It had been a long, long day for Ray. Dealing with Darian always took a lot out of him, and then his mentor said that she wouldn’t be able to acquire the materials Ray needed for his term project.

Not like it would have helped anyway.

Ray knew he would’ve enjoyed living at the mage tower under other circumstances. All of the knowledge and opportunity... he loved studying magic. It was the first time Ray had ever wanted to study anything.

Now, Darian had cut off his social connections, leaving him unsupported among his peers and floundering under an apathetic mentor.

He flopped onto his bed. Fourteen days ‘til I’m kicked out, I guess. His eyes drifted closed.

For the second time in his life, Ray woke up in a completely foreign place with no clue as to how he got there.

Isla was fixing coffee when someone stepped into the kitchen. She jumped— "Shit!"— and snatched a butterknife off the counter, raising it in defense. She lowered it when she saw the look of abject shock on the kid's face.

"How'd you get in here?" Isla never failed to lock the doors at night.

His open mouth made no sound, eyes darting around the room, moving from lights to fridge to coffeemaker to—

Wait a minute.

Isla sighed. "Let me guess..." She eyed his plain, non-industrially made nightclothes. "... you just appeared here?"

The boy nodded, still agape.

Of course. Isla frowned. What is with all these lost boys? I'm not Peter Pan! Or Wendy, or anybody!

She put her hands on her hips. "Well, sit down and I'll make an actual breakfast."

Isla set two plates of scrambled eggs and toast on the kitchen table.

"First things first," she said, salting her eggs. "What's your full name?"

The boy visibly summoned up courage.

Hoo-kay. A shy one. Not my forte.

"Raymond Atwell," he said in a quiet tone.

"Alright, Raymond, I'm assuming you weren't here half an hour ago?"

He shook his head.

Isla took a steady breath. "... and weren't on Earth half an hour ago?"

Raymond blinked, surprised, then slowly shook his head again.

"Okay, last question for my turn: when and where were you last on Earth?"

He pondered this. "Um... six months ago? And Shasta Lake, California."

Isla searched his name on her phone. Fifth result, a missing persons article from Redding, California, listing a fifteen year old Raymond and a matching photo. Yep. Actually another one. She checked the date: three years ago. Hmm. Well, it wouldn't be the weirdest part of all this...

She looked back up to see him nibbling on his toast. "You got any questions for me?"

Raymond set the toast down. "Yes, um... are you... going to return me to my family?" His voice trailed off to a whisper.

"I didn't kidnap you, if that's what you're asking." She tried to chuckle. Looks like he doesn't know anything about returning. "I recommend you at least write your parents a letter while you're here. If you want to do more, I'll help, but that's all up to you."

He nodded, eyes boring holes into his breakfast.

The shock had yet to leave Ray when Isla pushed him back into the guest room and told him to 'put some real clothes on'. She mercifully hadn’t pressed him for more information during breakfast, opting to instead tell him what they were going to do in her garden today (and that he was going to help her). Ray appreciated the gesture, but it didn’t mitigate how intense her gaze was.

Attempting to shake himself out of it, Ray reached for the top drawer of the small dresser. The first thing he saw was a pair of bright blue boxers with a teddy bear print. He paused for a moment.

Ray moved on to the jeans and t-shirts.

Isla watched Raymond pull weeds with casual dexterity, carefully working his way around the small lettuce sprouts. He works efficiently when you put him on the right track.

Ben’s visage floated through her thoughts. It’d been almost a month since his abrupt return to Achnaea, and Isla was left wondering how much of it was real. Raymond’s appearance put those questions to rest while raising some of its own.

Why was Isla being bombarded with kids to take care of? Who or what sent them to her? How did they switch between worlds so easily, and now how did time flow relative to... itself? That last one gave Isla some hope that Ben had been able to help his teammates in time. Though that possibly implied that the purpose for the boys’ visits was for her to help them through a particular situation. Solving other people’s problems... old habits die hard, I guess.

Isla couldn’t help but compare the two teens as she idly tended her tomatoes. Where Ben had gradually let his worries and weariness wear down on the faith he had in his team— and himself— Raymond seemed to lack both of those things in the first place. He hadn’t mentioned anyone he worried for, and his meekness knew no bounds. The kid’s a walking self-esteem black hole. So, a teenager. What is the problem he’s looking to solve?

Conversation remained sparse throughout lunch. Isla was tactful in not mentioning Raymond’s family just yet— it hadn’t escaped her notice that Raymond seemed to avoid all further mentions of his life on Earth in what little he said. She figured that when Raymond felt comfortable enough to ask important questions of her, he’d be ready to answer some more sensitive questions of his own.

Ray found himself facing the teddy bear boxers again. Gardening dictated that he needed an evening shower. Being tossed between worlds again dictated that his only set of underwear was now waiting to be washed.

He put them on. Yes, he would wear them because they were comfortable.

By lunchtime on day two Isla knew the wait-and-see strategy was getting her nowhere. Raymond was more or less settled in after relaxing and watching TV for a while the previous night, but no new inquiries came.

“Hey, Raymond?”

He hesitantly looked up from his sandwich, having heard the more serious tone of voice. “Yes?”

“There are some important things we need to discuss. Namely about your time here. Are you... up for it?” Isla tried to hold back on the pressure.

Raymond nodded.

“All right. Well, first and foremost you are not the only kid to have shown up at my house through unknown means. The first one was here a few weeks ago. He had also been... somewhere else for a time, and appeared randomly one day with no idea what was going on.”

He nodded again, eyes widening. Isla had shown little surprise on the first day (aside from being startled) and asked very few questions about the overall situation.

“The main issue I want to discuss is that he disappeared the next day. Presumably back to the world he came from.”

Raymond sat stunned.

“Now, this only happened after we discussed what was going on in his world. Whatever the reason he was sent to me in particular, he was only sent back after he had made a certain decision.” Isla made it a point to look into Raymond’s eyes. “So my question for you is: was there a decision you were about to make that might determine whether or not you would want to stay on Earth?”

He tried to avoid her gaze, fidgeting.

Isla was somewhat relieved that there was a decision, if frustrated that he wouldn’t just spit it out.

“Can I... can I think about it?” He asked hoarsely.

“Take your time. But we need to finish our discussion eventually. While you’re thinking about it you should also write something to your parents. They have a right to some kind of notice or explanation, no matter how vague.”

Raymond just nodded again, already slipping out of his chair and heading to the guest room.

Ray sat on the bed trying to read. Isla had a decent collection of thrillers on hand, but no amount of intriguing plots could shove aside his thoughts. There’s only one possibility. A decision, though... the decision to switch projects maybe? But what’s the other option? I couldn’t complete a project on magical locomotion without the materials and tools to build the models... He knew he was avoiding the one thought he didn’t want to accept. Time wore down on his resolve to ignore it. ... Unless the decision was about giving up. Switching projects isn’t giving up, though! I just... didn’t have time. Or any ideas. I didn’t have a choice. How is that choosing to give up?

The night passed slowly. He skipped dinner, instead waiting for sleep to put a hold on his misery.

More reading and gardening the next morning let Ray gather his thoughts. They sat down in the living room for lunch with sandwiches in hand and the TV set on a courtroom drama.

Ray decided to strike during a commercial break. He took a deep breath, steeling himself as much as he could. “I... the world I was on is called Elyend. I was studying at a mage tower to learn magic, but... it wasn’t going too well. I didn’t have any real friends, and a guy named Darian kept cutting me off from everyone anyways. I liked the classes, and I was doing well with grades, but in order to pass to the fourth level—since I’m a third level— you have to complete a project. You’re supposed to have your mentor’s help... and... my mentor is a good mage, but not a great teacher. She doesn’t really care what I do as long as she fulfills our lesson time quotas, so she hasn’t been very supportive. I didn’t even know about the rules of the project 'til a month out from the deadline because a teacher talked about it in class. The one idea I had I couldn’t do because my mentor couldn’t get the materials for it, and thanks to Darian I can’t get help from my classmates or their mentors. So I was two weeks away from being failed and kicked out of the tower for good as a third level mage, which is more or less considered worthless.” He sighed, partly in relief.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

“Hmm. That sucks.”

“Yeah.”

Isla thought about it for a second. “You couldn’t ask a teacher for help?”

“They aren’t really supposed to get involved with the process, since they’re the judges for it. It’s a way to let them see how far you’ve come, but for me it’ll just mean disappointing them.”

“Yuck.”

“Yeah.”

“Guess you’ll just have to do a project that doesn’t require materials.”

“I don’t have time to write a spell that will let me pass. Especially not without my mentor’s help.”

“Guess you’ll have to.”

He sighed again. “If I go back, probably.”

Isla looked at him, deciding to try another approach. “How does magic work?”

“Uh, that’s a long discussion. An entire term’s worth, actually.”

She rolled her eyes. “How do you cast spells, then?”

“You guide mana into patterns and movements that create the desired effect. Most magicians will memorize gestures and chants that aid in that, then gradually remove those aids as they become more accustomed to the spell. Higher level mages who have enough experience and mana control can cast some spells with no aids at all.”

“Neat.”

“Yeah.”

Isla didn’t really get why any of that would work, but like Ray said, there was a lot more to it that she didn’t know. Eh, it’s magic. He seemed to understand it well enough, and it was a talking point he was comfortable with.

They idly watched and chatted about what was on TV before Isla played the familiar role of buzzkill. “Look, I know you feel like you don’t have anything over there, but what exactly do you have here?”

“Well... um... gardening... with you, and stuff.” He curled in on himself, fidgeting.

Isla laughed. “That’s an old retiree’s life. I chose to live like this because I was done with experiencing everything else, not just starting.” She turned to him, donning a more serious expression. “You’re a bright kid, Ray, you could go far. Much further than here.”

Ray fixed his gaze on his hands. “I'm guaranteed to fail. I... don’t have anywhere to go.”

She sighed. "There's a thing I've learned over my years: if you walk into a situation believing that you'll lose, then no amount of talent or luck will land you the win. You have to mean it. Want it. Do your absolute best. Anything less and you'll end up being bitter over lost chances, and nobody who does anything important has time to wallow in that."

"What if my best isn't enough?" He whispered.

Isla stared at him. "Then at least you can tell everyone who bugs you about it to fuck off." She leaned back. "Shuts 'em up well enough, from my experience."

An image of Isla staring down Darian came to mind. For the first time in a few weeks, Ray really smiled.

They cleaned up lunch and Ray confessed his worries about coming up with ideas. He had to do something quickly, but fancy enough that he’d be passed to the third level.

Isla shrugged. “You just need some inspiration. Lazing around the house is great after working outside, but sometimes it’s good to go into town. Shake things up a bit. You want to go see a movie or something tomorrow, try to spot something?”

“Um... would people recognize me? I should have been a missing person, after all...”

Isla paused. “Oh. Oh dear, I forgot to mention this when you first showed up. It’s been three years since you disappeared from here. My apologies.”

Ray’s heart beat faster. “What?”

“Yes, it seems time isn’t the same in both worlds. Don’t ask me for details, I don’t have a clue how it works.”

That... might help? His mind raced. It could mean that I won’t return days later, but hours later. Six months to around three years... it’d take almost a week here for a day to pass on Elyend. Could I make good progress on my project while I’m here? It’d have to be mainly theory... Enchanting again? I can’t test spells while I’m here, but I can do most of the work for enchanting on paper. I have my kit at the tower, so I just need to use simpler materials this time... Simple doesn’t impress, though, unless... Ray eyed the TV. Unless it builds something bigger.

“Hey, Isla?”

“Yes?”

“Can I just... brainstorm for a minute? With you?”

“I love brainstorming. Shoot.”

Ray scratched his neck, thoughtful. “So like I said earlier, a good part of mage’s ability to cast a spell is limited by their ability to imagine what they want to happen and how to move their mana in order to do so. Enchanting is similar, but all the imagining and mana control is done by the inscription; the enchantment is instead limited by how well the mage can translate their instructions into writing. It makes what is initially a difficult task— say, creating a moving, three dimensional likeness of an object— into an impossible one. How could a block of writing remember what a bird looks like? I think... the main issue is information storage. Scrying spells prove that magic can see and hear things just fine, but that’s all done in real time. The challenge is telling the enchantment how to recreate an image from nothing. Or I guess from some set of prerecorded data.”

“... Okay.”

“The thing is, enchanting uses runic symbols as part of a set of basic commands. Last term we learned how to make enchanted lights like those that are all around the tower campus. They only use two runes: one for the light, and one for the distance from the inscription. Tweaking these runes changes the shape or color of the light and the distance from the inscription it appears.”

“... Okay.”

“But, theoretically, if you made a bunch of little lights with certain positions, then you could recreate an image. Like a TV does.”

“Cool. Are you going to make a magical TV?”

“No. I think I’m going to make a magical holographic display.”

Ray spent the rest of the afternoon scribbling down notes and talking at Isla, who did her best to show support and lend advice. This continued all the way through dinner and well into the night. Finally, Isla called for a stop.

Isla took the last sip of her tea. “Well, this has been interesting, and you seem like you’ve got most of it started, so I say it’s time for bed.”

Ray fruitlessly rubbed at his eyes. “Yeah. This is going to take every bit of time I can give it, but I can’t really read words anymore.”

They had started cleaning off the kitchen table when Isla remembered something. “Are you going to write anything to your parents? I can send it discreetly if you’d like.”

“Oh... um... no, I don’t think so.”

Isla squinted at him. “You sure? They should have some of their worries put to rest.”

Ray shuffled his feet. “It was just me and my mom, when I left. She... had to take a lot of prescriptions, and I don’t ever remember her being happy. I don’t know how she handled my disappearance, but I don’t... after three years, I don’t know if she needs to hear anything from me. Wants to. She’d just think I ran away.”

That wasn’t going to fly with Isla. “You still should say something while you’re here. This is the only chance you have to lay any of your concerns to rest, and you don’t know how she’s changed in your absence.”

Ray shrugged. “Maybe tomorrow.”

“All right, then. Good night.”

“Good night.”

For the third time in his life, Ray woke up in a different room than he fell asleep in, except this time he was disappointed instead of surprised. Thought I’d get another couple days on Earth to think. At least I know what I’m doing now.

He thought about the last conversation he’d had with Isla. It might be better this way. I hope Mom’s doing well, and... I wish Isla the best. Ray had been snatched from Earth once already; he knew how to deal with it, at least in the short term.

He moved over to his desk. Time to get to work.

The next week passed in a blur. It took all of Ray’s spare time to figure out how to get the enchantment to “see” and then “record”. He had to do the impossible and guilt his mentor Vienne into helping him, which she admittedly did, although not without a lot of confused and miffed looks cast towards Ray. He forced himself not to care. She would either forget about it in a month or pass him off to another mentor. Win-win.

Third level students were allowed the last week of classes off to finish their projects. Ray was scrambling to pack up his notes on the final class of the week when Darian approached from across the classroom. It wasn’t the first time the bully had pestered Ray since he’d returned from Earth, but Ray had been ignoring him with a newfound passion. Based on the reserved glare Darian was giving him it seemed he’d noticed the change.

“Why are you in such a rush, little waste of space? You’ve been snorting the ink off of books this whole week.”

Darian’s current lackey snickered.

Ray returned a level stare. Best Isla impression, come on. “Why do you care?”

Darian’s glare turned cold. “Because you’re weak. Weak things don’t deserve to be here, and they certainly don’t get to act like they’re too good for everyone else.” He stepped forward, imposing.

... Yeah, this is just going to be a waste of time. Ray inhaled. “You’re the one who’s been bullying everyone into staying out of my business. It’s not my fault if you’re regretting that now, for some reason.” He brushed past the stunned duo. “Good luck on your project.” Ray had enchantments to finish.

The day of reckoning dawned bright and clear. Third level students waited impatiently outside of the auditorium, projects in hand. Ray’s own project consisted of five recording devices and five display devices, as well as a set of cut and polished data stones (courtesy of Vienne’s stone shape spell). Each hand-sized stone could record several seconds of data, depending on how much was in the recording space.

Finally it was Ray’s turn. He stepped inside to find instructors Levian, Dana, and Pentrall sitting at desks placed on the ground level, pens in hand. Arcs of empty seats stretched up and away from a large, low stage at the front of the room.

“Prepare your project and explain its purpose,” Levian commanded.

Ray quickly set up his display on the stage, careful to place each of the four ground-level players in the exact same positions as the recorders ten feet away. He'd wanted to add location tags for each of the ground-level recorders so that he could program the players to automatically assemble themselves, but he just didn’t have the time.

He slipped the blank data stones in their slots and activated the levitation on the central recording device, nervousness tugging at his fingers. Ray stood to the side and cleared his throat. “Hello, instructors. My project is a three dimensional light recorder and display system using enchantment data inscribed on stone blocks. Blank stone blocks can be used to record up to fifteen seconds of light data, which can then be placed in the corresponding display devices in order to view the recording as many times as desired.”

The judges showed mildly surprised expressions, making note of his claims on sheets of paper. “You may begin your demonstration,” Instructor Levian called out.

Public speaking mode, public speaking mode!... “Using the five devices to your left, I can record any objects lying within the recording area until the data blocks run out of room. For a small object this is around fifteen seconds.” Ray pulled out a wooden ball and cast mage hand on it. With his free hand he activated the recording devices using an enchanted remote. He flew the wooden ball around in the recording area for a few seconds before reclaiming it and turning off the devices.

“Now, using the five devices to your right, I can replay the events recorded on the stone blocks so long as the playing devices are arrayed in the same manner.” Ray moved the data stones over to the players and activated them using a different remote. The central player flew into position and the wooden ball reappeared, this time slightly fuzzier in appearance. The illusion wasn’t perfect, but it was convincing, especially from the judges’ position.

Instructor Dana leaned forward. “How detailed can this display be?”

Ray dipped his head. “That is the third part of this demonstration.” He took out another set of data stones and replaced the wooden ball recordings.

The judges watched as a holographic Vienne began a brief demonstration of ice dart— odd looks thrown at an off-screen Ray included— with clearly visible gestures that culminated in a sliver of ice zipping out of range. The recording was five seconds in total, but one could make out the color and shape of Vienne’s eyes. “I currently do not have audio incorporated into these recordings, but it should be possible to add it at a higher level.”

Silence reigned.

“You said it was a recording?” Levian asked.

“Yes.”

“Play it again.”

Ray did just that.

The judges spent the next five minutes poring over Ray’s data stones and recording enchantments before filling out their assessments. Instructor Levian finished first, contemplative.

Ray nervously broke the silence. “Is everything... okay?”

Levian looked up, expression softening. “Yes, it’s fine. There are actually upper sixth level enchantments that can produce a similar effect, though none so...” He glanced at a data stone. “... innovatively. I recommend you expand upon this topic for your sixth level project. I vote for pass.”

Ray’s heart soared.

“I, as well.”

“Pass.”

Ray left the building ecstatic. He had a goal to reach, one that the instructors had even encouraged. He murmured a quiet thanks to Isla. The time he'd spent in her company reevaluating things had not been wasted.

The sun shone brightly as Ray walked towards Vienne’s office to tell her the news. He had really only loved magic ever since he arrived on Elyend, but he could learn to love holographs, too.

Isla stared at the search results on her computer. She’d taken it upon herself to send a note to Ray’s mother since the little twerp had up and disappeared before she could make him do it. One whirl of the internet later— the missing persons article mentioned that a Maria Atwell had reported him— and she found a small obituary. Maria had passed away not six months ago.

Isla left her study and sat on the back porch to think. The sun had long since risen above the horizon, but plenty of dew remained, lending the air a fresh morning scent. Isla breathed it in deeply. Whatever’s doing this... I can’t say this outcome is for the better. He had a right to know. She sighed heavily. I just hope things work out for him.

Time marched onward.