Time Lapse

Chapter 16 ~ Piece of Recollection ~

Four years ago...

After another day spent working with dragons, Atlas collapsed to his knees. As the beast crept through the cracks beneath Histolytica, he found a deep crevice that not even its fiery breath could reach him. "Why do I have to do this?" he muttered, biting his chapped lip in frustration. "It's not like I can kill her pet without a weapon." He slumped to his side, exhausted.

The air was dusty but calm, and he curled into a ball to rest. Three days underground had messed with his sense of time, and he worried about missing his five-day deadline. "If only I could use it..." Atlas pondered, staring at the dark wall before him. Despite the dim surroundings, the distant sound of dripping water provided a soothing white noise that masked his presence from the dragon's acute hearing.

Closing his eyes, Atlas focused on summoning the faintest light from nothing. He concentrated on the flow of magic in the air. Though Gestalt was low on magic due to the oppressive darkness, he could still sense a stream of aether. The flow grew stronger as he drew closer to the underground ancient city. He converted the aether into a usable magic supply using the techniques and skills he had been taught.

His master's words echoed in his mind: Matter is all around, consisting of various particles. Aether is alike, made up of several layers of magic. They're one and the same and can be used as such. Though he knew the intake of aether could be toxic if misused, it was an easy fix for an amateur caster like himself. Still, he reminded himself not to underestimate the complexities of magic and aether, which had their own ways of operating individually and together. It was best to stick to the fundamentals.

"Shhh," a heavy breath echoed through the underground tunnels. The dragon was finally asleep.

Atlas had always read in toems and heard from his master that dragons only sleep when they plan to rest for years on end. For some odd reason, however, this one took breaks whenever Atlas did. It was as if the beast moved the moment Atlas started moving again.

"Gahh, what even is Matter?" Atlas asked, scowling in frustration as the dragon slept peacefully. Somewhere, down the tunnels beneath Gestalt, the breathing whistled like a hot breeze, contrasting the cool and dusty air. Though Atlas had only a few encounters with the scaly beast, he'd never seen its form in the dark tunnels. It was forced to move through the more extensive clearings, occasionally causing the tunnels to shake from their old age as it pushed through, typically while chasing Atlas.

Nestled in his bed, Atlas tried to ignore the beastly wyrm lurking in the tunnels, resting and waiting for him to begin his trek to the ancient city.

After only an hour or two of sleep, it was time to remove the false rock in the wall and head back into the wet tunnels. But something irked Atlas, sending a shiver down his spine and a feeling of caution through his entire body.

The dragon's breathing had stopped.

Usually, he could get a half-hour head start, but the dragon woke up first this time. Was it even possible for a dragon to take such a short nap? Its behavior was unnatural for its kind. Maybe it was a sign that he was getting closer to the city, growing more territorial...

Creak. The heavy rock cover in the wall dropped off, hitting the ground with a loud thud that echoed through the shaft. There was too much noise not to have been heard.

Run, Atlas told himself, jumping into a full spring and crawling out of the tiny aperture. He tried to pop his neck, but it was too sore from the narrow sleeping hold. He listened closely to the sound of the creature's large feet rattling down the halls. Nothing.

It wasn't enough comfort to stop his sprint, though. Why was each beast he ran from more significant than the last? It simply wasn't fair! Yet life had a way of bringing him the toughest battles as if pushing him toward more remarkable achievements. Not to slay the dragon but to make it to the ancient city and back without straying for longer than five days. What didn't help was that his spirit friend couldn't give him directions. "Die as few times as possible," Atlas had been ordered. He wasn't to rely on his regenerative powers from his fey curse and to let it fade away sooner.