Fixing Future

*This story is for the prompt of the character finding their name on an object, and somewhat includes this prompt*

My steps came to a halt on the steep hillside. Grudgingly, I forced myself to keep trudging. Something had needed me here and I needed to find out what, before I slipped back to the present. I could already feel the sliding sensation that came when I was about to be pulled back. I willed myself into a jog, needing to reach the summit sooner. 

The mist was thick around me and could almost see the droplets suspended in the air, clinging to whatever brushed past them. I should be sopping wet right now, given the heavy moisture in the air, but I was perfectly dry and untouched by the creeping fog. As I should be, for one would actually have to be in this dreary weather to be affected.

My should-be mud caked boots were pristine, absent of any trace of the foul sludge underfoot. 

After a seemingly endless climb, the hill leveled out, the tip of it just barely breaching the fog layer. The summit was agonizingly bare, for I had hoped of finding clues to why I had been summoned here. A solitary willow tree, absent of any leaves to hint of life, was standing sentinel over a lone rock as it stood crumbling, and so covered in grass and lichen, it took me a moment to decipher the headstone that it was.

“What a dreadful place for a grave,” I thought aloud, for there was no one to hear my criticism. “Too big of a climb to mourn only one soul.”

Still unknowing of the purpose for which I had come, I glided over to the headstone, never being so grateful for a flat plane to walk on. The name, almost nonexistent, read ‘Ciara Maybel Baxter.’ 

I clutched my heart, stumbling backwards, and collapsing onto a heap of mud and over watered weeds.

Surely I had misread it, or- possibly this was a different Ciara Maybel Baxter. There had to be plenty… 

I scrambled off the wet earth and reread the headstone. Same name. My name.

I read the date of birth. March 13, 1997. That was my birthday. 

The time of death read, January 19, 2022.

The day I came from. Today was January 19, 2022.

“Gosh, what year am I in?” I wondered aloud. I’d forgotten to ask before I had crossed, because this headstone appeared to have been here for a century.

The present was calling, I felt myself slipping away, still without a single clue as to why I got to see my death date. Normally things like that were extremely forbidden. Before I could finish my train of thought, I was sucked back to the present.

I was sitting in a plush velvet armchair, across from Austin who had plopped down onto an old moth-eaten cushion.

“What was there?” he asked nonchalantly, same as he had always done after he’d brought me back to the present time.

Enraged with his so casual response, I snapped back, “I can’t believe you’d be so reckless as to let me see something like that you little-”

“Woah, easy there! Wouldn’t want your pretty little mind to be mucked up with naughty words,” he remarked, flashing that stupidly gorgeous smile of his.

I leapt out of the comfy armchair, teetering over him, still slouched on his ratty couch. My fists were clenched, as I tried to sound menacing however, I ended up sounding more like a reprimanding parent.

“Where you sent me was stupid and reckless! Not to mention how many seer laws you broke- If the Synod hears of this…” my voice trailed off, as my thoughts went to the horrible things that happened to those who broke the seer laws.

“Well, I suppose we better not let them hear,” Austin said, sounding a bit agitated himself. “But it would help if you wouldn’t mind telling me where I bloody sent you!”

I couldn’t help myself from grinning. Austin was awfully cute when he got angry. But instead of telling him this, I told him what had happened.

Austin’s face paled as I told him the location he had sent me to. “Ciara- I’m sorry, I can’t imagine how awful that must’ve been…” 

“But more importantly, why do you suppose you felt summoned to send me there?” I asked.

Austin paused, slowly considering his words. “I think it’s supposed to be a warning.” 

“Thank you for that lovely insight. I’m supposed to die today! Obviously that's a warning!” I cried, feeling as though I were about to faint.

“Would you like me to send you to an earlier future for more answers?” he asked, trying, but to no avail, to remain calm.

I slumped down onto the moth-eaten sofa, next to Austin. “No, I think we’ve tampered enough with the seer rules for today,” I sighed, covering my face with my hands.

Austin curled his arm around my shoulders, pulling me into a gentle embrace.

I let myself sit there for a few moments before shrugging off Austin’s arm.

We needed to figure out how to prevent me from dying today, and preferably not anytime in the foreseeable future.

“I’m going to make some tea, fancy a cuppa?” he asked, standing up.

“I found out I’m going to die today and you're asking me if I want a bloody cuppa!” I exclaimed incredulously.

“I find tea soothing and it helps me think!” he justified, waltzing into the small kitchenette.

I couldn’t argue with that. “If you don’t mind, I’ll have one too then,”

After a nice warm cup of Austin’s herbal blend, we decided the best thing to do was visit a nearby future, as Austin felt another one calling to him.

“Ready Ciara?” he asked, grabbing my hands, as he prepared to send me to another future. 

This was his gift. He could feel what future was useful, and send someone else there. I have always been that ‘someone else’, leaping from one future to the next, to interpret it and prevent catastrophes back in the present.

I felt flattered at being one of these ‘catastrophes.’

One trip to the future later, I came back with a strong resolve to never visit the North Shore Cliffs.

“That wasn’t so hard to prevent!” Austin exclaimed.

“But please, let's never vacation in North Shore,” I teased, a futile attempt at calming my rigid nerves. Viewing one's death is not very good (as I can imagine) on one’s soul.

“Well, I’m certainly glad you are not dead,” Austin declared, grinning and pulling me into a quick kiss.