Chapter Text
“‘Once upon a time long since passed, in a world much different to today’s Rushewa, there existed nothing but war and chaos. Mortals strove to achieve the status of gods by any means necessary, including murder. When they found themselves unable to kill the divine, they misused the magic granted them and called upon the seven infernal deities. Evil beings, but divine nonetheless. Such powers desired the downfall of the stronger gods so greatly that they struck deals with the fools without a second thought.
“‘The welcoming of infernal powers tainted the godly magic fueling the world, causing Rushewa to crumble even before the gods’ retaliation. Many species of animals were lost to time, once-existing laws of nature were abolished, and entire landscapes were drastically altered. Wars broke out following the pursuit of ever more magic, and with such great powers at play, Rushewa changed beyond recognition.
“‘However, mortals of all species soon banded together with one common goal reestablished: stealing the power of the gods. Only then did the divine take notice of these plots, but their prior ignorance cost them their lives. One by one, each of the gods fell to mortals and demons alike, and though they themselves struck down many, though they passed their power to their comrades to keep such great magic from the enemy, they could not fight. By the time only one goddess remained, all hope was lost. The world was thrust into chaos as the single god meant an imbalance of nature’s powers, earning it its present-day name ‘Shattered’.
“‘The final good god knew that the world would tear itself apart if these terrible people wielded the power of the divine. So, in one final attempt to save the world, with eternal life she blessed eight mortals worthy enough to bear this power and restore balance to the world. With so many gods’ powers and only eight mortals to whom she gave them, she grouped each magic into the common elements of life we know today. She distributed the magic of land, sea, sky, space, free will, knowledge, creation, and time, and for herself, she reserved virtue. Using nothing but her wisdom to guide her and her spear to carve a path to victory, she ambushed the infernal gods as they marched to attack her palace. This surprise aided her in killing every other god but one, and as her final act, she locked her power in a place far too holy for the infernal god to touch.
“‘Soon after the goddess’ final battle, the Blessed Eight, unable to kill him, united to seal away the new, infernal god of war. After that, to ensure balance remained and to keep from placing every power in a single place as a safeguard against any future attacks, they separated to preside over their domains. They sparsely dispersed their magic throughout the land, keeping the vast majority of mortals from any sort of mastery over it.
“‘Many have speculated the dwelling places of each member, but, as each residence likely requires superhuman feats to reach, all known attempts prior to the date of this book’s writing have been unsuccessful.’
“For now.”
* * * * *
The Timekeeper stared into nothing, looking over everything that happened while he was asleep. Of course, he didn’t actually look at nothing, he wasn’t crazy, his power just basically let him have security cameras in his head. Except, you know, those didn’t actually exist yet. They could’ve, hypothetically, since he did actually conveniently stumble onto the chunk of time and space where someone in the future made them, and he probably could’ve copied the way the person did that. But that would’ve screwed up the balance of time and make all these ripples and just cause so much crap that it wasn’t even worth it.
And besides, Bdubs was a humble god among men. He could let that mortal have their moment in the future. He could rest with the knowledge that his genius would be able to create a security camera if he really wanted it to.
And he had more important things to think about, anyways. Mainly focusing on what all happened last night. Now, if there’s one thing you need to understand about Bdubs, it’s that he was not paranoid! No paranoia before the magical time powers, and no paranoia after them, either. He was a perfectly normal guy with a perfectly normal sense of danger. Just, you know, since he had the ability and all, he might as well have used it, right?
So he did. He looked at the fourth dimension like most people can look at the third one. He could pay attention to decent-sized chunks of time at once- and only in the places he could see in 3D. Space wasn’t his domain, after all, just time. And as long as he didn’t get involved in anything outside his little area- which he wouldn’t- then he was fine with that limitation.
But no matter how much he looked, just like every other day ever, nothing. Beyond frustrating. How could he explain it…? He knew something bad was gonna happen. Saw it once, during the security camera incident, where he accidentally looked too far ahead in too many places. And what did one of those places show? Him losing his freakin’ powers. So yeah, sure, call him crazy, but he saw that doomsday clock, and he happily said ‘no, thanks’.
Thankfully, though, today wasn’t doomsday. Everything last night happened normally. A couple more mice than usual, but that was never any kind of problem before. Although their burrow was getting a little too close to his house… Ah, whatever. That could be a later Bdubs problem. Satisfied enough with his checkup of the clearing around his little cabin, he headed back inside.
Now, the interior of his home would’ve probably driven most people insane. But to Bdubs, it was absolute heaven. A chorus of clock-based timers perfectly in sync- down to the millisecond- sang for him all day, every day. Perfect. He checked each one of them- oh, that one was running low on time, that one still had plenty left, and, yeah, that one looked about right. Good stuff. Each timer counted down to some important event that Bdubs actually figured out the time for. Unlike his doomsday, much to his chagrin.
For example, the invention of the telescope was only twelve years, eight months, sixteen days, three hours, nineteen seconds, and twelve milliseconds away! Jimmy would be happy about that, he always enjoyed showing people how great the sky was. Well, his sky, he was always so particular about that. Or the other clock with about twenty-seven years left, that counted down the days until the naval revolution, when they’d finally learn how to fuse magic with existing ships to make them faster. Eh, that one was alright, but Lizzie probably wouldn’t appreciate the extra traffic in her domain… Or-or the discovery of penicillin, only about three hundred or so years away! Scott would really like that one- even though it wasn’t directly creation, the guy always liked medicine.
The oldest, dustiest clock ticked away in the corner. Bdubs just had to look at it. Ninety-three years, six months, twenty-eight days, five hours, fifty-seven seconds, and seven hundred sixty-two milliseconds. Wow. It… really had been a while since he’d seen any of them, huh? Even in the scope of eternal life. He considered tossing that dusty old thing out. After all, a one-hundred-year-old clock was really hard to take care of, and it didn’t even help anything, and he wasn’t even taking care of it, and it only stayed standing because he kept letting his stupid magic get away with it…
Like always, he couldn’t get rid of it.
He studied any other major events coming up soon, a pang of panic hitting his heart when he realized how few timers he had left. Well, few to him; it was still a super impressive collection of all kinds of awesome clocks. Some with a futuristic design- the real digital clocks would be so cool when they came out in around six hundred years- and some with these great vintage builds. He even had one that looked like a sundial. Still worked as a timer, of course, but the design was still cool, and it functioned both ways.
But… Ugh, he needed more clocks. More events to track, to make sure time was running as it should’ve. But that meant that he’d have to go out again and make a big deal out of finding new things, and everyone would flock to him, and everything would just be a mess… Freaking mortals. This is why he stayed in his cabin out in the middle of nowhere most of the time. People sucked.
But still, without going out every now and then, he wouldn’t actually have anything to do by himself. Turns out, watching everyone do all the fun stuff and being unable to interfere really got old after a while. And yeah, getting the new timers still meant that he couldn’t do anything. But at least with the clocks, he could track everything and have something to do.
And so, after a couple hours of wondering if he really needed those events, he begrudgingly got up and started packing for the journey. He didn’t need much; villages these days were nice enough- well, they were sixty-eight years ago, and surely, things hadn’t changed that much. So, he only put a couple things into his pack: a few days’ rations, a waterskin, a bedroll, some kindling, and a few basic medical supplies. On his person, he decided to carry a few of his most important clocks, his Scythe of Chronomancy (mostly so people could recognize him; he hadn’t used the thing in ages), and a compass. Oh, and he’d probably need a couple of those potions- who cares what they did, any kind of magic was better than none- and maybe a few more bandages- yup, yeah, he’d definitely need those dishes- or mess kit, whatever was the proper term- definitely his survival knife too, who knew when he’d need it, and-
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Bdubs froze. Someone… knocked. On his door. On his door. Hardly anyone ever visited; he made his cabin pretty hard to get to without magic. Only a few mortals could even figure out how to use the stuff, and most didn’t really bother with finding the Blessed Eight.
He glanced back at the dusty clock. Ninety-three years… No. It had to be some stupid mortal poking around, and-
Knock, knock.
Stupid, impatient- “I’m coming, I’m coming, hold your horses,” he huffed loudly enough to be heard through the door. He tossed the pack he was preparing to the side, took a deep breath to remind himself that he was patient and gracious and incredible and just all around the best, marched to the door, and swung it open.
A bruised, bloodied figure almost collapsed forward, clearly having been leaning on the door for support. No wonder why; his left leg bent at a bad angle around the shin, and part of his torso was sliced open. Despite the injuries, he gave the Timekeeper a bitter glare.
“Don’t… you bloody dare… say… ‘told you so’.” And with that spiteful message, he blacked out, falling onto the shorter man hard. Bdubs only barely managed to catch him, too caught up with the dusty clock in the corner of the living room.
The one that just reset.