“You hear the Call, then,” Mother fixed her gaze on me. It wasn’t a question but rather an observation. Something about the whispering from the book sounded familiar. It was like an old friend was trying to get my attention but growing increasingly frustrated with each failed attempt.
Kaya’s expression turned worrisome. “What do you mean ‘the call?’ I don’t hear anything. You guys are freaking me out.”
“Most would say Kai has an affinity for Void Magic, but that’s inaccurate. The Void is a source—an origin of Magic. Do you get what I’m saying, Kai? You don’t have an ‘affinity’ for the Void. Like very few before, you were born connected to Magic itself.” She became louder and more excited with each word. “Some accounts even claim the Void is a deity.”
I didn’t respond; I looked at my mother dumbfounded. *I don’t understand. If I’m “connected to Magic,” why can’t I use it? I thought. “But, I can’t cast or conjure. It’s always been a vague feeling in the palm of my hands. How could I be connected to Magic when I can’t use it? And if it’s not an affinity or school of Magic, what about grimoires? Sure, they’re rare, but I’ve heard Void grimoires exist. Read about them, even.” None of this was making any sense to me.
She pointed to her black book bound in chains and said, “Ah, but such a grimoire does exist, my child. This one.” My eyes locked onto the book again, but peeling my eyes away this time felt impossible. The whispering I heard returned in full force, gradually getting louder and angrier until it was no longer a whisper. It had become a requiem of screams, drowning out my surroundings. I was overcome by an urge to reach for the book, but Mother forced the grimoire into my hand.
The chains were cold as ice. I flipped the book around several times, inspecting the metal links barring my entry. I could feel Mother’s eyes following my every action. I met her gaze and looked her directly in the eyes for the first time since our reunion, forcing a chill to run down my spine. She was grinning ear to ear, but her eyes were empty, hollow—a barren, terrifying smile.
An ominous wind accompanied the moment of horrific eye contact. The chains of the grimoire rattled on the breeze, and I turned my attention back to the chained book if only to avoid eye contact with her.
The book screamed again, but going by my sister’s face, she couldn’t hear it.
“Answer it, Kai. Answer the Call.” I could see her hands gesturing impatiently in my peripheral vision. “It’s been waiting so very long.” Her tone was as unnerving as the grin on her face. Every nerve in my body was telling me that something was wrong, but my curiosity outweighed them.
A black ichor formed and pooled around my feet like the world was bleeding. Looking back up in stunned silence, I saw the horror on Kaya’s face. I shot a glance back toward Mother. She was smiling, but just like before, the look in her eyes made me shiver. They were hungry, starving, even. I sank into the ichor pool before I could ask Kaya what was happening. I found myself completely submerged in darkness.
I realized I had been here before. It was when I fell asleep at my desk, waiting for my fellow examinees to finish their written tests. I was in the same pitch-black ocean, completely swallowed. There was no surface, no light. I heard someone whispering in this space, calling me deeper into this sea of nothingness.
I heard the voice again as if on cue, but it spoke in a clear and concise tone rather than a whisper.
“*Human sorcerer.” I heard the voice of a woman speak but saw no one. I waved my arms and legs, trying to reposition myself to find where it came from, but I found no one. Residing myself to floating in the space, I crossed my arms.
“Where am I?” I asked bluntly. “And who are you?” This was the first time the voice had been this clear.
“*You finally answered. You’ve slipped into my domain several times over your lifetime. I would demand you introduce yourself, but you'd vanish before I could get your answer. Once every century, a human is born with a connection to me. They, however, were only allowed entry into my domain once. You are the first I’ve seen here on more than one occasion.” I realized the voice was within my mind, not coming from an outside source. Was I going crazy?
Momentarily spooked, I asked, “I’m not sure I’m following. You just said people are rarely born with a connection to *you*?”
*“I believe present-day humans refer to me as ‘the Void.’. Though, in the past, your people referred to me as ‘Goddess’”
*I misheard her, right? The Void? Goddess? What’s with that? The Void isn’t something you can talk to, at least not in a literal sense. Right?
“I assure you—you heard correctly,” the voice answered without me having to ask my question. Only this time, the voice came from behind me. I spun and found myself face-to-face with a woman who appeared to be in her mid-twenties. She had golden eyes, but her hair was as dark as midnight. By all accounts, an ordinary young woman—though beautiful—wearing a simple black dress. Except she exerted a Magical pressure that you could only describe as otherworldly. It was heavy and terrifying, all the while pure.
Then I realized I’d just been staring at her, eyes wide, without saying anything. This woman had just spoken directly into my mind while hearing my thoughts.
“Hang on. Can you see me?” the woman asked. Startled by her question and confused by the events unfolding, I nodded silently, and her eyes lit up. “It’s been at least five hundred years since someone could perceive me! Even among those I bless, it’s rare for them to appear here!”
*The pressure of her Magic is suffocating, but she’s breathtaking, I thought to myself. She was the most beautiful person I’d seen.
“Whoops, sorry.” She closed her eyes for a second, and the overwhelming pressure subsided. “You’ve got some funny thoughts, kid. I’m Dhumavati. I’ve got to admit it’s pretty exciting I get to interact with a human face-to-face.” she said, looking amused. Had she just read my mind?
Finally, I found my voice and asked the golden-eyed woman, “Who–?” I caught myself before finishing my sentence. She wasn’t human. That’s one thing I was sure of. “What are you?” was all I could muster.
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She must have found my befuddlement amusing because she guffawed before answering, “I am THE Magic—the one and only, as far as I know. I am everything and also nothing. The beginning, the end, and hundreds of other monickers you humans saw fit to give me. As I said earlier, I believe I have been called ‘the Void for the past couple of centuries.’ But to put it simply, boy, I am Magic. The very thing you struggle with.”
*What is this woman saying? She’s Magic? Like, the power itself?
“Yeah, pretty much. And I’ve been calling you for several years now,” she answered, but her mouth didn’t move. I was right about her speaking to me telepathically.
“Why couldn’t I hear you before now? The other times I was here, all I could hear was whispering in a language I couldn’t understand. And, if I’m connected to you—Magic itself—why can’t I cast properly?”
An almost guilty look flashed across her face.
“My connection to your realm is fluctuating and also affecting you. Usually, when something like this happens, it’s caused by a natural disaster. But this time…” Guilt thoroughly washed over her face, and a horrible feeling took hold in the pit of my stomach. “I kind of… messed up.”
A confused, exasperated sound escaped my lips before I could stop myself.
“It just gets so boring watching you people!” she grumbled. “So, once every hundred years—give or take ten—I bless a random newborn by adding some of my power into their Magic pool, usually increasing its size.” She adopted a pensive look.
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Dhumavati—the Void, a self-proclaimed goddess—had just told me why the Void affinity existed.
Was it even right to call it an affinity? It’s a connection to… well, everything. But also nothing? The more I learned, the less I understood.
She continued, “The instant my Magic touched you, you drained it so quickly I couldn’t control it. I had to sever contact with you immediately, but I wasn’t quick enough. You took too much of my essence, increasing your Magic capacity beyond human levels. You have too much Magic for a human, while I have too little for a Goddess, which essentially threw the world’s Magic just a teensy little bit off balance.”
Once again, I was struck silent. All this time, I thought I was just unlucky or unfortunate. It turned out the real problem was that I was *too blessed. It was almost poetic.
“...” I couldn’t bring myself to say a word. Holding my tongue felt like the wisest decision at that moment. None of this felt real, after all.
“Goddess, the Void, I don’t care what you call me. The fact is, I’ve been here since the beginning. I’ve seen countless kingdoms rise and fall. Some worship me as a god, like your churches, while others study my power that courses through the land your people dwell on, believing the phenomenon to be natural.” Dhumavati looked at me again, her facial expression regal. “I am—for all intents and purposes—everything and nothing. A Goddess of all.”
She sure liked to hear herself talk.
As a poor commoner, I wasn’t allowed in the Church of Centuros, so I knew little about gods. Attendance required a mandatory monthly donation to the church, and if you couldn’t afford it, you weren’t allowed entry, and they treated you like you had the plague. I only know what I’ve heard priests and alms-seekers shout in the streets: that our souls are damned unless we beg for salvation. But that salvation came with a heavy price tag. One that very few from the Commoners’ Quarters could afford.
Still, I had heard the names of a few gods but not hers. This fact put me on edge, but there could be a goddess I’d never heard of, right? Many religions have come and gone throughout the centuries-long history of the Arcanum Collective. But that’s only written and recorded history, which dates back at least seven hundred years. Scholars believed the Arcanum Collective was once one kingdom rather than the five that occupy it nowadays.
“I’m too poor to attend the church services. Sorry, but I’ve never heard of you,” I said bluntly yet apologetically.
“...”
“...”
An uncomfortable silence filled the air. Then, after a bizarre moment, I started to feel nauseous and dizzy. So much so that if my feet were on the ground, I’d have doubled over. *Is it getting cold in here? I thought.
“Yeah. I figured.” Dhumavati looked devastated but also a little angry. “The last human that could perceive me pledged his loyalty and swore to make my name known through all the lands. But after building a small following for me, he and the group he founded were labeled heretics by the churches of old.”
“Heretics? But that would mean—”
She cut me off, saying, “Yep. They were wiped out. After about twenty years of slow, steady growth, they were labeled a cult of sacrilege and exterminated. Humans believe in many gods, but as far as I know, I’m the closest thing to a Deity this world has. I am Magic itself. Without me, there is no Magic in this world, and without Magic, there is no me. But so few have seen the truth that the world as a whole deemed the idea nonsense!”
“...Holy shit,” is the only thing I can say, but Dhumavati seems to know that this is a lot to process and waits for me to continue. “So… the church's teachings are all lies? They teach that each branch of magic is a gift from a different god. The Fire God, the Water God, the Earth God, the Wind God, and so on. All of that’s fake?” I may not have attended a service before, but they sure did love to preach in the Noble Realm’s opulent streets.
“Pretty much,” she answered matter-of-factly. “Every element of Magic originates from my being and vice-versa.”
I stood there processing in silence, opening and closing my mouth repeatedly like a fish out of water. I was at a complete loss for words. I’ve studied many books and tomes, looking for anything related to the Void. I had spent years studying for answers, and today, on my last day at the Academy, I was being assaulted with so many answers that I was at a loss. I felt a sense of vindication until I had a terrifying thought.
I realized I might be the only person who knew the truth. Knowing that most of the population believed in a false concept and worshipped false gods was a heavy feeling. Almost too heavy.
After a few minutes of being stared at by Dhumavati, I remembered where I was. “Okay. Okay.” I took a few deep breaths and continued, “So, why am I here, seeing you now? And does coming into contact with each other balance the world’s Magic again? Can I finally use Magic?!” I couldn’t help myself from getting riled up at the thought.
Can you blame me? I’d been searching for the answer that would let me for years!
“You can, but…”
She tapered off, looking conflicted. Figured there would be a catch.
Sweat beading her face, she continued, “As I said, your Magic pool is too large for a human. There is a way for you to control it, but we’d have to form a pact. A contract, if you will.”
Except I thought contracts with gods were folktales. Kaya used to tell me bedtime stories of heroes and the goddesses they serve in the name of justice, and so on.
“Like a deal?” I asked to be sure. I needed to be. I was still sort of skeptical about the events unfolding.
“In its simplest terms, yes,” she said. “But this comes with a stipulation.”
“A condition, yeah?” I asked, pondering for a moment. “If it means I can cast, I’ll accept whatever terms you set.”
Dhumvati beamed, looking like she didn’t expect me to agree. “The terms, then, are that you pledge your loyalty to me. Help me show the mortals below who truly gave them the gift of Magic.”
As absurd a request as this sounded, I agreed immediately. Dhumavati then held out her hand.
“Then, kneel and kiss the back of my hand.”
I complied, and the moment my lips touched her skin, I felt Magic surge through me.
My Magic.