Chapter 4: “Echoes from the Past”
My senses slowly returned, and the first thing I felt was warmth. I was lying on something soft, a bed maybe, and the air smelled faintly of herbs and wood smoke. I blinked, my vision blurry, as I tried to make sense of my surroundings. Everything was quiet, too quiet, compared to the chaos that had engulfed us moments ago.
I sat up quickly, my heart racing. “Where are we?” I muttered, scanning the room. It was small, rustic, and unfamiliar, with walls made of rough stone and wooden beams across the ceiling. There was a crackling fire in the hearth, casting flickering shadows that danced along the walls.
The man—whose name I still didn’t know—was standing near the window, his back to me, looking out at something I couldn’t see. The tension in his posture was unmistakable, as though he was ready to spring into action at any moment.
“We’re safe, for now,” he said quietly, without turning around.
Safe. The word felt foreign after everything we had been through. My mind was still spinning with the memory of that searing light, of the rival’s menacing presence, and the way time had seemed to twist and tear around us. But here, in this quiet, simple room, it felt like we had slipped into another world entirely.
“Where are we, really?” I asked again, swinging my legs over the side of the bed. My muscles were sore, and I realized I was still wearing the same clothes I had been in when this all started—though they were now dusty and torn in places.
He finally turned to face me, his expression guarded. “We’re in the past.”
I blinked, not sure if I had heard him right. “The past?”
He nodded, crossing the room to stand in front of me. “This place… it’s a remnant. A fragment of time long forgotten by most. We’ve fallen through the threads again, but this time, we’ve gone backward.”
I frowned, trying to wrap my mind around it. “How far back?”
“Centuries,” he said, his gaze dark and serious. “We’ve slipped into a forgotten era. A time long before the cities, before the technology, before the future you know.”
My heart skipped a beat. “And the rival?”
“They can’t reach us here. Not yet.” His voice was low, almost a whisper. “But they will find a way. They always do.”
The weight of his words pressed down on me, and I felt a shiver run through my body despite the warmth of the fire. “So what do we do now?”
He looked at me, his eyes softening for the first time since we arrived. “For now, we rest. Gather our strength. The threads of time are delicate here. Any disturbance could send us spiraling again.”
***
For a long while, we didn’t speak. He sat beside me on the edge of the bed, and the silence between us was thick with unspoken thoughts. I watched the firelight play across his face, illuminating the strong lines of his jaw, the tiredness in his eyes. He had been fighting this battle for so long—fighting for something I still didn’t fully understand.
“Tell me your name,” I said softly, breaking the silence.
He hesitated, his gaze flickering toward the fire for a moment before settling on me. “My name… doesn’t matter. Not here. Not now.”
I reached out, my fingers brushing against his hand, the touch tentative but full of meaning. “It matters to me.”
For a moment, he didn’t respond. His hand remained still under mine, but I could feel the tension in him, the weight of everything he carried. Slowly, his fingers curled around mine, his grip gentle but firm.
“My name is Elias,” he finally said, his voice low, as though speaking it aloud after all this time felt strange. “But that’s not who I am in your time.”
I frowned, confusion swirling in my mind, but before I could ask him what he meant, he looked at me, and all my questions seemed to fade away. There was something in his gaze—something deep and unspoken—that made me feel like I had known him for far longer than I could remember.
“Elias,” I whispered, testing the sound of his name on my lips. It felt right, even though so much about him still remained a mystery.
His hand tightened around mine, and for the first time since this whole strange journey began, I felt a sense of calm settle over me. We sat there in the glow of the fire, the world outside forgotten for the moment, and it was like time itself had slowed down just for us.
Without thinking, I leaned closer to him, the warmth of the fire mixing with the warmth of his presence. His eyes met mine, and I could feel the steady rise and fall of his breath, the nearness of him sending a thrill through my veins. The tension that had been simmering between us since the moment we met seemed to reach a breaking point.
Before I could second-guess myself, I closed the distance between us. Our lips met, soft and slow at first, a tentative exploration of something that had been building for far too long. His hand slid up to cup the back of my head, pulling me closer, deepening the kiss in a way that made my heart race.
There was something unspoken in the way we moved together, like we had both been waiting for this moment, even if we didn’t fully understand why. His lips were warm and firm against mine, and for a moment, it felt like the entire universe had narrowed down to just the two of us.
When we finally pulled apart, our foreheads resting against each other, I could feel his breath against my skin, steady and even, like a calming rhythm that anchored me in place.
“I don’t know how any of this works,” I whispered, my voice barely audible in the quiet of the room. “But I know I trust you.”
His eyes softened, and he pressed a gentle kiss to my forehead. “That’s all that matters right now.”
***
The peaceful moment between us was shattered by a sudden, sharp crack from outside the room. Elias pulled away from me instantly, his body tensing as he rose to his feet. My heart leaped into my throat, and I quickly followed him to the window.
A low, ominous fog had rolled in, swirling just beyond the edge of the forest. The air felt heavy, thick with something I couldn’t quite name. My skin prickled with unease.
“Elias?” I whispered, dread creeping into my voice. “What’s happening?”
He didn’t answer, his jaw tight as he scanned the treeline. But I could see it in his eyes—the fear he was trying so hard to hide.
Before I could press him further, the fog parted, and a figure emerged from the shadows. My breath caught in my throat as the rival stepped into view, their dark cloak billowing in the wind, their presence unmistakable.
“No,” Elias breathed, his voice filled with disbelief. “They shouldn’t be able to find us here.”
But they had. And as the rival’s cold gaze locked onto us, I knew that we were no longer safe. Time was unraveling again, and this time, there was nowhere left to run.
“We have to go,” Elias said, grabbing my hand. “Now.”
But as we turned to flee, the air around us shimmered, and the ground beneath our feet trembled. The rival’s hand shot up, and with a flick of their wrist, the world began to tear apart once more.
And just like that, we were falling again—tumbling through the threads of time.