Orphan At The Edge Of The World - 259 The Magician 17

The confused entity wore the body of a young man with ill ease. It had another shell out there in the ‘not-when’ but the slowly disintegrating soul They had encountered in the ‘not-anything’ had unintentionally gifted them a much better one. It was a body sculpted from the best balance of magic and martial training.

Its veins coursed with two useful and harmonized spiritual bloodlines that pooled in a second pseudo-soul, resting in the spiritual seat of the body’s mind. It was tough and resilient. Free of hidden injuries or toxins, it was as well conditioned as it could be. The myriad additional spiritual and essence connections would take time for the soul to adapt to and utilize but once it did, the reserves and speed of access would be immensely superior to the entity’s prepared shell.

A brief feeling of remorseful sympathy bloomed before being crushed under the assault of returning physical sensation. Tuning out the sensory overload, the entity scanned itself. The hair would shine like burnt copper dipped in fresh blood under the sun. The symmetry of bone, muscle and softer features held merely enough flaws not to be perceived as fake or uncanny to the faintly sensitive. It wasn’t the body of a human. It was the vessel of a predator that fed on human emotion, that reveled in taking pleasures or toying with human lives.

As the entity opened it’s eyes, the only feature similar to its prepared shell, Caribbean blue irises shown with faint luminescence. The eyes that were a small connection to the true soul that now possessed them, hid deeply in a multiple layered space within the vessel’s chest. A nesting doll of increasingly violent and alien folds of space lead to that soul, a small and black opalescent one.

Hidden still further within, a partially reformed tower withstood the powerful blasts of occasional chaos created lightening strikes. The broken power of those strikes, filtered and collected into seven layered domes, each attuned to a separate essence. A portion for the space, some for the soul and body but most for the desolate tower slowly mending itself and the profound laws within it.

They visually took in the small handful of people expelling gray and wet substances from every opening of their bodies. While doing so, They gathered what little memory and personality They owned, fitting it together like puzzle pieces. With a numb horror, the entity realized that the pieces of Their ‘old’ self They had taken in were to be the future core of worlds and the birthplace of the wills that governed them.

They muttered, “In the shadowy state I was in, just crossing the border would have erased me, much less chase pieces of me down… What was I?”

One of the recovering people, a touch better off than the rest answered, “I used to ask myself that question every day to remind me of what I lost and to not lose myself to what I had become. The only meaningful answer left after many years was that it doesn’t matter what you were. Who, what you are now and will be, are far more important.”

The speaker was a pink skinned and slightly demonic parody of vulgar femininity that was becoming more human looking and realistically proportioned by the moment. A bull beast-kin man stood up, displaying a few slightly unrealistic proportions of his own that weren’t going anywhere. Nearby, a panicked young cat beast-kin was cradling his head and trying to block sound as if it was too much for him.

The bull man plastered on a peaceful smile and offered a hand in greeting to the woman. “Hi, I’m Pete, male pros… performer.”

The woman smiled wryly and took the large hand. “Boca… and I have no room to judge people for their past. A pleasure to meet you, Pete.”

She turned to the entity wearing the red headed young man and added, “And you are?”

“In the process of trying to figure that out,” They answered.

Cole, who took on a touch of extra maturity while no one was watching, said with slight bitterness, “You’re Orison. You look and smell different but those things don’t matter to something like you anyway. Please heal my head… I feel like it’s going to start boiling or swell til it bursts my skull.”

It was the entity’s turn to smile wryly.

As They walked over to accommodate the request, They said, “I’m nearly as much a man named Piran as I am the Orison you knew. And far more, another whose memories are next to nonexistent. Just like you are mostly equally two different selves. But more the person you once were yet, have little recollection of. It is as much lie as truth to claim one over the rest.

“Call me Oscen or Sonny, if you like. Hearing either of those names that mean prayer evoke feelings of sadness I’d rather put behind me… If any of you would be so kind as to satisfy a little of my curiosity, how did any of you end up in my key’s shadow space with me?”

Cole and Pete looked lost but Boca smiled faintly and said, “I begged my former mistress for freedom. There were too many painful memories surrounding others under her rule and I had already worked off my spiritual debts. I think I was lost in a gray place for some time.

“A lady named Cat said that she could rescue me but I would have to pledge a debt to her patron. Had I known it was… I’m glad to have accepted. And as far as wanting to distance yourself from the past, I understand all too well. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Oscen.”

Pete said, “Sounds about the same as it was for me. Well, I wasn’t in a gray place, though. My wife was possessed by the ghost of this dead Draconos lady and I tried to follow her through some sort of crack in the air she threw herself through. “This is going to sound weird but I feel like I should know you. Your name, the old one you don’t like anymore, it tickles the back of my mind. Oh well. Looks like we could all use a do over. Put ‘er there, Sonny.”

The man put his meaty paw out for another hand shake. The young mage decided to make the best of things and took it. They wondered why there was a subtle feeling of guilt towards the man and chalked it up to the myriad of things They forgot.

Attempting to cover himself for modesty’s sake or to hide stirring interest caused by his covert ogling of Boca, Cole said, “Am I the only person who even cares that we’re… not decent?”

The other three looked each other over for a second and then a contagious chuckle started. It seemed that Cole really was the only one who cared. Due to life and environment, Pete and Boca had lost the meaning of the word shame from their personal dictionary. And as for Oscen, a body WAS clothing. Not that They had forgotten what it was for or stopped caring about such things altogether.

“I would conjure some but it would be made with shadow stuff. Once we step past the dark mist completely, it would lack enough power of existence to survive. If we’re fortunate, either there will be something available to use or the stuff my inner realm is about to regurgitate might have something we can make do with,” the young mage said reassuringly.

While they waited for the dark mist to slowly dissipate, Oscen had them talk among themselves and just listed. Each had their own place in the grand scheme and a story to tell. While They absorbed the information, the desolate realm released the items it didn’t want or couldn’t use that had been dredged on the group’s journey through the void to whatever destination the key could take them.

Oscen said, “This isn’t easy… The reason you could be picked up the way you were was because you are temporarily like myself. You have become cut loose from existence but not erased. Cole and Pete, for you two, it’s for the same reason. Boca, I don’t honestly know why you are.

“Osomo, the planet, was erased. It never existed. Cole, that time you spent on that egg shaped thing after being rescued from Sek. I know it didn’t seem like long but it happened BEFORE Osomo’s branches were cut from reality. That other short bit of life memories, it holds a key to climbing in it. You have a future if you want it.

You were place-marked by my key and no one was abandoning you. Everything else would only be excuses on why things didn’t happen the way they were supposed to. And now, even I don’t have answers to give.”

The feline young man only looked lost for a few seconds before he said, “What happened to everyone? Did they get erased too?”

“No. Their souls would have went elsewhere to live different lives. That’s it. They’re different people but they weren’t erased just because a world never happened,” They said reassuringly.

Boca said, “I think I know why I became what you’re suggesting. I was…and maybe still am, part of a greater being. A true outsider was born from me….my stuff-essence. I think that I can’t be unmade because they can’t be… I was only granted form and life again out of that being’s gratitude and pity but… I’m glad to exist.”

Cole laughed with a slight edge of hysteria. “It’s all so much… too much but maybe that’s okay. Boca, right? At least we can agree on that. My life was crap anyway… I’m glad to exist.”

Everyone turned to Pete.

The bull man had set down and looked like someone had cut his strings before he said, “I went along with everything on the small hope that I might see my boy again… Without that, what is there for me? I was a waste of a man but that boy was the one thing that gave my life any real meaning. the one and only redeeming thing I’ve done in my miserable life I didn’t hate myself for was trying to be a father.”

The bull man looked up at Oscen. “If I was willing to give anything, pay any price I was capable of paying, could you save my son?”

The young mage said, “He might not need saving… I won’t spend too much of my conduit’s power but I can look through you and see if I can sense the kid’s current life through you. It’s a long shot but-”

Pete begged Oscen with his eyes, desperate for something to give him strength.

The young mage placed a hand on the man’s head and felt Their intent slide in with nearly no resistance at all. It took next to no effort to find the boy’s current fate because the small spark of its protean soul was bound up in the bull man’s own. As soon as the mist cleared, the pressure of the reality the group would be stepping into would crush and fuse it back into Pete’s own.

They wanted to lie but found that They blurted out the truth when They tried. “He’s a part of your soul. I’m sure he’ll eventually be bor- fused back into it as soon as we step out of the mist.”

As Pete poured everything he had into trying to convince Oscen into helping him GIVE everything he had to his son, the scene froze. Keita stepped into the misty space beside someone who looked like an agreeable blend between Jay Cotton and Cray.

A ghostly figure constructed itself from the mist itself and said in Orison’s voice, “Absolutely diabolical. Did Piran even escape that b*****d? Pete would get me to weaken my conduit to save his son and that THING would have hooks in me because I took the Piran bate. You know what? It doesn’t matter. I know what I have to do now.”

Keita said, “Alright kiddo. That’s enough time buying, though. Most of the people you’ve helped have risen and fallen into different lives, forgetting you completely or have given up on waiting and moved on.”

Jay/Cray said, “This might be the last time I had to see you. Winter and I… you know that-”

The shadowy Orison raised Their hand. “The memories fade. Lives move on. I love you both and hope the two of you can can forgive ME for not being able to let go of my messiah complex.”

The archer smiled wryly. “I see that you started scraping the bottom of the barrel here. You even picked up one of Duran’s charity cases too.”

The ghostly Orison sighed. “Well, he’s a shared project. If I hadn’t picked Cole up, there’s too great a chance that the b*****d would before Duran could get to him.”

Keita chuckled darkly. “That insane corrupter and destroyer is more truly your grandparent than any mortal one could ever be. Being the cause of your total destruction and hounding your spiritual resurrection to oblivion is how they show Their love for you.”

Orison rolled Their ghostly eyes and said, “Yeah, yeah. I was a flying spaghetti monster that fell in love with the idea of being a people and the granddad didn’t approve… Hey, I’ve kept family tradition alive just fine. I’ve orchestrated the murder of my youngest sibling multiple times. Its not my fault Gramps Gnarly keeps forcing me to break the laws of causality, undoing my hard work.”

Keita released her anger under the effort of Orison’s forced joviality. “A literal key as your ‘key’ and a literal tower as your climber’s ‘tower’, could you get any more tongue in cheek?”

The ghostly young ‘ancient’ mage said, “A magician keeps the props simple in appearance to better fool and awe their audience with the complexity hidden within them.”

The obsidian elf shook her head in exasperation. “Blinding with brilliance and baffling with BS the whole way… I’ll use my avatar to take Pete someplace low dimensional enough for things to turn out well for him and help Cat find any possible stragglers. She didn’t have the courage to say it to your face but she’s retiring after that.

“It might only be a technicality but being more powerful than her boss is embarrassing for her. She was capable of becoming a pact patron herself a long time ago but stuck around to help out for sentimental reasons. I think she might have had a crush on you but that ship’s sailed a long time ago.”

Orison looked at her with mild surprise. “She’s awakened her domain?”

As she began fading from view, she said, “For nearly a human lifespan, her personal time. If you hadn’t been so greedy with the broadness of your concepts, you would have shocked everyone with your speed. Now, I think you’ll be lucky to even have a glimmer of a chance to become tier six at all.”

Orison said, “Oh no. My problem will be keeping the tower from forcing me to ascend faster than my concepts can keep up with. I’ve been dragging out my time in tier four, learning and absorbing as much law as I can because once I awaken that domain… If I don’t rise to the challenge, I’m done for in a way no one can help with.”

With a worried voice, she said, “Because of what you have become, I can’t see your future with the kaleidoscope anymore. Please… please be safe, as safe as you can be. We can’t reach you where you’re going next.”

Unable to physically embrace Their one time mother, they rested a chill and spectral hand on her cheek. “For better or worse, it’s time for us all to move on. Send my love to dad and tell him I’m sorry for being so unfilial.”

***

Al sat back in his chair, swigging a beer. He was careful to play out the last hour exactly as he had before. Although it was easy enough to keep up the act, the vein in his head that slightly wiggled with unnatural movements from time to time, as it weakened, were hard to ignore. It took some maneuvering to get Nomy back in his apartment and into the pile of his ex-wife’s stuff while making it seem perfectly natural to do so but he had.

As he sightlessly mashed buttons on one side with his knee and reached for Nomy with the other hand, he thought, “And the Oscar goes to…”

A half a second before the hermit would arrive to take Nomy from the ‘dead’ Al’s hands, the man made a miraculous recovery. And using the book with the Entanglement key, dragged the outer god larva nearly fully into reality before cutting it to metaphorical ribbons with Nomy. With a quarter second to spare, he merged with the spiritual shreds of Piran and sent all the goodies that got pulled into Al’s world with the ‘little brother’ , into an inner space.

As the old hermit appeared, the man was faced with a much different scenario that he thought he would. There were no traces of impossible geometries in the air. Nomy was on the verge of violent protest and the larval stage outer god corpse had been transformed into traditional Middle Eastern cuisine. Al lifted up a glass of aniseed tea and made a toasting gesture to the amused but slightly confused old man.

Al said, “Have at it. This is all for you. Nomy, it’s alright, you crazy awesome book. Your dinner will be returned to you in just a moment. I’m forcing some light reading on a few confused peeps first… And there you go, two book shaped conduits for your dining pleasures.”

Pleasantries had been put on hold while the old man and the living book dug in like they were starved.

Once the miasma conjured delicacies were polished off, including the fabricated decorations and tableware, the old man turned to Al. “All right. Color me impressed and sufficiently bribed. What do you want?”

Al gave the old man a saintly smile and said, “A fresh start on the largest piece of me that still exists. And… thank you/shame on you and Nodens both for convincing a naive little flying spaghetti monster into running away from the family demolition business.”

The hermit snorted. “You’re not strong enough to reclaim it, now. It’s a fully developed reality with powerful protectors and a healthy ‘will’. You’d only wound it some before you got kicked out or destroyed.”

Al laughed. “I’m not going there to wreck the place… much… I’m going there to learn.”