Haven's Addiction

After leaving Fenton’s, we went to the University Magica. There I would get a proper assessment on my potential magical abilities. If the Twittle birds were an accurate indicator of this potential, then I would be getting personal instruction on the ways of magic. With the amount of money I now possessed, I could hire the best wizard in the world to teach me everything I needed to know.

All the way to the University, I was giddy with excitement. Not just because I would be potentially learning how to use real magic, but because we were on our way to the place where I would learn how to get back home. That possibility filled me with more excitement than anything.

The building we went to wasn’t actually part of the main school that taught magic, but a place where they conducted placement tests. The testing was anticlimactic, like so many other magical experiences so far in Haven. I was placed in a waiting room for what seemed like hours just to get in. The only difference between the waiting room here and any other I have ever been to was that I couldn’t read the language of their reading material. Well, that and the fact that some of the people in the waiting room looked like a casting call for a Spielberg flick.

I sat as patiently as I could, which wasn’t very well. I kept fidgeting and squirming in my seat like a hyper little kid, which seemed appropriate since the average age in the waiting room was about 4 years old. Mazzy informed me that most residents of Haven are scouted by the Twittle birds after the day of their birth. If they had any aptitude, they were brought here at about the age of three to be evaluated. There are relatively few newcomers to Haven these days.

I was so excited to see the light at the end of the tunnel that I couldn’t wait for it to be over with, but did my best to stay calm. They eventually admitted into the evaluation room. There were five people behind a long semi-circle shaped desk that made me feel more like being brought before a grand jury than anything. Or at least I assume they were people. A spotlight shone right in my face bright enough that I couldn’t make out any of their features, only outlines of bodies. They looked me over and asked a series of questions while I sat in a chair by myself at the circles center. I felt like I was on trial, and got a little more defensive than I should. They were very humorless and didn’t seem to like the Salem witch trial reference I made, or that I asked if I was to be burned at the stake if I failed their test.

They said that I was a bit old to start learning the arts, but that I did show promise. I imagined that they heard of the incident with the Twittle birds, but they showed no sign to confirm that. They were a very secretive bunch and made me nervous. I was told that I could seek training if I so desired, but because of my age and complete lack of knowledge on mystical elements I would need to hire a private instructor, which would be a significant financial burden. I think they offered that to me as a deterrent. Little did they know that financial burden’s were the least of my worries right then, and already had plans of hiring my own private Dumbledore instead of enrolling in their classes.

It was strange really, almost as if they were trying to do everything they could to deter me from pursuing a career in magic. They said, repeatedly, that if I was to seek training in the mystic arts it would take years of study. They seemed to all agree that I had an incredible amount of potential in the arts, yet they were still hesitant to have me learn from them. If the incident with the Twittle birds was any indication, perhaps they saw too much potential, and were afraid that I would not be able to control it if I chose to harness it. No matter what their reasons, I didn’t plan on joining their little clique anyway. They all seemed too secretive and snooty for my tastes. Besides, I didn’t have that kind of time.

It wasn’t a complete dead end though, just a step in the right direction. Even if they would have agreed to teach me, it wouldn’t have made a difference. I may not have known a single thing about the mystical arts, but I wasn’t delusional enough to think I could pick it up in a day. It would be like learning how to make an atom bomb my first day in college. No, my learning wasn’t going to come from any classrooms they had available. I was going to have to buy my degree, and the closer I got to the magical community here, the closer I would be to getting home.

Before I left they said they would like to give me a proper evaluation. Apparently there was something unusual about me that they didn’t quite understand and felt that a more in depth evaluation would provide them with the proper answers they sought. This just added to more of their mysterious aloofness. Who cared what they wanted to know about me? If I was going to allow myself to be evaluated, it would be because I wanted to know.

This evaluation was supposed to be private. The Mystic and I would have a kind of witchdoctor-patient privilege, whereas he would not be able to disclose any information about our meeting. This custom seemed a bit strange, but at least comforting. They said that magic potential is one thing and can easily be detected, but there is more to an individual than just the ability to use magic. There may already be magical attachments to a person, like spells or curses that are already placed on them. If there is such an enchantment, then it is their right to not have it made public. Guess our two worlds aren’t that completely different after all.

I was led to a small private chamber deep within the building. The room itself was about the size of a dorm room, but with three walls that went up at an angle so that the room was a giant triangular shape. There were a series of circles with strange markings that covered the entire surface of the floor in the room. The rest of the room was lit up by hundreds of candles that adorned all three walls, and provided the only illumination. I was told to sit on the circle in the center of the room. A Mystic was to be brought in for the evaluation and it would only take a few minutes. Afterward I would be free to ask the Mystic whatever I wanted.

When the Mystic arrived, my back was to him. He entered the room and, in a deep gravelly voice that didn’t sound the least bit human, said “there was no need to turn around.”

I guess he didn’t want to be seen. Knowing some of the freaky looking creatures I had already encountered around this place, I wasn’t all that surprised. I may have been curious about his appearance, but didn’t really have the desire to look at him. He was probably so grotesque and terrifying that I would have likely screamed like a little schoolgirl, wet myself, and ran out of the building screaming in terror; possibly in that order. OK, maybe I was being a bit melodramatic, but I didn’t really care. I just wanted to get it over with and get the heck out of this place. It was a bit too gothic for my taste, and the room itself gave me the creeps. There was a sort of thrumming energy about the room that made me very uneasy. Besides, I was still anxious to go find a mystical Graxis slaying sword, or at the very least instructions on how to build one. I honestly didn’t think there was a single thing this Mystic could tell me that would be helpful. Boy was I wrong.

I sat as still as I could, staring at a symbol on the wall in front of me like he instructed. The Mystic lit some incense that filled the room with a pungent odor that pierced my nose and made my eyes want to water. He began chanting something that I couldn’t understand. As he did this I seemed to get mesmerized by the symbol, like a hypnotic trance. I was so enthralled by it that I hardly noticed the multi-colored wisps of smoke that swirled about the room. As the chanting continued it seemed like it came from multiple sources. My head started to spin round and round until I felt like I was getting dizzy enough that I would hurl all over the stone floor. My eyes started to droop and I began to nod off.

When I jerked myself up out of it, the ritual was over. The chanting had stopped, the air was clear, and I seemed to be alone in the room again. Most of the candles about the room were now burned out and the room had a grim feel to it. I sat motionless for a moment, not sure if it was over or whether I had nodded off and was dreaming. Instinctively I looked at my watch to see how long I had been out, forgetting that I had left it on the nightstand when I crawled in bed back home. I must have been holding my breath because I was making no noise at all. I may have been holding my breath, but I could still hear breathing. I continued to hold it out of fear that there was someone else in the room, and not knowing who they were.

Finally I heard a slight shuffling of feet on the ground behind me. It was the same soft pitch of moccasins that the Mystic wore. I assumed that it must have been him, but didn’t know for certain. That uncertainty filled me with fear. For all I knew this person could have been readying to run me through in the back with a knife.

“There is no reason to be afraid,” the familiar deep voice of the Mystic broke through. “Your evaluation is over and I am prepared to answer any questions you may have.”

“What kind of questions should I have? I know nothing about any of this,” I inquired, confused.

“Perhaps I can start by asking you a few questions, if you don’t mind?”

“Go ahead.”

“Do you know why or how it is that you got here?”

“No. The only why I was given had something to do with finding a way to save my world from a threat.”

“But you do not know what that threat is? Or who it was that brought you here?”

“No, do you?” I said as I turned to look at him. He seemed to know more than he was telling and skirted the issue of getting it all out. All I could see of him in the dimmed lighting was the shadow of his legs and feet as he stood over me. His face was too high up for me to see. “I was told that you were obligated to answer any questions I have about the evaluation truthfully.”

“Yes, that is true,” He said in a more ominous tone. He seemed to be threatened by my looking at him.

I turned back to the hypnotic marking on the wall and asked, “What did you find out?”

“I couldn’t detect anything that told me who or what brought you here, or for what reasons, but there are quite a few telltale signs of How that might give you some insight as to your purpose.”

“All right, I give. How?”

“You have a tether attached to you, much like the tether to an astral form. But this is not an astral cord and is unlike anything I have ever encountered before. However I have heard of this from a few other sources.” His tone remained serious and monotone.

“Tether? You mean I’m chained to something?”

“An astral cord is an invisible and intangible thread that links a person to their body through the astral plane. The astral plane is commonly known to Mogs as a spirit plane. Another plane of existence in which a person can travel spiritually, free of their body. The tether is what keeps them attached to their body so that when they are free of the astral plane they will return to their body instead of having their soul lost to the abyss forever.”

“Ok, so it’s like a lifeline when traveling to the spirit world,” I mulled it over “I can buy that. What does that have to do with me? I’m not in a spirit world now, am I?”

“No. Your cord is similar to the astral tether only in principal. They are not the same.”

“You said that you have heard of this before. So, what is it then?” If there was any hesitation in his responses, it didn’t show. He answered so quickly and confidently that it seemed almost scripted and well rehearsed.

“While the astral tether keeps a person in contact with their body, as soon as they depart the astral plane they are pulled back by the tether to the source.”

“So the astral tether is just like real rope tethered to your waist when you go diving. You can wander about with the rope keeping you secure and tied down. When you are done or in trouble, just tug on the rope a couple of times and your buddies will pull in the rope until you are safely back on the boat.”

“That is a crude way of putting it, but yes,” he grumbled.

“All right, I get it. So whoever sent me here attached this tether to me so that when I have found what I came for, they will essentially tug on the line and bring me back to where I started; bring me back home. Right?”

“In a way, yes.”

“Does anyone in this world speak non-cryptic? What the hell does ‘in a way’ mean?” I screamed in frustration.

“It is not a matter of where your tether is attached to, but when,” he replied as stoic as ever. “Your tether appears to be a temporal cord.”

“Temporal, as in temporary?”

“Temporal as in time.”

This was getting deep. “So you are saying that I have traveled through time?”

“No, I don’t think you have. At least not completely. I cannot determine for certain. Although I believe you will as soon as the tether is retrieved.”

“Retrieved? You mean when I get brought back home?”

“Yes. This tether seems to link you to your body from whence you came. When you return, you will return to your body at the exact point in time that you left.”

Ah, it was finally beginning to make sense. “Wait a second. How can I return to my body, which is currently several days behind me, when I am in this one?”

“That is where it gets complicated.”

“That is where it gets complicated? Well I am glad that it only begins there, because I am already really damn confused and it hasn’t even begun yet,” I yelled at him, more outraged than ever. “You had better start coming up with a simple explanation before I have to get medieval on your ass.” I was getting really pissed off and started to get up off the floor to face him. Sure I probably would have gotten my ass kicked in a heartbeat, but I was miffed enough to at least try and intimidate him.

As I stood up I heard him mutter a few words under his breath and I was suddenly filled with the compelling and uncontrollable urge to sit back down. I plopped down on the ground with such force that I think I bruised my ass.

“Are you more receptive to a simple explanation now?” He said matter of fact, like you would to a small child.

“Yes,” I grumbled massaging my now tender backside, as well as my pride.

“Very well. From what I can determine, the body you are currently in is an exact clone of the one you left back in your realm. Your mind and spirit were then transported to this realm, likely through the astral plane, and then contained in the vessel that was created here for you. When your time here ends, this body will cease to exist. Your mind and spirit will then be brought back through the temporal tether to the point of origin and into your original body.”

“So basically, when it is all said and done I will wake up from my bed as if none of this has ever happened. The only difference is that I will wake up with the knowledge of the experiences I had, as if it was all nothing more than a dream. Does that sound about right?”

“Correct.”

Ok, this was getting way too deep for me. First of all, I was in a different body? It didn’t feel any different, but knowing that it is was unsettling. “Why go through all of the effort to create a clone of me in the first place? Why not just bring me here?”

“The only process I know of that would instantaneously bring you here and attach a temporal tether to you would be too much for your frail body to handle. The process would have killed you.”

That at least made sense. Traveling billions of light years to get to world in another galaxy that quickly would likely liquify my body. “How accurate do you suppose this clone is of my body? It doesn’t feel any different. Could there be any kind of defect?”

“Clones are not all that uncommon here, especially in skilled hands. Clones here are an exact replica of a person in every way. The clones cannot live without a soul. Once it is transferred from one body to another, it is rendered inert.”

I take it that meant the original body died, or at the very least went into a coma. But what about my original body? Was it laying dead in the middle of the remains of my bedroom? Maybe that would explain the temporal tether. My body died at the same moment that this one was created, then my soul was instantly transported to this body. These two bodies exist at different times. It made sense in an acceptance-of-magic-as-real sort of way. Yet one detail still nagged me.

“What about everything I arrived here with. Was it created here too?”

“Not likely. Organic matter can not travel through the gates of time, hence the need for the clone. That does not apply to inorganic matter. It would be much more difficult to replicate an object than send it through time.”

“So if, in the end, this is all going to end up being nothing more than a dream to me, how do I know that I am not dreaming right now? I mean, if I am dreaming then I can just do whatever the hell I want without fear of dying because it is all just a dream. Basically, I am a god in this world.”

Without warning he smacked me upside the head so hard that I started to see stars. “Does that feel like a dream?” I swear this world is far too grim and serious. “If you die in this dream then you are dead. Your soul departs from your body into the abyss. You will not return through the tether until the goal set by those who sent you here has been completed. If you fail in that goal because your life ends, then either you will cease to exist, or your mind will be trapped here forever.”

“I guess that doesn’t leave me with much choice. I just have to go out and find the holy grail to bring it back home.”

“That is not possible,” he replied.

“What do you mean it’s not? You just said that I would be pulled back by the tether and be right back where I started.”

“Material objects can only travel forward in time, never backward.”

“So, I will have to memorize the recipe for making the holy grail so that I can return home and save the world. Sounds simple enough. Any ideas where I can find a holy grail cookbook around here?”

He grumbled something under his breath. He appeared to be very displeased with my sarcasm. I could tell that this must have really not been my dream, because if it was I would have at least added somewhat of a sense of humor.

“One more thing,” he said in a tone more serious than before. “A temporal tether is extremely rare, even for this realm, and is exceedingly dangerous. Even experiments in temporal magic are highly prohibited here. The practice of tampering with time is highly volatile, and could threaten to unbalance the fabric of the very existence of this and many other realms.”

“Legally I am bound to destroy any temporal anomalies detected to prevent it from causing any further damage to the realm.” It didn’t take a genius to figure out that this meant he had to kill me. “While I am bound to destroy you, I will not.” Somehow I wasn’t all that relieved.

“I detect an insurmountable amount of potential within you. A power that I have felt once before. A power that compels me to let you live. I pray that you will take this as an opportunity to make the best of the gifts you are given. You have the potential of greatness to not only save your realm, but to save this one as well; or destroy it. My sincerest hope is that I am correct in doing this, and have not doomed us all.”

At first it was flattering, but now he started to border on insulting. Was I really that influential that I could make or break the lives of not just one entire world, but several worlds? This was too screwed up. I wasn’t ready for this kind of burden, not one little bit.

“The seriousness of this matter is thus that as soon as you leave this chamber I am going to cast an enchantment on myself to stricken any knowledge of this conversation from my memory. This kind of information is too dangerous for me to possess. I would do the same for you, but suspect that using this knowledge will be valuable to your success. I must warn you. Do not share any of this knowledge with a single soul no matter how trusting. It can be used against you, and in the wrong hands could destroy us all. I have placed a guard over your mind to make certain that others cannot force this information from you. Now be gone.”

He immediately sat down on the ground in a perfect lotus position with his head down and his arms straight up in the air, palms together. He began chanting very loudly and swaying back and forth in a strange position. He paused from his chanting for one moment so say his final words without turning to look at me.

“If we meet again you will be a complete stranger to me. May the gods be with you.” He then continued chanting at an even more frantic pace.

He was frightened, I could tell. No wonder he didn’t have any sense of humor, he was absolutely terrified. Was it really that bad? Could what he saw really have been as monumental as he let on? I didn’t want to stick around to find out. I just wanted to get out of that place as soon as my legs could carry me. His fear rubbed off on me.

It took me only a few feet out of the chamber to regain my composure. I walked briskly with my head down, not daring to look at anyone. My breathing quickened to the point that I thought I would hyperventilate. My heart raced so quickly as the instinct to run tried to take over. It took every ounce of willpower I had to refrain from sprinting to the nearest exit. I just had to keep myself together long enough to get out of the building to the coach. My hands were shaking so badly that I barely managed to get the door open to climb in. Something about what the Mystic said had me terrified to the core, and what scared me most was that I didn’t know what exactly it was.

I told the coachman to just drive around for a while. I tried to maintain composure, but in retrospect it probably sounded more like “Just drive!” like I had just jumped into the getaway car after a bank heist and something terrible was in pursuit. Indeed that is what it felt like, that something was chasing me, hunting me down, and there was no way for me to escape it. It took a few hours before I was able to calm down enough to function normally. The majority of the ride was spent curled up in the fetal position trembling in terror.

For the first time since I came to this world I truly felt that I was in it alone, and that there was nobody I could trust but myself to get me back home. I cried so much in those few hours that I completely saturated the upholstery in the seat. It was probably the most lonely and terrifying moment I’ve ever had the entire time I have been here in Haven, not to mention in my entire life.

And there were many more scary moments to come.