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 Category:  General Fiction
  Posted: May 25, 2020      Views: 19
Chapters:
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 ABOUT
SEFIROS 

Sefiros is my alias; my real name is Michael Wolff. I am thirty-two years old. I've been writing the same story for twenty-odd years, adding more and more content as the years and influences came and went. However, the latest version of the "the - more...

He is an accomplished novelist and is currently at the #52 spot on the rankings.

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Chapter 46 of the book Sefiros Eishi - Timelines
Waking up after a fight
"Imprisoned" by Sefiros

SUMMARY

Mykel LeKym is a crippled librarian living on a quasi-medieval world. He is caught up in a time travel conspiracy where he is continually thrown back in time and is forced to relive the same events over and over (albeit with the events being slightly altered with each repetition). This chapter takes place after Mykel confesses to his prostitute lover Caryl that he has slept with a female ranger by the name Catherine, and is destroyed by Caryl's uncaring reply. This chapter deals with the aftermath of Mykel starting a fight in Caryl's brothel.

P.S. Lazarus is Mykel's godfather and guardian.

CHAPTER

Mykel felt like a scarecrow upon waking. His muscles were gone, his throat felt full of sand, and nausea threatened to dry-heave his lungs. Focusing on details slowed the nausea. By the slanted stones of the floor, Mykel estimated the design to be that of the 6th or the 7th Dynasty of Heron. No, the ceiling was a little too large for that. The 8th Century, he decided. Midway through the century if the maze of wooden beams was proof. A prison cell, then. Another one. Mykel grimaced. At least things can't get any worse.

A stone clicked against a boot. He looked up and groaned. I'm wrong. It's worse.

"Two days." Lazarus was a crimson tower, topped with the augurs that drilled holes in the souls of even the most pious men. "Two days. I leave you alone for two days, and you land in prison." The guards chuckled . . . and then rushed with the keys as Lazarus' glare froze the laughter in their throats. The librarian pushed himself to his feet . . . only to crumple to the floor. Lazarus had to act as a crutch to Mykel's feeble pace. It was made all the worse by snickers and whispers among the other prisoners. I'm free, you bastards. I'm free and you're not.

Then Mykel felt Lazarus' hand slap the back of his head. "I thought . . ." Mykel refused to touch the burn. "I thought we agreed you wouldn't do that."

"Only when you don't act like a loon. Do you know that man's in an infirmary right now? It will be a miracle if he ever wakes up."

"He deserved it."

Another head-slap. "Your father would be ashamed of you. Hell, I'm ashamed of you."

"I don't know what happened. He was looking at Caryl --"

"I know what he was doing. That's why men go to brothels."

"He called her a peacock princess! He bragged about her!"

"Another thing men do in brothels."

Mykel shook his head. I've better luck talking to a wall. Then he looked up and blinked. "This isn't the way to the library."

"Very perceptive of you."

"No . . . this is . . . the Red Boar inn! We're going to meet Robert Jekai!"

Lazarus wheeled on him. "How did you know that?"

Mykel frowned. "This . . . this is where we went the last time. The Red Boar inn. He runs the place. He served with the Mageslayer . . ." Thoughts rose like bubbles from a moist swamp, dirty and thick of stench. "The coffin! He has Shayna!"

Lazarus grumbled as he pushed Mykel along. Fool boy . . . Can't shut up . . . doesn't know things from a hole in the ground . . . going to be the death of me . . . Mykel smiled queasily. "Am I drunk?"

"No, you fool. You just haven't eaten anything in two days."

Mykel nodded. "I'm famished."

"Good for you."

Then the Red Boar Inn rose before them, a stronghold of red-stone shingles and layered brick.

An assault of sound struck Mykel so hard he felt his bones shiver. He walked to the bar and watched Lazarus converse with a stout-looking girl, and then disappeared into a turn. Into a staircase leading downward, Mykel thought. To a grizzled old man.

A wooden bowl plopped in front of him, a horn spoon sticking out like a feather jutting from a jaunty hat. Mykel breathed in that meaty, husky stew and started when he found himself staring back at an empty bowl. And his chin dripping of broth. He looked up at the stout-looking girl and smiled at the way her eyes bulged. "Can I have another?"

"Sure." She looked like she was suddenly cornered by a jackal. Every scoop of her spoon was paired with unblinking eyes.

Afraid of me, Mykel realized.

"Have you worked here long?"

"Thirteen years."

"Then you'd know the innkeeper."

A touch of exasperation entered her voice. "Again, for thirteen years."

"No, not the old man. I mean the young one. Cherry-haired, looks like you."

Her eyes narrowed, and Mykel found himself with a face-full of soup. He wrenched the bowl off his face. "What the hell --"

"My brother died three years ago, bastard!" The thunder was in her eyes, and in the bung-starter gripped in her giant fist. Mykel waited for the hammer to fall --

Only it didn't. A familiar black glove wrapped around the girl's wrist, followed by an equally familiar Lazarus. The two exchanged whispers as if they were blood-kin, and the stout-looking girl's arm dropped like a weed.

"Come on, lad." Lazarus darted his head like a falcon, pointing the way. Mykel moved as if he were walking through a nest of cobras; he didn't even breathe until the next turn blocked the stout-looking girl's seething eyes.

"What was that about? I saw the cherry-headed innkeeper. I remember --"

"Things are different, lad. Her brother Marlowe died from a stomach flu."

"Different? Different? I'm not imagining things --"

"Today you are," Lazarus countered. They'd reached the back room, to an opening in the floor with a creaky-looking staircase opening crackling with lantern fires. "Today . . . you don't know how dangerous you are. So keep your mouth shut." Lazarus descended the stairs.

Mykel paused, sifting through memories. I'm not dreaming. A cherry-haired lad was working the bar. It was after Catherine saved us from the Mageslayer . . . Suddenly a pulse of pain left Mykel fumbling against the wall. Mageslayer? Catherine? When did she . . . Details slipped by like sands in an hourglass. What's happening to me?

A man he didn't know waited for him on the bottom step. Definitely not the bartender's father. The bartender was cherry-haired -- I know he was real -- and this one's head was slowly surrendering to gray. The eyes and nose were wrong, too. But he radiated a commanding aura, even if he didn't have the body for it. Mykel smiled. "Lord Jekai."

The grizzled old man blinked. "How . . ."

"Uncle --" A familiar voice cut Jekai's question in half, followed by a familiar blonde head and familiar crystalline blue eyes. "You still --"

Mykel felt the silence smother him. "Catherine."

The book continues with Same Meeting, Unexpected Guest. We will provide a link to it when you review this below.
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