A Talk with Father

Imagine a line of horses endlessly running along a straight track, perfectly in sync, the head of any horse so close to the tail of the next that they could be touching. This track extends forwards and backwards to infinity, and the horses are just as endless. The track represents time, and the horses snapshots of a single horse from every possible instant, forming a continuous procession stretching from the past to the future.

So long as every horse moves at the same speed and in the same direction, the past can never catch up to the present, and the present never overtake the future, every moment infinitely close yet just barely out of reach.

But suppose, by magic, one horse stopped, or turned around completely. It would catastrophically collide at high speed with the horse a mere instant behind it. In other words, the object would immediately collide with its past self, and be annihilated.

This was, in essence, how my spell worked. At least in theory—there are some aspects I still can’t account for, like why I don’t see the object blink out of existence the moment the spell is cast. Perhaps there’s actually an infinitude of Victorias, and only one of them actually sees the bear blink out of existence.

“What a terrifying thought.”

I reflexively tapped my pen against the desk, replaying today’s events in my head. The candle on the inn desk was now a short stump, flickering weakly as I stared at my spellbook. I had changed into my nightgown hours ago, but my mind was racing too much to sleep. At the very least, I should fix the targeting on my spell…

“My lady. It’s getting quite late, isn’t it?” Klara sighed.

“Just a moment.”

“Remember, we’re leaving first thing tomorrow morning,” Klara said as she extinguished the candle with her fingers. “And you should think about what you’re going to say to your father. I will be heading to bed, call for me if you need anything.”

The door clicked shut, plunging the room into darkness. Outside, the eternal fog swirled, glowing weakly by diffuse moonlight.

Think about what to say to Father… Klara, how am I supposed to sleep now?!

...

Rosenthorne Manor

We were welcomed back to the smell of a freshly prepared feast. I immediately got to work, tearing apart roast chicken and salads alike, wolfing down a bowl of vegetable soup. Klara was reminding me to mind my manners as usual when Father walked in, having returned from the Royal Institute of Thaumaturgical Research. Given his unkempt appearance, I’d say he had quite a busy week.

Ah. So that’s why the feast was prepared.

To my surprise, he wasn’t angry. I guess he hasn’t heard about what happened yet.

My father gestured to the servants. “I would like to speak to my daughter in private.”

“As you wish, my lord.” The staff silently filed out of the dining room, closing the door behind them.

“Victoria.”

“Yes father?”

“Please don’t talk with your mouth full.” There was a weariness in his voice, and this time I don’t think I was the cause.

He waited a moment for me to finish swallowing my bread.

“While I was at the institute, I spoke with the headmaster of Trinity Academy. While you are a few years younger than their usual admissions, he said that he could make an exception for you.”

My bread dropped from my hand, splashing into my soup bowl. I wanted to speak, but Father raised his hand.

“But, just as I was about to leave, I heard via the Institute’s Far Lens that there was an incident involving a bear in the town of Woodpine.”

I fell silent, curling up in my seat hoping to look as small as possible. He was disappointed in me again.

I knew he was going to find out sooner or later, but I still haven’t prepared my excuse yet. I braced myself for an incoming storm, but to my surprise, it never came.

“I heard you developed some sort of new combat spell,” Father said, stirring his soup. “Going in unprepared, causing excessive property damage… I suppose this won’t be the last time I have to tell you why your life is too important to risk on such… foolish adventures.”

He paused, setting down his spoon.

“But things have changed. I’m willing to overlook this incident if you promise me—promise your mother—that you will finish your research.”

“I promise.”

“Do you still have my old notebook?”

“Yes, Father.”

“I’m sure you know we’re doing this because of that accursed Fog. But it’s more than just reduced crop yields or the occasional dead bird. It’s been an open secret amongst the higher-ups for some time that the magical nature of the Fog dulls the mind. That’s why researchers working at high altitudes take special medicine and work on a rotation; even the senior staff at Trinity are rotated out every semester.“

I presented the cloth scrap I had pulled from the bear’s mouth. “Medicine, perhaps like this?”

Father only needed a glance at the cut-off label before he nodded. “A stimulant, to sharpen the mind.”

He continued.

“Recently, it has become apparent the effects of the Fog are not temporary. Even worse, we’ve learned low altitude only lessens the rate of decline. The elderly are the most affected, but in the end, no one in the world is safe…

“Sometimes, I feel my memory slipping me. What I could once clearly see in my mind’s eye has become a haze. I always thought it was… the stress of work… or a faulty memory of the past… but now, I realize, perhaps the Fog is getting to me too. In a decade or two at most, all our minds will all have been so dulled that we will have all forgotten what we are working towards in the first place.

“And you know what those fools at the Institute proposed?”

Father abruptly rose and banged his fist onto the table, before taking a breath and regaining his composure.

“Throwing more mana at the problem. Their newest spell array uses so many mages that the mana flux alone could burn a dragon to a crisp… but it won’t work… nothing works…” he said, tightly clutching his locket.

“That is why, Victoria, we risk execution for daring to try to turn back the hands of the clock, to give us more time, more time to uncover the cause, to maybe even stop the Fog from happening in the first place… more time to save everyone…“

His voice grew quieter, and I could see tears gather in the corner of his eyes. It was rare to see him this emotional.

“I know you didn’t have much of a childhood, but you’re the only one of my children to inherit my talent for thaumaturgy. I know I’m asking you to make a big sacrifice, but the world needs people like us.”

He leaned in towards me, his voice now a whisper.

“I have a feeling the headmaster knows more than he lets on. Perhaps he’s even deliberately steering the Institute away from the truth. I’m certain Mount Peerless is the key to solving this mystery. It’s the only place high enough for us to see beyond the Fog, but only Trinity Academy’s researchers are authorized to send expeditions there.”

“So what do you need me to do?”

“Go to Mount Peerless, and find the truth.”

...

I was in a long ballroom, pale moonlight shining through the windows. At both ends of the room were mirrors that covered the wall from floor to ceiling, reflecting endless echoes of myself through the silent hall. I walked forward, my shoes clicking against the polished floor. Somehow I knew I could not stop walking.

A Victoria ahead of me waved her arms, the one behind her did so as well, and then the one behind that, creating a wave that rippled down the endless chain of reflections. I instinctively waved in response, and looked back to see the motion continue backwards, each wave, each step, slightly out of sync with the next.

I walked for what must have seemed like hours down the same stretch of hallway before my legs gave in. The once solid floor felt like jelly, and as my feet slowly sank my body seemed to only grow heavier with each passing moment. I wanted to cry out to the Victorias in front of me to slow down, to stop, to give me a chance to rest, but my voice wouldn’t come out. I collapsed to the floor, but the hallways ahead continued to slide away, forming a widening chasm in the now broken chain of reflections.

I tried to stand, to catch up, but the Victoria behind me had caught up, knocking me to the ground. Before me, I heard distant screaming approaching like the crippling wave. The corridors ahead were breaking apart, the ornate columns and polished tile floors disintegrating into broken fragments, then into fine dust, then into nothingness. The voices of the Victorias reverberated, growing ever fainter before too fading into nothingness.

I woke up in a cold sweat.

That can’t be how it actually works, right? If my research succeeds… if we really manage to turn back time… will I still even exist?

I dreaded the idea for a moment.

If not, I’ll just have to make the most of my time at Trinity while I’m still here. I’m finishing the research on my own terms.