Authors: D.W. Rigsby
Vetus Sepher sat down, his elbows resting on his knees. “Petro, there is no easy way to explain what is happening. Your place in this world, well…” He exhaled. “It’s too much for a young man such as yourself, but there is no easy way here. There is a prophecy, you’ve learned, and…well, you are part of it. At least it looks that way. We have been watching you, to see if there were signs, and…” He sat back. “We never expected this. I can’t even explain to you why you were able to do what you did. I can, however, tell you how I can do it.”
Petro’s eyes zeroed in on Vetus Sepher.
“What I am to tell you cannot go beyond the two of us. I must have your trust in this,” Vetus Sepher said.
Petro nodded.
“Good. We call it time shifting. Spearca is experiencing changes in time, but it affects everything and everyone. It’s when the world jumps backward, and everything and everybody jumps with her.” Petro was about to speak, but then Vetus Sepher raised his hand to quiet him. “Hold your thought. Certain Numas—not all—have been entrusted with wearing a device that allows us to experience the time jump. Think of it this way: we all experience time at the moment it occurs but when a shift happens we are all carried along the time jump, and our minds and actions are reset. This device”—he showed Petro his belt buckle—“allows me and others who have it to remember what happened. We all go through the experience, just like everyone else, but we don’t forget. But you don’t need this device, and that’s what makes you different.”
Petro leaned on his thoughts, turning inward. He could see what Vetus Sepher meant. “So what I’ve experienced was not seeing the future. It was going back in time through this time shift. Do the Numas control when a time shift happens?”
Vetus Sepher sat up straight. “No, we don’t. It’s random—happens when it happens. There’s no known pattern we can discern.”
“There is a pattern—at least, I think there is. If I am the one to fulfill the prophecy of the Coming, then maybe when I’m in mortal danger, Spearca shifts time. I just thought of that,” Petro said. And when he said it, he knew he could use this to his advantage, to put a stop to the Father’s schemes against Dugual.
“It’s possible, but from what we’ve witnessed, it’s random.”
“It is random, most of the time,” Petro blurted out. “But we both know I should have died. We both know I’m alive for a reason. That cannot be random. That cannot be coincidence.”
Vetus Sepher nodded. “Yes, I see what you mean. We know there is a purpose for the time shifts, and we believe there will be a great upheaval on Spearca when all we know changes.”
Petro leaned forward. “How do you know?”
Vetus Sepher let out his breath. “We don’t actually know. What we do know is that time shifts are happening. Petro, tell me, what did you do to change the outcome with the boar?”
The air passed through the tree limbs above, and the songbirds played their sweet music in the trees.
Petro swallowed hard. “Someone tampered with my shotgun shells. I found yellow shells painted over with green, to make them look like slugs.”
The moment was thick between them, Vetus Sepher was silent, and Petro looked off into the woods around them.
“We will need to look into this, and we’ll need to send out scouts to Dugual. If any scouts spot danger coming, we can at least notify King Amerstall of it,” Vetus Sepher said. “Much has happened, and there is much more to come, Petro. Do you understand?”
Petro knew deep down that everything had changed—his entire life had changed. Nothing was what it seemed. And yes, he did understand what Vetus Sepher meant. “I’m ready.” He reached out with his hand. Vetus Sepher took it.
“Good. There is much to do yet—several more years to prepare you for what is to come. And do we know what is to come? No, we don’t, and that is why we prepare and must be ready; you must be ready. God has chosen you, Petro.” Vetus Sepher held up his hands, and Petro followed along as they chanted:
“All be the same, night or day…”
“For You who are with us, be still and listen to our brothers speak. They come to us from the grave and spread their wisdom…”
“And for our brothers we are forever grateful…”
“And hear us, O Lord, for we live in You, as You live in us. We are Your vessels, and You are our will…”
“And as we are in You and You are in us, our lives are eternal.”
The witch came, and though I did not want her aid, it was worth immeasurably more than my own pride. I need time: time for what I must do, time to find a way to extend my life and stave off what plagues my body, time to find the hidden truth the Numas hide from us all, time to see a new generation of my family line, and to see them war, to see them well, to see them rule.
—From
The Journal of the Father, King of Tallud
, by the Father
A
splash, and water enveloped the Father’s body; he held his breath and swam under the surface of his garden pool. He kicked like a frog, powering himself from one side to the other, taking his time, letting tiny bubbles of air trickle up until they broke the water’s plane. He reached the other side of the pool, turned his body, and kicked off the wall, kicking as he went along; more bubbles trailed behind him. He stopped in the center of the pool and looked up into the stars high above.
“I must wait. I must not give into my impulses, for if I do, all will surely be lost. Time is what I need, and I have that now.”
He dove back under the water and swam along with such grace, gliding as if he were born to it. When he reached the other side, he come up out of the water, facing the wall, and lifted himself out. A servant rushed to his side, wrapped his waist with a towel, and then draped him with a robe.
He walked to the gazebo, upright, dignified, self-aware. “I will find a way to extend my life. I will live on, perhaps not in this body but in another. There are ways, my scientists have boasted, and they know me well. I reward those who provide results, and if their boasts are nothing but lies, then they shall be rewarded with the same.”
The Father plucked a grape from its bowl and bit down on it. The sweet flavor ran over his tongue and down his throat.
Maybe he could not live for eternity—he knew the current advances in technology would not allow it. But for another quarter of a life, perhaps a half of life, or double a life…There were possibilities. He only needed to extend his life perhaps one tenth of his age now to fulfill his legacy, and then it would be done. Spearca would forever be ruled by his line, and his line alone.
Here we are, and I am thrilled that you’ve read
Tokus Numas
. I’ve put in countless hours to bring this story to life, and there is a tremendous amount of content that never made it into this first book. I hope you find the time to leave a review. Your reviews mean a lot to me, and constructive feedback is always welcomed. I’ve been at this writing game for nine years now, in my spare time, and I’ve not published much to date. This is because I want to create high-quality stories, and I want to ensure that the reader enjoys what I’ve placed on the page. I know that at times it can be a challenge to read a book—to go into a world you know nothing about, hoping the author can give you something for your time. My goal is to be able to provide a story worthy of your time. Please visit Amazon.com and GoodReads.com, and find my book. I’d like to hear from you.
Sincerely,
D. W. Rigsby
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http://dwrigsby.com
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