Six Times Through

I was twelve the first time I passed through; old enough to think that I knew everything, and young enough to not know a damn thing.

One moment I was at home, and in the next I was in a literal magical forest three worlds away. I met a prince, befriended a dragon, found a secret gem of power, the Moon’s Silver Eye, and used it to dethrone a queen.

— # —

The second time happened when I was fifteen.

I was a different person. Puberty, high school, and a sick parent do that to you.

Older, more weathered, the magic luster of the other world held no sway on me. There was no sense of wonder, or spectacle. Everywhere I looked, I saw injustice, or some twisted thing trying to kill me.

I barely slept, I developed a nasty cold, and anything I ate, went right through me. If that weren’t bad enough, it turned out that after I helped my prince overthrow his mother, he had grown into a tyrant. He had set his gaze upon other kingdoms and war broke out. Thousands had died.

When I asked him why he laughed and said, “Because I could.”

I did what I felt I needed to do to right the wrongs of my past. I snuck into the palace and shattered the Moon’s Silver Eye. With it gone, the tyrant’s power crumbled, and the war came to an end.

— # —

The third time was a month after the second.

I had other things on my mind…prom dresses, protests, getting my permit, my dad’s surgery, and then—boom—I was back in that world staring face to face at a girl no older than me. Her cheeks were gaunt and her body frail.

She cussed at me in a language I didn’t recognize.

When she switched to Lower Common, a language closer to my own, I finally understood her anger.

The Moon’s Silver Eye had been a prison for an old god. That’s why it held so much power. Now freed, that god ravished the land, and because I had freed them, only I had the power to trap them.

Evelyn, the angry girl, who deserved to be angry, agreed to help me fix my mistakes. We set off to find Harkon, the dragon I had befriended so many years ago.

Late one night, while camped near a crystal clear stream, I decided to bath. What I didn’t know, was that the stream was kelpie territory, and in three seconds I went from scrubbing the dirt off my knees to having frilly fingers forcing my head below the water.

Evelyn was there in a flash, knife out, but not to attack.

She rapped the hilt against stone, sending sound waves through the water. When the kelpie turned their attention to her, she held out the blade as an offering.

They took it and left.

As I laid on the pebbled beach, gasping for air, she knelt next to me and whispered, “If you die, I will have you resurrected, so that I can kill you again. Then I will have you resurrected a second time, so that you can put an end to this god you have plagued us with. You are the only one who can reseal the Moon’s Silver Eye. Stop acting like a ginhammer.”

I still don’t know what a ginhammer is, but it was that moment when I realized I was starting to admire Evelyn. Not for the threat, but for how quickly and smoothly she handled the kelpie with no violence. She wasn’t just smart, but she cared, truly cared for other’s well being.

Two days later we found Harkon, the dragon. He told us how to stop the old god.

I needed to be the one to do it, but a price had to be paid, and Evelyn paid it.

She paid with her life.

Her soul merged with the Moon’s Silver Eye, once more sealing the old god back into it.

— # —

The fourth time happened just before my sixteenth birthday.

For months, I had been haunted by nightmares of Evelyn. I’d wake with my pillow soaked through, calling for help.

I knew things were bad when my mother asked me if I was alright. Usually, she was too focused caring for my dad. Her concern spurred me to seek out a gateway.

I crossed the veil, and the moment I did, I could hear Evelyn’s endless cries, the very things that haunted my sleep, now assaulted me in my waking hours.

I followed the sound of her screams to a split in the sky, like a reverse gorge, that opened to a river of cosmic horror. It was The Great Halls, the afterlife of this world.

At the frost covered gates, I met a god, who had been watching me since my first visit. When Evelyn had scarified herself to seal the Moon’s Silver Eye, the god had swapped her for someone else. The other person had died, and Evelyn had become the god’s prisoner.

This god, was like the other god, stuck, and like all stuck gods, he wanted to be free.

He was the one sending me dreams. He was the one torturing Evelyn, and if I released him, he promised to set Evelyn free.

I asked Evelyn what she wanted, and she told me to do the right thing.

So I did.

I left and I hated myself for leaving her.

— # —

The fifth time was because I panicked.

For more than ten years I had been haunted by Evelyn’s cries. Then, one night, they stopped.

Imagine holding a fifty pound weight, and no matter where you go, it’s just there.

You go to the toilet.

You go to the park.

You go to the grocery store.

You go to your mother’s funeral.

Everywhere you go it is there. It’s heavy, and all encompassing, and no matter how hard you try, you can’t get rid of it or escape it…then one day, it’s just gone.

The first hour of silence was relief, but the second brought fear. By sunset I had found a gate and traveled to the other side.

The world was unrecognizable.

One of the moons was missing, and where the great mountains once stood, now raged an ocean.

I sought out the dargon, Harkon, and he told me, that once long ago, four gods had created this world. They were all eventually imprisoned. Two of which I had met.

The other two, through means, luckily unrelated to my own actions, had finally broken free. They had released their counterparts, and the world had became their playground.

Neither death nor life had any meaning anymore. Reality was broken.

I didn’t just leave, I ran.

— # —

Before the sixth time occurred, Evelyn visited me.

I was finishing my shift and had just cashed out after the restaurant closed, and there she was in the parking lot.

I thought the torture was back, and she would shriek in pain, but then her hand graced my cheek, and she kissed my brow.

“How?” I asked.

“My world has fallen, so I decided to come home.”

“You aren’t from here.”

She kissed me again. This time on the lips. It was our first kiss. One I had been dreaming about for thirteen years.

“No,” she said. “But I am home.”

I took her to my shabby flat. We didn’t sleep. We just talked and enjoyed the safety of being in each other’s embrace, as if the other’s arms could hold back the years of trauma that we had been through.

While I had heard Evelyn, she had actually seen me. She had been there when sickness took my father. She had been there when my mother died in a car crash. She had seen me fail out of school. She had witnessed every high and low I had ever had.

Warm early morning light fell across her cheek as she rolled in bed to face me.

“You might have screwed up as a kid,” she said. “But that doesn’t mean you are a bad person. You need to forgive yourself. No one deserves what we have suffered.”

“But if I hadn’t helped—”

“The other gods would have broken free anyway.” Her hand reached under the blankets taking mine. Our fingers intertwined. “But now I am here to rescue you from this awful place.”

“But I was supposed to rescue you…”

“You are such a ginhammer.” She kissed me on the forehead. “Did you ever consider that maybe I’m the hero of our story? Let me help you. You deserve to be happy.”

“I don’t.”

“You do.”

Evelyn held me and we both cried.

A few hours later, we crossed through a portal, but this time we did not take it to her world. This time we took it to somewhere new, somewhere where there were no gods, somewhere where we could be safe, and be together.

© 2023 Scott King

About the Author

Scott King was born in Washington D.C. and raised in Ocean City, Maryland. He received his undergraduate degree in film from Towson University, and his M.F.A. in film from American University. For years, he worked as a college professor teaching photography, digital arts, and writing related classes. He now works full time as an author. He is disabled and non-binary. His non-fiction books are a way for him to get back that feeling of teaching a class, while his fiction books are his way of having fun. Find out more about Scott King at: http://www.ScottKing.info or follow him on tiktok at: @KingScottKing