Volume V: The Tragic End of Treason

Chapter 20. Winding Down

            So I went back home. Toryn was missing, probably went back to her own place. I hadn’t really expected her to stay, then again, I hadn’t expected her to go.                                

            So where the hell to go from here? Up or down? I felt alone in a world of constant shifts and madness. I’d met the legend himself, Draven. I would keep record of what had come to pass because it was my job. But why? What allegiance did I owe the Endless? Their empire was crumbling from beneath them, so why should I care? I don’t see reason to.

            It’s a bizarre sensation to wake up and find nothing as you left it, everything scattered and in pieces. And bizarre shifts to horrifying when you discover that it’s not a dream. I tried to make myself believe that this most disturbing vision of the world would give way at some point, it would twist and fade, disappearing as vapor into the air. But as the days pressed on and no such option occurred, the hard truth slowly made itself permanent. I had killed Galat. I was killing Toryn. But I had reason. I had justification. They had betrayed me. But I’d betrayed them as well. Answer one sin with another and eventually it’ll all fade to black? I don’t see how that

could work, it can’t, it’s not a rational argument. But then again, it’s the best I’ve got. All I have is my irrational ranting and my insane ideas. So I guess I’ll have to make due somehow.

            The moods come and go, there’s no time or words for them. I’d explain in proper detail what’s going on in my mind, but the madness won’t let me take hold. It wouldn’t give in to the pressure and I’m left with a tempest of emotion that rise and fall so rapidly that I’m left to weakly wonder what part of the spectrum I should be at. It’s like throwing darts blind. I’m not sure where they’re supposed to go, or where they land, but I have to keep throwing them regardless. My mind manifests dreaming and nightmares, waking and otherwise, and I am powerless to counteract my own spells of delusion. My heart cries out for release from the prison I’ve buried it in, deep below the reflections of the surface, because only that far down am I safe. Without a heart to speak clearly, without a conscience to scream soundly, I am free.

            I am a murderer. I am a traitor and a sinner and a criminal.

            But I am Havok. Take me as I am.

            Try as I might, my thoughts won’t sit still and play to the ideas that cycle though my subconscious. The voices and indecisions are racing through my skull, daring to be free, and I act blindly because I have no conviction. I know not consequence. I have no care for the variables or conditions; only that I can and will do what I motivate myself to do. Whether it be to create or destroy, it will be done as I’ve decided. There are none to stop me, I owe no allegiance to anyone, and with this in mind, I’ll live my life as I desire to. I have but one more obstacle in my path, and that is Toryn.   

            Toryn. Somewhere in my soul I can feel compassion burning a hole through myself. I can remember the love I had for her, the respect and admiration that once drowned my entire being. I can think back fondly on times where she’d smile at me carelessly, as if she were numb to this world’s pain and all others; that smile could answer anything. I loved her as much as my blackened heart could allow and she seemed to care bout me. She seemed to genuinely wish the best for me. But I now know the truth. I know what really came to pass. The rest have already been punished, she is all that remains of my punishing party.

            I’m taking this time to rant because I’ve been neglecting to sit and think. All this time I’ve been thinking rashly, doing everything on the spur of the moment. The climax is brewing, the final eruption is en route. I might as well try and get my morals and my madness in sync for the upcoming war.

            I went and walked, without purpose or reason. Because I had to keep moving. Because I, like the many fictions before me, had a demon raging inside that could only be quieted by consistency. Only by soothing that beast could I retain that small fragment of myself. I paced up and down, through familiar streets, ignorant of purpose. I passed by the Dragon, looking in from the outside, feeling a stranger in this world of ever shifting grey. The Drakes were there, as were Pike and Syn. They were all getting older, changing, as people are meant to do. Nothing remains the same, nothing is without shift or purpose. There is age because time is a necessity in some form. Or maybe I’m just a fool. It’s easily possible. I looked in, an outsider peering in on their world, from the madness and mayhem, in to the peace and calm of their fictitious joy. They would suffer, as we all would. I moved to keep going when a hand pulled me back. Syn looked at me curiously.

            “Your business?” she asked quietly, almost silently with her eyes.

            “I am the Timekeeper.”

            “Are you?”

            “Yes.”

            “Who appointed you as such?”

            “Myself.”

            “Why?”

            And I stopped. It was an honest inquiry. And it only further proved my ignorance. I didn’t honestly know. I couldn’t remember how or why I got into this line of work. I couldn’t recall what motivated me to this point. I couldn’t pinpoint the time or place when I put my foot down and decided on this course of action. I couldn’t remember who suggested such an insane hobby to me. But the more I considered it, the more my conscience screamed Toryn’s name. Who else would want me kept so “conveniently” distracted? Who else would go through all that trouble to keep me in the cage? Only she would have the...influence to push me so far so hard. And yet, I had no proof. No solid evidence. Nothing but my corrupt moral deductions. Isn’t that a damn shame.

            Syn turned and walked off just as simply as she’d come, gone without a sound. What her purpose was, I don’t know. Whether she ever had one, I couldn’t be sure. She was that kind of girl, here one minute and gone the next. She was like that for as long as I’d known her, it was all I’d ever heard of her. She kept mostly to herself, letting nothing of value or significance pass. She kept her hopes, fears, ambitions - everything she possessed - locked down deep in the depths of her heart, hidden away from Pike himself. Their relationship was beneficial on both sides because neither had a proper place in this world. It was a love created out of necessity. See reference - The Endless.

            So I went home and sat there, my mind a blur of thoughts and ideas. I sat and considered my limited options. I cleaned the guns while I thought, having nowhere else for my mind to wander. I sat and read the obituaries that spanned my walls. I read them silently to myself, repeating the names of the lost and martyred to myself, knowing that I would never be as respected as they. I, the sinner and madman, I would go down in history with Cicero and Vincent, ruthless and brutal - my name would never be known in reverence. None would recall my suffering with admiration. None would remember the lies I endured at the hands of those I loved and trusted. My good name would be lost because it was I alone who could save it - I traded it in for more bullets. My good name, my honest title, I forsook early on; Toryn’s life was mine, I held it in reserve. I would trade hers for mine, I would take back my freedom. And I’d start again. In another time, another place. Let the fools find another Timekeeper; my duties are nearly complete. And without me, there is no Time. Only Death.