A Practical Guide to Sorcery (Book 3)

Chapter 96 - Bini Frogs & Existential Crisis (Part 2)

A quick peek under the stalls showed they were all empty of feet, so she had her existential crisis in front of the mirror over the sinks, which pumped in fresh water at will, just another example of the wonders of modern invention.

'How much of someone's personality comes from their brain, and how much from their hormones?'

The question sent cold spider legs crawling down her back, and she stared into her own reflected eyes, trying to take comfort in the fact that those, at least, were the same in both of her bodies. 'Are my hormones the same as Sebastien and as Siobhan?' That seemed impossible, simply because of the distinction in sex. Her brain itself might not even be the same. After all, everything else was different. 'But injuries transfer over. And my blood is traceable in either form. So what does that mean?'

Unlike the frogs, she was not swapping between sexes—between different expressions of her own body. Which would have been mind-bending enough on its own. No, she was shifting into a different body entirely. 'How much needs to change before I'm someone else? Even my name is different.'

She realized she was panting and leaned over to splash some cold water on her face. 'Have I been feeling differently, thinking differently?' She hadn't noticed and wasn't sure she could tell. After all, she was not an objective, outside observer.

For a moment, the stream of water sounded like a calm, insistent humming, and she jerked her head back, staring at it in alarm. She turned the faucet off, then snapped her fingers next to her ears to disrupt the phantom memory of sound, taking comfort in the agitated pounding of her heart.

Discovering the truth of her fears would take more than just awareness and introspection. Understanding the effects of such magic would require extensive study, hundreds of subjects monitored by objective outside agents as they underwent the same transition she had. But this, of course, was impossible for more than one reason.

She had continually reassured herself that she was the same person, that a change of bodies meant nothing about who she was on the inside, and in fact had felt bizarrely comfortable in either body, after getting over the initial shock. That comfort might be a sign to the negative, however, since it could have been an effect of the spell itself, meant to mitigate the chance of a mental breakdown.

She wiped her frigid, wet hands over the back of her neck, taking a perverse thrill in the shiver that wracked her body. Water dripped from her blonde lashes. 'My consciousness is continuous between both forms. There's no interruption. My memories are the same. It's not as if I'm temporarily killing and later resurrecting either version of myself each time I switch. Even if the transformation is affecting my personality, I still consider me to be "myself" under the effects of alcohol or other substances. Why can't this be the same? My name might change, and my body, but there is something deeper than that, something that makes me me, which is constant.' The words felt right, but still, she was unsure.

'There is no evidence of a soul,' she admitted to herself. 'And without that, what am I except for the consciousness created by my body? The consciousness which is dependent upon my body.' When the Aberrant had taken control of her body, forcing her to calm, its effect had infected more than just her physical flesh. Her mind had begun to lose its grip, too. And what was she, if not her mind? 'If I do not run my own mind, what runs it? If I don't control my own thoughts, my own decisions, my own feelings, where is the barrier between "me" and "other?" Will I even notice if I cease to be myself?'

Though she had been trying not to think of it, blood and fire flashed across her mind's eye. Squeezing her eyes closed, she pressed a knuckle into her temple until it hurt—until it felt like she would leave a bruise—but the pain pushed the memory away.