Nothing? How about a mysteriously appearing group of four people, which include two individuals that are 8-feet tall?

Some of the nurses start screaming. The patients are ushered away. 

A woman rushes the closest one with a syringe.

"We have less than two minutes to treat you. Don't panic."

The nearest one dodges. "Wait, wait. What is that supposed to do?"

"Treat the fungus that's about to make your head explode and infect everyone within range, including me." 

She tries to stab him again. 

"Wait what?"

Topher reacts to the stabbing before he reacts to the answer. A blue-ish aura emanates from him and the air gets chillier. "Explode my head?!"

"The treatment will stop the fungus from spreading, overtaking your brain, and rupturing your skull, infecting the others around you with its spores."

She injects Topher, and moves on to Izakin.

When she pokes him with a needle there is an explosion of cold. The needle and it's contents freeze and shatter, she is going to get a frostbite in that hand.

"Topher!" Says the tall woman in the group, she takes a step back, but then the cold deters her.

"How difficult are you going to make this?"

"I don't want to," Sovie answers, "wait, our wards might cover if it's a non-magical fungus."

Izakin offers his arm anyway.

She injects Izakin.

"The cold might kill the fungus, but it might not. I advise your friend leaves our facility immediately, if he can find some uninhabited woods somewhere, and then we can discuss 'magic'."

Izakin gets out of the way.

"Does that have side-effects?"

And then there is something akin to a bubble around the new arrivals. "That should filter the air well-enough" Says someone in the group that was quiet muttering to himself. "How long do we have?"

"About two minutes. Does your magic prevent infection, resist mental effects, aid in healing? If you have anything like that, use it now." 

"Yes, yes. We are already under those kinds of wards. We were exploring old ruins and we protected ourselves against nearly anything. Spontaneous teleportation being the obvious exception."

"You spontaneously teleported here? You might not have been exposed to it at all, there wouldn't be any lose spores in this hallway."

Topher calmed himself down enough to make the cold less intense. What is happening to Izakin after he got the injection?

Who's Izakin?

The patient who accepted the injection loses consciousness.

Uh... Topher goes over there, and tries to calm himself down until he is warm enough to touch Izakin. That might take awhile.

"We did. We are doing an archeological dig and apparently attacked something. Where is here? You are speaking English, there are killer fungus around and you didn't react like magic was a familiar concept. Those traits don't match anywhere I know of."

"St. Stelhart's. We treat the fungus. This one is located in the United States of America. We call the continent North America and the planet Earth."

"I see, did we accidentally teleport into a secret research facility or something?"

Topher finally calms down enough that he can check on Izakin. Absently, he checks on Izakin's memories.

"Not secret, exactly. What's left of the US government is aware of us. Our patients aren't, because reminding them about the fungus would exacerbate it, which in turn triggers the drug. We don't like to wipe their memories more than necessary." 

Izakin's memories are still there. They just don't link up to the rest of his mind.

"Wiping their memories?!"

"What was left of the US government? When did that happen, the last time- wait what year is it? I would hate if it turn out we time traveled."

"2024. There really isn't much left of the US government. The fungus consumes grey matter by turning your thoughts to it. It invades your self-image, your identity. Our drug erases the information that makes up most of who they are, and what's left can go on."

Topher makes a very undignified and scared noise.

"The Earth we know is 2016 and I doubt sorcerers would've let it to... succumb like that. What the fuck."

"I've never heard of sorcery. Outside, most people who live outside the big cities, which are gradually recovering, form roving bands of criminal bandits."

"Okay, this is probably some fucked up alternate Earth, from the future. Pretty sure if something like that happened the sorcerers would pick up the pieces to rule."

"Were sorcerers a secret? I doubt we have anything you would call magic."

"Yes... there are multiple worlds, all connected by a single pocket universe called Elsewhere. Most sorcerers just stay in Elsewhere-"

"I am sorry, Temple. Is there a place that is certain to be safe from the fungus? We should go there and reinforce our wards."

"Nowhere is certain to be safe, if exposed people go there. If you're not exposed...Chicago should be fine."

"I meant a room. I wasn't even thinking in the long term."

"I should be able to reconstruct portals."

"Of course, my mistake. Accidental teleportation of unknown origin? Anyway, I can put you in a private room if you'd like that, while I handle my superiors."

"There is less accidental teleportation that people use to move between worlds and we can use to get back. Maybe bring sorcery reinforcements."

"And the room is mostly for anti-fungus warding."

She nods.

"Follow me, I'll get you set up."

She leads them to an empty lounge area, with couches, a CD player, and a deck of cards.

They follow her, carrying Izakin with them.

"This should work on a temporary basis. Apply your wards here. Keep yourselves busy. I'll be back in a day, at the most."

She starts to leave, then pauses.

"Are our days the same length?"

"Elan and Earth days have about the same length. Elsewhere is not a planet. I am not sure about the other worlds."

Well, she can confirm that a second is the same, which gives them the rest of their units.

Once that's settled, she goes to handle the bureaucracy. 

Temple starts composes various wards with the tools they have at hand, they manage to create something acceptable for the short term.

The hospital bustles with activity. 

At one point, they hear arguing outside the door. 

Well, Topher is still decompressing over what happend to Izakin and Temple is still checking things.

Sovie tries to overhear.

A man with a soft, gentle voice speaks angrily, insisting that any intruders should be treated as threats, until they can properly contain them.

Another voice urges caution.

Sovie backs away slowly and waits until Temple can interrupt his work and passes him a note explaining what she heard. The note is written in an ancient Elan language and Sovie is using her magic to allow Temple to read.

Temple reads the note. "I will improve the wards accordingly."

He starts fiddling with the wards so they will filter drugs in the air and grant more generalized protection.

The sounds of the argument fade, and they hear retreating footsteps.

Ezra is currently duplicating Izakin's memories to himself in case the drug has some weird effect. He tries very hard not to think about what would've happened if he had been drugged. How long are they left alone?

About four hours.

That is enough for Temple to have a draft to the improved ward, but not long enough to just implement it. What happens after four hours?

There's a knock at the door.

Sovie is the one to answer.

"Hello. I take it you're my new patients?"

Sovie looks down at him. "Uh, I don't remember being referred as patient."

Okay, just hearing the word "patient" causes the air around Ezra to chill considerably.

"Until you've been confirmed uninfected, you're my patients, or you're a threat to the survival of our species."

His cane taps against the door as he steps inside.

"That sounds reasonable. What is the problem with your eyes?"

"Temple!"

"Sorry, mom, I just wanted to know if we could fix it."

"If I remember correctly, they were gouged out by a rather frustrating man." 

...

"What does being your patient means exactly?"

"Either you convince me you don't need treatment, or you accept treatment."

"Convince you? I was under the impression the fungus was something testable."

"It's a bit difficult to examine a memetic hazard, but yes, we can test for it in certain cases." 

"I was also under the impression that it was..." shudder. "obvious when the person is infected."

"Usually, yes. I'm inclined to wonder how suddenly appearing individuals have managed not to get infected- or to delay the usual symptoms."

"Is this because you don't believe that we have magic and could've actually come from another universe?"

"That's a good summary, well done."

"Thank you? Is your suspicion that magic isn't real is such that you wouldn't accept if we tried to prove you wrong?"

"You can try. I don't really expect strong evidence, but I'm willing to accept it if you have any to offer."

"Assuming that you are skeptical of second witness accounts. We could give you the memories of someone in the scene."

Temple waves at Ezra.

Ezra tentatively reaches out for the doctor. "Do you mind if I touch you and transfer a memory?"

"Mentioning your ability to affect minds was probably not very tactically sound, so I suppose that lends some credence to your claims. I do have to say I mind."

"It's entirely reasonable to be afraid of people messing with your head. How much do you trust other people's accounts on magic? Because without magical effects and given the... uh, constraints of your lack of sight, it's hard to give you strong evidence unless you have time to prepare. Like, I can absorb heat in my vicinity, but without the visuals it isn't as impressive."

"We can heal your eyes but that would require touching too and I don't know if we- never mind, we can definitely heal one of your eyes and that should be enough evidence."

"I'm not entirely certain you should heal my eyes until you can guarantee the fungus is out of my body, which puts us in a bind. Can you absorb heat from my body? Even a minute difference in temperature should be noticeable for a human."

"Sure, it will still start from the surface and work it's way down but I can focus enough to make it... too unnatural. Any preferences where I should drain the heat from?"

"No strong preference. My arm, I suppose. Easily accessible."

He rolls up his sleeves.

Okay, the air around Ezra was already chiller than normal, now it drops suddenly and there is a band of the doctor's arm that is much colder than it's surroundings, but very precisely so.

"Now that's something. And you're still not displaying symptoms."

"Yes, Temple was working on reinforcing our wards."

"Well. Suppose I was grateful. What then?"

"Ideally we figure out a way to help each other."

"Does your ward kill the fungus or merely prevent it from infecting you? That would be the most important thing to test."

"It's currently both filtering and killing any airborne fungus inside the barrier. Killing it inside the human body is trickier, but should be doable."

"If you can get that to work, we'll have a lot to talk about. Until then, we could use those wards on heavily-trafficked parts of the building, unless you have limited uses."

"It uses lifeforce, we all have extra, but Izakin and Sovie can't cast as well as we do due to complicated reasons... We should comfortably do an area about the size of this room again today, but we can divide that into smaller sections."

"The cafeteria is too big, then. Try one of the main hallways? And don't explain yourselves to the patients, if you see any."

"Sure, the ward in it's current form lasts about a month, it can be made permanent, but it's more worthwhile to research something better."

"Of course. We appreciate the help. It's been...hectic, lately."

"We are glad to help."

"We really need to get in contact with our world before they come looking for us. I don't think the situation would be as destructive as it was with you, but there could be causalities."

"Is there anything I can do for that? Not force you to waste your power, I suppose?"

"I have been making do with what I have, but there are ingredients that would make casting easier. Mostly herbs."

"Are they the sort of thing that grow in the wild?"

"Some are. There are various schools of sorcery and various types of ingredients, I suggested herbs because they sounded easier to find or renew than inks infused with precious metals."

"Anything that a civilized society might keep in dried or powdered form will have to be picked fresh, instead. We don't have much in the way of civilization. Give me a list, and l'll try my best."

"Yeah, reasonable. I in fact have a list, I was taking notes while constructing the ward."

He takes it, then.

"I think the main area of focus should be the hallway leading to this room, then. Build outward, eventually ward the whole building."

Temple nods, then remembering the blindness. "We could get other people to contribute with their lifeforce... animals and plants also work but are harder to use."

"The other patients will be willing to contribute, if it will help cure them."

"In that case can we tell them about magic?"

"I would prefer to be discreet, but yes, you can tell those who will actually contribute."

Nod nod. "We will keep on working and then enlist their help as necessary."

"Excuse me, but our friend did receive the treatment. What should expect as a consequence of that? How reversible it is?"

"Not very reversible. Now that we have alternatives, we can devote research into that; if your magic can come up with a solution, that might be faster."

The air gets chillier.

"I can tell you with absolute certainty that Ezra is going to dedicate himself to fix. Also, Ezra, calm down."

He certainly doesn't comment on Ezra's embarrassing lack of self-control.

"It's admirable how dedicated you are to your friend's well-being, but he is, at least, safe. His condition won't worsen unless you try to jog his memory without reversing the treatment."

Saddly, if the doctor doesn't share his thoughts, then Ezra can't comment how only someone completely insane would consider this safe.

"It's a phobia," Sovia whispers softly.

"Well, don't worry we will manage to be productive."

"Should I leave things in your hands, or supervise?"

"Leave to our things, we wouldn't mind supervision, but I don't think there is that much to supervise."

"Alright, good luck."

Then they're alone, of course. 

And they continue researching, presumably they eventually will receive food and optimally something to sleep on.

Food is brought to them eventually, by a rather terrified-looking nurse. 

She also has blankets, but not pillows. 

Does the nurse share the reasons for her terrified looks?

She doesn't talk to them unless they approach her.

...Sovie, won't impose on her. They are in a lounge area and can improvise pillows out of cushions.

And Ezra is going to fall asleep very soon because he has done a lot of wakefulness-based magic today.

Temple will work on the spell until he gets too tired to be productive. For fun, he crafts as spell for cleaning fabric and another to make cushions softer.

And the next morning, there's a knock at their door.

To which they answer promptly.

"Did you all sleep well?"

"Unannounced guests can't complain of the accommodations. Granted, the main issue is the death plague going on."

"A sensible priority. The most obvious avenue for improvement is seeing if you can stop the spread of the fungus permanently. If it can't spread, we can continue administering the treatment as needed, but then tell people about their lives."  

Nod. "I made a lot of progress in creating something that destroys the fungus, but soon enough I am going to need either a sample or someone infected to be sure."

"You have one. What should I do?"

"I am going to set a few things up to diagnose the fungus so I can tell my magic what it is and see how to go about exterminating and ward against it."

Temple sets things up and asks her to lay down.

She's very pliable. Quite cooperative, really. She trusts the program.

That is great. Now, what sort of thing are we dealing with here? Is it an actual fungus? Does it happen to have any magical properties?

No magic here. Just a fungus that spreads in the brain in reaction to thoughts about it. The treatment has trapped the fungus in her right frontal lobe; with enough time, it will wither and die there.

Fascinating, in the most horrible way possible.

Temple takes copious notes and then says. "Okay, this should be treatable with my magic. I am going to devise a spell to counter it. Do you have anyone that can be used as a test subject for something more dangerous than being magically stared at?"

"We have a patient who- she'll volunteer,  even after you explain the risks. Should I bring her here?"

"Maybe not here. This isn't complicated from a magical standpoint, but I want to be thorough regardless and if possible put her behind a separate ward in case something goes wrong."

"Do wards need walls and doors to demarcate their boundaries?"

"No, but it's an extra layer, accidents happen, someone could trip or something and fall through."

"Alright. I think this should wait until your exterior ward can expand to cover this floor, and then we'll move her into one of these rooms, to which you can apply the interior ward. How long would that process take?"

"I think... We can get it can get as early as tomorrow evening. Probably early than that, but I wouldn't feel as confident."

"We've been handling it for this long, we can wait." 

"And is much better to get it done right." He agrees seriously.

"You can meet some of the more stable patients, if you like. Try not to mess with their heads until we're sure it works."

"I wouldn't dream of causing them any distress... Since I would be busy, I could send my mom or brother," Temple waves at Sovie and Ezra, "to talk to them for the explanatory bits?"

"I think that would be lovely. They can both come."

"Sure thing. I mean, it would be better if they come to us, since we are restricted to our wards."

"I can have them stop by whenever you can be interrupted. Just use this to contact me."

She hands him a pager. 

"Thank you, we will contact you once we are ready."

She waves, and exits quietly.

Meanwhile Izakin is experiencing the joys of not remembering who he is and where he is from. But he thrusts the others fairly well and remembers enough sorcery that he is helping Temple out.

Ezra will quietly freak out (well, some cold might happen), but eventually he calms down.

And once they feel confident enough they can explain things, they page Ms. Morrell so she can send patients.

She comes by within ten minutes, leading a young man behind her.

"Hello. All of you, this is Lucrum. I'll be leaving him in your care. Please, be careful."

She steps back outside, leaving them with him.

He waves.

"Hello, Lucrum. How much about us have you been told?"

"A little bit. You're doctors, except with magic instead of medicine."

"Not quite. We are sorcerers and magic can do healing. Which includes things like curing infections. My half-brother developed a spell that is likely to clean someone's from the fungus, but we need volunteers."

"You need a test subject. What could go wrong?"

"Volunteers," Ezra starts ticking off his fingers, "In order of the more to the least likely: the most obvious thing is that it could fail and then you would suffer the normal fatal effects from the infection," the ticks another finger, "or could be something less than that, from brain damage to nothing at all," third finger, "or the fungus could have some trait or adaptation that kicks in once a this thorough disinfection is attempted. I trust Temple's skills as a sorcerer so I doubt any problem will arise from his lack of sorcery knowledge, or even regular biological knowledge, but the fungus is an entirely new thing."

"If it does start to kill me, can you kill me first?"

...

"I will do it, but would you mind me telling me why?"

"Forgetting is different, I'm still me. If it takes over-and then I die anyway, if it goes wrong- then I'll be gone anyway. I don't want that."

"It is probably more merciful that way."

Nod.

"What do I have to do?"

"Not a lot, except stand still while we cast the spell and them stay under observation for 24 hours."

Nod. 

"Tell me before you start casting?"

"Sure, but I think one of the doctors wanted us to pick some other people before we go to a live test. Some of the set up can be re-used between casting."

"How are you picking people?"

"They are mostly sending them our way and we are confirming that the person knows what is going on and what could happen."

"Oh. Should I go?"

"Yes, please. Thank you for your time." Polite smile.

He goes.

Next patient.

She walks in, trembling only slightly.

Well, that is not very reassuring. "Hello, I'm Sovie. How much have you been told?"

"Can you cure me?"

"Yes, my stepson is working on a cure."

"What do I have to do."

"At this stage we are just searching for volunteers and giving them some information so they can have a minimal capacity to give consent to the experiment. Aside from that, when the time is ready you will need to stand still for the casting and then wait in observation so we can detect any ill effects. I believe in my stepson's capabilities. But you still should be warned that if something goes wrong it might kill you or damage you permanently."

"I got that, thanks. Tell me when you're ready to start?"

"We will. Thank you for your cooperation."

Are there any other volunteers?

There's one more.

He's quiet. He mostly just stares at them for a minute before saying, "Thank you."

He leaves.

Alright then. No one else? Okay.

Temple finishes the spell design soon enough.

The other patients are less desparate, or more terrified of strange visitors. 

They might want to tell someone they're done; no need to make those poor kids wait.

Normally they wouldn't accept the last one back, but they can do the other two first.

They set everything up. They call the patients back.

Separately, or together?

The spellcasting proper is going to be done separetely, but it isn't going to take too long so they can wait outside the designated area.

"I can go first, if you want."

"No, I think I can handle it."

"Alright, sit over there inside that circle."

Presuming compliance, Temple starts the casting process. It is going to take a few minutes and he needs the uttermost concentration.

She sits, and doesn't break his concentration.

And eventually, there is some flash show of lights and...

"...I think it worked."

"...I- I think we need to ask one of the doctors. I'm not remembering by myself. I might need triggers, or something, cues."

Temple nods solemnly. "The treatment needs to wear off first, but now you can remember safely and without fear."

"I could help you some," Ezra offers, "but I'd need to look at your memories to bring them to the surface."

"The treatment?"

"He means the non-magical treatment."

"Why would the treatment prevent me from remembering."

"The infection is affected by your memories," Ezra explains, "remembering would've killed your body permanently. They didn't have a way to remove it before."

Nod.

"So now I can remember? No risk?"

"We are going to keep you under observation, but yes. No risk."

She takes a seat, then.

Their other patient waits outside.

Ezra observes the poor girl.

Temple spellcasts again.

His patient waits.

Their other patient bursts through the door.

Temple doesn't accidentally say "what" because he trained not to, but his ability to focus is not infinite and stutters and forgets the next word and...

The air starts swirling with a blue-ish energy with a life of his own. Temple doubles over in agony.

"Are you okay?"

He stands between Temple and the intruder.

"Stay away from him until we know what's going on."

He looks at Ezra questioningly.

He doesn't move.

Ezra ignores the idiot that interrupted the ritual. "Temple, can you hear me? Can you contain it?"

"No."

"What can-"

"Nothing. I am holding it down, but- ask for the treatment."

The air gets colder around Ezra.

"It's our only chance to survive at all."

Ezra freezes metaphorically and with a valiant effort at literally.

"Sovie!"

Sovie shouts for help.

Armed and armored guards burst in.

One of them rushes to Sovie with a syringe, and asks, "Are you sure?"

Another to Temple: "You understand what will happen?"

Sovie looks at Temple, she knows he is holding the magic effect with his own metamagic gift.

He might be losing years of his life every second.

"Yes. Just do it."

"Yes. Do it, the three patients should be safe, but you should get all of us..." Temple gasps for air and grits his teeth. He gives Ezra a look that conveys for fucks sake just take the treatment.

Sovie and Temple are injected, and a guard approaches Ezra.

"You agree?"

Ezra... knows what he is supposed to, he knows that this is the better alternative.

But he is also so afraid. Absolutely afraid.

Unthinkingly his frost-covered reach out -

He wakes up in a hospital room.

It looks like hospital rooms usually do. 

He blinks and stands up. He looks at his surroundings and doesn't know what to do nor how he got in here.

....The room was already chilly, but it gets colder. He looks at his hands and is surprised they're aren't the pale blue.

He takes a few moments to calm down, because he knows this cold isn't something he can just announce to the world.

Can he leave the room?

It's a hospital room, he's probably there for a reason.

There's a knock at the door. 

He pauses for a second and then opens it.

"Hello, January. How are you feeling?"

January is his name, of course. It's the only thing familiar about this.

"I-I don't know. What happened?"

"You were victim of a recent outbreak. The disease has erased portions of your memory."

"Is it permanent?" January asks immediately, before clamping down hard on the part of his... self that tries to freeze the room."

"Unfortunately, yes. There may be some details you can remember- so far, other patients have mostly remembered the parts of their life that they considered most generic. You understand how hospitals work, for example, and may remember being in one many times before- but you may not remember any particularly emotional experiences you have had in hospitals."

January is quiet, mostly because it is taking all of his focus to not flash freeze everything in a ten feet radius.

"Patients can live fulfilling lives after treatment. Most of our staff are former patients."

New lives. Because your patients are gone.

"What happened?"

"You and a few other visitors got too close to one of our patients."

"Ok.... I am sorry." He says albeit the apology is almost a question. "What is next?"

"The hope is that you can all meet each other without triggering a relapse. Do you think you're ready?"

"How do I know if I am ready?"

"Can you resist trying to think about anything that feels familiar?"

Well, if they are going to be taken anyway. "Yes."

"I think we're ready, then. Call me Moses."

"Yes... Mr. Moses."  January waits until Moses leads the way.

He leads him to another room.

Another woman is standing there, with a few other people in the room.

These must be the other new patients.

"Try not to remember each other. You need to learn to learn new things in the general sense; procedures, not experiences. We call this 'learning outside yourself'."

Nod. He looks around.

There's the woman with a clipboard and what he still recognizes as appropriate doctor attire.

There are several patients there, dressed more casually. 

One of them acknowledges his arrival with a nod.

The other mostly looks suspicious.  

The doctor with the clipboard is a bit unnerving. January picks the least threatening looking patient and goes sit with them.

"Hi, I'm January."

"Hi. I'm Fratres. That's Red, and Brigadier. Are you a new patient?"

Nod. "How long have you been here?"

"A couple of weeks."

One of the others stands up, pacing.

"What is it like?"

"Well, I don't really remember it. I relapsed."

January freezes (metaphorically) and slightly chills (literally). "How far back is your last memory?"

"Earlier today. Something happened."

"Uh, me too. Which I think we shouldn't try to remember? I am not sure what is our safety margin."

"Patients can learn facts about their previous lives. I think if you ask, and it's safe to know, they'll tell you."

"How do they know it's safe?"

"They're doctors. They have our files, so they can make sure not to trigger us."

But how do they know that? He doesn't say.

"Okay. ...We can't talk about the past and I am a bit stuck on what to talk."

"We can talk about what we want to do. You should still like some of the same things, just focus on what you want to do when you get out."

He wants to... do something about the memory loss. Somehow. It feels like there is something that could be done.

"I am not sure of that yet. Do you have any ideas?"

"I'm going to become one of the doctors."

"Why?"

"There are still a lot of patients who need help."

"Yeah, I guess." It's a way of dying, but more productively so.

"I think it would be nice, helping people."

January nods, he appears a bit unsettled.

"How are you feeling, January?"

"Uh? I am alright."

"Do you have an idea of what you want to happen next?"

"I am not sure yet."

"Do you want to go back to your room?" 

"I don't know?" Pause. "If you think that is safer, than yes."

"What patients need to do is learn new instincts. You need to know what's safe for patients to do. Patients follow a certain protocol."

Tentative nod.

"Patients should go to their rooms now, so that the recent arrivals have a chance to adjust."

"Oh, sorry, I was confused."

January goes to his room.

As do his new friends. Apparently, they'll be left to their own devices. 

Brigadier examines the board placed in his room. 

He begins to play.

Infrared writes inside one of her books.

They remember.

Fratres remember a forest with very tall trees and large animals. He remembers a city in the distance and he remembers that he should run away from it. Looking up to the sky he can see the stars going out one by one.

Brigadier remembers he should move his white knight to- no, wait, both white knights are out already. Then his next movements should be- no the queen is not there. She is- she is there. Then Brigadier blinks and he experiences an odd sense of double-vision. Two chessboards. One cheat and made of plastic. Another fancier and made of hardwood.

Infrared remembers drowning, waters filling her longs and her legs kicking in pointless panic. She needs air. She needs air. She needs air.

Does the double vision continue if he looks away? 

Yeah, the double vision totally looks away, the park around him and his furniture looks crystal clear. The weather is great.

His brother comes over running. "Hey, how is the game going?"

He should probably be calling a doctor.

"I'll win in five moves." 

"Huh, why are you even playing it in here? You could do that back home."

But back home no one wants to play it. Feels like the answer

"No one wants to play it back home."

"Well, playing with magic is more fun, isn't it?"

"Maybe if you have no imagination."

Orpheus stops for a moment. He isn't standing still rather he is still. Then he says. "I don't get tired of magic that easily," he snaps his fingers and sparkles fly out.

Is the next line obvious?

Nope. Orpheus is just standing there, not quite still as before, but not really doing anything, not even blinking.

Okay.

He shuts his eyes and stops breathing.

He can feel their fear like a tangible thing reeking from their bodies.

He returns. 

"What is this?"

The empty room (with no sign to ever been part of a park) doesn't answer.

The chess pieces are scattered across the floor.

He picks up the pieces.

She writes, and remembers.

An suddenly it is like the air is punched out of air and her skin feels wet and cold.

She startles, looking around. 

Her room is fine, except it is now filled with dark murky waters, which don't appear to affect anything besides visibility.

More hallucinations. Great.

She makes a swimming motion with her arms.

It doesn't do anything, her skin and her eyes tell her she is underwater, but her muscles meet no resistance, if she pays attention the cloth in her bed isn't moving as if floating underwater.

She stands up, circling the room.

The water... drains away. Or something very similar to that.

Here is dad, so worried. "I just heard what happened. Are you okay? Did your brother gave you breath?"

"He did. I'm fine"

A symptom? She should call one of the doctors.

Dad takes her hand and she feels... something, her lack of breath goes away. "Better?"

"Thank you?" 

It sounds vaguely annoyed and ungrateful.

She tries to touch his chest. 

He feels real and solid.

"You're welcome my child."

Why is the hallucination hugging her. 

"Nurse? Doctor? Someone!"

"Are you feeling alright? Do you still have water on your lungs?"

"You're not real, I just need a doctor. Not real, not real, not real..."

"Please, calm down, dear. I am going to get help."

He then... duplicates himself and the copy walks away, not to the direction to the door, but towards the wall, she can see it getting distant despite the room not being that long.

"Who are you?"

"Your dad, my son."

She closes her eyes and holds very still.

There is a sudden silence.

She opens her eyes, shivering.

There is no one in there. Her room looks completely normal.

Yup. She goes looking for the nearest doctor.

There's a knock at January's door.

He answers the door.

"How are you settling in?"

"Okay? I think..."

"I'm afraid we've worked ourselves into a bit of a predicament. You have magic, but you can't remember that."

"Yes..."

"So I won't ask you to. I'm your doctor, and I don't want you to hurt yourself in your confusion. Instead, I'd like you to try to use it."

"Okay."

The air sure gets very chill really fast.

"How charming. It still seems to be under your control...do you think you could use it to heal?"

"Yes? Do you want me to heal your eyes? I am not sure about the fungus."

"Try both. The results should be enlightening."

"Sure, do you mind to lay down a bit, while I do it?"

"Of course not. Go ahead. Will your bed do?"

"Sure thing."

And assuming the doctor cooperates. He starts inspecting. "I am not good enough at this to be sure that I won't make the fungus worse," he says after a few minutes, "I think I can fix at least one of your eyes though. It might feel weird when the nerve ends start to grow."