The Penalties of Time - #BattletheBeast SyFy Contest - The Magicians

The Penalties of Time - The Magicians #BattleTheBeast

Time is a funny thing. Sometimes an entire day feels like just a few hours. Other days drag on, like nails scraping across a never-ending chalkboard. That's the ripples of Time Magic spilling into our world from places like Fillory. Occasionally, these time spells are so strong that you relive moments, sometimes entire days, with small fragments of the recurring days trickling back into your mind as distant memories.

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"Alice, I need you to do this," Quentin pauses for a moment, slowly running his hand up the back of her left arm, resting it on her shoulder. "For me."

Alice nods in agreement and smiles, running ahead of the group.

The group rushes for cover from the distant, but quickly approaching sound of cracking, and bright flashes of light. Penny and Margo are carrying Eliot as he struggles to stand from a tree that fell and broke his leg.

"We've got to make it to the Wellspring. He's not far behind, I can feel him getting closer." Quentin urges from the front of the group with Julia. He and Julia look back every few seconds. Behind them, an advancing tidal wave of moths crashes over the treetops, turning everything it touches into granite.

Margo steps in a hole, bringing Eliot and Penny down with her. Eliot lets out an excruciating howl as Penny stands up and attempts to pull him back to his feet.

"You've got to try and get up man, he's coming!" Penny says, jerking on his arm. "I hear him laughing in my head!"

Eliot forces himself to his feet, fumbling to find Margo's hand. Her quiet moans of pain grab his attention and he turns to help her stand. The onslaught of moths behind them are forming a path of permanent stone trees and animals, bound for the group.

"Quentin Coldwater...." an ominous voice echoes from the sky. "When are you going to learn? I. Am. All. Powerful."

Quentin yells back, "YOU DON'T CONTROL MAGIC! YOU DON'T CONTROL US!"

A deep laugh bellows from the sky, shaking the ground. "We'll see Coldwater. We'll see."

The giant wave of moths is descending headlong, closer and closer, directly toward the five of them. Quentin throws his hands in the air, forming hand signals, desperately clawing at hope of a spell that could save them. Sparks shoot from his fingertips, then, nothing.

The group huddles together. They all start screaming, closing their eyes, waiting for the attack.

Closer and closer.

The moths are crashing downward.

Just before touchdown, a blue orb surrounds the group, protecting them from their impending deaths. The tidal wave of moths, freezes in mid-air. Quentin, Julia, and Penny are the first to stand. Margo and Eliot follow-suit, searching for their savior.

"I figured you guys could use some help," says a feminine voice from the hilltop. "We don't have much time. I need each of you to run to me as soon as I say go. Ready? GO!"

Margo and Penny grab Eliot and run toward the hilltop. Quentin follows Julia, looking back at the motionless moths. The trees and clouds are still. The birds are stuck in mid-air. Quentin turns and looks up the hill to see the silhouette of a woman.

"Who are you?" asks Margo, wiping dirt from her face and primping her hair.

"The Watcherwoman" Quentin says, pushing to the front of the group, finding a spot beside Julia.

The woman steps forward and removes a small stopwatch from her pocket. The second hand is ticking in a repetitive back and forth motion, "I can only hold time still for so long. Get as far from this hilltop as you can, as quickly as you can."