Time Throws Fire
by Ophelia Everfall
Part One | Redux Eterna
Part Two | Polymath Blues
Part Three | The Feather
Part Four | Wizard
Part Five | Coward’s End
Part Six | Whirls of Wind
Book Three | Fortuna Eterna
Content Warning: This is only a story.
Part Four | Wizard
Chapter Thirty
Something happened. Demi Annexa and Onslaught were at point by point of Fathom. Silence carried them forward—drifting in quiet—undone within expanded sensations of holistic release—befallen the grasp of denial.
The Entity resided in pips of drone field ladar sweeps along with that other; the specter, Ulysses. Leading up to this moment. Laying back—feeling into all which had been seen while absorbed and lost within the creative spaces of The Foundry’s consciousness—Echo became a shaman of sorts. The weakness within her were crumbling and the final would be her addiction to pining after lost visions of hope.
She was made of hope. There was no need to seek for such a thing outside herself.
Incinerate was fuel. Rory and Poe were with Lauren and Demi. Hardline had taken their rears. The mission was planned—seen. These separate occasions had made Echo to become part. She was not who she’d been and the way it flowed from her now was a concrete notion—the wisdom of Ecatosh.
These five would take the sisters holding their friends. Rory’s light fields were eclipsed from Monarch’s field of power. She’d been entirely beyond the scope of another being to contain. Something within would prove unlocked in times to come and she knew it her right to hold this force and travel such distance through time while maintaining it.
There was great debate. Her plan was the key. It had made the choices necessary to be seen. They were going to save Atreya.
Something shattered in vision—most incomplete of realities in creation—would show the witch Persephone’s righteous beckoning a destructive power untold. Monarch could fold space and would.
It would take them all where they needed to save three people who would know more about the coming battle through what they’d survived. Telling the tales would right The Foundry’s actions going forward—Echo too. She could feel them the whole time in her way, even out there through space as things happened for them with some shortest delay. It wasn’t anything she ever understood but needed help to feel into the truth so she might release those most horrid ideas she’d placed there.
The Sisters Two would prove those fears earned.
Another was out there. She was the demon in people’s heads. She wasn’t she at all. Echo knew them a god of the dark. Some leviathan of the deep. A beast of forms repeated as her own; Hitheroth.
What they were doing was not something she’d feel any right to be a part of but to destroy. She would end this part of the dark which twisted—corrupted. Echo knew it was the plan all along. It’s why she’d seen. She had to know the truth beyond the sight. The path of lessons and trust and failure and opening which led her to become exactly what she needed to be. Echo Béleaph could see the plan. Not the end. Not the middle or the present or the past. She saw the universe’s divine masterstrokes in each step she took from the depths of herself and realized that she was stuck—she could never stop.
That’s why she rigged Monarch to bug and took the leap in Hardline herself—alone.
