There are only two worlds - your world, which is the real world; and the other worlds, the fantasy. Worlds like this are worlds of human imagination. Their reality, or lack of reality, is not important. What is important is that they are there. These worlds provide an alternative, provide an escape. Provide a threat. Provide a dream and power. Provide refuge and pain. They give your world meaning. They do not exist, and thus they are all that matters.
- Neil Gaiman
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Dying sucks. Dying by getting your body crushed and your organs perforated with bone shards, sucks ass. Those were my thoughts as I lay tasting the asphalt after being thrown like a ragdoll by a particularly belligerent truck. I know, I know. What a cliche, right? But if you're living in a city, and go out everyday,I guess it's only a matter of time before you go from witnessing an accident to being in one.
Ah, and there comes the source of my current misery; I think, looking at the little girl, who couldn't have been more than six, and her dumbass nanny. Seriously b*tch! Who wears noise cancelling headphones in the middle of the street, with a child on tow? It wasn't even the driver's fault. I guess there must've been some problem with the brakes, because he was honking and yelling like crazy. But this Gen Z figurehead dutifully didn't give a f*ck about anyone or anything else, and kept typing on her phone. Walking from the opposite side, I tried to get her attention to no avail. I almost gave it up as a bad job, but then the kid looked at me and smilingly gave a wave.
So, I said f*ck it. Might as well give it a try. It can't be helped. Centuries of indoctrination by human society has made it almost impossible for any stable individual to stand by and watch a child die. Sure, we can kill millions of people by dropping bombs on them. But it just doesn't feel right to watch a kid bite the dust, without trying to help.
So, here I am, in incredible pain, watching the world slowly turn grey. I can see people milling around, calling 911, not that it's gonna help. Already I can feel the numbness setting in, the pain ebbing away. I see the little girl, as she comes close and leans in. A couple of light scratches and some dirt on her face. Good, I thought, looking at her teary face. You'll be fine,kid. You'll be just fine.
And then darkness claimed me.
I came to as a ball of light in the void. It felt strange. I didn't have a body. I couldn't touch, taste or smell, but I felt warm. Where was I, though? This doesn't look like the afterlife, there's nothing here. An endless black expanse. I don't think I was evil enough to be chucked straight into solitary. I did die from an act of self sacrifice, after all.
Maybe all those books and religions got it wrong. Maybe there's nothing after death. Just an eternity of pure nothingness. Man, this blows! I wasn't like one of those loser protagonists in fanfics that had nothing going for them before they died. No, I had a life, a good life. I went to college, got a decent job, had a couple of good friends. I was even in a relationship with a nice girl. Of course it didn't last, because I was too busy focusing on my career. All that hard work, for what? Absolutely nothing!
It took some time, I don't know how long, to exit my pity party. My thoughts went to my family then. They must've heard about my passing by now. Mom and Dad must be devastated. I hope they find some small measure of solace, knowing that I died saving a kid, & not by doing drugs or some other stupid shit. They will be okay, I think. Mike will take care of them. Just as I hope he will do his brotherly duty and delete all the porn in my laptop. It would be awkward if mom went looking for some of my dashing pictures and found out what kind of kinks her son had.
Suddenly, there was a blinding flash of light and I was no longer in the void. I once again had a body, although it felt made up of energy rather than matter. I was sitting in front of an elegant desk in someone's study. That someone was sitting behind the desk; an old man with white hair, who strangely reminded me of Gandalf the White.
"Hello, Ben", said the old man, smiling strangely at me.
"Hello", I replied. "Um, do I know you?", I added a bit uncertainly.
"No, you don't. But I know you", he answered. "We wouldn't be meeting under normal circumstances; but there's nothing normal about this, is there? No, you're here because I'm in your debt."
"Debt? What're you talking about? I've never seen you in my life. I'm sorry. I don't understand. Who are you? Where am I?" I asked, looking around the room, a bit agitated. " Last time I checked, I died. At least, I think so. So what am I doing here, wherever here is?"
"Your confusion is understandable, Ben. I will try to simplify things for you." He replied in a grandfatherly tone. "You have indeed shuffled off your mortal coil. Right now, your spirit is in a pocket dimension in one of the infinite interdimensional realities. As for me, I am an ascended being who exists outside the mortal plane."
I took a moment to process this information. "Are you a god?" I finally asked.
"If by 'god', you mean someone who can access the energies and concepts of the Omniverse and manipulate them, then yes, I can be considered one, I suppose." He answered with a small smile. "The debt I was referring to was the life you saved just before your untimely demise."
"The little girl?" I asked, confused. "What about her?"
"That little girl happens to be one of my last descendants." He stated, looking melancholic. "There are very strict rules regarding interactions between Immortals and their mortal relatives. Suffice to say, if not for you, she would not be alive right now. And thus we have the debt. You lost your life saving someone of my blood, and for that I am grateful." He said, looking straight at me. "Which is why I grabbed your soul as it was on its way to the afterlife, so that I could reward you for your service."
"Can you send me back?" I asked instantly.
His face took on a sympathetic expression. "I'm afraid I can't, Ben. Death has already reaped your soul in that reality. Even if I defy the rules and put you back in your body, you'll live the rest of your life in incredible pain, because there's nothing in your world that can heal your broken body. And if I fix your body, I've no doubt you'll be kidnapped by someone trying to figure out how you recovered from such fatal injuries."
Haah! Loathe as I am to admit, he was right. When not if, news spread that a guy who should for all intents and purposes be dead, was alive and kicking and fully healed, I would for sure be abducted by some pharmaceutical company or some religious cult or even the government. "What about my parents? Are they going to be alright?"
"They will grieve your loss. It won't be easy. But your brother will be there for them. It will take time, years. But eventually, they will move on. Just like everyone else." He said.
I knew going back was a long shot, but still. The worst part is not getting to say goodbye. If I knew today was gonna be the last time I would see my family... I guess that's why they say live everyday like your last. But how many of us really do?
"Now, enough of these pessimistic thoughts", he said, clapping his hands to get my attention. "You're a young man with your entire life ahead of yourself. We're here to discuss your future, not your past. As I said, I can't send you back to your previous reality. I can however, send you to a world of your choosing in the Omniverse."
Holy Shit! Okay, calm down. Deep breaths. "Are you saying you can send me to one of the fictional worlds I know of?" I asked.
"Well, they are not fictional, per say. But yes, you get the gist." He answered. "I took the liberty of skimming through your memories before this meeting. After all, I'd not just be sending you to another world, I'd also bestow a powerful gift upon you. I had to be sure you could be trusted with power, you see? Thankfully, I've seen enough to judge you worthy. Now, would I be correct in assuming that you want to be reborn in the Wizarding World?" He asked, with a smile.
"Yes", I said, without hesitation. I was an avid reader, having perused the works of Terry Pratchett, Rick Riordan, J.K. Rowling, J.R.R. Tolkien, George R.R. Martin and many others. I have watched all kinds of movies and shows and played my fair share of video games. Yet, when I think of reincarnation, one world springs to mind in an instant.
"Very well. Now, what kind of gift would you like to have before you leave?"
"Okay, give me a moment." I said, thinking hard. "What about my memories? Will I retain them?"
"Naturally. They'll not be tampered with. After all, it is our experiences and memories that shape us. What's the point of rewarding you if you cease to be 'you'?" He said, with a mischievous wink. "So, what will it be? A natural legilimens? A metamorphmagus? Blessed with tremendous aptitude for the magical arts? Heir to an ancient wizarding family, perhaps? Take your pick." He offered.
I spent a few minutes thinking about various powers, weighing pros and cons. I really wanted to go to the wizarding World. Learning magic at Hogwarts was the wet dream of any potterhead, and I was a diehard one. At the same time, after graduating Hogwarts, it was all anti-climactic. But maybe there was a way to make the most of both worlds, or in this case, many worlds.
"Oh? Looks like you have made your decision?" He asked.
"I have." I replied, straightening up a little. "I want access to magic that will allow me to travel through the Omniverse."
"Ho ho! You don't dream small, do you kiddo?" He chuckled. "But pray tell, why do you feel the need for that?"
I took a deep breath. " I really want to go to Hogwarts. Who wouldn't want to learn magic in an honest-to-god magical castle? Unfortunately, the wizarding World isn't run by wise and powerful witches and wizards, it's run by politicians. The lines have already been drawn, the rules made. Refuse to fall in line, and you'll be suppressed. If that fails, you'll be branded as a dark lord and persecuted. Even heroes like Scamander, Dumbledore and Potter were slandered and the public lapped it up. The only way to change the system is to become a part of it. But if Dumbledore himself couldn't bring any meaningful changes after holding 3 of their most important offices for more than 3 decades,than it's simply a waste of time."
"Hmm, valid points, I suppose. Very well, let's say I do give you a way to travel between worlds. What will you do with that power?" He asked, looking intently at me. "Will you use it to collect divine artifacts? Achieve immortality, reach for godhood, perhaps? Maybe, create a harem of all the beauties you admired from afar, hmm? What's the endgame?"
I took a moment to formulate my answer. The way the old man was looking at me, it felt like he could see right through my soul. Which he probably could, given my state right now. It would be a bad idea to sling some bull at the moment.
"I like comedies. I don't like tragedies." I finally said. "Believe it or not, I spent 10 years after the ending of 'Game of Thrones' before watching the show. I wanted to watch it sooner as everyone said it was great, but I kept putting it off because I heard a lot of good people died in it. And when I finally watched it, guess what? I didn't like it. Because everyone who deserved to live,died.
Call me a sappy guy, but I like happy endings. I like things working out, not falling apart. I think no one can have too much fun in their lives, and everyone could use some more. I want to reach out and give some joy and help those unfortunate souls that fate decided to make its b*tch.
If I help them reach their happy endings, who knows, maybe I'll find my own along the way. As for immortality, just look at me. Not even 30, and already a ghost. I wouldn't be here, if I had wanted to live forever. I knew there would be consequences for my actions. Do I regret trying to help? I don't. I did the right thing, and that's that." I said, leaning back. Strangely, I felt lighter after saying all that. "As someone once said, 'The goal isn't to live forever. The goal is to create something that will'."
He looked at me for a moment more, before a broad smile broke out on his face. "Well said", he called out, giving a soft clap. "I don't know how long that resolve of yours will hold, but I can see you're being honest. Very well, I shall provide you with the means to achieve your goals. Your powers will awaken on the day you turn seven. In the meantime, enjoy your new life, Ben. You've earned it." He said, standing up and coming around to shake my hand.
I stood up and shook his surprisingly strong hand. "Thank you, sir. For everything." I said.
"Don't worry about it." He said, taking one last look at me. "I look forward to your adventures, young man. Who knows, maybe one day we'll meet across the stars." Saying so, he looked at his wristwatch. "Oh, would you look at that! You're getting dangerously late. Alright, bye bye now." He then gently flicked my forehead.
I felt like I took a point blank artillery shell to the head. I kept screaming as I was ejected from the room into what looked like a hyperspeed lane, as my surroundings kept passing by at lightspeed. Before I knew it, I had once again lost my shape and landed into some kind of blob, with water all around me. I began to panic as I couldn't see anything. Man, I had just died a few hours ago. I was not looking forward to round two with the Reaper.
Soon, I felt like I was being sucked through a toothpaste tube, my body stretched and squeezed to the limits at the same time. Wait a minute! My body? When did I stop being a blob of celestial soup? You know what, it doesn't matter. Priorities. After what felt like an eternity of struggle, I came headfirst out of the deathtrap, and greedily took lungfulls of that precious, precious oxygen. Looking around with incredibly blurry eyes, I realised that I had just completed my first life achievement: successfully exiting a birth canal. Yay, me.
Apparently, newborn babies are not equipped to properly discern their surroundings. I found it incredibly hard to focus. Everything seemed too bright, too loud. I could roughly make out the features of a black-haired man, a disheveled blonde woman who had clearly just been through the rigors of childbirth, and what appeared to be a woman wearing a 19th century nurse uniform. Thank goodness the woman was holding a wand, otherwise the only explanation would be that I was born in the 1800s.
"Oh, he is perfect, Andrew." Said my new mother, as I was magically cleaned, wrapped in a towel and floated towards her.
"He has your eyes." Said the man, looking at me with loving eyes. "He is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."
' I'm not beautiful, I'm handsome ' is what I tried to say, but unfortunately all that came out of my mouth was "Wahhh...." Yep, infants have tremendously poor motor control skills.
"He has got an impressive set of lungs, I'll give him that." Said the man with a chuckle, gently taking me into his arms. "What should we call him?"
"How about we name him after your dad?" She asked, looking up from me to her husband.
"Reginald? No, no... Let's name him after yours. Let's call him Ben." He said, slowly rocking me in his embrace.
"Okay. Ben, it is. Benjamin Carter. My dear boy." She said, taking me into her arms again.
"Our dear boy", amended my new dad, holding me and my new mom in his arms. Finally, I could not longer fight off the exhaustion, and succumbed to a restful sleep, knowing that my magical adventure had just begun.