Netherworld Magic

‘I thought you would say it’s science.’

‘Playing with souls? Unlikely. But the magic is dying, Torrullin, and not just here and not just this magic. Soon folk will rely only on reality and be content with the little time they are allocated…as it should be.’

‘Gods, what happened to you? That is utter bullshit and I cannot fathom how you can make that narrow judgement when you have been beyond the confines.’

‘Come, Torrullin, folk like you will be dinosaurs one day soon.’

‘Come, Lian, what is reality? The tangible, the controllable? Fate, death? The three dimensions your senses deal in? What, then, is a sunset? Oh, nature’s spectacle, the reality of scientific factors colliding, yes, but what does it invoke in those who stop to experience? Do they merely accept the scientific reality or are they moved to tears, awed, uplifted, romanced? There is not one of the five senses there; no touch, no taste, no hearing, no smell, no sight…no, no sight, for even in blindness can it be, and cause emotion. That is magic. Why does a man run out into the first rains after a dry spell? Is he checking that it is real, is he giving thanks to his deity- which is magical also- or is he going out there to glory in the wonder of the water that is life? He cries, he revels, he dances, he kneels. Magic, Lian. As long as there is emotion, there is magic, for neither emotion nor imagination belong to the world of three dimensions. Magic will not die while one sentient lives.’

She sat back in her seat. Goosebumps climbed her skin. ‘That isn’t the magic I referred to.’

He dragged his chair around and sat on it back to front, arms dangling over the backrest. ‘Where is the difference?’

‘Oh, come! What you have described is natural…’

‘Really? Then all would experience it as part of genetic makeup. I have known men and women who have never looked at a sunset and not because they were unable to or there was no sun, but because they looked and did not see. They were unaffected. A sunset is natural, but how one reacts is the magic.’

‘Granted, but then it’s natural magic, if you will. There’s nothing supernatural in feeling uplifted after seeing something beautiful. Hell, how long have you been burning to say all that?’

A grin quirked and was gone. ‘Long enough.’

She smiled. ‘Rebuttal?’

‘You become aware of your insignificance and you are aware what is happening around you is bigger than you, more powerful, that it is beyond your ability to control, touch or change. It happens despite you. That is why you are moved, and say what you will, Lian, that is more magical than anything I can do.’

She did not answer and looked away.

Relentless, he continued: ‘Why do you have a painting of a forest on your wall? You, who shouldn’t know it exists? How do you understand what I mean when I speak of a sunset? Yes, you have seen the sunrise from the windows above, but then how do you understand rain? Is it because you know from your past life? Of course, but then consider Breem, the linguist. He has never left the caverns and had never seen the view from the windows. If you were he, why do you have a likeness of a forest on your wall or a picture of an ocean from whence a dolphin leaps out into the sun? How do you know what it is and understand? Race memories? Perhaps, but is that not supernatural? All of it is bigger than you and is part of your soul and would be even in the deepest, darkest pit. It is inexplicable, complicated and magical.’

‘You have been thinking about this.’ There was a suggestion of tears in her eyes.

‘Gods, Lian, are you not hearing me?’

‘I hear you and your words begin to change me. I’m intrigued by your need to say it, however.’

He rested his forehead briefly upon his arms and drew breath. Then: ‘I see the magic even in my sleep. It will not die and therefore some of us have reached for rebirth. A magic that gives us the magic for longer. Unfortunately the pain and loss eventually overcomes the selfishness, but that, too, I consider part of the magic. In all things there is two, equal and opposite. And, thus, we reach for death, the final magic where loss and love go hand-in hand and in that understanding comes peace. I have died, Lian, and now I can no longer do so. Magic and magic. And nobody knows just how fantastical that is.’

NETHERWORLD (vol VI)