Floating in the void between space and time, all sense of reality is gone from me. Even though I can raise my hand to touch my face and establish a sense of self, it feels that while stuck in this void, even myself is an illusion.

I am anchorless; adrift and alone.

There aren’t as many stars now to serve as waypoints to the next step in my journey. With each multiverse I visit, when I return to the void alone, there is one less. Each has been a failure. While there were many in which I couldn’t locate Eleanor, in the multiverses where I did find her, she was content with where she was. Either content and happy or content with her sadness or anger or bitterness towards me. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t fix what I had done and my failure was becoming bothersome.

Choosing another star as my guide, I set my intention towards it, but instead of being pulled towards it like so many others before, I was pulled away from it.

When I opened my eyes, I wasn’t sure what I was seeing. As far as I could see there stretched a cityscape that I was surrounded by. In the center of it all was a tall, spiraling building reached into the clouds. It was as large as a mountain, dwarfing the rest of the cityscape. The air was filled with streams of speeders zooming back and forth. They were hovering or flying; defying gravity without any sense of propulsion keeping them off the ground. This was, by far, the most technologically advanced multiverse I had been to.

And yet, there was something that wasn’t quite right. There was a peculiarity with how the speeders were moving in the sky. It wasn’t so much that they were moving back and forth, but rather forth and back. I’m quite aware that that in itself doesn’t make much sense—a simple reordering of two words—but I’m not sure how else to describe it. The riders, instead of facing the direction they were going, had their backs towards it. They were riding backwards or going backwards.

High above, in the buildings that surrounded me there was another clue. A team of workers, dressed in dark blues and grays, were working on a building. Their movements were jilted as I observed them; moving unnaturally. They were working on constructing the roof of the building. But instead of laying tile, they were picking it up and piling the tile next to them—one after the other.

In another building, workers were removing a window high above. They loaded it on the back of a speeder that was hovering next to them and as I watched, the speeder, once the window was secured, sped away, driving backwards—the driver still looking the opposite direction they were going.

With each of these projects I was observing, they weren’t constructing a building, but deconstructing it.

A doorway near me opened and a couple with a hovering baby pram walked out of it backwards, heading down the street—also backwards—smiling and waving as they saw me standing there looking flabbergasted. “Olleh,” they said, before their eyes turned back to each other as they continued on their way.

What was going on?

I started walking down the street, pausing to look in windows to gain other clues as to my whereabouts.

In one shop was a baker. I watched as he took a tray of fresh bread out of the window, walked backwards around the counter where there was a large open oven, and set the loaves inside. Before my eyes the loaves began to shrink, the dark brown of the crust fading lighter and lighter until it was soft moldable dough. Then, the baker took the fresh doughy loaves from the oven back over to his counter where he left them to rise—or rather un-rise as I watched them slowly deflate.

The arrow of time was no longer running forward, but backwards.

I continued on, looking for any sign of Eleanor. I attracted looks from the people I passed; walking forward while they walked backwards—at least from my perception. Certainly to them, I was the odd one.

It reminded me of a tradition Veronica and I used to have with Eleanor: Opposite Day. For fun, on the weekend before Veronica’s next chemotherapy treatment, when she was feeling at her best, we would start the day in reverse: dinner for breakfast, lunch for lunch, breakfast for dinner. Even though Eleanor was too young to understand, I would joke with her by furrowing my brow angrily and saying, “I’m happy!” Or by smiling as big as possible and saying, “I’m sad.” Eleanor would giggle at the ridiculous expressions and would try mimicking me.

Soon a crowd began to follow me through the streets, their movements awkward as they veered from an already predetermined path. They murmured amongst themselves, but I couldn’t understand their words.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

Turning, I asked, “Have you seen a little girl?” They stared at me blankly. Not understanding. I gestured, demonstrating her height. “A girl. Short. Blonde hair.” More blank stares as they turned to each other, shrugging.

I turned to continue on, but a man stepped forward out of the crowd. “Reh htiw uoy era,” he said. His inflection was strange, rising at the beginning of his words and ending flat. He repeated again, “Reh htiw uoy era.” I shook my head, not understanding, and he pointed to the enormous building rising from the center of the city. “Reh htiw uoy era,” he said one more time. Then, “Sseddog eht.”

I paused, thinking through what I had seen previously and the words that the man had just uttered. “Sseddog eht,” I sounded out slowly and the man lowered and raised his head in approval. “Sseddog eht,” I said again, going over the syllables over and and over again in my head. “The Goddess?” I asked.

The man nodded. “The Goddess,” he echoed slowly. He pointed again towards the towering building and gestured for me to follow. He began to walk towards the building instead of away, his legs moving in an awkward and uncomfortable hobble as he tried to reverse his gait and walk forward like myself. I accompanied him.

The towering building was much further than anticipated. We walked for a long time in silence due to the language barrier. People still stopped to stare at us. A few trailed behind us, matching the man’s hobble. We made a strange parade till at last we reached an entrance made of stone.

On the doorway and post were intricate carvings: a man riding a chariot with winged dragons; a tree bearing fruit with a man and a woman standing on either side of it; a woman bearing a chalice and a serving vessel. Each told a story that I did not know, but spoke of ritual and tradition.

The man knocked on the doorway and when it opened, he ushered me inside.

We followed the corridor even further until we came to a large, circular room. The ceiling stretched towards the sky, spiraling higher and higher until there wasn’t anything but darkness and a small pinprick of light. In the center of the room was a brazier that was casting a faint glow and next to it, sleeping, was a girl.

Kneeling next to her, I moved a strand of hair from her face. Her eyes opened and widened as she recognized me. “Daddy?” she said, throwing her arms around my neck.

It was her. Older than other iterations I had found flung across the multiverse, but it was still her.

Holding her at arms length I looked at her. She smiled and I smiled back, but her eyes were distant and glossy; she couldn’t hold focus on my face, her eyes continuing to slide from it back down to the floor.

“Hey, are you okay?” I ask.

Eleanor’s eyes raise back to mine. “I’m tired,” she says. “I’m always tired. Everything they bring me makes me tired so I can dream.”

Her legs buckle and I catch her, scooping her up into my arms. “I’m going to take you home,” I tell her.

She closes her eyes, smiling. “I’d like that,” she says slowly, her speech slurring. “Is Mommy there?”

I think back to the other multiverse where Veronica is watching my original Eleanor. “Yeah, honey. She’s there.”

Eleanor wraps her arms around my neck.

As I walk towards the exit, the man who led me to the chamber doesn’t move. He only whispers, “Sseddog eht,” his eyes on Eleanor.

Through the streets we walk, away from the towering building. No one tries to stop us. There’s just whispers of “Sseddog eht, sseddog eht,” over and over again.

On and on we walk until we reach the end of the city and I see a small green hill in the distance. Eleanor feels so small in my arms. Even though she is older, she only feels a little heavier than my Eleanor did at five. I can feel her ribs pressing into me. She feels so frail.

When we reach the top of the hill, I lay her down on the grass so I can focus my energy and will into leaving this multiverse.

“Dad? Daddy?” Eleanor whispers.

Going to her, I lay down with my face next to hers. “What is it, baby?” I ask.

“I’m so tired,” she says. “They would never let me sleep. Not truly sleep. Only dream and tell them about my dreams and if they didn’t like my dreams they gave me more of the drink to drink. I dreamed of you. I told them of you. I told them that you would come for me. And you did. You came, Daddy. You finally came.” She’s quiet for a while. “I’m tired, Daddy. Can I sleep?”

“Yeah, sweetie, you can sleep.”

Eleanor smiled, tucking her hands underneath her head. I listened as her breathing become more steady, but then it started to slow until she breathed out and didn’t inhale again.

I felt her neck for a pulse but there was none.

I sat there, crying for a long time. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t fix what I had done. Maybe this was all for nothing.

As I sat there, watching Eleanor through the blurriness of tears, I saw a tiny shoot begin to thread its way through her hair until it emerged and bloomed; a lovely, tiny flower of yellow and white. Then another emerged and another and another until my daughter was lying in repose beneath a carpet of flowers.

And so it was time to go and try again.

I imagined the void and it opened before me.

With a final glance at Eleanor, I stepped into the unknown.