Oregon in the Fall - 16. Chapter Sixteen: Aaru

“It’s really bright down there,” Clara said, her eyes narrowing against the glow.

“You really think we should go down into that… well?” Dave’s voice held a hint of uncertainty, his gaze fixed on the glowing abyss before us.

“We’ve come this far,” I asserted, stepping forward to lead the way.

The well wasn’t so much a physical structure as it was an endless expanse of white, stretching into infinity. The stone steps descending into it felt oddly young, untouched by time, as if preserved or cleansed by the blinding light emanating from below.

As we approached the edge, a silence enveloped us, the rhythmic heartbeat the only defeaning sound. A flash of memory—chains, cold air, the tang of old blood—flickered through my mind, but I pushed it away. This was different. This was our path, our way forward… to Mark?

With a deep breath, I took the first step forward. The stone was unexpectedly warm, smooth underfoot like river-worn rock, contrasted by the labyrinth’s ancient texture. The question of whether this place was real or some elaborate illusion gnawed at me as we descended further, the light transitioning from harsh splinters to a gentle sea.

A peculiar sense of warmth spread up from the stones, countering the chill creeping into my bones. Dave’s low murmur was lost to me, drowned out by the labyrinth’s heartbeat. It was the only sound after all, and without it, there was nothing. Endless nothing.

The staircase stretched and stretched, lulling us into a hypnotic march. With each step, the labyrinth and its ancient walls seemed to fade, replaced by an expanse of formless light and an oppressive silence.

A feeling of being watched prickled my skin, and I caught Clara’s uneasy glance. “Grey,” she started, her voice trailing off as her grip tightened on the strap of her backpack.

Suddenly, the stone steps ceased, leaving us at the edge of a vast, shimmering expanse. Was it the ground, a wall, or the boundary of reality itself?

“This is Aaru. This is the end,” a voice resonated around us, originless and omnipresent.

Silence again.

Whirling around, I searched for the speaker, only to find the steps had vanished, leaving nothing but the endless expanse of light. My own movement didn’t make a sound. At first.

“Hi?” I ventured, hoping for a response.

No answer came, but Dave and Clara’s hands found mine, their touch grounding me. The sound of our skin touching became apparent. Surrounded by the serene light, their features took on an ethereal quality, their skin aglow with an otherworldly sheen.

The shimmering void seemed to extend infinitely in all directions, the sensation of walking replaced by an eerie feeling of suspension.

“This is Aaru. This is the end,” the voice repeated, surrounding us, its tone sending shivers down my spine. Was this where our journey ended, with Mark lost to us and our own fates uncertain?

“Who are you?” Clara’s voice, usually so confident, sounded small and fragile against the vastness of Aaru.

“Time unraveled,” came the reply as the light coalesced into a distinctly human silhouette. The male figure, once elongated and indistinct, now stood with undeniable power and grace, its obsidian skin rippling with muscles beneath a lattice of shifting light. There was an ancient might in its posture, a dignity that seemed beyond human.

“Welcome to the Seventh Construct. I am Chronos,” the figure announced, its voice booming yet warm.

The sounds became more normal, as if atmosphere was seeping in. I felt like I could breathe again. With the defeaning silence retreating, I relaxed just a tiny bit.

“What do you mean?” I said.

My question hung in the air. Chronos tilted his head slightly. “This is the Sheet of Time,” he explained, his voice carrying the weight of ages.

Dave, equally puzzled as I was, admitted our collective ignorance. “We don’t get it.”

Chronos appeared momentarily confused, as if the language he spoke and the concepts he conveyed should have been inherently understandable. “You should be able to comprehend,” he insisted, his brow furrowing.

Clara, ever pragmatic, pointed out the linguistic anomaly. “You’re speaking English, sure. But what is a Construct?”

“I am not speaking English,” Chronos said.

“Huh?” I responded. I felt stupid.

“Constructs exist before your reality.”

“What?” Dave said.

“Constructs are made before you are made,” Chronos continued, apparently attempting to bridge the vast cognitive gap between us and him.

“This is going to be a long day,” I said and started rubbing my temples.

“There is no day or night here,” Chronos said, a matter-of-fact tone to his voice.

Clara’s frustration bubbled over. “Oh for crying out loud…”

“Please don’t cry,” Chronos said gently, misunderstanding her profusely.

“Okay, okay. Let’s start from the beginning,” I suggested.

“Beginning. End. I am the Custodian of Pace,” Chronos introduced himself again, though the title only added to my bewilderment. Was he deliberately being dense?

“The what now?” I said.

Chronos looked lost in thought for a moment before returning to the matter at hand. “You can’t stay here.”

“We weren’t planning to. We came looking for help. Can you help?” Dave said.

“Yes,” Chronos replied simply.

“Then help!” Clara’s demand was both a plea and a command.

“An entity named Theodore is locked inside the First Construct,” Chronos said, his voice taking on a somber note.

“Locked? Did you lock him up?” I said.

“We did. He is upsetting the balance,” Chronos admitted, the gravity of the situation clear in his tone.

Clara’s concern for her own abilities came to the forefront. “I know. My magic is… wrong. Can’t you fix it?”

“No. I can help,” Chronos offered, a distinction that seemed crucial to him.

“Listen. I think you are more powerful than we can imagine and…” I said.

“Yes,” Chronos interrupted, his agreement immediate.

“Then why can’t you just get rid of him?” I wanted to know.

“He is upsetting the balance. You need to mend it. Restore. The harm was done, removing him from existence would not fix it. But we must hurry. You can’t stay here,” Chronos said.

“You said that before,” Dave reminded him.

“We can allow gods to enter. But it is contested. I decide it is necessary. But the others do not agree. You must not stay for long,” Chronos explained.

“How does the god thing work?” Dave inquired, seeking to understand our newfound status. Good question to be honest.

“Past. Present. It is too hard for you to comprehend,” Chronos said.

“Then make it simple,” I requested. My patience was thinning.

“We bring back The Triad. Wepwawet is born and Theodore plans to harness the power. Planned, I apologize. Time is fluid for us,” Chronos said.

“Continue,” Clara said.

“Wepwawet, Aten, Osiris. The Triad. You will fix the balance,” Chronos stated, his declaration resonating with a sense of destiny.

“Mark is gone. Osiris, he is gone,” Dave interjected, the pain of our loss palpable.

“No. He is scattered among timeways,” Chronos corrected. Maybe there was hope.

“How?” I demanded. My frustration was mounting.

“We do not know,” Chronos admitted. He doesn’t know?

“You do not know? Are you fucking kidding me?” Clara said, blunt as ever.

“The Triad will fix the balance. You must bring Osiris back. Sekhmet will help you,” Chronos concluded, his gaze fixed on Clara.

Oh.

“Who is Sekhmet?” Clara asked. Yeah, I think I understood before she did.

“You. You heal. You protect The Triad,” Chronos said to her.

“How was Theodore able to speak to us? How did he set a trap off?” I said.

“His containment is imperfect. I apologize. Labirinthoset is very close to the boundaries of your reality and the origin. He… seeps through. It is urgent that we fix the source. Where it begins,” Chronos emphasized the critical nature of our mission.

“Where it began, you mean?” Dave said.

“Where it… began. Yes. Your birthplace,” Chronos said.

“Fuck,” I said, realizing what it meant. No.

“You must return,” Chronos instructed. Why did it have to be my home?

Chronos gestured towards a direction that seemed both everywhere and nowhere. But for the first time in this place, I began to see forms, and structures. No longer was it an endless expanse of white. There were trees, ashen in appearance, as if carved out of crayons. Buildings, oh so many vast buildings. They shouldn’t have made sense in this forest of everything, but they did. They too were white. To be honest, the starkest contrast here was us. Almost as colorful as the rainbow versus the colorlessness of this realm. Chronos with his obsidian skin felt like he was towering over everything. Which he probably was.

“You must go to the Sixth Construct,” he explained, an urgent tone to his voice. “I come with you. This is not easy.”

As we navigated through the seamless expanse, the ambient light began to shift, morphing from the soothing omnipresence to a spectrum of vibrant colors, but eventually settling on a somber purple. This was probably heralding our approach to another realm of existence. Existence? What the hell did I know anyway.

The transition was disorienting, the boundaries blurring, except there were no boundaries. Everything around us was reforming into a new, breathtaking vista.

The Sixth Construct materialized, a realm defined by its energy and vibrant purplish hues. It was here that I saw a Citadel. It extended into the heavens—were there heavens?—by a thousand planets in distance, impossible to reach even higher. Except it probably was possible.

“This is Inari’s domain. She is alone,” Chronos said.

Sure.

All of us seemed in awe of what we saw. But then a thundering clap startled us greatly. I stumbled backwards to the sound of it. Lightning came soon after, with a delay, but far far into the distance, reaching high up into the sky around the Citadel.

A crackling voice. Energized. “Chronos. Why are you here?”

“The gods came, as I said they would,” Chronos responded.

“You and your timeways. It confuses me. I have no time for you,” the voice said.

“Oh yes. Yes you do. You will meet us, and I apologize for speeding things up.”

With that, his skin started radiating white. The cracks in his obsidian skin became apparent, extending, as if he was breathing the energy out. The purple clouds around the Citadel began moving fast, faster, fastest. Was… time speeding up?

And in the mere blink of an eye, there they were. Another one of them. This was Inari, I guess.

“This was unnecessary,” the being said, wonderful and present, neither male nor female, but evolved.

“Oh, dear Inari, if it hadn’t been necessary, I wouldn’t have done it.”

“Fair point. So I’m here, what now?”

They were taller than us. And they looked down on me.

“Oh look. It’s Wepwawet. Cute.”

I looked up at them. “Hi?”

“Yes. Hi. You’re the one I like. I think you were my idea. But I don’t remember. Doesn’t matter.” She focused back on Chronos. “We made this group of idiots and look where we are. Reality is broken because of a mortal who meddled. If I cared, it would be embarassing to me.”

Inari herself, a being radiating with a purple light that seemed to pulse with the very heartbeat of the universe, stood there, crossing their arms. Their presence was commanding, the demeanor cold and unwelcoming. “So what now, Chronos?” she demanded, their voice a blend of curiosity and reprimand. “We agreed lesser beings should not be involved.”

“Then why make them? And I did not agree—do not agree—about not involving them. They have to fix the balance.”

Inari’s gaze shifted towards us, analyzing, judging. “You broke it in the first place,” she said.

“We did no such thing!” Clara exclaimed.

“Humans. Cursed with flesh. Such a fickle experiment. And here we are, the thing we created seeping into our own existence. The Theodore is like a cancer. Without you, he would never have been.”

I felt bold, and said, “True. But if I understand correctly, only we can fix it. Right?”

“Right,” she said, “because his influence has spread. And you are the immune system to fight it. It is below us to do so.”

“Again,” I was being so bold, “not to boast or anything, but it seems like you need us. It’s not below you. You simply can’t do it.”

This amused Chronos greatly. He began with a chuckle that turned into a hearty laugh. His voice was so booming however that it felt like it would crack the very walls of the Citadel before us.

Inari was visibly annoyed. “He’s clever. I’ll give you that. But I can’t simply send them back. The majority did not agree. We have to confer, Chronos.”

Chronos said, “Except there is no time.”

“You can make time.”

“That’s not how it works, Inari.”

“How does it work then?”

“In a mere moment, Theodore will attack Wepwawet here. And this will force you to send them back.”

“Oh, I hate timeways…” She sounded so annoyed.

But what did he just say? Who is going to attack me? What did I do? It was at that moment a palpable darkness crept into the edge of my consciousness, a familiar malevolence that I had come to associate with Theodore. I could feel him drawing on my power, a leeching sensation that left me momentarily weakened. “He’s here,” I managed to say, my voice strained as I fought against the intrusion. But it wasn’t working.

The realization that Theodore’s influence was right here, right now, must have alarmed Inari. Her expression shifted, a mix of concern and determination replacing her initial reluctance. “This changes things, I guess,” she conceded. “We cannot allow his meddling to extend to a god. You must be separated from his reach.”

With a wave of her hand, the space around us began to warp, a portal of swirling colors coalescing in the air before us, but purple at its center. “I will send you back,” Inari declared, annoyance remaining in her voice, “but know this—your return is not without consequences. Be swift in your actions, for the fabric of reality is delicate.”

As we were sucked into the portal, Inari’s final warning echoed in our minds, a reminder of the weighty responsibility that now rested on our shoulders. The sensation of teleportation was unlike any journey I had undertaken, a feeling of being unraveled and reassembled, molecule by molecule. And it tasted like grapes.

When the world solidified around us once more, we found ourselves back in the familiar surroundings of the Strawberry Mountains, the dense forest air a stark contrast to the ethereal atmosphere of the Constructs.

I felt light-headed, unstable on my feet. “Ow,” I said.

To our surprise, Chronos stood among us, his once shimmering form now housed in a strikingly human body—a muscular man with black skin not unlike the obsidian quality of his Construct counterpart that echoed his divine exterior. Magnificent. And kinda hot. He was smaller though now, roughly my size.

His appearance among us was as unexpected to him as it was to us. “This is… unusual,” he admitted, looking down at his new, more mortal form with a mixture of fascination and bemusement.

“We’re back,” Clara said, a note of relief in her voice despite the surreal turn of events. “But why are you here?” She looked at Chronos.

“It seems the Constructs have one more surprise for us,” Dave remarked, his hand finding mine in a reassuring grip. It sent a jolt through me.

Our return to the realm of mortals, accompanied by a god now bound in human form, marked the beginning of a new chapter in our quest. With Theodore’s threat looming ever closer, our mission was clear—we needed to confront the curse at its source, within the heart of my pack.

Fuck.

But it could bring Mark back?

And then I looked at Dave. He was sniffing the air, senses he had barely used since his transformation. It made me so happy. But then his head lowered, his gaze fixing on me.

He looked at me. Me.

“You smell…” he said, “like hazelnuts, and the river, and…”

“And?” I asked him, a smile on my face that must’ve been so big.

“You smell like home.”

And that was the best thing I ever heard.