Finding

(24) Mourning and Sundays

Years again pass by and somehow, as much as he had already mourned for Thomas' death, Tord still ends up crying because of the man.

How many times has it been already?

Dreams would sometimes plague him and the guilt that he would feel for being the cause of the brunet's death would swallow him in ways that the only way he could somehow vent out was crying. He'd cry for how he was a terrible friend. He'd cry for being a dreadful boss. Most of all, he'd cry for being such an awful lover.

Thomas deserved more.

He deserved so much more.

And yet, the man never really had anything else but him.

It was pathetic, seriously so, that uncontrollable tears were flowing out of his face.

In his hands was the blood of the person who willingly gave anything and everything for him.

Thomas...

Tom....

Tord tried to bite back more of his sobs and burrowed himself deeper in his bed.

"Why?

Why did you have to sacrifice yourself for me, Thomas?

You could have more.

So much more that you didn't deserve to have me and die just like that."

With that, more and more tears fell. Tord's sobs became louder and it looked like to the silvernette that he might be crying himself again to sleep for another night.

___________________________________

"It isn't working.

Why isn't it working?" Tord angrily growled as he threw another failed time travel device onto the cold marble floor.

That so far, as much as he was now able to create a well functional spell and spell diagram that could safely fuse two souls and work together in one body, the time travel device is what's hindering him from going to the time that he wanted.

For some odd fucking reason, it wouldn't work.

No matter how many times he checked the calculations and made sure they were correct or used stronger materials for the device's components; it would always back fire. Heck, he had already made before two functioning time travel devices. But now? Nothing was working.

Even if he followed everything from his memory and made sure things were right it would blow up for no reason.

It was frustrating. Terribly so.

He had now been in this time period for about fifteen years.

He was now able to study quite a number of things about magic and find different kinds of artifacts. Hell, he was even able to get the inheritance of a great mage, from another realm who enjoyed going to different planes to study mana and magic, from one of his travels. But he still wasn't capable of making a god damned stupid time travel device from working.

Taking a deep breath, Tord forced himself to calm down and answer the knocks that was going on his laboratory door. So, he got up and opened it to find a twelve-year-old Asher dressed up in a white long-sleeved dress shirt and black shorts with suspenders along with white ankle length socks and black leather shoes.

Blinking his lone uncovered green eye, he asked, "Asher, my child. Why are you currently dressed up like that?"

"Father, it's Sunday today and we'd be going to church remember?"