Chapter 28 – Klesha
To the people of the twenty-first century, the idea of rewriting history through time travel was already a worn-out cliché. In the ancient world, however, no one had ever conceived of such a thing.
The sage was no exception.
The modern notion of “time travel” only took concrete shape after H. G. Wells published The Time Machine in the nineteenth century. Until then, a person might regret an act and wish it had never happened, yet few ever imagined actually returning to the past. To them, time was an absolute current that could neither be halted nor reversed.
That did not mean the ancients were fools. Even though they were genetically the same “humanity,” their entire worldview simply differed from age to age.
The sage let out a soft gasp of wonder at an idea he had never once considered. It was as if an invisible fog had been blocking his thoughts until mere moments ago.
“Well, that should be enough for now, don’t you think?”
Kali turned her back without the slightest hesitation.
“…You’re simply leaving like this?”
“Any further interference would only get messy. All I needed to do was provide the spark.”
“…”
“Even if you doubt me, what can you do about it? Threaten me?”
The sage gave no answer. It was not a silence of agreement. He simply could not decide how to act, and so no words came.
“Then I’m off.”
Kali departed. The sage turned away even before she vanished from sight. Something about the woman left an uneasy residue.
“‘Go back to the past and change the present’… What a fascinating notion.”
Nearby, Enki voiced pure admiration for the theory Kali had just shared. Of course the idea was riddled with holes and largely nonsense, yet he felt its sheer creativity deserved respect.
“What’s so amazing about it?”
Inanna, by contrast, sounded thoroughly unimpressed. Having already heard every sort of tale from Sunya, the concept of time travel no longer struck her as particularly special.
“Of course it’s amazing. It’s a concept that simply cannot exist in this era.”
The reply did not come from Enki. Before either of them noticed, Kali had slipped between them and spoken.
“What?”
“!!”
Startled, Inanna and Enki instinctively backed away and scanned their surroundings.
“I was talking to you two. Immigrants of Kienkingir.”
Kali deliberately named their origin so they would not leap to any wild misunderstanding.
“How…?”
“Who the hell are you? You can see us?”
While Enki reeled from the unexpected development, Inanna demanded answers. She even drew her spear and settled into a combat stance.
“Of course~ I can see you just fiiine~.”
“This… doesn’t make sense.”
The magic Enki employed to view the past merely read the records engraved upon a soul. In twenty-first-century terms, it was little different from watching a vivid film or drama. From Enki’s perspective, it was as if a character inside the movie had suddenly noticed the audience and begun speaking directly to them.
“Our dear Enki, the ignorant god of wisdom… still living inside your little delusion, aren’t you? The delusion that you understand every principle of every world. Looking at a single fragment and swaggering about as if you grasp the whole… truly, what a comedy.”
Enki did not know the word “comedy,” yet he understood exactly what the being called Kali meant. Inanna, who had heard the term from Sunya, felt her wariness spike far higher than Enki’s.
Did she come from the future like Sunya? No—more importantly, how does she know about Grandpa Enki?
Sensing her hostility, Kali offered her characteristic smile and tried to soothe Inanna—or at least pretended to.
“No need to be so wary. Being wary won’t change a thing. The me standing here is nothing more than a ‘record.’ I can perceive you, but I cannot interfere. So relax, you tomboy goddess Inanna.”
“…”
She knows me. How?
Inanna was every bit as confused as Enki. Yet simply turning the matter over in her head did not suit a goddess’s temperament.
“Who are you? How do you know about me?”
“Because I’ve watched countless Enkis and Inannas. Gods like you always appear no matter how many times the universe repeats itself. Your faces never fade from memory.”
“You’ve watched us?”
“Hmm. Maybe this will help Enki recognize me.”
Kali brought a hand to her face. When she lowered it again, her features had changed. Inanna still saw a stranger, yet the pure horror flooding Enki’s expression made it clear the two knew each other well.
A moment later Kali restored her original face, but Enki’s shock showed no sign of easing.
“Tiamat…”
Enki spoke the name of a certain goddess. Fortunately Inanna had at least heard of Tiamat.
“You, whose limbs were torn apart and whose consciousness should no longer exist… why are you here? This place isn’t even Kienkingir—it’s an entirely different world.”
“Kukuk! Watching you panic is honestly hilarious!”
“Don’t change the subject! Why are you here?”
“Mmm, what to do? Since you’ve come this far, I suppose I can tell you a little.”
The words that followed from Kali—or rather Tiamat—completely overturned every expectation.
“There is at least one ‘me’ in every world. And each of those ‘mes’ can share memories with the others. The ‘me’ your precious son Marduk killed—personally I dislike that phrasing, but I’ll let it stand for now—was merely one among many.”
“…”
Enki was startled, yet as the god of wisdom he grasped the explanation without difficulty. Doubts still remained, of course. How had Kali known about Inanna, who was born long after her death? How could a mere record inside a fictional world possess such self-awareness and move freely? Yet he sensed that asking would yield no answers. Dangling only a fragment of the whole and leaving the listener craving more was her specialty.
“All right, I’ve spoken, so now it’s your turn. Why go to the trouble of inventing this magic just to peek into this fellow’s past?”
The moment he heard the question, a suspicion flickered through Enki’s mind.
This woman… does she not know about Inanna and Sunya’s relationship?
The intuition felt strangely certain. He decided to cast a line.
“Why do you think we came?”
“Oh-ho?”
Kali’s smile turned chilling. Even with a different face, that peculiar grin that stretched her lips all the way to her ears remained exactly the same.
“If my guess is right, a failed time-travel attempt flung him into Kienkingir. Then something went wrong between you and him. I never expected you’d be able to subdue him, though.”
Subdue? Why does she think we subdued him?
“You’re under a misconception. We obtained mutual consent. I’m not the sort of scoundrel who digs through someone else’s past on a whim.”
“You obtained consent?”
Kali tilted her head, wearing an expression of pure incomprehension.
“That can’t be.”
“And why would you think that?”
“You saw the sage’s past yourself, didn’t you? Why would he willingly show something so disadvantageous?”
“…”
It seemed Enki’s earlier suspicion had been correct. Of course, as the only god capable of lying, she could not be trusted completely—yet even allowing for that, he saw no reason for her to feign ignorance in this situation.
Her ability to act with self-awareness here is astonishing, yet the range she can observe still has limits.
As if to drive the nail home, Inanna chose that moment to toss a question of her own.
“Hey, auntie—do you know me?”
“A-auntie?”
Unexpectedly, Kali bristled at the word.
“Listen carefully, little miss. I hate being called ‘auntie.’ No particular reason. I just hate it, so don’t.”
“…Fine, just answer already. If you’re Tiamat, you died before I was even born. Even if you can share memories, there’s no way a version of you from after your death would know anything about me.”
“Heh-heh. Little one, I know far more than you think. I know you’re the daughter of Nanna and Ningal, and that you married the shepherd-god Dumuzi. For the record, Dumuzi is not a good husband—just so you know. You’ll divorce him anyway.”
“…Thanks for the advice, auntie.”
“Again with the aun—! Haaah, no. No need to rise to a half-dried brat’s bait.”
Inanna kept a perfectly straight face while deliberately needling Kali, steering her thoughts away from more dangerous territory. The cunning was unmistakable.
Sly little fox.
Some gods treated Inanna as a fool, yet she was neither stupid nor lacking in intuition. On the contrary, her instincts were sharp and her mind quick. When she charged ahead without regard for others, it was usually because she had already judged the risk acceptable. In the past she had occasionally overreached or grown greedy and made mistakes, but after formally marrying Sunya those habits had vanished.
She doesn’t truly know Inanna. I have no idea why she holds such outdated information, but one thing is certain: she can no longer observe Kienkingir.
The Kali of Kienkingir—Tiamat—was unquestionably without consciousness. Had she still been aware, she would have known that Sunya and Inanna were married, and she would not have remained ignorant of the more than twenty children born between them.
“…No. Something about your reactions feels off.”
Yet Enki and Inanna had also underestimated Kali. Her intuition rarely missed its mark.
“I was wrong, wasn’t I? I’m not sure of the details, but the little miss never married that shepherd boy. Something went sideways—whatever the cause. And the sage was involved, directly or indirectly.”
“Who knows?”
“Right—you can’t say no. You gods are born unable to lie.”
Having said that much, Kali began to laugh in a thoroughly unpleasant way.
“Kikikikikikikikik! Kugigigigigigigig!”
Why did she have to laugh like that? Inanna frowned, but Enki watched her with calm, familiar eyes.
“Yes! That was it! Fate itself has changed!! Things are getting truly interesting!”
Kali now laughed outright, cackling like a madwoman. Watching her, Inanna asked Enki,
“Was she always this crazy?”
“Yeah. She’s always been a crazy bitch.”