Fred Adjusts Poorly

Lord Frederigo considered this a rather irrelevant question, considering that he'd been pulled out of his home into a completely alien place to perform some mission that no one had told him about yet. "I--What kind of question is that, by Qrom?" He realized that she seemed surprised, as if she'd never heard the name Qrom before. This was not too surprising, as she came from such a distant land, yet it disconcerted him somehow.

"Trust me, it's important," said Eleanor, in a tone that couldn't avoid being a bit patronizing. "If I asked you to define time, how would you do it?"

Frederigo grumbled and shifted, but he realized that he wouldn't get anything useful out of this woman unless he answered her silly question. "Time is... It's... Time passes too quickly, taking away all our earthly joys," he said. That was something his father once said to him when he was younger, and he'd never quite believed in it. He had just seemed like a typical old man trying to suck the joy out of youthful passion. Then, he'd been brought here. He had somehow become lost from time and ended up in the future, like Oisinn. He felt a sense of displacement that troubled and angered him. He now felt that he had a better understanding, in a way, of what it was to be displaced in time, as old men were.

"Does time always fly away quickly?"

Fred was about to say yes, but then remembered the time a few weeks ago when he'd been forced to sit alongside his father in some stupid territorial dispute. "Sometimes it does, but sometimes it drags on like...a... It drags on when you want it to move and gallops when you want it to slow down, like a horse possessed by a demon. I am speaking from experience, by the way."

"So you admit that time can move in different ways? Or rather, that you can move through time in different ways?"

"I--it would seem so. Why can't you just explain what's going on?"

"Because it's extremely complicated. I need to know how much you understand."

"All right. What do you mean when you said that I am moving through time?"

"Motion, like time, is relative. For instance, if someone is passing a village on a horse, the village is also moving in relation to him. The same is true of time. Now tell me, what is the nature of history?"

"History is... It's... It is the story of the past, I suppose."

"But doesn't history include the future as well?"

"I--I don't know. What is it that I'm supposed to be here for?"

"What do you understand about fate?"

Fred sighed. This was a much more straightforward question. "Fate is the enemy that no man can defeat. It is our duty to face it as bravely as we can."

"But you do think that your actions would have some impact on the world around you, which is why you do your deeds of heroism?"

"Well, yes, but--"

Eleanor began breathing deeply. She was rapidly losing her patience, as was Fred. Melissa still stood on the sidelines nervously, wishing she could say something but not sure what would be the right thing to say. "Frederigo," said Eleanor at last, "time, fate, history is not prison. It is a harmony, conducted by a power outside of ourselves, but in which we are the instruments. But someone has found a way to disrupt time for his own ends. History is beginning to double back on itself and to collide with other histories and things that shouldn't be. Stephen--the most powerful sorceror remaining on this world--and I have noticed this for several years and been investigating it. A few months ago, he apparently found the answer. He appeared to me on the astral plane and told me that he would leave to battle this enemy, but could only delay them. To defeat them, we would need a true Dragonslayer from this world's true history. Then, he vanished into the timestream. He may be dead by now." Fred saw an odd sadness cloud her lovely but cold blue eyes. "There have been no dragons, good or evil, on the earth for thousands of years. We could not find anyone living who had the knowledge and training of a Dragonslayer, or even had very much knowledge of dragons. So Melissa ended up summoning you here."

"This doesn't make any sense!" said Frederigo, enraged. "Obviously this is all some sort of illusion. Return me to my quest at once!"

"You will be returned to your quest, but you have other duties to fulfil first," said Eleanor.

"You must be lying. Now that so much time has passed, how can I be returned? I'm leaving this prison at once!"

"I wouldn't try that," said Eleanor, almost gleefully. "You are over ten thousand years in the future. The world you knew is only remembered by a very few. No one worships your gods anymore or has even heard of them."

"That must be a lie!" shouted Frederigo. Then he glanced out the window.

He was in a building that towered over several roads of stone surrounding some black thing that seemed to be some kind or road itself, but like none he'd ever seen. Along the road crawled things that looked like small beetles, which people were walking in and out of. He realized that these must be vehicles of some sort, but there was nothing drawing them. Then, he looked upward to the skyline. Great glass and steel towers reached up to the sky in the distance, taller than the greatest cathedral, taller then he could even imagination. Dizzy and overwhelmed, he fell to the ground instantly. And Melissa looked on all the while, chewing her fingernails, puzzled and concerned.

Eleanor sighed. "Perhaps this was not a good idea, although I will admit that I couldn't think of a better one."

"So what do you suggest I do now?" said Melissa.

"You will watch over him, attend to him, and help him to adjust to this world. I have business to take care of elsewhere." And with that, she left the room icily, just before Melissa could respond. She looked down at Fred and shook her head. She definitely had her work cut out for her...

1. Hours later, Fred comes to.

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