A Concept of Apathy

Prologue

“If you want something to stop, first ask why.”
– Ray, the Farsighted

I woke up, inwardly sighing. I wanted to scream and rage, but the feeling passed quickly. My anger didn’t matter, I just needed to figure out what was going on. I begrudgingly opened my eyes, and saw the man who must be my father stood over me, looking at me without a smile. It was like he cleared his face of all emotion, which made me think he was very emotional right now. A politician perhaps? It would explain why he would have practice hiding his emotions. He was a striking figure, with straight shoulder length black hair that did the opposite of feminize him, and piercing green eyes. He wore a plain white shirt with puffy white sleeves. It looked like I was somewhere in the past. Not my favorite, but there had been worse.
I would have looked around further, but I did not have control over my body yet, not enough at least. I always hated this part of growing up, but it never lasted too long. I was passed to someone who must be my mother, with wavy blond hair that looked like it would be long if it was not being stored in a bun. She smiled tiredly at me, as my father waggled a finger in my face.
It seemed like there was a third in the room, but I did not get a good look at whoever it was before hearing them say something in a language I did not understand, and a door being open and closed as they presumably left. It didn’t matter. I’d be here, in this world, for a bit. Then I’d leave, like I did the others. After all, this was my thirteenth reincarnation.

***

I was toddling around now, looking at stuff. I was not allowed to leave the house yet, which made my life harder. I was, as always, looked after carefully by “Madam Lye.” I had picked up on the language, but I still had a hard time making the noises. There was something subtle enough about the inflections that I was not getting, although my lack of understanding was fine for now.
I started my way down the stairs, headed towards the kitchen. I tried throwing myself down said stairs, but Madam Lye caught me. Taller than anyone else I had ever known at just under eight feet, she was ridiculously dexterous. Her hair was long enough it touched her calves, and was ever so slightly wavey. It was black, but I swore that it acted like crow feathers, how they sometimes seemed blue.
“Now Young Master, you need to be careful! You wouldn’t want to upset your parents, would you?” She set me down and adjusted the pastel red dress she wore.
“No, I guess not.” I said, having to instead crawl backwards due to my limbs being so short. I really did hate medieval times. Although, at least this time it seemed I was somewhat rich. “What time is it Madam Lye?” I was unsure how to spell her name, I had never seen it written, and it felt a bit weird to ask.
“It is late afternoon, Young Sylin.”
“Will my father be home soon?”
“I would think so.”
I hummed, and stood up to start walking. Already I had heard the words bandied about, “prodigy,” or “genius.” I wanted to deal with none of it, but it was harder to have a choice as a child. I walked into the kitchen, and was picked up and put in my chair by Madam Lye. My mother was poking at something in a pot over a fire, and Madam Lye went to take over.
“Sylin, are you hungry?” Asked my mother, coming to fuss over me.
“I guess. What are we eating?”
“We will be having a sort of stew. I think you’ll like it.” She mused, before it looked like her eyes caught on something behind me. I turned to look at the window behind me, and froze. My father was home, but something was following him. “Ah, look, your father is home.”
“Ummm, what is that behind him?” A creature that looked made of ice and vines, its body melting and rotting and renewing itself.
“Oh, don’t worry. Your father’s job is to deal with things like that. After all, where do you think we got Madam Lye?”
“But Madam Lye is human, is she not?”
“Oh, my dear sweet child.” She laughed, as my father pulled open the door, and walked over to us in the kitchen. “She is very much not human, she is a concept.” She stole a kiss from my father and went back to cooking. My father came to stand by me, and smiled. He usually smiled, but if something happened that he would not smile for, for whatever reason, his face slipped into this blank mask, like it was sculpted more than flesh.
“Sylin, it is time to start school.” He said, without even a hello. “This will be your tutor. Please, introduce yourself.”
“I will be addressed as Mister Reclamation.”
“Mister Reclamation? Dad, what’s going on?”
“Be polite.” My father scolded with that ever present smile. “I suppose we never did go over it with you, but they are an Idea-Bound-By-Concept. He is not, well, I won’t say harmless, but he won’t hurt you. You have nothing to fear from him.”
“What is your job?” I whispered, and my father looked like he was energized by just talking about it.
“I am One-Who-Makes-Concepts-Solid.” He said, then stood up. “And you will be one as well one day son.” He walked off, and started to set the table. Mister Reclamation had disappeared as I talked with my father, which meant I was left to contemplate.
So she wasn’t Madam Lye, she was likely Madam Lie. And magic was real. That was… not something I had seen before in any of my twelve previous incarnations. I felt something I had not truly felt for a long time. The fluttering of the thoughts in my head stoked the embers of curiosity. It seemed that despite everything else I believed, magic was real.

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