Forgotten Realms

by Cassidy Raine Wolters

  "About what?"

  "I don't remember. But here's the thing. It was my wife, but it wasn't my wife," he said cryptically.

  "What do you mean?" the doctor asked as she scribbled furiously on her notepad.

  "It wasn't really her. It was a fake, like some kind of robot or puppet. And I thought the same thing about my daughter the next morning when I talked to her at breakfast."

  "And this continued…"

  "The whole weekend. But when I got home from work on Monday, everything was back to normal."

  "Jack, you were probably just under stress from work. You said Christmas is your busy season. And the holidays can be hectic. This all sounds like a normal, everyday case of anxiety."

  "There's one more thing," Jack began, but stopped as he tried to figure how to explain what was really bothering him.

  "Go on," Dr. Evans urged after a long stretch of silence.

  "That weekend I was sitting in my den, reading. I glanced out the window and I saw…"

  "Saw what?"

  "This is going to sound crazy," Jack said in a voice that was so quiet it could barely be heard.

  "What did you see?" the doctor asked again.

  "A giant eye, watching me like I was in some kind of doll house."

  "A giant eye? Can you tell me more about it?"

  "Not really. I went to the window to take a closer look, but it was gone."

  "Did you ever see it again?"

  "No."

  Neither Jack nor Dr. Evans spoke for a while. All was quiet except the sound of the psychiatrist writing on her yellow notepad.

  "Dr. Evans? Am I… crazy?" Jack finally asked.

  "Of course not!" she reassured him. "But I would like to talk some more about your feelings. Would you be able to come in again next week?"

  "Yeah, I suppose."

  "Great! See the receptionist on your way out to make an appointment. In the meantime, I'm going to call in a script to your pharmacy for a mild sedative. Something to calm your nerves and help you sleep at night."

  "Thank you," Jack said as he gathered his things, shook the doctor's hand, and headed to the door.

  "I'll see you soon," she said.

  *****

  Jack never noticed the giant eye that was watching him through the window as he talked to the psychiatrist.

  "Zeenor, do you think the Earthling still suspects that he's being observed?"

  "No, Gok," replied his compatriot. "The new cage is far superior to the original."

  "The authenticity of the experiment was greatly improved by adding his real wife and child," Gok said.

  "And the rest of the test subjects that make up their small village," Zeenor added. "But perhaps it's time we made another trip to Earth and gathered new specimens. We've had these creatures for over five years now."

  "Not yet," Gok said. "There's still more to learn from these subjects. Besides, with all our specimens from the other worlds in the Milky Way galaxy, there's no more room in our laboratory."

  "I guess you're right," Zeenor said. "And there's another thing to consider."

  "What's that?" asked Gok.

  "Most test animals become so used to the conditions in the lab that it's impossible to return them to the wild, so I think the Earthlings will have to live their lives out here on our planet."

  The End

  9 - Exit... Stage Left

  In many ways, Basra Syeeme and Rutherford Hughes were as different as night and day.

  Born in India, Basra Syeeme was short, thin, and soft-spoken. Meticulously dressed and groomed, he always paid close attention to social graces.

  Born in England, Rutherford Hughes was tall, stout, and possessed a booming voice. Slovenly in his manner, he deplored social mores.

  But when you looked beyond appearances, you found that these men, both science professors at the Institute for Advanced Studies at Princeton, were kindred spirits. Since their very first meeting and subsequent heated discussion about the true nature of science, the two had been practically inseparable. They were different, yet they were the same.

  "Truth is something that must be discovered, not created," Hughes stated after he'd lit his pipe and settled into a comfortable chair by the fireplace. "I'll give you a perfect example. Little by little, down through the centuries, mankind discovered that he is not the center of the universe."

  "Yes," Syeeme said as he poured himself a cup of coffee and joined his friend by the fire. "We originally thought we occupied center stage."

  "And then Copernicus came along and placed the Sun rather than the Earth at the center of the universe," Hughes said. "Fearful of the reaction to his revolutionary idea, he didn't publish his thoughts until just before his death in 1543."

  "Actually, the concept of a heliocentric universe had been proposed two thousand years before Copernicus," Syeeme explained. "The ancient Greeks held that belief, but like so many of their ideas, it fell to the wayside during the Dark Ages after the decline of the Roman Empire."

  "Possibly," Hughes muttered as he stared into the roaring fire that staved off the bitter cold of a harsh, winter night. "But there can be no doubt who issued the edict that sent man to the edge of the stage. It was Galileo. In 1609 he became the first person to investigate the night sky with a telescope and he found celestial bodies that didn't revolve around the Sun. For example, he discovered the four largest moons of Jupiter - Io, Europa, Ganymede, and Callisto."

  "Galileo correctly deduced that the Sun was the center of the solar system, but not the center of the universe," Syeeme added. "And then Edwin Hubble made the discovery that banished man from the stage entirely."

  "Using the powerful, 100-inch telescope at Mt. Wilson, Hubble proved what had long been suspected, that certain faint objects in the night sky called nebulae were so far away that they had to be separate galaxies," Hughes said before he puffed away happily at his pipe.

  "So the truth of the matter goes like this. The Earth circles a rather ordinary star on one of the outer arms of the Milky Way, which is but one of a hundred billion galaxies in the universe," Syeeme said in summary.

  "Ergo, we couldn't possibly be further removed from center stage," Hughes added.

  "Copernicus, Galileo, Hubble, and countless others. Brave men, one and all. Pragmatic, dignified souls enamored of the truth, determined to withstand the intense scrutiny of their work. Their lives were melodies of joy, sorrow, love, and valor," Syeeme said in a reverential tone.

  "Science is the story of fearless men who are willing to stand up for the truth, even in the face of scorn and ridicule, men who accept the fact that what you seek and what you find are seldom the same," Hughes declared.

  "Indeed, there's no magic for the magician," Syeeme added, somewhat cryptically before the two professors fell silent.

  Basra Syeeme finished his cup of coffee as his thoughts turned to some analogies he'd developed for two papers he was working on. In one, he explained how algebra was the grammar of math. In the other, he argued that species are only commas in the sentence of life.

  Rutherford Hughes continued to reflect on the struggles that scientists face. "Do you think there are scientists on other worlds that are experiencing the same stubborn resistance to the truth?" he asked his friend.

  "I'm sure there are," Syeeme replied.

  *****

  The struggle to learn the truth had been going on for ages on the nondescript world of Kandar near the center of the Large Magellanic Cloud, a satellite galaxy of the Milky Way.

  In fitful spurts down through the centuries, the beings that lived in the ocean beneath the frozen surface of Kandar inched closer and closer to the truth of their existence. Accidental but fortuitous discoveries spurred advances in science and technology. Yet, there was always opposition, especially from religious leaders who maintained that Kandar was the center of the universe.

  Great scientists battled against all odds to plumb the depths of reality. In time their names became known and revered by those w
ho were like-minded.

  Olfin Brax was one of those seekers of the truth. Based on the work of earlier scientists, Brax proposed that the vast ice sheet that blanketed the ocean in which they lived was not the end of the world. He insisted that there was something beyond the great wall of ice.

  Most people scoffed at the idea. Religious leaders denounced Brax. "Did not the Maker of All Things surround Kander with the enchanted ice to protect his creation from the Void?"

  Scorned and ridiculed for his ideas, Brax nonetheless continued his indefatigable labors. "This, too, you must endure," he reminded himself as he persevered, determined to find the truth of Kandar's place in the universe.

  Eventually Olfin Brax was able to complete his noble quest. I ask you to take a moment and picture the following scene in your mind's eye.

  Brax used the special tools he'd developed to cut through the thick ice that surrounded Kandar's ocean. He then climbed through the opening and gazed in wonder at the stars that blazed in the heavens above his frozen world.

  The End

  10 - Ignis Fatuus

  Part 1 - Blind Faith

  London

  1898

  After attending an early performance of Beethoven's Fifth Symphony, I hailed a Hansom cab to take me across town to see my old friend, Sebastian Yates. The combination of the foggy streets of London and the steady rhythm of the horse's gait put me in a contemplative mood.

  Yates and I had been best mates at Oxford, and we became even closer when he married my cousin Josephine. She was a beguiling beauty with flaxen hair that brought to mind the spun gold in the fairy tale Rumpelstiltskin.

  Sebastian and Josephine were destined to live happily ever after until she died tragically in a house fire caused by lightning. Since her passing my friend has led a maudlin existence. After spending an entire year writing elegiac poetry to his lost love, he became obsessed with the idea of contacting her in the afterworld.

  I can't say that I was too surprised by his preoccupation. His doting mother turned him into a world-class hypochondriac, an affliction that made him interested in all sorts of fringe beliefs and treatments. From the day I met him he was always captivated by the fantastic. At various times he was absorbed in studies of mesmerism, electricity, snake oil, water cures, séances, cocaine, and aphrodisiacs.

  Sebastian was a devout apostle, a true believer, but to me it was all pseudoscience at best. So when I caught wind of his latest endeavor, I insisted on seeing him. He'd already wasted most of his vast family fortune on a long line of charlatans and conjurors who claimed they could contact Josephine in the Great Beyond, and I was determined to help him avoid another catastrophic letdown.

  When I arrived at the Yates residence, the butler greeted me at the door, led me to the study, and poured me a brandy before politely excusing himself. Moments later Sebastian came bounding in. He had the manic look of someone who'd gone too long without a proper night's sleep.

  "Percy, old chum! How have you been?" he asked as he enthusiastically slapped my back.

  "No complaints," I replied. "So go on, man. I can tell you're bursting at the seams to tell me the latest so let's not waste any time on small talk."

  My old schoolmate needed no further encouragement. He was off and running at breakneck speed.

  "I know you've been skeptical about the company I've kept since Josephine's passing. And I'll be the first to admit that some of those men were frauds."

  "Samir was far too flamboyant for my tastes. While Alfredo's hedonistic lifestyle was very off-putting," I said.

  "I began to despair that this had all been a quixotic pursuit. But the missteps and blind alleys were all part of the journey that led me to Ezra!"

  Sebastian was too absorbed in his testimonial to hear my disgruntled sigh.

  "Ezra is a prophet, a poet, a philosopher king. He is a new messiah with acolytes all across Europe. He is more erudite than the others, his beliefs are more lucid, and his dictum that the brain is infinitely malleable is more robust. Don't you see it, man! Ezra's followers hold the key to all of creation!"

  Sebastian had worked himself into such a furor that he suddenly went into a coughing fit. I poured him a glass of water, and when he recovered he continued in a more subdued voice.

  "I know you think these are the ravings of a madman, but I promise you I'm quite sane. I will no longer be stymied. I've become transcendent. I've already been there, beyond death's door. The colors! The sounds! I can't find the words to describe them. The entire panorama was absolutely intoxicating."

  Despite his reassurances, I was far from convinced that Sebastian was of sound mind. "What do you mean you've already been there?" I asked in a brusque tone.

  "Ezra taught me the way! At first I struggled in the protean world, but that's because I was still employing antiquated thought patterns. I hadn't quite grasped the limitless possibilities of the malleable mind. With each subsequent visit I improved exponentially. And then I finally found it! The lightning-struck tower!"

  Now I was truly alarmed. Josephine had died in a house fire caused by lightning. I understood Sebastian's ardent need to see his wife again, but this talk of penetrating death's door! It was sheer lunacy!

  "I'm glad you're here, old pal, in my moment of triumph," he said. "For tonight, I will endeavor to bring my beloved back to life!"

  At that moment the butler returned, cleared his throat, and announced a visitor.

  Ezra's arrival made Sebastian positively giddy. "I see introductions are in order. Ezra, this is my dear friend Percival Beckett. Percy, this is the man I've been telling you about. This is Ezra!"

  As Sebastian fawned over him, I took a good look at the latest quack who'd gotten his claws into my former school mate. I'm not sure what I was expecting. I hadn't given it much thought. After all, I'd never heard of him before this evening. Even if I'd had a month to deliberate, though, I never would have pictured Ezra this way.

  "I know what you're thinking," Sebastian said. "That this man is old and weak."

  "And blind!" I exclaimed.

  "I may be blind but I see better than most men," he said in a frail voice that I had to strain to hear.

  "Spare me the cryptic balderdash," I remarked.

  Sebastian immediately came to his mentor's defense. "Don't be so quick to judge," he chastised. "Ezra was in a train accident that left him in a coma for years. While his body atrophied, his brain underwent a radical transformation."

  "The brain is more malleable than we can possibly imagine," the gnarled old man whispered.

  God knows I was already beginning to lose patience with that mantra!

  "Ezra's mind was somehow enhanced," Sebastian proclaimed. "And when he finally awoke he found himself gifted with the ability to open a doorway to the afterworld."

  "Poppycock!" I screamed so loud that the butler reappeared. He continued to linger until Sebastian emphatically shooed him away.

  "It's true and I'll prove it to your right here and now!" Sebastian declared.

  "How?"

  "By bringing Josephine back across the void!"

  Ignis Fatuus

  Part 2 - Through Death's Door

  The better part of the next hour was given to setting up various pieces of strange electrical equipment that were ultimately all wired together. Even though he was blind, Ezra was quite adept at assembling the apparatus. While I was impressed with his manual dexterity, as a man of science I had serious doubts about the efficacy of his curious device.

  Despite my protests, Sebastian allowed himself to be tethered to the contraption with a multitude of cables.

  "There's nothing to worry about, Percy," he assured me. "I've done this a dozen times already."

  The first four notes of Beethoven's famous symphony which I'd heard performed earlier in the evening sounded in my head as the weather-beaten old man prepared to throw the switch.

  *****

  I understood Percy's reservations, but he'd never been to the afterworld. Other
than our lord and savior Jesus Christ only I, Sebastian Yates, had ever returned from the ether. By the end of the night, however, Percy would be converted. When Josephine once again stood amongst the living, he would be a zealous disciple of Ezra's teachings.

  But for now, I had to focus on the journey ahead. My guru flipped the switch and the familiar surge of electricity raced through my nerves, comingled with a rapid influx of adrenaline in my bloodstream. Suddenly my brain was on fire! I opened my eyes to find myself standing on the threshold between the world of the living and the world of the dead. Without hesitation, I opened the portal and stepped through.

  My mind reeled as I experienced the mixing of the five senses known as synesthesia. I could feel colors and taste sounds. When my body finally adjusted to the stimuli of the afterlife, I looked at the fen beyond the door. During my first trip to this realm I'd traversed the marshland on foot, but on subsequent visits I remembered the malleability of the mind and I willed myself to simply soar over the place.

  Once again I took flight. Glancing down I saw the mysterious, ghostly lights known as will o' the wisps, a phenomenon known in Latin as ignis fatuus.

  Though it was nighttime back on the Earth, it was dawn here and the pink sky was edged with gold. As I continued to soar high above the ground the entire vista of the afterworld stretched out beneath me.

  I saw the many places I'd visited during my previous sojourns. A twisting river, glittering like a silver snake in the early morning light, cut its way through various lands of great antiquity. To the north were snow-capped mountains and beyond those were endless fields of blue glaciers. To the south was a broad plain filled with terrifying scenes that reminded me of the disturbing works of the fifteenth-century Dutch artist Hieronymous Bosch, especially his magnum opus The Garden of Earthly Delights.

  But my destination lay to the east. Many hours passed before I came upon the vast reaches of a desert. Deep within the waterless expanse, amidst the untrodden sands, I espied the crumbling walls of a nameless city. Amidst the brooding ruins were obliterated edifices and relics of a long-forgotten race. The city had once been mighty, and when I first saw it I wondered at its source of greatness, but now my only interest was to find my precious Josephine.