Black Saturday

III

'You see, chaosborns are a breed of Elves, Men, and Faerie folk who naturally possess something you'd dub 'electrotelekinesis.'' Rahal pointed at a bean bag and lifted it with ease without any verbal incantation or need for a wand. When she brought her fingers together, the bean bag convulsed and spit off electrical bolts. After a second, Rahal let it fall to the ground. One last spark bounced off. 'Beautiful. We get stronger the more electricity that flows through us, and we all love electrical storms— they bring with them a sort of high that permeates the air.'

'That's...' Xenophilius began.

Luna finished, 'Amazing...!' Both of their mouths had dropped.

'Oi! It goes far beyond amazing. Such magic makes us chaosborns a right force to be reckoned with. You could say that we're the 'shock troopers' of the magickal world of Navia.' Rahal then let out a massive laugh. When the Lovegoods began to chuckle, Rahal stopped abruptly. 'But!' They both flinched. 'With this great power comes many curses. No one can agree on which one's the worst because, despite our relative conformity, we're all still different people. Some say that it's our antisocial personalities that makes being a chaosborn intolerable. Despite our power— or perhaps because of it— we're segregated from polite society. We're simply far too rowdy and chaotic of people— hence why we're called chaosborns. I 'aven't met a chaosborn who isn't a raging anarchist.

'But the one I disagree with the most is our need to be electrically powered.'

Rahal grabbed her sleeve and bit her lip. Her eyes shut and her brow furrowed. Finally, after several seconds, she pulled up her left arm's sleeve to reveal a cybernetic arm.

'What is that thing?'

'This, Senior Lovegood, is a robotic arm. Far beyond your world's years. As I was telling Dauphine Lovegood back on the Hogwarts Express, I can hop between worlds, and one of these worlds is an Earth that is currently 50 years hence your time. It is, what, 1995? Going on 1996? Yes, I suppose that would place Seventh Earth's Gregorian calendar year at 2046.'

'How did you lose your arm?' Luna asked, her tone drenched in sympathetic concern.

'I cut it off.'

'You what?!'

'I cut it off. Don't make me repeat myself again.'

'Why would you do that?'

'Well why not? You'll see what's there in due time. After all, I already told you that chaosborns have awful personalities. With all that extra electricity flowing through our brains, we're rash and impulsive. Everything you feel, we feel, supercharged. That includes things like pain— and pleasure. And that is why I say I disagree with other chaosborn's hatred of being confined to electricity-rich areas. Perhaps that's why I also disagree with your world's disagreement over whether or not electrical appliances are magical.'

'I don't see how that could ever justify... this!'

'And that, O' my dear Luna, is because you're not a chaosborn. You've never had to live with that so-called curse of needing your electrical fix. This arm, it requires added electricity all its own. This is.... Well, this is like a perpetual orgasm, pardon the language. That's why I love Seventh Earth so much. Ninth Earth is alright, except for the wizardy bits, ironically enough.'

'You say this is... 'Ninth Earth'? Are there eight others?'

Rahal shook her head. 'A lot more than eight. But I've only ever been to three of these Earths— this one, Seventh Earth, and Navia. Of course, that's because we can see the other Earths from a distance. I wouldn't want to step foot on Eighth Earth, that's for sure.'