Strange Perceptions by Chuck Heintzelman

potion wouldn’t you have went into his body?” the king asked.
    “No,” I said. “The potion softens the spirit which travels to body closest to the heavens. We were bound with the golden cord, enabling the transfer, but my body was above his on the platform.”
    As I talked, the guards loosened their grip on me. Slowly, my hands came toward each other, fingers contorted in a strange gesture. Ealdred was making a hand incantation, subtly so as to go unnoticed.
    The moment my hands touched a white light spread out, hitting the king and two guards. Ealdred twisted my body around and the light hit the remaining guard before disappearing. The king and his guards fell down, instantly asleep.
    “Stupid boy,” Ealdred said. “Did you really think you could outsmart me? What a mess you have caused.”
    I fought for control, but Ealdred was expecting it and resisted. I backed off trying to control my whole body and instead attempted to bring my hands together as he had. I succeeded and focused the light upon myself.
    Blackness surrounded me. I don’t remember hitting the floor.

    I awoke strapped in a chair, both arms securely fastened, no way to touch my hands together. I was in the laboratory. Rain pattered on the sky window.
    A guard stood either side of me. The king came into the laboratory followed by a bald man.
    “You will instruct Lundren,” the king said. “He will make a batch of truth serum and the potions for the transfer ceremony.”
    “As you wish, sire.” Ealdred replied.
    “Don’t think of tricking me.” The king stormed out.
    Ealdred gave the bald man instructions for creating the potions. He did it correctly, but slightly increased the amount of milkweed in the potion intended for me. This change would result in the background mind being more subdued than normal. It was a good thing for Gytha if Ealdred had less control, but why did he do it?

    The next morning they took me to the balcony above the courtyard again. Guards held each of my arms, not allowing my hands to touch. The platforms were set up for the transfer ceremony. Gytha was already there. She wore a beautiful green gown—Cleland’s choice I’m sure. The crowd below seemed even larger than the crowd at the first transfer ceremony. All eyes were upon me and not a single person smiled.
    I would not survive the transfer. Like the wizards before Ealdred, I would fade into the background, only my knowledge would remain. At least Ealdred’s crime would be set right.
    I tried speaking and to my surprise Ealdred allowed me. “Gytha, please take care of my family.”
    She nodded, tears flowing from her eyes.
    Just before the transfer potions were given to Gytha and me, I began convulsing. I coughed and sputtered and fell forward, limp in the guards’ arms. Ealdred controlled my body and was having some sort of fit.
    “Sire,” Ealdred gasped. “He has switched the potions again.”
    The crowd gasped.
    What? The potions weren’t switched. Ealdred was trying to trick the king and control Gytha’s body.
    “I was afraid this would happen,” the king said.
    Desperately, I tried to speak, to tell the king this was all a ruse, a final attempt of Ealdred’s to keep control. I couldn’t. Ealdred was too strong.
    Lundren, the bald man, approached holding a cup.
    “Drink,” the king said.
    “But,” Ealdred said, “truth serum will interfere with the transfer potion.”
    The king spoke in a booming voice. “We will postpone the ceremony if needed.”
    The truth potion wouldn’t interfere, but I was unable to tell the king.
    Lundren held the cup to my lips and my body swallowed the serum in large gulps.
    The king walked close to me. “Tell me the truth. Are the transfer potions switched?”
    Ealdred didn’t answer, I did. “No.”
    “Will the truth potion interfere with the ceremony?”
    “No,” I said.
    “Continue,” the king said and walked back beside the queen.
    The same attendant from the previous ceremony handed Gytha a