First thing’s first, I suppose. My name is Marten Randall, and I’m not quite sure what you should call me; there’s a patent silliness and pretension behind words like ‘wizard’ or ‘magician.’ I do not wear peaked hats, nor do I pull rabbits out of hats. I’m even uncomfortable with calling what I do ‘magic,’ because there’s a certain connotation that goes along with that term, making it sound miraculous or unsystematic. Rather, call me a scientist in the proper sense of the word. After all, my studies are certainly systematic and if I’m not peering into the mysteries of the natural world, no one else is.
Of course, scientists like myself don’t just emerge from the ether, rather, I was raised into a proud family tradition of exploring what my parents called ‘the tear.’ The current prevailing theory is that what laypeople would call ‘magic’ is merely the manipulation of rents into the fabric of the universe where different realities overlap with each other. Just as with geologic phenomena, where rock layers can become plastic due to heat and pressure such is the same with ‘magic.’ These rents or tears are what are commonly ley-lines which are unobservable through traditional methods, and have to be sought out through specially made glasses and measuring tools. Once on these ley-lines, using ‘sensitive’ parts of traditional reality, and with the right arrangement of signs and figures, we can bypass the traditional laws of physics and manipulate reality in ways that we see fit.
So, don’t think of magic wands or top hats, think of studious, careful and rigorous examination that has all the vigor of astronomy but with, let’s say…less traditional methods. By way of example and explanation, I want to explain my first experiment.
The family’s line of work was well known to me, and wasn’t something I was shielded from. However, the basement was strictly off-limits until my tenth birthday, a day that I doubt it’s possible to ever forget.
It was an unseasonably cold October morning. I woke up early because my parents had scheduled the day off months in advance with my school, and realized when I got out of bed that I had forgotten to feed Harry, my pet rabbit, at the time I was supposed to. In a panic, I ran downstairs, remembering my parents solemn warnings that, “If you want a pet, it’s your responsibility and yours alone.” That was two years ago, and I hadn’t forgotten to feed Harry a single time, and changed his bedding every day. So, you can imagine my near panic when I got to his cage and saw that it was empty.
I cried out for my parents, only to bring my dad walking calmly into my room with Harry in his arms. Even though he usually didn’t like to be held, he sat quite comfortably in my dad’s arms, his eyes open but his breathing steady and calm. Dad stroked his pristine white fur as gentle as could be as he approached me. “Looking for someone?”
I reached out for Harry, who was my only confidant due to being quite unpopular at school. Even at that age, I knew that his cognition wasn’t nearly on the level of ours, and that he didn’t have the affection for me that I had for him, but that didn’t help my distress at all. “Come downstairs, Marten. Your mother and I wish to talk to you.”
“I’m sorry I forgot to feed him this morning! I didn’t mean to sleep in!” Tears were streaming down my face, terrified that my best friend was going to be taken away from me. Dad saw the look on my face and his was crossed with a look of sorrow. He patted my back and herded me down into the living room. This is when I realized that they were both outfitted in their labcoats and scrubs, which wasn’t unusual since they both worked from home, but they tended to work late at night when the boundaries between realities is at its weakest.
“Please don’t take Harry away from me!” I cried at my mom as I ran into her arms.
She soothed and stroked my back, telling me over and over that everything was okay, that everything would be okay. After my tears had stopped, she got down on my level, and wiped away the residue that they left on my cheeks. She kissed my forehead and smiled a sad smile, “Today is a very special day, Marten. Today is the day that you’ll start helping your father and I in the lab.”
I caught my breath, let it out slowly and looked up at her, my mother who always had a hug, kiss and smile for me, who would never tell me that things would be okay if that was a lie. “So why does dad have Harry?”
She stood up and put her hand out for me, “Come down to the lab with me, dear heart.”
Their lab was what you would expect from any other science lab: spotless, stainless steel and glassware filled with various liquids. Refrigerators, freezers and other storage lined every wall but one, which was brickwork. There were chunks of raw chalk on a table at the center of the wall, along with some diagrams. I was shepherded towards the table, and mom clasped my shoulders from behind, directing my attention at the blank brick wall. “You know how hard mom and dad’s work is, and that it takes a lot out of us, right?” I nodded my ascent, “And you know that we would never pressure you into following in our footsteps, and that your happiness is the most important thing in the world to your father and I?”
“Marten, you can always turn back, but in order to really get you up to speed and at our level when you reach our age, we need to begin your training this year.” This was said by my father as he brought some large, black nails and a hammer over to the table with his free hand, holding Harry in the crook of his elbow with the other. “Neither of us would ever lie to you, and I’m being very serious when I say that this is the hardest part to our work.”
The emotions that were roiling through my young mind were varied and complicated, far beyond what a boy of my age should’ve been feeling. I was excited and scared to begin my family’s work, I was happy that my parents were being so gentle and considerate with me, but beyond those was my concern and confusion for my poor rabbit. “So, why is Harry down here?”
“Marten, you know how we talked about ghosts when you were younger? What did we tell you?” Now it was dad’s turn to get onto his haunches and meet my eyes.
“You said that consciousness creates ripples in reality, and that ripples can affect the rest of the world and create long lasting impressions in it.” I repeated, from heart.
“And that these ripples interact with each other and create bonds between different consciousnesses?” He was walking me through the process, making sure that I knew every part of the experiment before it began. All I could do was nod, still far away from understanding what, precisely, was happening. “Our work depends on those ripples, because that’s what’s used to manipulate the ley-lines that rest under our home. So, when those ripples act with each other, we can then tear them apart which will send such a shock through the ley-line that we can manipulate it in specific ways. Do you understand?”
Horror spread across my face. I clasped my hands over my face, as if I could ward off what they wanted me to do, but when I withdrew my hands, they were still there.
“This is part of what makes our work so difficult, dear heart. There are other ways to manipulate the lines, but the most effective, the most potent way, is to create a strong emotional bond with…” my mom’s face creased in consternation and her eyes reflected heart break. “With a sacrifice.” She let those words sink into my mind as I struggled at speech. “Once again, Marty, you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. This is going to be incredibly hard, and it will hurt you very deeply. Your father and I will support you, no matter what you do, and if you want to take Harry back upstairs, give him his breakfast and just enjoy your day off, then that would be okay with us, I promise.” The looks on their faces confirmed that she wasn’t just saying this.
I looked from my parents to Harry, my best friend, my only friend. His wide, innocent eyes and his soft fur. I wanted to cry, but I knew I had to be strong. That if I wasn’t strong, this wouldn’t go the way it needed to. In the end, even though the very thought of doing it still hurts me, I nodded and reached for Harry. “What’s the experiment?”
Dad handed Harry to me while mom brought the rest of the equipment to the table. “First, you need to pin Harry’s paws to the wall with iron nails, then you cut him from the throat to the rectum with a silver blade and then use silver pins to hold his chest open. The elements are very important, as they amplify the waves you create through the action of killing Harry. After that, you’ll see for yourself.”
It took a half an hour, all told, but it felt like a small age as I inflicted the worst pain I could imagine on my friend. I could barely see straight from the tears that I shed, and my hands shook with each action. Gratefully, my parents helped with the nails, and they held and soothed me when it got to be too much. I insisted on pressing on, knowing that this was my duty, that following in the family tradition was important to me and that, once the first nail went in, there was no turning back.
After I stuck the last pin into his still body, blood coating everything that I’ve touched and Harry’s white fur stained a livid red, the air thrummed like a string was plucked. Where there was a gory, awful hole in Harry’s chest, I could now see a star field that stretched into infinity. Dad placed his hand on my shoulder and said in a gentle voice, “The hard part is over. Now, all you do is reach into his chest with both hands and keep pushing in.”
I did as I was asked, choking down vomit as I did. But instead of feeling rabbit organs, and instead of touching the back of his insides, I reached farther and farther into the cosmos until I felt something grab me. I looked back at my parents in a panic, but they stood back by about twenty feet. Dad’s arm was around mom’s shoulder. “You’re going to be okay, Marty. I promise.”
All at once, I was pulled through Harry’s body, and emerged into the impossible. I gazed out as the universe stretched on beyond me. I looked backwards, and stumbled backwards. If my heart was pounding fast before, now it felt like it was going to explode. I wanted to scream, I wanted to run, but all I could do was trip over my feet and gaze up at a creature that defies explanation. It gazed at me dispassionately with its numerous eyes and charged directly at me with a speed that would have seemed impossible yesterday.
It seized me with its appendages and gasped in pain as tentacle cups lined with needles dug into my arms. Its horrible face, asymmetrical and multifacted like a diamond drew closer to me and I felt the world that I used to know die around me. I trembled as the collected knowledge of every member of my family was forced into my mind while the thing in front of me worked its many jaws, drool dripping over its thousands of teeth. I began to seize up as the information overload increased, but it didn’t let go.
I could see the Earth as it was crossed with hundreds of lines, all glowing bright green. I could see every inhabited planet throughout the universe, countless diagrams and the ways that all of the elements work with consciousness. All of this and far more, stretching and distorting my young mind beyond anything that should be possible. As the information load increased in speed and the horror of it all reached its apex, I couldn’t help but lose consciousness.
When I awoke, my parents bent over me and looked down at my still body as I met their gaze from the floor. My hair had turned completely white, and I wasn’t able to speak for a week, but the ordeal was over. I looked back at the brick wall, and saw that Harry had vanished and the brickwork looked as if nothing had happened to it. My parents gathered me up and told me that they were very proud of me while they carried me back to bed. I lay down and fell asleep, trusting that the terror was over, but it was actually just beginning.