"I apologize for not being used to gods showing up and slapping me in the face." Lang apologized, her eyes flashing back. "Usually when gods appear to people, they expect whoever they are speaking to be servile." She snapped, gaining steam again. "And what, sir, am I supposed to do with this?" She added. "So I am this anomaly. So what?"

"The most likely 'so what' in this case is that you may experience flashbacks of events that should be happening to you," he replied. "Morgan knows the risk and might be able to prepare himself. Seth is a child; they're very adaptable. Maitiu is already living partway in the past; he might not even notice any difference. But you likely will."

"But you also just told me that I was dead." Lang countered, looking confused. "So how am I to even have flashbacks of things I am supposed to be doing?" She asked, scrutinzing him. "What else?"

"Precisely," he said, with a dry look. "Try flashing back to a state of non-existence some time. I am trying to give you some foreshadowing. There is about to be a small pre-scheduled time-related incident. It might be enough to tip the balance."

Lang simply just stared at him, now simply irritated. "Tip the balance into fixing this, or tip the balance into having such a flashback?" She asked, with a huff. "Ja, thank you, when I think I do not exist I will realize why I am thinking I do not exist. That is it? There is no way to correct it?"

"I am about ninety per cent positive that another time disruption inflicted on sentient persons who have already dealt with one such disruption will trigger the flashback effect," he said. "I have no idea if it will be temporary or permanent. I'll know after I see what it does to you lot, of course."

"Wonderful." Lang said with false cheer, looking like she was on the verge of crying or screaming. "I do mention to you at you are a time god, and thus could go forward and find out, or could have prevented this from happening." She gave him a hard look.

"What I cannot understand is why you angry with me, Grey-god." Lang told him. "What was I supposed to do once I found out where he was, and why he was there? Shrug, and leave with Judith, leaving him to his fate? Let his boy think this father had abandoned him?" She said, finding her anger again. "What was I supposed to do! Tell me!"

He sighed and gestured her to follow him. "Walk with me."

As he started along, he pulled off his glove and trailed a hand along the wall. His fingers left a long bright path, the stone flaking and curling back to its original near-white. The further he went, the more the castle walls echoed with voices and footsteps.

Lang followed him, cautiously, and stuck close once the echoing started. "You people do love the dramatics." She said, rolling her eyes.

He looked over his shoulder. "How is this in anyway dramatic?" he asked. "This is the least dramatic way this could happen."

The passage opened into the great hall just inside the main gate, where a number of servants were knocking down trestles while sweeping old straw into the fire, a large amount of industry crammed into a tiny space--far more people than had been at work in the castle for Midsummer's.