Chapter 66 - [Time]

“You are?” Beltane asked, shock evident in his voice. “Never in my wildest dreams would I have guessed that the Messiah would be aware of his own status.”

“I wouldn’t use the word ‘Messiah,’” I said, “but ‘emissary sent by Death to prevent the end of the world’ is an accurate and precise description of me.”

“Are you an angel? Have you ever met Death?” Beltane asked, zealotry and childish joy playing equal parts in his tone.

“Yeah,” I chuckled. “I met the guy… once.”

The image of the Cagliostro’s ceiling crashing down upon my miniscule body played through my head. Oh, yeah. I had met Death before.

“You’re telling the truth,” Beltane’s mouth was agape. He must have been using [Lie Detection] on me. Apparently, Beltane’s Talent didn’t recognize sarcastic use of metaphor as deception.

“What was Death like?” Beltane asked.

“Cold, unforgiving…” I imagined the dozens of people on the casino floor of the Cagliostro, all of whom were from wildly different backgrounds, “even-handed, fair.” I was acutely aware that Beltane and I were talking about two entirely different things, but I was in the mood for some sophistry.

“Did Death tell you of your purpose before you were sent?” As Beltane spoke, I saw a faint glow in his eyes. He had previously been more subtle with his use of [Lie Detection], but his flagrant use of that privacy-violating Talent made it readily apparent that he was searching me for deception.

“There are certain things I know as an emissary sent to this world by Death,” I said. I spoke slowly, intentionally to not speak any direct falsehoods. “I know that a civil war will break out following the death of King Theophrastus III in 635 CA. I also know that this ‘Ragnarok’ you speak of will occur in the year 640 CA. You got one thing wrong, however. It is not ‘the gods’ that will descend, but a single god instead. Lothar, the God of Judgment, will descend and judge this world.”

“Hold on,” Beltane interjected, holding up a single finger. “Could you repeat that name? Lothar, the God of Judgment?”

“Sure,” I said, confused. “Lothar, the God of Judgment.” As I spoke, the words only escaped my throat with some difficulty. I didn’t truly believe that Lothar was a god. I would have preferred to use the word “Medial,” but the use of the word “god” was easier in that circumstance.

“As I thought,” Beltane said with a slight chuckle as his eyes stopped glowing. “You lied twice in that speech, but it was only when you used the word ‘god.’ Your lie wasn’t that ‘Lothar’ was the one who would descend. Rather, your lie was that Lothar was a ‘god.’”

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“Lothar isn’t a god,” I responded with minimal hesitation. “He’s merely an incredibly powerful, completely ageless entity. Ultimately, he can be killed, and he’s motivated by human emotions. That disqualified him from godhood in my book.”

“What hubris…” Beltane said with a smile and a chuckle. The hubris of my words clearly entertained him. A second passed, then the words I had just spoken sunk in, and all mirth disappeared from his face.

“Did you say Ragnarok is going to occur in 640? That’s sixteen years from now.” Fear was obvious on Beltane’s expression as he spoke. His own Talent had confirmed the veracity of my statement. From his perspective, either I was right, or I was crazy. If I truly yet incorrectly believed in my words, they would not register as lies to Beltane’s Talent. It was possible to implant false memories in someone, but the process usually drove the person insane.

“Yes,” I breathed out. “That’s why we need to move fast. I’m working on a plan, but it’s still in the early stages of preparation. I’ll need a significant information network in order to get enough information to form the latter stages of the plan.”

“The world might be gone twenty years from now…” Beltane muttered to himself, not hearing most of my last statement.

“Yes, but we’re going to stop Lothar. All we need to do is make me strong enough to kill a god within sixteen years. Easy-peasy,” I said with a smirk.

Beltane laughed at the casualness of my statement. “But you just said Lothar isn’t a god.”

“He’s a god when I’m showing off,” I said with a laugh that matched Beltane’s.

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Within minutes, we were back in the castle grounds. It would have taken me three more hours to walk back, so Beltane used the [Fly] spell to carry me back to the castle.

In my opinion, the [Fly] spell was used incorrectly. All [Fly] did was create a field of zero-gravity around the caster. The caster would then conjure gusts of wind to propel himself to wherever he had to go. This was the same spell that Beltane used in order to bring the two of us down from the second story window of Feldrast Manor.

The spell [Lift Object] could be used to lift people as well. [Fly] was only a distinct spell because a caster could not use [Lift Object] to lift himself. From what I understood, lifting oneself altered the frame of reference, causing the whole spell to break down. I experienced this first hand during some poorly thought out magical experimentation.

We landed on the outskirts of Castle Northwind. Beltane informed me that a broad ward against Source Magic had been drawn around the castle. It was possible to use Source Magic inside the castle, but the ward would cancel the effects of [Fly] or [Lift Object] when the caster crossed the threshold into the castle grounds.

When Beltane brought the two of us to the ground, and I felt my feet touch dirt, something was wrong. I looked around, and everything had stopped. The people near us were completely stationary, nearby birds in flight were frozen in place, and everything was completely silent.

Everything in my sight had completely stopped except for Beltane. He peered around at the frozen scene, though he showed less surprise than I felt.

The scene around the entrance to Castle Northwind was completely frozen. It was as if time itself had stopped.