CHAPTER 12: LAW OF DUALITY
"Opposites can be defined only in relation to each other."
(Whitcomb 15)
Past—Carl's POV
"Your Gift, Carl, is Timelessness. One who transcends Time." Jacob finishes.
Carl shifts on the ground uneasily, folding his hands in his lap and suddenly finding them much more interesting than the world around him. "I don't know what you're talking about." He says truthfully.
"I told you, you wouldn't, but hear me out all the same."
Carl nods once, tersely, without looking up.
"What if I were to tell you that the Craft really did work?"
"The Craft?" Carl tentatively returns his gaze to Jacob's.
"Witchcraft," Jacob says, indicating the circle they were in.
"And what if I were to tell you that Witchcraft isn't the only source of Magick in this world? What if I said that all religions have their own Power? Would you believe me?"
Carl couldn't answer that. "I'm not sure..."
"It's the Power of Belief, Carl."
Jacob runs his hand through his hair, mulling something over. "You see, there's Magick rooted in every tradition..."
He looks at Carl. "Have you ever wondered how religion came to be in humanity?"
Carl shakes his head. He tried to stay neutral as far as religious things went. More often than not it was like treading on eggshells. He could already tell this was going to be one of those times. What can he say that won't offend?
"I'm sorry; I'm more of a math and science kind of guy then a philosopher..."
"...or a Wizard." Jacob finished for him. "You'd be surprised just how well math and science fit into what I have to say next."
Carl's eyebrows rise briefly, then knit into a frown.
"Wizardry?"
Jacob nods. "Different from Witchcraft. First, answer my question on how religion came to be."
Carl shrugs. "I'm not sure. I suppose..." he stops himself, placing a hand behind his head and rubbing. "I don't really know, to tell you the truth. I've never thought about it..."
"What do you know? What do you believe? What don't you believe?"
"Why is this so important?"
"Because if we're going to recreate the world, then we have to do it right. And we must know the limitations of your perceptions."
Carl's eyes widen. "What do you mean 'recreate'?"
Jacob waves away his concerns. "Later, now what is your Truth? I need to know where you're coming from..."
"Why...?"
"What do you believe in?"
Carl swallows hard.
"What are you asking me?"
"Exactly what I said, 'what do you believe in?'"
Carl stays quiet, still unwilling to answer, mostly for one reason...
"Your family and friends are not here Carl," Jacob encourages, "nor is anyone else besides us. What you say will remain in confidence between you and me. I shall not judge you if you do not judge me in return. It's time you thought about this."
"It's not that I've never thought about it before," Carl hastens to reassure, "It's just what I think I know scares me. And what I don't know—which is pretty much everything—terrifies me..."
Jacob nods. "Understandably. Go on."
Carl takes a deep breath.
"I don't believe in God," he says in a rush, with conviction, hearing it ring in his ears for the first time.
Carl stills, taking it all in, half expecting to be smote. He thinks about what it means... Then he sighs.
"Well," he continues, "that's not quite right.
"I do believe there's some One," he allots, "there must be some Higher Power, or Powers, because I don't think we're here by accident. I don't know what our purpose is, but I think we have one. I believe in clichés too: good will triumph over evil; humans are inherently good; and Love—true Love never dies."
Carl finishes, not saying a word more. He knows how all that must sound but he is a romanticist, a dreamer, despite his inherently logical nature. He's always known that about himself and he won't apologize for it.
"And you are absolutely sure of that last one?" Jacob asks at last, neutrally.
Carl blinks. "What do you mean?"
Jacob sighs. "It's true that Love is the most powerful force in the universe..." He trails off and looks at something over Carl's shoulder for a while.
The moment stretches out long enough that, when Jacob does speak again, it startles Carl. "Naturally even the Lone One craves it—as It is wont to crave all power—but that Lust for power is the very reason why Love always eludes It."
"Lone One? You mentioned that before didn't you—you said whatever It is took my memories or something...?"
Jacob smiles, "You've been paying attention."
Carl scowls. "Of course I have."
"Then listen to me now: you have been charged with many duties in this Life, but the first and foremost is to prove one thing—prove that human beings are worthy of becoming Wizards."
Stunned, Carl doesn't have the slightest idea on how to respond to that...
Or even if he heard it right.
Carl makes an attempt to stand, but stops midway at the look in Jacob's eyes.
"I'm sorry that I had to spring this on you so suddenly Carl but, ironic as this is, we're running out of time."
"Huh? I thought you said..."
"I know what I said," Jacob takes in a deep breath, "and yes you do have the Gift, but even you have to obey certain rules—though once you learn them you can bend them to your will—but the rest of the world has to obey these laws even more so."
Jacob stands up and brushes himself off. "We have to hurry this along because the circle you created for banishing the Lone Power is weakening—it took a lot of energy to create it and you don't have enough power to recreate it yet. And if the Lone One finds us here, It'll kill us—and even the One's Champion will be powerless to stop It."
Carl pushes himself off the ground and mimics what Jacob did to shake the dirt from his clothes.
Jacob looks him up and down when Carl's done.
"Will you help me or not?"
Carl eyes him for a minute. "I'm not sure whether to believe you... can't you give me some concrete proof that this is real?"
"No."
Carl blinks at the one word answer, then shakes his head.
"Do I at least have your assurance that...?"
"No, no promises Carl."
Carl takes a deep breath, "Okay, what do I have to do?"
"Go home. Be with your family. Enjoy this Life for a little while. Because all things considered, even I cannot tell which world we'll end up in."
Carl was going to say something else but the macaw started screeching and flapping its wings. Then, before he could stop her, she took flight into the darkness.
Once she was out of sight, he looks to Jacob.
Only to find he's vanished as well...
"Wait!" He calls out to either of them, "How will I find you?"
He never gets an answer.
Past—Carl's POV
Carl returns to his house both physically and mentally exhausted.
He also returns to a worrying family and a tearful fiancé. He's barely stepped through the door before...
"Carl!" They all shout at once.
He winces.
"Mom? Dad? Cecelia?"
The three of them are standing inside the entrance to the living room.
"I can explain," he blurts out before remembering that no, he can't tell them anything.
"Hush! Your brothers are all asleep upstairs," Carl's mom whispers, conveniently forgetting the fact that she was the one who had yelled the loudest.
She ushers him inside and closes the door against the bitter cold.
Carefully he removes his boots and coat and anything else that is wet and cold and covered with snow.
Finally, once he's stripped of all his outdoor wear, he steps out of the hall and into the family room. The others follow him.
They each take a seat and Carl frowns when Cecelia doesn't sit next to him on the couch.
"What's wrong sweetheart?"
She shakes her head, "You tell me."
"She's right," Carl's father says, "What have you been doing, Carl?"
"I'm not sure myself," Carl says simply, creating a steeple with his fingers and leaning his head against them.
"What I am sure of," Carl continues, "is that I don't know what happened to me that night out in Central Park."
"You were struck by lightning!" Carl's mother says with tears in her eyes.
"Yes, but what was I doing out there in the first place?"
Carl's father shakes his head. "Nobody knows."
"Exactly, that's what I'm trying to find out!" Carl sighs.
"Please don't." That came from Cecelia, who is huddling in a corner of the room.
"Sweetie," he opens his arms to her. She makes her way over slowly and when she arrives, he wraps her in a hug.
"I'm sorry," he whispers into her hair. "I'm so sorry."
But Jacob was right... something was missing.
This just didn't feel right anymore.
...did it ever feel right in the first place?
He has memories of the two of them to be sure—lots of them—but they were becoming almost surreal as the days passed.
Since the hospital.
To the point where there almost seems to be a division in Carl's Life: his Life-Before and his Life-After.
"Does this have anything to do with our trip to San Francisco?"
Carl frowns, "What?"
"You don't remember?" Cecelia asks, looking surprised.
"Cecelia dear, the doctor said he would show signs of memory loss, especially of times near the event of the lightning strike." Carl's mom corrects her gently.
"What trip to San Francisco?" Carl asks, perplexed.
"We went to San Francisco to pick out a wedding dress..." Cecelia explains. "Or at least that's what I thought we were doing. Turns out we spent all that time looking for a friend of yours, but we never found him."
"My friend?" Him?
"You said his name was Tom Swale."
My name is Jacob, but Tom used to call me Jake."
"You really don't remember, do you."
Carl uses his middle finger and thumb to rub at his temples. His head has started hurting.
"Did we ever find him?" Carl finally asks.
"No," is the answer he gets, just the one word.
Carl sighs. That explains that, which in reality doesn't explain anything at all.
"I'm going to bed." Carl says at last. It's not an excuse to get away he tells himself, he really is tired.
"Sleep well son, and promise me that you won't go out there again?" Carl's father pleads.
Carl makes a noncommittal noise, because he can't keep such a promise, before making his way upstairs.
Upon reaching his room, and his bed, he simply collapses—exhausted beyond measure.