You would think that after five years, the tower guards would have found the book hidden within James’s chest. However, intelligence was not high on Lord Poxs’s list of employee requirements.

  Before James was captured all those years ago, he exhausted the st of his powers to seal the book in a protective bubble within his chest cavity.

  The massive doors of the dining hall kept the sounds of Lord Poxs’s rampage from seeping into the room; the silence was starting to mess with James’s nerves. The room kept the outside noise out, which meant James would have to hurry with his pn before the guards got the drop on him.

  What page was it on— James’s blood-filled cough interrupted his thought process. The blood loss was starting to affect James; removing the book without the use of his powers, he ended up creating a rge hole in his chest, resulting in a fountain of blood that seemed to have no end in sight.

  Fast, repeating breaths accompanied the sound of blood filling the ground James stood on. His vision was beginning to fade, which made the situation worse with each passing second.

  After what seemed like an eternity, James finally gave up and threw the book on the ground, extinguishing his hope. The force of his throw caused James to slump over into the pool of his blood. The poor bastard couldn’t muster the strength to get up, causing him to choke on his blood.

  Like a dying roach giving its final death throes, James y hopelessly cursing the idiotic idea he had carried with him for the st five years, escaping the tower. What an idiot he was; the only thing keeping him from breaking was his hope in the so-called “Book of Time” what a load of horse shit.

  James struggled, but by some miracle, he brought his arms under his head, elevating himself from drowning. “Damn it—” James could barely muster as his coughing fit overpowered him. Within coughs, James screamed as he stared at the blood-soaked book,” Five years, damn it—” cough, “five long years and the great book of time turned out to be a waste of my time,” James ughed as he completed the st line.

  Fuck I’m going to die; I should have gone through the roof hatch and tried my luck in the desert. James's brave fa?ade finally cracked, and the man who had spent a decade avenging his loved ones began to weep.

  Was there anything more heart-wrenching to witness than a man who truly gave up?

  You spend your whole life trying to do the right thing, but in the end, only those few blessed by the heavens live in peace; James coughed for the st time as he closed his eyes; fate truly is a bitch.

  As the embers of life began to dim within James, a burst of ughter began to fill the room. “Fate is a bitch,” the voice seemed to change as the ughter continued “ Damn, I hadn’t ughed that hard in centuries,” one second, the voice sounded like a child, then grew more profound like a young adult woman “ that bitch really hated you” again the voice changed It seemed like an elderly woman was speaking, “ but what do you expect you killed one of her beloved scions.”

  The voice seemed to age while speaking. James’s eyes burst open as he finished his thought, as if the person were going through time.

  A slender foot turned James’s head forward, causing him to rotate completely. This revealed a young adult woman wearing a long, hooded shawl and a bck, flowy skirt held up by a string-like belt.

  “James Von Berkshire, I was wondering when you would try to activate my book,” she said. As she spoke, the color of her clothing began to fade, her smooth olive skin started to crack, and deep wrinkles appeared on her once-perfect body. “Young man, did your parents never tell you not to keep a woman waiting?” The voice seemed to match her elderly form.

  “You stole my book from my elder brother’s grand library and lived to tell the tale; quite impressive, I might add,” with a wave of her wrinkled hand, the hole in James’s chest began to heal like it was never there.

  As she continued to speak, James felt a sense of relief, a feeling that seemed like a distant memory. The woman knelt beside James, touching his cheek like a grandmother comforting her sweet grandchildren after a long day. An experience that seemed so foreign to the old man, he spent countless nights drinking himself to bed. He sought soce in his liquid cabinet, the best remedy for suppressing the memories of his family.

  After so long, I truly believed I had numbed the pain of their deaths. James thought as he tried so desperately to keep his emotions in check. Blood oozed from the palms of his hands as he dug his nails into his clenched fists. I'm stronger than this. A mantra James found himself repeating to himself in the early years of his banishment from his family, a phrase his younger self worked tremendously to believe.

  I’m stronger than this; you have to keep it under control.

  The tower, the most vile prison in the realms, couldn’t break James, but a simple hand caressing his cheek was all it took to break him. It was a gesture that seemed so simple in hindsight, but it was enough to bring a grown man back to a simpler time, a life he had wished for every night since his banishment.

  James turned his gaze to the elderly woman beside him. The woman's eyes were filled with compassion, making it much harder for him to keep from breaking down completely. His mother had the same look in her eyes when she comforted him.

  James had had enough and shut his eyes in a st-ditch effort to keep his memories at bay, but in all honesty, James knew he could never forget his past. He squeezed his eyes as another wave of memories came flooding in. I miss my mom, James repeated in his head as a single tear managed to break free. After all these long, pain-filled years, James Von Berkshire, a grown man who reached the age of 150, would give everything to hug his mother again. It didn’t matter how old James was; a child would always seek the loving embrace of their mother.

  If I could only go back and sp my childhood self, James’s lip trembled, too embarrassed to hug their mom in front of others; what an idiot I was.

  James paused his self-loathing thoughts as a hand ran through his hair, and a sweet, comforting voice reached his ears.

  “My sweet child, it's ok to cry.”

  When he heard the reassuring voice beside him, James burst into tears. His tears seemed to flow without an end as if James were waiting for permission to cry.

  The woman brought James in for a hug and rubbed his back as she whispered, “Let it all out, my boy.”

  “It’s okay to feel weak,” James nozzled into her chest as she made him feel a sense of security that he surely missed.

  “I’ll let nothing hurt you—” Before she could finish speaking, the sound of two massive doors flung open, and the footsteps of hundreds of demons ranging from all shapes and sizes rushed towards her and James.

  “Kill the bastard!”

  “Let's skin him alive!”

  Sp

  The rampaging mob came to a screeching halt as the tallest of the demons spped the face of an overeager demon who was about to fire off his arrow.

  “You butch of idiots, we can’t kill the prisoner Lord Poxs wants to make an example out of the bastard!”

  The crowd's enthusiasm faded as they stopped and examined the warning from the rger demon. After a short while, the crowd began cheering and cpping, focusing on their leader.

  “See, that's why he is the head guard; you must love his sense of leadership.”

  As the rest of the guards were acting like a bunch of schoolgirls worshiping the mere existence of the head guard, the overzealous archer had a single thought in his mind. Can I kill the woman?

  The small, impish archer raised his bow, tightening his grip on his arrow, and asked, “I can kill the bitch, right?”

  The head guard was taken aback. He had seen countless demons apply to become guards and protect the hollow halls of Lord Poxs’s prison, and he was the demon in charge of whipping the recruits into shape. Every year, the head guard was devastated by each new guard he encountered; he desperately wanted to meet a guard with the same hunger for bloodshed and duty as he had.

  Today, he finally got his wish and shed a tear as he looked at the trigger-happy archer who had to bite his bottom lip to keep himself from releasing his arrow. The newest recruit was straight out of the guard academy, but the head guard could see the rookie had the drive to lead him far in this line of work.

  The head guard gave the young archer a pat on the back and said, “Make sure you kill that bitch.”

  Like a well-oiled machine, the archer released his arrow with such precision that every guard in the room could tell the arrow would hit its mark.

  But right before the arrow made contact, the woman turned her head slightly and snapped her fingers.

  The arrow froze in pce, and the room went silent.

  The guards who were waiting in anticipation of the woman’s death found themselves stuck in pce. Some were frozen in the midst of cpping, and others were stuck while blinking, but regardless of what position they were stuck in, none of them seemed to be breathing.

  “Sorry about the commotion, James. It looks like I forgot to seal off the room.” The voice seemed younger and mildly seductive, which caused James to pull away from the hug and reexamine his savior’s appearance.

  James nearly choked on his saliva as he took in the sight of his savior’s new appearance. The kind elderly woman with the aura of a loving grandmother was long gone, and a seductress who could steal the hearts of everyone in her presence stood before him.

  It seemed like James’s mind wasn’t pying with him when he first caught a glimpse of his savior. Somehow, she seemed to have the ability to change her appearance or control her age at will, but regardless of her form, he was forever indebted to her.

  So far, James could recall three forms she changed into; the first was her child-like form, which seemed to exude joy. She first appeared when he cursed fate, and the young girl came out of thin air and ughed at his statement, “Fate is a bitch.” The second form she appeared in was her adult form, where she mentioned that his life was miserable because he killed one of fate’s beloved scions. It seemed strange that she acted as if fate were a literal person. The third form was the kind and caring elderly woman who gave James a shoulder to cry on.

  James couldn’t help but stare at his savior’s body, which he had to admit was breathtaking. Her clothing was back to its original state, and her gray hair had been repced with long, bck, flowing hair that poked out from her hooded shawl. But the part of her that made it hard for James to keep his cool was him noticing that she wore nothing underneath her shawl, and he had a clear view of her underboob and her well-toned abs.

  Stop acting like a horny teenager. Was five alone in a cell all it took to revert you to a perverted fool? You've seen a woman before, so act like it. James tried to look the woman in the eyes again, but like a bumbling idiot, his gaze found its way towards her chest.

  Just imagine her in her grandma form, you fucking idiot; she is just a kind wrinkly grandma. Forget her smooth, spotless skin and toned abs. Damn it. I can’t forget her seductive voice— James bit his bottom lip, forcing himself to focus on a singur thought: wrinkly grandma!

  The awkward silence was filled with a ugh. “Wrinkly grandma, is that all I am to you?” She wiped away a tear from ughing so hard.

  “Wait, I didn’t say that out loud.” James paused, then realized, “ You could read my mind.”

  “Sorry, I couldn’t help myself. You should’ve seen the look on your face. But I can't bme you. I have that effect on pretty much everyone.”

  James cleared his throat, “Let's put that awkward moment behind us and let me ask you something. Who or what are you?”

  The woman gave James a look that made him stop in his tracks and think for a moment if he had ever met a woman so stunning. He had always heard men spew the phrase, “I’ll go to war for her.” This conversation made him realize all those men were idiots. If you were to go to war for a woman, it had to be the one standing right before him at this very moment, because another woman was the wrong choice.

  James heard her sweet, joyful ugh that made him weak in the knees, but like she said, who could bme him?

  “I’m surprised, James. I expected you to realize my identity on your own, but that chest wound must have affected you more than I thought.” She turned around and faced the guards; she raised her hand and turned it clockwise, as if turning up a dial. The entire group of demons began to age rapidly, and within seconds, they turned to dust.

  She took a few steps forward, gathered the dust with a flick of her wrist, and created an ornate throne on which she happily sat. While she sat, she pyed with some leftover dust, twirling it between her hands to make a small hourgss.

  She pced the hourgss on the arm of the throne and stated in a booming voice, “I am the embodiment of time, the one who created the very concept of aging, one of the first children of the creator of all life in the realms. My name is TIME!”

  James spent much of his life around men and women who wielded power beyond his reach and dined with kings and queens, but none of them exuded the aura he felt at this moment.

  Time crossed her long, slender legs and held out her hand. The damn blood-soaked book that James spent five years hiding within him zoomed into the palm of TIME’S hand. The book began to change back to its pristine state as she ran her fingers over the cover, tracing the letters “The Book of Time.”

  “You may rise, James Von Berkshire!”

  James didn’t realize he was on his knees; it was as if his body had moved instinctively in the sight of a higher being.

  TIME opened her book and flipped through it until she found the page she was looking for.

  “Let’s get you back to the past, James, and make things right.”