Epilogue: Terminus

There are decades where nothing happens; and there are weeks where decades happen. An old quote, from a Russian gentleman who may well have shared the same planet as the old Physician. I'd experienced the latter already, and let me tell you, the quiet days are far more pleasant. The past two weeks were proof of that, split entirely as they were between my room at the Garrison Hotel, and the lovely beaches of Loch Morlich. On any given day, I might set out onto the water for a spot of fishing, atop a hired boat, or perhaps in the water instead, when the weather was good, for a bit of a swim. On other, lazier days, I stayed on the beach and worked on my tan, enjoying the views, both of nature and the nearby beach volleyball team as they trained.

In all that time, I hadn't spoken to the firm once, though they had undoubtedly tried to reach me many times. Eventually, one cheeky bugger had gotten hold of my personal number, and sent through a demand to report for work, though not, curiously, a letter of dismissal. They'd have been well within their rights to sack me, after two weeks without contact, but they refrained: clearly, the labour market was far tighter than I'd been led to believe, if they were willing to humour me like this. Something to consider, perhaps, when I eventually went back home.

"Is this spot taken?"

In my distraction, I'd missed the approach of a most remarkable girl, and I wasn't talking about her appearance, which refused to imprint upon my memory, no matter how hard I looked. No, what really stood out, even at a glance, was the way time itself curved around her, drawing to utter stillness outside a small bubble that enclosed us both, leaving the remainder of the world in frozen grey.

"Help yourself," I offered magnanimously, because in truth, the beach was more or less empty, and her question had been a formality at best. "I must say, I was expecting to be approached sooner, miss?"

"Paradox," The girl replied, plopping herself down beside me, a towel suddenly in place to cushion her fall. "You looked like you needed the break, so I waited."

"Yes, well, can you blame me?" I grinned ruefully at that. "It was quite the shock, to realise that I had been the source of the time loop. Knowing what I can do when pressed, well, it's both humbling and fascinating. I thought myself an ordinary man, not long ago, you know?"

"You are, most of the time. Unless and until your life begins to slip away, at which point your instincts kick in, bringing latent magic to the fore and taking you back. Taking you out of danger."

"I'd thought that the old codger had arranged it somehow," I admitted. "Except that didn't really make sense, not when it only ever happened when I needed it, and he wouldn't benefit at all from being reset. Tell me, Paradox, am I blind? Is magic really so common, that a mundane train journey can bring about a collision between an ancient curse, and my latent power? I didn't think I was on board the Hogwarts Express..."

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"Not at all," Paradox giggled at that. "One in ten thousand is the approximate ratio, globally. Only a few thousand magicals in the entire United Kingdom, and you had the luck to run across a predecessor. Still, it ended well, did it not? You're certainly happier now than you ever were in London."

"I am," I agreed wholeheartedly. "But I'll admit there was still a bit of me, in the back of my mind, that was waiting for the other shoe to drop. What now?"

"Now, you make a choice. You can come with my organisation down to Oxford, and train at the College of Magic. They'll teach you how to harness your innate gift, as well as a few cantrips every upstanding citizen needs, and of course the academic content as well. Come with me, and you'll learn to join our magical society, as well as what's needed to keep it hidden from the wider world. Time Magic is a rare and powerful gift: you could go far, applying it towards the right cause."

"Tempting, very tempting." I admitted, because who wouldn't want to learn how to do magic? "But what if I were inclined to refuse your offer?"

"Then this conversation never happened."

"That's all?" I exclaimed, surprised. "I was expecting at minimum a memory wipe, if not the good old shanghaiing with an offer I can't refuse."

"Sure," Paradox snorted. "Conscript a resentful mage who doesn't want any part of it, then teach them to become dangerous, that'll end well. Conscription died out in England decades ago, for good reason: the outcomes are poor for everyone involved. No, at the end of the day, I'm a big believer in consent. I'd prefer you come with me, but if your heart's set against it, then I won't press the issue. Perhaps it might have been different during World War Two, back when factional strife depleted manpower down to the bone, but these days? The magical world is at peace, just like the mundane, and we're not lacking for willing practitioners."

"That's good to hear," I declared, before pausing. "Though, isn't that approach a bit cavalier? You mentioned keeping magic hidden from the wider world: aren't you afraid I'd go and spill the beans?"

"With what magic?" Paradox retorted, shaking her head slightly. "You've yet to learn how to time travel while conscious, or to bring anyone's memories with you. Sure, you could go on BBC News and tell them all about our conversation, but in the absence of evidence? At best, you'll be heckled by the audience, and at worst, you'll spend time in padded restraints at a psychiatric ward."

"Well, when you put it that way, I guess my TV career can wait," I joked.

Pulling out my phone, I was surprised to see that it was still connected, despite us ostensibly being outside of linear time. Taking advantage of that windfall, I drafted a short email, brief and to the point, tendering my immediate resignation from my law firm. Then, I reached out and offered Paradox my hand.

"I find myself lacking for gainful employment, these days. A change may be in order, all things considered."

"Wonderful," Paradox smiled, and shook my hand. "We'll begin immediately, as soon as we return South."

"Just one thing," I interrupted, drawing a raised eyebrow as she prepared to let go. "Can we travel by alternative means? I'm afraid I've grown to dislike taking the train."

The End.