1.3 – Did He Die, Tho?

The day turned to night and Teacher showed signs of fatigue, though that didn’t stop him from giving Octavian orders. Teacher ordered food from a nearby 24-hour restaurant, but by the time it arrived, Octavian’s stomach was in knots.

As they ate, Teacher’s eyes drifted around the room, his foot tapped, and his hands shook. Octavian couldn’t help but watch as Teacher seemed to silently process some private terror. Teacher swallowed his last bite of food.

He abruptly asked, “Do you remember the Multiple Realities Theory I’ve told you about?”

The casual mention of this topic startled Octavian so much that he almost choked on the food he was trying to swallow. He coughed as he remembered the one and only time this topic had been mentioned, in one tight-lipped and awkward conversation after his first semester in the lab.

Over 30 years ago, the International Council of Exalted Magicians had declared travel to alternate realitiesImagine a world where one event occurred differently than in your reality, and where that difference led to another difference until the differences snowballed into a world very different than the one you know and (arguably) enjoy. Speaking of snowballing, traveling between realities can feel like you've been hit with... More as a scientific impossibility. In their short yet blasphemous conversation, Teacher had informed Octavian that the ICEM was possibly wrong in the same breath that he had sworn Octavian to secrecy about it.

“Drink,” Teacher fussed as Octavian tried to get the food down the right tube. “Now, do you remember or don’t you?”

Octavian forced out an answer before taking a sip of water.

“Yes, sir.”

He took a moment to clear his throat before making eye contact with Teacher again. Teacher was silent, waiting for more, although Octavian wasn’t sure what he wanted to hear.

“Well,” Octavian continued, doing his best to recall this vague memory. “You told me that a fellow scientist had almost completed the magical proof for travel to an alternate realityImagine a world where one event occurred differently than in your reality, and where that difference led to another difference until the differences snowballed into a world very different than the one you know and (arguably) enjoy. Speaking of snowballing, traveling between realities can feel like you've been hit with... More, but they were unable to complete it because the work was destroyed.”

“The proof wasn’t almost complete. My dear friend completed the work but was never able to present the magical proof,” Teacher corrected, as if this was common knowledge.

“I see,” was all Octavian could think to say.

“And then my colleague mysteriously died,” Teacher said in grim seriousness.

Octavian’s raised eyebrow gave away that, while he was nodding, he did not remember that particular detail. He was pretty sure he would remember something like that.

“Who was this colleague? Surely I’ve heard of them.”

“No, I can assure you that you haven’t. But you will.”

“Why? Are you going to present their theories to the ICEM?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I only have bits and pieces of the magical proof. To complete it would be a lifetime of work, and… Well, I’m not getting any younger, am I?” Teacher let out a long sigh before adding, “But you…”

The long pause nagged at Octavian’s curiosity.

“What about me?” Octavian finally asked.

“Listen to me, and stop interrupting.”

Octavian hadn’t interrupted, but he chose not to remind his mentor of that.

Teacher let the echo of his voice fall to silence before beginning a long and detailed description of the project’s history. He spoke so fast and in such minute and opaque detail that Octavian couldn’t understand and knew he wouldn’t remember.

Teacher spoke until Octavian’s mind was mush. 

As he got lost in his train of thought, he kept going back to how wrong this all seemed. It almost sounded like Teacher wanted him to take this on as his thesis project, which would doom him to failure.

“You’ve stopped listening,” Teacher called out.

“I just don’t understand what you’re telling me.”

Teacher grumbled. “I know. Of course you don’t.” He shook his head. “I’ve never told anyone else about the Multiple Realities Theory. But I know you’re the right one to tell.”

This didn’t come across as the compliment Teacher intended.

“I think you’re overestimating my abilities,” Octavian mumbled.

“Well, you’re definitely not the most brilliant magical scientist I’ve ever met,” Teacher grumbled. Then he added, “But, someday, I know you will be.”

Teacher had never said anything close to this before, barely even given him a positive critique and definitely never a compliment. 

Octavian grabbed his plate and turned away to hide the tears welling up in his eyes. When he stood to take his plate to the sink, Teacher stopped him.

“We can clean up later,” Teacher said. “I think it’s about time we activated Replika.”

Something seemed to change for Octavian, a feeling of dissociation from the physical world. They set up a magical shield around Replika in case anything went wrong. Teacher gave his student very specific instructions. Octavian must have followed those directions, but he felt outside his own body, controlling it more as a puppet than its owner.

He felt aware — in an incorporeal way — of every inch of space in the lab. He saw the light from the rising sun peeking through the one window of the lab. Every tool on the counters. Every tile on the floor. Every book and knickknack and spare part in the cabinets. And as Teacher prepared the remote activation device and declared that it was time, he became aware that something was missing.

Teacher pulled his favorite old, raggedy chair from his bedroom into the lab. Octavian could sense that something was about to happen, something wrong. 

Then he saw it, the thing that was missing. The computer typically in the cabinets under the window was now in Teacher’s hand. Teacher rolled it around in his palm. He rubbed the transparent casing with his sleeve. He gingerly traced the tarnished finishings with his fingers.

The inside of the computer was indeed hollow, at least the top half was. Something about the device was glowing, though he couldn’t tell what. But it was beautiful.

“Are you ready, Octavian?” Teacher asked.

Octavian gave a weak smile, but before he could respond, he watched Teacher place his finger at the bottom of the computer. A bright, blue light flashed, and Octavian tried to call out to Teacher, to tell him to wait. But all too clearly, he watched Teacher’s thumb push the large button along the side of the device.

Abruptly, the floor seemed to fall from under Octavian’s feet. He looked down to see that his feet were still planted on the ground, yet the feeling of his stomach pulling up into his throat disoriented him. 

Teacher’s old, unstable chair broke with a loud crack. Just as he snapped his eyes back to his mentor, Teacher’s body slumped over. The limp form folded over itself and fell to the floor in a pile.

Octavian tried to call out to the lifeless body of his mentor but found that he couldn’t move. Small strips of flesh ripped off of Teacher’s face and arms. His peeling skin revealed muscle until his body was unrecognizable. The limp muscles tore off bones that melted as they were exposed. 

Everything spun as Octavian’s vision dimmed.

Dizziness and panic overcame him, then fear and sickness took over. He grasped for anything to hold on to, but found no stable structure and no solace. As everything around him disintegrated, only darkness remained.

He tried to force himself to think of Stone Plaza, to think of a future where he, a magician of both feminine and masculine magic, sat on the International Council of Exalted Magicians.

Or just a future where he was alive would be nice. 

Any future at all seemed so far away in this moment, so far beyond his reach, that he finally succumbed to the darkness.