Suddenly A Succubus Ch. 46

nothing

rustling through the wind concrete clouds cold above is

wrong the shouldn't the it all there flames drift cold the is trees the

air can't billowing nobody but wind wrong in while

warm be and so the above wrong

magical why no because yelling the it shakes gone and

away pain ground is air sputtering are darkness the why air

dancing wrong shudders far

wrong the hurt air flickering the hurt is nothing too wrong sharp air wrong

nothing darkness worthless

they undone empty safety the nothing cannot

hear worthless darkness nothing

empty gone fear darkness safe nothing why

nobody worthless nothing failure

fear nothing darkness

nothingnothingnobodynothingworthlessnothingnothing

gone

Nothing.

Endless, empty, gasping, heaving nothing.

Surrounding, suffocating, freeing, eclipsing

nothing.

It is everywhere and nowhere; it does not stop or begin. It is me, and I am it.

I am nothing.

Peace, in nothing. It calms and soothes; it scatters the pain and destroys the suffering.

I see nothing. I hear nothing.

I am nothing.

Right?

That can't be right.

If I am nothing, how can I think?

What was it that guy said?

I'm thinking, therefore... I'm...

am-ing?

That doesn't sound right.

But, if I'm not nothing...

what am I?

Shapes. Blurred together, a formless mass of half-present lines, but shapes nonetheless. Floating in and out of sight, separating into distinct masses.

What are they? They're so far away. Can they be closer?

The world turned sideways, left-ways, right-ways, upside-down. The shapes spun and scattered and ran away and vanished.

wrong no air it hurts pain run the spinning escape

Stop.

When the shapes returned, they were larger. Lines more distinct, the formless mass condensing into rigid, shaking things. They were singular, multitudinous, fragile. Patterns formed, fractalizing out and out and out until they didn't. Backwards, starting from the end, tracing the pattern down. Endless jagged lines met the bigger line, others of the sort combined then, over and over until the biggest line of them all stopped.

It stops on both ends. Why? What defines its beginning and its end? What separates it from nothing?

Another thing stopped the line. This hadn't happened with the small ones. The new thing was not a line, it was... all. It didn't. But it had to. It was the top of the line, the thing that stopped, so what was it? Looking down, the mass of ever-shrinking lines reached out until they too became nothing, but not because of this other thing. Those lines stopped when there was nothing left, the big line stopped because there was something.

Looking closer, the big line had tiny lines on it, but they were different. Their pattern did not fractalize, it stuttered and skipped without rhyme and an idea appeared, unbidden.

Bark.

Meaning tied to the idea, it confessed purpose that lay beyond. The world froze, the lines blurred and scattered once more as the idea grew. It spun and whirred and clicked until the meaning compounded and brought with it association.

Tree. This is a tree.

Focus. Returning, the world sharpened and condensed until the thing, the tree, became whole again, but still it was wrong. It had a name, how could it be wrong? Did names not bestow purpose, meaning, significance? Could names be wrong? Return to the tree, examine it, find the source of the wrong and pick it apart. It fractalized out and down, the root of everything sitting high above before it met the everything nothing and stopped. That felt itchy. The idea there, that the root was above, that was the source of the wrong.

Trees don't go down. But, if they don't...

If they don't, the problem is not the tree, it's the world around it. I need to fix the rest of the world.

The tree didn't need to become bigger anymore, but hadn't the world spun left, right, up? Again. Again the world roiled and tipped and fell but the shapes, the tree, did not vanish this time. When the world stopped, the tree was right this time, and becoming right removed the itch. The clarity brought new ideas, and the ideas imprinted on the world to give it yet more purpose and more thoughts and more names.

Suddenly, shapes appeared everywhere. Different shapes with different ideas and different meaning and somehow it all made sense. How could it make sense?

Maybe the why doesn't matter. Sense, reason, purpose, they all exist and I can imprint them on the things to understand them.

The world came into focus. What had previously been an ominous, endless ceiling was now the ground. It extended out in all directions, holding up not just a tree but dozens of trees, and in between the trees there was grass and dirt and in the dirt there were lines, sharp lines that brought ideas and meaning of their own and

WRONG BE IT CANT IT IS AIR STINGS ITS SHARP

RUN

Away from the lines, away from the wrong ideas that don't belong. Away from the field and the grass and the dirt. Beyond the tree sat a new idea, one much larger than the trees that reached higher into the sky with slick, obtuse purpose. This idea felt familiar as well, and moving closer meant

Wait.

Moving. I can move. That means... I'm here? I'm here but I can also be there, which is how things get bigger or smaller.

Which means I am. My absence from other places means I am; I exist here.

Moving again, towards the strange obtuse block that towered over the trees. It, like everything else, was made of hints and shadows with little else defining it. Once it was close enough, it became obvious that the side of this idea didn't exist. Except it did. Whatever it was, things were visible on the other side of it, but tiny fractals of frost lingered on the edges of this thing-that-wasn't-a-thing-but-also-was.

This is... glass. A window. A thing that is a thing but also shows the things behind it.

Beyond the window, multitudinous shapes moved and shifted and rose and fell. Whatever was happening in there, it looked interesting. Despite the presence of the glass thing, the window, moving closer to the interesting shapes was easy. Passing into the building, a mass of new ideas now appeared.

Focus. Let the ideas propagate. Watch, learn, and just like the window, I can name these things. Whatever they are, they move in ways the trees and the windows don't. Something about them feels familiar, though, as if...

People.

Humans, individuals, students, strangers.

Thoughts and ideas began appearing with more frequency. The surrounding world made more sense with each second that passed, which was an idea itself that brought excitement and recognition.

Time! Seconds, minutes, hours, days, months, all of time so that people can name and organize!

The massive crowd of people slowly organized themselves, moving until they resembled the ticks of a clock. They shrank and (the word, there's an idea for this and it is)sat down. All of them sitting, looking forward with theireyes and theirheads. In front of all of them, another person continued standing and gestured with theirarms. So many people, all in one place; it inspired exploration and curiosity.

All the people were unique, with differenthair andeyes andclothes that sat on their bodies and made them look even more special and unique. Some of them gestured, raising the hands and moving their mouths, which appeared to be for its own sake. There used to be reason to mouth-moving (there had to be or they wouldn't do it) but ideas weren't appearing when it happened.

Time continued passing, the people all gesturing and mouth-moving when something happened that made them all look away from the standing person. Their eyes were wide, they leaned away with tension in their bodies and doesn't that motion look like an idea?

Fear.

Following their eyes, reverse-engineering their body movements, it became obvious what the source of the fear was. Another person had jumped to their feet, and their hands were resting on thetable, which had a large crack running down the center. This person was the most unique of all of them; not only was she wearing clothes but she had extra pieces on her. They weren't arms or legs, they were small dark things that jutted from her head and sparkled and flickered. Her eyes were intense and angled and so muchbrighter than everyone else's.

Why would they be afraid of this? This person is special and unique and so cool and they feel... safe? Yes. Safe. Nice.

Another person reached out, grabbing the safe person's arm before pulling her away. They left the building, everyone else watching until the two groups had separated. Staying felt pointless, why watch everyone else?

Following the safe person was easy, especially since she didn't take a straight path. She needed to walk around other large shapes, walls anddoors that impeded her progress. Moving was still awkward, shifting through the world required stiff and uncomfortable focus. While possible, the movement failed to track the path the safe person took, which meant passing through the walls and doors that the other people had to walk around.

I don't feel a difference, though. Should I not be able to pass through things? Those people aren't.

Continuing to watch these people only intensified the confusion. When they left the building, they sat on the ground and leaned against the walls, proving even more that these objects were not things that should be passed through.

Am I doing something wrong?

That idea feels familiar.

I'm wrong.

More watching. Time passed and passed and seconds became minutes became hours. Ideas turned and spun as the watching continued, with one thought crowding out all the others.

They interact with everything differently. They seem to notice things I don't. They turn their heads when people move their mouths, they change their clothes when they're inside buildings, as if the inside and the outside are different somehow.

At some point, the safe, nice person left the first building and walked away, with the second person following close behind.

Pause. Where were they going? There was so muchother around them, how did they know where they wanted to be? Looking around, other ideas and thoughts and strange boxes of all shapes and sizes sat waiting.

They were all nearly eclipsed by the end. The nothing that sat between them all, behind and above and beside and in front of. It had no edges, no center, it was ever-present and infinite but also invisible and miniscule. It was a chasm of ideas, a thought that devoured all while demanding nothing.

It didn't want absence, itwas absence. Cavernous, infinite, nothing that sought only to grow and, by growing, shrink into obscurity.

The Void.

The end of everything and everyone it hungers for oblivion but its patience is eternal and it's waiting for me to walk closer and to

No.

I want to see where the nice person goes. Why would I enter the Void?

The safe, nice, happy awesome person walked to a new place that was different, special, and being inside it made the nice person's body more relaxed. She even changed her clothes to ones that were smaller, but the strangest thing of all was that another new part appeared on her body. This new part came from her back; it was long and powerful andso cool and it moved and tapped and curled around things.

I know this. This is familiar. She has arms and legs, yes, but also

(come on I know this)

horns! And a tail! And she can make dancing sparkling beautiful lights appear!

The dancing lights weren't just on her fingers, either. They also appeared on the flat thing nearby, underneath a pile of stuff that she pulled from the big box with the door. Something about this felt familiar, what was it? More time passed, and the dancing lights began to change the small pieces over it, filling the air with more air. Thicker air? It wasn't the wrong air, it was... it was...

Hot!

Hot and cold! They keep things in the cold box before making it hot!

This was cooking, wherefood from thefridge changed state before their very eyes. It turned from something unwanted toyummy anddelicious because they usedfire.

How does the fire change things? It makes them hot, but... what is hot? There was an idea for this, too, wasn't there? It's another sense, like how I can see what's happening. Are there others? Senses? There must be, otherwise they wouldn't cook the food, but why don't I understand them? If I can see, why can't I touch? Smell? Hear?

That's it! The things I can't do!

Can't. Can not. That idea feels familiar too. Can I not feel those things because

I'm wrong?

That feels like it makes sense.

The meal continued, the nice person and herfriend trading looks and making unheard noise with their mouths. This, too, felt both familiar and foreign.

More time, more seconds and minutes. The second person left. The nice person, alone, started moving the meal things from one place to another. Her tail, her awesome special cool amazing tail moved just as fast as her hands, picking things up and putting them inwater and in the strange, small box underneath.

The small things, one of them was close. It was (liquid hot drinking careful) amug, and it was so close to the edge of the surface.

Why can't I touch too? The nice person can. She has hands and a tail, though, but I only have--

What do I have?

What am I?

Hands and arms feel familiar, but not the tail. Her tail is special and cool, it's unique and only hers and that's why she's so awesome. I'm not her, but maybe I can look a little like her?

For the first time in (how long have I been?) ever, they looked down. If the people looked through the eyes on their heads, surely that meant the rest of their bodies were down, right? They tried to look down without spinning the world, and the vaguest suggestion ofsomething awaited them.

Maybe that's it! I just have to reach out and remember what touching feels like!

Part of them extended, reaching for the mug, and they filled their thoughts with purpose. Ideas of presence and affecting andpushing made them feel bold, daring, all sorts of new feelings that inspired tingly thoughts.

Their extension, their (can I say it?)hand touched the mug. It was solid! It was warm! They pushed harder, eager to assert themselves against the world, and the mug slid closer to the edge. Inch by inch, taking so much effort until finally it tipped over the edge and vanished from sight.

The nice person turned around, looking down at the mug that had just hit the floor.

I did that! That was me! I wonder if... if I can...

oh

groaning painful spinning

exhausting why did touch

push back

Their hands rose to their head, the world retaliating with righteous fury for her having touched the mug. It was horrible, disorienting, whatever they were it felt like they were falling apart.

The Void would end this.

It waited. It always waited, just out of sight, just around the corner, always encompassing and eclipsing everything with its cavernous endless hunger and patience.

No pain no suffering no spinning exhausting pushback no judgement no hate no looks

No NO

NO!

I can't become nothing yet, I don't know what I am

The nice person can help, she's special and unique and powerful and cool and maybe she knows what I am?

When the world returned, the space inside the space that held the nice person and her dishes, there were two of her. Was that possible? Can there be two of a person?

The second also had horns, a tail, big long (flappy flying spiky warm)wings and they were looking at each other from opposite sides of the space. Moving closer, looking closer, revealed they were not the same; one was older, with slightly different lines on her face.

The first one, the nice safe cool friend, suddenly rushed forward. Her eyes were sad, and wet like before appeared on her face but it meant something different this time.

Sad? That sounds appropriate, but why would she be sad?

The two of them fell to the floor, both sad together, then nothing happened. Not that nothinghappened, there was stuff happening, not nothing, but they remained still and unmoving in the middle of the sad.

This wasn't interesting, as cool as the tails and the horns and the wings were.

Maybe there's more to watch. What about the other friend? The one that the nice safe friend made food for?

That friend had left and gone, but where? Surely there were more places than here and there, the other space with the many people. They had gone through many places to get here, right?

More movement, floating away from the first friend and through the

(blocking safety hard dry)

walls that separated the different spaces. So many different spaces and ideas but all so empty compared to the nice friend's space. Were there other people? Where had the other friend gone?

More time, always time stretching out as spaces came and went. In between every space, behind amongst above below every space sat the Void, the infinite chasm that did not push but never hid. Ignore the Void, the Void was not them but it wanted them and their presence and their nothing because it too was nothing and it promised comfort and familiarity but the time was not now. Now it was time to find the other person.

How much time had passed?

Floating endlessly through the (comfort warm safe) homes that were all the same but also different until finally she appeared. The other friend! She had shorter hair, it was lighter than the other hair which was strange because shouldn't there be more difference? Everything was so similar here, it was all the same but lighter and darker and some half-formed idea said this was wrong but how?

She sat on the floor, leaning against a wall just like earlier but now she was alone and without the nice safe friend. Alone she was different, her face made different movements and instead of wide and welcoming she was small and shaking. She held her legs close, squeezing them tight to become as small as possible and the shaking continued but why? There was so much space between this friend and the nice safe warm friend but they did the same things anyways?

Why were they so sad?

This one was also (sad wet hide alone) crying and kept crying for so long. Was there something they knew that was a secret that made them sad?

Could I figure out what it is? Maybe I need another sense, I made one earlier and it let me move the mug! Which got the attention of the safe friend! That has to be it, the secret they have that I don't. This doesn't feel like a touch secret. Something else.

The decision made, they looked back to the world and found the other friend in (comfort soft squishy) bed. She had moved, but the sad continued and she kept crying, but she wasn't shaking anymore. Ideas of purpose returned, but this time the purpose wasn't to touch it was to hear because the secret they all had was sound, it had to be. Sound didn't come from hands, though, it came from the head, the ears.

Being here revealed the secret, the sheets rustling and the beeping from the walls but most importantly the other friend. She cried and sniffed and wept and under her breath she muttered something to herself.

"I miss you..."

That was a new idea. Miss. This idea was lonely, scared, frightened, but now they were confused. Missing required something, but what? People miss... others. They miss people they like and when those people aren't around they get sad. Maybe these people all miss the same person? Or each other? That had to be it, they were sad when not together.

But the safe friend was sad with another. They were sad together.

Huh.

The sound began to hurt, the world spinning and groaning and thrashing hurling skittering gnashing

horrible awful air sharp close no

no

NO

the Void can stop this the Void promises a blanket like the other friend has it releases frees embraces it knows the answer because the answer is nothing because that's what I am

I'm

nothing

The spinning stopped and the horrible pain stopped with it. The Void was still present, hiding and alone and threatening but it waited because it was eternal. Now was not the time, there was still too much that didn't make sense.

I still don't know what I am.

Watching, waiting, this time they waited for others like how the Void waited for them. The other friend did nothing, however. When she finished crying she closed her eyes and just... stopped. This too felt familiar, this was (tired comfy resting) sleep and they needed to do it for long stretches of time or else walking around was too tiring.

So they waited.

They watched as the people slept, moving to and fro and looking for interesting things to watch but there was so little happening at this time. Eventually all the people woke up and began walking around again. They followed the people, the crowds, watching and learning and seeing what everyone did. So many people, all doing different things, all of them using their senses so easily without any of the horrible terrible spinning pain.

It doesn't hurt them because they're not wrong. I hurt when I try to use my senses because

I'm wrong.

Time marched ever onwards, the people meeting in groups and talking and hugging and leaving. Not everyone cried when they left, in fact, very few people cried overall. The next interesting thing that happened was at a giant building filled with grass-that-wasn't-grass. The safe friend and the other friend were here, walking through the strange powder on the ground as they made shapes and didn't make shapes until they started to try something.

The safe friend made her extra pieces appear again, her tail and horns and wings and she ran forward. She jumped into the air, a look of determination on her face as her wings pushed her higher into the air.

Following them, curious, they watched as the cool safe friend winced and then fell. This, too, was an idea. The thought that not being on the ground was hard, and was something that only special cool safe friend could do. But she couldn't? Thoughts crept in, ideas that this felt familiar for some reason; the idea that this friend could fly but also couldn't fly and there were reasons but they were big and complicated.

But I can move everywhere I want. I can be near the ground and not near the ground and it all feels the same.

But I know why.

The world doesn't affect me like it does them because

I'm wrong.

Ideas compounded and built and wove together and eventually the world made more sense. Being present still scared them, it always made the world harsh and painful, but at times the curiosity was too strong to ignore. Once, when everyone was sleeping and the world was quiet, they moved high above the buildings and the campus and were shocked at how much stuff they saw.

There was so much world!

A little too much, perhaps. The world was scary, the world came with ideas of strangers and judgement and fear and wouldn't it be easier to just stay put? To stay where the friends were? The nice, safe friend and the other friend with the shorter lighter hair, yes, but they eventually discovered other friends.

One of them had the shortest hair of them all, but some of it was missing. This friend had drawn squiggly lines all over her head and, the coolest part of all, was that they glowed sometimes. The next time all the people came together, they actually decided to follow this person around, and that's when they met the strange new people that were confusing and boring but also seemed to make the glowing friend sad. Not the crying lonely sad, but a different sad that made her not look at people and grow quiet and small.

These new people took the glowing friend and made her walk them around campus. They did so many cool things! They made circles appear from nothing and they made walls disappear! The coolest part was when they returned to the building that was next to the big field. They walked downstairs, made another wall vanish, and then talked near a big circle on the floor.

When the glowing friend walked onto the circle, she glowed again and then vanished completely! The idea got them so excited, they moved closer and stayed in the same place the glowing friend was.

Suddenly, the world changed. But it didn't. It stayed the same, with the same shapes and lines and ideas, but now all the walls and people looked even more interesting. Seeing it now, for the first time, brought back memories of even more ideas, and they stared at the other people while they tried to figure out what they were seeing. The clothes these people wore, but also the people themselves, they were (bright vibrant fun interesting) colorful!

The entire world seemed to light up in this circle, there were colors and before they knew it, sounds were appearing as well, sounds that didn't even make the world spin and shake and hurt.

The people spoke of gateways and bridges, but also of other circles that they seemed even more excited about. Would the other circles be like this one? Would they make the world more colorful and bring back the sound in a way that didn't spin and hurt and confuse?

Following them was easy, as was following everyone. They needed to use stairs and hallways but they didn't, they could freely float through the walls and the floors and go anywhere and see everything they wanted. The crowd of people, the mean ones that made the glowing friend sad, they got in an elevator and traveled down, down, down until arriving in a large, scary space with stains on the floors and the walls. There was another circle down here, yes, but it wasn't like the circle above. It did not make the world brighter, but now that they'd seen it, they wanted more of it. For the first time in ages they thought of purpose again, they focused on sound and hearing and tried to extend themselves to listen to what it was the group of people were saying.

"--and regarding the repairs? Can these seals be restored or will we need to fully rebuild them from the bottom up?"

"Hm..."

"Elijah? Speak up, please."

"Did you know that people bathing in Ancient Rome used to have their clothes stolen on a regular basis? They found these tablets that curse the thieves, see, and they're shockingly common for--"

"The circles, Elijah. Please stay on task."

"Right, sorry, the circles. I think we'll be able to restore them, but we'll need to run quite a few tests to determine which changes we'll need to make."

"And what if we wanted to alter their function?"

"I'm sorry?"

"We want to secure this place, obviously, but if we're going to be connected to every other plane in existence... I can't help but wonder if we should take advantage of this opportunity."

"I'm sorry, Headmistress, but 'take advantage?' What are you implying?"

"We have direct access to the entirety of existence, Palesa. Think of the good we could do if, instead of relying on standard runes, we took our magic from the planes themselves?"

"Surely you don't mean--"

"We siphon the energy directly. Think of all the times we've been hamstrung by our lack of resources! The Headmistress simply wants us to reach our true potential, as she's always wanted. No more half-measures, no more fighting with our hands tied behind our backs while the people with real power destroy this world piece by piece!"

"But, that much power--"

"Is what we are owed, Miss Tsopnang. We've been sidelined for too long. Need I remind you of your status when you took your position? You would be wise to remember your place."

"I-I'm sorry, Headmistress. I did not mean to speak out of line."

"Elijah. We need your expertise here, more than ever. Now that you've seen the circles, is this possible?"

"I mean, the scope of what you're proposing... it's never been attempted before. It's a fascinating idea, but I'd need to do considerable research before I can say for sure if--"

"Certainly something we can discuss at another time, Mr. Jun. In the meantime, let's take a look at Miss Blackwood's notes on the matter."

At that point, the glowing friend had finished her own trip down the elevator, and the conversation changed directions rather suddenly. Was glowing friend not supposed to hea--

Tired spinning pain ache dizzy

Ugh.

That was so much hearing... how do they manage it? That's a bad question, I know that; it's easy for them but hard for me because

I'm wrong.

The world was fuzzy and painful and tiring and when they finally regained their eyes the people had left. Their absence, however, didn't change the fact that the conversation had seemed weird. Those people did not talk like they were friends, they talked like... not-friends? They talked like (bad evil mean) enemies that were forced to talk against their wishes.

They're nothing like the friends I normally follow. I like them. I wonder what the nice safe friend is doing?

This trip across campus proved much easier. Not only did they recognize the different buildings, but they had started assigning feelings to them in an effort to keep them distinct. They didn't know where the feelings came from, sometimes they just appeared, but they felt right so they kept it up.

When they found the safe cool friend again, she was frantically pacing back and forth in her home, holding pieces of food in her hands and occasionally eating them.

She seems upset. I don't like that. The last time I was here she was sad, along with the other person that looked like her.

The friend eventually moved to her (cold box) fridge, moved everything around, then grumbled and closed the door without getting any more food. Instead, she walked back to her bedroom, seemingly with a new idea. Once inside, her clothes vanished in a flash of dancing sparkling fire, leading to all sorts of new, confusing ideas.

She's not wearing clothes! This... this is... there are ideas tied to this, but I don't know if they're good or bad. Both? There's excitement and nervousness and shame and part of me

(the higher part, the head part with the eyes)

it feels warm? Why is it warm? Is the safe friend doing something to me?

She did not lay on her side, she did not pull the covers over her. Instead, she sat up with her back against the wall and closed her eyes, as if willing herself to be as close to sleep as possible without actually sleeping.

And then nothing

(not nothing but nothing)

happened. She stayed perfectly still, her body slowly rising and falling and (that was another idea, that was) breathing.

Safe friend stayed like that for a very long time. The fact that it was sleep-but-not-quite-sleep made them very interested and they decided they wanted to stay and watch. Something about this person made them feel safe, that much they knew, but new emotions began to swirl and dance and think and influence. Looking at this person, with her horns and wings and her tail that was so cool; it inspired. It encouraged purpose and wanting, but then the wanting emotion inspired sadness. Was that the gulf between emotions? The ability to want meant the ability to not have, and thus to be sad?

I want to want. Wanting feels good, it feels purposeful and this person makes me want to

BE

BE like them BE cool BE important BE special and unique and not nothing and just

BE

Why can't I? She makes it look so easy.

She makes me want to try.

The first step was to mimic her. Maybe they had different bodies, but couldn't they both rest on a surface? She didn't float and hover, she had something holding her to the ground and even though it seemed to make her angry sometimes it also was part of what made her her.

They floated down to the ground in front of the bed, pretending like they had a body just like the other people on campus, and they thought. They thought of all the senses they'd experienced ever since existing; the sight, the sound, the touch, all of it. Maybe the secret was combining these things together, putting them all inside and pushing them together and adding in the special thing that held people to the ground.

Maybe then I could be.

Purpose and idea floated through their head, and when they looked down they saw what could only be described as a body but it was theirs?! It had arms and legs and they felt and smelled and heard but it took so much effort to get here. Being here, having a body, it made them want to buckle and spin and let go but they wanted so badly to be like her to be special and alive like she was.

Something new, a feeling, a grabbing feeling reached for their body and pulled them down. They landed on the ground, they felt the soft carpet and heard the rumbling air conditioning but then all of those feelings were eclipsed by the pain.

horrible terrible spinning piercing agonizing PAIN

It was awful, it hurt beyond anything she'd imagined and she screamed because it hurt so bad and she had no way to make it stop

except I do I just have to stop

stop

stop

STOP

All their feelings, the carpet, the air conditioning, the gravity holding them down, everything vanished when their body vanished.

Why did it hurt?! Why am I wrong?!! I just want to BE but even though it's so easy for her trying to BE makes me hurt and scream and cry and I hate it but I want it so badly!

WHY AM I WRONG?!

Even though their body had vanished they still felt the pain the spinning the horrible terrible awful shaking

it wants

the Void would stop this it would make everything quiet again

But there's so much I don't know, I still don't know what or who I am and I don't know why everyone is sad

I need to know because what if knowing helps?

no

no

When the world returned, when the spinning stopped and the vision came back, the safe friend was gone. The lights in the window hinted that much more time had passed, and now they were alone and memories of the wanting and the lack of having returned.

I don't want to be alone.

I want to find my friends.

Are they my friends? I didn't mean to think that, but I did, and... it feels right, for some reason. I don't like seeing them sad, does that make us friends?

We're so different, though.

They're all cool and special and unique and I'm barely even here. I try to be here and it hurts.

Wandering towards the outside, finding friends proved difficult. No matter where they looked, the only people they found on campus were other students. With little else to do, and no one especially interesting to watch, they tried to learn. They were scared of using all their senses, it had been so painful last time, but small stretches of being present, just a little bit, seemed easier the more they tried. Their favorite, at least for now, was hearing, because it was the most common thing. All the students were constantly talking, and the more they listened, the more they learned.

Just like the trees and the buildings and the other ideas, the people also had names. All the students had one, names that designated who they were and where they were and, when spoken, the name drew the attention of that person, who became more present upon hearing it.

Names had power.

Do I have a name? Everything and everyone else has a name. Would having one make it easier to be? Maybe I'm different because I don't have a name.

I'm wrong, aren't I?

While thoughts of names at times distracted them, it wasn't enough to prevent them from learning more and more about the world. They learned the names of other students, but also listened to how they talk, growing more familiar with theirlanguage.

Moving around, floating from building to building as they dipped in and out of conversations, they eventually found their way back to the strange circle that had made the world brighter. They had fond memories of all the colors they'd seen, how the world had lit up and felt soalive and how it hadn't demanded pain and confusion to make it happen.

Being in the circle felt relaxing, it was so nice to have color and sound without needing to hurt. They had no idea how much time passed as they enjoyed themselves in the circle, but eventually their relaxation was paused when they heard voices echoing around them. Having taken enough of a break from being around people, their curiosity got the better of them and they floated closer. They'd gotten better at finding everyone that wandered the campus; after all, the students couldn't float off the ground or through walls, so they had very few places to go. Eventually, they found the very same group of people they'd followed a ways back, the ones that had talked about gateways and circles and siphons and clothes-stealing.

At first they were excited, last time these people had wandered campus with the glowing friend, but this time was different. Glowing friend was nowhere to be seen. Maybe they would return eventually? The thought of seeing them again was nice, even if they didn't know why.

The group walked all over campus, talking more and more of circles and sigils and plans for the future. After so much following and watching people, they began to feel like they had a better grasp of reading feelings and emotions, and they put those skills to the test here. They watched body language, the way the people held themselves and spoke and acted, and they realized there was so much more to language than just words.

These people called themselves a Coven. There were five of them, four woman and one man, and they all had different opinions about the circles and the gates. One woman, however, seemed to be in charge of all the others. She wore her hair in a tight bun, tiny glasses sat at the end of her nose, and when she talked everyone else withered away. At a certain point, three of the Coven people left the group and walked in a separate direction, while the mean lady in charge took the man down to one of the circles on campus.

The man that spoke was smaller, but every time he talkedthey got the impression he was very nice. Like everyone else, he seemed scared to say things to the woman in charge, but he kept talking anyways.

"--I just think the practices are mutually exclusive. The students around here have taken to calling the network a Gate, and I think that's a very apt comparison. If we think on those terms, the only way to siphon the energy you're looking for is to leave the gate partially open. The more open the gate is, the more magic we could draw, but the greater the risk we create for the students living here. We've already seen the damage that leaving the soft spot exposed can bring, Headmistress, and I question the necessity of--"

The mean lady in charge, the Headmistress, cut him off. "It is not your job to question, Mr. Jun. You will do as I ask, or else we'll have a separate discussion about your financial situation. You think I haven't noticed the suspicious 'increased reagent costs' you've fabricated in your reports?"

The nice man seemed surprised by the statement. "O-oh, I didn't... Headmistress, about that, I... what I mean to say is--"

"I will repeat myself, Mr. Jun; that isnot the conversation we're having now. But we will be forced to have it if you repeat what you just spoke to anyone else. Do we have an understanding?"

"Y-yes, Headmistress," the nice man muttered.

"Very good. I expect your final notes by the end of the week," the Headmistress said, turning and walking away.

Ugh, she's so mean!

With the conversation over, Mr. Jun stayed put while the Headmistress turned and walked away. Following them was easy, as was following everyone. Walls and doors and floors meant nothing, they were no different than the air, and something about this person made more thoughts appear. Thoughts of wanting the world to be less mean, of time spent thinking of ways to help, to reduce the mean and the hurt of the world.

Maybe that's who I am.

Maybe I'm here to help.

Can I help by learning about the Headmistress? Earlier, they stopped talking when the glowing friend appeared, and they seemed to go out of their way to avoid all the other people on campus. If their power comes from their secrets... maybe making them not secrets would help!

The Headmistress walked on her own for quite some time. She traveled the campus, eventually leaving it entirely as she approached the buildings that looked different on the outside of the school. This was the furthestthey'd ever been since existing, and a twinge of fear appeared, but determination won in the end. This person knew something, and following them would be the helpful thing to do, even if they didn't know exactly how yet.

They eventually stopped at a large, strange looking house far away from the school. Going inside felt strange and tingly--even the Headmistress seemed to feel something, as she stopped and looked around for a moment--but there were no problems afterwards.

They looked around, putting their language and understanding skills to the test as they tried to describe this house to themselves. The main entrance opened into a grand foyer with old paintings of important looking people lining the walls. Several entryways hinted at equally elaborate rooms elsewhere in the house; large double doors led to a lavish study with a roaring fireplace, a decorative arch elsewhere showcased a large dining table that several people were setting plates and silverware on. The Headmistress ignored all of these things, instead walking up an extravagant staircase, complete with immaculately polished handrails and plush green carpet running up the middle. When she arrived at the second floor, she pivoted to a room at the end of a hallway, then firmly knocked on the door there.

When it opened, they saw another one of the Coven members, but they didn't know the name of this one. She had soft features, with long hair that cascaded down her shoulders, partially obscuring one side of her face.

"Oh, Headmistress Davenport, I wasn't expecting--"

Without saying anything, the Headmistress pushed past this lady into her room. "That's because I did not tell you I was arriving."

"Right, of course," the soft lady said, nodding slowly in respect. "How can I help you?"

"We need to talk about Miss Blackwood."

"About Tessa? Whatever for?"

"She's still hiding something from us, Miss Bishop. Her incompetence runs deep, and despite everything we are offering her, she still refuses to show us the respect we are owed."

"How can you be so sure? I read Imani's report, and it seemed remarkably consistent with Tessa's statements to us earlier. I've even spoken with her myself, and she seems quite confident that, apart from the incursion, there are no other concerns on campus."

"And yet reports from Miss Tsopnang and Miss Gautier would beg to differ. I fear you are far too trusting, as usual; do you really think that Miss Blackwood fought past the skeletal guardians of Purgatory with a few nondescript students by her side? No, there's something else going on here, and you're going to get to the bottom of this."

"Me? How?"

"Pull the truth out of her. She trusts you, doesn't she?"

"I would never betray that trust, Headmistress. She's been through so much already."

"Is that so?" The Headmistress paused, clicking her tongue under her breath. "Hm. If you don't, we may need to strengthen our security just to be safe. I've noticed a curious gap in our protective wards, ones that might allow traversal through the Dreamscape; perhaps it's time we addressed that weakness? Come to think of it, I recall seeing a similar weakness back at Headquarters..."

Miss Bishop gasped, holding a hand to her lips. "I... would hate for you to feel unsafe, Headmistress. Perhaps it is best that I talk to Miss Blackwood."

"I appreciate you coming to your senses, Miss Bishop. I eagerly await your report."

With their conversation seemingly over, the Headmistress turned and left the room. Miss Bishop seemed to be troubled by what they'd discussed, but it was hard to know why. Still, the curiosity that had drawnthem here spurred them to keep lurking, and they began floating from room to room as they looked for more interesting scenes to watch. Unfortunately, they had to stop listening as intently as they'd done with Miss Bishop and the Headmistress; the world was beginning to spin and lurch, and they wanted to avoid losing themselves any further.

They learned many small things that day, though it was impossible to say how much would be helpful. A few names here and there, a couple pieces of information about magic, but much of what they learned proved too confusing to understand.

After spending the entire night, and a small part of the morning, watching the Coven in their fancy house, the curiosity had faded. They drifted through the front door, the world fuzzy as they thought through everything they'd learned recently. Was it helpful? They'd hoped that learning about the Headmistress and her Coven might help, but as they thought back, they struggled to remember the train of logic that had brought them to that conclusion.

So many ideas, so many conflicting thoughts and people. How do they manage? It almost seemed like there was a missing sense, something that allowed people to communicate even more effectively, but without using words.

Their thoughts were interrupted when people started walking through and around them. Dozens of people, all bundled up in thick coats and scarves, hustling in and out of buildings. Their attention eventually snapped to one pair of people that, for some reason, felt familiar. A shorter man with hunched posture and gray hair, along with a woman with faded hair of her own.

These two people... why do I know them? In some ways, they almost feel similar to the safe friend, but in a different, opposite way. They make me feel... wrong.

But that makes them right, doesn't it?

I am wrong.

That's the one thing I remember most.

The confusing emotions drovethem to follow the strange pair of people. They muttered to themselves, words that they didn't listen to for fear of the world spinning out of control again. Even more confusing, the couple seemed to be heading for the campus. Their faces were torn between worry and anger, more things that almost made sense, and that's when they met someone else.

Glowing friend!

The short-haired girl with the glowy symbols on her head had been walking around the outside of campus, along with another person that felt somehow safe and familiar. How did they know each other? They began talking, andthey decided to risk listening in.

"Excuse me, you two! Are you students here?"

"Um, yes?"

"Perfect, perfect. See, we were hoping you might be able to help us out. Our son is a student here, and we haven't heard from him in a while."

"Well, what's his name?

"You wouldn't happen to know Daniel Baker, would you?"

That name.

Why do I know that name?

It feels... personal. Deep, meaningful in some way I can't comprehend. And it's being said by these two people that make me feel wrong...

why?

Is that...

Is that who I am?

Returning from their thoughts and looking up, they saw the glowing friend and the strange couple yelling and screaming at each other. They all looked sad, hurt, betrayed, angry, and dozens of other emotions that made them feel bad. What did it mean?

If that's me, the real me... Does that mean they don't like me? Even talking about me just made everyone sad and angry. That would make sense, wouldn't it?

Of course they don't like me,

I'm wrong.

Desire to escape the fight and the bad feelings pushed them to hurry away. They traveled back towards campus, ignoring walls and doors like always as they tried to look for something distracting. They hoped they might run into the nice, safe friend, perhaps then they might feel better about the fight they'd just seen.

Instead, they found a large group of people gathering in the center of the campus. Crowds of students, all with their own large jackets, stood in groups as they awkwardly looked around. One girl in particular, a cheerful one that they remembered seeing with the Coven on occasion, was running around and talking with everyone, pointing and smiling as she did. Following her around proved to be beneficial, as she eventually led them to the safe friend!

It felt like it had been ages since they'd seen the safe friend, and they were determined to learn more about them. For some reason, they didn't have any of their extra pieces with them; no horns, no tail, no wings. Were those a secret?

As time passed, everyone in the field began picking up and clearing pieces of trees that had broken off. Some had been lying on the ground previously, others were being shaken off the trees by one of the Coven Members. Tsopnang? That name sounded familiar. She was walking around, holding up her hands and moving the trees without touching them. She was able to pull branches off, make new ones, and watching her work was almost tempting enough to distract from the safe friend.

Almost.

Watching the safe friend proved incredibly valuable, as they finally learned her name: Amara. Despite being so sad for so long, being here with all the other students seemed to cheer her up, at least a little bit. She talked and smiled with other students, picking up large branches and slowly gathering them all in a large pile.

Once the field had been completely cleared, with all the branches safely in a large pile, the other students all started leaving. Amara, for whatever reason, decided to walk over to the Coven person and strike up a conversation. It didn't seem especially impactful, which meantthey didn't exert themselves to listen in, but they still eagerly watched. When Tsopnang held up her hands, fire sprang up in the pile of branches, and its existence seemed to cheer Amara up even more. Hints of color almost broke through intotheir world, making Amara seem that much more interesting.

Amara eventually left the conversation with the Coven person, along with her friend thatthey'd also just learned the name of: Vee. The two of them started off in one direction, stopped, then Amara pulled them somewhere else.

The two of them walked in a directionthey had never bothered going before, and they eagerly followed. It was another building that seemed designed with many small homes, a dormitory, and they watched as Amara and Vee slowly walked up three flights of stairs to get to the top floor. They picked a room, went inside, and the looks on their faces changed again.

Being here was important, for some reason.

Amara's clothes changed again, into a hoodie with a red stripe and a shirt with a person on it. Her new clothes seemed familiar, but that feeling paled in comparison to whatthey felt when Amara opened the door.

The room on the other side was filled with games, figures, posters, and plushies. Soft little creatures and critters that sat on desks, in drawers, and in a pile on the bed in the corner. This space, in much the same way Amara had, made them feel safe. This room was familiar and comfortable, a bastion of expression that defied the monotony and tyranny of the rest of the world. The safety also came with confusion, however, as they'd never been here before.

Right?

How could something feel familiar if they'd never seen it before? Why did so many things on campus inspire emotions and ideas, when they'd only started existing recently?

Come to think of it, when they'd followed the strange couple earlier today, they'd heard a name that they briefly thought was theirs. It had made them feel bad, yes, but why did they think they deserved a name? They didn't exist the way Amara and Vee did, they were invisible and could float through walls, but couldn't they only do that because they were wrong?

The thought that everyone knew who they were... it didn't make sense. The fear that they were nothing had been following them around ever since they'd started existing, but could there be more to their story?

If they'd existed before they'd existed, in some form that everyone else knew, wouldn't that explain everything?

But what if I already know that answer? My existence before now was as Daniel Baker, and no one likes that person. That name made glowing friend and her other friend angry. They didn't want that person, and if I'm that person...

That idea feels familiar. Not being wanted.

Even if I existed before I existed, I was wrong and no one wanted me.

Their thoughts grew more complicated as they tried to eliminate the discrepancies between them. They wanted answers, that's why they'd been following everyone around these last few days, but who said the answers were going to be good?

Movement caught their attention, pulling their focus away from their thoughts. Amara had left the room, changed her clothes back to normal, and began walking down the stairs again. Vee followed close behind, a melancholy look on her face as she watched Amara without saying anything. The two of them walked towards the field, navigating around the trees while briefly pausing to watch the Coven person slowly bring back all the grass in the area. Soon after, Vee grabbed her hand, and the two resumed their trip back to the building closest to the field, the one students called Lysander Hall.

This is the place with the circle that makes everything brighter! Is that where they're going?

Sure enough, only a few minutes later, Amara was standing outside the wall that hid the circle. She placed a hand on it, eventually burning away the wall, and then walked closer until she was standing at the edge of the circle.

Excited to be back here, they floated inside the circle and spun to face Amara. The colors of the room slowly returned, the world becoming brighter, and it felt like a burden was being lifted from their shoulders as they moved closer to Amara. It took a second for them to focus on the sound, but once they heard her, they listened intently.

"--but had she listened to me, none of us would be standing here today. She faced down a madman with nothing but her own confidence, purely out of the desire to help. She refused to back down; she refused to accept that the world around her was beyond fixing. I've never known someone with a bigger heart, and I owe her my life. I only wish there was more I could do to celebrate her."

Confidence? Celebrate? Who is Amara talking about?

Why did everything she said sound so familiar?

She's sad again, even though she's with Vee. The room they were at earlier, it wasn't either of theirs, but I felt safe there in a way I haven't felt anywhere else since I began. Not even here, in this circle, do I feel that way; it's just easier for me to see the world the way she does.

This person she's talking about, Amara misses her, but it's more than that. She misses her and wants her back, but can't have that. I felt this earlier, the gulf between wanting and not having. Whoever this person is, Amara thinks she's confident and helpful. It's almost the way I look at Amara; she's so cool and special and unique, but now she feels the same about this person?

The person whose room she was at earlier?

The same room that I felt safe in. Almost like it was my home.

Does...

does Amara miss...

me?

Emotions flooded their thoughts, memories of everything they'd felt and seen and heard ever since they started existing. All their friends being sad, not becausethey were wrong, but because they were gone. Pieces of the puzzle started sliding into place, recognition turning into clarity. The reason thatother name felt bad is because it wasn't theirs. They'd cast that name out, and Tessa was mad that it had come back; she was mad thatthey were gone. Amara and Vee were sad thatthey were gone, and the act of them leaving had saved everyone's lives.

More memories, proper memories of the time before they thought they'd started existing. Memories of bad people and monsters trying to hurt their friends, a burning desire to help, to stop the pain and keep their friends safe.

They shook, their form briefly scattering as feeling began to accompany the memories. A knife in their hands, its cold metal plunging into the bad person that wanted to hurt Amara. Sharp pain across their face, falling to the ground and dropping the knife as the bad person started to walk closer, the monsters around him stumbling and shrieking in pain themselves.

"Worthless nobody!"

Another ripple in the world, their body shaking as they fell to the ground, and the feelings kept coming.

Being dragged across the field, horrid ghastly metal squeezing tight and drawing blood as they reached for Amara. They stopped, suspended between the worlds of life and death as Amara held them tight, trying to pull them back, but that's when the air became wrong. It grabbed their body, unimaginable energies sawing their existence in half, and memories of that pain returned.

Immense pain beyond comprehension racked their body, tears streamed down their face as they remembered the lights and the screaming. The colors left the world, all shreds of happiness vanished as they desperately pleaded for something, anything that could make the pain stop.

But there was something.

The Void.

The end of everything, the space between spaces that didn't exist and offered oblivion and nothingness to all. Its silence was deafening, it called to them in a way it never had before, offering an end to the pain.

They stepped towards it, their hands digging into their head as pain and torment threatened to undo them all over again. The Void grew, pushing at the seams of reality and breaking down the walls to spread its embrace, its eternal embrace that offered a way out of the pain. They felt themselves being pulled in, they wanted nothing more than to make that final step and end it all.

Nothing stopped them from falling.

Nothing stopped them?

No.

NO!

I am NOT NOTHING.

I AM NOT WORTHLESS!

I WILLNOT GIVE UP!

Turning away from the Void, they fought through the pain and stepped back towards the circle. The pain was horrible, it was the worst thing that they'd ever experienced, but it also meant they werealive.

Another step, and their body collapsed. They fell to their hands and knees, the world coming into focus around them. Looking up, they saw Amara and Vee turning to leave, walking towards the staircase at the end of the hallway, and some part of them whispered that this was their last chance to reach out. Their thoughts repeated themselves, fighting through the pain and the horrible memories to latch onto the things that truly mattered.

Memories of their life before.

No.

Memories ofher life.

She had a name. It was a name she loved, that she'd picked for herself, and it gave her purpose. It had saved her before, and it could save her again.

I amnot nothing.

I amnot worthless.

I

AM

CHLOÉ!

All of her senses returned, the vibrancy of the world exploding around her. The cold concrete underneath her hands, the air that filled her lungs, the colors of the basement around her. After a deep breath, she looked back up at her friends, the same ones she'd fought so hard to protect from that monster, and her voice finally returned to her.

"AMARA! I'M STILL HERE!!"