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Never Cry Fair
Prologue: Ignorance is not bliss

Prologue: Ignorance is not bliss

Edward listened to the raging aether storm in his dorm while lying down on his bed and feeling the unnatural flux of magical energies. It felt like his internal organs were being lightly pulled in different directions. The experience was very nauseating.

Restless and unable to sleep, Edward tiredly stared at the ceiling as a flash of nearby lighting suddenly illuminates his room, the strong shockwave coming soon after.

The stone dorm was reinforced against the extreme weather of the Aether mountains, the windows made of some strong, opaque material that was not glass. Thankfully the solid construction also protected against loud sounds. Otherwise, it would likely take less than a month to get tinnitus. The storms were something else.

During typical weather, the view out the window would be an epic valley with a city near its lowest point, illuminated and powered by some allegedly unmagical and odd elven creation that, for whatever reason, requires a massive dam. However, it also backs up as a very hard-to-bach frontline for the creatures migrating north from the lost forests.

Right now, all that Edward could see is a wall of rain only penetrated by frequent flashes of lightning.

Luckily these storms only got this bad once every year or so.

Seeing as I can't sleep, might as well be productive, Edward thought. And so, he got up to write down his thoughts. Perhaps finally I'll settle down on some specialisation to study.

Sitting down at his desk and briefly forgetting about the storm, he reflexively cast an orb of light, almost botching the easy spell. A faint tinge of pain made itself known because of the imprecise cast.

"Gofn, you fu...," Edward almost blasphemously exclaimed. The damn storm makes everything complicated.

Welp, at least that little burst of adrenaline woke me up.

Edward dipped his quill with practised fingers, ignoring a sudden burst of mighty thunder rattling the reinforced windows. Everyone has to get used to those in the aether mountains.

Carefully bringing the pen to his journal, he started to write in barely perceptible writing.

At least I can understand it, so that's close enough.

This world is oddly chaotic; clearly, something terrible happened in the past. This event has destabilised the local fabric of space and time, according to the lecturers. Stories from people claiming to be from another world are oddly common.

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

Perhaps planar transfer really is possible? Maybe it is. In that case, the various races are lucky nothing terrifying has made it over yet.

Edward couldn't help but imagine the potential Eldritch horrors that could exist in some unknown universe. Cool to think about. I wonder what would be a suitably horrific name? Naturally, it must start with X. Second letter r for sure. Xr... Xreztzeeroth? Yes!

And so Edward sounded it out three times, thoughtfully tasting the word at the worst possible time he could have chosen.

Meanwhile in another universe

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Our consciousness is enjoying the void, many threads of one great mind named 'Xreztzeeroth' working to many ends. Divided but still interconnected, we inhabit everything in this plane of existence. A part of us is reaching to Beyonds and enjoying their tunes (currently something about buying a stairway to a higher domain). Other parts find other things to do. We are always on the lookout for new and exciting planes. There is not much to do for those who are All but consume whatever the endless carousel of Beyonds offer.

Moving to Beyonds can be very dangerous. Luckily our vast mind can easily tell if such a thing is feasible. Whenever it is, we always try to move to it. Assimilating a whole universe is always at least briefly exciting.

As I feel a sudden tug, we are optimistic this is our lucky aeon. Could this be another compatible universe? We turn our attention to a new world. Through some monkey saying my name, we have enough of a foothold to quickly snatch some information from an unevolved chemical brain of someone called 'John'. The world is called Aia. After inspecting more His memories. Not their. Individuality. Disgusting. We realise we've never had a world quite like this. How exciting! A new piece for our collection! And anyway, we'd be doing these... Individuals a favour.

As the echo of our name fades, we can See that our plane of existence will intersect the world briefly. Many other universes are also aligning at the same time and then making space for new ones. Aia appears to be at a crossroads. Fascinating. We also See that the local laws allow my existence. Perfect.

Curiously we fully move to this Beyond.

Uh - Oh. We feel that something is wrong. The intersection is a lot less stable than we thought. Worse, the local laws allowing our existence is a brief anomaly. We briefly notice a plethora of carbon and silicate-based life-forms inhabiting the world. You know, the usual plebians, so we turn our attention away. There are more critical things to deal with. We See the local laws of space twisting, starting to limit my form. We are permanently losing small bits of ourselves. This realm is too puny.

No matter, we'll just move back. Before even trying, our vast mind subconsciously realises that we have lost our exit window for obvious reasons. We try anyway and fail. We examine the reasons to See another way, but we no longer understand what we are Seeing. What was so clear a second ago is now beyond us. We are losing ourselves quickly.

With our last mental faculties, we try to See where this transformation will take me. Dust. Huh. Unless… with some residual local energy, we can make a vessel. We quickly copy another biped's brain and see that here, in their primitive, simplistic language, they call this energy 'Aether'. And they use sounds for communicating - feebly low bandwidth. And I have no choice but to become like one of these 'monkeys' or perish.

Quickly dying and losing form, we no longer envelop the word. The end is close. Our grasp on the local energies is becoming sluggish.

Close to Seeing no more, we start to form a vessel. I know I won't remember or ever become my past self again. But at least this is something.

Losing most of my memories and Sight, we are briefly not sapient as the very last bit of us makes the transfer. Until with a last, faint, dying pulse of energy, the vessel's body of flesh, electric signals and other biological functions twitches with life. Finally, we are reduced to a spark of our former self but still alive by some poor definition. Consciousness returns, and I feel disappointment and loss, but I do not know why. I can't remember the reason. Somehow I know that I have lost so much that I cannot comprehend it. And thinking of me as me is the most disturbing of all.

Bracing myself, I open my eyes but somehow immediately know I've never seen so little before.

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