The Ravenlord traced one of the tendrils of force with a thin
finger ... He side-stepped the twirling Stygian ambassador, keeping
his flaming eye on Rhiobhan ... watching how she spun, stomped and
swung in counterpoint to the thumping music ...

The Ravenlord touched one of the beams again ... His arm began to
tingle with the building energy ... It ran up the length of it, and
through him, until the manic light filled him ... He saw a flash ...

... And found that he was standing in the library, though not the
library as it stands now ... Books and papers and tablets were
scattered everywhere; come to rest after some frantic chase ... The
Ravenlord saw a group of the Houses prominent denizens – from
days
past – gathered around a dark, menacing figure ... Himself ...

... They were shrinking back from the new, haunting presence,
expressions of fear and disquiet frozen on their faces ... Except for
one ...

Rhiobhan stood before him, having taken a scroll from his bone-white
hand ... Tears streamed down her face, but not from terror ...
Rhio's
face held nothing but anguish, as though her heart were torn
asunder ...

*Why do I see this ... * the Ravenlord thought ... *Am I reliving
memory ... or do I observe, unseen? * ... And then, he stepped
sideways through a shadow ...

Through a flash ... and he was within the web of light that Rhio had
spun with her dance ... He had moved closer to her ... the Ravenlord
began to unravel the pattern ... He turned into another beam ... felt
the flash ...

... And moved through another shadow into an alcove near the bar in
the main hall ... Here, he saw himself again, speaking to Winter and
Rhio ... This time, however, Rhio wore a look of pain, frustration
and anger ... directed at the Ravenlord – the one directly before
her, that is ... The Ravenlord watched her storm away from himself,
and how he turned ... a puzzled look on his sharp features ... Both
he and his other aspect watched Rhio shift into a different dress as
she climbed the stairs ...

*To the Solstice festival ... a year ago ... * he whispered ... and
stepped sideways through a shadow ... through a flash ...

... Onto the dance floor, where Rhio still danced with
desperation ... Even closer now, the Ravenlord could see how the
sweat rolled down her face, how her breath was quick and sharp ...
The Ravenlord ducked into another tendril of light ... felt the
flash ...
... Slid through another shadow into the cave of the beast ... Here,
he watched as he and Rhio dispatched the monster in a blast of
eldritch fire ... watched how they held each other, giving each other
strength ... The Ravenlord slipped through another shadow ... through
a flash ...

... And closer yet to Rhio, and the center of her dance, in the hall
of the Goth House ... Slipping through another beam, and another
shadow ...

... Into a wild cataract of madness and pain ... The Ravenlord
watched his figure step away from a large, leather-bound book towards
the naked, shaking form of Rhio ... He was back inside her mind, or
how it was, on the brink of oblivion ... And for the first time in
these odd transportations, he heard the sound of his voice ...

*There are always consequences ... *

The Ravenlord remembered uttering those words ... remembered their
weight ... He spoke them right before he professed his love for Rhio,
though at the time she was barely conscious ... He couldn't know
if
she heard him, or not ... Hearing the words again, uttered from his
self of recent past, the gravity of their meaning pressed on him ...
Sideways through the shadow ... into the flash ...

... She was within arms' reach, spinning on the dance floor ...
The
Ravenlord held out his hand ... and struck another beam ...

... And stepped from a grotto in the House garden to see himself
escorting Rhio back inside the house ... This was the most recent
past, he noted ... He turned to step back through the shadow when
something caught his eye ...

He saw himself emerge from the ring of trees, and look right at
himself, single eye aflame ... He felt the impact of his own voice in
his mind, the hollow sound of an Autumn wind chasing dry leaves down
a lonely, wooded path ... Again, quoting a bard ...

*"The time is out of joint; O cursed spite ..." *

The Ravenlord could not be certain which of his selves had uttered
the phrase ... He spun and slipped through the shadow in the
grotto ...

... And stepped from the ring of trees ... He watched as his fleeting
aspect sped through the shadow in the grotto ... Then, he heard the
quote completed from a voice behind him ... a musical whisper ...

"That ever I was born to set it right!"
The Ravenlord turned to behold a figure draped in a scarlet robe,
much shorter than himself ... The figure pulled back its heavy hood
to reveal an angular face halloed in sable hair ... Its pale skin
held just a hint of the hue of blue ... Its almond-shaped eyes the
color of jade ... Thin, pointed ears poked out from beneath its dark
locks ...

The Ravenlord knew this being ... He had been to the House before ...
He had delivered a package ...

The Ravenlord was not surprised that he had returned ... Or, the
Ravenlord mused, had he just arrived ...

*This is the future ... * said the Ravenlord, leaving the ambiguity
of statement or interrogative ...

"Has it past?" returned the scarlet-robed figure, with a
smile ... He
turned back into the ring and vanished ...

The Ravenlord followed ... through the flash ...

... And stood right before Rhio, who still danced with abandon, eyes
closed ... The music thrummed, the energy throbbed ... On the edge of
the dance floor, the Stygian ambassador let out another shrill,
ululating cry ... Fusion and the other dancers marked their time and
beat out their space in the web of power ...

*Rhio ... Beloved Rhio ... * the Ravenlord sent from his mind to
hers ... Still moving, Rhio opened her eyes ... they were glazed with
trance-like distance ... She raised a hand and touched the
Ravenlord's cheek ...

... There was a flash ...


Michael (DJ Poe)