EXISTENTIAL PARADIGM
The expected sensation of pain and the memory of it slowly faded as she opened first her left eye. The ceiling was traced with dancing shadows that suggested several natural-flame light sources, candles perhaps, or lanterns. She anticipated the oily incense aroma yet the air was free of its odd effluence. Evelyn lay there with one eye open, pondering her most recent memories.
The void. The church. Cynthia, Dave, and the battle. Reflexively her hand found her forehead, where it struck the slate floor. Again there was no pain. She looked with her left eye for traces of her own blood, and there was none. The room was nearly completely silent. She let her eye close and she listened. For a moment she could hear the faint ringing of the vessels pulsating behind her ear canal, then her senses calmed and the faint flicker of flames in a delicate current of constantly flowing air fluttered slightly. The light now tracing upon her closed eyelids. Eve realised that her right eye could detect the slightly different perspective of the dancing candle light.
“You can trust that you are indeed safe, no?” His odd accent was perplexingly fluid whilst speaking English. Its resonance elevated at the end of his question.
Without opening her eyes Eve asked cautiously, “Is this really happening, or have I been locked into some kind of dementia trapped inside my suit?”
“Your suit stands where you left it. I have disposed of the other three. They were rendered hors de combat. Did I say that correctly, hors de combat?” She could hear his mischievous smile as he spoke.
“How would I know? Was that French?”
“Oui mon cher.”
“Ok, that’s just insane.” Evelyn sat up and opened her eyes facing where the stranger’s voice seemed to be coming from, “Who are you anyway? Wait, don’t answer that unless you are speaking English, ok?”
He stood in a darkened arch behind and to the left of where she was sitting. There was no blood on his white shirt, and his expression betrayed a beguiling smile. “My name is Morbannon. And my Earthly friends refer to me as Mor, apparently. I suspect the shorter version is less… menacing.” He smiled more cordially but he remained in the archway, nearly filling it. The candlelight was enough to offer adequate illumination to see most of the detail of the room she was in. She was thankful to find that she was still wearing the tan sensor suit. She looked again at both of her hands for traces of blood. There was none, nor was there any blood to be seen on any part of her.
“It wasn’t that bad you see. The… Void has that effect actually – fatigue and disorientation. A little medical trickery and you are well again – you’ve slept for nearly half the day; it is tomorrow now.” Again the beguiling smile. “I will just enter the room now. As you may have concluded by now, I am no threat.” Eve suddenly became aware of her lesser stature, as if his very being there exuded some sort of presence. The sensation was not fear, merely an awareness – a sense. “Ah! You have it too!” Evelyn started slightly before composing herself.
“Have what exactly?” She made her best insistent expression.
“It will take a bit of explaining, so I would like you to think back to yesterday – when you witnessed my clash with your associates. You remember? – How I fought them.” He remained a couple steps away but now more at her side rather than behind her.
Evelyn’s memory traced back to what she recalled of the arcing bluish plasma, and the shattered suit embedded in the masonry. “I don’t understand, I mean, I am not sure what to think. It seems impossible that you did those things without some kind of weapon. But your hands were empty…” Eve’s eyes began to search around for something familiar. She saw bookshelves filled with various beakers ranging in shape and size, some with coloured contents, some were empty. Actual books, that was comforting. Her eyes met his, and she made a conscious effort to relax.
“I can wield the Arcane; the energy of the universe – the multiverse, if you will. Eric referred to it as ‘Magic’, but I do not think that quite encompasses the concept, as Magic refers to illusions rather than the actual manipulation of psychic energies – thus.”
He raised his right hand and pointed at a vial. A thin ray of straw-colored energy pierced the vial rendering it to fragments in an organised heap on the bookshelf. The event transpired in a surreal demonstration as the pieces simply separated from the rest and settled with subtle clinks when they fell to rest.
“A much smaller manipulation than what you observed yesterday evening.” He seemed to be waiting for her response.
“Right. If anything is going to make sense for me, I would like to talk more – but somewhere other than the emergency ward.”
“Perhaps we can prepare something to eat. Then I will tell you of how I came to know Eric, and his friend Kevin Connor, yes?”
He offered his hand to assist her from the bench; it was a bit higher than her hips. Evelyn slid nimbly to the floor. “I don’t suppose some sort of more appropriate clothing would be possible?” She smiled up at Morbannon’s stoic form more than a head taller than she was. He released her hand and led her from the room. She kept pace at his shoulder. As they neared the strangely carved door she noticed the floor becoming increasingly colder through the thin sensor suit footpads.
As they entered a dimly lit hallway Evelyn could not help but to continue to try and ascertain her circumstance. “What exactly do I have – you said, I have it. What would it be?”
Morbannon cleared his throat as if what he was about to say required as much clarity as he could convey. “Eric has it as well; an Arcane Sense – a kind of ability if you will. It seems the similar nature of your arrival has imparted a gift, a welcoming to this ‘living dimension’ as Eric put it.” He glanced over his right shoulder after each sentence, as if to check if she were believing him correctly or not.
“Why can’t I feel it now? You’re right next to me, and nothing.”
“I can suppress my aura, having learnt from Eric some of the subtlties prior to his departure from my home over a month ago.”
“How long was he here, in your home?”
“Ah, you’re curious about the time dilation. I am as well, therefore I will enlighten you so that you might enlighten me. He arrived in a similar manner as you – suddenly – and in total, Eric has been in Peradra two months, give or take a few days.” He stopped and turned to face Evelyn, an expectant expression awaited her response.
“It is true then. Time seems to be passing slower here in comparison to my home – dimension…” Her voice trailed off, her countenance conveyed deep contemplation. “Eric… exited my dimension nearly fourteen weeks ago – that means Theo and Alan have the advantage.”
Morbannon waved his hand and returned to leading Evelyn to the place where proper clothing would be available. “They have no idea.” His voice resonated low and carried the bitter reverberation of his assertion into the depths of the gothically proportioned ‘home’ of Morbannon, manipulator of the Arcane.
