Chapter 15. In front of the mirror of the abyss

The words "tonight" hung in the air of the workshop, heavy and inexorable, like a sentence. The plan, which had been only a tentative hypothesis, became a terrifying, pulsating reality in an instant.

Elina was the first to come out of her stupor. Her maternal fear was replaced by a cold, furious determination.

—Okay,— she said, and her voice was as steady as a blade. "What does he want?" What can we use?

Hugh, still clutching the dead crystal in his hand, spoke quickly, breaking off, the thought outstripping the word.:

— He can't just "extinguish" himself. It's... it's like trying to stop your own heart. We need an anchor. Stunt. Something that will keep his consciousness here while he... while he tries to make himself invisible to the world.

He darted to the shelves, scooping up objects from them: a dusty bracelet made of dull metal, a smooth black stone, an old silver coin.

— Something simple. Something without its own energy. Otherwise, his gift will burn it away in the first second.

Lyra, still pale and frightened, suddenly stepped forward. She took off a simple leather cord from her neck, from which hung a small, perfectly smooth stone.

— Here you go. A river pebble. I found him when I was a kid. He's... he's just a rock. Nothing else.

Hugh took the shoelace and nodded. His fingers were trembling.

— It will do. It would be perfect. Now... now comes the hardest part. Gray," he turned to his son. "You'll have to do the same thing you did with the crystal. But not with an external object. With him. You have to feel... your own energy. Your presence in this world. And try to... mute it. Do not extinguish. Dim it like a lamp.

Gray looked at the stone in his father's hand. The task seemed unthinkable. How do you feel the air you breathe? How do you hear the silence inside your own head?

—I... I do not know how,— he confessed softly.

"Remember how quiet it was in the house when the guards left,— Elina said suddenly. She came over and put her hand on his shoulder. Her touch was firm and steady. — Remember the feeling when you realized that we were alone. That's what needs to be achieved. Inside yourself.

Gray closed his eyes. He dropped the fear, dropped the sound of his own heart pounding somewhere in his throat. He tried to do what he always did, to feel the world around him. The texture of the stone in your hand. The smell of dust and magic in the workshop. The breath of my father and Lyra.

If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

And then he tried to do the opposite. Disconnect. Imagine that his own body is just another object in the room. No more important than a chair or a workbench. That the flow of his thoughts is just noise that can be turned down.

At first, nothing happened. There was only tension in his temples and a growing headache.

"You're burning yourself from the inside out," Hugh said sharply, watching him with a scientist's gaze. "Relax. Don't force me. Let it happen.

Gray took a deep breath and... let go. I stopped trying. He just sat in silence, listening to his own existence gradually fade away, as the feeling of his own skin, his own breathing faded into the background.

And then he felt it. A barely perceptible buzzing at the edge of perception. A faint but constant hum is the sound of his own life.

He mentally reached out to this hum, like to a dimmer on a lamp. And he turned around.

SUDDEN DEAFNESS.

He's not blind. He was deaf. Deafened from the inside. The feeling of one's own body disappeared. He could no longer feel the weight of his bones, the beating of his heart. He was just a point of consciousness floating in perfect, vacuum silence. It wasn't peace. It was the horror of nothingness.

From afar, as if from the bottom of a deep well, came the muffled, distorted voice of Hugh:

—The gods… He's... he's almost gone. Ali, I can barely feel him.…

The voice trailed off. His connection to the anchor—to the smooth stone in his hand—was hanging by a thread. Another second and he would have fallen into that silence forever.

With a huge effort of will, which cost him superhuman pain, Gray mentally released the dimmer.

AN EXPLOSION OF SENSATIONS.

The sound, the light, the smell, the feel of his own body—everything hit him with triple force. He gasped and staggered back, falling to the floor. A trickle of blood flowed from his nose, and there was a deafening ringing in his ears.

Pale, terrified faces stood over him. Hugh wiped his forehead with a trembling hand. Elina pursed her lips so that they turned white.

Gray gasped hoarsely, choking on his own heartbeat. "Never again…

—You lasted maybe five seconds," Hugh whispered with a mixture of horror and admiration. "This... this might be enough to get past the sleeping guard." Maybe. But not anymore.

Lyra silently handed him a cloth. Her eyes were round with fear.

Gray stood up, leaning on the wall. The world was still swimming before my eyes. But through the fear, another feeling broke through—an aching, chilling understanding.

To become invisible, he had to look into the abyss of his own non-existence. And he'll have to look longer next time.

He looked at the darkening sky outside the window. Night has already descended on the city. Their time is up.