There is a kind of magic available to this world, although most do not know about it, and many of those who do know about it do not know how to access it. The man walking towards Davis’s house knew how to get to this magic. You simply reach into the space between spaces, and see what the other side has to offer you.
How do you do this? You reach between two objects at a distance proportional to the magic you would like to gain. Magic is not ‘done’ so much as magic is given. Magic is not an adjective. It is a noun. When your hand disappears into that space between spaces, sometimes it will come back out with nothing. Sometimes it will come back out with something. Sometimes it will not come back out at all, because magic is handed over by things on the other side. Sometimes those things do not want to share.
Sometimes they want your limbs. Once upon a time, there was a thriving black market on the other side of magician hands. When put in your soup, their fingernails were rumored to have what we will call a ‘potency effect’. The size of the magic that can be obtained is proportional to the space created for the passage of that magic by the hopeful magician. Most magicians begin small, and work up larger and larger immunities to the paltry miracles they are handed from the other realm. They make their spaces bigger and bigger, until eventually, either they are pulled into the other side (never to return), or something creeps out.
This is what happened to Francis Coffey, the person who was quickly approaching Davis’s house with a tall, pale demon gingerly in tow.
Luckily for Francis he was not pulled in. He had heard stories about such incidents, and when a warm, desperate hand grabbed onto his own, he startled seriously. But the thing whose hand grabbed his own didn’t want to tear Francis Coffey to pieces. He wanted to get out of hell. The creature, whose name was Liffick (tall and pale, following lazily behind Coffey), was a demon, and he was averse to the heat. He hated it. It made his skin itch. And hell was entirely too loud. He also had no interest in the torment business. Somewhere throughout time he had gotten a hold of a book from the human realm about a place called Alaska, and thought it would be more his speed; Cold weather & Fishing.
Q: Why were Francis Coffey and Liffick walking towards Davis’s house?
A: Because this story would not be as interesting without them.
Francis: Come on, Liffick. We’re going to be late if you keep trudging along like that.
Liffick: This is absurd, Francis. I didn’t pull myself out of hell just to be in some silly story.
Francis: But I think we should be in this story, Liffick. Remember too, it wasn’t by nothing that you pulled yourself out of hell; you used my hand.
Liffick: A technicality.
Francis: Come on, demon! Be in this story with me, and I’ll personally fly you to Alaska. You’ll enjoy it. Trust me. Being in stories is fun.
Liffick: Well, I suppose I don’t have much say in the matter, being that this joker keeps typing, and I keep walking. I’ll just hope that I’m destined to end up in Alaska.
Francis: What, you don’t believe in free will?
Liffick: What? Free will? Of course not! You’re telling me you do?
Francis: Absolutely. The story’s not completely written yet, see? We’re only on part 6. He doesn’t know totally where this is all going to end up yet either. Maybe if we actualize ourselves on these pages the way he feels we should, things’ll end up alright, and you’ll end up in Alaska.
Liffick: Well, I suppose that’s a point.
Francis: And besides, it’s the flexible reed that doesn’t snap in the current, right?
Liffick: True, but it doesn’t end up too far from its roots, either.
Francis: Look at it this way: If we upset him, and don’t work ourselves into the story right, he might get frustrated, and stop typing. What would that be like then? No one’s going to end up in Alaska that way!
Liffick: Well, I agree with you I guess, even though I don’t have much say in the matter. Okay then, looks like we’re going to be in this story then.
Francis: That’s the attitude!