Time traveler: The stitch

Prolouge: The travelers scars

Hey there everyone, just for the record this is sorta a prelude to an entire series that I have written so its not neccessarily cannon and not neccessary to read. Its more or less just to catch up on the characters mindset for the story and why he does some of the things he does. 

I know pain.

I’ve felt it, I have watched it. I’ve felt fear and remorse and regret and loneliness. But that’s what my kind has to feel, it’s what we are forced to feel. It’s like some kind of sick joke that people like us have to deal with these things normal people wouldn’t even attempt to survive. But we press on, we stand taller, run faster and we fall harder; because that’s what people like us are put on this world for.

       We are called time keepers and it’s our job to protect everything, stop people from changing history, save an important person’s grandfather and die.

That’s it!

That’s all we are good for. That’s all any of us are meant to be, martyrs. My species is an endless line of martyrs. But that’s what we are here for.

       There used to be a lot of us, but that was before my time. Back when they began there was supposedly two hundred and ninety of them. But then the first war of the twelve hands, a civil war that took with it almost all of them. A time traveler wanted to overstep their place so they left, naturally they can’t be left alive if they’re not keepers so they had to be hunted and killed.

       It started with one, her name was second and she was killed almost as fast as she could betray them.

But more kept breaking the rules and more kept dying.

Until there was only twenty four left of the keepers and they kept balance in time for unknowable years, endlessly fighting the battles they weren’t truly aware of. But time takes its toll, even on those whom guard it.

One by one by one they died. It was no one’s fault in particular, just bad luck a missed step here, a landmine there, a stray bullet in between, a mission goes wrong, a traitor somewhere in their midst.

       And then there was one left; the first and last of his happy little race of time travelers. He never got a chance to mourn them, not the way they should have been. He had to keep going, keep pressing onwards and keep fighting. Because he knew if he stopped then everything that they fought and died to protect would be destroyed.

       But then he found me, a one in a trillion chance encounter with a half breed, half mortal half traveler and he asked me to help him.

So I did. And the things we did, the people we saved, the life that he let me live is honestly the best thing that I had ever done. We found others, scattered throughout the ages, lost souls that needed a home, someplace safe for them to be with their own kind. Our number rose to seven, seven travelers to fight through all of time; seven spectacular people to stand and fight an endless storm of evil.

       It’s funny how history repeats itself. Two of us went rouge and one of us died trying to stop them. Then we fought the darkened husk of another traveler and we lost another. Then came the mirror war. We battled former travelers again and again along the way and finally another of us died.

       Then it was just First and I. But something went wrong; something went terribly, terribly wrong. I found a little black journal, scribbled in the pages were the words of a mad man. It told of a sickness that claims all travelers, a wretched curse that made anything else look like a cold. First and I kept going, but I saw it. I saw it before it was even there, he was dying. Not like a man should die. Not with a disease of body or a mortal wound. But with a sickness that tears you apart without touching.

       He was dying of grief and he knew it too, he wanted his friends back, every last one of them and he knew how to do it too The whole time I had known him he was searching, searching for something that shouldn’t exist and when he found it I had to stop him. I couldn’t let his work end like that. I couldn’t let him, protecting everyone for so long, end up being the one thing to destroy them.

       So I said no. I told him to stop. I begged him. I pleaded for him to stop before something happened. But he turned on me, his companion, his friend, his brother.

       I did all I could and it hurts to say I let him down. I let my best friend down. I let him turn to dust and I watched his life slip away before my very eyes.

       I’m alone now; the last of my kind. Forced to walk these endless halls with friends watching from beyond, forced to stand and fight the tempest of time. So yes I know pain. I’ve felt it, I have watched. I’ve felt fear and remorse and regret and loneliness and that’s who I am. I am Walker and I am the last timekeeper.

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