CHATEAUGAY LAKE STEAMBOAT GAZETTE CO.

Chronophage Date: ███.██.██

It began with whispers, as such things often do. The elders of Tsahtahkwa’kiak spoke of gaps in their memories, of stories that no longer had beginnings or ends. At first, it was dismissed as the natural forgetfulness of age. But then the young began to forget too.

The Wendigo, that insatiable spirit of hunger, had developed a taste for something far more potent than flesh. It had begun to devour time itself, manifesting as a grotesque fusion of flesh and clockwork, much like the ancient Chronophage of legend.

Kahion:te, the warrior who had once traversed realities, was the first to recognize the signs. He saw how the [REDACTED] ceremony, a cornerstone of their culture for generations, was suddenly unknown to all but him. The intricate carvings that told the story of their people’s arrival at Chateaugay Lake were now smooth, untouched stone.

As the temporal feast continued, entire generations began to vanish from memory. The grandfather paradox manifested in horrifying ways. Children would speak of parents who had never been born, while elders found themselves orphaned by time.

The Chronophage crystal, that mischievous artifact that had once sent Kahion:te across dimensions, pulsed with an ominous rhythm. It was both the cause and the potential solution to their plight. Kahion:te knew he had to act, but every plan he made seemed to unravel before it could begin, consumed by the voracious appetite of the time-eating Wendigo.

In desperation, the remaining villagers gathered at the shore of Chateaugay Lake. They brought with them every timepiece they could find – watches, clocks, sundials, and hourglasses. As the sun set, casting an eerie green glow across the water, they began to chant.

The chant was a paradox in itself, a song of remembrance for things not yet forgotten, a plea to the future to preserve the past. As their voices rose, the Chronophage crystal began to resonate, its facets reflecting moments that were, moments that are, and moments that might yet be.

Suddenly, the air grew thick with temporal distortion. The Wendigo materialized, a grotesque amalgamation of all the histories it had consumed. It lunged for Kahion:te, its maw open wide to swallow him whole.

But Kahion:te was ready. With a movement that seemed to bend time itself, he thrust the Chronophage crystal into the Wendigo’s gaping maw. There was a blinding flash, a sound like the universe gasping, and then…

Silence.

When the villagers opened their eyes, the Wendigo was gone. The Chronophage crystal lay shattered on the ground, its temporal energies dissipating into the air. And with it, fragments of lost memories began to return.

But the feast had taken its toll. The timeline of Tsahtahkwa’kiak would forever bear the scars of the Wendigo’s hunger. Some moments remained lost, creating a patchwork history that would puzzle scholars for generations to come.

Kahion:te, now both younger and older than when the ordeal began, took up the task of piecing together their fractured past. He knew that in the gaps between what was remembered and what was lost, new stories would grow. And perhaps, in time, these new stories would be strong enough to keep the Wendigo at bay.

For now, the people of Tsahtahkwa’kiak guard their memories fiercely, knowing all too well the taste of temporal hunger. And on quiet nights, when the moon hangs low over the lake, some swear they can hear the faint ticking of a clock that never was, counting down to a moment that may never come.