Page 63 of Torn Ivy
I take Ivy’s limp hand and press it to my lips. “We’ll fix this. I promise. We’ll find a way to bring you back.”
But looking at what’s left of the woman I love, I wonder if some things can’t be fixed. If sometimes the price of power is too high to ever truly come back from.
The perfect beings may be destroyed, but they’ve taken Ivy with them. Torn her apart in ways that might be impossible to repair.
29
IVY
I am everywhere and nowhere.
Torn apart like confetti scattered across infinite dimensions. Each fragment of my consciousness experiences a different reality, a different version of existence that my simple shifter mind cannot comprehend.
In one dimension, I am pure energy, dancing through crystalline structures of impossible geometry. In another, I am liquid thought, flowing through spaces between moments. Somewhere else, I am nothing but a collection of quantum possibilities, existing in all states simultaneously.
Tate?
I try to call out, but my voice splinters across realities. In one dimension, it emerges as a burst of purple light. In another, it becomes a cascade of mathematical equations.
Anyone?
But I am alone here, in these spaces between spaces. My memories scatter like autumn leaves, each one drifting into a different dimension. I catch glimpses of them as they pass:
First day at university, excitement and fear mingling.
Tate’s eyes, filled with concern as my chaos magick surges.
Torin’s cold touch, anchoring me to reality.
Bram’s shadows, dancing with my chaos.
Each memory feels both intimately mine and impossibly distant, like trying to recall a dream while still dreaming. I reach for them, but my consciousness is too fragmented, too scattered across dimensions I was never meant to experience.
In one reality, I am versions of myself that collapse into quantum uncertainty. In another, I see my body through Tate’s eyes, broken and shifting between states of existence, before it switches back to me. The grief on his face tears at what’s left of my heart, but I can’t reach him. Can’t tell him I’m still here, somewhere in this multidimensional maze.
Focus, Ivy.The word echoes strangely through realities. Remember who you are.
But who am I now? The chaos magick has torn me apart at levels deeper than physical, scattered my essence across dimensions that defy comprehension.
The thoughts fragment, each piece drifting into a different dimension. I am losing myself, losing the very concept of self. My consciousness spreads thinner across infinite realities, each fragment experiencing a different version of existence.
Reality cracks and reforms around my scattered essence but somewhere else, I experience time flowing backwards, forwards, sideways through dimensions I can’t name.
Please.I’m no longer sure who I’m calling to.Help me.
But help seems impossible when I exist in so many places at once, when my being has been torn apart at the quantum level. Each fragment of my consciousness experiences its own reality, its own version of existence, with no way to pull them back together.
The chaos magick has become my undoing, scattering me across dimensions like stars across the night sky. Each piece ofme shines in its own reality, but none of them can find their way home.
I am purple light dancing through quantum foam.
I am mathematical uncertainty given form.
I am chaos scattered across ordered dimensions.
I am everything and nothing, everywhere and nowhere.
Time has no meaning here.
