It’s been a while since the alarm has actually waken me up. Most of the time I am just awake before the thing even rings! Today though, the loud tones of some anime from ten years ago force me to get right out of Dreamland. I can’t remember the details exactly, everything feels fuzzy but… I am sure Venus was there. Watching me, disappointed and hurt, arms crossed and everything! I… I am so sorry...
“Focus, focus. It was just a dream.”
Checking my phone, I soon realize it’s 7 in the morning. I forgot to disable the damn alarm yesterday, considering I’m on vacation… with a sigh, I lie back down to get ready to sleep again.
But then the damn knocking starts.
Knock knock knock.
It wasn’t even a patient knock, it was rushed and annoying, as if the person had been knocking the door for hours already and was at their wit’s edge or something.
Who the hell could be knocking the door this early in the day?
“Venus?”
I flinch when that name pops up in my brain. No more, please. I already humiliated myself enough last night.
“Then it’s probably Mustafá.”
What!? This early in the damn morning? It can’t be her. She can’t just expect me to wake up this early on vacation, can she?
Knock knock knock.
Whoever it is, they're clearly not going to stop bothering me… so with a sigh, I finally get up the bed and trudge my way through the hallway, through the living room and over to the front door, checking through the peephole.
It’s Mustafá. I hate my life.
“I know you are there now.” She says, staring right at me. “Open up. It’s late.”
With a groan I open the door and glare at this woman. She behaves as if I was a little kid or something, she’s smaller than me!
“What do you mean ‘late’? It’s seven in the damn morning!” My anger knows no bounds.
“Don’t yell, you’ll wake up the neighbors.” She says, not even blinking.
That actually gets me to shut up and cover my mouth. God damn it, I didn’t think of it. Mustafá takes the chance to immediately walk into my home and go straight for the kitchen. With a frown, I close the door again and follow. The crazy woman is putting water in the electric kettle.
“Where’s the bread?” Those golden orbs look at me, shocked to find nothing in my pantry.
“There’s none. Where do you want me to get bread at 7 in the morning?” I can’t help but feel a little indignant.
“You buy bread daily, right? The leftover bread from one day is used in breakfast for the next.” My embarrassed silence gets her to shake her head and rub her temples. “You must have breakfast. It’s the most important meal of the day.”
“That’s a lie from the cereal corporations!” I cross my arms. Honestly, all this woman has been doing is pointing out my lack of experience with life, what is her deal!?
“Shut up. We are buying bread, and that’s final.” Mustafá passes by me again, walking into the living room and taking a seat by the table.
“What!? There’s— It’s seven in the morning!” I really want to pull out my hair at this point.
“Not in Obuda.” She says, matter of factly.
“The capital of the saints damned Magyar Empire!? That’s on the other side of the world! How would we— oh right, magic.” With a sigh, I decide to simply stop complaining. Honestly, the idea of teleporting to the other side of Jericho… okay, I admit it, that’s actually really cool!
“Teleportation is an unpleasant but important part of life as a mage.” She honestly didn’t look very enthused with the prospect. “Bring forth your computer and open a conversation with me.”
In a matter of minutes I am dressing myself, taking a moment to clean myself before getting an old anime t-shirt, a black hoodie and baggy pants, my last pieces of ironed clothes. As I work through them I can’t help but wonder, how does teleportation work here? Will she command the computer to perform a new, secret function? Or maybe she will use a complex mix of glyphs…
Soon enough, my computer is back on the table and I send a “sup” message to Mustafá’s computer. I also brought a pen and my trusty notepad, to take notes of everything this woman is about to do. The mage sighs, cracking her knuckles and suddenly snatching my pencil hand, holding it tightly.
“This will be my first demonstration on how to travel through the Layers of Reality. Pay attention and take notes later.”
I can’t help pouting but I nod. Then, without letting go of my hand, her lips move at such a speed I can’t follow at all, much less understand what she’s saying. I assume she’s saying something in The Language, a powerful incantation… It is so funny to think that she barely understands what she’s saying. She knows the result she will obtain but, truth is, she has no idea of the nuances…
“Don’t get so smug.”
I know, I know…
A flash of light very suddenly consumes it all. When it eventually fades, the world has adopted this blue hue once again. It's honestly kind of obnoxious, and chilling, especially now that I have the time to actually pay attention to it all.
“So this is the so-called ‘Second Layer’, yes?” My eyes check everything around, but it really doesn’t look that different than usual. It’s just the world, but blue. The same old ugly pieces of furniture, the same ugly walls, the same stained ceiling, all infected with that dark and cold hue.
“Nay. This is but a tiny, pocket demiplane I carry with myself.” Mustafá shrugged.
I don’t even manage to complain when suddenly the walls around me begin to crack. The objects become blurry, that blue hue becomes darker and even colder as my eyes widen, and by mere instinct I look at my own body. It is vibrating, vibrating so fast that the form itself becomes smoke. Until I am nothing but a cloud, a shiny wisp, trembling and turning around itself while letting out a panicked shriek.
“OH MY SAINTS! Oh my saints. Oh. My. Saints.” I can feel my form vibrate, shift and change, and it does not help with my panic in the slightest.
“Calm down.” Mustafá keeps so serene despite it all… She is also a wisp, a white wisp, but somehow she still holds the form of a person… She is like a white shade of herself.
I don’t even know how I am still perceiving reality, for I have no eyes or ears! I am but a purple wisp of pure energy, floating in a purple void where we can barely understand the forms of objects, places, anything!
“Focus. If you lose your shape completely, you will be pushed down and back to the realm of Physicality.” Her voice vibrates, it is like listening to someone speaking into a ventilator. “Imagine your own body.”
“Okay! Okay. My own body, my own body. Nothing to worry about just, gotta imagine myself.” I slowly turn into a more solid cloud as I try to calm down. To collect myself.
Alright, myself, myself. I am…
“Fat. Ugly. Disgusting. Misshapen. Hard to look at.”
…
“You are trembling and losing even more form. What is going on?” Mustafá just stares at me as my everything was spreading into space.
“I can’t.” I blurt out.
“What.” She seems incredulous.
“I can’t imagine myself.” I really feel like I would burst out crying if I still had eyes.
“Why.” She tilts her head to the side.
“I just… whenever I try, I just feel disgusted..” My everything is shaking.
“This is not the moment for deep psychological trauma.” How does she say such things with a straight face, I don’t know.
“We are just going for bread anyways, why does it matter so much!? Can’t you just go alone!?” It’s a cope out, I know, but it’s the one answer I reach.
Mustafá looks down and thinks for a moment. I can’t read her expressions in this form, honestly she reminds me a little bit of the state Humiko was on when I saw her in Limbo…
“Idealize yourself, then.” She says, all of a sudden.
“What?” My body stops trembling.
“Give yourself whatever form you want to have right now.” Mustafá shrugged. “Just try to imagine it. Keep it personal.”
Whatever form I want… No more ugly hands, no more uncomfortable weight? No more unhealthy skin and hair that has been neglected for so long? That. That actually sounds really nice.
“Oh boy, here we go…”
I try to breathe in deeply, only to remember I no longer have lungs. To idealize myself… I said I would try and give in to these so-called ‘delusions’ that have been floating on my mind lately. My whole being trembles for a moment, spreading, shifting, growing and shrinking for an instant, as I try to first imitate Mustafá’s shape as a reference. Petite and short, long hair in braids…
Then, I start shifting again. Why do I have to simply conform with reality!? I grow bigger, taller, voluptuous! My hair long and flowing, my shape so feminine, so perfected, like a marble statue! But then… I feel self conscious. What am I even doing, making something so grandiose? No, I’ve never wanted to be ‘gorgeous’ or anything close to that. I just want to feel comfortable in my own skin, no need to be greedy…
I shrink, just a little bit. I try to guide myself with Venus' form now, my hips are marked but my curves are modest. My hair remains long and curly though, that I don’t want to let go of for anything in the world, I’ve always wanted good hair.
I don’t have eyes to see, and yet I am aware of my form. It’s feminine, yes… but it feels more “me” than my actual body…
I, I could really get used to this.
“Alright, seems like you got the hang of it. Stop messing with your form.” Mustafá scolds me with a finger before reaching out to the objects around us. Particularly the blurry shape of my computer.
The screen becomes much clearer when she touches it with her fingers.
“I will exploit the connection this computer has to mine, to access it from afar. It’s a very complicated feat of technomancy, but one you’ll have to master eventually.” Her explanation is shallow at best but, I get the gist of it.
“Is this what you did when you invaded my computer yesterday?” I walk a little closer to watch.
“Yes. But my computer is much better protected than yours. I can only do this because I know the password.” Mustafá seems so smug right now, even without expressions on her face. I hate that.
My computer’s screen turns jet black, and with the touch of a finger she slowly begins writing the same rune I saw yesterday.
Hey, I know that symbol. It’s the one I tried to find on the internet the other day, before all of this!
“What does that one mean?” I said, leaning a little closer to the screen.
“You know I don’t know what they mean.” Mustafá says, probably feeling a little self-conscious about it. “But what it does, that I know. It creates energy, it represents movement unimpeded.”
I try to take note of that… but now I realize I don’t know where my pen and my notepad are.
The moment I think about them, part of my being moves and creates silhouettes, the shapes of my notebook and my pen. Are these… made of the same thing I am? Are they part of me now?
“Is this like that one movie, where that one guy tried to teleport and a Fly moved in the teleporting device, and his being got scrambled with the fly’s?” I say, feeling fear once again trying to overtake me.
“Yes and no.” Mustafá doesn’t seem worried. “When our atoms re-allocate themselves, the ones belonging to objects will be immediately separated from the ones belonging to living beings. The possibility of contamination is, however, very real between living beings.”
“Weren’t you holding my hand when we started!?” I almost lose form from the mere panic.
“I am an exception.” Mustafá doesn’t share my concerns.
What.
“Why the Hell are you an exception!?” I really feel like I could strangle her now.
She doesn’t even answer me. Hells, she doesn’t even look at me. She keeps focusing on the computer while I huff and cross my arms again.
Soon enough the glyphs are written on my computer, and a swirling vortex of blue appears on my screen. Mustafá doesn’t even say anything, she just jumps right into the portal and disappears. The shiny smoke that is her being swirls and spins over and over, mixing with the magic of the portal until totally disappearing in it, dissolved in the light.
“Alright then… let’s do this. What’s the worst that could happen?”
“You could break yourself into pieces and be spread through the space between Wohl and the Magyar Empire.”
Gulp.
“Just. Hold on to yourself, tightly. And jump. She wouldn’t try to kill you after all that has happened!”
“You sound awfully convinced of that. Are you sure?”
“N-Not really but, let’s hope!”
I try to sigh, but I feel no air flowing. This only raises questions as to how I’ve been communicating all this time, but I try not to think about it as I hug myself and jump into the portal.
I can’t even see what happens, everything is colour and motion, to the point where I have to focus and somehow close my perception of everything to avoid getting sick. Why do I still have biological reactions such as ‘getting sick’? I feel like maybe my brain is just clinging to the things it knows in the face of this unknowable mess. So let’s just say I ‘close my mind’s eye’ here.
Everything is darkness. I am still moving, sliding on an impossibly long slide, but even while I keep myself blind, I perceive something. A river of light, far away from me, spreading and encroaching around Jericho like gigantic veins. It’s… beautiful, like stars flowing slowly around my planet…
Eventually I stop moving. I open my mind’s eye once more, only to find myself in the middle of a room. Is this the Magyar Empire? I think. Again, all physical things are blurry except for the screen of this gigantic computer I just entered through, and everything is tainted with this bothersome blue hue. Mustafá’s smokey silhouette is waiting for me, standing arms crossed in the middle of it all.
“Good, you survived.” The mage said with a nod.
“There was a chance I wouldn’t!?” I bite down on my lips for a moment, this woman will be the end of me.
“Always. But it’s so low it’s not relevant.” She shrugs.
“What?!” I am practically growling at this point.
“Now. Focus again, try to spread yourself. Like a mantle covering it all. Lose your form.” She raises a single finger.
The things this woman asks of me are always ludicrous and oddly spiritual! I hate it so much I simply can’t put it into words! But, I do as she says. I close my eyes, and try to imagine myself spreading more, and more, stretching wider and wider. Until suddenly–
Pop.
My eyes, my actual eyes, open once again. I take a huge, deep breath and fall to my knees, suddenly feeling so disoriented I just want to puke. I even cough a few times before actually managing to keep my not-breakfast in me. At least I am holding my notebook and my pen, and haven’t suddenly transformed into a strange, paper-based monster or anything.
… Why do I still feel like a monster then…?
I shake my head. No, no no no. Don’t let that thought win, focus!
Looking around, I see a gray room with a big bed, an old computer, a miniscule window and a few bookshelves… it’s, honestly similar to mine, in a way that actually makes me feel a little comfortable. Very simple, functional, a little too orderly but still! Similar enough! Oh, and a water tank! As soon as I can stand up, I walk to the tank and look inside. I see two little critters, hermit crabs? Immobile and partially hidden on their colourful, vibrant shells. Sleeping, probably.
So she keeps pets? That’s nice to know, maybe she’s not completely heartless.
“Don’t bother them.”
Mustafá is suddenly standing by my side. She grabs me by the collar of my shirt and pulls me aside.
“That means no yelling. No loud complaints, they are very sensible to loud noises.” The woman shakes a finger in front of me, nagging me already?
“So I am, but you don’t see me bragging about it…” I pouted.
“Put this on and follow me. We are going for bread.”
The mage gives me a leather strip. Looking at it closer, I can see a glyph engraved in it, with runes I have never seen… then, looking at it from afar, this is a dog collar.
What.
It even has a damn bone medal on it. I can’t help but feel a little… you know, flustered and bothered by this?
“Did… did it have to be a dog collar?” I do my best not to yell.
“No. But I didn’t have anything else prepared. This is the one translation spell I have.” She shrugs again.
“Do I actually have to wear this?” I beg.
“Do you know Magyaran?” She doesn’t even turn to look at me.
“No…”
Mustafá doesn’t even answer anymore, just walks over to the one door in her room and waits for me to join her.
Sigh…
I guess we are doing this now.
But… wait… urgh…
My body… now that I’ve stopped complaining and I’ve given myself a moment, I can feel it even more than before. The collar squeezing my neck, I must look so ridiculous. Urgh, everything feels so wrong now.
“This is why we don’t indulge in delusion. Reality always returns for you.”
I take my hands over to my face as we walk. It feels wrong. Everything feels wrong. The hairs feel disgusting, the shape feels repulsive… it’s like someone else’s face, somehow stuck in my body.
Not to even mention the hairs on my hands… I still remember how once a person said I had nice, feminine hands when I was younger. I have no idea why but, that had been the most impactful compliment I ever received… now to see all those things gone thanks to the passing of time and the destructive coming of puberty? Urgh…
I feel like I want to vomit. But no, I need to be strong. I need to keep calm.
Don’t make a scene. Just follow Mustafá.
It’s been a while since the alarm has actually waken me up. Most of the time I am just awake before the thing even rings! Today though, the loud tones of some anime from ten years ago force me to get right out of Dreamland. I can’t remember the details exactly, everything feels fuzzy but… I am sure Venus was there. Watching me, disappointed and hurt, arms crossed and everything! I… I am so sorry...
“Focus, focus. It was just a dream.”
Checking my phone, I soon realize it’s 7 in the morning. I forgot to disable the damn alarm yesterday, considering I’m on vacation… with a sigh, I lie back down to get ready to sleep again.
But then the damn knocking starts.
Knock knock knock.
It wasn’t even a patient knock, it was rushed and annoying, as if the person had been knocking the door for hours already and was at their wit’s edge or something.
Who the hell could be knocking the door this early in the day?
“Venus?”
I flinch when that name pops up in my brain. No more, please. I already humiliated myself enough last night.
“Then it’s probably Mustafá.”
What!? This early in the damn morning? It can’t be her. She can’t just expect me to wake up this early on vacation, can she?
Knock knock knock.
Whoever it is, they're clearly not going to stop bothering me… so with a sigh, I finally get up the bed and trudge my way through the hallway, through the living room and over to the front door, checking through the peephole.
It’s Mustafá. I hate my life.
“I know you are there now.” She says, staring right at me. “Open up. It’s late.”
With a groan I open the door and glare at this woman. She behaves as if I was a little kid or something, she’s smaller than me!
“What do you mean ‘late’? It’s seven in the damn morning!” My anger knows no bounds.
“Don’t yell, you’ll wake up the neighbors.” She says, not even blinking.
That actually gets me to shut up and cover my mouth. God damn it, I didn’t think of it. Mustafá takes the chance to immediately walk into my home and go straight for the kitchen. With a frown, I close the door again and follow. The crazy woman is putting water in the electric kettle.
“Where’s the bread?” Those golden orbs look at me, shocked to find nothing in my pantry.
“There’s none. Where do you want me to get bread at 7 in the morning?” I can’t help but feel a little indignant.
“You buy bread daily, right? The leftover bread from one day is used in breakfast for the next.” My embarrassed silence gets her to shake her head and rub her temples. “You must have breakfast. It’s the most important meal of the day.”
“That’s a lie from the cereal corporations!” I cross my arms. Honestly, all this woman has been doing is pointing out my lack of experience with life, what is her deal!?
“Shut up. We are buying bread, and that’s final.” Mustafá passes by me again, walking into the living room and taking a seat by the table.
“What!? There’s— It’s seven in the morning!” I really want to pull out my hair at this point.
“Not in Obuda.” She says, matter of factly.
“The capital of the saints damned Magyar Empire!? That’s on the other side of the world! How would we— oh right, magic.” With a sigh, I decide to simply stop complaining. Honestly, the idea of teleporting to the other side of Jericho… okay, I admit it, that’s actually really cool!
“Teleportation is an unpleasant but important part of life as a mage.” She honestly didn’t look very enthused with the prospect. “Bring forth your computer and open a conversation with me.”
In a matter of minutes I am dressing myself, taking a moment to clean myself before getting an old anime t-shirt, a black hoodie and baggy pants, my last pieces of ironed clothes. As I work through them I can’t help but wonder, how does teleportation work here? Will she command the computer to perform a new, secret function? Or maybe she will use a complex mix of glyphs…
Soon enough, my computer is back on the table and I send a “sup” message to Mustafá’s computer. I also brought a pen and my trusty notepad, to take notes of everything this woman is about to do. The mage sighs, cracking her knuckles and suddenly snatching my pencil hand, holding it tightly.
“This will be my first demonstration on how to travel through the Layers of Reality. Pay attention and take notes later.”
I can’t help pouting but I nod. Then, without letting go of my hand, her lips move at such a speed I can’t follow at all, much less understand what she’s saying. I assume she’s saying something in The Language, a powerful incantation… It is so funny to think that she barely understands what she’s saying. She knows the result she will obtain but, truth is, she has no idea of the nuances…
“Don’t get so smug.”
I know, I know…
A flash of light very suddenly consumes it all. When it eventually fades, the world has adopted this blue hue once again. It's honestly kind of obnoxious, and chilling, especially now that I have the time to actually pay attention to it all.
“So this is the so-called ‘Second Layer’, yes?” My eyes check everything around, but it really doesn’t look that different than usual. It’s just the world, but blue. The same old ugly pieces of furniture, the same ugly walls, the same stained ceiling, all infected with that dark and cold hue.
“Nay. This is but a tiny, pocket demiplane I carry with myself.” Mustafá shrugged.
I don’t even manage to complain when suddenly the walls around me begin to crack. The objects become blurry, that blue hue becomes darker and even colder as my eyes widen, and by mere instinct I look at my own body. It is vibrating, vibrating so fast that the form itself becomes smoke. Until I am nothing but a cloud, a shiny wisp, trembling and turning around itself while letting out a panicked shriek.
“OH MY SAINTS! Oh my saints. Oh. My. Saints.” I can feel my form vibrate, shift and change, and it does not help with my panic in the slightest.
“Calm down.” Mustafá keeps so serene despite it all… She is also a wisp, a white wisp, but somehow she still holds the form of a person… She is like a white shade of herself.
I don’t even know how I am still perceiving reality, for I have no eyes or ears! I am but a purple wisp of pure energy, floating in a purple void where we can barely understand the forms of objects, places, anything!
“Focus. If you lose your shape completely, you will be pushed down and back to the realm of Physicality.” Her voice vibrates, it is like listening to someone speaking into a ventilator. “Imagine your own body.”
“Okay! Okay. My own body, my own body. Nothing to worry about just, gotta imagine myself.” I slowly turn into a more solid cloud as I try to calm down. To collect myself.
Alright, myself, myself. I am…
“Fat. Ugly. Disgusting. Misshapen. Hard to look at.”
…
“You are trembling and losing even more form. What is going on?” Mustafá just stares at me as my everything was spreading into space.
“I can’t.” I blurt out.
“What.” She seems incredulous.
“I can’t imagine myself.” I really feel like I would burst out crying if I still had eyes.
“Why.” She tilts her head to the side.
“I just… whenever I try, I just feel disgusted..” My everything is shaking.
“This is not the moment for deep psychological trauma.” How does she say such things with a straight face, I don’t know.
“We are just going for bread anyways, why does it matter so much!? Can’t you just go alone!?” It’s a cope out, I know, but it’s the one answer I reach.
Mustafá looks down and thinks for a moment. I can’t read her expressions in this form, honestly she reminds me a little bit of the state Humiko was on when I saw her in Limbo…
“Idealize yourself, then.” She says, all of a sudden.
“What?” My body stops trembling.
“Give yourself whatever form you want to have right now.” Mustafá shrugged. “Just try to imagine it. Keep it personal.”
Whatever form I want… No more ugly hands, no more uncomfortable weight? No more unhealthy skin and hair that has been neglected for so long? That. That actually sounds really nice.
“Oh boy, here we go…”
I try to breathe in deeply, only to remember I no longer have lungs. To idealize myself… I said I would try and give in to these so-called ‘delusions’ that have been floating on my mind lately. My whole being trembles for a moment, spreading, shifting, growing and shrinking for an instant, as I try to first imitate Mustafá’s shape as a reference. Petite and short, long hair in braids…
Then, I start shifting again. Why do I have to simply conform with reality!? I grow bigger, taller, voluptuous! My hair long and flowing, my shape so feminine, so perfected, like a marble statue! But then… I feel self conscious. What am I even doing, making something so grandiose? No, I’ve never wanted to be ‘gorgeous’ or anything close to that. I just want to feel comfortable in my own skin, no need to be greedy…
I shrink, just a little bit. I try to guide myself with Venus' form now, my hips are marked but my curves are modest. My hair remains long and curly though, that I don’t want to let go of for anything in the world, I’ve always wanted good hair.
I don’t have eyes to see, and yet I am aware of my form. It’s feminine, yes… but it feels more “me” than my actual body…
I, I could really get used to this.
“Alright, seems like you got the hang of it. Stop messing with your form.” Mustafá scolds me with a finger before reaching out to the objects around us. Particularly the blurry shape of my computer.
The screen becomes much clearer when she touches it with her fingers.
“I will exploit the connection this computer has to mine, to access it from afar. It’s a very complicated feat of technomancy, but one you’ll have to master eventually.” Her explanation is shallow at best but, I get the gist of it.
“Is this what you did when you invaded my computer yesterday?” I walk a little closer to watch.
“Yes. But my computer is much better protected than yours. I can only do this because I know the password.” Mustafá seems so smug right now, even without expressions on her face. I hate that.
My computer’s screen turns jet black, and with the touch of a finger she slowly begins writing the same rune I saw yesterday.
Hey, I know that symbol. It’s the one I tried to find on the internet the other day, before all of this!
“What does that one mean?” I said, leaning a little closer to the screen.
“You know I don’t know what they mean.” Mustafá says, probably feeling a little self-conscious about it. “But what it does, that I know. It creates energy, it represents movement unimpeded.”
I try to take note of that… but now I realize I don’t know where my pen and my notepad are.
The moment I think about them, part of my being moves and creates silhouettes, the shapes of my notebook and my pen. Are these… made of the same thing I am? Are they part of me now?
“Is this like that one movie, where that one guy tried to teleport and a Fly moved in the teleporting device, and his being got scrambled with the fly’s?” I say, feeling fear once again trying to overtake me.
“Yes and no.” Mustafá doesn’t seem worried. “When our atoms re-allocate themselves, the ones belonging to objects will be immediately separated from the ones belonging to living beings. The possibility of contamination is, however, very real between living beings.”
“Weren’t you holding my hand when we started!?” I almost lose form from the mere panic.
“I am an exception.” Mustafá doesn’t share my concerns.
What.
“Why the Hell are you an exception!?” I really feel like I could strangle her now.
She doesn’t even answer me. Hells, she doesn’t even look at me. She keeps focusing on the computer while I huff and cross my arms again.
Soon enough the glyphs are written on my computer, and a swirling vortex of blue appears on my screen. Mustafá doesn’t even say anything, she just jumps right into the portal and disappears. The shiny smoke that is her being swirls and spins over and over, mixing with the magic of the portal until totally disappearing in it, dissolved in the light.
“Alright then… let’s do this. What’s the worst that could happen?”
“You could break yourself into pieces and be spread through the space between Wohl and the Magyar Empire.”
Gulp.
“Just. Hold on to yourself, tightly. And jump. She wouldn’t try to kill you after all that has happened!”
“You sound awfully convinced of that. Are you sure?”
“N-Not really but, let’s hope!”
I try to sigh, but I feel no air flowing. This only raises questions as to how I’ve been communicating all this time, but I try not to think about it as I hug myself and jump into the portal.
I can’t even see what happens, everything is colour and motion, to the point where I have to focus and somehow close my perception of everything to avoid getting sick. Why do I still have biological reactions such as ‘getting sick’? I feel like maybe my brain is just clinging to the things it knows in the face of this unknowable mess. So let’s just say I ‘close my mind’s eye’ here.
Everything is darkness. I am still moving, sliding on an impossibly long slide, but even while I keep myself blind, I perceive something. A river of light, far away from me, spreading and encroaching around Jericho like gigantic veins. It’s… beautiful, like stars flowing slowly around my planet…
Eventually I stop moving. I open my mind’s eye once more, only to find myself in the middle of a room. Is this the Magyar Empire? I think. Again, all physical things are blurry except for the screen of this gigantic computer I just entered through, and everything is tainted with this bothersome blue hue. Mustafá’s smokey silhouette is waiting for me, standing arms crossed in the middle of it all.
“Good, you survived.” The mage said with a nod.
“There was a chance I wouldn’t!?” I bite down on my lips for a moment, this woman will be the end of me.
“Always. But it’s so low it’s not relevant.” She shrugs.
“What?!” I am practically growling at this point.
“Now. Focus again, try to spread yourself. Like a mantle covering it all. Lose your form.” She raises a single finger.
The things this woman asks of me are always ludicrous and oddly spiritual! I hate it so much I simply can’t put it into words! But, I do as she says. I close my eyes, and try to imagine myself spreading more, and more, stretching wider and wider. Until suddenly–
Pop.
My eyes, my actual eyes, open once again. I take a huge, deep breath and fall to my knees, suddenly feeling so disoriented I just want to puke. I even cough a few times before actually managing to keep my not-breakfast in me. At least I am holding my notebook and my pen, and haven’t suddenly transformed into a strange, paper-based monster or anything.
… Why do I still feel like a monster then…?
I shake my head. No, no no no. Don’t let that thought win, focus!
Looking around, I see a gray room with a big bed, an old computer, a miniscule window and a few bookshelves… it’s, honestly similar to mine, in a way that actually makes me feel a little comfortable. Very simple, functional, a little too orderly but still! Similar enough! Oh, and a water tank! As soon as I can stand up, I walk to the tank and look inside. I see two little critters, hermit crabs? Immobile and partially hidden on their colourful, vibrant shells. Sleeping, probably.
So she keeps pets? That’s nice to know, maybe she’s not completely heartless.
“Don’t bother them.”
Mustafá is suddenly standing by my side. She grabs me by the collar of my shirt and pulls me aside.
“That means no yelling. No loud complaints, they are very sensible to loud noises.” The woman shakes a finger in front of me, nagging me already?
“So I am, but you don’t see me bragging about it…” I pouted.
“Put this on and follow me. We are going for bread.”
The mage gives me a leather strip. Looking at it closer, I can see a glyph engraved in it, with runes I have never seen… then, looking at it from afar, this is a dog collar.
What.
It even has a damn bone medal on it. I can’t help but feel a little… you know, flustered and bothered by this?
“Did… did it have to be a dog collar?” I do my best not to yell.
“No. But I didn’t have anything else prepared. This is the one translation spell I have.” She shrugs again.
“Do I actually have to wear this?” I beg.
“Do you know Magyaran?” She doesn’t even turn to look at me.
“No…”
Mustafá doesn’t even answer anymore, just walks over to the one door in her room and waits for me to join her.
Sigh…
I guess we are doing this now.
But… wait… urgh…
My body… now that I’ve stopped complaining and I’ve given myself a moment, I can feel it even more than before. The collar squeezing my neck, I must look so ridiculous. Urgh, everything feels so wrong now.
“This is why we don’t indulge in delusion. Reality always returns for you.”
I take my hands over to my face as we walk. It feels wrong. Everything feels wrong. The hairs feel disgusting, the shape feels repulsive… it’s like someone else’s face, somehow stuck in my body.
Not to even mention the hairs on my hands… I still remember how once a person said I had nice, feminine hands when I was younger. I have no idea why but, that had been the most impactful compliment I ever received… now to see all those things gone thanks to the passing of time and the destructive coming of puberty? Urgh…
I feel like I want to vomit. But no, I need to be strong. I need to keep calm.
Don’t make a scene. Just follow Mustafá.
