Gaian Cosmology 1101-2.

[desolate]

Encarnacia met Donovan's gaze with twinkling eyes; if they were truly the windows into the soul, then Donovan could see her admiration, adoration and determination. She was used to getting what she wanted and she wanted him. Even if she had married the sahagin and remained a pretty little girl for the rest of forever, it was clear that she was the type who would have still been in charge. She was always in control, just as she was now, standing there as still as a statue and as regal as a sculpture crafted by one of the masters while she allowed Donovan to attend to her whim.

"Pretty," she said absently when Donovan took out the ring, but she was still looking at him. It was more than a ring, to both of them. It was a symbol of Donovan's commitment to his training as a disciple under the Guardian; it was a symbol of his growth into the young man she had grown fond of; it was now a symbol of the bond between them, a sentiment that would rest on her dainty hand, and more importantly in her heart for the rest of her days.

"Exactly like that," she curtsied low enough to place a gentle kiss on Donovan's forehead and rose. "You're right. It's not fair, but you saved me from it. You're my hero, Donovan," she paused. "Before we continue, let me call my apprentice to get rid of that. Piercing Genesis?"

The sound of a door opening and closing somewhere past the mountains of cold, but no footsteps accompanied them. After a few seconds, a teenage, but recognizable Piercing Genesis appeared beside Encarnacia, dressed in his characteristic Gaian robe fashioned into tradition Arcantian garb. He bowed low to Encarnacia and Donovan. "What can I do for you, my lady?"

"Your training for today consists of constructing a prison for that."

"Would your guest like anything?" he asked without missing a beat, manners having been beaten into him.

"Donovan, would you like anything? Mead, perhaps?"

[Faustus]

Donovan blushed wildly, like a schoolgirl, when Encarnacia kissed his forehead. It wasn't his first kiss . . . at least he didn't think so. A fair share of his dreams were occupied by thoughts of kissing, the occasional image of Acacia (who he'd met by the peach tree near the academy grounds) or Corinth (the princess he and Michael rescued from an orc-kingdom) but mostly just kissing in general. It got to be a bit hard picking out the real from the imagined, but Donovan was certain he'd kissed a girl before so that couldn't be why he blushed.

No, it had something to do with Encarnacia specifically. They looked like they were about the same age but Donovan knew her to be much, much older than he and any other girl he'd ever met regardless of what she looked like. And in this came a certain regality of composure, sophistication of speech and mannerism, that struck Donovan as so dissonant to his usual concept of a teenage girl that he found himself inexorably pulled to her.

The boy finally rose. Turned when he heard the door open and then . . .

Shock and awe! Shock and awe!

Bells ringing in his head, nettles sprayed across extremities and up his back in a shower of slightly painful sensation.

"P-p-p . . . Genesis?"

Donovan was only now starting to fully appreciate how deep down the rabbit hole he'd gone. And, more importantly still, that he'd gone back in time. His mind had been pawing at that conclusion for some time now, the closest it had come to that answer was when he saw Encarnacia clutching the stone he knew he still had, but time-travel never hit him in full. Now, seeing his mentor so young and unfamiliar, Donovan understood.

"J-just water. Please."

He spoke to Genesis by proxy of Encarnacia, unwilling to make extended eye-contact with him, and said no more. The implications of what transpired around him were, too, greater than he could grasp but the shadows of those implications were in clear sight. Namely, he did not understand in what way he might affect the future by meddling with the past, or even what constituted as meddling, but he knew that if he did not tread carefully disaster was sure to follow.

Donovan remained silent until Genesis left them.

"Encarnacia . . . where am I? What am I doing here? Why me?"

Come now foolish boy. Questions are what started this frenzied venture. Do you think that questions will end it?

[desolate]

Encarnacia smirked for an instant. It was an ugly expression for her; arrogance looked wrong on that doll face. Whether she was pleased with herself by Donovan's blushing or by his reaction to his Arcantian mentor's sudden appearance wasn't clear, but after that instant her eyes seemed ashamed and wandered over the heaping riches in her hoard.

"Water," Piercing Genesis nodded, but did not go. That uncanny sneer of his surfaced as the reflection of electricity danced in his green eyes. "Your inferotemporal cortex is lighting up. You recognize my face, but I don't recognize yours, Donovan." He showed his left arm, whereupon was carved the prominent runes of Zare, God of Thunder and All that Understands, to demonstrate why he knew what he did.

Silence was all he received.

He narrowed his eyes and glared at Encarnacia, then turned and stormed away. On his way out, he snapped his fingers and a spark ignited behind the sahagin chief's eyes. Like a loyal dog, the electrified slave stood and followed after Piercing Genesis without a word. He did not return with the glass of water, but Encarnacia pressed one to Donovan's lips. It was pure and tasteless, as water was meant to be.

"You're 10 years in the past. Don't worry, love. The future is the way it is because of what you do here, because the way you are. How and why do you think Piercing Genesis finds you in that elven village? That is why. And because I love you." she wrapped an arm around Donovan's neck.

"So just be yourself," Encarnacia whispered and replaced the glass with her lips and pushed Donovan onto a hill of sparkling baubles. "Just act natural."

__________

Whoa.

__________

Encarnacia stood up and wobbled. She slipped back into the gray robe she had been wearing. "I can send you back anytime, but you'll have to finish what you've started."

[Faustus]

In just a few short and softly spoken sentences, Encarnacia turned Donovan's world onto its head. She not only confirmed that time manipulation occurred at some level but also inexorably implicated the boy as progenitor of his own destiny. His jaw hung slightly slack. Not enough to give him the face of a fool or an ass, but enough to clearly emphasize his awe. Encarnacia settled the turbulence thrashing against his ribcage, thumping wildly like a war drum, with but a few words and a single touch.

It said something of the boy's temperament that, despite being surrounded by the riches of a thousand kings, he barely batted an eyelash at the mounds of gold and jewels. It said something else entirely, but much along the same vein, the manner in which he looked Encarnacia in the eye. She pressed her lips against his. A kiss. Electric though brief.

Donovan parted from her. He didn't draw away completely, he anticipated torture to pry himself away from the warmth of her body in this cold and alien place, but he needed to think. He pushed past the haze of hormones and desire the likes of which he had never felt, not to this degree at least, and thought. Called to mind the image of the mirror taking up space in his pocket. He knew what mirrors meant in his world, could reason what they meant in this world, but gave it no more thought.

He turned back to Encarnacia, held momentarily rapt by her beauty, and . . .

__________

Whoa.

__________

"I feel . . ." Satisfied. "Different." Donovan had one arm tucked behind his head, something of a natural pillow to protect his skull from the hard gold coins he lay upon; the rest of his body rested easily on these, long ago grown indifferent to discomfort and hardship. He was, of course, completely nude. A silk sheet strewn about his lower body the only thing conserving his modesty, of which there seemed to be very little now.

Donovan watched her blatantly, smirked without knowing why when he saw her wobble, and looked away only when she covered herself with the robe. He did nothing yet. Nothing but look up at the vaulted ceiling above them and slowly, but surely, increase his awareness of the ruby digging into his right butt cheek.

"Oh." Donovan sat up and stared at Encarnacia's back. "I thought we were finished. Is there more?"

[desolate]

"Different is good. Never stagnate, Donovan." Encarnacia turned around and winked. What exactly was she implying slash suggesting there? "We are d—"

"Donovan! I hope you did what you needed to do because I'm bringing you back!" Vaile's voice came from the mirror. It trembled in Donovan's discarded clothes; the star seemed to quiver, if only slightly.

"Remember, Donovan, I will always be with you, but we both know this place is abandoned 10 years from now." She seemed sad and confused at the same time, speaking as quickly as possible before the inevitable occurred. "If you ever need to talk to me again, there is a place in Biazo—"

__________

Too late.

The world unraveled, as if someone tugged free a bunch of important threads, which rotated clockwise around Donovan like a lazy tornado. Abruptly, the broken tapestry was woven anew and Donovan was back in the spell circle, which was no longer active; it was merely a bunch of chalk dust all over the ground along with a puddle of water that was once the spirit.

Vaile stood in the same place as before. One of the local Gaian priests was in his company. The Peace Keeper had a grim expression, but the sudden appearance of nude Donovan was quite funny and caused him to chuckle. What, precisely, had gone on with that spirit?

"I told you, change the person and you change the spirit. Looks like you won by gaining some wisdom. Check your mirror." He paused to give Donovan a chance to get dressed and look why Vaile had asked him to purchase one from the school store in the first place.

Spoiler:

Item gained:
¬Name: Mirror.
Combat Rank: F.
Composition: Glass.
Size: Pocket.
Description:
The mirror contains a geomid that will analyze and provide data, sometimes in the form of a simulation, for objects reflected by the mirror by eating the geomids of those objects. Currently it can only analyze small objects, but it will grow as it consumes more information.
Geomid Abilities
Power Swap: Exchanges the user's offensive capabilities with those of the target.
Guard Swap: Exchanges the user's defensive capabilities with those of the target.
Skill Swap: Exchanges the user's skills with those of the target.
Psych Up: Copies both positive and negative status effects of the target.

"Is there anything you want to ask me before I end class?" Vaile jerked his thumb toward the window. It was already dark, near midnight. Class was almost over.

[Faustus]

Donovan looked first to the mirror, relieved that what he'd done with his bride wasn't televised to Vaile (as he suspected might be the case, but the concern faded away in the pursuit of carnal desires), then distressed at what news Vaile brought with him. Donovan did not want this reverie to end but he knew, knew without doubt, that his time with her was number. He fought the instinct to talk over her, succeeded, and then spurted out his last few words as quickly as he could.

"Don't forg—"

He reached out and the dream ended. The mounds of gold melted away; the castle unthreaded and collapsed; Encarnacia faded into the mist.

"Et me . . ."

Donovan didn't look up at Vaile right away, but nodded as he spoke. He roughed his palms against both of his eyes and rubbed away any evidence of tears to be found there. When he felt sufficiently sober Donovan gathered his clothes and dressed quietly. He checked his mirror when instructed to do so. The geomid stared up at him, cute and inquiring enough to make Donovan smile but the smile last only briefly.

He put the mirror away and rose to his feet, gathering all of his amenities.

"Do I," He sniffled some. Didn't look up. "Do I get to go back? Is there a way to go back?"

Whatever the answer, it didn't change the course of events. A yes or a no, Donovan would merely nod, thank the professor kindly for all of his time and knowledge, inform him that today had provided him much insight and that he needed to think, and then walked to the dorms.

[desolate]

Professor Vaile—who grew fonder of his title every moment and perhaps had some grand plans for this academy's future in mind after these super fun cosmology courses encouraged his teaching spirit—pulled a green handkerchief out of thin air with a black D engraved in fancy lettering on its corners. He stuffed it in Donovan's hand rather forcefully before he left and whispered, "Yeah. There's always a way, if you want it badly enough." He said nothing about anything silly like consequences; those pesky things were what forged heroes, weren't they?

On the back of the handkerchief was an address scrawled in red ink.

__________

Piercing Genesis slammed the trident into a notch in the ground of the prison he had constructed beneath Mt. Blaurg, allowing it to function as a lever to release its captive. As it filled with water, he regarded the sahagin chief a final time. "Remember, remember, who it is your people should dismember?" He thrust the tip of his index finger into the beast's squamous forehead, engraving in its last dying breath, not to be released for another 10 years, Donovan's name. Once finished, Genesis strolled back to Lady Encarnacia's room through a spiral staircase that connected the newly built Seventh Mansion to the other six.

"My lady, what a somber expression! Has your guest retired for the evening?"
"He. . . went home."
"Who was he, this Donovan, that your eyes are now filled with tears?"
"He is none other than my beloved groom—"
"I believe you meant to say your widower, my lady."
"W-what? No. . . stop!"
"How red brings out the green in your eyes!"
"U-u-ugh. . . G-Genesis. . ."
"You are welcome! Now you have nothing more to fear."