User blog:GamerNerd i/Family Feud

If you're new to my writings, start here. If you don't need the exposition, start here. If you just want to see all the stuff, then it's in my user page.

From deep within the bowels of my unusual and imaginative mind, I bring you... This. Original concept? No. Still a good read? Well, I'm the author; that's not for me to decide.

Also, fair warning, this thing is longer than a Wall-Knight v. Rustbolt stalling game. Okay, not literally, but it's pretty damn long.

A Gamer's Blood
Temporal anomalies are nothing new to me. Game developers seem to get a kick out of screwing with the time stream. And it's fun when you do it right. You get good flashback sequences, goofy butterfly effects, and hilarity when you have ancestors or past/future selves meeting. In fact, one of my favorite time warps involves a daughter traveling back to help her father.

As it turns out, fate's evil sense of humor isn't totally fiction.

Ironically, I first noticed the girl when my teacher was introducing us to the concept of heredity. She was looking in through the window, searching for someone. Why would I notice a girl looking in through the classroom's window? Because my science class is on the third floor of the building. So... Yeah. That's not normal. I made eye contact and she immediately vanished from sight.

Thankfully, Biology was the last period of the day, so I went to investigate after I grabbed my stuff from my locker. Actually, I take that back; the girl came to investigate me.

I slammed my locker shut and looked around. People were frozen in time, like the kind of thing movies do when a character is really fast. Somehow, I was unaffected, and this definitely wasn't my doing. Sure enough, directly to my right stood the girl I’d seen through the window earlier.

She seemed to have a thing for blue. Her raven-colored hair was tipped with aqua highlights. She wore blue denim jeans and a matching jacket. Her shirt replicated the pattern of Van Gogh's Starry Night. The only thing that wasn't blue was her skin (thank god) and her bright amber eyes. If I had to guess, she was a few years younger than me. I’m late 15, and she seemed... 13 maybe? She looked Asian, but I wasn’t sure. Maybe she was just glaring really hard.

For a moment I got deja vu. Her stance and expression were disturbingly familiar. The shine in her eyes and the denim jacket... She reminded me of Nadia. I stared at her for a moment as she glared at me. Neither of us made a move. I decided to start the encounter.

“Alright kid, look,” I say flatly, “I know you’ve stopped time and stuff, but if you’re just going to sit and stare, I need to go now if I want to get to my friend’s school on time.”

Her expression hardens. “So you have taken his form. You can’t fool me.”

Needless to say, I’m baffled. “Okay... Is this going to be one of those cliched standoff’s where we need to fight and you're the only one who knows why you're fighting me? Like... Honestly, if we can settle this quickly and peacefully, that'd be great. I really need to go."

"Don't act like you don't know why I'm here," she responds, a large paintbrush materializing in her hand, "I know that you know why I'm here."

I sigh in exasperation and pull on my backpack straps to tighten them. "That's what I was afraid of," I mutter, checking my watch. My meeting begins in 15 minutes. With a ten minute walk to Nadia’s campus... Yeah, I was going to be late. Probably. "Let's get this done quickly, Azura."

The name slipped out. I mean, there aren't many characters who are named after the color they tend to wear most. As it turns out, saying it at all would be my first mistake. The one time I guess a name correctly the first time...

The girl’s eyes flash in anger. "You do remember me! I knew it!" She flicks her massive paintbrush upward, sending a literal tsunami at me. I freeze for a moment, watching the water. It’s not normal water; it’s painted. The style is Japanese... Did she just summon a wave from that one-

I snap back to my senses and realize that I need to do two things: move out of the way, and get this girl away from everyone else, both for obvious reasons.

I throw a Phase Prism through the wave and take a ball out of my pocket. The girl is struck by the prism and is forced to swap positions with me. She yelps as her own wave slams into her. I throw out the ball.

“Echo, Sky Drop,” I command the Noivern that emerges, “Take her to the field!”

The dragon swoops low over the recovering girl, grabbing her in his talons. I run close behind, scooping up her dropped paintbrush, and grab onto Echo’s back as he doubles back toward the field. As we soar over my school, I glance back. At around a hundred feet, time resumes as normal. I check my watch. Thirteen minutes left. Definitely going to be late...

The girl struggles in Echo’s claws as we fly to the field where I normally take fights that come to my school. “Relax, kid. And don’t look down,” I say casually as I inspect her giant paintbrush. (A scream shortly after I say it tells me that she looked down.) The brush seems really high quality. The wood is grainy, but still relatively smooth. The tip is eternally soaked with paint, as if it were a ballpoint pen. No, not paint; Ink. I’d seen this ink before. Its properties... This was the ink that N-

The brush suddenly shimmers and changes form drastically. In a moment, I’m not longer holding a brush. I’m holding a pitch black sword with a golden key in the hilt. This isn’t just any sword, either; this is the sword of Hades. More importantly, it’s my backup sword and a gift from Nadia.

I stare blankly at it for a few minutes in disbelief before realizing that we were over the field. I also realized that the girl was screaming somewhere below. Right... Sky Drop. That was my second mistake.

“God- Echo, down! We need to hit the ground before she does.”

My mount obeyed, dipping into a nose dive. We zoomed by the girl, who had pulled an elaborately decorated kite out of nowhere and was using to to slow her fall. I glanced back at her and saw pure terror in her eyes. I’d know. Nadia looked the same way whenever she relapsed.

At this point, an idea started forming in my head. A certain story came to mind. If I was right... Man, N and I would need to have a serious talk.

I landed first, as expected. The girl was still flying high above, but I wasn't going to take my chances. A chandelier emerges from my next ball.

"Will, Fire Spin," I command, "Surround the girl in the air. Make the radius fairly large."

Chandelure complies. A circle of flame forms around the girl as she lands. She attempts to fight through the barrier, but it simply blazes brighter when she approaches.

“Careful,” I tell her, “Chandelure’s flames will burn your soul. You don’t want that to happen, do you?”

Her fists clench. “What did you do to my paintbrush?”

I forgot I was still holding her weapon. In response, I draw my own sword... Because I just casually carry the sword around school in my backpack. (Its disguised as an umbrella, but still.) Holding the two side by side, they appear identical. “I don’t know who you are, when or where you come from, or what you want from me, but-“

“You know who I am! You know what I’m here for!” She yells. The fire intensifies for a moment and she backs off.

“But,” I continue, “This is my sword. You managed to change its form, but it’s still the backup sword I have when all else fails. So let me ask you, where did you get this?”

The girl doesn’t respond. Her fists remain clenched, but her eyes are closed. She’s trying to do something. I become aware of earth rumbling behind me.

“Echo, Screech. Keep frequency high and decibels low.”

I cover my ears as Noivern unleashes a horrible noise worse than nails on chalkboard. The girl yelps and falls over. Will makes the flaming circle smaller.

Behind me, something crumbles. I turn around to see what it was. The girl was... Making a stone lion behind me?

“Look, can you just answer my questions please?” I say as she recovers. “I don’t want to do this, but if you’re going to continue being aggressive, I’ll need to keep this up. I need answers. If we really do need to fight later, fine. But I at least want to know who I’m fighting and why.”

She seems to take this in. “Call them off,” she says finally. I shrug. “Back in your balls, you two. Thank you.” Noivern and Chandelure return to me and the fire dies out.

“You already guessed my name — I’m Azura,” she says hesitantly, keeping an eye on my sword. “I came here because I was told that one of my parents’ killers was masquerading as my father during this time period.”

I didn’t like that last sentence. For... Reasons I’d rather not talk about right now. “Well, I dunno who this killer is, but it’s not me. I haven’t killed anyone. I don’t intend to start any time soon.” I gesture to myself. "Also, if it isn't obvious, I'm not quite in a 'dad' position yet."

Azura stays silent. I can tell that she’s still not completely convinced.

“How can I convince you to trust me?” I ask. I already know the answer, but I hoped that she’d change her mind. Something that wouldn’t take too long.

“Duel me,” she says. “You say that Hades’ sword belongs to you. Fight me blade to blade. No holding back, no other powers but your swordsmanship. If you beat me, I’ll relax. If you don’t, you die.”

“Fine,” I sigh, giving Azura her parallel sword and checking my watch. Six minutes. “But if you pull a fast one on me, everything is fair game.”

The Duel
We stood in that field, looking at each other for about thirty seconds, nothing in hand but our identical swords. I tried to predict her style. Typical girl thing would be fast. The sword was lighter in its paintbrush form, but maybe she used a different style for each form.

Then Azura made the first move, a flash of black iron. Quick and agile, just like I’d figured. Easy block.

She kept coming. I had to hand it to her; I hadn’t seen this kind of relentlessness in a while. I stood my ground, parrying, deflecting, and otherwise fending off each strike as it came. As a gamer, Recreator, and a kid with mischievous friends, it’s necessary to have a quick reaction time. Honestly, I could barely keep up with each swing.

I should probably explain my strategy. In essence, I take the Bear Gryllis meme mentality: “Improvise. Adapt. Overcome.” I’ll mostly defend early, analyzing my opponent’s style and taking in the environment if I haven’t done so already. This also tends to wear down most people, especially aggressive fighters like this girl. Once I’ve seen and understood enough, I’ll go on the attack, making something up on the fly to directly counter their style. A combination of fatigue, environmental hazards, and counterattack tactics usually lets me disarm the opponent quickly afterwards.

Azura’s style wasn’t difficult to decipher. It turns out that her strategy was an attempt to directly counter mine. She wasn’t a hit-and-run like most other quick fighters—she was more of a swarmer, trying to wear me down as I went to block each strike. The solution? Bruiser style—strong and aggressive.

My hands repositioned mid-block from one hand to two as I slammed the sword into her incoming light slice. Newton’s second law of motion kicked in; she wasn’t strong enough to counteract the momentum of my swing. Her sword hand flailed back.

Surprisingly, the flail was intentional. The wide swing turned into a spinning slash, then an overhead cut. I ducked under the slash and raised the sword horizontally above my head, blocking the cut. That move seemed to counter both my reactions perfectly. I began to feel convinced that this girl was right about me being her father... Somehow. You only develop a specific counter like that after you’ve fought someone for a long time. If I were to have a kid who turned out to have powers, I know I would train them. My style is rather unique, too. I don't know anyone else who uses a blade the way I do.

I push my sword up, causing Azura to flail again—vertically this time. She narrowly dodges the following downward slice, but I land a kick to her chest that makes her stagger backward. My turn to rush at her; my strokes are slow but strong. She manages to block each one, but barely. Each hit sends her blade out of wack; She has just enough time to regain control before we clash again. Honestly, it was kind of irritating.

“Seems like you’ve fought me more than once before,” I tell her, still swinging. Starting a conversation mid-duel tends to drop an opponent’s guard faster than you can say gravity. “You’d have had to—I don’t really have a set style.”

Azura looks up at me for a moment, fierce determination burning behind her amber eyes. Looking at her eyes, I realized what made them so familiar (besides the fact that the Fire Emblem character of the same name has unnervingly similar eyes). My eyes are a dark brown; Nadia’s are bright emerald green. If my brown eyes were brightened to the level of Nadia’s... I’d look eternally high, but I’d be willing to bet that they’d be the same amber color. That’s nuts.

I guess I blanked for longer than I should have, since Azura managed to hit me without my realizing it. I felt a cut on my shoulder as she began to barrage me with strikes again.

“Wow, first blood this late?” I say, hiding the pain. We revert back to a flurry of attacks and blocks. “Surely you could have done better.”

“Are you trying to distract yourself or me?” Azura asks through gritted teeth.

“Distract you?” I say, feigning shock, “I would never do something so underhanded. I’m a man of honor. I’m just trying to be friendly.” I continue to block despite the pain in my shoulder.

“Friendly to someone who will kill you at the first opportunity?” She asks. Her strikes are weakening.

“Why not? Maybe I’ll get them to ease off and we can walk away on good terms,” I shrug, “Besides, I get the feeling this will be done soon. Just one reckless move...”

Azura lunges, thrusting for my chest. I sidestep the motion easily. The sword shifts to my left hand as my right her sword by its hilt as she stumbles past me. With whatever strength I had in my left hand, I slammed the flat of the blade against her lower back. The strike gives her even more momentum, causing her to let go of her sword and fall forward onto her stomach.

“That’ll do,” I say flatly, now holding an identical sword in either hand. “Well fought, kid. You had me on edge there for a little bit.”

Azura flips over and looks at me. Her eyes still burn with determination, but a mix of emotions churns behind that. Dread... Sorrow... Hope?

“If you’re going to kill me, do it quickly."

I roll my eyes. I grasp Azura's sword with two hands and she looks away.

I plunge the sword into the ground beside her. She opens one eye tentatively.

"Get up, and stop being so dramatic," I tell her. "You're the one who wanted to kill me. I never said anything about killing you." I check my watch. I'm late by two minutes. Factoring in the travel, I'll be five minutes late. "I need to get to my club now. You want to come? I get the feeling that we have some... Family matters to sort out, but if you want to help the club make some decorations, I can introduce you as a friend or something."

Azura seems taken aback by my offer, but stands up slowly. “You... You really are my father, then?”

“Maybe,” I respond, releasing Echo and climbing onto his back. “My life has become so much of a cliche, I guess it’s no wonder that if I had kids, they would need to adhere to Fire Emblem genetics.”

Azura blinks as I help her up. “What?

I let out a nervous laugh. “I may not be the man who fathered you, but I’m still the geek who named you. Maybe I’ll tell you about it sometime. I think I know exactly where you get your name.”

Artistic Ambitions
I order Echo to take us straight to Nadia’s school. There’s a little silence at the start of the ride.

Having someone hug me from behind is a familiar feeling to me, being the eldest child at a lot of family events. Heck, I even know it from when Nadia and I go riding.

This felt like a different embrace. Azura held on tighter than even Nadia did—and Nadia is afraid of these rides. I’m sure fear was part of it, but it wasn’t the only thing.

“You okay back there?” I ask.

“Yes,” she responds. “Just... Shaken. To see my father—you—again is like a dream come true. But it’s... Strange, seeing you like this.”

“Well, what did you expect, coming back to this time period? I’m in high school. I’m not going to have kids anytime soon.”

She’s silent again, but I feel wet spots forming on the back of my shirt.

“Is... Is mother here? I mean... What did you always call her? M?”

“One letter off. N. For Nadia.” Despite the subject matter, I felt unusually comfortable talking about it. I don’t know how N will react, though. I’m still not quite sure how I feel about it, personally.

“I should probably mention that she might be fighting her son right now,” Azura says. “My brother was sent after her under the same belief—that she's not who she really is.” “Nadia is more than capable of handling herself. She’ll be fine.” Unless she relapses, but that’s a really small chance. “I’ll touch base with her about this... Thing later. Tell me... Why did you decide to come with me? If you’re done, surely you have other places to be.”

“I do, but I was planning on staying for a little bit anyway. To... Do some research.”

I remembered her paintbrush, the ink wave, and the statue. For the first time, I noticed paint splotches on her jeans and denim jacket. Something clicked.

“Your inherited our power, but in art,” I realize. “You wanted to look into the art of this time?”

“Yes!” She says excitedly. It’s the first time she’s ever demonstrated real joy. “Many great artists loved during this time, all connected through the Internet. In my time, it’s very hard to find their work because many of the sites they used have been taken down. I want to study their work in their prime. Their techniques fascinate me.” I glance back at the excited girl. She smiles in embarrassment, blushing. “Even if the subject matter is sometimes... Questionable.”

“Questionable? Oh, you mean those guys.” (You know what I’m referring to. Even if you deny it, you know we’ve all seen some of that.) “As your future father, I should probably reprimand you, but it would be hypocritical of me at this point in my life.” Azura stares at me, then laughs. It sounds like she inherited it from Nadia.

Father and Daughter
Echo touches down on an empty football field. I return him to the ball quickly, and Azura and I walk to N’s club.

“Just so you know, we’re going to JCL,” I start, “It stands for-“

“Junior Classical League,” Azura says. “I know. You talked about it a lot.”

“Did I really?” Apparently I’d still be talking about this thing as an adult. It feels... Strange to know that. “Then you should also know that it’s actually N’s club. She’ll be here for sure.”

Azura’s eyes widen. “I... You never told me about that!”

“I didn’t? Well, now you know,” I shrug. “One thing; don’t act like N and I your parents in public. We’ll get weird looks and I, for one, won’t hear the end of it from my friends. My first name is Aidan, if you didn’t know.”

“Yes, F- Er, okay, Aidan.” She seems to struggle with the name. I guess it feels unnatural to call parents by their first names, so I can’t blame her.

Azura clutches my arm like a child as we walk into the building.�

An Author's Lineage
Like many things, time travel scares me. Sure, it sounds cool and makes for interesting stories, but there are just far too many complexities to it. Do we honestly think that time travel works exactly the way that we think it does? Heck, we can’t even agree on a single theory of its logistics. I’ve done time travel before. It’s a mess, and that’s before you screw up.

So, naturally, a time traveler disturbed my day.

The boy was trailing me the whole time I was at school. Being tracked by boys is nothing new; I’m rather attractive, if I may say so myself. This case was unusual because I was at school—an all-girls school. No one but me seemed to notice this kid, who, by the way, wasn’t even trying to hide himself. Whenever I saw him, the next time I blinked, he was gone.

I brushed it off, although I really shouldn’t have.

After school, I start for my club—the Junior Classical League, or JCL. It’s a thing for people like me who think speaking ancient languages like Latin are cool. Or if you’re a myth geek too, I guess. Overall, if you’re really interested in Greco-Roman stuff, this is the club for you.

The meetings start fifteen minutes after school, so I really shouldn’t have any excuse to be late. But being who I am, I manage to be late occasionally. Breaker problems and stuff.

I walk across the campus of my school to the building where the club meets. The whole time, i feel a set of eyes watching me—and not just those people who sit and stare at everyone. It’s nothing, I tell myself, knowing that it was definitely not nothing.

Space shifted as I turned onto what should be the shortest hallway in the school. I kept walking at my usual brisk pace for a full minute before realizing that I wasn’t making any progress. That’s what happens when I get engrossed in my phone.

Looking up, the hallway stretched endlessly in front of me, impossibly long. I could see its event horizon, for crying out loud. Strange? Yes. Unusual? Somehow, no. I’m sure I’ve seen this kind of effect before in a movie. Behind me, the same hallway extended, equally infinite. (Which doesn’t make sense, but you get the point.)

“What in the name of...” Someone was messing with me, and I didn’t know who. I could guess, of course. There aren’t a lot of illusionists this powerful. None of them would have any reason to bother me right now—we have a bit of an unspoken agreement. My mind goes back to the boy who had been trailing me all day. This loop isn’t my doing. The boy would be the only logical culprit.

“Alright kid, you’ve been fallowing me all day,” I say loudly. “And now you’ve done this. Who are you and what do you want?” No response. “I’m not moving unless you answer me.” My watch reads eight minutes to the meeting, but if I have to wait, I’ll wait.

Another minute ticks by. “You’re serious?” Someone says in disbelief.

“You’re interrupting my day. Of course I’m serious.” I respond. Guess I won’t have to wait.

“Well, I guess I’ll have to make you move, then.”

Several things happen at once. First, the floor shifts under my feet, tilting into a downward incline. Second, something massive drops behind me, shaking the floor and making me stumble. I turn around, facing up the incline. A huge, round boulder was rolling toward me.

Instinct told me to run, Indiana Jones style. But that was exactly what this person wanted. Besides, the boulder would catch up to me eventually anyway, thanks to the constant acceleration from the incline. There was no room for me to duck away, since the rock basically filled the hallway. The setup was perfect; Either way, I was dead.

At least, it would have been perfect, if I wasn’t... Oh, I don’t know, a skilled spell caster.

The Elder Wand materializes in my hand, pointing at the incoming stone. “Ha-di!” I shout. The wand trembles as it harnesses unfamiliar magic, but fires off a bolt in the form of a hieroglyph. The bolt strikes the rolling stone. It explodes into harmless pebbles.

“Really!?” The same voice yells in exasperation.

“Seems like you underestimated me severely.” I begin fishing in my pocket for something. “Sorry, but I don’t have time for this. I have somewhere to be.” I find the thing—a red gem— and hold it in my hand. “If you don’t mind, I’m going back to my reality.” I hold the Reality Stone with two hands in front of me. The gem glows with power as I will it to do my bidding.

The voice panics. “What’s that? Is that- No! You can’t do that!”

With a blinding flash, the illusion melts away. I’m standing in the short hallway again, this time its normal, ridiculously short length.

The same boy I’d seen during the day stood in front of me, hands up to shield his eyes from the flash. Before he recovers, I get my staff and pin him against the wall. The boy struggles, but I’m able to hold him firmly enough to size him up.

He seems a few years younger than me. His hair is blond, like mine, and his skin tone is fair, also like mine. I look into his moss green eyes and see a mix of emotions. He wears a necklace that seems to be a partial illusion; the shape of the chains is different from what I was feeling through my denim jacket. He wears a T-Shirt under a green and grey Slytherin jacket. That jacket... Aidan has that jacket. I gave it to him a while ago, but he barely wears it.

The boy struggles, trying to feign confidence. It isn’t really working.

“Oh no, you got me!” He says, sarcastically. “Whatever shall I do?”

“You will tell me who you are, and what you want from me,” I tell him sternly. I drop a glowing rope. It curls around his ankle slowly.

“My name is Inigo-“ The rope around his ankle glows brighter. The boy tenses up in pain. “Hng! Really? I can’t even make an appropriate reference?”

“Wise guy, huh? The Princess Bride. Good book.” I apply a little more pressure to the staff. The boy squirms a little bit more. “Alright Inigo Montoya, I don’t know why you’re going after me. I didn’t kill your father, or whoever it is. And I’m not dying today. Give me a straight answer: Who are you, and what do you want?”

The kid tenses up again. He’s trying to resist the lasso? “My name is Frey. I’m here to avenge my parents. One of their killers is supposed to be here—disguised as my mom.”

I ease off a little bit on the pressure subconsciously. Frey? Mom? My mind examines the boy one more time. Blond hair and green eyes—two traits of mine. Rick Riordan’s Frey is also blond. Riordan Frey didn’t have green eyes, but the shade of green in this boy's eyes reminded me of foliage—and summer.

My eyes move to his necklace. It was disguised as the pendant in Moana. (Great movie by the way. The Rock as Maui? It works too well.) A window displayed the blue gem inside. That was wrong; the heart of Te Fiti was green.

I snatch the necklace with my left hand, keeping the boy pinned with the staff in my right. Frey protests as I examine the pendant.

“No! Don’t touch that!” He yells, “My mom gave it to me! It’s not yours!”

“Is it really?” I ask him. The shape of the pendant doesn’t match the shape I feel in my hand. “Because if I’m not mistaken... Aparecium.”

The pendant shimmers. It transforms into the necklace I wear on my neck—a gold triangle set with a long sapphire gem. It’s from a world outside my influence, a gift from Aidan. It gives me access to the wisdom and power of a semi-divine songstress.

“Just as I thought. This is my pendant,” I say. “And yet...” I reach into my shirt and pull out my version of the charm. The boy stops struggling to stare at the identical necklaces. “You said that you were hunting someone who looked like me?”

Frey’s voice and expression lack the confidence that it did before. “Uh... Y-Yes...”

“Well, I’m no disguise. I’m the real deal.” I release the boy from my pin and return his pendant to him. “Anything I can do to convince you?”

Frey to his feet as he puts his necklace back on. “One thing. Lead me in a duet.”

I raise my eyebrow. “I... Okay? That’s it? No catch?”

“One catch.” Of course... “If I’m not convinced, I get to kill you.”

Great, I need to impress someone I don’t know and who won’t tell me what he’s looking for. If I fail, I die. Talk about stage fright.

I take a deep breath. “Fine... But not here. We’re doing this on my turf.”

I extend my hand. Frey takes it reluctantly, and the Mist curls around us. My grip on three stones in my pocket tighten as their power flows into the space around is.

The Duet
Large illusions aren’t easy, even with the help of three Infinity Stones. But I think I did pretty well with this one. I mean, I need to impress this kid or I die. Go big or go home, right?

The two of us now stand on a massive, open-air stage. The architecture shimmers, flickering between eroded, age-old stone and polished marble. Behind us, red fabric forms a curtain several stories high. Heck, I manage to make a whole audience too. I know that none of them are real, but they seem to be so alive. I didn’t realize I was capable of an illusion of this magnitude.

I look down in surprise to see that I’d even managed to change our clothes. My denims had become a blue and white dress, almost like Cinderella. I knew that it wasn’t Cinderella, but a more formal Azura: the spirit in my pendant. Frey had been given a navy blue suit. Aidan told me something about Azura having a son... Perhaps he dressed like that? A faint voice laughing in the back of my mind confirmed my suspicion. I made a mental note to thank Azura later for her influence.

Frey looks around him in awe. “Is... Where are we?”

“This is the Roman theater of Orange, in France.”

“Are we... Actually here?”

“No. Only our spirits are here,” I say, raising my left hand. Three rings sparkle on my fingers, as I expected. The Stones of Space, Soul, and Reality are set into them. Space to transport our bodies somewhere safe. Soul to bring our spirits to the location. Reality to restore the theater to its former glory. “But that’s all that matters, right?” The boy stares at me. “What did you want to sing?”

“I...” He looks at himself and his surroundings one last time. “I... I don’t know.”

“I’ll choose, then. I hope you know your theater,” I give him one last smile as my staff—which doubles as a mic when I want it to—materializes in my hand. “Let’s give these tourists something to remember.”

The song I choose is “Something to Believe In,” a duet from the musical Newsies. The lyrics also feel appropriate for the situation. Just in case anyone cares.

"Till the moment I found you, I thought I knew what love was... Now I’m learning what is true: That love will do what it does..."

Like the other times I sing “with power,” so to speak, the voice isn’t quite mine. It’s... Strange, to say the least.

I essentially have three different voices coming out of my mouth. First and foremost is my own voice. Nothing outstanding, but not terrible either. My friends enjoy hearing me sing, so I’m definitely on the better side. Second is the voice of the original singer: in this case, it’s the character Katherine. Third is Azura. Her singing is on a whole other level of amazing, simply put. I’m not sure that anything I can say will do it justice.

The interesting thing is that the three voices seldom sing in the exact same pitch. There’s the original, the. my interpretation, and then Azura’s. It manages to work out, usually. I’m essentially a harmonic trio when I want to be. Like I said, this kind of singing is strange. Then there’s also the fact that my staff will emit all the accompanying music, which makes it even weirder sometimes because sometimes I look like I’m singing the instruments too.

"The world finds ways to sting you, And then one day decides to bring you Something to believe in, For even a night. One night may be forever, But that’s all right; That’s all right. And if you’re gone tomorrow, What was ours still will be; I have something to believe in, Now that I know you believed in me..."''

I begin pacing as I sing. The lyrics sink into my mind. When I really consider it, this set of lines really describes today. This encounter—this boy—started as a nuisance. Now, here I am singing for him, not knowing whether I’ll even live past it. Even if he does kill me, I don’t think anyone would forget my singing.

Frey finds his footing just in time.

“We were never meant to meet... And then we meet, who knows why. One more stranger on the street. Just someone sweet passing by; An angel come to save me Who didn’t even know she gave me Something to believe in For even a day...”

These lines are rather appropriate too. Assuming that Frey really is my son, as he implies, he really should not be encountering me at this time. Neither should I know that I’m going to have a son. Fate becomes a weirdo once you’re launched into my world, I guess.

“One day may be forever, But that’s okay; That’s okay. And if I'm gone tomorrow, What was ours still will be. I have something to believe in, Now that I know you believed in me.”

The chorus comes around again. It applies to Frey too, if he decides to let me live. If I really am dead where he comes from, then to come back and sing alongside me... Well, I hope that this helps him move on.

“Do you know what I believe in? Look into my eyes and see...”

We look at each other as we sing the joint lyric. Frey’s eyes are filed with wonder.

I come to realize that his eyes aren’t just mine—they’re also Aidan’s. My eyes are a bright green. Aidan’s eyes are a deep brown. Frey inherited my color and Aidan’s darkness. I don’t think that’s the way that eye color heredity works, but... Eh.

“If... If only...” he trails off.

I get the feeling that the song is convincing him, as intended. “If... What?”

“If only I could still do this when I get home.”

“That’s the point of this song. Haven’t you been listening to what you’ve been singing? I may be... Dead... When you go back, but you’ll always have this memory.”

“I... I guess. But it’s not the same.”

“It never will be, but it’s better than nothing. Focus, now. One last lyric!”

Conveniently, that was a conversation break anyway, so our rhythm wasn’t broken.

Frey nods in understanding and belts, “And if I’m gone tomorrow...”

“What was ours still will be,” I respond.

Together, we sing the last line. “I have something to believe in, now that I know you believed in me...”

My focus breaks while holding the final note. The Mist of the illusion melts around us. The ornate architecture degrades back to its ruined state. Our outfits revert back into street clothes. The audience is replaced by a few tourists gawking at their phones.

Lastly, our souls return to our bodies halfway across the world.

Mother and Son
I walk the hallways to the meeting room in silence, Frey’s footsteps clacking behind me. The boy suddenly embraces me from behind.

I turn to return the embrace. He is in tears as his head presses against my chest.

“Mom... It really is you,” he whispers.

“I guess I am,” I tell him. “You did great, kid.”

“I’m... I’m sorry for what I did.”

“Don’t be. You were misled. What’s important is that you understand now.”

“I... Can I call you mom?”

I roll my eyes a little bit. “Fine. Just not in public, otherwise I’ll get looks.”

“Okay... Thank you.” Fret blinks and pulls away. “I’m sorry, I really shouldn’t be doing this to you. I know that it must be... Strange, for you to answer these questions. Especially since... Wait, is dad here?”

I realize that I’d been going through this whole thing without knowing who the father was. Although at this point, if it wasn’t Aidan I’d be surprised. “You mean... Aidan?”

The boy nods in confirmation. “He, uh... My sister was sent after him, so...”

“He’ll be fine.” Truth he told, I was more worried for the sister. Aidan tends to lose control if he’s pushed too far. “Actually, you’ll meet him today, probably. He’ll be at this thing... If late. I hope you have an interest in classical Greco-Roman civilization.”

Frey frowns as we start walking again. “Not really. All the movies about it are bad.”

Movies... I think back to the endless hallway and the rolling boulders, and the Princess Bride quote. I’d thought that he was referring to the book, but it’s a notable movie too. Even his comfort on the stage seemed to fit in.

“Your power... Film?” I ask.

Frey nods. “And TV, too. It’s one of the other reasons why I wanted to come back to this time. There are a lot of good movies and shows from this period that are hard to find where I come from.”

We stop in front of the classroom door briefly. “Just remember, don’t call me mom, or Aidan dad when he gets here. In this time, we’re not nearly old enough to have kids.” He nods reluctantly.“Okay mo- uh, Nadia.”

Frey peeks from behind me like a shy toddler as I reach for the door handle.�

Family Reunion
Aidan and Azura turn the corner of the hall as Nadia reaches for the door handle, Frey standing behind her.

Azura gets excited and rushes to her brother. “Frey!” she yells in joy. The boy’s eyes light up as the two siblings give each other a tight hug.

Nadia moves away from the door, approaching Aidan. The two stand next to each other, watching their future children’s embrace quietly.

“He looks like you,” Aidan says.

“And she resembles you,” Nadia responds, smirking. “Except she got part of my looks.”

“I... Don’t actually have a comeback.”

The kids turn their attention to their parents.

“Mother!” Azura runs to Nadia, grabbing her in a sudden embrace. “I can’t believe this! You’re here too!”

Frey slowly walks up to Aidan, wonder sparkling in his eyes.

“Dad... Is that really you?” He asks.

“I guess I am, if Azura is your sister.”

The boy looks skeptical. “Did Muradin Bronzebeard make an appearance in the Warcraft movie?” He asks.

The question catches Aidan off guard. “Uh... No...?” I say slowly. “I think it was Magni who showed up at the the end.”

“What version of Pac-Man appeared in Wreck-It-Ralph?”

“The original Pac-Man in 3D form, which I guess is technically from Pac... Mania...?”

“Who are the three trophies in Pixels?”

“Q-Bert, the Duck Hunt dog, and... There wasn’t actually a final trophy, but Q-Bert transformed into... Lady Lisa?”

The boy smirks. “What parodies did Nintendo buy the licenses to in order to ensure that they were never shown again?”

“Super Ho- Wait, what? No!” Aidan stutters, then laughs. “I’m not answering that, but I guess you got my sense of humor. You can’t pull a fast one on me with my own method, but nice try.” He smiles slyly. “What’s your name, kid?”

“Frey.” The boy comes closer, and Aidan accepts his tender hug.

“Frey, I told you not to quiz Father.” Azura complains.

“At least I didn’t want to fight Mom like you did,” Frey retorts.

“She can do it! She’ll do it!” Azura looks into Nadia’s eyes. “Right?”

Nadia laughs. “Maybe. But not now. I’m already almost ten minutes late, so we need to get in that room soon.”

“Speaking of that, actually...” Aidan says, “Uh, N, what’s our cover here?”

“These two are our... Cousins,” Nadia says slowly. “And we were gone because we both had to pick them up. Or... Something. Yeah, let’s go with that. You two hear that? We’re not your parents, we’re you’re older cousins.”

The children respond sarcastically with “Okay mom” and “Yes mother.”

Aidan laughs. “Alright, alright. Let’s go, we’re even later than I usually am now.”

The group—two high school parents and two elementary school offspring—walk into the JCL meeting room together. Not just as friends, but as a family. Even if it’s an awkward family.

Grown-Up Talk
“So... Kids eventually, huh?” Aidan whispers as he rifles through some paperwork, as his role in the club dictated. “That’s something.... Oh, give me the Loyola file.”

“Here,” Nadia responds unenthusiastically, handing him the folder. “And yippee, I guess I’ll be stuck with you for the rest of my life.”

Aidan smirks, then frowns. “Speaking of life... You know what they said, right?”

Nadia stops her task briefly to look Aidan in the eye. The two stare at each other for a moment, in silent debate. Nadia shakes her head.

“Not now. This can’t be just the two of us. We need Lex and Pix in on this too,” she says, before turning her attention to another girl’s sketches. “Steph, don’t ponify the gods, please... This is for the horse riding area? Well... I guess. But only a few.”

Aidan looks up from his station, observing the activities of his future children. Azura was helping with the decorations, just as he’d suggested. Despite being notably younger, she drew with a skill and speed that had the high schoolers dumbstruck. Frey was sitting at a computer helping a few girls create a video. He too appeared to surprise the group, demonstrating an impressive understanding of filmmaking techniques and philosophy.

Aidan had seen the way that developers handled powerful families. The longer a franchise lasted, the longer a family line lasted, if any. As it had during the entire encounter, Fire Emblem came to mind. Children often resembled their parents in an uncanny way. They inherited their unique skills, and sometimes their weapons.

That was fine in Aidan’s mind. He could already see the similarities: Azura’s swordsmanship, Frey’s quiet questioning. They were definitely his children.

What worried him was what they had seen. Fire Emblem children seldom had a completely happy upbringing. Lucina had seen her father and all his friends slain, watched a country dissolve into chaos, and commanded mere children in suicide missions. Azura and Frey had already watched their parents—Nadia and him—die. What other things had they seen, or would be forced to see?

“Dude, snap out of it,” Nadia says firmly, breaking his train of thought. “Look, we’ll talk about this later, okay? Just focus for now, caudex. Also, give me the SAS file for a moment.”

“Fine, fine...” He gives the folder to Nadia and puts his thoughts aside.

Nadia wouldn’t admit it, but she couldn’t stop thinking about the situation either. Rather than a question of family, it was a question of fate.

All her life she had read about predetermined destinies; all her life, she had denied it. As a rebellious free spirit, Nadia wanted to believe that she could weave her own string, make her own destiny.

But now, with a major part of her future revealed to her, Nadia’s beliefs wavered. She would have children with Aidan; that much was certain. The implication of their marriage, gleaned from the fact that they had been together at their death, was rather restricting. No matter what, they would end up together, as predetermined by this encounter.

The thought scared her. Was fate really unchangeable, and out of her control? Like all the other times, Nadia denied the idea, resolved to prove fate wrong. But still, the seed was planted.

Nadia becomes self-conscious of Aidan’s eyes watching her. “What?” she snaps. He gives her a skeptical look, but says nothing and resumes working.

Despite their differing perspectives, the two intuitively shared the same final conclusion.

Together.