only decoration he is wearing is a simple plaid tie.

He smiled at him. "Welcome, Fitz Avery Vacker -- or should I say, welcome back. You've been here for two years already, haven't you?"

"How do you know?" are the first words that slip from his mouth.

The man smiled again, chuckling slightly. "I'm sure you know." He tapped his watch, showing him the symbol carved into the glass, just above the ticking minute and hour hands.

The crest is a raven, spreading its wings, with two loose feathers falling from its magnificent plumage. In the bird's golden beak is a scroll, fragilely loose and bound by a single cord.

"Theron Ravenscroft," Fitz realizes, his eyes flickering upwards to meet the man's patient gaze. "But... you're supposed to be... gone."

"In your present, perhaps. But this is not the present, is it? This is the past."

"The past," he repeated. "I- I know. We're... about three, four years from when I- when I died. But- how- how does any of this work?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?"

"Yes. Yes- yes, I would. Is any of this real? Or is it just happening in my head? Is this- is this a last vision or something before death? Is this... was I really here, with- with- with June?"

Theron chuckled. "Take a seat. There are many things we must go over, starting from the basics."

-

"The first thing you must understand is the essence of Rewinding. Consider an object, any object will do. This object has its positions in space, but also its time value. Our abilities are able to alter that value. Naturally, space is dragged along, but since the object was not necessarily existent, or with any suitable value at that instant, we are also able to manipulate the resultant space."

He tapped the empty glass of slumberberry tea. "Now, I myself, I am a Diviner. I can only control the possible outcomes of this glass, whether it is filled or shattered in the future. But you. You control the past, and this glass was filled to the brim in the past. When the time value of this glass returns to that moment in time, the glass will too become full to the brim.

"You must be wondering, how? How is any of this possible? Even as elves, we are not able to generate energy at spontaneous will. Quid pro quo, as the Romans would say; something for something. In exchange for returning the time value back to the past, you must give something up to the future."

Fitz met his eyes. "That's why I always injure myself?"

"Yes. Primordial instinct dictates for the sacrifice to be made on the person. Your flesh takes on its future form, and, unfortunately, since death is not an option for us elves, there is only another possible circucumstance -- wounds, that is. Unfortunate, really. I've always wondered if we could master the ability to transfer the sacrifice. Experimented on some soil, and then some plants, but nothing seemed to function properly, but how am I supposed to know? I cannot see the past, and the future is a fickle thing. You'll often find the future is often more concerning than your past, or even the present."