Souls

After months of waiting, Marshall finally paid me a visit. He appeared in the doorway of my room, observing me silently. Upon seeing him, I grabbed the wooden box that I had received from Adon and turned to confront him. He spoke before I did.

“Finally going to ask, huh?” he said.

“What are these?” I demanded. “And why are you having me find them.”

He sighed and stepped into the room, walking along the wall over to the window.

“Do you know how many Emissaries I've killed?” he asked.

“13,” I said. “The other you, from my timeline, mentioned it.”

“That's right,” he said. “They're what I'm looking for.”

“So these objects carry the souls of those Emissaries?” I asked.

“Yes,” he said.

“And why are you collecting them?” I asked.

“I have my reasons,” he said.

“Tell me,” I insisted.

“No,” he said, quietly.

“What?” I asked.

“No,” he repeated. “I don't need to tell you. And I won't.”

“Then you can find the rest of them on your own,” I told him.

“Oh really?” he asked.

“I wanna know what I've gotten myself into,” I said. “Just why are you gathering these? What the hell are your intentions?”

He glared at me through his one good eye, judging me silently.

“Fine,” he said after a while. “You really wanna know what my intentions are?”

“Yes,” I said.

“I intend to bring them back,” he said.

“WHAT!!??” I demanded.

“You heard me,” he said.

“Why!?” I demanded. “These are servants of the Game Master! Why should they deserve to-”

“And there's the difference between you and me, ParaDan,” He said, cutting off my sentence. “You allowed 15 years of pain to destroy the man you used to be. You threw your morals away, and you no longer see servants as people. They're just fodder for you to cut through with that rapier of yours.”

I fell silent, not quite sure how to respond to that. It took me a moment to think of what to say.

“Even by my standards, this sounds like a bad idea,” I said. “How do you know this wound explode in both of our faces?”

“I don't,” he said. “But I need them. They're exactly the soldiers who can help.”

“So what, are you trying to build some kind of army?” I asked.

“Yes,” He replied.

“For what?” I demanded.

“Daniel wasn't wrong when he said you might have made things worse for this timeline,” he said.

“And what's that supposed to mean?” I asked.

“Do you know what happens when you time travel?” he asked.

“It splits the timelines, doesn't it?” I asked.

“That's one thing,” he said. “It also creates a temporal ripple in the new timeline. It can last for several years, but normally doesn't do much. When I went back, it really didn't have too big of an effect, other then drawing some unwanted attention. However, the ripple you created is another story. Because of it, something is coming. Something bad.”

“So I've basically doomed this timeline?” I asked.

“Not quite,” he said. “Making things worse isn't always a bad thing. It gives us a chance to make things better.”

“What?” I asked.

“Your presence here gives us an opportunity to stop what's coming,” he said. He then motioned to the box in my hand. “But we'll need help.”

I looked down at the box in my hand, pondering it.

“This is a really stupid idea,” I said.

“It's risky, yes,” he said. “But it's worth a shot. Same logic you had in mind when you time traveled, right?”

He was more or less right about that. Still...

“I'll try this out,” I said hesitantly. “But if this goes wrong, it's on you.”

He smiled. “Good. I know where the next one is.”