The Magician
Chapter Two
Emissary to Isis
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The Magician is will incarnate. He stands between heaven and earth,
one hand raised, the other lowered, channeling power between the worlds.
With the symbols of the four suits before him
—wand, cup, sword, and pentacle—
he draws unseen potential into form.
He is the bridge between what is imagined and what is made real.
He whispers: As above, so below.
What exists in the mind exists already in spirit.
What is formed in spirit may be shaped into the world.
The Fool stumbles into destiny;
The Magician bends it to his will.
​"It is my belief," Jim began, his voice low, "that the people of Earth may lack the skills needed to see themselves through. Their distrust of one another… some of it stems from our past interference, their clashing beliefs an echo of our shadows. Perhaps Pharos triggered catastrophe to erase the traces of our lost Earth civilization." His jaw tightened. "I traveled back, before the Great Flood. The Pegasus defaulted to that era. And now I wonder if we… caused it. I’m afraid to make another venture."
Isis’ eyes gleamed with impatience. "You are such a coward, Jim. Whether for better or worse, Pharos shaped that fate, not you. You cannot change history—you can only fulfill it. And you will fulfill it. You are destined to walk through time, and I, as your beloved, will always walk with you. Are not your mother and father themselves travelers now? What are they doing but weaving the fabric of time?"
Jim frowned. "We don’t know where they are. Or when."
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"Then I shall send you as my emissary," she declared
The words fell like a royal seal. Jim knew at once what she was doing. She meant for him to resent this mission, and in doing so, she would own him more completely. He accepted her offer with a nod. He had no choice; no one refused Isis when her mind was set.
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The queen rose, resplendent in flowing robes and glimmering jewels, and swept toward her throne room to confer with Sophia. Jim watched her leave, aware of how easily she reclaimed power.
Two new bodyguards approached, moving like mirror images—twins, indistinguishable from one another. Both were breathtaking, their presence as precise as clockwork. They moved in perfect harmony, often switching places in an instant, blurring the line between one and the other. They were telepaths; Jim could feel it in the way they breathed in unison. What one saw, the other knew, and though they spoke aloud for the benefit of others, they didn’t need words to communicate.
"Gemini," one said.
"Gemini," echoed the other.
They led him to his dressing chamber.
Jim donned his golden breastplate, its polished surface gleaming like liquid sunlight, and set his crown upon his head. Outside, detachments of the palace guard waited to escort him to the throne. Gemini and Gemini—two names, one soul—remained at his side.
As the procession wound through the palace corridors, courtiers and servants gathered, whispering of his exploits. Rumor spread quickly: the prince had traversed time itself to rescue his queen.
Only weeks had passed on Artemis since Isis’ departure, but anticipation now ran through Xanadu like wildfire. Whispers filled the air: he had defeated fleets. He had bent the Pegasus to his will. He had outplayed Isis herself. And now he would sit beside her as an equal.
The palace gardens overflowed with fragrant blooms, their scent dizzying and intoxicating. Gold-tiled pathways shimmered beneath his feet. Jim’s lips curved faintly; Xanadu was nothing if not theatrical.
Virgins lined the route, their eyes alight with reverence. He knew what this meant—tonight he would be escorted to the Pleasure Dome. Isis had prepared a gift for him, one of pleasure and power entwined.
He glanced sidelong at the twins, who remained poised and silent. Their symmetry fascinated him. Every gesture mirrored, every movement choreographed. Even their smiles felt dangerous.
Jim's role in Artemis society had been greatly enhanced because of the twins. What had been promised, had been now delivered. He would now be parceled out to further establish his DNA links.
Sophia had selected the virgins he would initiate tonight, and they made their presence known, dancing in a slow, spiraling nuptial dance around him as his procession advanced. Musicians of all forms gradually merged with the procession.
Isis observed everything remotely, sending orders and corrections through her communication links. The Equinox festival unfolded flawlessly under her unseen hand. Today she would present her children to Xanadu for the first time, and reveal the secret of their dual presentation to Artemis—a riddle only she could untangle.
im’s mind flickered elsewhere: Helen, Antiope… their faces lingered. He had promised them time, and now here he was, paraded as Isis’ equal. To Earth, he must look like a traitor. Perhaps they thought Isis’ rule wasn’t so terrible if Jim himself submitted to it. Maybe Antiope and Helen were the true champions of Earth in its people’s eyes. Perhaps Isis was right all along.
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He caught himself, recognizing her manipulation creeping into his thoughts like ivy. He hardened his resolve.
The crowd began to sing, voices swelling in waves. Jim was their chosen son, their destined consort, the vessel for Artemis’ will. Tonight his body would be offered to the goddess through her chosen virgins, and he would not refuse.
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Gemini leaned close, lips brushing his ear. "We expect to be treated well tonight," she murmured, her voice like silk drawn over steel.
Then she barked a command to the guards: "March sharply!"
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Jim’s blood thrummed at her nearness.
By the time they reached the Great Hall, nobles filled every seat, their finery blazing under the glow of crystal torches. The procession halted at the throne’s base. Jim and Gemini ascended the steps. He turned, surveying Venetia’s gathered elite, and addressed the empire with calm authority:
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"We are all parts of one body, sharing one Spirit, called to the same destiny. There is one life, one faith, one immersion. Living waters flow through us all, and there is an Abu—above us, within us, and through us. We will follow the truth, speak truly, and live truly. Each of us has a place in the great design, including myself, as I continue my ventures beyond the event horizon, so that the whole body grows strong and full of love."
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Jim seated himself upon his throne. Guards flanked him, their armor gleaming like statues.
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The lights dimmed. Silence fell. Sophia entered to announce the queen’s arrival, and all rose as one, their anticipation vibrating through the air.
The throne room was ready. Isis was coming.
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The Magician does not wait for destiny—he shapes it. He takes the Fool’s leap and forges a path where none exists.
