Chapter 4 - The Timekeeper

The continuation of The Timekeeper. Read the preceding chapters to get a clue about it! :)

 

W

ait!” I exclaimed before she opened the letter.

“What?!” she similarly screamed at me, obviously delayed excitement from opening the letter.

I asked her a question that popped in my head. “Why did you wait for me to use my powers in entering the Palace? Why not use your own?”

“Because, Patrick-“

“I’m not Patrick. ”

“No, you’re Patrick Star, the idiotic starfish. Because, Spencer,” spitting every syllable of my name. “I have to use my Time Energy up in reading your mind if you are truly a Timekeeper. Anything else you want to ask?” she said exasperated.

I raised my hands in defense. “No, please. Be my guest. Open the letter.”

When she did, the paper only contained scrambled letters, with alternating width and height, and different structures. I looked at her inquisitively to see what she would be doing next. She breathed in then waved her hand slowly across the letter. I saw shimmering strands of gold pour from her hand towards the letter. I looked around to see if anyone was looking, to make sure that we’re safe. It’s not every day that you see a man and a woman holding a strange paper, with gold things emanating from the woman’s hand. The letters, surprisingly, moved on their own accord and formed distinct, but barely readable words, probably some Old World language.

I saw her ring glow orange one bright time then died. I pointed this out to her. “You’re ring just glowed orange. You do know what that means don’t you?”

“Of course I do.” Then turned her attention to the paper, shaking of the excess of old sands atop it.

“Wait a second: Timekeeper’s can do that?”

She looked at me with an expression that says “Really? You’re that dumb?”

“Do you know who wrote this?” she asked.

“The Man On the Moon.” I replied obediently.

“For whom did he write this?”

“For Timekeepers.”

“Don’t you think that if it were written for Timekeepers, it’s meant to be seen only by Timekeepers? Ergo, we have the power to unscramble it.”

“Well, sorry. I just went from mere mortal to Timekeeper in time minus three hours. You can’t expect me to understand it automatically.”

“Well you should because if you don’t, you will get killed instantly.” Diana turned the paper once more, glinting in the sunlight. I just looked on what she was doing, not wanting to be scolded again. Even if I am already twenty-five years old. Since she can read my mind, I guess she just didn’t want to argue, so she let it go.

Since I can’t read old, archaic inscriptions on a piece of parchment paper, I left her to do her thing. But then she tugged on my sleeve to make me see what’s happening. She pointed to a corner and started reading, urging me to go with her.

“The Others cannot continually hold it. Sandman has been gathering power from all corners of the Earth. I need you, Timekeepers, to unite with the others, though it is still not time to fight. Scour the face of the Earth, if need be. Do not worry, my child. I will be there to guide you.

-Man On the Moon

Before I knew it, the letter crumbled into dust, with the wind carrying it away before my very eyes. I looked at Diana, who seemed anxious and frustrated over a certain matter. Perhaps due to the news delivered by the letter. I asked her a relatively simple question: “What’s our plan?”

She immediately started briskly walking towards the other end of the bridge. “We have to find the Others. It is almost time to fight with the Minutemen.”

“Okay, back up. If Minutemen are the only problem, then why can’t the other Others handle them? Can’t Minutemen only control time? Surely there must be a limitation?”

“That’s the thing, Spencer: There is no known limitation of time. You see, time is constant, unchangeable by anyone save for them. Unlike those who have power over matter, those who have power over time are simply invincible, since they can just mold the outcome of scenario. If a Minuteman is trained enough and powerful enough,” she continued. “He would be able to control the future as well.”

“Then why don’t Timekeepers do that to ensure victory?”

“Simply put, if we do that, we won’t be different from Minutemen. We’d be using it for our personal gains.”

But I dragged it on, wheezing while walking. “But we will be different if we use it for greater good. Just give it some thought, Diana. If we could, then why not?”

“Because,” she told me, looking at me, exasperated. “We are bound by the rules we have to follow as Timekeepers. We should not explore beyond what is given to us. Controlling the outcome in the future is not a power given to us by the Man On the Moon. It was a power exploited for one purpose: to gain more power. But we shouldn’t. Because that is the creed of Minutemen. And we’re not Minutemen. We are the Guardians of Time: We are Timekeepers.”

We kept on walking in awkward silence until we reached a building with an underground pub. Walking in, we saw rows upon rows of men sitting and drinking and chatting loudly at the bar, over some beer. Diana came upon a bell with a rope and rang it thrice. All men looked at us, evidently pissed from their merry time. I gulped loudly.

She spoke immediately. “Man On the Moon. Timekeepers.” She motioned to both of us.

For a moment or two, we stared back at the men at the bar obviously waiting for someone to move already. Then in one swift moment, they all disappeared like smoke, with only one man remaining, quietly sipping his mug of beer. He rose to greet Diana and shook my hand. I mentally asked Diana who this person is. She didn’t disappoint.

She introduced me first. 

“Spencer, this is Clarence McGretin, owner of McGretin’s. He is a Projector and a close friend of mine. Clarence, allow me to introduce Spencer Pratt, a Timekeeper.” She motioned to the two of us. Clarence shook my hand firmly that my arm nearly fell off. I think he noticed this, since he just grunted in a low voice. He took us to a table and offered us a seat. “Good day. With what service may I be of help to you both?”

Diana did not waste any time in explaining what we need. 

“Clarence, as you know, there had been instances where Minutemen have been wreaking havoc everywhere. If you might recall, the bombing in the Sai Buri District in Thailand, the Twin Bombings North of Iraq, and the three simultaneous bombing in Mumbai, India, they were not caused by militants or terrorists: they were caused by Minutemen, who’re trying to destabilize nations upon nations.

“I need your help in tracking the Others, to help prepare for the upcoming battle that is yet to come. I, myself, have not even seen them. I don’t even have the personal desire to. But I have to, since it is what the Man On the Moon demands. Can you help us?”

Clarence looked at us with deep intent, scrutinizing every word uttered, perhaps weighing the options he can do. In the end, he rose and got his coat from the rack. “I don’t know how I can help you in seeing Them. But I will help you in whatever journey and trouble you might find yourself in.” he replied in a strong, dense Yorkshire accent, probably since he was born there.

We stepped out of the pub and walked away from the direction where we originally came from. I mentally asked Diana where we are going. She just shrugged. Looking around him, Clarence led us into a small alley where almost no light enters through, since the nearby buildings block the rays of light. He spoke with sudden clarity, with all traces of his accent gone. “I can’t help you. The Minutemen has already approached me and has threatened me if ever I would squeal. Although I am indebted eternally to the Man On the Moon, I simply cannot help you…yet. That’s why,” he pushed open a scraggly-looking door. “I introduce you to Kieran Knight, an Alchemyst.”

Out came a young man clothed in tailor-made clothes, obviously with great means in life. He bowed towards Clarence, and for both of us (Diana and I), he nodded, gesturing us to come inside.

McGretin continued his so-called “plan”. He ordered Kieran to produce a world map and lay it on the table. He did so immediately and without sound. Afterwards, he sat next to Diana, obvious that he has a crush on her. Not that I care or anything. Good luck with that.

Clarence, with a marker, dotted seven dots, all spread across the globe. He started to discuss what this means and why it is important. “The Others are divided into eight major categories, yes? The Timekeepers, Fliers, Builders, Movers, Sliders, Visionaires, the Alchemists, and the Projectors. Save for the Timekeepers, since they are almost always on the run in their little Time Chamber,  that leaves us with seven.”

“Each of these dots represent a city in which they had been spotted to cluster about.” He started to point towards a group of islands just off the coast of Argentina, near Antartica. “This here is the Falkland Islands. Here you will find the Masters of Air, or you might know them as Fliers, known for their control of air.”

He pointed to another dot, this time on Asia, near China and India. “In Kathmandu, the capital of Nepal, you will most likely find the Pillars of the Earth, commonly known as the Builders, with power to subdue and control Earth and everything by it. I’m sure you’re familiar with their work, most especially Mt. Everest?” he added while wriggling his eyebrows, which were a little discomforting.

He moved towards another dot located on a mass of islands scattered in a crescent-shape formation. “In Bali, Indonesia, you will find the Great Minds of Man, also known as the Movers, famous for their telekinesis. Please do note that while they are friendly, they will always regard visitors as foes.” He cautioned.

He slid his hand on the map to settle his finger on another dot on the continent of North America. “In Washington, D.C., you will find the Houdinis of the Earth, the Sliders, their power of which is to teleport. They are very tricky to talk to, if I’m not mistaken.” Diana and I just shared a look. Just from the looks of the map, getting there is the bigger problem.

Clarence settled his finger next to a place near the Vatican. “Historically, gypsies were said to possess powers of foresight. But due to their racial integration with Italy, the number of them diminished, since most of them died or went to hiding. Here you will find a number of Visionaires: the Sons of Prometheus. Just scour the streets and you’re bound to find one.”

His finger next travelled to a destination near U.K., where we currently are now. “In Paris, you will find the Alchemists, the Matter Masters, if you will,” then in a suddenly hushed tone, “Don’t call them that. They hate it.” He pointed at Kieran. “Since you’ve got an Alchemyst here, it won’t be very much hard.” I looked at Kieran, who was staring devotedly at Diana, who was just shrugging it off. I felt bad for the kid.

“And last but not the least,” he pointed at a spot near the eastern side of the Pacific Ocean on America. “Hollywood, Los Angeles, California. The hotspot for Projectors. We are known for our ability to deceive the mind. Where do you think all those video effects came from?” he smilingly concluded. “Are there any questions?”

We just looked and stared at each other, our minds blank from the sudden exhaustion of knowing all these things at once. I raised my hand. “How are we going to reach all those places? Because I sure as hell can’t afford those plane tickets.”

“Seconded.” Diana interjected.

“Well, the thing is, since Kieran has some, shall we say, ‘economic authority’, he will be with you all the way. I must admit, though, that his resources are limited as well. May I suggest that you first approach the Sliders in Washington, D.C., since they are highly invaluable, more so that you have a lot of travelling to do.” Clarence suggested.

I nodded slowly, Diana seemed to understand but was relatively at lost, but Kieran was unmoving. Clarence shooed as now, wanting us to move immediately. But I raised a very critical point. “You say we have to travel to the U.S. But the problem is, I don’t have a passport.”

“So do I.” Diana claimed. “How can we travel by, if ever, plane if we can’t enter the airport in the first place?”

Clarence McGretin chuckled, with Knight laughing as well, who’s now looking at us as if we’ve grown two heads. “Why, that’s where Kieran comes in. Show them what you’ve got.”

Kieran got out British passports, probably formerly owned by an elderly couple, indicated by the photos. He stared at me for a moment, then held his hand out in front of the passport of the old man. Right before my very eyes, the letters themselves moved. They grew legs then moved until they formed my name. Eerily, it knew my name and my other basic information. Then came the weird part: the old man’s face slowly morphed to become my very own face. I had to blink twice and pinch myself to convince myself that it really did happen. After that weird “trick”, he gave me my passport. He proceeded to work with Diana’s for a while. I guess he had to work hard since the old woman looked nothing like Diana. Even in the past life.

After some more briefing, Clarence bid us goodbye and good luck. “Remember, act fast. Always be wary of your surroundings. And please, please,” he almost pleaded. “Don’t forget to say to Him that I’m truly sorry for not being to help Him directly.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll tell him.” I told him comfortingly. In retrospect, it was the only time I spoke to Clarence McGretin. Ever.

After he departed, Kieran, Diana, and I looked at each other, with blank faces and minds. All of a sudden, Mr. Kieran Knight spoke with certainty. “We should go, now. We don’t want to be backtracked, do we? After all, we have a lot of things before us, yes?”

I looked uncomfortably at Diana. Oh boy, this is gonna be hell.

Author's Note

Please rate and review! Also, comments about the story of questions are all welcome and will be entertained. :)