It raised a gossamer hand, time warping around them. Lyra faltered, Zephyr gasped, Kael roared, but they were all dragged backwards, away from their goal. Their journey became a dance, a deadly tango with time itself.
They fought, fled, hid, and experienced different scary challenges.
In the respite between battles, Lyra found herself in a small, seemingly forgotten chamber.
The Timekeeper snarled, lunging. But Arin was ready, throwing up a hand. Time stuttered, reformed, as he leaped forward, sword in hand. Their blades met, reality echoed, and the Timekeeper... stumbled. Arin pressed his advantage, driving them back until the Timekeeper stood against the wall, its form flickering.
She finally found the way out and returned to her group. Her friends were proud of her but they did not know keeptimer was not dead, but had pretended to be dead.
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