Chapter Text
It should have worked. The equations were all balanced, the keystone runes were correctly etched, the somatic movements had been absolutely precise.
And yet, when Essek opened his eyes, he was not in his laboratory in Rosohna, as he should have been. It certainly bore resemblance to his laboratory; the circle on the floor certainly contained dumantic inscription and the books on the shelves contained many of his go-to research tomes, but the shape of the room was all wrong, and there were books and notes in Common and Zemnian mixed in with the familiar Undercommon.
Essek turned to the desk and pored over the papers there, trying to glean some sense of the date, but came up with nothing. There were certainly interesting projects at work though. He recognized his own handwriting and diagrams, but they were interspersed with notes by some other hand, adding comments and ideas, and at least one doodle of a cat. Essek didn't know what to make of it.
He peered out the window, wincing in the daylight. Clearly, he was not in Rosohna. But where then? Somewhere else in the Dynasty? ...No, the architecture was all wrong for that. But the image was oddly static. There were buildings outside the window, but no people in the streets. It had an eerie effect.
Reassuring himself that he had his spellbook on hand, Essek slowly opened the door that led elsewhere in the building, exploring. It was a small, Zemnian-style dwelling, but it was littered with design choices that reminded Essek of home—small wire sculptures, potted moss, and even a stained glass depiction of the Beacon, placed over a simple kitchen, the purple and gold glowing across the wooden floor and sink.
Off the kitchen was a large bedroom, with a human-sized bed but also a traditional drow chaise, and two massive bookshelves that flanked a dark wood bureau. Opening it, Essek found that a little more than half of it looked reasonably like things he might wear, while the remainder reminded him too much of those he'd sought to escape by enacting this ambitious plan.
He closed the bureau and left the room, circling back upstairs to the laboratory. As he entered, the circle in the center glowed brightly and a human shimmered into view. He was decently tall, with long reddish hair pulled back at the nape. He had a short beard, which he was rubbing in a rueful sort of way.
"Oh, hallo, Schatz. Were you working? Sorry to interrupt." His voice was low and raspy, a too-familiar Zemnian accent making the hair on Essek's neck rise.
Essek did not know the man.
Wait, did he?
Something rang familiar, but he didn't have time to interrogate his memory.
"It's. Fine," Essek said uncomfortably. "I was just returning from a break downstairs."
"Ah, a good plan. I don't suppose you made any progress on the wall?"
Essek glanced to the desk, quickly assessing. Yes, many of the notes were about some modification or manipulation of a wall of force, weren't they? Something about layering them with various effects? "No, it continues to elude," he said vaguely.
The man strode past him, patting his shoulder, as easily as if he did it every day. "You're stress-floating, Essek," he said with a small, knowing smile. "I'll scare up some dinner, okay?"
The door closed behind him and Essek was free to try and remember who this man was. He clearly wasn't any of the Assembly, despite the accent, and he didn't resemble any of the Scourgers Essek had been unfortunate enough to encounter.
Oh! Those mercenaries, the ones from the peace negotiations, the ones who had been harboring one of the Beacons! The man had spoken maybe a few words when Essek met them for the exchange at the behest of the Queen, but he had been there next to the goblin.
He couldn't remember the name. Strong something? No, Mighty something. ...Ah, it had been Mighty Nine. Confusing, since there were only seven of them. He recalled the blue tiefling making some overly dramatic statement about the other two dying, which had not rung true based on the reactions of the others.
That didn't mean he knew the man's name though.
With a shaky sigh, Essek followed him downstairs to the kitchen, where something delicious-smelling was just beginning to simmer on the stove. "Long day, Schatz? You're quieter than usual." Like Essek's governess had done when he was young, the man touched the back of his hand to Essek's forehead, gauging his temperature against his own. Essek couldn't help the slight flinch away from the touch, and the man's eyes narrowed in recognizing it. His tone remained conversational, however. "Hm, cool, but not unusually so. Dinner will be a while yet, if you want to go over the spell together."
Essek's lack of context would give him away too quickly. "I'm rather sick of looking at it, if I'm being honest," he said.
"Mm," the man said, pouring more ingredients into the pot. "It can be helpful to get your head out of it for a time, that is true."
Essek didn't know how to manipulate the conversation to get the information he needed.
He was supposed to be ten years in his past, intercepting the first messages he'd gotten from the Cerberus Assembly and preventing his falling for their flattery and lies.
Instead, a human mercenary was making him dinner in a home that Essek couldn't help but feel like he belonged in—or at least an Essek Thelyss did.
The man decided to spend the wait for dinner reading in the small sitting room that connected to the kitchen. Essek sat across from him, grabbing one of the books around at random to hide behind while he considered what could have happened.
Instead of back, did he perhaps go forward? But he couldn't imagine why he'd be living(?) with this human he'd never really spoken to before in a place that was clearly not Rosohna. Had his crime been discovered? Unlikely. He'd be dead.
Sideways then? A timeline in parallel with his own? That would perhaps make more sense.
Essek peered over the top of the book at his companion. He was not a bad-looking man, but hardly exemplary compared to others Essek had known. Scars dotted the visible pale skin, presumably from combat, though Essek saw a few on the forearms that seemed too… regular for a fight to be the source.
He dropped his gaze back to the lines of text before him, willing the embarrassed heat in his ears to cool.
A cat Essek hadn't even noticed in the house prior sauntered into the room and immediately hunched at the sight of him, its black fur standing on end as it fixed him with a furious gaze, before darting away.
The man watched it go. "What's wrong, Mitzi?" he called after the cat, before looking back to Essek with narrowed eyes.
He tried not to show his nerves. How should he approach this? Leave in the dead of night, with no idea of where he actually was? Lie to this stranger who presumably knew most of his tells? Try to tell the truth and be treated a fool?
He kept his eyes on the book, watching the man in his periphery.
A few anxious minutes passed, before the man stood. "Forgive me a moment, I need to message someone," he said easily.
"Of course. Take your time." Essek waved his hand in a relaxed dismissal, not even looking up.
The man's footfalls echoed in the small space as he went up the stairs, the murmur of his voice only just audible from the laboratory above. Essek contemplated his choices. Darting out into the city under a Seeming and just waiting out the week duration of the spell might be his best bet.
The stairs creaked as the man descended them, checking the pot in the kitchen. "Smells ready," he said, half to himself. "Come, Essek, let's eat some dinner."
Essek set his shield book aside and joined the man at the small dining table set up in the corner. The bowl set in front of him was steaming hot, well-spiced, and filled with rice and vegetables glistening with a thick, dark sauce.
The man sat across from him and tucked into his food. Essek's stomach grumbled, prompting him to do the same.
To Essek, the silence was awkward and unsure, but the man ate as if unaware of the pressure in the air.
"Friend," he said, setting his empty bowl aside with a contented sigh. "It's clear your head is elsewhere tonight. How about a massage?" His smile was lopsided and easy and Essek's heart stuttered in his chest.
It had been years, decades?, since a person had touched Essek without malice, and this human did it without a thought. If this was indeed a parallel timeline, a disconnected reality, Essek boggled over how things could have changed so drastically for the Essek who inhabited this time.
And yet.
The curiosity and desire rose in his chest.
"Very well," he said. "That sounds quite pleasant."
The man gestured for him to sit on the sofa in the sitting room and for him to turn around. The human's hands were heavy on his shoulders, kneading into his back. Essek's eyes fluttered shut. If this time's Essek got to experience this often, he would have to figure out what the point of divergence had been and get some of this for himself…
The human's hands traveled down his spine, then back up to the shoulders, to work down to the wrists and back up again.
Essek bit his tongue to stop himself making a humiliating noise as he turned to clay in the wizard's hands.
The man leaned into his ear. "Mm, are you enjoying yourself, friend?"
Essek swallowed then whispered, "Yes. Thank you."
His hands were yanked back, caught in a vice grip in one strong hand as the other clapped over his mouth, forcing in a gag.
Essek struggled, cursing himself for his stupidity as rope appeared from nowhere, a rough, commanding voice speaking in the air. "Damn, Caleb, you had me going for a minute. Are you, like, super sure this isn't Essek?"
The man—Caleb—waved his hands through the air, speaking the familiar incantation of Dispel Magic. The glow settled over him and he felt his levitation spell wink out, though he hadn't been using it. More worrisome, the Wristpocket holding his spellbook failed, the book falling under his bound hands.
Caleb's eyes narrowed. "He's not under any sort of illusion I can dispel, and he's not wearing a ring of Alter Self or anything like that."
"Could your transmogrification thing turn someone into someone else?" the invisible person asked.
Caleb shook his head. "Not as we wrote it, no. Though I suppose if someone got ahold of my notes, they could have made alterations… That has worrying implications." He paced in front of the sofa, his eyes never leaving Essek.
"What tipped you off?"
Rubbing his chin, Caleb said, "You'd be able to tell if it were Yasha. It was just a… gut feeling."
Silence fell.
Essek tried to discreetly pick his hands free, only to have the rope tighten painfully. "Don't try it, man," the invisible person said venomously. "I'd hate to bust your fingers."
The voice turned toward the wizard. "So, now what? We're not going to get anything from him gagged. Can you disable his magic somehow?"
Caleb picked up the spellbook where it lay beside Essek, setting it on the chair behind him with more respect than Essek would expect from an interrogator. "That will help, but. Hm." He unwound the kerchief at his neck and folded it, tying it instead over Essek's eyes. "No sight means no precision and I can counter anything he'd try without his spellbook. And I trust your perception if he looks like he's going to do anything he'd regret." Venom dripped from his voice. Combined with the accent, Essek couldn't escape a reminder of Ikithon and a shiver traveled down his spine.
"Okay, we don't have the means to put you in a zone of truth tonight, but you're gonna be honest with us, aren't you?" the invisible person said into his ear. Fingers pressed into a point at the base of his neck, making a shiver run through his body.
An effect very similar to a zone of truth settled over him and Essek dropped his head in a nod.
"Good. Remember, any funny business and your fingers are the first to go."
The gag was removed. Essek coughed, moving his tongue around to escape the texture of cloth.
"Let's start with an easy question," the voice said, pacing around him. "Who the fuck are you and who do you work for?"
Essek sighed. "You won't believe the answer," he warned.
"Try us," Caleb said coldly. It sounded like he was still standing between Essek and his spellbook.
"I am Essek Thelyss, but I am not the Essek Thelyss who lives here. A spell I performed went… awry in a way I did not expect. There have long been dunamantic theorists who posited that each, ah, decision point creates an opposite branch of a timeline. So, if you are going down a road and reach a fork and choose to go right, there is now another reality where you went left."
"That would be an infinity," Caleb said, his voice warming with interest. "So there are infinite realities that exist simultaneously in parallel?"
Essek nodded. "That was the theory, but the closest ability we've found to reach those other realities has been, well, echoes. But it seems I have found myself in one of those alternate timelines."
"And where is the Essek of this timeline?" the voice asked.
"I assume he is in mine. That, or he was shuffled an equal, erm, 'number' of timelines 'ahead' of me, to compensate for my own jump. And an Essek from an equal number of timelines 'back' of mine shuffled forward to my own." It was hard explaining this without his hands. They kept twitching with aborted movements. He paused. "This is all just conjecture of course. But he should not be in any real danger, unless by rotten luck he ended up in a deadly chain of events."
A long silence fell.
"I hope I have not had that sort of luck?" Essek asked softly. These people seemed emotionally invested in an Essek, so he hoped that by playing on his vulnerability he could sway them to his side.
The two fell into hushed, frantic conversation, too soft for Essek to make out. And those words he did hear didn't make sense. They were speaking something he couldn't, he assumed. Clever.
Sweat dripped down the back of his neck.
Eventually, Caleb said, "No, you haven't. I suppose the spell cannot be ended from here?"
"No, it should only last a week, however." Assuming this timeline's Essek didn't do something in his own to interfere with it.
More quiet conversation.
The blindfold was removed by Caleb, who stuffed it in his pocket. "Let's assume I take you at your word—"
"Which you know to be truthful," Essek interrupted.
Caleb nodded. "Ja, which I know to be truthful at least on the semantic level. If you have your notes, I could help you create a way to go home sooner. Or at least, you can have a place to stay while you wait out the duration of the spell."
"Caleb, the fuck? You're gonna trust him just like that? You have no clue what this guy has been doing, who he even is really."
"I will find that out in time," Caleb said calmly. "Until then, I know a few things." He untied Essek's wrists and wrapped the length of rope around his arm to coil it. "I know that Essek Thelyss is highly intelligent—" His gaze, the blue of an ocean Essek had only seen once in sunlight, fell to Essek's own. "—and I know that he is a coward who would balk at putting himself in harm's way. So if he's going to try anything, it'll be while I'm sleeping."
It was an accurate assessment, but that didn't mean it didn't sting.
"And if he tries anything in my sleep, I have a familiar who will be keeping a close eye."
"I gain nothing by hurting you, and lose a potential source of knowledge and a relatively safe place to stay by doing so," Essek grumbled. He massaged his wrist, then rolled it to get out the pins and needles.
"Precisely," Caleb said.
The voice sighed. "Well, fine. But stay in town, will you?"
"You have my word," Caleb said. "I'll be in touch."
The front door opened and shut and Caleb swirled his hand in the air, presumably ending a cast of Greater Invisibility.
Silence fell.
"So," Caleb said in a conversational tone that still carried an edge. "Since we have not been introduced, I am Caleb Widogast."
"Member of the, ah, Mighty Nine?" Essek supplied.
"Ja. Glad to know not everything is different in your timeline." Caleb picked up his spellbook from the chair and offered it back.
Essek recast his Wristpocket to put it away. "Thank you."
Caleb shrugged, mumbling something about not keeping a wizard from his books.
The black cat lingered on the stairs, peering through the wooden slats. The familiar, Essek assumed. Mitzi?
Essek glanced around the house once again, feeling that odd sense of belonging but not. "May I inquire about the nature of your relationship with the Essek here?"
Caleb's face grew stony. "I imagine you have gleaned all you need to know from what you have seen. Forgive me if I would prefer to keep the rest private." He fiddled with a ring on his hand.
"Understood." Essek fidgeted, still standing beside the sofa. "Um, thank you. For believing me."
Caleb walked into the kitchen, fixing himself another bowl of food. "I knew you were not lying. Essek is a terrible liar when he's put on the spot." A smile flickered over his face before being swallowed by a careful blankness.
Yes, it had been wise to not attempt deceit.
"Should I, um, confine myself to any particular space in the house?" Essek didn't think Caleb would lock him up necessarily, but the man had asked for a certain amount of privacy.
"I would prefer you not poke around the bedroom. Otherwise?" He gestured to the house. "I imagine you'll want to spend most of this week in the lab. I can put a chaise up there for you to rest on."
He could admit he was very curious what sort of experiments this timeline's Essek had been conducting. "Thank you." Essek hated being so… known by a stranger. But he felt like he wasn't in a position to ask. "Are there any questions of yours that I can answer?" he tried. Anything to balance the scales of power, however slight.
"I am, of course, curious how our paths have differed; the point at which our fates diverged. But I imagine it would take a long time to untangle, if we even could."
Essek glanced out the window at the darkening sky. "Yes, humans need to sleep."
"Especially humans who have classes to teach tomorrow," Caleb agreed, finishing his second bowl and setting it in the sink. He was an instructor then. "You're welcome to throw yourself at the magical wall if you're looking for something to do. Just please do not leave the house." The man frowned. "I do not know what elements of danger haunt your home, but there are those who would not wish you well here."
Yes, that was familiar. "Understood. You have my word."
With a nod, Caleb set his dishes in the wash tub and retreated into the bedroom, closing and locking the door. Essek lingered a moment longer in the living room before he decided he could at least make himself useful. Cleaning the dishes required only a few casts of Prestidigitation after all and the kitchen was organized logically enough that he managed to put them away without too much rummaging.
When he returned to the laboratory, there was indeed a chaise for his rest, though Essek had not noticed the human rearranging any furniture. Instead of fiddling with Caleb and his counterpart's wall however, Essek pored over his own spell. How had it gone so awry? He checked every rune again, every somatic gesture, every word of power. He should have been sent ten years back in time, with a week to intercept Ludinus' initial messages and prevent himself from ever involving himself with the Assembly.
But, he wondered, his gaze wandering to the desk, the other Essek and Caleb's notes mingled on its surface, would he have gotten involved regardless?
He had never put stock in anything like fate. He had no use for divine dealings or the chasing of the absent Luxon. And yet… he had not been able to pierce the veil of the past.
He wondered…
The laboratory held a great many books, as well as a great many journals, the leather carefully branded with date ranges. Essek selected one that was especially manhandled, fourth of a set of seven that were dated within three months of each other.
He paged through it, fascinated by the notes and sketches. He drifted to the floor, crossing his legs under him as he read more closely about Caleb and his counterpart's expedition into the fallen city of Aeor.
The binding of the journal fell open to one leaf toward the middle, clearly revisited often. The chamber sketched within was mostly unremarkable, but the circle detailed beside it was fascinating. Dunamantic… no, maybe even pre-dumantic runes swirled around other, more esoteric ones.
T-Dock Chamber, the upper right corner declared. As interpreted by Comprehend Languages. T = temporal? Transmutation and dunamancy together, the transmutation and manipulation of dunamis.
Had that been the missing piece?
Essek looked back at his own spellbook. Yes, without transmuting dunamis, of course it could not go backwards. Time was naturally linear and without the influence of transmutation, it could not be coaxed into another shape.
Eagerly, Essek turned the page, hoping for more elaboration of the chamber and its knowledge, but instead he found a note, written in his own hand.
I am loath to destroy knowledge, but I have taken the liberty of excising this journal, to be burned along with the rest of the chamber's notes.
Geleceğimizi riske atmayacağım yıldızım.
Forgive me.
Essek
He closed the journal, seething. Was this timeline's Essek so besotted that he burned ancient, dunamantic knowledge of traveling through time because… what, it might interfere with kissing the man asleep downstairs? Preposterous.
Essek was glad he had no dealings with his counterpart.
He returned the book to its spot on the shelf and returned to his own work, stacking and organizing the scattered papers on the desk to mark a clear delineation between his work and his lovesick counterpart's. He would use what he had. He could pick the other wizard's brain too over the next few days.
He didn't find rest until the beginnings of dawn began to trickle through the window.