Dr. Josef Legne
Administrative Hall #84
Braun Island.
Sir -
By receipt of this letter you stand inford that the Assembly as convened on Waning 35, 673 has revoked your right of travel to the mainland until further notice. While this body recognizes that your efforts in service of Ardalt have been exemplary, your unaccompanied presence in Calmharbor has been determined as a risk to the autonomy and authority of the Ardan governnt.
In the event that Chairman Dreschner is once more available to serve as your escort, this body may revaluate your access to the mainland. Until that ti, please make any requests for travel via letter addressed to the Office of the Assembly Parliantarian. Absent this bodys written authorization in response to such a request, you will be restricted from making landfall by ans appropriate to the circumstance.
This body recognizes that your confinent will present a hardship, and in recognition of your contributions to the national cause an additional appropriation shall be made available to you at the earliest convenience of the Exchequer. Should any further need for resources or personnel arise, your request will be given serious consideration.
In service,
Ludolf Schlieben, Assembly Parliantarian
Waning 36, 673.
Panic flared through him as he wrenched his eyes open, sitting up amid sweat-soaked blankets. He was in a small ships cabin, dimly lit with a few utilitarian chests shoved into the corner. There was little else beside a table and a chair, and a man sitting in that chair. Spark. Michael stared at him wide-eyed for a second, watching a smile creep across his thin lips.
Youre back with us, Spark said, scooting his chair around to face Michael more directly. Youve been asleep for hours, I didnt think youd wake before we got back ho. How are you feeling?
Michael didnt answer, sitting up from the bed and sweeping the blankets away. He was unbound. For a mont he looked down, then he slowly raised his eyes to the man who had killed Jeorg. He stood.
Oh, dear, Spark said. Angry, and I cant say I bla you. He leaned back in his chair, his brows knitting together. Ive made a ss of this. If I had planned a bit better we could have all co ho. I didnt even get to- He broke off, squeezing his hands into fists for a mont before letting his breath out in a rush. He looked up at Michael once more, showing wet, reddened eyes.
Im rambling with you in such a state, Spark said. You should rest, go on and sit. Are you feeling hungry? Weve only got ships rations on board but I always make sure to bring along so marmalade for the biscuits.
Michael stared at him. He didnt know what he had expected from Spark, but it wasnt this. Flighty, distracted, constantly on the verge of tears. It reminded him of Helene after his mother had died, charging down avenues of small talk with no aim except to fill a dreaded silence - except that the comparison was ridiculous, Helene had borne no responsibility for her death. His gaze hardened, and he clenched his fist-
Ive decided that I shall have marmalade and biscuits, and you may have so if you feel so inclined, Spark announced, standing from his chair. Michael frowned; he found that he was once again sitting on the bed. Spark opened the door to the cabin briefly and spoke a few quiet words to soone standing outside. Seconds later, he shut it once more and returned to his chair.
Should be only a mont, Spark said cheerily. Tea, too. Perhaps we can talk while we wait.
I dont have anything to say to you, Michael said, rising to his feet once more. Spark looked thin from this vantage, frail. One good punch would topple him from his chair.
Sparks eyes widened. Oh, oh! he exclaid. Youre contemplating violence! I rember, I used to do that. Believe it or not, I used to be a very bad person. Jeorg fixed that. Go on, sit down, I have so many stories to share with you.
Michael moved to close the distance between them - but faltered, because he was sitting on the bed once more. He stood.
Sit, sit! Spark said, waving a hand in his direction. The least I can do is make sure you get your rest after all youve been through. Now, what was I saying? He frowned, stroking his chin, then perked up with an excited smile. Ah yes, stories! Would you like to hear how Jeorg and I first t?
Bewildered, Michael stared down. He was sitting on the bed. Spark was watching him expectantly, looking utterly unconcerned that Michael might an him harm. With slow, creeping horror, Michael realized that Sparks confidence might be justified. Cold panic raced through his veins. He tamped it down and strove to focus. Jeorg had spoken of Sparks power in terms of paths, of altering by force what could not happen naturally.
So Michael drew his own path. He envisioned the act of standing, of taking a step forward with his left leg, raising his right arm. Planting the foot, twisting his body, directing all of his energy into the punch. The contractions of his muscles and flexion of his joints played out in his head, front to back, several tis until he had it all precisely visualized.
He exploded upward from the bed, hurling himself forward at Spark - but the other man rose just as he did, standing to face him with a smile. Michael twisted to adjust his aim; he wasnt quick enough. Spark brought his hand up and gently laid his fingers on Michaels cheek.
I was like you, once, Spark said quietly. His voice reverberated through Michaels bones, leaving a blushing warmth behind it. Single-minded. Charging straight for whatever I wanted. If sothing caught my eye I would take it. Jeorg showed how wrong that was.
Michael was frozen, unable to move. The light in Sparks eyes flickered in a subtle pattern that captivated his attention entirely.
He taught to draw the path between what was and what should be, Spark said, smiling wistfully. It took a long ti before I understood. People have so many little obstructions to account for, after all. So many reasons not to help with my research. You dont want to help because I killed Jeorg. His smile faltered. Its a good reason. It presents a dilemma, however.
Spark took another step, his face drawing so close that his eyes filled the world. I need you for my research, he said. But your path is important. Your natural state. I mustnt introduce variables by changing things. I need to understand you in full, to understand this wonderful soul of yours. Michael Baumgart as he truly is. The light in his eyes glinted, the flickering growing faster. But science is difficult. Sotis observation necessitates a change no matter how careful one tries to be. The key is finding the minimum. The absolute smallest change that makes the paths line up.
Michael barely heard Sparks voice anymore. It was as if the words were arriving fully-ford in his mind, each one ringing a pure and clear note. He felt the sensation of floating, of bliss - and then it passed. He looked up and found himself sitting on a bed in a small ships cabin. Spark was just settling back down in his chair with a teacup and a plate of biscuits, each sared with a generous dollop of orange marmalade. He took a bite of one and chewed with a delighted expression.
Ah, Spark said. Sotis a little bit of sweet is all one needs to brighten up sothing dreary. He extended the plate towards Michael. Go on, have a biscuit.
For a mont Michaels mind rebelled against the idea. He was furious with Spark - why? He stared at the glistening marmalade for a second and tried to rember. His mind wandered for a mont until sothing deliciously sweet and tart washed over his tongue. Surprised, he looked down to find a biscuit in his hand, a bite missing from the edge.
Thats better, Spark said cheerfully. Arent they delicious? So people have it in their head that they dont like the taste of marmalade, but they all seem to co around eventually. He took another biscuit, then set the plate aside. Now, have I ever told you about my dear friend Jeorg?
Michael frowned. The na carried an irritating feeling of familiarity with it, as if he had just heard it sowhere else. After a mont, however, he shook his head.
No, he said. Who is he?
Michael sat on a stump and looked out over what might have once been an orchard. It was bitterly cold in the clearing, and the few standing trees bore nothing but frost upon their branches. The rest had fallen and splintered. So lay in a charred heap off to the side. If he looked the right way, he could almost see how they had stood in their rows, orderly and flourishing. Almost.
He stared at the dead trees for a long while, trying to tease so aning out of their disarray. The wind blew unabated - until, at once, it lessened. The lack of cold felt like a gentle warmth radiating along his side. He turned to look and saw an old man sitting there.
Hello, Michael said. Do you know what happened here?
I do, said the man, taking out his pipe. He lit it, and the flare of warmth flowed from its glowing ember into Michaels core. Soone has made a ss.
I could see that much, Michael retorted - then paused, blinking at the easy familiarity that had co unbidden in his response. Im sorry, I didnt an to be flippant. Its just sad. Soone put a lot of care into this place, once.
Hmm, the old man replied. True. He took a drag on his pipe, then let his hand fall back down to his side. But nothing lasts forever. Everything cos to an end eventually.
The words resonated unpleasantly in Michaels chest. Youre not wrong, he said. Doesnt an I have to like it. He looked out over the broken trunks and withered vines, shivering. Its bleak and hopeless. I hate it.
You do, the man chuckled. Oh, yes, you do.
Michael turned to peer at him. Im sorry, do I know you?
The man laughed in earnest, setting his pipe down to look at Michael. Of course you do, he said. I am you.
That seems unlikely, Michael replied.
And yet. The old man rapped his pipe on the stump. Our minds see many things, to make sense of a world that stretches beyond their view. An old man and a ruined garden are just the shadows cast by a far-off light. Their form is what it must be, to let you make sense of them.
Michael scowled. Then that would be one of us making sense, he muttered. Though Ive been poor at that lately.
Youve suffered a loss, the man said. A loss in two parts. It has left a sizable void.
And? Michael asked. It isnt as if I dont feel it. What do you suggest I do?
The old mans mouth curved into a toothy smile. Michael Baumgart, he scoffed. Have you forgotten even that? You stood against a far greater emptiness and felt no fear. I know this. He jabbed a thumb at his chest, then pointed at Michael. Therefore you know this. You must draw the paths between you as you are now and you as you were.
Michael looked up and saw the glint of mirrors in the old mans eyes, the myriad possibilities spiraling away from every mont. And who was I? he asked.
The man tilted his head up. A man who denied the void, he said, and said it would claim nothing that he held dear.
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