The Isochronism

Chanevera faced west, and when the sun set, the buildings of Chanevera sparkled. 

There was nothing more beautiful than the glint of the crimson light off the obsidian that made up the city. And yet despite the picturesque beauty of the unfolding scene, Shale stood completely alone. She was the only one in the entire city brave enough to face the darkening sky.

Every evening, just before the red sunset faded to black, the entire city fell into silence. It felt abandoned, with nobody to watch the light melt away. Nobody except Shale. 

She blinked as the wind blew into her squinting eyes. It tossed her blonde hair as she stared into the fading sky. She knew that because of the empty streets, nobody would ever see her tears. She felt alone, but more than that, she felt scared. All she could think of was the final promise from her best friend. 

“I can save you.”

In her hand she carried two notes. One was for her brother, Yoran. The other for her friend. Both were signed with her name, but Shale had no idea what either note said. It wasn’t her hand that had written them. She hoped they were goodbye letters, but she suspected something more. A final gambit that could save her world. But it wouldn’t save Shale. It couldn’t save her, no matter what her friend said.

Before the light was gone, Shale Zoura was going to be killed. And she was the only one who knew it.

*  *  *

Dear Yoran,

I’ve figured it out. Everything is finally falling into place. 

I know their secret. 

There’s an ancient evil deep beneath the surface of this city, and I found it. I found them. Another cult, one much more ancient than the others. They call themselves ‘The Isochronism.’ Most people think they’re just a myth, but they’re real, and their plans for this city are more terrifying than you could ever imagine.

Tonight I am going to find them. I’m going to finally uncover the secrets that have been hidden for thousands and thousands of years. What could be more valuable than a secret? Something that nobody knows, except me. 

I just need time. Give me time, and this will all make sense. No matter what happens, remember that I’m here for you. And even if I don’t make it back, I’m here with you. You’re the greatest brother I could ever ask for. 

From: Shale Zoura

Yoran wrinkled the note, grabbed an obsidian helmet from his bedside table, and slid it over his head. There was a satisfying click as the helmet snapped into place. The inside of the helmet was as black as midnight, and it made the darkness even darker. The slits in the edge of the helmet restricted his vision enough that he couldn’t see immediately to his left or right, just straight ahead. But even though it obscured his vision, it also hid his face from anyone who might see him. They wouldn’t see the fear in his eyes, or the worry scrawled on his face. Instead, they’d see a knight, a sentinel. A foe that couldn’t be destroyed, who could destroy anything with the mere wave of a hand. He wasn’t weak, and he never had been. He would find his sister, no matter what. She’d only been missing for two days, and that meant he could still save her.

He reached into the pouch concealed on his belt and pulled out a single sphere. He threw it violently against his wall, and when it broke, the air split in half. White fire tore through space and time, opening a pathway to a citadel outside of reality, a crossroads that could take him anywhere.

When he finally stepped out into the night, walking the streets of the peninsula, he was getting impatient. He should have done this a long time ago. There was only one place Shale could be, and that was with her outsider friend, a boy who didn’t even know that magic was real. Shale trusted him. Maybe she’d sent him a note too. Or maybe she was even with him. 

Yoran wasn’t sure how he’d find the boy yet. For now, all he had was a name. Areon. 

*  *  *

Areon pulled his ragged shawl tighter around his shoulders, staring off into the darkness. He walked with purpose, happy to be alone. During the day, he spent time with his brother, but during the night, he found freedom in the darkness. Nobody here knew who he really was. They didn’t see him as a prince, but as another survivor. The thieves and beggars that walked the streets respected him. They’d still betray him if he ever trusted any of them, but they didn’t hate him. Not like they hated the nobles. 

Areon was feeling especially angry tonight. He’d tried talking to his father about the disappearances again, but just like last time, his father had said that the disappearances weren’t his problem. Areon was scared. He was scared of whoever was making the people of his city go missing, and he was scared of the masked man who he’d spotted watching him. 

Tonight, Areon was going to act. He was only a step under a prince; His father controlled most of the peninsula’s armada, making his family one of the most important ones on the peninsula. He had the power to do something about the people whom nobody cared about. He had to care, because he was the only one who ever would. It was up to him to save them. Beggars and orphans had been vanishing for weeks—or perhaps much longer—and Areon wanted to know why. It was always people without family or friends, people who didn’t matter to important families. 

Areon froze. Someone was watching him. The entire night suddenly seemed deathly quiet. No seagulls screeching or wind blowing. He didn’t move. He didn’t want to look behind him and see that unnatural obsidian mask, with its single red eye, that had lurked just out of his vision for so long. 

A white flash of lightning split the air, followed immediately by a crack of thunder. Areon jumped backward, and out of the shadows stepped an Obsidian Sentinel. It wasn’t the masked man. It was just one of the mysterious sentinels that roamed the city under the direction of the king.

“Areon,” the man yelled. 

Areon looked up at the sentinel’s helmet, squinting. 

“What do you want?” he asked. 

“I want to know where my sister is,” the man said. “My name is Yoran Zoura. And if you don’t answer my questions, I will not hesitate to destroy you.”

Yoran raised a hand, and it began to glow with white light. Areon’s eyes widened. It was impossible. It was magic. That was supposed to be a myth, a story reserved for the long nights of fishing. This couldn’t be real. 

*  *  *

The masked man stood over Shale’s broken body, a clean knife in his hand. He stood deep beneath the city of Chanevera. These tunnels weren’t like the rest of the city. They were catacombs, ancient and abandoned long ago. They didn’t look like what catacombs should look like, though. That just made them all the more terrifying for those who didn’t know the truth about them. 

He took a step forward, his boots sinking into the carpet that covered the entire catacombs. The carpet muffled all sound, making the catacombs completely silent. Then the masked man knelt and plunged his knife into Shale’s body. It all began tonight. The beginning of the end. Chanevera would fall. It had to. There was nobody who could stop it now. The only person who could have ever stopped them was Shale.

He yanked his knife out of her body and didn’t even bother to wipe off the blood. 

Nobody knew who he was, and he just had to ensure it stayed that way.