Chapter 194: Irreversible Changes


    It was a few days later that she finally managed to see her mother and stepfather, who had booked the soonest flight possible. Nara’s salary slave mind set cringed at the expense such a last-minute booking would have incurred.


    “Meimei,” her mother cried, using her ‘nickname’ in Chinese, “Baobei, I missed you!” That was all she managed before devolving into a shaking, crying mess, and the two of them had a bit of a companionable cling-and-cry.


    Her mother was a small woman, shorter than Nara by a good few inches, with the tanned skin of a Chinese woman that had grown up under the hot and humid summers of Beijing. As an Asian woman in her late 50s, she hadn’t yet reached her instantaneous-grandma age, and still had a youthful look and wrinkle free skin that led to embarrassing but complementary moments where she was mistaken as Nara’s sibling or her friend. If Nara hadn’t already checked with her aura, she would’ve suspected her to have been an essence user. It was nothing, Nara supposed, that a good diet, regular exercise, sunscreen, and religious application of moisturizer (bought at the bargain bin at Ross Dress for Less) couldn’t accomplish. That, and winning the genetic lottery for eternal youth. This had been the lottery winnings Nara had hoped she had inherited, although it had ceased to matter with her essences and altered nature.


    Elliot, her second husband, was friendly with Nara, although certainly not to the point of a cling-and-cry, although he offered a companionable slightly-awkward-but-determined-not-to-be stepfather hug. He was far taller than her mother, reaching into 6 feet, with salt-and-pepper dark brown hair and stately facial hair that her mother seemed to like (or perhaps, it was the money. Maybe both. Her mother liked wealth, but not to the point of liking assholes—a mistake her mother made once). He was the sort of man that was always quietly gentlemanly, classic in the way he opened doors, carried luggage, but intimate with how he brought an extra jacket for his wife, Lynn, on outings for she was always cold, and accompanied her wherever she wanted to go. Even now, he had a spare jacket draped over his arm, which was immediately offered to his wife then transferred over to Nara’s shoulders, since her mother professed she looked “far too cold” and that “hospitals always kept the temperature too low, she’s going to get a cold from the air conditioning!” All very doting and domestic, and the sort of cultural superstition that brought a smile and an eyeroll.


    Nara’s memories, as she saw familiar faces, also quickly started to return, especially with their respective triggers. The body she occupied, for all of its uncomfortable human functions, did have an actual brain that stored actual memories.


    Her memories.


    (Nara wondered if that was partially responsible for her memory loss. The trauma caused by her time in the astral and her partial severing of the bond between herself and her body, had thinned the original link to frayed strands because she had shattered her soul. When her body was remade, she hadn’t the physical brain as a backup for the memories, so the new brain had been created without them, just what she had managed to retrieve.)


    Nara was relieved to now have tangible proof (as tangible as memories were) that she was more or less the same person personality wise, although with greater experience and shifted values. Still somewhat apathetic and distant. Still with the same worries of establishing close friendships. Still with the same, all-consuming hate of private transportation.


    As her mother held her hand and stroked her other through her hair, she caught Nara up on matters of the family. Her sister, jiejie, had gotten married to her fiancée, Aaron Sharp. She was now Elizabeth Ambrose-Sharp. (Her sister would never abandon their cool last name for something as ordinary as Sharp.) Her father, James Ambrose, was still the same as ever—


    “He might be worse,” her mother admitted, patting her hand. “He thought your coma was caused by the vaccine. He’s still retired, so it doesn’t mean much but…” she shrugged. Both she and Nara had come to terms with her dad’s conspiracy-consumed mind.


    She nodded, feeling conflicted over the information. She loved him, but it was possible to love someone and dislike who they were and what they believed in.


    “He’ll show up soon,” Lynn said. “Just another week or so.”


    He probably needed a cheaper flight since he was retired. Nara didn’t really mind.


    “And jiejie?”


    “She’s also arriving around the same time. She wanted to use this as an opportunity to see your dad as well.”


    That made sense with how CAPITALISM INFINITE GROWTH minded America was. Her sister had more vacation days than average, but she couldn’t compete with retirees, or Oskar, who lived in Denmark.


    *****


    Her jiejie, or sister, had the not-so-surprising tagalong of her now-husband, Aaron Sharp. A week later, with her father, the three of them visited Nara in the hospital as one big group.


    Elizabeth was a woman who followed the trends, wearing the people’s fashion of today—a tight crop top shirt and high-waisted pants. Her ears were always bejeweled with earrings, and silver Long (Chinese dragon) curled over the shell of her right ear—a stereotypical Chinese American choice. Like a bird to roost, a pair of sunglasses always perched atop her head. Nara had always been wary of her sister; an extrovert, kind and hospitable in many ways, but also selfish and unthinkingly inconsiderate, who thought her way was the only way that mattered.


    Nara actually thought Aaron was nicer than her sister, but it may be the bias of memories that remembered grievances where Aaron had inflicted none. He was slender, fit, and tall, with angled features and high cheekbones like his surname. Her sister liked all her previous boyfriends fit and held herself to the same standards.


    Her gaze swept to her father, who stood behind the couple who greeted her first. He was haggard and thin, and perhaps belonged more to the hospital than she did but would never allow himself that for his contempt and mistrust of modern medicine. He was tall, over 6ft like Elliot (what a coincidence). His hair and beard had always been white-blond, and now was mainly white, and he limped a bit from an ankle that never quite healed, and the various health problems compounded with age, lead poisoning, and a refusal to allow a diagnosis.


    He was a typical boomer in many ways, brainwashed by the social media they had learned to doubt in the worst ways, untrusting the government yet worshipping the other side all the same. Even though Nara knew he would think it was his alternative medicine and holistic treatments that had healed him, Nara quietly cleansed away what afflictions had ailed him, their notifications a sad record of age and distrust. She unfortunately could not directly heal him like she did herself, but Astral Blessing did trigger and grant him Integrity, as afflictions and age had brought his usage of stamina so high that just walking around consumed enough to trigger it.


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    *****


    A week and a half later Nara was shuffled into a car (cursed object. This shall be the one and only!), wheelchair and crutches somehow shoved into the back of the smaller, European vehicle, leaving behind protests and questions about her semi-miraculous recovery (and taking with them a useless binder full of information and appointments. Nara felt sorry for the nurse or assistant that compiled it), which, while still nowhere near peak iron, was far further along than what 3 weeks of convalescence should have wrought. Eva was with Oskar in shotgun, glancing between the two as a semi-anticipatory atmosphere developed over the sound of wheels on asphalt.


    “You said you’d explain,” he said tersely. “Once you left the hospital. We’ve done what you wanted, against the better judgement of a whole building full of experts!”


    “Can’t this wait until we get back? It’s like, 40 minutes.” She didn’t really want to do this while weak and coma exhausted.


    Oskar groaned. He wanted to slam his face on the steering wheel. She had a point. He had waited 2 weeks already, he could wait 40 more minutes.


    Eva glanced between the two, a little confused over this dynamic. They had become somewhat friendlier over the course of Nora’s hospital stay, but Eva had noticed her husband’s odd anxiousness and excitement. What had they discussed?


    Oskar let the topic go with a sigh, leaning back into the seat of the car, and continued to drive.


    The Str?m family house was not quite a mansion, although it did have enough rooms to house all of their current guests, especially when the married pairs shared. Nara was getting quite tired of being literally pushed around in a wheelchair when weeks before she had more physical ability than an Olympic athlete. She was more mentally tired than physically tired, and when she had finally been left alone after the gratuitous greetings of those around the house, her introverted soul almost cried from relief.


    After she locked the door to her room, she got to business.


    *****


    Nara had thought there was nothing worse smelling than rank up sludge. Nara found out that the only thing that was worse than the smell of rank up sludge was the smell of twice rank up sludge.


    *****


    Oskar would not be deterred forever, and eventually a knock sounded on Nora’s door. She let them in, Oskar and Eva both. The people of the house were winding down for the afternoon, wandering into the nearby woods for a nice stroll within the green, or retiring to their rooms on their laptops to work from home. From her room, he could hear the TV downstairs, the parents watching something together.


    When Oskar stepped into the room, he was immediately stunned unbelieving by how different Nora looked. Her skin was smooth and glowing, faced rounded with healthy fat instead of the sunken cheeks of her coma. She was muscular too, with whip-cord biceps that could bend steel, which could not possibly belong to someone a mere 3 weeks into a coma recovery. His rational mind tried to rationalize it, and failed.


    “Well come on then,” she said decisively, a stark difference than her previously diminished form. She swept past them, all magnetic power that Oskar could vaguely sense but did not understand. “Let’s gather the farm.”


    Within 30 minutes the family had been herded, situated in the large living room on various couches, and the TV had been turned off. The most perceptive noticed that Nora was walking around on her own two feet, which included everyone but her own sister and father.


    She paced around the center, bare feet on carpet, looking unsure of how to begin.


    “So,” she began slowly, “The short of it—I fell into a coma one and a half years ago. While my body slept my soul went off to another world.”


    Her sister scoffed, eyes glued to her smartphone. She held it level, and briefly snapped a selfie with a social media practiced instant smile. “What are you talking about, Nora? I know you like anime and fiction, but I didn’t think you were delusional.”


    “Fine. Treat this like a poetry reading or something. Can you stop yourself from interrupting, or did you fail to learn that in elementary school?”


    “No one cares about your writing. You’re not even that good at it.”


    “If you don’t want to be here, leave, but I’m not explaining this again.”


    Elizabeth pursed her lips, displeased, but ultimately stayed. Oskar was unsure what her objective had been—to demean Nora, in her hobbies and her explanation?


    Nora sighed, her rather thin patience at dealing with family further whittled down. “Watch,” she commanded and even Elizabeth had her eyes yanked up by some unseen force, as if Nora had suddenly become the most charismatic and important person in the room, a celebrity in their midst.


    Two floating glowing golden swords manifested in the air around her, and a shape swooped out of her shadow, coalescing into the shape of a wolf of night, the darkness filling up the room like a creature of myth. Oskar’s felt every heartbeat thud against his ribcage, and his primitive fight-or-flight instincts couldn’t decide which impossibility was the bigger threat. The wolf, it seemed, had little care of its threat evaluation, settling himself on his haunches, loafing onto the floor like an animal trophy shag carpet. A living animal trophy shag carpet. One with glowing eyes, a blue tongue, and very, very sharp fangs.


    “Does this seem like a creative writing exercise to you?” she demanded into the ensuring silence. “No? Good.”


    For once, Elizabeth had no comment. Nobody had any comment.


    “This is Thanatos, by the way. One of my familiars. He’s a very good boy.” As demonstration, she ruffled the fur on his head.


    The wolf yipped a greeting, resting his head upon his large paws. A large yawn flashed large canines for the whole room to see. A primal shiver skittered down Oskar’s spine, like a mouse fleeing a cat.


    “As I was saying,” Nora continued, oblivious or uncaring to their fear-driven attention. “My soul ended up in some magical world. I’ve come back with magical powers, and I can give them all to you as well. I’m offering—with some rules, which I’ve established for your own long-term wellbeing.”


    “Firstly,” she said, “You must read these three books in their entirety before I give you any magical powers.” One by one, books thumped onto the table. The first one, Oskar saw, was Introduction to Essence Magic. Then, Essence Users and Society, and finally, Essence Selection Theory. With copies in both English and Danish. He blinked at the distinct clash of reality. Magic books in Danish?? What the hell was going on?


    “This first book is the basics. What are essences? What are awakening stones? You won’t understand any of these terms, but you will once you read this book. This is your For Dummies book. This book is your new best friend. The second,” she said, lifting the respective book, “is your ethics book. I’m not entirely sure how magic works in this world—I know in my guts that there’s some sort of secret magic organization. Several, probably. But I haven’t had the time to find them yet, and I’m sort of in a hurry so my estranged-but-loving-father friend can go back to his family.


    “Regardless, essence magic is a lot of power. I’m giving you a gun and I want you all to know the consequences of abusing that. If you really start abusing magic, then we’re going to have a rather serious conversation that you will not appreciate.” She flashed a smile, a little sharp. “I know you are all law-abiding citizens, so it shouldn’t be a problem.


    “Finally, you have your magic selection book. Each person gets a limited amount of magic, so this’ll help you choose what you want. It won’t make sense now, so read the first book. Your choices are permanent, so think about it.”


    Before they even knew it, they each had a copy of all three books. Oskar thought he saw a silvery figure out of the corner of his eye, but he wouldn’t be surprised if he started hallucinating from the sheer absurdity of it all. Yes. Better to ignore the silvery figure. Did he even really see anything? How about he took one absurdity at a time.


    “Now, no matter how long you read, I want you to think about it all for at least 1 week. This will change your life. Your selection matters: It’s irreversible.


    “Rule 2,” Nara continued, “Is no social media, no external communication. Don’t post any of this online, don’t look up questions about it. Don’t call your friends, don’t text your relatives. If I find you breaking this rule, there’s going to be no magic handed out until I figure out what’s going on in this world. That could be months. I don’t have to give you magic. In fact, I could sell what I’m giving to you to others in the other world and make the equivalent of a few million dollars.


    “You’re my direct family, and I want to give you this. Just be cautious? I don’t want you to get picked up by the secret magic organization that I’m like, 99.99% sure exists. Or, I don’t know, stalked by a religious crazy and killed for being possessed by Satan or something.”


    “That leads to the very sensible Rule 3: don’t use magic in public. Same reasons as Rule 2, but I don’t want whatever organization that’s keeping magic quiet in this world to get wind of us and have something to leverage over us. If you get yourself into some sort of trouble with the official magic organization, I’m not going to bail you out. I’m not going to be able to bail you out, one gal against a government? Not happening.


    “Now,” she said, finality echoing the living room. “Is that clear?”


    A chorus of yesses sounded around the room, everyone too stunned to say anything else, one falling from Oskar’s own lips. He looked down at the first book, weighty in more than mass on his lap. His fingers traced the elaborate penned script, embossed in gold.


    Introduction to Essence Magic.