Twisted Tides

The river ran backwards on the day the queen vanished. No warning, no hint of what was to come; just a sudden

SNAP!

And the whole world changed.

*****

Alyssa felt, rather than heard the shift; a sudden intense pressure in her ears, against her eyes, then… nothing. Or, almost nothing. Everything seemed the same at first glance, but a closer look showed things were somehow off, like a copy of a copy of a copy, where lines have blended and blurred, become less well defined. Shaking her head, Alyssa tried to clear the alien sensation in her eyes and ears, but nothing seemed to work. Everything still felt subtly wrong.

A sound of shifting stones reminded her that she wasn’t alone on the riverbank. Whilst Alyssa diligently worked on improving her innate skills, Rodderick had been fooling around as usual, teasing her about the meticulous focus she applied to all aspects of her academic life. Dabbling, he called it. Not quite meddling, because meddling, as he repeatedly told her, implies you have some idea what you are doing, and he was convinced that Alyssa most definitely did not know what she was doing. Not that he had no faith in her skill, more because he believed their powers would manifest, fully formed, at the right moment. No point wasting time studying and practising ‘How to be a Hero’ (as the cover of his still pristine copy of the required reading for those who chose the Hero path proclaimed) when everyone knew that the true essence of a hero was to boldly (‘naively!’ added the voice that sounded suspiciously like Allysa’s that lived in his head) face challenges in spite of the odds against them.

‘Will you put that down!’ sighed Alyssa as much out of habit as in response to any specific action of Rodderick’s. (This time he was sure it was her actual voice) ‘For someone who claims to have no interest in the magical path you spend an awful lot of time involving yourself in my spellcasting!’

‘I’ said Rodderick, chest puffed out with self-importance ‘I, am a Warrior. No, a Hero, a Saviour of the helpless…’ Alyssa rolled her eyes and turned back to the spell she was preparing. She knew this speech by heart, having heard it – or variations of it, at least – pretty much every day since Rodderick learned to talk. Often, she cursed the Fates that caused them to be born on the same day, in the same town, inextricably linking their futures. Nearly seventeen years on from that fateful day she had resigned herself to a life of enduring Rodderick’s adventures and the sticky situations he managed to entangle them both in with an annoying ease and frequency. Although, if she were honest, she had come to quite enjoy the light relief these escapades brought.

Heedless of Alyssa’s indifference to his monologue, Rodderick continued, tossing the small black pebble he had removed from Alyssa’s carefully constructed magic circle from hand to hand, higher and higher each time, as his oration reached a crescendo. ‘I have no need of magic. I have strength of both body and mind, purity of spirit and purpose…’

Alyssa tried – and failed – to suppress a snort of derision at this idea

‘…and such dexterity… oh. Ah, erm…’

Alyssa looked up, surprised that he should stumble in a recitation of a speech she had heard him make so many times she could now recite it almost as well as him.

Rodderick had fumbled the last catch, but that wasn’t what held Alyssa’s attention. The uncharacteristic lapse caught her attention, yes, but there was something else that happened a fraction of a heartbeat later that mesmerised her. That single moment between the stone leaving Rodderick’s left hand then failing to land cleanly in his right seemed to stretch and distort, with everything happening so slowly she felt almost as if she could reach out and pluck the pebble from the air before it hit the ground, despite the distance between the two of them. She blamed the pressure behind her eyes, against her eardrums, for the odd sensations and her distorted perception, but deep down, she knew it was something else. Something different, totally unknown to her, and maybe the world she knew too. Shaking her head once more, she glimpsed the river out of the corner of her eye. That DEFINITELY wasn’t right.

Seeing the polished pebble slip through his fingers, Rodderick tried to catch it, but missed and stumbled forwards, almost falling from the rock he was perched on. Feeling unsteady on his feet is a new sensation for Rodderick; his mother often joked he was part mountain goat, so adept was he at scaling walls and rockfaces without so much as a stumble or misstep. Something scratches at the back of his brain, telling him there is something off here, that time was running too slowly, but he chose to ignore it, instead taking a deep breath, planting his feet firmly, he blinks, then blinks again, the second time squeezing his eyes tighter and for longer, before risking a fuller glance at the river. No, it was still running backwards. Or was he somehow backwards? He twisted and turned on the spot, then spun around fast. Almost falling from his perch, he somehow managed to catch his balance at the last moment, springing forward and landing with clumsy grace.

Alyssa’s instinct was to return to town as fast as possible, and from the discombobulated expression on Rodderick’s usually unperturbed face, she guessed he was feeling the same. When he began to help her pack away her magical supplies and the remains of their picnic, she knew something was seriously wrong, but neither of them was quite ready to talk about it yet. Wordlessly, they made their way to the edge of the forest, knowing they were only fifteen minutes from home, and – hopefully – some reassurance that everything was still somehow normal.

‘Wait’ said Rodderick, placing a hand on Alyssa’s shoulder as they neared the town. ‘There’s something not right here.’

Silently Alyssa agreed – Rodderick never hesitated, and rarely noticed anything out of the ordinary, unless it was something so obvious only a fool could fail to see it. She smirked to herself at the thought of Rodderick as a Fool, dressed in motley, prancing and joking, speaking unspoken truths. The giggle that slipped from her lips broke her reverie, and she realised she, too, was different – always serious, calm in the face of adversity (and that came with irritating frequency whenever Rodderick was around) and solidly dependable. She realised she was no longer just confused and was rapidly creeping towards scared.

Rodderick noticed her discomfort – and both of them found this newfound sensitivity odd, but neither seemed to question the almost telepathic manner of communication they had suddenly developed. Maybe this was their fate finally manifesting? They needed to speak to their Guildmasters, the sooner the better.