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Ezqava ‘Effigy’ Eodurus has had a storied past. Much of it, she prefers to
forget. She was young and stupid at the time, and very vulnerable. She
placed her trust in someone who turned out to be so much better than her,
she never wants to feel that judged again. She truly doesn’t understand her
own mind. She’s mischievous and unpredictable, and even sometimes violent.
That’s why they locked her up on Earth, and now on this random remote penal
colony. Colony isn’t the right word for it, though, since she lives
here alone. It’s not too bad. She has a nice home with a pool. The weather
is always tame, but she can see storms range in the distance, which is
interesting. They’ve provided her with countless hours of entertainment, but
no means of communication. She can see what’s going on all over the
universe, but can have no effect on it. Unless someone comes to talk to her.
Which they do, all the time, though less so in recent days. When she was
trapped in her cage on Earth, no one visited her. Most people didn’t even
know that she existed. Here, she’s so popular. Here, they value her
knowledge. Sadly, they don’t value her as a person. It’s her fault, and she
knows it, but it’s still been difficult.
It won’t always be like this. Effigy doesn’t have the power to see the
future, but with all the data that she’s collected, she’s pretty confident
in her predictions. Hers is not the only transcendent power in these lands.
There are two others, and based on the trajectory of their dealings, it
won’t be long before they meet. The only question then is whether she can
convince them to join forces with her. In the past, she would attempt to
gain allies through trickery and subterfuge. Her ability to shapeshift into
any human form has always been too tempting to ignore, and too easy to
abuse. Her usual methods won’t fly with Clavia and Echo. Not only will they
see right through it, but they actually have the power to turn on her. The
reason she was in a cage for centuries was because none of her combatants
knew how to kill her. The Cloudberry twins do not suffer the same
shortcomings. They have more power than her, and it’s hard to tell how
they’ll use it. They’re good...for now—if there even is such a thing
as a good person. That doesn’t mean they won’t fight her. If she wants them
to trust her, she has to be honest, good, and honestly good. That’s why she
has spent the last several years helping leaders of this pocket universe.
She’s been asking for favors in return, but only because that’s what they
expect. If she did it for nothing, they would be suspicious of her.
Effigy has been trying to get better, but without an unbiased third party to
assess her progress, she can’t know if it’s worked. Her self-improvement was
driven by her desire to regain the power and freedom that she once had. Is
this a paradox? Is it impossible to be worthy of the power that one seeks if
they seek it? Is ambition inherently evil? More importantly, how will the
god twins see it? Earlier, she planted the seed of her answer when an old
friend came for a visit. Either she’s about to get a third visitor in one
day, or her friend is back.
She watches as the personal pod streaks across the sky, and lands somewhere
on the other side of the wall that keeps Effigy from seeing the ocean. She’s
tried asking for a tower to have a better view of this world, but she’s
never given anyone enough intel to warrant such a gift. She’s going to play
it differently this time, not like she did before with Bariq. She’s going to
be cool and composed, but genuine and professional. The door opens. Two
women walk through. One is the friend, but the other is a stranger. “You
have returned,” Effigy begins, “sooner than I expected.”
“The term sequence that you provided was right,” Tekla replies. “It took me
to an evidently unused Nexus, which allowed me to travel to Origin, where I
met an apparent god, who connected me with this one here.” She gestured
towards the other woman.
“Hi, Francis Deering,” she says, offering her hand.
Effigy reaches out for it, then pulls back in horror. She forgot to
shapeshift into the form of a human. She looks like her true self still...a
white monster. “I’m terribly sorry. I didn’t mean for you to see me like
this. I didn’t realize.” She takes a breath, and transforms herself into a
woman she once knew by the name of Slipstream.
“It’s okay,” Francis assures her. “You don’t scare me.” Her skin begins to
vibrate and ripple. Within seconds, she looks like a masculine version of
herself, perhaps a twin brother, or something. She—or he—seems as
surprised as Effigy and Tekla do. “Wow, that was much faster than it is
where I’m from. Your world is interesting.”
Effigy smiles. “May I ask, what are your pronouns?”
“She/her when I’m in my female form, and he/him when I’m like this. If
you’re talking about me in a more general sense, and you’ve encountered me
in both forms about evenly, you can use they/them.”
“Can you turn into anyone, or just this one guy?” Tekla asks him.
“I’m not turning into a different person,” Francis explains. “I’m both
people. Nothing about who I am as a person changes when I’m in one form or
the other. They call me a dimorph; both male and female. I can only have one
reproductive system at a time, but my mind and personality maintain
continuity.”
They nod.
“I can shift back, if you’re more comfortable...” Francis offers.
“No, it’s whatever you want,” Effigy assures him. “Is that why you chose
him?” she asks Tekla. “Because he’s a shifter.”
“I explained the situation to the god, Senona Riggur, who suggested a
therapist would be of some use to you. This is who they chose.”
“So, you’re from another universe?” Effigy asks Francis.
“Am I?” Francis volleys. “No clue. I just go where they tell me.”
“Well, I really appreciate you coming here, and I would appreciate more of
your time. You see, I’ve traditionally not been so great of a person. As you
saw, I’m not a person at all. I think that I’ve learned the error of my
ways, but self-assessment can only get you so far.”
“You say you’re not a person. What do you mean by that?”
“Well, you saw. I’m not human.”
“Just because you’re not human doesn’t mean you’re not a person.”
“Do you know a lot of non-humans where you’re from? I mean, more intelligent
beings than just dogs and cats.”
Francis smirks. “I know a few.” She takes a beat. “Let’s get into this. Is
there somewhere we can talk?”
“Yeah. Tekla, do you need to get back to Judy before she gets suspicious?”
Effigy asks, worried. Maybe she is better, worrying about others.
Tekla laughs. “You think I took the Nexus to a hostile unknown location
without getting my boss’ permission first? She went with me. She was
granted her own wish alongside mine. Don’t ask what it was, though.”
“I see. Tell her thank you. She’s always been more supportive and
understanding with me than other people.”
“I will pass along the message. Until then...” Tekla starts to say, “I’ve
never skinny-dipped before, but I hear that’s how it’s done in this pool.”
Now Effigy is the one to laugh. “You can if you want. I also have suits in
the cabana. We’ll be in the solarium, if you don’t mind a little sun, Mr.
Deering. The windows are rated high for UV shielding.”
“That sounds lovely,” Francis replies.
The two of them head to the other side of the house to discuss Effigy’s
issues, and her self-doubts. In the spirit of my agreement with Dr. Hammer
to stay out of the therapy sessions that she has with her own patients, I
cannot relay what Francis and Effigy discussed in private. While Dr. Hammer
did not technically ask me to maintain the privacy of all of my
characters, I believe that she would prefer me to respect therapist-patient
confidentiality across the board except for conversations which are integral
to the plot. Suffice it to say, Francis’ wisdom was very helpful in Effigy’s
quest to not only become a better person, but to understand what that truly
means, and how to measure her own progress, as well as recognize her
successes for what they are.
Effigy looks up to the sky again. “You’re in my head.”
Is she talking to me?
“Yes, Superintendent, I am talking to you. You are writing this story from
an omniscient third-person perspective. You know everything that I’m
thinking. The fact that you chose not to watch my therapy session is
meaningless. You still know exactly what happened. You could always just
pull it straight out of my thoughts.”
“Who are you talking to?” Francis asks. They’re currently strolling around—
“No, no, no,” Effigy interrupts me. “You’re not going to ignore my question
by droning on and on about the minutiae of our current behavior, just to
reach some arbitrary word count goal on this installment. There’s vivid
imagery, and then there’s pointless and trivial details. We’re walking back
to the other side of the house. There. Done. That’s all you need to say.”
I wasn’t ignoring your question. You didn’t ask one.
Effigy stops to think for a moment. As she does so, a beetle-like insectoid
crawls along the leaf of a plant hanging from a pole on the side of the
building. A spider-like creature is on the underside of this leaf, and the
question is whether one will notice the other, both each other, or neither.
No one is looking at these organisms, but it’s still happening. Things like
this are happening all the time, all around you. If Effigy weren’t blinded
by her frustration with me, she might have the capacity to take a moment to
admire the beauty. She’s standing next to it right now, stewing. She’s
choosing not to look over at the insectoids, knowing all too well that if I
wanted her to look at them, she would goddamn look at them. For as powerful
as she thinks she may be, she is nothing compared to the might of the
author. I could erase her from the story with a few taps on my keyboard. She
would never connect with Clavia and Echo. She would never realize her full
potential. She would never really know if she became a better person, or if
the leopard simply can’t change its spots. I already spent years not
mentioning Effigy and her exploits at all, and I can do it again. I could do
it forever if I like. Her past as the final boss in the Springfield Nine
franchise may never have happened. I could erase that too if I wanted. And
maybe I will.
I just did. Effigy who?