However, Sylas knew that in Valinor, such weapons would likely be of limited use. He stored the time bombs away for the time being.
After finishing his work with the low-grade time sand, Sylas finally turned his full attention back to the Time-Turner.
He carefully stored two of the three completed devices, then attached the remaining one to a chain around his neck. Stepping out of the chamber, he gently rotated the outer ring, setting the dial to one hour.
Even though he was confident in his craftsmanship, Sylas chose to test the Time-Turner with extreme caution. After all, this involved the most mysterious force in existence, time itself. Even at his current level, it was not something to be treated lightly.
The moment he activated it, the concentric rings at the center began to rotate rapidly, and the hourglass disc spun in place.
In an instant, Sylas felt a layer of temporal power descend upon him, wrapping around his body and separating him from the present world.
The surroundings began to reverse at breathtaking speed.
For a fleeting moment, Sylas felt as though he had fallen into a vast river.
The River of Time.
Endless. Irreversible. Flowing inexorably forward.
With the aid of the Time-Turner, Sylas was like a tiny fragment of foam drifting upstream, moving against the current, yet never truly escaping it.
This defiance was temporary.
At most, the Time-Turner allowed a reversal of five hours per day. Any attempt to exceed that limit would cause the device to collapse under the overwhelming pressure of the time stream, just as fragile foam would be torn apart in a raging river.
Chaos would follow.
Unpredictable, catastrophic chaos.
Moreover, even after returning to the past, the user remained no more than an observer. Interfering with past events would invite a violent temporal backlash, possibly erasing the user's very existence from the flow of time.
Sylas had never intended to change the past.
His purpose was insight.
Yet when the reversal completed, disappointment flickered across his face.
The temporal regression had lasted less than a second.
The world stabilized almost immediately.
There was no time, no opportunity, to comprehend anything meaningful.
Still, this failure filled him not with frustration, but with hope.
Just as he had expected, during that infinitesimal instant of reversal, the surrounding time power had surged to an astonishing density. Through his spiritual perception, Sylas had even faintly sensed the outline of the River of Time itself.
Brief, but real.
It was enough.
With a wave of his staff, glowing runes appeared in the air, confirming the result.
He had returned exactly one hour into the past.
Sylas glanced toward the office door, now tightly shut. He knew his past self was inside, but he had no intention of disturbing the timeline.
Satisfied that the Time-Turner functioned correctly, Sylas activated it again.
This time, he set it to four hours.
The world reversed once more.
As the temporal flow intensified, Sylas extended his spiritual power through the Time-Turner's protective range, attempting to sense the movement of time beyond himself.
And then;
The River of Time revealed itself again.
Sylas's eyes widened as he strained to perceive its structure and laws. His spiritual power, once intangible and absolute, now trembled under the invisible pressure of time itself, on the verge of collapse.
Even spiritual force could not resist time's erosion.
His face turned pale.
Pain surged through his mind.
Yet Sylas clenched his teeth and persisted, forcing his consciousness to endure as he tried to grasp the rules governing time.
Just as his spiritual power reached its limit, on the brink of complete exhaustion, the reversal ended.
The world snapped back into stillness.
Sylas staggered slightly, his expression filled with lingering shock and despair.
Sweat poured down his face. His complexion was deathly pale, his mouth open as he gasped for air, his mental energy completely drained. He looked utterly exhausted.
But Sylas had no time to dwell on that.
He had discovered something crucial.
This time, the reversal had lasted slightly longer than before, about four seconds.
That meant the process was not random.
The time-reversal duration corresponded directly to the amount of time rewound.
For every one hour reversed, the moment of exposure to the River of Time extended by one second.
In other words, a single Time-Turner, capable of rewinding up to five hours, could grant Sylas a maximum of five seconds of direct contact with the River of Time each day.
And those seconds were everything.
This fleeting process was not a flaw, it was the very foundation of Sylas's comprehension of time.
Time itself was vague, intangible, and fundamentally inaccessible to ordinary beings. Even powerful mages could only observe its effects, never its essence.
Yet Sylas could touch it.
Through the Time-Turner, he could briefly sense the existence of the River of Time itself.
That alone was an unparalleled advantage.
Given enough repetition, enough accumulation, Sylas was certain he would gain immeasurable insight.
Carefully, he put away the Time-Turner, now temporarily unusable.
This artifact was his key, the flawless key to understanding time.
He possessed three Time-Turners, meaning he could experience up to fifteen seconds of temporal exposure per day.
At first, Sylas had considered gifting one to Gandalf or the others.
But after careful thought, he abandoned the idea.
He himself did not have enough time, how could he afford to give such an opportunity to anyone else?
More importantly, the power of time was too tempting.
If he could comprehend time through a Time-Turner, then others could as well.
If word spread that Sylas had created artifacts capable of perceiving the laws of time, then even beings like Nienna, or perhaps even the Valar themselves, would not ignore such a thing.
The temptation was too great.
For those at the pinnacle of power, mastering time might mean ascending further, or expanding their own divine authority.
That was something Sylas could not allow.
Until he truly comprehended time, the Time-Turner's deeper function had to remain absolutely secret.
He alone would hold this power.
After rewinding a total of five hours, the sand within the hourglass had noticeably dimmed. It would require twenty-four hours to restore its temporal charge before it could be used again.
Sylas placed the Time-Turner back into his pocket, but did not take out another.
During those brief four seconds of observation, his mental energy had been completely exhausted. He simply did not have the strength to continue.
For now, recovery took priority.
He glanced toward the office door, knowing that his past self was still inside from six hours earlier. He had no intention of disturbing the timeline.
With a casual wave of his hand, Sylas conjured a comfortable reclining chair. He lay back upon it, gazing toward Swan Harbor and the distant sea, his eyes half-closed, slowly drifting into rest.
Swan Harbor was peaceful and beautiful.
The Thalassian elves sang lively folk songs as they guided swan-shaped boats across the clear waters, fishing or gliding between the docks. Some ventured toward the luminous Pearl Shoals of the eastern seabed; others sailed southeast toward Thor Island.
Sylas considered his options.
Before he truly grasped the power of time, remaining in Swan Harbor was the safest choice.
It was far from the cities of the Valar, distant from their gaze, and he lacked the foundation to stand before them as an equal.
For now, he did not wish to meet those supreme beings.
Nor had he decided whose path, if any, he would walk.
That choice would shape his future.
...
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