Rangers Endgame

Chapter 121: Glimpse Ahead of Time

TWO YEARS AGO:

A faint outline coalesced within the depths of the familiar black abyss—a silhouette that flickered like a dim ember. The form of a young boy, no older than ten, emerged. A cloak of darkness clung tightly to his frail figure, sapping his essence like a parasite.

Sound sprouted into earshot, and wet coughs gradually became audible. Hurried footsteps echoed from around the boy, accompanied by soothing words directed to him.

"How are you feeling, dear?" An aged voice sounded from the boy's side. "Here, this soup will help regulate your temperature."

Though the boy's features were hardly distinguishable from the darkness surrounding him, the flickering outline showed a weak smile of appreciation. The soup's contents were carefully fed to the boy, and he convulsed into another fit of wet coughs. The shadows gripping his figure shivered in response, but their hold didn't loosen.

Though time was meaningless in this abyss, the boy's rapid worsening condition suggested days, perhaps weeks, had passed. His essence had gotten fainter as the shadows now burrowed their tendrils into his form. His lungs struggled to heave as much air into his congested airways as possible, and his frail voice called out to the elder for comfort.

"Time" jumped forward again, and the shadows had nearly consumed the boy, with only specks of his essence desperately clinging to life. Then, out of the darkness of the void, soft green motes began to materialize above his fading figure. Their gentle luminosity and crystalline tune humming throughout the endless expanse seemed to disperse the melancholy of the abyss.

As they danced gracefully into the boy, their warmth spread throughout his body. The shadows hissed, and their grip weakened as his essence gained a foothold and his breathing evened out. The thinning shadows squirmed in pain as the green aura left behind by the motes disentangled the impurities that once knotted themselves around the boy.

A saunter through time later, and the boy's delighted laughter began to fill the void. He no longer lay in a fragile state but rather played in the darkness with cheerful abandon, along with unseen kids assumed to be his age, his essence rejuvenated and brilliant.

Threads of amber connecting to the sequence severed. His vague form dissolved into embers, and the lighthearted sounds receded, the melancholy blackness rushing to take its place. When the limited scene ended, a horizontal line of light split the abyss and began to part the darkness. The world, blurred by radiant sunshine, opened up as nature's melody touched the man's ears.

As his cool, multi-colored eyes adjusted, his client, an elderly woman with washed-out tan hair and brown eyes, came into focus. Her frail hands were in his, quivering with nerves, and anxiety showed on her wrinkled face.

She was looking at him with expectancy, visibly clinging onto the sliver of hope that time had gnawed at for who knew how long. "Will..." Her voice cracked, her eyes darting to the side as if contemplating whether or not to know the answer to her unasked question. She swallowed and returned her gaze to him with eyes specked with the mustered fragments of courage. "Will he be okay?"

He studied her with consideration, his eyes shifting from azure to a sky blue. "The arrow of time is a sensitive thing. Even the slightest of breezes could alter its course."

She stared at him for a moment before turning downcast with understanding.

"However," he continued. "You needn't submerge yourself in worry, madam." He coupled the statement with a soft smile of reassurance to hopefully get the point across.

Relief nearly smoothed her aged face as she let out a breath he doubted she knew she was holding in. "Thank you, Foreseer."

He dipped his head respectfully and released her hands. The patch of vibrant amber grass retracted and shifted back to its green color as he stood up and offered his hand to the elder. She took it, and he gingerly stood her upright.

"I shall escort you." He substituted his supportive hand for her wooden cane.

Her grateful smile deepened her creases as she sorted through a pouch and placed a couple of silver coins in his palm. "Thank you."

They cut through a narrow path of golden bamboo that wound back to the edge of Sotiri Village. The children playing and the river's meandering waters produced an air of tranquility.

The two walked out to an opening near the river where the carriage the elder had arrived in awaited her return. The Foreseer held open the flap and helped her step inside.

"Thank you again for sparing the time." She said after getting comfortable.

"A pleasure to be of service, madam." He dipped his head once more.

"Wait!" A voice shouted from behind.

He turned to see a woman wearing a simple white blouse with a wand at her hip and a bag slung across her chest sprinting towards the carriage. She skidded just before hitting the Foreseer and caught her breath.

"Sorry. Thanks for waiting."

She too told the coachman her destination before climbing into the back. Her foot caught on a lip as she did, and the contents of her bag spilled out in front of the elder.

"Oh, I'm sorry."

The elder waved away her concerns and helped gather her vials and documents that had notes and rough drawings of various plants and herbs. "Not at all, dear." She glanced over the parchment as she handed it back. "It seems you're quite organized."

"Yes, I try to be. Unfortunately, I'm rather clumsy." She gave an embarrassed smile. "I'm actually heading towards the Capital looking for some work." 

"Might I ask what kind of work that would be?" The elder gave her a curious look.

"I'm an herbalist studying medicine and healing."

The elder's eyes went wide, then looked at the Foreseer as if she wanted confirmation that this was real.

"I wish you both safe travels." He winked, letting the flap fall.

He stepped back as the horses hauled forward with a snap of their reins. As the carriage rode off into the distance, he went back down the path to his humble abode and continued with his daily routine before his client arrived.

Walking into his home, the familiar scent of the bamboo walls welcomed him. He situated himself in his small study, where tomes and vials of green, blue, and violet lined the shelves. With practiced diligence, he delved into his studies, poring over the endless knowledge and theories captured on the pages as he carefully measured precise amounts of elixir in capsules.

Afterwards, within an isolated clearing in the middle of the bamboo forest, his sharp senior face was knitted in concentration. The rings on his thick fingers glowed as controlled power passed through them. A blanket of amber relaxed atop the soil as he made graceful gestures to conjure walls and pillars from the earth.

With the calculated dosage of enhancement elixir to nudge his channels, he trained for two hours before they began to complain. Finishing the evening with the usual mundane chores, he retired to his room.

The following morning, he began his day with light meditation to comb out the sleep from his mind. The gentle winds threaded through his snow-white hair as his blanket of radiance idly sculpted stalagmites from the soil around him.

As he felt the sunlight slowly rotate through the bamboo through his eyelids, indicating his hour was almost up, he sensed footsteps approaching. There was no need to open his eyes, sparing the figure only a fraction of his focus as he tracked the micro disturbances in his radiance that each footfall made.

His mind snagged on a barb of irritation as the figure stopped before him, letting their presence silently demand his full attention. The Foreseer rarely had visitors, so it was obvious why this person sought him out. Though they could do with more tact.

"I assume you seek insight into what lies ahead." He broke the silence, his sight remaining in peaceful nothingness.

"You're right on the money." The figure's voice, male, he confirmed, answered.

His eyes lifted open, the irises swirling from navy to sky blue. A young man, perhaps in his mid-twenties, stood before him with a hand on his hip, an impatient finger tapping at his pelvis. Though he was already looking down, he held his chin a tad too high.

He wore a typical leather chest plate and shoulder pads with a longsword hanging across his back.

"I want to confirm that money won't be an issue." He reached into his pocket and presented a gold coin. "It's all yours if you agree." The young man said with a smirk as if assuming the Foreseer relished in materialism.

Despite his crude attitude, the Foreseer politely gestured to the spot across from him. The young man made himself comfortable, leaning in expectantly as the Foreseer placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Relax," the Foreseer breathed.

The mounds around them disintegrated, and liquid azure rippled over the sky blue of his eyes as the Foreseer focused elsewhere.

As he closed his eyes, probing threads of radiance peeled from his psyche and reached into the indiscernible distance of the abyss. Familiar embers began to materialize, coalescing into vague shapes as the reaching threads gingerly tugged his consciousness through time.

The young man's outline sauntered through an invisible, boisterous crowd. The air reeked of ale and rang with clinking glass as his finger scanned something in front of him.

"This looks lucrative." His voice echoed above the somewhat distant noise.

The Foreseer's mind leapt forward, and he found the young man in another glimpse. His sword was in two, and he clutched his wrist that was missing its hand, his essence flickering dangerously. The gaps in his essence suggested his body was ravaged, and a deep roar bludgeoned the air from an unknown assailant. The youth retreated, and the Foreseer took pity on him.

His mind sprang forward again, and he saw the man back within the boisterous crowd. He spoke desperate words of negotiation to someone the threads couldn't quite reach, then shouted in frustration.

"You're saying I risked my life for nothing?!" He seethed.

"—sorry, but an incomplete mission yields no—"

He could barely tell that it was a woman he was speaking to, her voice almost blending into the background noise as the youth was the Foreseer's focus.

"Fine." He gnashed his teeth. "There's plenty of work to be had anyway."

He then blindly snatched something from a wall and stormed off.

The Foreseer released the threads of radiance, and the scene dissolved, bringing him back to the now. He opened his eyes to see the young man leaning forward with anticipation.

The youth's mission was clear—his personal mission. However, his pursuit would be his downfall. Usually, he wouldn't give his clients details, but if it meant saving them from the jaws of fate...

The Foreseer looked at him with soft but warning eyes. "Your unshakable drive is admirable, but that can fog good judgment."

The young man leaned back and looked at him with puzzlement, but the senior continued before he could ask for clarification.

"If you wish to chase wealth, I would suggest you choose a different profession."

The youth lightly swatted the Foreseer's hand off his shoulder, offense creeping onto his features. "And what's that supposed to mean?"

The Foreseer held up a placating hand. "Suffering awaits you—perhaps even death. Though you are wise enough to retreat, your pride will drag you back into the fray."

The young man narrowed his gaze. The Foreseer wasn't sure if this was a meaningless attempt to intimidate, but he was unbothered regardless. Then, the young man rose to his feet and flicked the gold coin at his feet.

"I see I've wasted my time and money coming here."

"If I may ask, what was the purpose of your visit if you are heedless of advice?"

"I'm not trusting the word of some old man who hasn't seen me in action." He answered, the blatant arrogance in his words astounding the Foreseer.

"One does not need to see your combative capabilities. The aftermath of your battles, leaving you marred, is telling." The Foreseer countered.

A muscle in the youth's face twitched as his eyes simmered with anger. His hand flashed to his sword's handle, and he pulled it from its sheath with a flourish. As the blade whistled through the air to strike, the Foreseer simply lifted a finger and fired a spike that stopped just mere inches before his throat.

The young man froze, a bead of sweat sliding down his cheek. Deep denim bled over the Foreseer's irises as frigid air rolled from his being. The youth gulped, the only audible sound that almost echoed the cold silence that descended upon the forest.

"Leave." The Foreseer said, the single word releasing the tension.

He released his hold on the spike, and it disintegrated into a heap beneath the blanket of radiance, allowing the young man the opportunity to depart. The youth ground his teeth but didn't attack again. With his pride wounded, he spun and stomped off like a child would after enduring a scolding.

The Foreseer let out a sigh as the youth disappeared into the brush. Slipping the gold coin in his pocket, he continued his meditation to melt away the remnants of irritation.

His day continued with his usual studies and light experimentation. The sun began to arc back towards the horizon when he'd finished training. Even after the elixir's effects wore off, he tested the limits of his reserves and was satisfied to see some improvement. He'd have to record his findings later on.

When he arrived back at his home, he found an older gentleman standing at his front door as if waiting for someone to answer. To not startle him when approaching unannounced, the Foreseer cleared his throat to grab the man's attention.

"Is there something I can help you with, sir?" He asked, though he already had a good idea as to why he was there.

The man's lime green eyes studied him for a moment or two. "Are you the one they call the Foreseer?"

"I am," he answered simply.

A delighted smile flashed across the man's face for a second as he dug in his satchel. "Perfect. I'm sorry if this is any inconvenience, but I'd like your services if you're willing."

The Foreseer's sharp senior features softened as he stepped in front of the man, opened the door, and gestured inside. "I am willing."

The man bowed gratefully and entered. The Foreseer motioned him to take a seat at a round table and offered him a beverage. When he politely declined, the Foreseer joined him at the table.

The man placed three gold coins in his hand. "I hope this will cover it."

"This is quite generous. Are you certain?" The Foreseer double-checked. When the man bobbed his head in assurance, the Foreseer pocketed the money. "What is it you seek?"

"My daughter is going on vacation to River Town with her friends. I've heard about the coexistence there, but I would like to know if she'll really be okay." He answered almost pleadingly. "It's a bit silly, I know."

The Foreseer shook his head in understanding. "There is nothing silly about simply fulfilling your duty as a father." His words smoothed out the man's body language. "Pardon me." He said before placing his hand on his shoulder.

His eyes shifted to a more azure coloration before he closed them. Like he'd done numerous times, he released the threads of his radiance within the void. They wormed into the black distance until they caught on something and took his consciousness with them.

Embers swirled through space in the shape of the vague outline of his client. But as requested, this was not going to be his focus, and so he searched deeper. As he steered the threads away, into the heart of where the soft fabric of the gentleman's affection lies, his form dissolved and a new person began to take shape: a slender woman with short hair.

The Foreseer silently followed the embers through the void as she talked and laughed with people whom he could only assume were her closest companions. Animalistic grunts and splashing waters sounded in the background as she stooped down to feed something to a creature beyond his focus.

Despite the weight of the inky darkness, her gleeful nature still reached him through the abyss. Jumping from one scene to another, he confirmed her well-being.

There were no signs of harmful intent coming from the monsters.

With his job coming to a satisfying end, he left the comforting warmth of the man's heart, the woman's embers coming undone. As he was about to dispel the threads, however, one of them snagged on something in the distance. Thinking nothing of it, he tried again, but it refused.

'Hmm...'

Though he could've snipped the thread, he entertained his sliver of curiosity and let the strand of radiance take his mind off course. As he rode the thread, the gentleman's signature grew fainter until nothing remained. He was truly alone within the vast expanse of black.

Periodically, he would try pulling the thread free, but it still wouldn't budge. It was as if it wished to show him something. He wasn't sure how long it had been since he began following the thread. The journey seemed like an eternity.

He tried separating himself from it but couldn't quite pull away, as if his consciousness was somehow fused with the thread. With greater force, he tried to shear it apart.

Still fruitless.

The strange feeling of being held against his will by his own "gift" left him with a sense of dread, but he kept it in check. With no other choice, he relaxed and let it take him through the darkness.

After a long while, his mind perked up when a purple speck of light twinkled to life in the distance. A surge of anticipation suddenly wiped any trace of anxiousness that had been building up as his consciousness did the equivalent of leaning forward.

As if within the bowels of a deep tunnel, the light grew more prominent, more harsh. Then came the indiscernible sounds that seemed...far from the mere idle chatter and conversation he was accustomed to.

The light drew closer, now a fiery violet blaze, and he tried to sever himself from the apathetic thread, but to no avail once again. When he reached his destination, his senses collided with the revolting stench of decay and raw cries that echoed off one another in a jarring symphony.

He reeled, but the thread responded with a jerk forward, forcing him to bear witness. But he couldn't. The explosion of sensation sent shockwaves through his consciousness, and for the first time, he felt as if his mind would snap if he traversed too far.

It was too much.

His mind quaked against the strain and sensory overload as he pulled. He tightened his grip, the desperation pouring into his effort affording him the strength he needed. The thread shivered, the pressure snapping the amber fibers one by one until finally...

With a crystalline rupture, his consciousness wrenched back into the present, and his eyes shot open as he gasped for air. His body jolted violently from the abrupt transition, and he nearly toppled out of his seat, heaving and sweating.

The client startled, his concerned hands hesitating over the Foreseer. "A-are you okay? Should I fetch some water?"

The Foreseer remained quiet as he gripped his racing heart. His hands trembled as he focused on each shaky breath to quell his feral nerves.

"Please say something," the client pleaded.

After regaining enough composure, the Foreseer wiped his brow and rested his forehead in his palm. "Rest assured, you have nothing to worry about regarding your daughter."

Even with his eyes on the floor, the lowering of his client's hands told him he was relieved, but the subtle shift of his feet still said he was worried after the Foreseer's episode.

"I must apologize. There is some business I must attend to." The Foreseer lied so his client wouldn't probe further.

Reluctantly, the man nodded, stood from his chair, and bowed. "Thank you for your time."

He then left, the sound of the door clicking shut plunging the cottage into an uneasy silence that the Foreseer was once comfortable with. He stayed there, his mind carefully reviewing the horrible vision to gain insight now that he was mostly calm. But all he could recall were tormented screams and a vague, hellish landscape.

There was a part of him that didn't want to know what he saw or heard.

Then there was the thread's refusal to give way.

'Stress perhaps?'

That must've been the culprit. Or rather, that's what he wanted to believe, as he didn't want to entertain the alternative...

He decided to leave his duties unfinished and retired to his room for the rest of the day. Moonlight trickled through the canopy and in through his windows as he lay in bed.

As his body relaxed, his mind drifted outside the bounds of reality. His subconscious pulled itself to the forefront and began to conjure a dreamscape of a grand city, the air ringing with conversation and laughter. As he walked through the crowd, the citizens and rangers oblivious to his presence, he stumbled upon a taut thread of mystical amber that stretched from one end of the city to the other.

He wasn't sure why, but he felt compelled to approach. As he did, a foreboding sensation of dread began to press down on him. Despite the weight, however, he extended a hand towards it. The cheerful sounds of the people giving life to the city faded into a muddled mess of jargon, and with a lack of judgment induced by the dream, he touched the thread.

Immediately, his consciousness sped down the thread, the world stretching to an impossible degree. His surroundings crashed into unimaginable darkness before a purple light appeared at the end of the thread just as suddenly.

His mind slammed into the violet, hellish landscape he'd seen before. The same pained cries tore at his ears, and the metallic stench of blood assaulted his nose. Somehow, it was more manageable this time, allowing him to catch a glimpse of the world around him.

Remnants of a raging inferno had devoured the cityscape, leaving a depressing atmosphere in its wake that clung to the skeletal frames of buildings once towering proudly. Flames of violet amber licked the wounded streets and dilapidated walls, seeming to sap the city's vigor. Tortured bellows sent waves of despair through the desolation, their chilling symphony seeping into his bones.

The purple amber suddenly began to writhe and squirm. Their flames elongated, then clashed with one another with horrible howls as they violently coalesced into the vague shapes of humanoids. Their forms thrashed with deathly violet with abyssal accents, and holes that stretched into oblivion burrowed into their heads where their eyes should be.

Hundreds, perhaps more, of these creatures—beings?—moved through the streets with tyrannical authority. Some leveled structures with effortless swipes of their hands, others marched down the ruined cobblestone like synchronized soldiers.

The thread that had deposited him there began to weaken as he urgently pulled on it. When it finally snapped, his consciousness lurched from the jaws of the vision and threw him back into reality. His body flinched upright, drenched in sweat as he clenched his fists around his sheets, the soft fabric helping to ground himself.

He shook his head, pained wails still echoing like an itch under the skin he couldn't relieve himself of. And the images of infernal beings were still fresh in his mind.

Now restless, he went to his study and tossed the few books he had on beasts onto his desk. Dusting off the covers, he plunged into their content. However, he couldn't find anything that came close to resembling what he saw after hours of research.

He bookmarked his place and snatched another thick book on the three rims from a neighboring shelf. Sifting through its pages, he once again found nothing on the rims that would inhabit these beings.

His knee bounced under the desk as his focused multicolored eyes sped over the pages. There was a crucial piece of information on these beings that he wasn't willing to acknowledge. Because doing so would drastically change the context of their existence. But the more he read and found nothing on them, the less of a choice he had.

These beings...they emitted strong radiant signatures, even when standing idle. This suggested they weren't beings at all, but rather spells.

He snatched another book from a shelf behind him and searched relentlessly. Surely the recorded abilities of historical figures would hold the answers to casting hundreds of beings that act on their own accord. He read up on their specialties, but again, there wasn't anything on summons.

Rays of light began to peek through his windows, and his relentless pursuit for answers had earned him nothing but baggy eyes and a dull headache. Pushing himself away from the chaotic surface of his desk, he staggered to the front door.

The horizon sent beams of morning light through the golden bamboo. He followed them out into his usual clearing and sank into a cross-legged position, the shifting grass extending to welcome him back. Perhaps clearing the cobwebs in his mind would give him the clarity he needed.

Resting his hands on his knees, he closed his eyes and focused on his breathing. The calm winds played with his albino hair as his mind slipped into a comfortable silence.

He floated in the expanse of nothingness, the soft choir of distant chirps singing over nature's tune adding to the solitude. The gentle sway of golden bamboo began to wash away his worries.

He imagined himself strolling through its canopy to further soak in the earthen air. The amber droplets from their leaves above dribbled, absorbing into the fertile soil. Looking up, he found a leaf producing a larger droplet than the rest.

As it grew heavy, the droplet's weight freed it from the leaf's hold and hurtled towards him. He held out a hand to catch it, and the moment it smacked his palm, it shot out to both sides of him in a wiry, thin thread.

Against his will, he felt himself being dragged along the thread.

There was a purple light.

Haunting screams.

Then came the ruins of the cityscape, its oppressive atmosphere ripping away the peaceful air he'd sought. Though he was now incorporeal, he felt the force of fear shackle him in place from the sight before him.

The violet beings were still plowing through the city unabated. The screams were still ever-present, wails of agony colliding with one another in a discordant harmony. Only this time, he could trace the source.

They were coming from the violet beings themselves. Yet despair never showed on their featureless faces.

Looking up, an impossible number of dark husks in the vague shape of people hung lifeless in the somber amethyst skyline. The world trembled with vicious energy as the violet beings moved purposely through the streets, their mere presence siphoning the vitality in the air.

As he looked on in foreboding horror, the air flashed with a crackling eruption of purple light that seemed to quake existence itself. The violet beings abruptly stopped their mutilation of the city and turned in unison towards something looming above them. The wails of agony turned to raw, desperate pleas as they all calmly sank to a knee and bowed their flaming heads.

The Foreseer pried himself with all his might from the thick foliage of anxiety just enough to look up. A humanoid silhouette that wasn't there before levitated overhead. Amethyst lightning flickered around its body threateningly, its broad frame swallowing the only remaining light he had. A web of jagged antlers protruded from its forehead, arcing towards the dark sky.

He didn't know what it was, nor did he wish to find out. He only knew that he needed to leave.

His gaze went to the thread. His will to escape struggled against its suffocating pressure as he tugged on the thread that had abducted and cast him into this reality. However, as he did, the figure's head perked up a fraction of an inch. He froze, uncertain if his eyes were deceiving him.

Visions were meant to be scenes of what lies on the horizon. So when the horned being glanced back to peer down at him with its icy amber gaze, a petrifying chill ripped through his incorporeal body.

It watched silently as he yanked on the thread before it tore in two.

His consciousness raced back to the clearing within the bamboo forest. His body lurched, and he fell to his hands and knees, panting. The warmth of the now afternoon sun nor the soft grass between his shaky fists did nothing to comfort his raging heart.

He jumped to his feet and sprinted to his cottage. Slamming open the door, he went straight to his study. Only this time, his eyes didn't go to any history book or research paper. They went to a specific shelf across from him.

There was a maddening jitter to his stride as he crossed the room and plucked a vial filled with a blue liquid from a shelf. Whatever that horned being was, he was certain it was responsible for the future he'd glimpsed into.

He doubted mankind was strong enough to combat what was to come. But would mere enhancement elixirs be enough to divert the course of fate? Perhaps running would be a more viable option. But with such a sizable force, where would they flee to?

He studied the elixir; his troubled expression was reflected in its coloration. His irises swam with frantic glaucous colors as his mind filtered through countless detouring paths, most of which would undoubtedly lead to the same grim destination.

His lips pressed into a thin line, and he tightened his fist around the vial as he reached a verdict. If they couldn't steer clear of this divine-like being, they would need to confront it.

PRESENT:

The Savior's eyes fluttered open. The blistering winds whipped his snowy hair as he hurtled through the open sky. Although the ground rushed up to meet him, the fear of striking stone couldn't get a foothold over his sheer trepidation of the impending threat.

His rings glowed through his cracked armor with a ferocity born from vicious desperation. A thick blanket of white amber rolled over the earth, covering the remnants of battle, and with a sharp twist of his hand, the scarred terrain began to warp.

He heard the faint panicked shouts of scattering rangers over the deafening winds as shattered weaponry conglomerated horribly with boulders and rupturing bamboo.

The marred meadow screeched to life as earthen spires rocketed towards the Savior. As they approached rapidly, their tips widened into beds of compacted soil to cushion his fall. Upon landing with a dull thud, his hands immediately worked to forcefully mold the earth further.

"It would appear I am guilty of underestimation." The words were singed with cold fury as the world wormed and writhed into the shape he saw fit.

He saw a dim dot of amber rush out of the cavernous chamber in a panic as he reached for the Vault. Its iron foundations sheared and gave way before the moving ground heaved the Vault skyward.

The bed he stood on curled inward into a body, and the spires thickened into gargantuan appendages for support. When the Vault reached the abomination, the torso consumed it, tucking it safely within its innards.

"But I will not make the same mistake twice."