Chapter Five: The Spell of Un-Being
Chorus:
Every city has its magicians, but Thebes has only one who can vanish without leaving. Tonight, the city holds its breath as The F*** It All prepares her greatest trick: to disappear so thoroughly that even memory can't keep her chained.
The moon hangs low, painting the rooftops in silver and shadow. The F*** It All slips through winding alleys, her cloak drawn tight, a satchel of chalk and herbs clutched to her chest. She moves with purpose, every step a silent rebellion.
She pauses at the edge of the old amphitheater, its stones worn by centuries of secrets. Here, voices linger long after the crowds have gone—perfect for a spell that needs echoes.
The F*** It All (softly):
If Thebes wants a ghost, I'll give them one.
Let them chase what they can't name.
She kneels and draws a circle with chalk, careful and precise. The air thickens, the night holding its tongue.
Echo appears from the shadows, anxious but determined.
Echo:
Are you sure about this?
Once you start, there's no going back.
The F*** It All:
That's the point.
If I can't be found, I can't be controlled.
Echo:
But what if you disappear for real?
What if I lose you?
The F*** It All:
You won't.
You're the only one who knows the code.
She presses a scrap of parchment into Echo's hand—symbols, half-words, a map of her un-being.
The F*** It All:
If you ever need me, speak this aloud.
Only you.
Echo nods, swallowing fear. The F*** It All lights a bundle of herbs, smoke curling in the moonlight.
The F*** It All (chanting):
Name unspoken, face unseen,
Let me slip between the in-between.
Memory falters, vision blurs,
I am the silence between the words.
The wind stirs. The city seems to shudder. For a moment, The F*** It All's form flickers—there, not there, a ripple in reality.
Chorus:
Magic in Thebes is a risky business.
It's not the spells that are dangerous,
But the truths they reveal.
In the palace, Laius wakes with a start, heart pounding. He feels the absence before he knows its shape.
Laius:
She's done something.
I can feel it—like a hole in the world.
He storms through the halls, barking orders.
Laius:
Find her!
Search every street, every shadow!
But the guards return empty-handed, bewildered.
Guard:
It's as if she never existed, sire.
Laius:
She exists.
She must.
Jocasta watches from the stairwell, grief and relief warring in her eyes.
Jocasta (to herself):
She's free—at least for now.
Back at the amphitheater, Echo sits beside the chalk circle, tracing the lines with trembling fingers.
Echo:
You're not gone.
You're just…elsewhere.
The F*** It All's voice echoes faintly, like wind through stone.
The F*** It All:
I'm everywhere and nowhere,
A rumor, a riddle, a name unclaimed.
Chorus:
The city wakes to confusion.
Vendors forget her face, children forget her story.
But in the cracks, in the corners,
A whisper remains.
Scene shift: Agent Gray, notebook in hand, wanders the streets.
Gray:
Assignment: Locate the anomaly.
Status: The anomaly refuses to be located.
He interviews citizens, each more confused than the last.
Merchant:
There was a girl, I think.
Or maybe a shadow?
Old Woman:
I remember a name on my tongue,
But it's slipped away.
Gray sighs, scribbling "Subject: Untraceable" in his notes.
Chorus:
Thebes is a city of stories,
But tonight, one story slips the net.
Night deepens. Echo returns to the palace, parchment hidden in her sleeve. She passes Laius in the corridor; he barely registers her, eyes wild with loss.
Echo (to herself):
You can't catch what you can't remember.
She slips into her room, heart pounding, and whispers the code under her breath—just to feel her sister near.
Chorus:
And so, The F*** It All becomes the city's secret,
A spell woven into stone and silence.
She is the ghost in the walls,
The crack in the mirror,
The freedom no king can claim.
The spell of un-being is cast.
The game has changed.
And Thebes will never be the same.