Cycle of Strife
Alexandria, Ptolemaic Egypt
8 BC
I sat there, as always. Cross legged, in the guise of an Egyptian scribe.
"Tell me Rekyt, is there time in the other place?" Answering questions no other sane magician will ever ask.
"No."
"I find that hard to imagine." I stirred. I doubted that. Ptolemy's imagination could encompass many a world other than ours.
"It's a complicated concept."
"I have the time." I debated my words for a moment. Yet another first with Ptolemy.
"Well, think of it like this: When you fall asleep, time in your dreams is entirely different to real time. Each dream lasts a mere 20 seconds or so, but days can pass in the dreams.
Time can also appear to run at different speeds – Said, Solomon:' if you sit on a hot stove for a minute, it seems like an hour. If you sit with a nice girl for an hour, it seems like a minute.'
That's the closest we can come to understanding time in the Other Place."
He pondered this silently. I pondered my words too; I've never explained it to a human before…
"That's quite useful Rekyt… very useful…" I look him in the eye.
"Useful for what?" He stirred.
"What?"
"You
said it was useful. I ask: useful for what?" He inclined his head.
"Nothing… Nothing… just…"
"Just what?"
"I have a theory…"
"You always have a theory."
"Yes, Rekyt. It's based on your reports on past history… so much blood for so little reason…" I sighed, Ptolemy was in one of those moods…
"There's always a reason… Greed, selfishness, megalomania, jealousy… base human nature… You never need a real reason..."
"So you think."
"Yes. Look at you. What reason do you have? Curiosity? Idiocracy? Or just plain megalomania?"
"Idealism." I was taken aback.
"Idealism?"
"Yes. The current path of magic… summoning spirits, enslaving them, using them… without understanding them can only lead to chaos… there must be another ways…"
"There are no musts in this world, Ptolemy… things will never change. Each summoning binds us in the absolute chains of pain. Each of your words only serves to increases the shackles… there is no room for idealism in a world of pain…" I rambled there. Ptolemy and I stared at each other.
"Do you think so, Rekyt." I looked him in the eye, weary.
"Yes. You are a fool not to." He stood up. The light reflected across his brown skin, unblemished beauty. He slowly moved his, with all the grace, wisdom and finality of god. He inclined his head, suddenly throwing his eyes into shadow…
"Is that so?" Perfection. Utter perfection.
"…"
"Do you not realize Rekyt?" the moment was over, the lighting changed. "The whole world is locked in a cycle of blood and pain, of strife. Empires rise to glory on your broken backs, then fall to dust, heralding the successor… only achieving more blood in our accounts! This must end, Rekyt… Another way must be found…" He grew thoughtful.
"What way?" I regained my thread. "There is no way! There has been no other way than the pentacle." I stared him down.
"No. Affa tells me, that in the northern wastes; there exist tribal shamans, who leave their own bodies and converse with spirits in their own element."
I laughed harshly. "That way is far too perilous for the corn fed priests of Egypt." I made it sound final. He looked at me again.
"Then perhaps…" He lowered his voice to the merest of whispers. "I have another way…"
"What?" He shook his head. And sat down, cross legged and picked up the quill.
"Tell me about the barriers that separate our world." An odd request. I shrugged and complied.
"There exist four impassable barriers that separate our world, they represent the magical element: Earth, fire, water and air-"
…
Everything was disjointed, shapeless.
Where am I?
A golem…
Ptolemy…
Alexandria…
Cologne…
Things started to make sense… the world slowly started to appear…
The modern world. 2000 years after Ptolemy's death.
Still trapped in the cycle of Strife.
…
Cologne, Prussia
0345 Hours
Alone. My essence was hurt.
But I was still alive.
I slowly and painfully got up and completed my charge of reporting to my master.
…
A door…
A door I had a key to. A door behind which lay the… truth…
I coveted the truth… afraid of it…
I walked up to the door… the corridor was endless…
Walking…
Walking…
Floating…
Flying…
At last… the door… I put the key in... Turn… the door opens… Slowly…
The truth… Afraid… so very afraid…
The door opens.
"Nnoooooooooooo!"
…
I wake up with a start. A dream. Just a dream.
I look at the person who woke me, Leni, a colleague.
"Wha-? What is it?" She stares at me for a moment. Barely concealing sock and panic.
"Magus is dead." My opens slightly.
There are very thin lines between dreams, waking and madness. I'm afraid I just crossed one.
…
I dimly realized I was in a dream.
A world without pain.
A world without slavery.
Freedom.
Lizzie back.
Michael back.
Francis back.
Alfafa back.
"…"
A world without magicians…
…
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