3.44 Forgetable (Patreon)

Difference: Small

Selene dared a glance behind. She knew exactly what she would find, yet dared still hope in the opposite.

◉ The eye was there.

She flinched and kept running, ahead and ahead, across the sprawling infinity. Time and Fate were dead, but her Soul was not so easy to erase. It shone like a beacon, defiant to the all-consuming darkness.

◉ The eye watched her. No matter where she looked, Selene saw it.

“LEAVE ME BE!” she screamed but the eye showed no sign of intellect.

She understood why. The eye was not just a spell, it was a representation. It was a scar left behind when reality was forced to bend out of shape - the outline of usurpation. That was a Truth: The natural order of reality twisted out of shape, then replaced.

Time was no more. That she could still perceive a semblance of it was an extension of her own domain mimicking it in her perceived need for its passage. But a lie was all it was. Whether she spent subjective eons or minutes, the eye was always going to do what it was meant to: Turn all to Nothing. Struggle before that was futile.

Still, what was she supposed to do? Just lie down and die? She refused, and so she ran, because as long as she was in motion, as long as she denied the inevitability of it, the conclusion was not yet reached.

◉ The eye never stopped watching.

Selene bit her lip and began pacing instead of outright running. She had hoped that fleeing would at least earn her a moment of mental respite from the gaze’s influence. That had clearly been wrong as no matter where she looked it would always be there. She needed to think. To analyze. She had survived tremendous trials before, this was just another one.

Her greatest source of hope was that she was likely collateral damage, as absurd as it sounded. She was certain that the power before her was a Truth and Void in origin. Rumor had it that the Duke possessed a Truth ocular in nature and with his daughter there…

The Shadow cringed at the memory of her failure. There would be consequences for that - especially if the boy died in the same way she yet might. It would do her no good to ponder that for the moment. No, survival came first. For that, she needed to better understand what she even could do.

She was not the main target. Whatever had happened it had been instantaneous. Even the Duke would not have the liberty to fully distinguish ally from foe when trying to protect his daughter possibly split second from death. That did not mean she bore the full weight - proven by the fact she had not been erased instantaneously.

Therefore, Selene did not need to survive a Truth trying to kill her. She just needed to weather being caught up in one. She was a Shadow of House Blackburg, her liege would recognize her, if not as decisively as his own descendant. ‘When’ a semblance of Time existed again the Duke would spare her. She was sure of it. All she needed was to make it through the initial burst. 

◉   ◉ ◉   ◉      ◉   ◉ ◉ ◉        ◉   ◉  ◉      

Selene jumped, feeling the eye as if suddenly in every direction and more. Watching her from impossible angles that had never existed. Was it getting worse? She began to pace faster and the sensation seemed to recede.

Time was gone, Fate severed. She did not possess the power to reinstate those, nor the raw might to resist the same being imposed on her. Her only island of respite was her domain. All else she would need to let go.

The ◉ eye ◉ stared. She felt her body start gradually unraveling and decided not to fight a futile battle for its survival - it was a construct of Life. Selene was her Soul, not her flesh. Directions were melting away even in the limited perceived space around her, she let them. Fate… Fate had been gone from the moment the eye first opened, much like all the other elements. Unlike with Time, her nature was not so tightly bound with Fate as to temporarily maintain it ‘around’ herself.

Soon enough, all that remained was her Soul. Her domain refused to bend. The eye demanded there was nothing, her domain declared there was a Soul. A hopelessly one-sided battle in a vacuum but the eye was not fighting just her but all of reality. Selene was not defying the eye, she was merely tipping the scale in reality’s favor for what it was worth.

Her innermost essence kept pacing. Stillness was death. Ceasing was to submit to the conclusion. Pausing would mean the eye SAW NOTHING AT ALL. That was the key. The eye would see nothing at all before it left. She could not stop it, Fate could not be subverted post-mortem. Neither could Selene outlast it without Time. She would have to bend it so that she fit into that nothing without dying in the process.

Her body would not survive, she had accepted that. If her Soul could make it to the other side a new vessel could be made easily enough as long as her domain would keep her from death. She just needed to not die. She just needed to not die. No matter the cost, she would not flinch.

The eye glanced at h◉er again. It was aggravating, the way she could see it despite not having her own eyes anymore… or did she? Eye, eye, eye… the impression was clear. The organ was important for the magic. It had to be. And while Selen no longer had a body of flesh, she had not abandoned her sight.

As she paced her essence reached up. Even disembodied she was too attached to her human form not to maintain it. Perhaps that was a weakness. She knew power could be found in sacrifice for all she had been unwilling to practice such herself. But what choice did she have? To survive she saw a clear first step to take:

She tore sight from her Soul with a surgeon’s precision. The very concept of her eyes, all it cut out with exacting accuracy. Selene was no butcher as to mutilate herself with anything less than perfect control. The Shadow told herself it was a loss she could live with. As a domain mage she could adjust to it… maybe even turn it into a positive! 

The eye still stared but it was less distinct. Selene could no longer quite see it. She kept pacing. Steps, motion. Hope still flickered as the declaration of nothingness pushed at the edges of her island. It was ‘slower’ than before but she was nonetheless fading. She needed to be faster.

How does one become nothing?

No, she knew the answer. Selene realized she was just denying it. She had the tools if she dared use them. Her domain was to Forget. Why would it not be able to target herself? That jus begged the question: How much would she have to shed before ‘nothing’ was left. Or rather, where was the line where she could force the rest to the other side? She couldn’t know… 

She stopped pacing. 

◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉ ◉◉ ◉◉◉◉◉ ◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉ ◉ ◉◉◉◉ ◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉ ◉ ◉ ◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉ ◉ ◉◉◉ ◉◉ ◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉ ◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉  ◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉ ◉◉ ◉◉◉◉◉ ◉◉◉◉◉ ◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉ ◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉ ◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉ ◉◉ ◉◉◉◉◉◉◉ ◉◉◉◉◉ ◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉ ◉◉◉◉◉◉◉ ◉◉◉ ◉◉ ◉◉◉◉◉◉◉ ◉◉◉◉◉ The eye saw nothing at all. ◉ ◉◉◉◉ ◉◉ ◉◉◉◉◉◉◉ ◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉ ◉◉◉◉◉◉ ◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉ ◉◉◉ ◉◉◉◉◉ ◉◉◉◉◉◉ ◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉ ◉◉◉◉◉ ◉◉ ◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉ ◉◉◉◉◉ ◉◉◉◉◉◉◉ ◉ ◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉ ◉◉◉◉◉◉ ◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉ ◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉ ◉◉◉◉◉◉ ◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉ ◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉

The island grumbled, devoured by the Truth. But not all at once. Selene felt herself being erased from the ‘edges’ for all the word was inaccurate. Bit by bit, piece by piece, she was being lost.

And so, she cut. She gripped her domain and severed chunks of herself as soon as the Truth infected them with its edict. Consigned those pieces to oblivion. To forget - to be forgotten - was ultimately not all that different to the nothingness of the Void.

Selene forgot her closest acquaintances first - that made sense given how few and feeble those bonds had been. Then her childhood. Young adulthood. More. More. Evermore. Because she knew that as long as the eye kept erasing it was not yet sated. Not yet nothing at all.

Soon enough the woman did not remember her own name.. She hesitated, but then that emotion too was engulfed and cut away. Her very imprint on the word was forgotten, any memory of her gone. Yet it was still not enough. Perhaps anticipating the worst, she had hid it at the very core of herself: The plan to survive at any cost. In the end, there was only the hand holding a scalpel called a domain. Then it severed itself.

Finally, the eye saw nothing at all.

A blind woman breathed a deep breath, lying on the ground. Her oaths still bound her as she was a Shadow of House Blackburg - that was enforced by magic far greater than she herself could possibly scratch. Her body was still there, for all she did not remember losing it. She had never been the main target of the spell after all, even though it may have felt devastating in the moment. Just collateral damage for magic carefully crafted to not accidentally kill those far weaker than her. It never truly had the power to truly hurt the woman. She did not recall that thought.

She recalled nothing at all.

*****

When Irwyn and Elizabeth returned to camp it was not to much fanfare or uproar. They had decided to even approach visible, deeming it rather important to not be accidentally deemed a threat by whatever response City Black had sent. They fully expected that would at the very least surprise their troops who had never seen Elizabeth leave camp other than through the teleportation platform.

The men at the checkpoint had no reaction to their arrival. In fact, it became immediately apparent that something was severely wrong given their vacant expressions. Warrier, the two of them entered past the checkpoint. There, a familiar older man waited. This time Irwyn realized for the first time he felt like Dellusions. Which was strange given Irwyn could not actually quite put a finger on what that felt like.

“Calm?” Elizabeth exclaimed, recognition striking her moment faster than Irwyn.

“Your Ladyship,” the mage executed a deep bow. “Good to see you mostly unwounded.”

“Is it just you?” Elizabeth looked around. She indeed looked reasonably fine once they had wiped the blood out of their eyes and cheeks.

“A seer was employed to monitor the situation. Given the lack of further threats I was deemed sufficient for the clean-up.”

“How bad?”

“First it may be prompt to ask: Do you have any irregularities in your memory?” Calm inquired. “Examine extremely flawed logic, nonsensical details, or outright gaps. Please, think for a moment.”

Irwyn did. And quickly found several. Why had the two of them decided to confront two conception mages? Minutes ago he had not questioned it at all – in fact he had been certain they could have killed them at any moment before something went wrong. Except he had no clue what. The further he looked the more issues became blatantly apparent.

“Damn,” he said. Elizabeth’s expression told him she was finding no fewer issues.

“That is a lot of problems,” she muttered, appearing panicked. “None of my… no, my protections are all triggered. I just never noticed. How? Some must have been actively blaring into my ear for who knows how long but I just… ignored them?”

“Was made to ignore them,” Calm nodded. “You will agree that a prompt commitment to a specialist is warranted, I hope.”

“How do we know you are real then?” she immediately countered. “Everything could be a delusion.”

“True,” Calm nodded, reaching into his clothes. “I have anticipated this much and brought some proof.”

What he removed was a small token, Black - because of course it was - and ornate. It had the heraldry of House Blackburg. Besides that, it seemed entirely ordinary. The way Elizabeth scrutinized it suggested it was anything but.

“Fine… I will believe you,” she slowly nodded.

“Just like that?” Irwyn raised an eyebrow.

“If someone can fake that then they can force us to do anything they want,” Elizabeth explained.

“I suppose there is more to it than just the emblem.”

“Naturally,” she chuckled. “Here is probably not the place to speak about secrets though.”

“Everyone is quite out of it I assure you,” Calm shook his head. “Except that girl you have taken under your wing - she is keeping an eye on the platform.”

“Are we to head back right away?” Elizabeth asked

“Ideally, yes,” Calm nodded.

“Then we go.”

The platform was not far. Barely a corner away, really. The soldiers along the way still appeared rather dazed, standing in place and ignoring them. Alice was a distinct exception, hunched over the magical installation yet visibly fidgeting in place.

“What in the world happened?!” she yelled as soon as they were in earshot, though the girl did not turn towards them.

“Complications,” Irwyn weakly smiled.

“I felt your ‘complications’ all the way from here!” she scoffed. “Seriously, I thought I was dying. Not sure I am not anymore.”

“Was it really so intense for you?” Irwyn raised an eyebrow. The camp was quite far.

“I thought I felt Time itself end for a heartbeat, Irwyn,” she shuddered. “Imagine what kind of panic you would feel if you had a moment of certainty where Light nor Flame existed anymore. Seriously, what is happening?”

“It might be best if we explain things when we are in a better state of mind… and have discussed what is and isn’t a state secret,” Elizabeth interjected. “Can Alice be brought along with us? She could seemingly also use help.”

“When I leave I can bring her along,” Calm nodded. “I still have to go visit the site once I ensure you two are in City Black.”

“And me?” Waylan’s voice sounded, characteristically from behind them.

“Who?” Calm tensed for a fraction of a second before recognition seemingly struck him. “Surprising people like that is dangerous, young man.”

“I didn’t think it would actually work,” Waylan shrugged, though Irwyn could tell the nonchalance was feigned. “Aren’t you supposed to be, like, a big deal?”

“How are you this…” Calm frowned for a split second, then his expression cleared. “Oh, I see now. Strange. And no, I am a medium deal at most, though I suppose I have to thank you for pointing out a flaw in my perceptions before it gets me killed.”

“Welcome, welcome,” Waylan nodded. “Can I come along though?”

“Is there a need for it?” Calm questioned.

“Somethin’ be telling me I ain’t gonna hear shit about what went down if I stay,” Waylan shrugged. “Will behave, promise.”

“Is it too unreasonable?” Irwyn asked, naturally willing to humor Waylan.

“Is it?” Elizabeth inclined her head, looking at Calm. The older man seemed thoughtful for just a moment.

“When Alice leaves,” he decided. “There will be too many eyes on you two. Your father was not in private when this has gone down, Elizabeth. Things will get quite turbulent for the near future.”

“Damn,” Elizabeth cursed politely. “How bad?”

“I was sent too quickly to be informed, but your mother highly advises you both act shaken upon arrival and hurry into privacy. That presumably leaves the most options open.”

“We will do that,” Elizabeth nodded, seemingly willing to heed her mother’s advice when it came down to it in a crisis.

“Well then, Alice?” Calm glanced over.

“Still all ready,” she sighed, pointing at the platform. At least she seemed to be far less trained by assuring its integrity than she used to be.

“You will be expected,” Calm nodded. Elizabeth and Irwyn stepped onto the platform. “Off you go. Remember: You are shaken.”

Then they were standing somewhere else. A semi-familiar room in City Black where many of the platforms appeared to be situated. When Calm had mentioned scrutiny, Irwyn expected a few people on the watch-out, observing as he and Elizabeth made their way by them.

Perhaps expecting subtlety was the wrong idea. There were no hidden eyes but rather an outright procession. Dozens of mages lined the far end of the room, mostly imbuement but several concepts were mingled in there as well, though recognizing them individually was not easy in the crowd. 

Elizabeth tugged at his sleeve and Irwyn followed a few steps behind her, making sure his footing was uncertain and his stare distant. Elizabeth instead played out a seemingly involuntary tremble going through her every couple of seconds. Frankly, neither of them had to play it up that much, what they had just been through was disturbing, if not to the point they pretended.

To leave the room they needed to pass through the procession who stared and observed them silently. It was a bit humiliating, Irwyn had to admit: To stand in a room full of strangers, being judged for weakness. Analyzed for vulnerability… It was more unpleasant than he would have thought.

The short hall after the room was also lined with observers. There was also some normal traffic, though those people seemed to get swept up by curiosity in real time. Soon enough they were in the lobby with the familiar gate into the Voidways at one end. Thankfully there seemed to be no line nor did anyone stop their duo from approaching.

“May I offer your…” someone tried to speak to them right in front of the gate, but Elizabeth just barged past them, Irwyn following right behind. The door to the Voidways shut before the unwelcome guide could insert themselves.  

“It was on purpose,” Elizabeth grit her teeth when they were again in privacy, though more annoyed than upset. She relaxed her posture a bit as they walked down that endless hall.

“What?” Irwyn asked, also loosening up.

“We could have been brought straight to my mansion,” she explained. “But no, my mother clearly wanted a show. I suppose she got one.”

“I can kind of understand that having you seen alive in public is important after whatever uproar your father has caused,” Irwyn pointed out. “Though, I am not sure about whatever else that walk of shame served.”

“There will be more on the second stretch,” she nodded. “Annoying but my mother has judged correctly that I am not spiteful enough over it to put us at risk. And whatever she is scheming we will use to our advantage, I swear it.”

When they exited the Voidways there was another horde of hanger-ons lining the road from the Voidways to Elizabeth’s home. It was the very same mansion they had stayed at in between Irwyn’s trial and the Exenn. Irwyn was honestly not sure what, if any, other properties Elizabeth might own so it was the place he expected in the first place

When they finally stepped past the front door neither quite relaxed though. Irwyn was not confident about the reliability of the servants and it seemed neither was Elizabeth. Except they encountered none. Instead, they did feel a powerful mage deeper inside. There they found a familiar face, smiling at them.

“Doctor Johnson?” Elizabeth raised an eyebrow. It took hearing the name for Irwyn to connect the appearance. John Johnson – a name so clearly fake it might as well be a jab – felt… different. Equally powerful, just different. Irwyn was not sure in what way exactly.

“Elizabeth! Irwyn! Please, take a seat, take a seat,” he gestured to the chairs. The man seemed downright exhilarated. “Or perhaps lie down? Whichever you prefer.”

“What are you doing here?” the heiress questioned instead of following the instruction.

“Memory loss, exposition to Truth magic, near death experience?” the doctor listed out. “Why, Elizabeth what a silly question. I am here to provide medical care since I am uniquely qualified to tend to both flesh and Soul.

“I thought you were busy in Abonisle,” Irwyn remembered

“Bah, some things take priority,” Johnson scoffed. “Thankfully I was within reach and my work there does not require constant supervision anymore. This, Irwyn, I would not miss for anything. Well… almost anything. ‘Anything’ is a very strong word. But none of those other events are even remotely likely to occur in any given decade, I assure you.”

“Is healing us so… exciting?”

“You cannot imagine how difficult it is to get data on exceptional prodigies such as you,” Johnson nodded. “ ’State secret’ that, ‘you don’t need to know about this extreme case’ this. Bah! Bah I say! How am I supposed to learn anything knew if not through unique beings like you two? Trust me, there is very little left for me to dissect from the masses.”

“You are here to heal us, right?” Irwyn had to make sure. 

“Of course, Irwyn,” the man immediately nodded. “If you were to be damaged on my watch I would be basically stealing from myself everything I am going to learn by caring for you two in the future! Now do please lie or sit down... Unless you prefer to be carried?”