I may not sprite, and I only upload art once in a blue moon, but damnit I like writing and write I shall. So have something I've been working on.
Just to be awkward, I won't tell you what it's about. Read yourself.
Enjoy~
[spoiler]It's February 15th.
In a couple of hours, my life will change forever.
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I'm sitting Maths class, staring vacantly out the window, listening to the clock on the wall ticking away. It's a nice day out, but I'm stuck in here learning about simultenous quadratic equations. I have no idea what any of that means, so I drift off into my own world. Mr. Lator doesn't notice I'm not even looking at him.
Finally the bell rings, and I lazily pick up my books and leave the classroom. It's time to head home, so I head to my locker to deposit my books. My three best friends are there already, of course.
There's Wes Bradley, my best-of-the-best friend, even though our interests are miles apart: I like reading and writing, he likes soccer and running. He's also a total womanizer, and right now he's talking to a few third-form girls, and he's got them eating out his hand. He's just magic like that.
Sitting next to him is Lily Ayashi, who's originally from Japan. Akihabara, I think she said. She's a nice girl, and a total tech whiz - if you're ever wondering how a computer works, she'll tell you exactly what to do, right down to the finest detail. I'm not afraid to say that she's cute as a button, too, standing by her locker with a book in her hands and her little reading glasses and golden-blonde hair.
And then there's Rich Harper, who's drawing some sort of alien symbol on his locker. Rich is...well, alright, he's completely nuts. I don't know if he's actually insane or he just puts it on, but he's like excitement in a bottle. Wes maintains - in his usual manner of good-natured quips - that I won Rich in a bet, but I guess I like him because he's crazy. There's never a dull moment when Rich is around, that's for sure.
My name is Evan Chase, in case you're wondering. That's kind of important, I guess, since I'm the one telling the story and all that.
Wes is the first to notice me. This big grin appears on his face and he tells the girls he has stuff to do, then he walks over to me and holds out his hand. "Hey, Evan! What's up, my bro?" he says, and we exchange our secret handshake.
"Not much," I reply, managing a tired smile. Then Lily puts her book down and smiles.
"Hey, Evan," she says in her sweeter-than-sugar voice. I love her voice, for some reason. I have no idea why. I just nod back at her.
Once he sees me, Rich whirls around to face me and puts his hands on his waist, grinning like a lunatic. "The cavalry has arrived," he declares proudly. I don't even know how to respond to that. So I just salute him for whatever reason my tired mind can conjure up.
"So, what's the pee-oh-ay for today?" asks Wes, leaning against his locker like he owns the place.
"If it's all the same to you," I reply nonchalantly, "I'd rather just sit around at home until an opportunity presents itself to me."
What I didn't realize was that there was an opportunity waiting around the corner, and fate was just waiting for me to ask for it. I've never been much of a go-getter - that's Wes's turf - but I guess sometimes, opportunities have no choice but to be seized. I brought this up after we had left the building and began to walk home.
"Do you ever get the feeling that there's something watching you?" I ask them, waiting for the lights to turn green.
"Oh, all the time," says Rich, "UFOs are everywhere, dude. But they must be benevolent, 'cos they seem to like watching over us."
"I meant something deeper. Something more...spiritual."
"What," coos Wes, "Like God or something?"
I shrug. "Maybe."
"What's brought this up all of a sudden?" asks Lily as we cross the road.
"I've just been thinking," I reply, looking up at the sky detachedly, "About the universe and stuff. Metaphysics. I've been thinking, maybe there really is magic and living fantasy in the world. Out there, somewhere. But we just can't see it."
"It's possible," points out Lily, "After all, the average human being is said to use only 10% of their brain. It's possible that there is some kind of higher intelligence, which we cannot comprehend."
"See? Lily agrees with me," I mutter.
"You've always been like that," Wes teases in his usual good-natured way, "Ever since we were little kids, you've always been wonderin' why your life can't be more like a..."
"More like a work of fantasy," I idly murmur. We're passing by my house now. "I'll see you guys later, alright?"
"Okay," says Lily, smiling, "Bye-bye!"
I wave back to them, then walk in through the front door. My mother is chopping vegetables for dinner on the kitchen counter and looking at the TV while she's doing it.
"Hey, mom," I call.
"Hello, dear," she replies. I glance over at the TV screen. Some cookery program. She loves cookery programs. I just walk through the kitchen, out into the hall, up the stairs and stand outside my bedroom.
I am in no way prepared for what I'm about to see.[/spoiler]
[spoiler]I'm trying not to be alarmed here. I really am.
But it's kind of hard when there's someone - or something - sitting on my bed. It definitely wasn't there before.
"Hey, what's going on here?" I yell, backing up against the door. The...thing...on my bed isn't human, not by a long shot. It's got a humanoid shape, alright, but it looks more like a robot or alien than a normal person. The body seems to be fleshy and organic, but it's got these weird metal plates over its chest and arms and legs and...over most of its face, so that only a pair of glowing eyes are looking out. It's sitting on my bed, cool as anything, and staring right at me.
I'm genuinely freaking out here.
"Look," I go, fumbling at the doorknob, "If this is some kinda prank, it's not funny." I try to turn the knob. "Is that you in that suit, Wes? This is one of Rich's ideas, isn't it? Ha ha ha! R-really funny, guys."
Crap, the door's locked.
How did it lock itself?
"Do not be afraid," the thing says in this deep, hollow voice. It stands up and - get this - starts hovering an inch or so above the ground. It even has the nerve to hold its hand out to me.
"That's a good voice impression, Wes," I stutter nervously, "B-but the joke's over now...come on out."
"I am not your enemy," the thing goes on, "I am your friend. I am you."
I just cock an eyebrow. What the hell is this guy on about? "You're me?"
"Yes. I am you; or, more accurately, an extension of you. I am your subconcious mind taking form - an Esper."
"An Esper," I mutter, "Isn't that someone who has, y'know, psychic abilities? Not...whatever the hell you are?"
"Yes. Where do you think their abilities come from?"
"Sleight of hand, hidden cameras, smoke and mirrors, that sort of thing," I wager. The thing shakes its head.
"No. That is what they want you to believe. In actuality, their abilities are genuine and real; most every magician, fortune teller or psychic in this world is guided and empowered by one of us. An Esper."
"Most everyone?"
"There are some who do not possess an Esper of their own, or have not yet released it, but are nevertheless mystified by the tricks of these clever people," the thing explains, like it's the most obvious thing in the world, "They try to replicate their abilities, to varying degress of success. But what they cannot see is the magician's "invisible hand", so to speak - the subconcious spirit putting the rabbit in the hat, taking the pea out from under the shell, harmlessly seperating the woman in half. It is all the work of we Espers."
I can't believe this. It's all too much, too soon. Espers? Magicians? Psychic spirits? I must be going nuts. Maybe Rich has finally gotten to me. I rub my eyes in a desperate attempt to regain my grip on sanity. When I open my eyes, the thing, the Esper, as it calls itself, it still standing a few feet away from me.
"This is insane. Ghosts and ghoulies don't really exist, right? It's all just...just fantasy!"
"And you would know."
I blink. "What?"
"All your life, Evan, you have desired for your life to be more like a work of fantasy; like the stories you read. Only now have I appeared before you. But I have always been within you, waiting to be freed from your mind."
Right about then, I decide I've had just about enough of this thing. "No! Just...no! Yes, I've wanted that all my life, but...I always knew it was just a dream! If you're really here, then...then what about everything else I know? What's the difference between illusion and reality?"
The thing shakes its head solemnly. "Calm down. You are taking this too far. Nothing else has changed to alter the flow of reality. Do not think of this as a breach of structured continuity - rather, think of it as an extension of what you know to be in existence. Did Plato himself not say there are two worlds: the world we percieve through our senses, and the world that contains the essence of all things?"
He's got me there. I just nod, more to be polite than anything.
"Yes. It was Plato who said we cannot always trust what we experience through our sight, hearing, and other senses. He believed in a perfect universe, the "World of Ideas", wherein there exists the "perfect" form of everything."
"What does this have to do with me? Or better yet, you?"
"I am not finished. Aristotle later rejected this theory, stating that the senses are just as important as the mind. He deviated from Plato's beliefs by saying that all physical bodies consist of two parts." He holds his two hands out, palms cupped upwards. "There is the matter," he raises his left hand, "And there is the form," he raise his right hand. "The matter is that which the body is made from; this is you. The form is that which defines the body, its essence; that which seperates it from other bodies. This is myself. Aristotle believed that one cannot without the other - form must have matter, and matter must have form. Similarly, Evan, we are two sides of the same coin. You are the physical body, the host, that which controls me; I am the spirit, the subconcious mind, that which empowers yet serves you. Do you understand?"
Now, this is going to sound crazy, but bear with me here. I actually do understand what he's saying. It's weird - it's outright insane, really - but somehow, I suppose I've always known that there was something else out there. Whenever I looked at a magic trick, I would wonder how they did it. My rational mind said there was a logical explanation to it, but the little kid in me always thought it must really have been magic. I always wondered how sleight-of-hand, hidden cameras and smoke and mirrors could allow someone cut a woman in half. I just never thought the little kid would be right after all.
The thing...sorry, the Esper, sits back down on the bed. He puts his hand next to him. I come over and sit beside him.
"Okay, so, can I ask you something?"
"Certainly?"
I look up at the ceiling, then at him. "Ghosts and spirits...those kind of things...are they Espers too?"
"Indeed they are," he replies. "You see, everybody has some form of an Esper. Most people are just not aware of it. As well as that, only a handful of people are able to harness their Esper to gain supernatural powers. In olden days, they would be seen as druids and holy men and were revered; or they would be seen as demons and witches and punished for their gift. To answer your question - when a person dies, their subconcious mind and soul are seperated from the host body. This is the Esper being freed, if you will, from its earthly form. Most Espers, after being freed, return to the place where all Espers hail from. Alas, some still retain feelings of sorrow, anger or guilt from their mortal host's lifetime, and cannot return until these feelings have been sated. It is a terrible existence, to be a restless Esper."
This is unbelievable. I'm actually talking to someone who understands this stuff - he is this kind of stuff! I need to know more. So I ask him:
"Did philosophers like Plato and Aristotle have Espers?"
He considers this. "I cannot say for sure, given that I am but a young Esper amongst many. It is possible that they may have possessed Espers and wished to teach others of them, but not everyone was willing to accept their ideas. A terrible shame, really."
It's not really the answer I was hoping for, but I let it slide. I decide to go back to the first question.
"So, where do all these Espers come from, anyway? You said something about, uh, returning there."
He says nothing for a moment, then speaks. "I cannot say. Even I do not know. No-one knows. Many would believe it is God himself, if you believe in such a thing; others would believe it is the centre of all existence, the nexus of all reality. Others just believe it is a giant fish."
"A giant fish?"
"That theory is not very important. In short, I cannot answer your question."
I nod. I suppose it'd be unfair to assume he knows everything about this stuff. He looks at me. I can't tell if he has a mouth under the plating, but if he does, I get the feeling he's smiling.
"Now, Evan, I have a question for you."
"Fair enough," I go, "Shoot."
"Do you accept this?"
"What, Espers and stuff?"
"Yes."
I just shrug. "It's kinda hard not to when you're sitting right next to me, isn't it?" I can't help but chuckle. "Oh, man. I can't wait to tell Wes, Lily and Rich about this. They're gonna freak out. Well, maybe not Rich."
He suddenly become a bit defensive. "I would be careful of telling them." I look back at him puzzledly. "Those who do not possess Espers themselves are not usually understanding of such matters," he explains.
"Oh."
After that, there's a long - some might say awkward - moment of silence. I'm just left looking at the floor, while he stares blankly in front of him. He seems to be good at just staring blankly, what with those expressionless eyes he has on him. Eventually, something comes to mind. I decide to break the tense silence.
"What's your name?"
He turns his head and looks down at me. "Pardon?"
"I mean, what should I call you? You've gotta have a name, right?"
"I suppose so," he says, half-chuckling while he says it. "Very well. You may call me...The Magician."
"The Magician?"
"Indeed. You see, in the mystical wisdom of the Tarot - the fortune-telling cards - The Magician represents one who understands the innate intricacies of the universe, for he has experienced them himself; he is the one who, through his own inner power, brings change to his world. He is the conjurer - he who brings tales and stories to life."
"Okay," I go, still a little confused, "But what does that have to do with me?"
"Isn't it obvious?" The Magician replies, probably smiling again, "You, Evan, are the one who brings these stories to life. Ever since you were little, it is all you have ever desired. And now, because you are ready to accept it, you have conjured myself - your Esper."
"I don't see how I'm ready, though," I mutter. He obviously hears it, because he says:
"In your subconcious mind, you are. I should know - I am that subconcious mind, after all. You're a young adult now, Evan. You are more able to understand these things."
I just nod, maybe a little too slowly. It's been a pretty weird afternoon, and I haven't even had dinner yet.
I can only wonder what the others will think if I tell them.[/spoiler]
Thanks to the both of you who'll comment on this.