Chapter 6 - The Point of Changing the World

19 1 1
                                    


"What the hell is this?" Mold asks with a scowl.

"Can you let me in first?" She makes a very big deal out of sighing and groaning before having the courtesy to allow me entrance into my apartment.

In the time that it took for me to walk home the muscular man's injuries had nearly fully healed, and now I lug him the rest of the way into my home and throw him onto the couch. Immediately he begins snoring quietly... Had he still been conscious during our trip back?

In any case.

"This," I stretch one of my spare blankets over him; "Is one of the representatives."

"Which god is he representing?"

"I do not know."

"How the hell do you not know."

"Because he was unconscious when I first saw him."

"Then why the hell did you decide to bring back some random dude who's motives and powers we know nothing about?"

"Because he was going to get killed, Mold."

She stiffens up ever so slightly, and her scowl almost seems to relax for a moment; "That's what happens in Ragnarök. People die. Since you brought him back here I take it that means that you decided to take part in the battle, so you should get it into your head right now that you will be seeing a lot of death."

"Maybe so, but I don't intend for any of it to be by my hand or because of my inaction."

"Cuh!" With a scoff she starts pacing around my room; "That is the most naïve load of bull I have ever heard-"

"Oh, is it?" I spit back; "I thought that I was supposed to be some sort of violent monster? Why are you getting so huffy because I think that preventing as many casualties as I can is maybe something a decent person should do? And what the hell do you mean naïve? This is your first Ragnarök too! I don't see how you're in any position to be calling me naïve, unless of course you've been lying to my face this entire time and you just want to puppeteer me from the sidelines or something."

Mold is still now, her one visible eye drilling into me from the other side of the room. After a while she finally speaks up;

"Fine. Have it your way. If you have to learn how this works the hard way, who am I to stop you."

"Oh, so now you're changing your mind so that you don't have to share more about who you are and why you're 'helping' me, is it? I'm starting to think that this random loser I found on the street will be a more trustworthy ally than-"

"Or maybe!" she cuts me off with a yell, before taking a moment to get her voice back in check; "Maybe I'm a time traveller, Brady. Maybe I have reasons for not saying certain things because I'm worried that it will have an actual effect on the timeline."

"Oh really? You seemed pretty gung ho about letting it splinter off earlier, or however it works."

"Y'know what? If you want to know so bad, fine. The reason why I'm helping you, of allllll the people out there-"

"Wait wait wait, now that you're willing to say it I'm not so sure that it's actually such a good idea. You see, I don't particularly fancy being trapped in an endless paradox"

"No, that's fine. If we die then we die. It'll make it easier from here on out one way or another. The reason that I'm helping you, Brady, is because when I was doing my research on the year 2000's Ragnarök, there was only one person dead before the year changed. That person was you. So when you come back lugging an unknown man into your house the only thing that I can do is be a little bit worried."

...

"Well, in retrospect I can see how that particular piece of information could have done actual damage to spacetime or whatever."

I don't know if it's the fact that the big mystery has finally been revealed, or that my total ineptitude on the nature of time-travel makes me say some seriously stupid stuff, but either way the weight that had been dragging down the atmosphere in the room suddenly lifted, and before I know it Mold and I are having a bit of a laughing fit.

Once we finally get our breath back Mold responds; "Yeah, but it didn't. We're still here, after all. I guess my presence in this time has already done whatever damage it's going to do, or maybe nothing's happening because the end result is still going to end up the same."

"Hey, speaking of which, how does this Ragnarök end?"

"I'm afraid that's something that I actually can't tell you. The victor usually isn't recorded, unless they choose to preserve their legacy themselves, however oftentimes they like to keep their anonymity so their descendants are safe for the next battle.

"My personal theory is that there was no winner, or they shaped history in a selfish way, as there weren't any sort of abrupt technological or societal advancements in the 2000s."

"Wait, there can be no winner?"

"Yeah, for one reason or another. Everyone could have just ended up dead, or the victor could have buckled under the pressure of having a world altering wish granted."

"Huh. Well, I sure won't."

"You won't huh? And what is your wish, Brady Tyson?"

"I'm going to put an end to bloodshed. If the power given to the winner is so boundless, then I'm going to make it so that there will never be another war fought on this planet."

"Hoho, very noble. I think I'd like to help you see that through." she smiles at me. Not her usual smug grin, but an actual, warm smile.

"You really aren't planning on backstabbing me, huh?"

Mold frowns again, and then opens the door to my balcony. The resting man lets out a light snore, as if to indicate for me to go on, and I follow Mold out into the night air. The moon is still beaming down brilliantly, and the glow from downtown is peeking over the hill. In the distance I can see Olympia, a singular light shining from the topmost room. Right, I still have to call Mr. Argyr-

"The thing is Brady."

"Hm?" I snap back to our conversation.

"I'm just here as an observer, really. I don't belong in this time, and the risks will continue to mount the more I interfere with the original course of history. That being said, I do think that you have a good heart, and with a little bit of outside help, a good chance at winning. So for your ideals, sure, I'm willing to help you out. Just don't expect me to continue your heroic mission if you do end up biting it."

"Wow, what a smooth talker you are."

"Thanks."

I look at her, but she's not looking at me. Her gaze is lost in the stars, her creepy shark teeth reflecting the moonlight in the frown they're in. After a minute she catches on, and her eye catches mine. Another smile. They're kind of relaxing.

"C'mon," the alien girl says to me, "there are still a couple hours until sunrise, why don't you try to get some rest, I'll watch sleeping beauty over there."

"Mm, that might be nice." As I walk to my room I call over my shoulder; "what were you doing while I was gone all day?"

"I'll tell you in the morning. Goodnight, Brady."

"Night, Mold."

And with all of the mental and physical exhaustion that had occured over the past several hours, it practically feels like I'm asleep before I'm even properly in bed. 

Brady Tyson & The Two Little LiarsWhere stories live. Discover now