I woke from my dream sweaty and exhausted. The exhaustion wasn’t the physical exhaustion, which could be fixed with a simple day’s sleep, but the mental exhaustion that kept you from sleeping, a horror only those who experienced it could understand. One I wasn’t sure I even entirely understood.
Perhaps it would have been easier on me if I hadn’t realized Elm was Bearard’s true name. It would have been easier to distance myself for my brain to protect itself and play it off. Once I’d realized Elm’s true nature, that was impossible. I destroyed and comforted myself with this fact, replaying the impossible cracks that split space. As one of the few people with the abilities and the knowledge to help, I was bound to do so. But I wasn’t sure if the newfound pain in my chest was caused by a bone-deep and mind-crushing terror or of sadness at the loss of an entire universe’s worth of life.
Or was it both? My hands shook as I took another shower, washing away the sweat. The thought of such an event occurring on any world, but especially my own, struck a fear so great my mind found it incomprehensible. Nearly as incomprehensible as the immense power Ava had once wielded to begin such a feat. An immense power Ava once held and could regain again.
An immense power that, I was told, Cove came the closest to matching.
There were very few people who wouldn’t be affected by a horror of that magnitude. Suddenly, I felt far more empathetic for Cove’s reactions to his mother and his deep-setted anxiety of interfering with the worldlines. It was one thing to know of a terrible event. And when that event doesn’t affect you, it’s easy to forget. To put it off to the side, to say it’s not your problem. It’s another entirely to not only witness that event in person but to know and have spoken with someone involved in that event, watch them suffer, and to know they were still suffering.
True hatred sparked in my chest, settling in my chest as I tried to stomp out its embers. It wouldn’t do to get emotional.
I wished from the depths of my heart that this dream would fade like most, but I knew it would haunt me forever.
The chance of falling asleep again was zero, and I patted the sleeping Ani as I tossed on a worn pair of khakis and a simple polo and strode past the bed, skipping breakfast to head out into the bustling city.
My first order of business was to bring my new phone to my carrier and hope that the world’s technologies were compatible. If they weren’t, I’d have to spend the money on a brand new phone, having forgone phone insurance. Unlike my sister, or my parents, I took good care of objects in my possession, priding myself in their impeccable condition.
The clerk at the counter picked up my phone, twisting it in his hand. “I’ve never seen a phone like this. Where did you get it?”
“A friend.”
He whistled. Still fiddling with it, the clerk asked, “Some friend. Do you know where he got it from?”
From another world. “No idea. Can it be used on your network?”
“I’m not sure. Give me a moment to check?”
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
I gestured for him to proceed and waited impatiently at the counter as the clerk disappeared into the back room. It was early, and the city was just awakening, so I was able to easily hear as the clerk discussed things with his supervisor.
Despite their best attempts, they were unable to find out anything about my device and, after nearly an hour, decided to simply test it by slipping in a new SIM. To their confusion, it connected right away, and my phone dinged as it received all my missed notifications. The clerk plodded out, slipping me my new phone. “It’ll work,” he frowned, “I’m not entirely sure why, but it works.”
I suspected it was in part because the writer based the technology on the real world. Either way, I was grateful.
“If you run into any issues, we won’t be able to provide support.”
I acknowledged his statement, paid my fees, then left to drown myself in the contents of the magical library in Ventosus.
As I walked, I skimmed the alerts on my phone, deleting most of them. A message from Cove waited for me, dated only an hour prior, letting me know that I wasn’t required to be in until tomorrow to report to Jacob. I let him know I understood, then lost myself in the twists and turns of the library, grabbing a stack of research books and settling in a forest-themed room on the top floor. Sunlight drifted in through the skylight, and a bubbling fountain mimicked a cascading waterfall, falling from the wall down to collect in a small stone-covered basin at the bottom, where it drained and was pumped back up to the top. A moss-colored beanbag was positioned comfortably next to a stand where I dropped my collection of books with a thud, thoughtlessly snatching the top one before collapsing into the soft beanbag.
The sun rose and faded as I fell into the words on the pages, filling the corners of my mind with information on the ancient mage city of Agartha rather than thinking any individual thoughts. I paused when I got thirsty, slipping the attached silk ribbon between the book's pages and setting it aside for later.
A woman, looking about my age, bumped into my shoulder as I passed, unable to see over her pile of books. The books tipped to the ground, spilling over the floor.
“I’m so sorry!” The woman shoved her glasses up and frantically started piling up the books as I helped.
“Don’t worry about it,” I said, picking up the last of the books. I stacked it on top of her new pile, catching sight of the golden-etched title, The Origins of Magic.
“How far back does that book go?” I wondered aloud, thinking of the ancient civilizations, such as Shamballa and Agartha, which were each over 10,000 years old.
She perked up at my question, her black hair sliding over her shoulder. “I’m not sure! That’s why I picked it up.”
“...right.”
She studied me briefly, scanning me like she was reading a book. I fidgeted under her gaze, uncertain about the newfound attention. The woman nodded, though the motion seemed more for herself than me. “...if I read it first…” she mumbled before speaking up, “I should be done with it in a couple of days if you want to read it yourself.”
“Thank you,” I said, flashing her a smile.
Her red robes crinkled as she knelt on the ground to set down her pile of books, placing a hand on top as she rose, keeping it steady. Her other hand shot out toward me. “My name’s Leala. I’m an Elemental Mage.”
I took her slim and cool hand, shaking it once. “Hayden, Spaciotemporal.”
Her eyes flashed with interest, and she shoved her glasses up, leaning in to look closer at my face. Her pile of books tilted precariously beneath her hand.
“Hayden, huh? Aren’t you Cove’s new coworker?” at my baffled expression, she explained, “Our parents knew each other, so Cove and I ran the same circles. I haven’t seen him in ages, though.”
Like Cove, she must be from a family of mages, then. Almost as if she read the question in my mind as it formed, she quirked her lips and continued, “My family helped found Ventosus. We’ve been here ever since.”
I was tempted to ask her how it was, growing up with magic, when she read that question, too. “You grew up in Chicago, right?” at my nod, she continued, “I’d love to have a conversation with you about it if you get the chance. I’d be happy to answer any questions you have about growing up here, too. You seem like a curious person.”
If I didn’t have the earrings, I would have worried she could read my mind.
Her grin widened. “I can’t read your mind. Your face, on the other hand, is an open book.”
Leala’s phone dinged, and her hand keeping the books in place, reached for it, letting the books fall to the side. She looked mournfully at the pile before dutifully restacking the books with my help.
Once again, The Origins of Magic was placed on top of the pile.
“Thank you! I’ll catch you later!” she called, power-walking off with her tower of books and disappearing around the corner.
What a strange person. I had the feeling I’d be seeing a lot more of her.