To make matters worse, he didn't know the date or time at which they'd be deployed. He'd entrusted all of it to Hartwell, including the security. He said it felt like somebody was watching his every move at the time, so he took his precautions.

"Well, at least I have an advantage," I said out loud, trying to wrap my head around things. "I can go back in time and fix it. I'll tell Osgar to never follow that woman. In fact, we'll capture her and get her to show us a way inside Fort Mercer."

Stalwart snorted. "If you succeed in going that far, and that is a big if," he said. "You'll just be giving Hartwell a reason to strike. The only reason he hasn't attacked you yet is because I ordered it."

And that was it. Stalwart had given me an idea without even realizing it. I had to get some more information out of him if I wanted this thing to work.

"We won't give Hartwell any time to retaliate," I said. "He'll be waiting for your order to strike."

"I didn't choose Hartwell to lead the underworld branch on a whim," Stalwart said. "He knows what to do when things deviate from the plan."

"So you're saying that if I manage to go back in time, capture Ms. Hartwell, and get her to show us a way into Fort Mercer, Hartwell won't get in touch with you?" I asked.

"That's exactly what I'm –" Stalwart stopped right in his tracks. He eyed me with a confused frown for a while then smiled. "You foxy little thing," he said. "Well played, getting information out of me like that. You blew it though."

"I didn't blow anything," I said. "Thanks for the information though." I got to my feet and stretched my limbs. "Well, it's been educational, grandpa."

"Whatever you think you'll do," he said as I walked away from him. "You'll face the same result. And oh, don't think traveling back in time isn't going to catch up with you."

"Whatever old man," I said.

I willed my essence to activate then realized something that made my heart jump.

"You don't know how to get out, do you?" Stalwart called out to me.

I didn't know how to get out of this s.p.a.ce. I've always been drawn into it by the old man. I've always been thrown out as well thanks to him. I've never attempted to get inside alone. I wasn't inside the Fragment, or traveling through my own conduits. I was in a s.p.a.ce that wasn't mine.

"Will you let me out?" I asked.

Stalwart chuckled. "No," he answered.

He turned around and walked away. I made to run after him but he vanished into thin air. I blinked, and the old man disappeared. I looked around. An infinite blank, annoyingly white s.p.a.ce welcomed me. Far off in the distance, my Fragment floated like a giant flying mountain.

"Ha ha," I screamed. "We had an agreement, remember? You've got to let me out!"

"Why?" Stalwart's voice echoed around me. "You're exactly where I want you. You know my secret."

"We agreed that as long as you tell me about your plans, I'd never say a word about you to anyone," I protested.

"But we never agreed on me letting you out of here," Stalwart said. "If you're so eager to leave, you can always ask your gift of power."

I looked at the Fragment. It wasn't that far away. All I had to do was walk a few miles to reach it. It wasn't hard to get lost either. I was in a blank s.p.a.ce with nothing but a giant snow flake floating in the distance. I just needed walk over there, but something told me it wasn't going to be as simple as it seemed...

And it wasn't.

I'd been walking for about an hour when I realized that the Fragment looked exactly the same as an hour ago. Then more hours pa.s.sed, and I didn't get any closer to my destination. So my mind drifted into different scenarios in which I take down Hartwell and escape my grandfather's clutches.

Hartwell wouldn't contact Stalwart even if things deviate too much from the plan. This meant that if I caught him unaware, I would have a shot at saving Osgar and getting the helm at the same time. I could even use my grandfather's tactics against him.

The more I thought about it, the more it made sense to me. The plan took form inside my head. I could see every scenario, every possible weakness and ways to strengthen them. The plan had its flaws, sure, but it was our only way against Hartwell.

Then I started thinking about Hartwell. I realized that we didn't know much about the man. All we knew came from Raiya. She had been investigating him while searching for me. All she uncovered, however, was that Hartwell bore Qil'Al's Fragment. Qil'Al, in case you forgot, is the Primordial Lord of death. Lemien, the necromancer, had one such Fragment.

Hartwell, however, was not a necromancer. He didn't have an army of brainless undead prowling about the street of Merinsk. He had something scarier. His ultimate weapon, according to Raiya, was that he could kill anyone with a simple flick of his finger. The downside was that the spell consumes his entire lifespan, leaving him with only one day to save his life. – Details about how he managed to restore his vitality remained vague.

Needless to say, Hartwell didn't use the spell that often. He had other tricks up his sleeve. Those were the tricks we had to uncover before taking him on. Then I started thinking of all the possible things he could do to retaliate against us, of the fact that my grandfather trusted him. Hartwell wouldn't earn his trust if he wasn't worth it.

The more I walked, the less confident I became of my plan. The more I walked, the less I felt like I was making any progress. It felt like I was walking on the same spot for minutes, or hours, or days. It was like the ground beneath me moved with every step I took. I couldn't tell how much time had pa.s.sed either. All I knew was that the Fragment was still far, and I was beginning to feel tired.

"By now, you should have realized that walking's useless," Stalwart's mocking voice echoed all around me. "You'll soon realize that this s.p.a.ce is a prison only I can let you out of."

"If you're the only one that can get me out of here," I said. "Then why haven't you figured out a way to leave?"

Stalwart didn't answer. He left me alone with my thoughts for a long while. I lost track of time ever since I got into this s.p.a.ce. Hours must have pa.s.sed though, since I already started feeling hungry, thirsty, and most of all, sleepy. The Fragment was still as far from me as it was when I began walking.

This started to feel like a bad dream.

Then it hit me. Maybe this was all in my head. I might have pa.s.sed out when I was talking to Raiya last time. I must be in my head right now, talking to an imaginary old man who kept me trapped in the realm of dreams.

"You might be thinking now: I must be dreaming. This is all surreal. I can get out of this if I just woke up," Stalwart's voice came back to taunt me. "But how do you wake up? Can you just will yourself into doing it? Are you really dreaming?"

"Only one way to find out," I said.

I began running, concentrating on the Fragment that was leagues away from me. I wasn't making any progress at all. The ground beneath me seemed to move on the opposite direction, as though making me run in one place. No matter how fast I ran, the ground moved at the same speed as I was, but on the opposite direction.

"You're realizing now that you can't actually go anywhere," Stalwart went on with his taunts. "There's nothing you can do to break out of here. Might as well sit and listen to your grandpa's stories."

"I'd rather die," I spat at him.

"You will if you keep this up," Stalwart replied.

"But if you really insist on going back to your miserable life," he went on. "I suggest you grow some wings. There's no way for you to reach that Fragment without flying."

I remembered the time when I fought Eva's possession. I remembered how I convinced myself I could fly. If this s.p.a.ce was in my mind as well, all I needed to do was to think I could fly, and I would. So I started straining my brain. I focused on my ability to fly. Perhaps by thinking hard enough, I would actually grow some wings.

But nothing happened. I tried over and over again, to no avail.

"I guess you really need to make an effort here…" Stalwart's taunts never stopped. As I tried to concentrate on growing wings, or having no weight, or whatever I could think of to fly, he would snort, cackle, and throw some pretty hurtful jibes my way. "You should try to run then jump this time. Maybe you'll fly… Or maybe you'll fall, and I'll laugh."

"What is the problem with you?" I yelled. "You s.n.a.t.c.h me here without my consent. You throw some ridiculous conditions at me. Then after I agree to all of it, you imprison me here."

"It beats torturing you to death," Stalwart said. "Oh, wait, maybe that's what I'm doing now."

"Really?!" I said. "That's your way of punis.h.i.+ng me for something I wasn't aware I did?"

"You what?" Stalwart's voice rose. His voice was similar to the distant rumbling of thunder, right before the storm reached your location. "You weren't aware… haha…haha…You weren't f.u.c.kING AWARE!"

The blank, white s.p.a.ce instantly turned gray. Stormy clouds swirled around me at breakneck speed. Wind picked up out of nowhere. In the middle of the giant nimbus that kept picking up speed, s.h.i.+ny bolts flickered. If felt like the heavens had gone angry. It felt  like they were directing their wrath toward me.

"YOU SULLIED OUR NAME!" Stalwart screamed and my body vibrated with the sound. My head throbbed, and blood trickled down my nose. I was like an invisible force encircled me then started squeezing me to death. "YOU DISGRACED OUR FAMILY NAME. YOU GOT YOUR SISTERS KILLED. AND MOST OF ALL…"

He fell silent for a while, and the raging storm around me started dissipating. The nimbus quickly disappeared, and the sensation of being smothered to death vanished with it. After everything got back to its blank state, Stalwart spoke again.

"What you've done is unforgivable," he said. "That said, I cannot punish you for it. This version of me has already done it once. I should leave it to the one from your timeline."

"And where were you when your son needed you the most, huh?" I asked. "It's not like he had a quick death. That priest crucified him, tortured him for days before…" My voice broke.

"Before what, little one?" Stalwart asked with a seething voice.

As scared as I was of him at that moment, I couldn't stay quiet. I had to give this old man a piece of my mind too. His anger against me was unjustifiable.

"I vowed revenge on the Church that day, and on you," I said, clutching my fists.

"On me?" he asked.

"Yes, you," I hissed at him. "You're the most powerful wizard in the world. You're the mad wizard that wouldn't let a fly harm his family. You're the hero I never got to meet. All my childhood, father told me to forget I ever had a family.

"Father told me that you were unreliable; that you were a man who only cared about himself, and all my childhood I believed that. Then I heard what others said about you when I went to war. I heard about your exploits, about your genius in battle.

"I heard a story about you, the one when you rescued my uncle Bartholomew from a dragon. I heard how you helped build a peaceful ruling regime in Aslanor. No one could ever hope to defeat you. No one would dare mess with you, or your family, not even a freaking dragon.

"When Utar decided to take his anger out on my family, I thought you'd show up. I used to tell myself that grandfather wouldn't ignore this. I mean, he never came to visit us, sure, but he wouldn't let his son die. I watched my father, your son, get crucified. I watched my sisters die, and my mother get whipped before Utar took her head. Where were you grandpa?"

"None of that would have happened if you didn't f.u.c.k Dhobor's b.i.t.c.h!" Stalwart yelled at me. Gray clouds started forming again. I could tell I angered the old man once more. "You know what?" he said after a long silence. "I don't need your stupid sermons. Get out of here."