Let’s Not [Obliterate]

 

Theora stood in front of Amanda Dupont’s grave. It was a cloudy day with a soft breeze and the occasional sunrays making it through to the ground — the forest gleamed up every now and then, rocks shining and leaves glittering.

Serim kneeled further back, in front of the large boulder by the path, where they’d placed a smaller gravestone in remembrance of Dema; it was not an actual grave — or rather, the rock itself was the grave, for Dema’s remains were still tucked away inside Theora’s now not quite as empty shell.

Next to Theora stood Invent One, eyeing the plaque with Amanda’s name for silent minutes.

“So that was her denomination,” it said eventually.

“I knew her as Lostina,” said Theora. “We were friends. We are friends.”

Invent One caught Theora’s gaze. “You said she is currently preempted from advancing her state due to being — ‘frozen’?”

“In time, yes.”

Invent One nodded. “Waiting for your return. Once you reconnect, will you relay my past actions and motivations concerning her?”

Theora understood IO well enough by now to understand this question as a request. She nodded.

“She might be upset with me,” Invent One murmured. 

“She lived for a few years without me, after we met,” Theora said, musing. She remembered Lostina’s expression in the Frame of the Lost. “She looked happy to me.” Theora wiped her eyes, and sniffed. “She and I travelled together for months, and I cared about her and what would happen to her by the end of our time together a lot. When she left me that day, I was devastated. I miss her.”

“That fact is likely what enabled the two of us to make contact.”

Theora nodded. Her gaze wandered over Invent One’s pale skin; its lime green eyes, the washed-out blonde, thick hair. High forehead, small nose, thin, lanky figure. “I never knew what she used to look like. She made an entirely new body in that other world.”

IO stared at its fingers. “I gather she got happier with this body as time went on, but there were still things she couldn’t change.”

Theora said, “I know it’s difficult for you to occupy a Shadow like that. However, please take good care of her body, if you can. I know it’s unlikely that she would ever return to it, but… still.”

Invent One raised its eyebrows. “I am doubtful that Amanda herself took good care of it. When I entered, it was left deserted and delirious, with a wound festering in its leg that was fairly easy to treat.”

Theora swallowed. “… Still.”

Invent One nodded. “As you wish. I have never treated it as expendable.”

Theora felt a tap on her shoulder. “Same goes for you, by the way,” Serim said, joining them. “Treat your body with more care, please.”

Theora knitted her eyebrows. “But my body is…” She trailed off, took a shallow but slow breath. “Alright. I will try.”

At the very least, she could attempt to spend less time with it frozen and breaking apart in the depths of the Grand Voids. At that, her expression soured. She’d still need to get home somehow; that would likely inflict some damage on her body, but she’d attempt to start honouring Serim’s request right after.

“I’m sorry we couldn’t help you find your poem,” she said, looking at Invent One. “Will you be fine?”

“Actually, about that,” Serim interjected. “I’ve decided that I’ll keep helping. Just, you know, as a hobby. IO told me there’s no rush. I know lots of music, so I can help with the search there too.” Serim shrugged, and looked at IO. “And if you want to, we can keep making music together. If you’re staying for a while.”

Invent One nodded. “I can stay until you perish.”

Serim couldn’t help but grin, and pulled up her brows. “Sounds good. You still won’t tell me what the poem was actually about, though?”

“I’m uncertain as to what would be a proper procedure to accomplish that. It was communicated to me in abstract concepts. Relaying them as-is to a person would cause damage. I cannot translate the concepts myself. It is because I yearn to see them expressed in human words that I came here. If I could do that transformation myself, there would be no point to it.” 

“What kind of damage would it do?” Theora asked.

Invent One considered, tilting its head. “Headaches and death.”

“That’s it?”

Invent One gave a slow nod. “It would be akin to the energy surge transmitted by your daughter.”

“Then can’t you share it with Theora?” Serim asked, her gaze flicking between the two. “She should be able to receive it.”

Invent One stared for almost a minute, probably in thought. “It would take a while to accumulate all relevant data. But even then, Theora would not know the poem, just how it was relayed to me.”

“Well, Theora can just write a song based on what you send her.” Serim rubbed her arms; she was likely getting cold. “You and I keep searching, and whenever you’re ready, you send the surge. And then you’ll get your human interpretation from her, if we don’t find the original. Still better than nothing, right?”

“Better than nothing,” Invent One agreed. It looked at Theora. “Would you be alright with that?”

“Dema can help me out with writing the song,” Theora answered. “If it has to be a song. We could write a letter too, or something.”

IO nodded. “I will prepare the transmission. I don’t know when it will arrive.”

“That’s fine.” Theora gave a small smile. “We’ll be around.”

Serim was still shifting in place, and when the conversation died for a moment, she immediately stepped close. “Theora, can I talk to you for a second? There’s something I need to ask you.” 

They shuffled a few steps away, out of IO’s presumed earshot. Theora looked at Serim expectantly, who just stared at IO for a while until taking a breath.

“This is awkward because it feels very inappropriate to bring it up now, but unfortunately it might be my only chance, so.” She took a breath. “Look. You just mentioned ‘Lostina’. And I gather, Lostina’s the one whose body Invent One took.”

Theora nodded. 

“And,” Serim went on, “It sounded like you could talk to her? About Invent One and stuff?”

“I assume so,” Theora said, nodding again. Where was this going?

“Alright.” Serim stared at the foliage for a while. Then: “The thing is, I want you to ask Lostina something for me. Can you do that? And… kind of… get the message back to us somehow?”

Theora wasn’t sure, but Isobel could perhaps figure something out. “Maybe. What’s the question?”

“I want to know how she feels about all this. About the fact that Invent One has her old body now. How she deals and all. Uh, yeah.”

Theora’s gaze jumped between Serim and Invent One. The two shared a furtive glance with each other. Serim was still being cagey. There would have been no reason to be this nervous about asking Lostina ‘how she deals’ — that was in fact the exact same thing IO had just requested Theora ask her.

So. “Is there something you are not telling me?”

Serim sighed. Then, in a single sentence, she spat it out.

Theora’s eyes widened. “What?”

Now that she made her outrageous request, Serim relaxed a little. “Yeah. Look, obviously be more tactful about it if you do ask her. Like, I dunno if Invent One even wants to, but it seemed curious, in a way. But the body is stolen. I won’t even bring it up to IO if the original owner feels bad about how it all went down.”

Theora blinked her surprise away, but then something dawned on her. “She’ll still be frozen for another sixty years, or so.”

Serim pressed air out of her cheeks. “Damn. Well, I can wait.”

With that, she turned back to Invent One, and Theora followed close after. When Invent One looked at them, she had an idea.

“IO, I have a question. I managed to enter this world many years before Lostina died. Is it possible to… send a message to you that you would receive immediately, even if I wait a long time on my side?”

Invent One put its head in a tilt with a mechanical movement. “Time is independent between worlds by default. However, once a world is interacted with, an anchorage can develop. That anchorage can fade, though. If you cease contact with this world for a long time, by not thinking of it much and not interacting with the people in here, it could become possible to do what you ask.”

“Really?” Serim asked, and swallowed.

“Well, then I’m looking forward to asking Lostina your question,” Theora joked.

Serim actually flushed red. “Just — absolutely no pressure, alright? If she has any hint of a doubt, that’s that. Even if it just feels awkward to ask her in the first place. I don’t fuck with a stolen body without consent of the original owner.”

Invent One tilted its head further. “You wish to — ‘fuck with’ — a stolen body?”

“Let’s have that conversation when we burn that bridge,” Serim said, looking away. She was now tipping to the left on the right, arms crossed, shivering. They’d been here for an hour by now, in the freezing cold. 

“I should go,” Theora murmured and stepped aside, behind the tree, to the backside of the boulder, arriving at a rock shaped like a pedestal. Then, she stopped.

There was a plaque with her name on it.

“I’m not dead.”

Serim laughed. “I just thought I’d let you know you’ll be remembered too. No clue if you’ll ever get back.”

Theora didn’t know whether she’d make it back either, at least within Serim’s lifetime. “If I return too late, could I find your grave here too?”

“I’ll make sure you will.”

Theora nodded and enclosed Serim in a hug. Serim was sniffling too, and held Theora firmer than she’d ever done before, as if not wanting to let go. She did let go though, eventually, and kissed Theora’s forehead.

“Goodbye,” Theora murmured. Then, she looked at Invent One. “Ah. Right. Speaking of death. When you said Dema would die… were you referring to…?”

“Verisimilitude-induced decompression sickness,” Invent One answered. “Hastened by her remembering more and more of her past, and from the inherent rejection she was facing in this world. I recognised it when I observed her, when we first met. She was beyond saving then already.”

“Damn,” Serim let out. “It hit her hard, huh?”

Invent One bounced its heads sideways a few times, seeming to disagree, but only halfway. “Who knows. Dema’s magic is based on the idea of tenacity. Rocks that never change. Blood, giving life. Squeezing life from the inert. But with bones and blood that are magical, she was incompatible with Reality from the start. It’s a testament to her tenacity that she’s made it for this long.”

“So… it’s not about… when you asked me about her death, that was not about my task?”

Invent One said, “Tasks can be failed. They are not predictions.”

Theora turned to hide her tears, pulling Dema’s little coffer out of her travelling coat. She placed it onto the pedestal, and grazed her fingers along the lid.

“I will attempt to leave Reality through the incision I’m about to make.” She didn’t look back at Invent One. “You will be able to close it?”

“Not necessarily ‘close’ it, but I can conceal it from the outside, using my larger self. As long as you cut cleanly. Don’t cause damage at the fringes.”

“I will try not to,” Theora murmured. A single cut, to slice through the fabric of reality, to both reveal a Fragment of Time, and allow herself an escape towards home. This time, however, it wouldn’t function the way the portal at home did; it would not lead her ‘anywhere’. It would just lead her into the Miasma.

Invent One had given her a rundown on how to navigate that non-space. It seemed a bit easier to get around in, compared to the Grand Voids; mostly because entering the Miasma was the most difficult part; surviving in it was the second difficult part, and both of them, Theora felt confident she could accomplish — compared to those, navigating it was simple, since it contained no spatial dimensions, nor time.

Theora emptied her mind in preparation. Her error rate with [Obliterate] had gone down substantially since the first few times she’d used it, but she definitely did not want to resume causing issues now, and here, where magic couldn’t deal with the fallout.

That said, perhaps this world’s defences against breaking the laws of nature would make it more difficult for [Obliterate]’s damage to leak through it.

The cool metal of the box was warming under her touch, shining under the alternating cycles of light and shadow from the clouds. Serim and Invent One were both patient with her.

Dema had spent so much time making this. Making it to share with her. Every fibre in Theora’s body was repulsed to the idea of opening it the wrong way, of using it to make the impossible incision. And yet, she’d decided, that was the only way forward. A way back to a place of intrusive System notifications, a way back to a place full of Isobel’s laughter and Bell’s frowns. A way towards saving Time, and a way back to Dema. 

There were songs on there Theora might never hear. Words written Theora might never see. Who knew how much of it Dema herself would even remember, having her brain shaken up by an untimely death soon after making it.

Secret messages; truths Dema had never spoken, knowledge of the past Theora never dared asking about.

Obliterate.