Until This World Ends

Ch12: Memories of Children

Valentine woke to fingers pushing his hair out of his face. He knew the presence of his mentor, so he didn't open his eyes. "You aren't one for touch, Gareth."

"I've not been one to come back from the dead, until now." The old man's hand stilled, held in a formal pattern of blessing on Regis' brow. "It's strange how you're so young and I'm so old."

"Not that old." The crown prince sat up and stretched. "You might be, by the end of it. I've never been a consistent age when they come. Our lives have a lot of wagon ruts, but the cart still moves at its own pace."

"How many times can you transfer memories like this?" The old man leaned forward, forearms on his knees, to be on a more even level with the youth. "Would it benefit us to wake up many people?"

Regis shook his head. "It's not like she left me with instructions. I suspect I have the natural limit of needing a strong connection with the person. That, and I'm not sure how often I can do this."

"What's the upper limit?"

"Safely? Somewhere around 100 people, perhaps." Regis shrugged. "In many lives, I cared for the same person. You'll remember 3 where you were my only focus, and many others where I answered to you, but loved a wife."

'A wife, you say?" The old man thought about it for a moment. "It wasn't the same woman each lifetime, was it?"

"No, it wasn't." Regis wasn't fully Valentine, each Valentine...or Heelix, Frank, James, or John. The names that popped up in the rare lifetime were when a grandfather dictated his naming. But it was never Regis, not until this life.

Of those lives married, the greater portion was to Valeria or Vesper—that wasn't always the name of a dog. She was his sorrow, the one he missed dearly.

But in other lives, it was the woman called Whisper. She was Alrisha, an exotic woman from eastern nations, sometimes Lamria when out of the Isle of Mistfolk. Symphora was when she was native to Asheradama. All the names implied she was bound to him, true, but she had a habit of betraying him, life after life. The two times he didn't outlive the end were due to her betrayal.

And he had no idea why she would, in any of those moments. Not yet, at least.

"There were two common choices. The one most likely to be here right now is Valeria, sometimes called Vesper. I shouldn't have too much time to waste, not even for love." The thought made Regis chuckle because he had wasted his first years of adulthood on lust. "Do you have an idea of how much time we have?"

"In 11 years, 4 days, a small rip in our world will occur over the Cradle of Man, and the great plains will become barren." The old man slowly stood up, wincing, before he started pacing. "I will make a list of who I need, and I will have them found. You do the same, Regis. You have the backing to order most commoners to do your bidding, after all."

After this meeting, the two of them had little time for each other, save reporting to King Rexius. It was a busy year of gathering talents and waking minds.

The great mechanical genius called Mickhelm had surfaced in a panic. He remembered how many of his machines worked and where they failed. The Goddess tried to depend on the might of man alone for the first few lives. Without the Goddess' powers, Riders were impossible to survive their first encounter.

Perhaps if man had a chance to study them, that would have changed the outcome of the mechanized wars. To that end, Valentine gifted him Th'Thee's remains, along with whatever documents Gareth had translated on the more dangerous beasts, to give Mickhelm's fears a focus.

To make matters worse, the first thing Regis put him up to was clearing the paths of the great forest, up to 100 steps off the path. That creature of death didn't need to stalk humanity through the woods. Who knew how many people had fallen prey to it? Valentine suspected that the creature of the Blackwood would hinder Mickhelm's supply chain, at the very least.

In many lives, they starved—not as often, in the end ones, as they were better prepared for the plagues of locusts. To ease that risk, Regis summoned Miran, the king's gardener. The crown prince noticed that many of Rexius successes stemmed from Miran being his advisor. But in some lives, the king and gardener didn't make that connection. Those times, the people paid heavily for their lord's orders.

Trains and background industrialization halted without the pullmen's twins. They were Dheebie's descendants in lifetimes that did not learn of steam power. Regis vacillated between the current eldest set and this era's newborns. Gareth argued against the children's involvement until they nearly grown.

This is where Valentine learned the limit of his ability to open minds. He had a close relationship with the younger set, but only ever connected to one of the elders. Trying to open the mind of Bartlett put the crown prince in a coma for a week.

But it was successful, at least partially. Bartlett could remember some 30 iterations. Most of those lives were relevant to the work that Regis ordered.

Gareth then advised the prince to be careful with who he chose to awaken. They may have a greater chance moving forward, but neither felt they had made the defining change that could save them all, and there were too many years left to go.

That, and Regis was gambling on his life before he gave Carwen and Guin a chance at living.