Ink Magic

My name is Loraine, but you can call me Rain. No one else does, but that's because I never introduce myself. I prefer to live in anonymity, to wait behind corners and listen, to sit at a park bench no one uses and watch. That's how I've learned everything.

Maybe not everything, not all the secrets of the universe, but enough to connect far more dots than most other travelers can see. “Travelers” might not be the right word, but I like it because it avoids the mystic. A lot of travelers call themselves “sensitives” because they can sense the layer of magic that pulled us all through our very first portal and countless more after that.

I don't think it's magic. After all, magic is just science no one has yet explained. While I won't be the one to explain it, I'm beginning to see how it all works—or at least how the portals weave together a network of worlds not unlike the crisscross pattern of a web that might appear random if you only saw a few connections.

I've seen thousands. I've been to worlds many only consider rumor and others many wouldn't believe existed even if I bothered to describe them in painstaking detail. I won't.

I'll keep it all to myself and continue to watch, to see what others miss, and document what I find for my own enlightenment.

I'll continue to travel the portalverse till the day I die.