Magic was a complicated and, more often than not, a messy sort of business. Even when people stuck to known and proven incantations, rituals, and so forth there was still the possibility for something to just go wrong. While apprenticing, Joy had witnessed a number of magical mishaps, even caused a few herself, but there were always senior magicians there to manage whatever trouble had been caused.

There were many times that Joy found herself thinking back to those days with fondness. Sure, there had been the ever present anxiety associated with her studies, as well as all the usual struggles of recently reaching adulthood, but there had also been the dozens of powerful wielders of magic who tutored, encouraged, and generally protected Joy and the other apprentices throughout their education. Now she was out, a full fledged magician in her own right, but with no one there to set things right should she make a mistake.

And she had made a mistake.

Joy tried to ignore the thingas it paced back and forth near the far wall. She had situated herself so that she could just see it out of the corner of her eye and make sure it didn’t do anything she didn’t want it to do, but at the same time she wanted to avoid looking at it as much as possible. For now she had it contained within a binding ring but she knew better than to assume that that would be enough to hold it for very long. To most other people it would have looked as though there were two Joy’s in the room, but Joy knew better than that. Any number of magical accidents could create monsters and demons or other abominations and every magical instinct inside her was screaming that the thing she’d created was unnatural.

She’d been pouring over her tomes of lore and magic craft all day to see if they held any information that would help her deal with the thing but to no avail. Banishments had failed, as had cleansings and disenchantments.

“You already know what you need to do,” the thing said and Joy shot it an angry glance.

“I told you not to speak to me!” she hissed.

The thing only shrugged.

“We both know what you’re going to have to do,” it said. “I would have already done it if you hadn’t bound me here.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not very likely to just take your word for what you really would or wouldn’t do if I freed you, am I?”

“Nope,” it replied, “just as I wouldn’t trust you either, had our circumstances been reversed.”

Joy turned back to her books but didn’t resume her reading. As much as she hated to admit it, the thing was right. Her books weren’t offering her any help and the binding wasn’t going to hold forever. She’d been lucky as it was to have been able to bind it the first time. She didn’t like to think about what would happen once the binding failed and it was free once again.

“Fine,” Joy said at last in a huff, slamming shut the most recent grimoire, and she began the incantation.

It was a simple spell, one that all the apprentices were taught early on in their studies. Upon setting out on her own, Joy had hoped never to need to use it again even though her mentors had all encouraged her not to hesitate to use it if needed.

The room brightened slightly while she chanted and concentrated on channeling the magic around her. Presently, a misty form began to take shape until, as her chanting reached its climax, it resolved into the solid form of an elderly woman. She was sitting in a soft arm chair and had a book in one hand and a goblet in the other. As Joy completed the spell, the woman looked up and then smiled.

“Mage Joy,” she said, “it’s so good to see you, how can I help?”

“High Mage Eurida,” Joy began as calmly as she could while simultaneously aware of the eager expression on the thingsface. “I have a bit of a problem here that I was hoping you could help me resolve.”

“Of course,” Eurida said, putting aside her book and goblet and rising up from her chair.

Eurida chanted softly to herself and Joy knew she was expanding her view of Joy’s surroundings, something Joy should have already done for her. Normally the spell only allowed the person being contacted to see the person who had reached out to them, not their surroundings.

“Sorry,” Joy said at once and chanted along side Eurida to hurry the process.

“There we are,” Eurida sighed in her calming manner that Joy had always appreciated. “Now then,” she went on as she saw and approached the thing in the binding ring, “This is interesting indeed.”

“Hello, High Mage Eurida,” the thing said with a resigned wave of its hand, “I’m in a bit of a problem here.”

“Yes indeed,” Eurida agreed. “But which one are you?”

“What do you mean?” Joy asked, and it worried her that Eurida was talking as though she knew the thing from somewhere. “Do you know what this is?”

“Hmm, I think so,” Eurida said but did not elaborate as she continued to study the thing. “Could you remove the binding?” she asked.

“I could,” Joy said but made it clear from her inflection that she did not want to do it.

“I was speaking to this one here,” Eurida said patiently.

The thing shot Joy a subtle smirk before answering Eurida.

“I can,” it said and Eurida nodded.

“Do it then, please,” Eurida told it.

“What?” Joy exclaimed. “No! We don’t know what it is yet!”

Eurida held up a hand and Joy fell silent.

“You have called me here and asked for my help,” Eurida chided her. “You will not question my instructions.”

Joy sank back and leaned against the far wall of her study and said no more. It was sickening to her just to look upon the thing but the idea of it being free was even worse. Still, Eurida was a high Mage and could easily bind it again should the need arise.

“Now then,” Eurida said to the thing, “I believe I asked you to release yourself from this binding.”

“Of course,” the thing said and it laid one of it’s fingers along the boundary and spoke the words of unbinding.

Joy felt her mouth drop open. There were two ways to undo a ring of binding. The first was to simply overpower it and break through. The other was generally only known to the one who had cast the binding in the first place, a sort of password, that would dissolve the binding instantly. It was this latter method that the thing had used to undo the binding.

“Interesting,” Eurida said and she began to walk around the thing and study it further, “though not terribly unexpected either.”

“Why wasn’t it unexpected?” Joy found herself asking. “I’m the only one who should have known that unbinding.”

“Precisely,” Eurida said, and then asked, “What was it exactly that you were attempting to do?”

“I was trying to produce an illusion I could command and manipulate beyond the initial casting.”

“And one that could interact with its surroundings?” Eurida asked knowingly.

“Yes,” Joy admitted.

“You often struggled with those,” Eurida observed. “I’m glad to see you’ve continued to study and experiment with them. You obviously didn’t produce an illusion, though. All the same, producing a duplicate of ones self isn’t entirely unheard of, though I understand it can be quite unsettling.”

“There’s more she’s not telling you,” the thing said to Eurida.

“Is that so?” Eurida asked, though she directed her question to Joy rather than the thing.

Joy shifted her weight uneasily. There was indeed more to the spell that she hadn’t mentioned.

“With how badly the spell has gone,” Joy began, “I figured the last part wouldn’t have any sort of effect.”

“Hmm, nice attempt at the lie,” Eurida said and then turned back to the thing, “I assume it’s something with potentially terrible consequences?”

“Yeah,” it replied and actually looked somewhat guilty. “The spell was modified with a recursion.”

“You made an untested spell that would replicate itself?” Eurida rounded on Joy and sounded upset for the first time.

“I just…I thought….” Joy stammered a bit but had no real defense. She really did know better but had been so sure this would work that she added it in at the last minute.

“And I assume the illusion you were attempting to create was of yourself?” Eurida asked.

“Of course,” Joy said.

“How often did you set the recursion for?”

“Once per day.”

A glint of understanding shimmered in Eurida’s face.

“So you wanted to create an illusion of yourself. One that could interact with the world around it, that you could control, and would be recreated every day.”

“Yes,” Joy murmured.

“Trying to avoid someone?” Eurida asked, “or just needing a break? Well, I have good news and I have bad news,” Eurida said but pressed on before Joy could state which one she wanted to hear first. “The good news is that I believe I know what you did wrong. You attempted to add corporeality to your illusion, rather than kinetic effect.”

Joy smacked the side of her head.

“Of course!” she exclaimed. “I’m always mixing those up.”

“Unfortunately,” Eurida resumed, “that’s where the good news ends I’m afraid.”

“How bad is the bad news?” Joy asked when Eurida, uncharacteristically, did not just continue on explaining to Joy what was going on.

“It’s quite bad, I’m afraid,” Eurida admitted. “You see, by giving your spell corporeality, it stopped functioning as an illusion. That’s why you couldn’t control it. But you also attempted to bind it to your mind, so it gained your memories, your intellect, and in essence became a duplicate of you.”

“So I’m just going to have a copy of myself walking around?” Joy knew she wasn’t following Eurida since so far things didn’t sound so bad.

“Well, if it was just an illusion, it would begin to fade away each day, and then the recursion you added would recast it,” Eurida put an arm around the thing Joy had created and led it over to stand beside Joy. “But since it’s not an illusion, it won’t fade, and since you cast the spell on yourself, and this is, for all intents and purposes also you, then each of you will spawn another copy tomorrow. So where there are two of you now, there will be four tomorrow.”

“And then eight the day after that,” the thing added.

“And so on,” Eurida said with a pained expression on her face.

“So, I’m going to need a bigger home is what you’re saying?” Joy said in an attempt at a joke.

“Sadly, there’s no amount of bigger homes that would be sufficient for all of your duplicates. In just ten days there will be over five hundred of you. In a month, the whole world would be drowning in your duplicates.”

“So, what do I do?” Joy asked. “I’ve tried dispelling it but—

“But you can’t dispell corporeal objects, only effects, and since I’m not sensing anything particularly magical about you I’m assuming you embedded the recursion into your essence, and so that cannot be undone either.”

“What if I just kill my duplicates?”

Both Eurida and the duplicate looked at Joy in shock.

“Would you really be willing to be murdered by yourself every day?”

“I would be the one killing the duplicate, not the other way around.”

“At this point, Joy,” Eurida explained, “there’s functionally no difference between you and any of your duplicates. At the moment they are created, they are identical to you. So really I can’t even tell which of you is the original and which one is the copy. Regardless, the duplicate each day would be just as much you as you are and would, undoubtedly, fight you to the death and I don’t know of many people who want mage duels every morning in their town.”

“Are you going to kill us?” Joy asked and feared what the answer might be.

“That is an option,” Eurida told them bluntly, “but not one I’m terribly fond of. For now, I think we can try to contain you within a pocket dimension. I can form it to be however you’d like, and of infinite size and resources so that you’ll never overpopulate it. One of you would need to be allowed out each day to inhabit reality or else the pocket dimension will evaporate, but the rest of you will need to remain within, and you’ll always need to go back inside before you multiply again so there’s no risk of any extra you’s getting out.”

“So I can still come and go as I please as long as I basically go back to the pocket dimension each night?” Joy asked. “That doesn’t sound so bad.”

“Certainly, because there are only two of you right now to decide between who gets to come out and who has to stay inside. But pretty soon, there will be hundreds of you, thousands, countless Joys all with your mind and memories who may very well want to get out and see the world they’ve left behind.”

The significance of it all finally hit her and both Joy and her duplicate slid down the wall to sit on the floor. She looked around at her study, at the unfinished experiments, the slightly untidy work stations she’d been proudly assembling, and knew she’d want to always be the one to come back here. All of the different Joys would want to come back here.

“All I wanted was to have more time to study,” she finally admitted as tears of anger and shame began to course down her face. “Send out my illusion to deal with the mundane tasks of daily life so I could be left alone but not be seen as a hermit or recluse.”

“I know,” Eurida said kindly and she sat down between the two Joys. “Sometimes, the pressure can be pretty great, and sadly you made some fairly serious mistakes because of it.”

Joy cried for a good while longer and the whole time Eurida just sat there and waited. There was no rush. They had several hours still before Joy and her duplicate would have to either be killed or else placed into the pocket dimension.

“I think it would be best to at least try out the pocket dimension,” Eurida said finally. “Perhaps you and all of the Joys will be able to find an acceptable means of determining who gets to come out each day. And in the mean time, there’s no reason why you shouldn’t be able to continue your studies and experiments.”

Slowly, Joy nodded and Eurida patted her on the knee.

“There we are, now up you get and we’ll get you both settled,” Eurida said, rising to her feet and offering both Joys a helping hand.

Joy accepted but her duplicate got up on her own. Eurida set about the task of channeling the complex magics necessary to create the pocket dimension. Joy had always been in awe of all the High Mages but Eurida had a certain, quiet power about the way she channeled that none of the others had. Before too long, a glowing orb materialized, floating in the air above Eurida’s outstretched hands. It had the look of a glass sphere at first, but as Eurida continued, the interior of the sphere began to fill with rolling mountains and sweeping plains. Oceans, rivers, and lakes were followed by towns and cities. People of all races were dotted throughout. None of it was real, of course, and Joy knew that, but it would look and feel real enough while inside. Even the people would have some aspects of personality and individuality. Eventually the sphere settled down into Eurida’s palms and she held it lightly before herself.

“Here we are, then,” she said wearily. “I’ve tried to give you as much variety to be getting started with, and as you need more room it will expand to meet your needs.”

“Thank you, high Mage Eurida,” Joy murmured.

“This can remain here,” Eurida assured them both, nodding towards the sphere, “just keep it someplace safe.”

Joy extended a shaking hand towards the sphere. All she had to do was touch it and she’d be taken into it. The fear that she’d never see the real world weighed heavily on her mind and she wished she could somehow escape this terrible fate, though how exactly she could do that she had no idea.

The other Joy similarly held out her hand but also stopped just short of the sphere’s surface.

“I know, you two,” Eurida sighed, “but it really…um…it really…

Eurida trailed off, her face suddenly turning slightly pale and concern began to grow in her expression.

“High Mage Eurida?” Joy asked. “Are you okay?”

The other Joy, on the other hand, sighed a breath of relief and pulled her hand back even as Eurida turned back into mist and vanished.

“Eurida!” Joy cried out and then turned towards her double. “What have you done?”

“What do you think?” she replied. “While you spent all that time worrying over how to fix this, I was figuring out what had gone wrong with the spell. I figured it out long before you contacted High Mage Eurida, and you were so engrossed in your reading that you never noticed me cast the spell, only properly this time.”

“But what good does that do you?” Joy demanded. “All you’d have is an illusion of yourself!”

“True,” the other Joy admitted, “and so while I was stuck in the binding ring I wore my illusion like a second skin. But once I was out, all I had to do was wait until you and High Mage Eurida were distracted. I slipped out while Eurida was forming the pocket dimension and left the illusion behind.”

Joy stared in disbelief and horror. Why hadn’t she thought of doing that? Why hadn’t she anticipated her double doing that? It didn’t really matter at this point, but it worried her all the same.

“I’ve also figured out a solution to the duplicating problem,” the other Joy continued.

“You have? How?” Joy asked, though it was not the thrill of excitement that made her so eager and she felt terror continue to build.

“You already suggested it,” the other joy said darkly. “All I have to do is destroy my double every day.”

“You heard what High Mage Eurida said,” Joy countered, “you’ll have to fight yourself to the death every day!”

“Only if I don’t take certain precautions,” the duplicate said. “No matter how perfect any copy is, it’s still just a copy. All I have to do is ward the room against any addition living beings. Then, the instance any duplicate is formed, the wards will be triggered and the duplicate gets incinerated.”

Joy stared at the illusory Joy before her, again shocked at the genius it displayed.

“If that would work, why didn’t high Mage Eurida suggest it?”

“She’s always been a pacifist,” the other Joy pointed out. “She would never have gone along with that kind of plan, let alone helped you do it.”

“And what did you do to her anyway?” Joy demanded as she was suddenly reminded of Eurida’s abrupt departure.

The other Joy’s expression had been one of tempered triumph but now it darkened and she looked as though she were ashamed.

“I had to kill her,” she admitted. “She knew about us and would certainly report us to the other High Mages if she had the chance. Once I was away from you both, I created a stepping portal to her tower. She’d never been very thorough with her defenses so it was fairly easy to sneak in.”

“You’re a monster!” Joy growled.

“I did what I had to do!” she defended herself. “Look, there’s just the two of us right now, and I’m willing to let you live. We can both carry on, just destroy our respective doubles each morning, and no one need be the wiser. We can even take turns being the one who has to go out and deal with everything else that we’d been wanting to get away from in the first place.”

It was a tempting offer. She didn’t really want to become a total hermit. She just wanted not to have to deal with everyone else so often. If it could just be her and her one double, perhaps that would be enough. But then again, how could she live with herself, knowing what the other Joy had done to Eurida? Could she trust the other Joy? Would the other Joy ever truly trust her?

“Fine,” Joy finally stated, her desire for life and freedom outweighing her feelings of guilt and misgivings.  

                                                                                        *

The other Joy, who was standing on a hill overlooking the town where their home lay, slowly released the magical energies she had channeled, letting it fade harmlessly back into the aether. She’d been ready to destroy the home, along with Joy inside it, had she not agreed to go along with her plan. She would have framed it as a magical accident that she’d barely escaped from. As it was, she was relieved that she wouldn’t have to kill herself. Destroying some freshly incarnated duplicate seemed so much easier to bear than to kill the Joy she’d seen and spoken to.

All the same, as she made her way back down into the town, she wondered how long this arrangement would last and if they would eventually turn on one another. Perhaps it would be easier to bear if they could find some way of erasing their memories regarding High Mage Eurida’s death. She knew that, for herself at least, she would appreciate having that weight taken from off her conscience.