Branches of Time, The (15 page)

There were times when he wanted to escape from her and stay far, far away from everything: from the homes of his dead relatives and friends in the village, from his wife, from the priestess, from the shadow, from the past.

He continued walking. He knew that path by memory; otherwise, with all that snow, it would have been easy to get lost.

The sky was turning dark. It had begun snowing again. The fur covers wrapped around his boots were plunging deeper into the snow with every step. The first flakes landed on his shoulder. There weren't many hours of daylight left, but Bashinoir still continued onwards.

If something happened to me, what would Lil and Miril do? I need to go back.

He decided that he'd head back as soon as the path veered in a different direction.

Once the path turned, he realized he was just a little ways away from one of his favorite spots. The trail climbed up a cliff a few hundred feet high. Bashinoir knew this was dangerous terrain. He thought about what would happen if he fell. He visualized himself at the bottom of the steep slope, with a wounded leg, unable to stand up. The snow would cover his footsteps. Lil and Miril wouldn't be able to find him, but if they kept looking, all that remained would be the frozen fragments of a cadaver mauled by wild animals.

He walked on a little further, feeling a shiver of danger, then, finally, decided to turn back. He went down to the forest, passed through it and reached the village, and then the Temple, without facing any problems during the return journey.

Approaching the Temple, he saw the light from the kitchen filtering through the windows. There was a hearth inside, a dinner and two women who, although tired from the work they had done that day, still wanted to spend time with him. Bashinoir wished he could just be alone, away from it all, even the woman he loved. He wished he could go straight to his bedroom, but didn't know how he could possibly do that. He had to save face, he had to pretend to be strong in front of those who had faith in him. He couldn't show them he was cracking. He felt overcome by nausea. What lie would he make up this time? What could he tell them about his day? Depressed, defeated, unable to break the spell that kept pulling him downwards, he stepped through the door, putting a spring in his step and a smile on his face.

32

While cleaning the large, round room of the Temple, Lil stopped to rest, wiping the sweat away from her forehead with a handkerchief. She allowed herself a few minutes to appreciate the marvelous mosaics decorating the walls. In the past, she, like all the other inhabitants of the island, would only have had the chance to spend time in this place while engaged in some humble form of work. It was one of the greatest honors one could aspire to. But now she was the only one left to take care of so many rooms. If she didn't finish cleaning before beginning the rituals, she would have to come back at night. It was inconceivable to leave any corner of the Temple in anything but the most perfect state of cleanliness.

Miril came into the room. Lil's heart ached when she saw her: they had woken up only a few hours ago, but Miril already looked like she was consumed with fatigue. Without saying a word, the priestess picked up a broom and began sweeping the floor.

“Priestess, please. You look exhausted. Let me take care of this,” Lil said, coming closer and taking the broom handle away from her.

Her eyes were lined with dark, purple circles. The priestess smiled: “Don't worry. I'm happy to have something to do with my hands.”

Lil replied with an insistence she swiftly regretted: “But why do you have to be so tired? I don't think you've slept in days!”

“There are lots of things I need to do. But your energy grows stronger every day, so soon I'll have the help I need.”

“Priestess, I'm so sorry! I really wish I could do more right now. I can't bear seeing you so worn out.”

“You're so sweet.”

Miril hugged Lil, who placed her head on the woman's shoulder, breathing in the intense fragrance of her hair. The embrace was reassuring. When Lil lifted her head again, she looked the priestess in the eyes. Miril's gaze was gentle, Lil's was still slightly concerned.

The young woman became aware of a feeling she had never felt before. She was attracted to that face, to that woman, to that soul and to that energy. She felt herself getting lost in the kindness of her gaze. She closed her own eyes, as if she felt she couldn't handle such an intense emotion. An abnormal vibration traveled through her, and Lil worried Miril would notice it. She wanted to move even closer to those lips, but she felt the woman's hands tense up.

What am I doing?
Lil asked herself, opening her eyes. The priestess, frightened, was glaring at her as if she were a monster. Lil's heart started to race.
What did I do? Where did I go wrong?

“I didn't...I...Forgive me. What did I do? I'm sorry! Forgive me, please, priestess,” she babbled.

“No, no. Lil, you didn't do anything. It's just that, for a few seconds, I saw you
vanish.
”

“Vanish? What do you mean?”

“For a fraction of a second, your body appeared to become transparent!”

Oh, that poor woman,
Lil sympathized. “Miril, I'm sorry. You're far too tired. You can't go on like this, you'll get sick,” she said, almost whimpering, taking her hands. “Please, priestess, you need to rest.”

“No, it's not because of fatigue. It's already happened once before, but at that time, we had spent so many hours performing the rituals that I thought it was just due to weakness. Besides, we weren't standing as close together then as we are now, so I really only noticed it out of the corner of my eye. But this time...this time you were right in front of me. And the walls of the Temple, the columns, the mosaics, nothing else lost its consistency. Only you.”

“Miril, what are you saying? I didn't notice a thing. I didn't feel any drop in energy. Actually, when I closed my eyes, I felt warmth and...attraction,” Lil admitted, looking at the floor.

“Lil, I know what I'm talking about. I need to go to the library and find an explanation for what just happened. And perhaps it'll also explain where the cadavers have all disappeared to.”

33

“There is an ancient legend, an epic poem that tells of a people who go to a funeral, during which the body of the dead man disappears. Then, even the bodies of the living begin to experience flashes of transparency which, over the years, become increasingly frequent, until the people begin to vanish entirely. The poem ends with this sentence:
and the dry branch of time fell from the tree.
”

Bashinoir and Lil silently listened to the explanations of Miril, who had spent the entire day in the library, only emerging a few moments before dinner. She had told Lil what she had found out after so many hours of reading, and the young woman had begged her to also let Bashinoir participate in the discussion.

“I'm afraid,” Miril continued, “that somehow the course of history has been changed, and that, now, we find ourselves on a dry branch.”

Lil and Bashinoir struggled to wrap their minds around these ideas.

“This would explain why the cadavers disappeared. Since they have lower frequencies than living beings, they simply vanished, as on the new branch of time, they never existed. And, slowly, that's also what's happening to us. We're starting to disappear, because in theory, we've never existed.”

Lil and Bashinoir involuntarily looked at one another, as if wanting to make sure they were both still present.

Bashinoir shyly allowed himself to comment: “I haven't noticed any
disappearing
going on here. Not even for a few seconds.”

Miril tried to find the right words in order to avoid offending him. “At first only a well-trained eye is able to see it, but soon, the phenomenon becomes obvious to anyone and everyone.”

Lil spoke up: “Priestess, could it perhaps be explained by the fact that, among the three of us, you're under the most stress? You carry the weight of the rituals almost entirely upon your own shoulders, since I'm still only able to do so little. Maybe -”

“Lil, believe me. I clearly saw what happened. And it's not because of fatigue. You were in front of me. Your face was a few inches away from mine and, through it, I saw the mosaics
behind
you. We can't attribute this simply to exhaustion.”

Why were they so close to each other?
Bashinoir wondered. An unpleasant sensation darted through him before he could repress it.

“Lil, Bashinoir, you have to imagine time not as a straight line leading from the past to the future, but as a living organism. Think of a plant – a bush, for example. There can be many temporal lines. But only one of them, only one particular branch, takes on the characteristics of reality.”

“So what are the other branches, then?”

“They're possibilities. Events caused by other events which, however, don't have enough strength, or enough lymph, to transform into reality. At a certain point, these branches grow dry and fall off. And then only one temporal line is left.”

“Then we should be on that line of time, right?” Lil asked.

“We were. I think that a new temporal line actually became stronger than our own. And on that new branch, our presence does not belong on this island, or we may not even exist at all, for that matter.”

“I...I don't understand. How could things just change like this, all of a sudden?”

“It's hard to say for sure. We can only guess. I think that, in the past, a change was made so that our people never reached this island, in which case, we're no longer here,” Miril explained, trying to find the simplest words that would be easier for them to understand.

Lil struggled to understand the complex matter at hand. Bashinoir wondered if Miril, due to all the stress she was under, was perhaps starting to lose it. “But what could have changed the past? Everything in the past has already happened. Nobody and nothing can do anything about it,” he tried to object.

Miril thought for a moment. “That's not entirely true. Our sacred texts are rather clear in saying that it's possible to change the past.”

“How in the world is that possible?” Lil objected, now alarmed.

“Through time travel.”

“Time travel?” Bashinoir and Lil asked in unison.

They're not ready to understand. Maybe I shouldn't have even tried to explain this.

“Lil, Bashinoir: imagine that you're at a particular moment of the past. If you eliminate a future mother, she won't give birth to her baby, who won't be able to have their own children. With your action, you would have changed the course of time. Time would try to reabsorb this change, but if that baby was destined to become a king or change the course of history, a new branch of time would probably have to develop. If the effects of temporal changes are too major to be reabsorbed, the new branch becomes stronger than the main branch, which then dries up and falls off.”

“I don't understand!” Lil groaned. “Who could possibly go around making those sorts of changes?”

“Perhaps the same people responsible for the rock shards that rained down upon this island. Our rituals ensure the protection of the Temple and the island. Physically, nobody can hurt us, because we sustain a barrier that is impossible for them to get through. They could have, however, modified the past in order to give us the coup de grace, relying upon our inability to fight against their magical offense.”
And they were probably right.
 

34

Bashinoir wasn't convinced. He slept poorly, unable to rest: the words of priestess Miril continuously hammered through his dreams and thoughts all night long. Time travel, transparency, time as a living being, the dry branches: none of this made any sense.
Has the priestess gone crazy?

For weeks, he had anxiously waited for her to provide an explanation for the deathly shower of rock shards and, finally, she came out with a theory as wacky as it was improbable.

Bashinoir was certain he hadn't noticed anything unusual about the consistency of their bodies. After that discussion, his doubts had not only remained unsolved, but now dominated everything else in his mind.

He had gotten up before dawn, eating a meager breakfast. On his way out, he hastily bade Lil and Miril good morning.

He naturally avoided the stables, where he should have performed the necessary work. He immediately chose the path that led through the woods, not without looking over his shoulder several times to make sure neither of the two women had come out of the Temple to get a breath of fresh air.

Once on the beach, Bashinoir enjoyed the morning sun for a few hours, trying in vain to erase the priestess's words from his mind.

He thought about the shadow. Whenever it came to keep him company, he always felt that he regained the peace and serenity he had lost, as if it recharged his energy needed to go onwards.

Their relationship was growing. The sensations were becoming increasingly palpable.
But it's a shadow that bobs around underwater!
Bashinoir was afraid it was just a product of his own mind.
What if it didn't exist? Maybe the only reason I see it is because I feel so lonely. There's nobody left, besides her.
Yet, after all the doubts raised by the conversation from the night before, he felt he desperately needed that contact tonight.