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Sebastian stared into his cereal, waiting for the chocolate flavour to seep into the milk. A slightly childish habit, maybe, but who was going to stop him? He was a married man, and his beloved spouse was busy with the various farm chores that occupied their mornings.
He knew better than to try and help them out. He had tried before, but after he had somehow managed to knock over a milking machine, they had laughed and suggested that he leave the farm’s maintenance to them. After all, as they were quick to remind him- they hadn’t exactly married him with the expectation that he would be an effective farmhand. He was a basement-dwelling computer programmer, for Yoba’s sake.
Still, that didn’t mean he couldn’t find some way to contribute. Leaving his breakfast on the table, he started wandering through the house, searching for anything in need of attention. The kitchen was fine, the hallways were fine, the nursery… actually, maybe he wouldn’t go in there. Though the topic of children had never been brought up between them, its very existence made him nervous. How was he supposed to raise a kid? Though he barely smoked anymore, he still wasn’t so sure that the town regarded him as a good influence on the youth.
Enough of that, he decided, shaking his head to rid himself of thoughts that would only send him into a useless spiral of anxiety. Returning to the living room, his eyes eventually came to rest on the roughly-carved wooden chest that sat in a corner. Countless times, he had seen his spouse rummage through that chest for some item they had previously dropped in, never seeming to be able to easily find it. Maybe he could organise it?
He reached for the heavy lid, huffing slightly as it opened. It was as he feared: the chest’s contents were an absolute mess. Most of it seemed to just be random scraps of wood and stone, but he spotted a few more valuable-looking resources among the debris. How could anyone live like this? Rather than bother trying to reach in, he decided it would be much quicker to just tip everything out at once, and organise it from there.
He jumped back just before everything hit the floor with a great clatter. What a mess… but at least he could do something about it. He started by taking all the wood and stone he could find, and dropping it into the chest first. After that, he took a closer look at what was left.
It wasn’t much better. Packets of seeds, batteries, bars of iron and copper, rings, fishing tackle… the list went on. But no matter what he found, there was a place for it, and the pile quickly diminished as he continued his work.
Finally, he was left with a few photographs, which he had kept out of the chest for fear of something damaging them. Maybe he could get Clint to make some nice frames for them, he thought as he knelt to pick one up.
There the two of them were, sitting together on the Stardrop Saloon’s couch. Judging by the nervousness of his smile, it must have been early in their relationship- though even back then, his partner had been endlessly confident, never truly caught off guard by anything he said or did.
It was a nice picture… but something about it bothered him. He searched its glossy surface, trying to find the problem- and then it hit him. It was his shirt. He couldn’t remember wearing that shirt a single time since meeting the new farmer.
Well, he wasn’t known for having the best memory. Maybe knowing the date would make it make more sense. He flipped the photograph over, reading the numbers scribbled on the back.
Then he read them again.
And again.
No matter how many times he read them, they didn’t change. Not only was the picture apparently from before the two of them were dating- it was from before they had even met. But how was that possible?
Think logically, he told himself, taking a deep breath. They must have gotten the date wrong. Happens to everyone. He put the picture down, and reached for another.
It was them again, this time standing on the docks. They held each other close under an umbrella, though it didn’t seem to be raining. When had they done that? Surely this time, the date would actually help.
It didn’t. In fact, it was only a few weeks later than the first picture’s date. What exactly were the odds of the same mistake happening twice? He didn’t need a computer to tell him that they weren’t high.
Grabbing the rest of the photographs, he turned them over, not even bothering to look at the scenes they depicted. He hoped to find an explanation, or anything that would calm the growing sense of dread that drove him to keep looking. But it seemed that his questions would remain unanswered, his confusion unresolved. All he had was a bunch of pictures, familiar and yet unfamiliar, each of them claiming to be from an impossible time.
Tearing his eyes away for a second, he happened to glance at the clock. The sight made him jump to his feet- the farmer would be back very soon. As much as he wanted to ask them about the photographs, he doubted he would be able to get his thoughts together in time. Instead, he shoved them deep into his hoodie’s pockets, smiling in preparation to pretend nothing was wrong.
Even after marriage, he wasn’t someone who left the house often. He went out, did only what he needed to do, then returned home with great relief. So it had probably taken him much longer than most people would need to find the reclusive wizard’s tower, situated deep within a forest he had rarely even approached since reaching adulthood.
After a lot of walking, which he suspected had only taken him in a big circle, he came across the moss-covered stairs that led to an equally moss-covered tower. It looked abandoned, but it had to be the wizard’s residence- how many towers could the forest possibly have?
He knocked on the arched wooden door, avoiding any spots that looked close to rotting away entirely. Couldn’t a wizard easily get a better door? Was he that committed to the aesthetic, or was he just lazy?
He didn’t get an answer to those questions, but he did get an answer to his knock. The wizard looked him up and down, still holding the doorknob- as if he was ready to slam it shut at any second. “Can I help you, young man?”
“I… hope so?” Despite Sebastian’s careful planning of what he would say, actually being faced with someone unfamiliar was nerve-inducing enough to make him forget most of it. “It depends… how much do you know about time travel?”
“Time travel?” The wizard frowned, clearly unimpressed with his nascent theory. “This isn’t one of your sci-fi novels- the ones you insist on leaving throughout the forest, by the way. Didn’t anyone ever teach you to pick up after yourself?”
“That was one time… okay, maybe a few times. But come on, it has to have been, like, fifteen years since I last did that. Right?” Something flashed behind the wizard, but Sebastian resisted the temptation to try and take a closer look, sensing it would probably only irritate the man further.
“That may be a long time for a mundane, but the forest has a long memory. And even the slightest interference can disturb the natural balance.” He started inching the door closed. “Now, if that’s all, kindly leave me to my work.”
Once he noticed what was happening, Sebastian reached out to grab the doorknob. He wasn’t exactly a bodybuilder, but he was at least strong enough to keep the door open for another moment. “Wait. Maybe it’s not time travel, but I still need someone to explain this.” With his other hand, he pulled out the photographs that he had kept carefully hidden.
With a great sigh, the wizard accepted them when they were handed over. Looking at each one, his frown deepened. “And what needs explaining? They seem perfectly normal to me.”
“Turn them over.” Being faced with the prospect of not being understood was enough to make him say much more than he usually would. “I know they look normal, but when I see them… something feels wrong. I can’t even remember taking any of these. It’s like I was there, but wasn’t. Maybe… maybe the pictures are normal, but… am I?”
At that, the wizard looked up, eyes piercing. “Perhaps you had better come inside,” he said, pulling Sebastian into the tower without waiting for an answer.
The tower’s interior was creepy, but in a way Sebastian could appreciate. Dim lighting, a bubbling cauldron, shelves lined with jars that held mysterious ingredients… it was like a Solarian Chronicles scenario brought to life, though he had more sense than to try and bring that up. The thought of fictional wizards seemed to irritate the real one.
Speaking of the real one, he had made Sebastian wait as he searched for something concealed by rows of ancient-looking bookshelves. While his back was turned, it was more than a little tempting to lean over and take a sip of whatever was in the cauldron, but… better not.
“Finally.” He heard the wizard’s voice echo from a far corner, but within an instant, he was back at Sebastian’s side. “It took long enough to find this for you, so I expect you to return it as soon as you’re done with it.”
He opened his hand to reveal what appeared to be some sort of bracelet- a simple black chain, adorned with a charm in the shape of a bat. Not bad- probably something Sebastian would wear if he cared about jewellery. But given the context, he suspected there was more to it than fashion. “What does it do?”
“I was just about to explain that, if you’ll give me a moment to speak.” The wizard shook his head. “For as long as you wear it, you’ll be concealed from the senses of anything you come across. Given your combat ability, I suspect it’s the only way you’ll survive the path to the Dark Shrine of Memory.”
“Hey, what do you know about my combat ability?” The insult annoyed him so much that he didn’t even bother to ask about the Dark Shrine of Memory.
“I observe all you villagers on a regular basis,” the wizard told him, as if that was perfectly normal behaviour and not creepy at all. “That rock crab was quite close to being the end of you, and it hardly compares to the monsters that guard the Dark Shrines. If you want to play hero, do it some other time.”
Sebastian looked down, feigning great interest in the bracelet to conceal the blush that stood out far too well against his pale face. It was bad enough to be reminded of the rock crab incident, but to find out someone had been watching? In a different situation, he might have stormed out in an effort to preserve a shred of dignity. As it was, all he could do was take the talisman and mutter a quick thanks.
“Look for a cave near the train station,” the wizard advised, already turning away. “Stand on the teleportation sigil, and you’ll be taken to the shrines. Oh, and don’t think you can use that charm to pull any pranks on the townspeople. I’ll be more than happy to teach you a lesson about the seriousness of magic if you do.”
The wizard said no more, and Sebastian suspected that his audience was over. Keeping the bracelet concealed with his photographs, he returned to the door, taking a deep breath of fresh air as he left the tower.
The walk to the railroad was a long one, and he stopped at the farmhouse to take a quick rest before moving on. For better or worse, he had the place to himself while he planned his next move.
He would go to the Shrine, and then… what? Would he have to make an offering? And even if he did, was he guaranteed answers? Suddenly, none of it seemed so simple, but he suspected he wouldn’t be able to rest until it was all figured out.
So, he would have to test the invisibility charm. Though he didn’t doubt the wizard’s abilities, it didn’t seem wise to rush into a den of monsters without being sure of his safety. Slipping the bracelet on, he stepped outside and headed for the chicken coop.
Usually, at the sight of a human, the chickens would gather around in hopes of being fed. But when Sebastian walked in, they remained in their places, softly clucking as if no one was watching.
Perfect. He kept the bracelet on as he headed for town. It was as lively as ever, but for once, nobody he passed tried to stop him or talk to him. I wonder if I could convince the wizard to let me keep this… Nah, probably not.
After passing the clinic, Pierre’s shop, the community centre, his old house, the spa, and the train station, he finally stood in front of a little cave, the arch barely tall enough for him to walk through without ducking. How long had that been there? He had explored this exact spot plenty of times with Sam and Abigail, and he couldn’t remember ever seeing a cave.
Well, a lot had changed in the past few years. He couldn’t let it bother him, not when the afternoon was already starting to give way to evening. Fidgeting with the chain on his wrist, he stepped into the cave and made his way to a small glowing circle on the ground. Surely that was the sigil.
He got his answer as soon as his shoe made contact with it. His vision blacked out for a second, and he felt something like a great wind sweep him away, right through the walls of the cave.
It didn’t take long. Within seconds, the pressure died down, and he was left with a brief dizziness before returning to normal. Once he could turn around without feeling sick, he took in his surroundings. He appeared to be standing on an island, in an ink-black sea that stretched out endlessly in every direction. It was even darker above him, in a way that suggested the distant roof of a cave, rather than the sky. Ahead, goblins and void spirits patrolled paths that all seemed to lead to the same place- a single hut, scorched and twisted to the point of architectural impossibility (he could practically hear his mother exclaiming over it).
There was no time to stand around looking. He followed the path directly to the hut, carefully dodging monsters that didn’t once acknowledge his existence. Damn, now I actually have to be grateful to the wizard. Any one of those monsters looked tough to fight on its own, let alone all at once… what kind of person was strong enough to get through that way?
Waiting until none of the monsters were looking, he slid past the door as quickly and quietly as he could manage. The hut’s interior was quite a bit larger than the outside suggested- somehow, that didn’t surprise him. The front half had plenty of the items one might expect to find in a home, while most of the back half’s space was taken up by three massive shrines, carved from black stone and staring down at him with large, empty eyes. Though none of them moved, they gave him an uneasy feeling.
It was far too late to give up. Reluctantly, he approached the shrine on the left, searching its base until he came across a small, dull plaque.
Dark Shrine of Selfishness
Not what he was after. He needed no help with selfishness, he half-joked to himself as he turned his attention to the middle shrine. Finding the plaque on that one was much quicker.
Dark Shrine of Memory
There it was. Heart racing, he stepped up onto the platform that faced the shrine, hoping that he wouldn’t be the sacrifice it wanted.
He still wore the bracelet, but it didn’t seem to matter. The shrine’s stone eyes stared directly at him, cutting through the haze of magic that hid him from the rest of the world. And as he stared back, it whispered.
“For an offering, something was taken from you. And for another, it will be given back. Bring three golden tributes, and all will be as it was.”
After that, the shrine fell silent, its eternal stare continuing. For a moment, all Sebastian could do was stand there. As fun as magic was in stories and games, being faced with the real thing was a bit overwhelming. As if he was messing with something that really shouldn’t be messed with.
But in this situation, it seemed that he hadn’t been the first one to mess around. What was it the shrine had said? Something had been taken from him. His memories of something, presumably- but why? Had he seen something he shouldn’t have? Maybe trying to get those memories back was a bad idea, but wasn’t it better to be tortured by knowledge than by ignorance?
Speaking of forbidden knowledge- in the shadow of one of the shrines, he spotted a little hatch, holding a ladder that led down somewhere below. Probably just a basement, but if there was any chance it held some answers, he would have to check.
The room was narrower and better-lit than he expected. The only thing he found was a large golden shrine, its characteristics seeming to subtly shift every time he looked at it. Before he could even read its plaque, it started whispering to him, in a softer and higher voice than the Dark Shrine.
“Feel like a change? I can help you… just a few hundred gold, and you can look any way you desire… The Shrine of Illusions is here to help…”
Sebastian had to force himself to step away. Sure, he wouldn’t mind being a bit taller, or stronger-looking… but that wasn’t what he was there for. Behind the Shrine of Illusions, he noticed another ladder to climb.
He opened the hatch, and his head popped up into… the wizard’s library?
“Wait, what?” He climbed out, confirming that he was, in fact, in the tower. “How did I get back here?”
“Oh, there you are.” The wizard stood at his cauldron, staring deep into the green glow. “Take that charm off, would you? I don’t feel like having to use my special sight to know you’re there.”
Sebastian obliged, getting as close to the cauldron as he dared. “I found the shrine. It said someone took my memories… but why would they do that?”
“How would I know?” The wizard reached over and took the bracelet back. “But I can definitely confirm someone used the shrine against you. I could see the dark magic clouding your mind from the moment you walked in.”
The way the wizard looked at him suggested that maybe that was supposed to upset him, but he was still mostly just confused. “It said I need three golden tributes to get them back. What does that mean?”
“Tributes… an antiquated currency measure. In your own terms, thirty thousand gold coins should suffice.”
“Thirty thousand?” They had much more than that in their joint savings account, but still… it was a lot to take out at once, and probably wouldn’t go uncommented on.
“You ask a lot of questions, don’t you?” The wizard produced a small bottle of clear liquid, spooning out just a few drops to shake into the cauldron. The effect was immediate- the potion glowed even brighter than before. “It seems quite simple. Bring the gold to the shrine, and your memories will return. And if you later decide you were better off not knowing… well, that won’t be my problem.”
“Fine by me.” Somehow, hearing the wizard say that was exactly what he needed to maintain his conviction. “I’ll be back here tomorrow with the gold.”
“Here?” Shaking his head, the wizard handed the bracelet back. “You’ll go through the cave just like everyone else, young man.”
After going through the cave just like everyone else, Sebastian stared up at the shrine once again. Right away, he noticed something different- the great statue’s eyes, once empty, each contained a spark of green. What caused it, he couldn’t tell.
It didn’t matter. What mattered was bringing this bizarre quest to its conclusion. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a large drawstring bag that held the necessary amount of coins. Though the money belonged to both of them, he hadn’t consulted his spouse- he figured it was better to bring it up after he had the evidence of restored memories to justify the expense.
No more waiting. No more thinking. He tossed the bag into the shrine’s collection bowl, the sound of its collision ringing through the hut.
The bag burst into electric-blue flames, then vanished. Sebastian didn’t see it.
He remembered. Everything.
Though it all came at once, his brain processed it in a roughly sequential order. Meeting the new farmer, and being too preoccupied with his own unhappiness to notice or care much. Running into them more and more on his rare journeys outside, being gifted with random trinkets that always seemed to be something he would love. Taking them to his special places, letting them hear his private thoughts. Feeling comfortable. Understood. Throwing away his dreams of city life to take a chance on love.
Something going wrong. Long, lonely days and nights without a single sight of the person who was supposed to be his life partner. Being dismissed whenever he did try to initiate contact. Feeling crushed and suffocated, in the place that was supposed to be his salvation. And then, the final humiliation- divorce papers, delivered to his mailbox without a word. Without even a chance to try and fix things.
Moving back home, alternating between barely-concealed rage and barely-concealed tears. Refusing to come out of his basement, even for his old friends- eventually, even for food. Because the whole miserable experience seemed to have once and for all answered the question he used to ask himself- If I just disappeared, would it really matter?
Waking up one day, and for the first time in a long time, feeling perfectly fine. Getting on with his coding and his games, as if nothing had happened. Taking a walk to the lake, and meeting the new farmer- someone who always looked vaguely familiar, and possessed a near-supernatural knowledge of his likes and dislikes. Always knew what to say to make him feel safe and loved, even occasionally finished his sentences…
His train of thought was interrupted by his own gasp for breath. Entire body shuddering, he squeezed his eyes shut to prevent anything from escaping. Unfortunately, he couldn’t shut off the continuous flow of memories, parading themselves through his consciousness.
They tortured him for what felt like a long time, long enough for his legs to go numb as he stood in the same spot. When they all started to blur together, losing their sharper characteristics in favour of displaced sounds or feelings, he managed to drag himself back the way he came. He didn’t feel like facing the wizard, or anyone else.
Except one person, who had a hell of a lot of explaining to do.
When they finally came home, he didn’t know what to say.
It wasn’t that he had nothing to say to them. In fact, he had so much to say that it was all tripping over itself, fighting to be first. He was silent for long enough for them to catch onto his disturbed expression before he could say anything.
“Is everything all right?” Genuine concern. Somehow, it hurt even more than if it had been fake. Rather than deal with any more, he forced himself to speak.
“Why did you do it?”
“…Do what?” Did they suspect that he had regained his memories? They didn’t seem to- they looked deep in thought, as if trying to think of what they possibly could have done. “Sebastian, what’s wrong? You know you can tell me.”
“You… my memories!” Already getting incoherent, some calmer part of him noted. Probably not good. “And after all that, you married me again? Why? Who… what kind of person would do something like that?”
That certainly changed their expression- several times in a span of seconds, in fact. After shifting from their original look of concern, Sebastian spotted confusion, realisation, fear, horror, embarrassment, pain… regret? Or was that just something he wanted to see?
“Sebastian…” They half-heartedly reached out, giving up when he didn’t meet them halfway. “When we first met… I was an idiot. I was so obsessed with proving myself, convincing myself that coming here was the right decision. I thought rushing into marriage with the first friend I made meant I was doing a good job. But I still wasn’t happy. I kept running after useless trophies, instead of appreciating what I already had.”
They paused for a second. When he didn’t take the opportunity to speak, they continued. “Then I realised how I’d been treating you. I felt horrible. I didn’t think I could ever fix things… so I decided to start again. I got rid of all the pain I caused, so I could give you the happy ending you really deserved.”
They searched his expression, but didn’t seem to find whatever they were looking for. “Can’t you at least try to understand? I know how much it hurt you when it didn’t work out. I didn’t want you to have to live with that forever.”
“…So that’s why you did it? To spare my feelings?” He had to close his eyes again. He couldn’t even bear looking at them. “Come on. You know I would have forgiven you… all I wanted was for someone to care about me. You did it because you didn’t want to face the consequences of your own failure.”
They didn’t respond. That was all the confirmation he needed.
“Well,” Sebastian finally continued. Oddly enough, he no longer felt the urge to cry. His chest ached, but in a slow, cold way- as if his heart was turning to ice. “That’s all I wanted to say.” Ignoring whatever expression they now wore, he walked straight past, to the little side room where he stored his most prized possessions.
It didn’t take long to pack. Throughout the process, he pointedly avoided looking at the farmer, but the lack of footsteps told him they didn’t move from the place they were standing. They didn’t try to speak either, until he hefted his full backpack up onto his shoulders.
“Can’t we talk about this?” He didn’t look back to see how sincere their pleading tone was. “I know I made mistakes, but it doesn’t have to be this way…”
“You’re right,” Sebastian agreed. “It didn’t have to be this way. But thanks to you, it was.”
He didn’t let himself hang around for any longer. Slamming the farmhouse’s door behind him, he climbed onto his motorbike and started the short drive home.
Coming home was even worse the second time- not because it was different, but because it was the same. Demetrius and Maru kept their distance, which was smart of them, because he didn’t want to hear a word from either of them. But even his mother’s sympathy failed to have much of an effect when he could near-perfectly predict everything she would say.
After choking down a few spoonfuls of pumpkin soup, more out of obligation than any desire to eat, he gave up and drifted down to his old basement. Judging by the smell, it had been deep-cleaned in his absence, but besides that it was just as he had left it. Huh, thought it would have been turned into another lab by now. Guess they all knew it wouldn’t last.
Well, that was just great. Once his computer was back in place, he could get back to his coding without interruption. After all, he still didn’t plan to rot in the basement for life- the city was waiting for him.
He worked through the whole night, and a decent portion of the morning. The sun was well and truly risen when he habitually reached into his pocket, hoping he might have left a snack in there.
Instead, his fingers brushed paper. Pulling it all out, he was confronted by a stack of photographs. Right. The pictures that started it all, that he had apparently forgotten to throw away.
He looked so happy. That was all he thought before his hands started moving on their own, grasping the photographs’ edges and pulling them apart. Seizing them every time they fell, he tore them up again and again, until only the smallest pieces remained.
Looking down at the pieces, it was much harder to place his expression. In fact, it was hard to tell that there was anything there in the first place. Much more appropriate, he decided. Because there really was nothing there.
Energy absolutely expended, he slumped over in his chair, and let sleep claim him.
He returned to life with an ache in his shoulders.
Damn it, I’ve got to stop falling asleep in my chair. He was definitely going to pay for that in a few years, when youth could no longer protect him from joint pains. But after a few stretches, that was no longer the priority. An unfinished module patiently displayed itself for his completion.
As he worked, he became increasingly aware of a bitter feeling, somewhere in the back of his mind. Weird, he couldn’t remember anything especially upsetting happening lately… maybe he had a bad dream? That wasn’t uncommon for him.
It hardly mattered. He worked until the module was finished, taking a few breaks to check social media or read the new chapters of his favourite serialised comics. Though it was still early afternoon, he decided it was a pretty decent day’s work.
His stomach was quick to remind him that it was about time he had his combination-late-lunch/very-late-breakfast, and the rest of him couldn’t have agreed more. Opening the door, he ascended the stairs with a one-track focus on the refrigerator.
“Sebby!” His mother called to him as soon as he emerged. Sighing just a little, he turned around.
“You haven’t met the new farmer, have you? Come say hi!” The farmer in question was standing at the counter, watching him with a wary expression. Maybe they didn’t like social interaction either? Well, he would do his best to get them both through it as painlessly as possible.
“You just moved in, right? Cool.” Ah, yes. What a conversationalist he was.
Strangely, it seemed to do the trick. They smiled, any apprehension appearing to melt away. “Actually, I’ve been here for a while now. But I don’t get up this way often, so it’s not surprising we haven’t met.”
“Right… so out of all the places you could live, you chose Pelican Town?” Someone willingly moving in was an odd thing to imagine, considering how much more of… everything the city seemed to have. Oh well, it wasn’t his job to judge other people for their bad decisions. Satisfied that enough social interaction had taken place, he returned to his original task: food.
After a minute of searching through meticulously organised tubs of leftovers, he managed to find a decent helping of spaghetti. Sticking it in the microwave, he turned around, and suddenly found himself faced by the farmer.
“Uh… hello? Need something?” Whatever it was, he hoped it would be over before the spaghetti was ready. Once he could get downstairs, an evening of leisure awaited. After all, he couldn’t be all work and no play.
The farmer shrugged, opening their backpack and taking out a small item. “Found this in the mines. You can have it if you want.”
They opened their hand, and Sebastian blinked a few times to confirm he was really seeing what he thought he was. A perfectly formed Frozen Tear, its tip catching the light in the perfect way to make the entire crystal sparkle.
He reached out slowly, making sure it was really okay to take before picking it up. They were really giving it to him? That was… interesting. Maybe he would have to pay some attention to them from now on.
After a moment of just looking at it, he remembered it was probably polite to say something.
“I really love this. How did you know?”