Illarion looked over the town. It hadn’t changed much since he last saw it, but then again as far as he knew it had never really changed.

And yet… the sights and sounds of home seemed new in the light of what he had seen since leaving. Smiling broadly, he walked forward wondering what he would tell them about first. Any of it would be amazing, even the idea that there were other world somewhere… it was going to take a lot of explaining, but he was sure it would be worth it. Dominaria, perhaps… that would be a good way to start.

The door to his house looked smaller than it ever had when he had lived there, and the flower box that hung on the doorframe was empty. Not entirely sure of the proper protocol for reappearing after an extended (just how extended, he wasn’t quite sure) absence, Illarion chose to knock on the door.

A moment after it swung open. A woman stood there, her immediate gaze somewhere between uncomprehending and terrified.

“Kyara…”

The door slammed shut in Illarion’s face.

“Kyara!” he called, banging on the door, “Is that any way to treat your little brother?”

“Go away.” She said sternly from the other side. “You’re dead.”

“I’m not dead. I’m here.”

“It isn’t possible. I don’t know if I’m having some sort of breakdown or if I’m just dreaming but it isn’t possible.”

“Ky, look-“

“No! I’m not mad, I know that much, and while I’ll admit talking to my own delusions doesn’t help my case, I’m sticking to it.”

“Ky, just open the door.”

“I’m not crazy…”

“And I’m not dead! So open up and let’s talk about this like civilized people, even if we are siblings, okay?”

Illarion heard a sharp sob from the other side of the door.

“Ky, where’s mom? Can you get her?”

“You’d think a delusion would know.”

“Well, I’m not a delusion and I don’t know, so could you please open the door and let me in?”

Slowly, the door creaked open. Not willing to risk it slamming in his face, Illarion quickly stepped inside.

“You’re right…” Kyara whispered, looking at him. “You can’t be a delusion. You’re older, and I’ve never seen those clothes before.”

“That’s right. Genuine article number one, your little brother, stopping in for tea and biscuits with the family.”

“But… If you’re not a figment of my imagination, then what happened?”

“Something wonderful. Do you want the long answer or the short one?”

“Whichever.”

“Medium answer it is. What happened, is I’ve been traveling. Always wanted to travel, you know that.”

“And you didn’t write, didn’t stop by home, not once in three years?”

“Three years?”

“Don’t pretend you lost track of time.”

“I did actually. It’s rather hard to keep track of, never the same time of day in two places, rarely the same season more than twice in a row-“

“Stop.”

“Oh, right, haven’t explained yet.”

“Just… Stop.” She waved her hands, silencing him. “First question. Traveling where?”

“Lots of places.” Illarion said. “Dominaria, Ravnica, Regatha… the first one there is really the most interesting.”

“Never heard of anywhere like any of those, and I happen to own a globe.”

Illarion smiled. “That’s because they’re other globes, sis. I haven’t been traveling the world, I’ve been traveling worlds.”

“All right,” she said, “You’ve convinced me that I’m not the craziest person in the room at least.”

“I’ll prove it.”

“And how do you aim to do that.”

“I’ll… well, no, that might not do.”

“What?”

“I was going to say I’d take you to one, but then that might not be the best bet. New world, never quite know what you land in the middle of.”

“You’re bluffing.”

Ilarion scratched his head, and started rifling through his coat pockets.

“So, since I can’t take you on a quick hop, souvenirs!”

A myriad of items started to rain out onto the nearest convenient surfaces, as Illarion called out each one.

“Miniature carving from Llanowar… old map of former Dimir safehouses from a sightseeing tour… Ah! Take a look at this – pocket watch. Just like a big clock, only little enough to fit in your pocket. Picked that one up on Zent. This – Well I don’t know what it is really, but it looked interesting. Let me see. Oh. Well that’s a piece of rubbish and I ought to throw it out, but it’s not from around here either. Come on sis, just look. Anywhere in the whole world, you can’t find any of these things!”

Kyara looked over the items, her wonder growing as her eyes crawled over the unfolded and inexplicable map and fell upon the fob watch. Carefully, as though it might bite, she picked up the ticking timepiece and, with a moment’s hesitation, found how it opened. Inside, the simple brass hands pointed at black numbers on an ivory face, marking out the minutes and hours.

“Is it magic?” she asked.

“Not one bit.” Illarion replied.

“Then… how does it keep time, without a pendulum?”

“I don’t really know, but smiths on a plane called Zent do, and I’ve been to Zent.”

Kyara sat down, still staring at the watch in her hands.

“Other worlds, you say… where people can do things like this. That’s where you’ve been traveling.”

“I know it’s a lot to take in. It was for me too.”

“On your own, free to do as you please?”

“Oh, basically.” Illarion smiled. “I know what you’re feeling right now. All that wonder, feels great, doesn’t it? That’s Tuesday out there, every ordinary day something we’d never call ordinary in a hundred years!”

“Great.” She said, bitter and harsh. With a loud snap, she closed the watch and set it aside.

“Ky…”

She closed her eyes. “Three years.”

“Ky, alright, I know now, three years. I’d have guessed less, but that’s neither-“

“Three. Years.” She opened her eyes, stood, and slapped her brother across the face.

“Three years gallivanting across the universe-“

“Multiverse”

“Whatever! Three years traveling wherever you please, whenever you please and you don’t even think to come home, not even once? You don’t even send us a message to tell us you’re okay! Everyone here, all your friends, everyone who knew your name thinks you’re dead and you think it’s great!”

“I always meant-“

“Meaning well doesn’t matter!” she shouted. “Meaning well doesn’t undo the searches, the panic, the heartache and despair! Meaning well doesn’t take away a year of hoping without hope, a year of mourning, a year of remembrance! Meaning well doesn’t do a thing!”

Illarion took a deep breath. “I couldn’t come back at first. Home isn’t exactly the bright center of everything we like to think it is, and by the time I’d learned to find my way… I kept telling myself it would be after the next world, and after then the next world, and I’m sorry, but I’m here now! Doesn’t that count for something?”

Kyara looked her brother in the eyes, seeing sorrow and guilt that began to temper her rage.

“I guess it does.” She said. “So, we’ve both got a lot of catching up to do.”

Illarion stood up from the grave, and turned back to his sister.

“I’m sorry.” He said, “I should have been here.”

“It’s not like that would have mattered.” She replied with a sigh. “It was consumption, not heartache after all.”

Illarion frowned. “So, you’re all alone now?”

“Basically.” She replied.

“What about Martin Gattis?” Illarion asked as they walked away from the churchyard and back towards the house. The town was as sleepy as Illarion remembered, so his appearance had yet to cause a stir.

“He got married.”

“Really? Wouldn’t have guessed, you alone and all.”

“I wouldn’t have either, but a lot happens in three years. I’m happy for him.”

“So enlighten me, what happened to everyone else. Darion?”

“Took an apprenticeship out of town.”

“And Lindsay Fowler?”

“Nothing special. Weaver, still.”

“Old Man Withers?”

“Yelled at me to get off his lawn last week.” Kyara answered, opening the door to their home and slipping inside. “I don’t think he’ll ever change.”

Illarion looked to down. “Marina Ells?” he asked worriedly.

“Who, again?”

“Come on, sis, I can take bad news”

“James Tyler is doing fine, I thought you should know.”

“I’m starting to get worried.” Illarion said, “Come on, have you forgotten Marina somehow?”

“You’re not going to like this.” Kyara sighed.

“I want to know.” Illarion said. “She was my best friend, and you knew enough to always tease me about it. What’s changed?”

“Marina’s up at Di’if Asylum.”

“The asylum.” Illarion whispered, breathless, “Why?”

“Because she said she saw you.” Kyara replied, “Talked to you every day.”

“And they put her in the asylum for that?”

“Yes! That’s what you do with someone who’s seeing things!”

“I wouldn’t send them to Di’if. I wouldn’t send my worst enemy to Di’if.”

Kyara sighed. “There’s nothing either of us can do about it. I know the madhouse isn’t a good place, but she’ll be safe and cared for-“

“And in a little box.”

“Yes. And I’m sorry, but whatever happened when you disappeared broke her bad.”

Illarion looked away. “This one really is my fault, isn’t it?”

“You said you didn’t choose to leave.”

“That’s right.” Illarion said, “But that doesn’t mean that it isn’t on me.”

“What did happen, anyway?”

“First kiss.” He sighed. “One second my heart was beating so fast, and the next? Falling through the dark. But don’t change the subject.”

“Sorry.”

“Sis, I can’t just let Marina stay locked up in Di’if.”

“I was afraid you’d say that.”

“You had to know I would.”

“Come on.” Kyara sighed, “Think about it for a moment. Unless you can fix minds, there’s nothing that you can really do for her.”

“I can get her out of the boxes up at Di’if.”

“And do what? Leave the world?”

“I don’t know!” he shouted, “But I have to do something. Why hasn’t anyone done anything about it? The Asylum is for dangerous people, and even then it isn’t humane then.”

Kyara walked into the other room. “Count me out.” She called

“What?”

“If you want to rescue your old girlfriend.” She said, “Stage a break from the asylum, do something you think is right but will probably just cause a big mess, count me out. I’ll wish you well, but I’m not coming.”

“You can’t be serious…”

“I am.” She said, “I’m telling you absolutely, categorically no. I’m not going anywhere near that blasted asylum. No, no, and no!”

The asylum guard looked up as the door opened. It was his job to make sure no one entered or left who wasn’t permitted, and the first person to enter was one he didn’t recognize. A fairly pretty young woman with shoulder-length black hair, wearing a simple blue dress. She didn’t look dangerous, but then not everything was what it seemed in Di’if Asylum.

“Who are you?” He demanded.

“I’m Kyara Vale, here to see Marina Ells.”

“No visitors other than family.” He said. “The crazies don’t take well to being excited.”

“You’re sure?” A male voice called from beyond the door. The speaker stepped into view, a young man and clearly related to the woman, “Because I have it on good authority that I’m her imaginary friend.”

The guard blinked. He hadn’t been drinking on shift, but had a hard time believing that he was hearing what he thought he was hearing.

“Imaginary friend?”

“What?” the woman asked, looking at him oddly. “What do you mean imaginary friend’?”

“He just said he was her imaginary friend.”

“Who did?”

“The man right behind you. Brother, I’m betting. Maybe cousin, stranger things happen.”

“Now who needs to be behind the bars?” the man asked, walking forward. The woman, Kyara, didn’t seem to acknowledge him,

“Brother?” she asked, “My brother died three years ago, Marina kept claiming she saw him. I just wanted to talk with her for a few minutes, about that really.”

“I said no visits if you aren’t family.” He said hastily. It had to be some sort of trick… but as the man milled around the room, Kyara’s eyes didn’t even move. She was focused entirely on him.

“You know what,” she said, “I’ll come back when they don’t have the inmates guarding the asylum, shall I?” she turned and marched out the door in a huff, leaving the man behind. He walked straight up to the Guard’s desk and bent over it, glaring at him.

“Well,” he said, “You’ve got a choice now.”

“And what is that?”

“You can let me see my friend, or you can’t. Either way, you’re never going to know again whether you deserve to be behind that desk, or behind those bars.”

“You think you can intimidate me?” the guard asked, “I see enough cheap tricks from the inmates.”

“Is that so?” the man asked. “Well, in that case, let’s try this one. You were right about the brother thing. I’m Illarion Vale, and in case you hadn’t heard I disappeared three years ago. Whether that means anything to you or not I will tell you that you have my best friend in the whole world, all of them really, in one of your tiny little cells. Do you really want to get in my way?”

“Please, safest place in the world for the crazies, those cells.”

“You put her in a box! You think I don’t know what this place is like? No one deserves your safest place in the world!”

“Calm down. Leave.”

The man, Illarion, stood tall and leveled a hand at the guard. Fire bloomed in his hand, crimson and crackling.

“I asked you once nicely. Now, I’m asking you rather not nicely. So, you pathetic little functionary, hand over the keys and tell me the cell number before I decide that this is too nice.”

The guard quickly realized he would need to change his pants. A mage! Or at least the delusion of one. He was almost certain that this was real, but the way the woman had acted… and hadn’t he heard something about one of the towns nearby going nuts over a missing kid? As he reached for his keys, he told himself that he would start drinking on the job again. It was safer that way.

Illarion grabbed the keys and smiled. “Smart man. Number.”

“F-forty two.”

“Alright. Now, you should probably go home about now. Shift’s over one way or the other, got it?”

“Y-yes sir.”

The guard stood, and tried to walk to the door. He got two, perhaps three steps before breaking into a run.

Illarion looked at door forty two and frowned: it was heavy, iron-bound, crossed with a wooden bar and possessing a tiny door-within-the-door that could be used to look into the cell beyond like every other door in Di’if Asylum. Slowly, he removed the bar, and then put the key in the lock.

For a moment, he hesitated, afraid to open the door. In some ways, he knew what was behind it, but in others he thought he’d rather not see it with his own eyes. Still, he hadn’t come so far to turn back, and even if he didn’t want to see what the asylum did to someone he cared about, he couldn’t let it keep going on when it was so easy to stop it. He turned the key in the lock and opened the door.

The room behind the door was beyond tiny: it was little wider than the door frame, so narrow that standing across its width Illarion wouldn’t be able to reach his arms out to his sides. At least, he thought, it was longer than that, so that an inmate could at least try to lie down upon the floor. Everything about the room was bare stone, from the floor to the ceiling to the walls, and the only features breaking the monotony of brutal stone were a few rusted hooks for chains or manacles to be attached to and a single hole in one rear corner he hoped was a latrine pit and not simply structural damage, for either way the pervasive stench of fetor and decay wafted more strongly from the tiny prison.

In another corner, opposite the latrine, another figure sat curled up breaking the monotony. She hugged her knees and buried her head in her arms, so that between her pale, grimy rags and pale, grimy skin it would be easy to mistake her for some misshapen statue were it not for the color that remained in the stringy mass of her crimson hair, matted over her like a spider-web of ruddy moss upon a stone.

“Marina…”

The woman didn’t move, and Illarion took a few steps into the room

“Marina, could you look at me?”

She shifted a little, raising her eyes just out of her defensive curl.

“Illarion?” she asked, voice almost a whisper

“Yeah.” He said. “It’s me. Miss me?”

She nodded.

“How long has it been?”

“A year, I think. I think they put me here a year ago, or nearly.”

He knelt down to her level and looked her in the eyes, giving a kind smile. “Well, that’s a year too long, and I’m sorry. I should have come sooner.”

“They said you weren’t real. Everyone… like they couldn’t see you.”

“Well,” Illarion replied, “They’ll see me now. I promise. But, first thing’s first, we’re getting you out of here.”

“The guards don’t let people leave.”

“They also don’t let people in, but here I am, aren’t I?”

Marina lifted her head fully. There was a dark bruise along one cheek and the side of her neck, and Illarion began to notice more spots on her wrists that weren’t simple smudges that would come off with water, soap, and effort. Still, she smiled, and Illarion couldn’t help but feel better.

“So, right… We had better get out of here sooner rather than later.” He turned to the door, then quickly back as she stood. “Clothes! I almost forgot.” He dug through his vast array of coat pickets until a folded bundle emerged. “This is from my sister. Have to look presentable out there, don’t we. So, um… I’ll give you a little privacy then-“

She kissed him on the lips, and for a moment Illarion thought he was going to be whisked off the plane again.

“Thank you.” She said, calmly and carefully, the disuse of such words in Di’if evident from a new accent to her speech. She took the folded dress, and smiled again.

“Right… well… I’ll be just outside the door. Keep watch. On the hall.”

Quickly, Illarion retreated into the hall and waited, hoping that the guard had been embarrassed and frightened enough to not fetch help. After a tense moment, Marina emerged, now looking more the part of the free woman than the asylum inmate, though not perfectly part of either world, besmirched and bruised but dressed in normal clothes and standing straight and tall.

“Ready?” she asked.

“Come on.” Illarion said, taking her hand, “Let’s get you home.”

Illarion looked over the room, and the pair of faces still staring in shock.

“Now that I have your attention and have absolutely convinced you that I’m real, it’s about time we had a talk about your daughter.”

“W-what?”

“You know, your daughter, Marina? The one you sent up to Di’if? Don’t pretend to have forgotten, I’ve had more than enough getting on my nerves today already.”

“What about her?”

“First, she’s not in Di’if any more. She’s waiting outside and as of today Di’if isn’t even an option.”

“But she-“

“Did not deserve that! Nothing human ever could! Did you even go to visit her, even once after you had them take her away? Did you see what those cells were like, and how they treat their patients? It’s worse than the stories! Did you even spare her a thought?”

“It was-“

“It’s over. If you or anyone else tries to put her back there or any place like it, I’ll see to it that you spend some time in one of those cells to know how it feels and then I’ll tear that wretched hive down stone by stone if I have to! Have I made myself perfectly clear?”

Marina’s father swallowed. “Yes, sir.”

Illarion took a deep breath. “Now,” he began calmly, “This should be happy shouldn’t it? Your daughter’s coming home, all better now! Hadn’t seen me since the day you locked her up, even. She’s been through a lot, more than you or I could ever really have nightmares about, and so when she comes in here I’m asking you, begging you, to try and make it a happy homecoming. I’m not going to order anyone around, but she’s your daughter, and if deep down you care about her like I think you really do, you’ll let her know, okay? Okay.”

He turned, and left the small house. Marina was waiting outside, cleaned up as much as could be expected.

“They’re ready for you.” Illarion said softly. “Are you ready?”

“Of course.” She said. “You’re sure you’re not going to stay.”

“Not this time.” Illarion said. “Maybe another time, but there’s so much to see and do! Are you sure you don’t want to go?”

“Not this time.” She said with a wry smile, and kissed him again. “Maybe another time.”

“I’ll try to come back every year.” He said, “I can’t promise I’ll make it exact, but I will visit.”

“And I’ll be here when you do. See you around.”

Marina went inside, and Illarion turned away from the small house. His sister walked up to him.

“Who knew my quirky little brother was really a big softie?” she asked teasingly.

“Oh, lay off it. This would have been a lot easier if I didn’t have to make an illusion of you up at Di’if.”

“The illusion was probably a better actor than I could have been.”

“So… I’m going to get going soon. How about you?”

“What?”

“Do you want to come? See the multiverse, brother and sister?”

“Sure.”

“Oh, well, alright, I knew… Wait, what?”

“I said sure.” She sighed, “It sounds like fun, and I’m not exactly doing anything important. Plus, I told Marina she could stay at the house if she wanted to live more on her own, and I sold all but one bed.”

“You’re serious.”

“Were you when you offered?”

“Well, yes, but-“

“Then I’ll go tell Marina she’ll have the place to herself, and say my goodbyes. You aren’t much for waiting, and the way you talk, there’s going to be a lot to see.”