The Time Travelers

By Kaitlyn Carter Brown

Light burst across the room, exploding in a shower of sparks.

Chaimon lowered his pen and glanced up from the treaty spread across his desk. Ah, he’s back.

When the sparks faded, a familiar figure materialized. Dressed in a black coat and matching fedora, his outfit looked out of place in the castle’s study where Chaimon’s sword collection covered the stone walls. Then again, a time traveler couldn’t help obscurity.

“Ashton Benedict,” Chaimon huffed. “Where have you been?”

His friend chuckled, approaching the desk. “No, Chaimon, when have I been.”

Chaimon rolled his eyes.

He’d once thought himself the only time traveler—until he found Ashton after accidentally hurtling himself centuries into the past. Ashton could only move forward, complementing Chaimon’s ability to only move backwards. Thus they forged a fortuitous friendship.

“I thought we were supposed to work together.” Chaimon pulled a journal from the desk’s top drawer and flipped to the last entry. “Stay in the same time. Keep our lives somewhat linear. You’ve missed a month.”

Theirs wasn’t an easy power to master. Oftentimes, it just happened—and as the only two known time travelers, well, the gig came with a steep learning curve.

Ashton pulled a chair up beside Chaimon’s desk and procured a matching journal from his pocket. “I know, I know. But I discovered a secret—the ambassador from Dovern is going to be assassinated!”

“Aye, last week, my friend.” Chaimon raised an eyebrow. “The murderer has already been caught, tried, and executed.”

“Well, they got the wrong man.”

“How do you know? You weren’t even here.”

The pages of Ashton’s journal fluttered. “I’d been investigating. You know there’s been bloody skirmishes all over the Dovern border? If the ambassador’s dead, well, it might lead to worse.”

“Aye, Ashton, I’m a politician. I’m paid to know that. Maybe you should learn about the era in which you live.”

Chaimon didn’t mean to reprimand. They both possessed complicated powers, and their arrangement prompted Ashton to decide to adopt Chaimon’s era, but thus far, his adaptation skills were lacking.

“Sorry,” Chaimon grumbled. “But one can’t live skipping time. There is value in each and every moment.” Something I’ve been trying desperately to teach him.

“It’s okay.” Ashton shrugged, tossing his hat onto the desk. “Anyways, I was hoping we might investigate. Without the ambassador, I’m sure things are messy.”

Of course. Why else would Ashton appear brimming with speculation? Another mystery. Another adventure. And Chaimon could never resist.

“You’re right about that.” He clasped his friend’s shoulder. “But promise me that you’ll return me forward—to this moment.”

Ashton raised an eyebrow. “You’re a time traveler, Chaimon. This moment is quite relative.”

“Promise, Ashton.” Chaimon narrowed his eyes.

Plopping his hat back onto his head, Ashton dipped his chin.

One flash of light later, Chaimon’s powers vaulted them into the past. One week. One chance to rewrite time.

They landed in a courtyard. A tall citadel rose before them, its stonework covered with intricate carvings. Chaimon smiled. This was his world. A world of interlocking pieces, serving the parliament that made the empire function like clockwork.

“This is the Citadel of Justice, right?” Ashton tilted his head up to gaze at the towering spires.

“Aye, where Bendura will be tried in two days’ time for the murder of Ambassador Konai—which will occur today.” Chaimon frowned. “How do you know Bendura is innocent?”

“The man’s a baron from the borderlands, near Dovern. He’s the perfect man to frame.”

Chaimon sighed. “Then who really killed him?”

Ashton marched toward the citadel. “I’ll show you.”

Inside, the two men hurried down a corridor, one typically reserved for servants. They ascended a stairwell, leading to a small balcony overlooking the grand congressional chamber. Down below, parliament was in session.

“Where were you for this meeting?” Ashton whispered.

Chaimon scowled. “At home.”

“You missed the murder?”

In favor of something more important. Chaimon folded his arms. “What were you doing here, anyways?”

His friend’s features softened. “I am trying, Chaimon. I thought listening to parliament would be a good way to learn about your era. But look, over there.”

Squinting, Chaimon peered across the chamber, to another viewing balcony. Bendura stood with several other barons, all giving hearty applause to the measure parliament ratified down below.

“The land disputes are being settled.” Chaimon spoke softly, understanding dawning like the sun. “Bendura’s land gains stability from this measure.”

Ashton nodded, pointing. “Yes, but that man wants Bendura’s land. He’s from Dovern, isn’t he? If there’s no more fighting…”

At that moment, both Bendura and the Dovern man left the balcony. Chaimon glanced at the ambassador down below, who would be murdered in minutes.

“Konai was murdered by one of his own?” Now they came to it. The moment of decision. “Do we stop the murder or convict the correct man?”

The weight of knowing was heavy. Chaimon despised it. But this burden wasn’t his to bear alone. A friend stood by his side—a friend who knew his struggles better than most. Another who saw time differently.

Ashton looked at him, a lopsided grin on his face and his ridiculous hat on his head. “We’re here, aren’t we? Because we’re here, nobody has to die.”

As promised, Ashton returned Chaimon to the present, where Chaimon’s treaty still lay on his desk.

It might not be necessary. After all, we stopped the Dovern man from assaulting and framing Bendura and saved the ambassador’s life. Things might have changed—slightly.

A new world. One they had created for the better—hopefully.

“Chaimon? Is that you?” A voice called from outside the study.

Smiling, he approached the door. There, his lovely wife stood, holding their newborn infant. “Aye, I’m here.” He took the babe in his arms, and glanced back at the time traveler. “Some moments are too precious to miss.”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Kaitlyn Carter Brown, an avid reader and book lover, wrote her first book at age 11 and has been in love with writing ever since. She resides in California, is involved with local writers’ groups, and loves to travel, searching for inspiration.

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