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While Barley Lightfoot had never been the most studious person, a subject he could never learn enough about was history--especially magic. No amount of information about this passion of his ever satisfied the young man, no matter how much knowledge he retained. He always wanted to know more.
After he found out that his younger brother Ian possessed the magic gift, he had been hunting for old spell books all over New Mushroomton. While his beloved game Quests of Yore was completely historically accurate and contained many, many spells for wizards to use, it only had some of the most common ones. Spell casting is a vast subject, Barley had learned, and since Ian had the ability to perform all the common spells the brothers had in Barley’s guidebook, the older Lightfoot wanted to find others. He wanted to find some that weren’t necessarily used during quests--which all the spells in Quests of Yore are, of course--but rather, he wanted to discover spells that could help people, more so on a psychological level rather than in adventuring or combat.
Barley had been all over town searching for history books that might contain information on spells of any kind. He’d been to every library, book stores, even the local history museum, yet he found nothing of the sort. If he found a book that did happen to have some sort of spell casting information, it was always spells that the brothers already knew of: levitation, disguise, armor, nature speak, even arcane lightning. Occasionally, Barley would get lucky and find a spell that wasn’t in Quests of Yore, but they were never particularly exciting ones. He’d found spells for night vision, duplicating objects, and sleep--which he still wrote down in a notebook for another time--but never anything that really peaked his interest. He remembered reading somewhere a while ago that there were once many spells that had emotional and psychological effects, apparently they were harder to come across than he originally thought.
He was close to giving up on his quest to find new spells when he thought of some place, or rather someone, that he hadn’t visited yet: the Manticore. Surely she would have books of some kind from the old days. Barley was just desperate for anything new, something other than nature spells or incantations to help you defend yourself. He wanted to find spells that might relieve Ian of stress for long periods of time, maybe something to slow down his own busy brain occasionally. Maybe a spell that could change the minds of other people to make them less irritating, or perhaps a spell to help you remember things--or forget things you wish you’d never seen. Maybe, just maybe, the Manticore might know some uncommon spells, or even own a book about creating spells of your own.
When Barley arrived at the Tavern, he noticed the Manticore wasn’t out in the main area, meaning she was probably doing something in a back room. He glanced around for a moment before a tired looking hostess approached him.
“Table for one?” the elf woman asked.
“Oh, sorry, no,” Barley chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. “I’m actually just here to see the Manticore. I’m more or less a family friend-”
“You one of the Lightfoot boys?”
Barley was taken aback a little bit, a proud smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Yes, actually, I am. Barley Lightfoot.”
The hostess nodded, unhooking the walkie-talkie from her belt and holding it to her mouth. “Tessa to Corey--Barley Lightfoot is here to see you.”
Within seconds, the Manticore burst out of the kitchen doors, a wide grin on her face. “Barley!” she boomed, making her way over to him as quickly as she could. “What can I do for you? You need some guidance for a quest?”
“Well, sort of,” Barley said, gesturing his hand side-to-side. “You see, mighty Manticore-”
“Please, honey, you don’t need to be so formal,” the Manticore chuckled. “I promise it’s okay for you to call me Corey.”
“Right, sorry,” Barley apologized. It was hard for him to forget that he no longer had to be formal when he spoke to the Manticore, he was just so used to her being a great historical figure. He still couldn’t wrap his mind around the fact that she was practically family at this point. “Anyway, I’ve been on a little quest for a while, and I’m starting to lose hope, so you’re my last chance at completing it.”
Corey looked perplexed. “Oh, you never give up on a quest. What’s got you so troubled?”
“I’ve been trying to find some new spells for Ian to try out,” Barley explained, “but I’m having a really--and I mean really--hard time finding any. I’ve checked every library in the city, I’ve been to countless book stores and even checked the history museum, but I’ve only found, like, three spells that aren’t in the Quests of Yore guidebook. All the books I found that happened to have spells in them always just had spells Ian and I already know.”
“I see,” Corey nodded, pondering what the young man had told her. “Is there a specific type of spell you’re trying to find?”
“Actually, yes,” Barley nodded, hope already rising inside him. “I’ve been trying to find spells that have emotional and psychological effects. I remember reading about spells like that once, but no books actually contain any of the spells. I was hoping you might know something about spells like that-”
“I’ve got just what you’re looking for!” Corey exclaimed, gesturing for Barley to follow her. “Follow me, follow me. We have to go to my storage room.”
As he followed the Manticore through the crowded tavern, down into her basement, Barley’s excitement grew exponentially. His gut was right once again in believing the Manticore would have what he was searching for.
The stone staircase was spiraled and the small basement was cold and dim. The Manticore swatted above her head before she caught a thin rope in her paw, tugging on it gently and lighting up the room. Barley’s mouth fell slightly agape as he gazed at the pile of treasures--well, certainly treasures to him--that were before him. There were shelves filled with old texts, chests with contents unknown to the elf, as well as shields and swords and other weapons hung on the walls.
Corey could see that the boy was speechless, and she chuckled. “I knew you would love it down here.”
Barley immediately walked over to the bookshelves, scanning the spines of the books. “These are...holy Alora, these are old.” He noticed that not all of the spines had writing on them, but some of them had runes or ancient Elvish on the spines. “Some of these are in English, right? I’ve been learning how to read runes, but I have no clue how to read ancient Elvish...”
“Don’t worry, Barley. While these books are mostly from Yore times, most of them are written in English,” the Manticore assured him, walking up beside him and tapping a claw on the spine of a book. “Some of the titles on the covers are in Elvish or runes, but those were only really used for information that was meant to be kept secret from the common citizen.”
“Interesting...” Barley mumbled, pulling a random book out and inspecting the cover. The print on the cover was in fact in ancient Elvish, but sure enough, when he flipped the book open to a random page, the text was in English. “Ooh, a creature book,” he noticed, his eyes scanning the beautiful illustration of a phoenix.
Corey smiled as she watched Barley inspect the book he had picked up for a moment, noticing the sparkle in the young man’s eyes. “So, it was psychological spells you wanted?” she asked, her eyes and a finger scanning through the books.
“Yes,” Barley confirmed, closing the book in his hands. “Whatever you’ve got that’s uncommon would be great.”
Barley watched as the Manticore shuffled through the shelves, finally pulling out a book near the middle. “This one should suffice,” she said, handing the book to Barley.
He took the book into his hands and looked over the cover, realizing the title was written in runes. He smiled when he recognized them as the ones he had been learning. He took a moment to decipher the cover, reading the title as ‘Magic of the Mind’.
“This is perfect!” Barley beamed, flipping through the pages of the book. “Thank you so much! I’ll get this back to you as soon as possible, I promise!”
“Ah, don’t worry about it,” Corey dismissed with a grin. “You can keep it, I’ve got no use for it. In fact, you can take home any of these books, if you want. They might as well get some use instead of collecting cobwebs.”
“Really?” Barley’s eyes went wide, his heart racing with excitement. “Thank you so much, Corey!”
“No problem, Barley,” she chuckled, broken words echoing from her walkie-talkie. “Oh, I guess I have to get back up there...you can look around down here as long as you like, alright? Take home whatever books you want, and maybe another day, we can discuss swords,” she winked at Barley before she headed up the stairs, leaving the elf overly excited for his next visit with her.
After glancing at a few more of the books the Manticore had on her shelves, Barley only decided to take home three of them. He took home a book about forging weapons, that creature journal he had picked up, and of course, the book titled ‘Magic of the Mind’.
He was currently home by himself, laying on his back on his bed, holding the spell book above his face as he read it. He had found some great spells that he knew would help Ian out, specifically one to help relieve stress and tension in the mind and body. He hadn’t yet found one that might calm his own busy brain, but he mostly cared about finding spells that Ian could use to help himself feel better about school. His interest peaked when he hit a small section in the book that talked about spells that affected a subject’s memory.
“The Remembering Spell,” Barley read out loud to himself, sitting up. “For subjects that struggle to remember important tasks, this spell will aid their memory. Simply recite ‘Recordatio’ while the subject focuses on what they must remember. The spell will cast reminders into the subject’s mind, making it impossible for them to forget until that goal is completed,” he finished reading, letting the information sit in his brain for a moment. “Huh, that one would definitely be useful for me,” he chuckled.
He quickly got up and rifled around in his desk drawers until he found some sticky notes, using one to mark that page for later. He went back to his bed and read over that page again, trying to see if the spell had a magic decree. When he realized there wasn’t one, he was a little surprised. Must be a fairly simple spell then, he thought as he flipped to the next page.
“Memory Erasure Spell...now that’s really cool,” Barley thought aloud. “Erase troublesome memories from your mind with the incantation ‘Memoria Purgo’. Try your hardest to focus on a memory that bothers you, just long enough to cast the spell to forget,” he read, fascinated that a spell of this caliber existed. This one seems like it would have horrible consequences if it went wrong... he thought. He continued reading, and sure enough, he was right. “Concentration is key for this spell, as failure to focus on what you wish to remove from your mind could result in you forgetting something else...permanently...” he hissed as though his skin had been burned, all thoughts of potentially trying that spell evaporating. “Yeah, definitely not gonna mess with that one...”
As Barley continued through this spell book, the next page blew his mind. He read it over multiple times, just to make sure he read it correctly. There was no way this spell was real, he wanted to pinch himself to make sure he wasn’t dreaming.
“The Spell to Remember Again,” he read the title out loud, his best attempt to convince himself that what he read was in fact real. “A spell often used by those grieving a loss as a way to relive special moments. The incantation ‘Memento Iterum’ sends the subject into a sleeping state from an external view, while internally, they will enter their subconscious world with free will to explore their memories. They can interact with any memory they please without obstructing the original memory when they return to their conscious mind...”
After he finished reading that description out to himself--as well as the small phrase the subject would have to recite for the spell to work--Barley’s mind began to race with all the different things he could do with that spell. He could go back into a memory and beat up a bully, go back and see a monument he loved that was torn down, go back and see Ian as a baby again, just for fun...and he could go back and see his dad.
This revelation sent Barley’s mind spiraling, spiraling back to a memory a piece of him wished to forget. He thought back to that dreaded day, the day he couldn’t say goodbye.
He remembered how pale and lifeless his father looked, all of the tubes that surrounded him, the steady beeping of the heart monitor. He remembered the faded smile his father sported, trying his hardest to tell his little son that everything would be okay.
His little son...
Barley began to remember how everything felt for him that day, how scared and sad and confused he was. He remembered feeling like he was bolted to the floor, his whole body shaking with fear as he stared at a figure he no longer recognized. He remembered running out of the room, despite the cries from his mother and horribly sick father. He remembered how hard it was to breathe, how much his tears burned his eyes and skin as they poured down his face. He remembered his guilt and regret when his father left the world forever without him saying goodbye.
He remembered how traumatizing that day was for such a little boy.
Three years-old... Barley thought, tears in his eyes and a tightness forming in his throat. I was only three years-old when I forced myself to never be scared again...
Using the next few days to process his thoughts, Barley came to a conclusion: he wanted to go back to that painful fourth memory of his to speak to his three year-old self as a way of self-healing. He had no clue if that idea would work, but it was worth a shot.
He waited until the weekend to approach Ian with the new spell--he didn’t want to impede on Ian’s personal time on weekdays. He had high hopes that his little brother would be interested in trying out something different with his magic.
Barley knocked on Ian’s bedroom door, the spell book tucked under his arm. “Hey, Ian...can I talk to you for a bit?”
“Yeah, sure,” Ian responded immediately. “Come on in.”
Barley let himself into Ian’s room, giving his brother a little smile. Ian smiled back, sitting on his bed with a book in his hands. Barley held the spell book behind his back, approaching Ian slowly.
“I’ve been trying to find new spells for us to try together,” Barley began, his heart swelling when Ian seemed intrigued by where this conversation would be going. “So the other day, I went to see the Manticore, and she let me bring this book home,” he brought the book out from behind his back, holding it out to Ian. “It’s a spell book full of spells I’ve never seen before!”
Ian took the old book into his hands, flipping through the pages momentarily. “What kind of spells are in here?”
“It’s all psychological stuff!” Barley exclaimed, sitting beside Ian on his bed and leaning in close to the book. “All of the spells affect the subject’s mind!”
“Huh,” Ian thought aloud, impressed that Barley managed to find some different spells, let alone ones he never knew existed. “That’s certainly very different than the spells we know already.”
“Yeah! It’s so cool!”
A small silence washed over the room for a moment as Ian scanned the book every-which-way. Barley began to fidget, cracking his knuckles and twiddling his thumbs. Ian noticed this, and he looked over to his brother.
“Did you want to try a spell?” he asked, a smile accompanying his question.
Barley ran a hand through his hair, scratching the back of his neck afterwards. “Yeah, I do...”
Ian noticed how Barley’s voice trailed quieter, a melancholy look on his face. “Hey, is everything okay?” he asked, placing a gentle hand on his big brother’s back.
“Well, there’s a spell that I really want you to try on me,” Barley said, twiddling his thumbs again, “but it’s for a very...specific reason...and it might take a while...”
“That’s okay,” Ian nodded. “I don’t have anywhere to be today, if that’s what you were worried about. What spell do you want to do?” He handed the book back to Barley, and watched as he flipped to one of the pages he’d already bookmarked.
“This one.”
Ian read over the contents of the page, his brows raising as he did so. He took a moment to process the information before he uttered “That’s so interesting...”
Barley nodded enthusiastically. “It’s incredible, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, it is,” Ian agreed, looking up at Barley with an inquiring gaze. “So why do you want to try this spell?” he asked his older brother, glancing back down at the incantation.
Barley sighed, biting his lower lip as he locked his gaze to the floor. “I wanna talk to my younger self...specifically on the day Dad died...”
Ian’s expression softened. “Oh...”
“It’s okay if you don’t want to cast the spell, I understand-”
“No, no! Let’s do it!” Ian insisted, springing up off his bed and grabbing his staff that was leaned against his desk. “I guess I just wasn’t...expecting that you’d want to go back to...that memory. But I support you, and if that’s what you want to do, I’m here to help you.” He gave Barley a reassuring smile, placing a hand on his shoulder, the same as his big brother would always do for him.
At this gesture, Barley stood up and wrapped Ian in a tight hug. “Thank you...” he mumbled, feeling that familiar tightness in his throat that accompanied tears.
Once they had pulled out of the hug, the brothers headed downstairs to Barley’s room; Ian with his staff in hand, Barley with the spell book tucked under his arm. Both of them were nervous about trying this spell, each for different reasons. Ian was nervous because, well, it was a new spell--and he didn’t want to mess it up over a fear that something would go horribly wrong in Barley’s brain if he failed to cast the spell correctly. Barley, on the other hand, was simply nervous to go back to the most traumatizing day of his life...but he had a goal, and he was determined to reach it.
“The spell is going to send you into a sleeping state,” Ian reminded Barley, setting the spell book on his brother’s crowded desk. “It’s probably best for you to lay on your bed, so if you’re still under the spell when Mom gets back from her errands, she’ll just assume you’re having a nap.”
“Right,” Barley nodded, laying down on his bed and taking a deep breath. This is it, he told himself, you’ve got this. “Are you ready, Ian?”
“Yeah,” he replied, glancing at the spell’s information once again. “Wait, Barley, there’s something that you have to say before I cast the spell, since you’re the subject who will be affected.”
Barley pressed a hand to his forehead. “Ugh, I forgot...what is it again?”
“It’s ‘Return to moments lived long ago, remember what has passed. What once was loved is never lost, find it once more to make it last’,” Ian read out loud to Barley, turning back towards his brother and standing in the spell casting stance. “You got that?”
“Yeah, I got it. I’m ready...” Barley took another deep breath, relaxing his mind as best as he could. There’s a warrior inside you...you’ve got this. “Return to moments lived long ago, remember what has passed. What once was loved is never lost, find it once more to make it last.”
Ian aimed his staff at Barley’s head, concentrating harder than he ever had before on his magic. “Memento Iterum!”
Streams of wispy white magic burst out of Ian’s staff, enveloping Barley’s body. The magic fully encased him, lifting him off the bed by a few inches before all the magic flowed up to his head, dissipating around his brain. Barley fell back against his mattress, his eyes closed and his expression blank.
“Barley!” Ian raced over to the bed, frantically pressing his finger to his brother’s neck to check for a pulse. It was there, and he could hear Barley breathing steadily. “Oh, thank the Gods, it worked...” he sighed with relief, inspecting his older brother and noticing his skin now had a faint iridescent look to it--an effect of the spell, signifying it was working. “I hope this spell works the way you hoped, Barley...”
Barley saw a flash of white before his world went dark.
He felt like he was floating. Floating in nothing at all.
He knew his eyes were closed, but he couldn’t hear anything. That is, until he heard the laughter of a man he once knew.
He opened his eyes and was enchanted by what he saw. He was in fact floating, in what seemed to be the void of his own mind. It was colorful, clouded and crazy, just how he always felt it had been. There wasn’t much to it other than swirls of colors and small bursts of energy, but Barley figured that was because he wasn’t thinking of anything at the moment--he wasn’t thinking of where he wanted to go.
It worked, he thought, a proud smile on his face as he laughed. It worked!
He was so proud of Ian, he was briefly transported to the moment he entered Ian’s door and saw he was performing the visitation spell. Due to his shock of it showing up unexpectedly, the memory disappeared after a few seconds.
“Woah,” Barley uttered, his eyes wide. “This is so cool...”
As he glanced around the void of his mind, some things started to take a gentle cloud-like form--things that Barley loved. He saw Ian, his mother, Blazey, his friends, all things Quests of Yore, both the original and the second Guinevere...and finally, his father. He stared at this clouded image of his father, and that’s what made him remember what he came here for.
“Okay, I need to focus...” he said, closing his eyes and taking a breath. He thought hard about that dreadful day, about all of the painful emotions he felt. He thought back to himself when he was just three years-old, he thought about his dad fading away before he could muster up the courage to say goodbye. “I need to go back to the day I couldn’t say goodbye!”
Barley felt a slight breeze blow through his hair before he could finally feel something. He felt his feet on a stable floor, signifying he was no longer floating, and he heard some ambient noises. He opened his eyes and had to try his hardest not to panic.
There he was, standing in the hospital. It looked just the way it did on that day, all dingy and ominous for a little kid. He took some deep breaths to suppress his anxieties, forcing himself to push through. He looked around the hallway before his heart felt like it dropped into his stomach.
There it was. The hospital room his father died in.
And there he was. Three year-old him, stepping inside the room with his mother, who was pregnant with his little brother at the time.
Barley watched from the sidelines as toddler him gripped his mother’s hand tight, disappearing into the room that contained something he would have never been prepared to see. Barley didn’t want to see his father like that again, so he stood against the wall outside of the door, where he knew his younger self would run to at any minute.
It didn’t take long before he heard the desperate cries of his mother and father as his toddler self bolted out of that hospital room, curling up in a ball on the floor, shaking with sobs. As Barley watched his younger self, his heart shattered more than it ever had in his life.
He slowly approached his three year-old self, kneeling down in front of the sobbing boy. “Hey, buddy,” he placed a gentle hand on little Barley’s shoulder, and he brought his hand back when the small boy flinched.
Little Barley looked up and glanced over the man knelt down in front of him. He sniffled, wiping his eyes. “Mommy says I’m not supposed to talk to strangers...”
Barley realized he hadn’t really thought this through. He didn’t know where to go from here. “I’m...I’m not really a stranger...” he ended up saying, gazing at the young boy with the softest expression.
His younger self looked back in confusion. “Wha’do ya mean?”
Barley sighed, choking back tears. “I know exactly what you’re going though, little guy...I know how hard and confusing and sad it all is...”
Little Barley sniffled again. “What’s your name? You’re not a stranger if I know your name.”
“My name’s Barley,” he told his younger self, instantly scrapping the original thought he had of playing it off as if he was a different person.
“Hey, my name’s Barley, too!” the little boy smiled, wiping at his tear-stained face once again. “I’ve never met anyone who has my name.”
Barley chuckled, running a hand through his own hair. “That’s because I’m you,” he said, “I’m you all grown up and big.”
“You’re big me?” little Barley’s eyes went wide with fascination, looking his older self up, and down. “Wow, Mommy’s right...I will grow up to be big and strong...”
Barley chuckled again, his gaze flickering to the floor. “I remember this day, bud...I know you’re having a hard time right now.”
“I’m too scared,” little Barley admitted. “Daddy doesn’t look like Daddy...at all...”
“I know he doesn’t...” Barley choked out, sitting down beside his younger self and wrapping an arm around him. “And I know you’re scared...but I promise you, you are such a brave little boy.”
“But I’m scared...” the little boy repeated, looking down at the floor, defeated. “Being scared doesn’t make you very brave...”
“I know you’re scared right now, but even brave people are afraid of some things,” Barley said, smiling at his own words. “I told myself I could never be afraid of anything, but there’s a lot of things I’m afraid of...”
“What are you scared of?”
“Well, I’m afraid of hospitals,” Barley started, “so it’s hard for me to be here right now...I’m afraid of people thinking I’m a failure, I’m afraid of Gelatinous Cubes--you’ll know what those are eventually--I’m afraid of Ian and Mom getting hurt-”
“Who’s Ian?” little Barley asked, his head tilted to the side like a curious dragon.
“Oh, Ian is your--well, our, I guess--little brother,” Barley smiled.
“He is?” toddler Barley beamed. “We love each other lots, right?”
Barley nodded. “Yeah, you do.”
“That’s good,” little Barley smiled, rocking back and forth slightly in his older self’s arm. “I can’t wait to see my baby brother.”
“Oh, just you wait until he smiles at you for the first time,” Barley said, reminiscing on that core memory of his baby brother’s smile. “Things are gonna be hard for a little while, but...everything will be okay again once your baby brother smiles at you.”
Barley then heard the unmistakable sound of a heart monitor flatlining, followed by his mother’s cry and doctor’s voices. Dad is gone. He immediately pulled his younger self tight to his chest, trying his best to cover the little boy’s ears until the piercing beep stopped.
“I know everything seems...wrong right now, but...it gets better, I promise,” he told his little self, a tear slipping from his eye. He felt the small boy grab onto his t-shirt, trying to reciprocate the hug as best as he could with his little arms. “Keep your head held high, okay? You’ve got a pretty amazing life ahead of you...” Barley pulled out of the hug to hold his younger self’s face in his hands. He looked at the little boy with pride, brushing the tears out of his eyes.
“I will, big me,” the little boy said, hugging his older self again as tight as he possibly could.
“You’re such a brave little boy...” Barley told him again, engulfing him in the warmest embrace as he pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “I love you, Barley.”
Little Barley giggled. “I love you too, Barley.”
The older boy gave his younger self one last gentle squeeze before he pulled out of the hug, feeling the memory starting to fade away. “And don’t worry, you’ll get your chance to say goodbye...even if it takes a while.”
Barley waved goodbye to his three year-old self as all that was around him faded away and turned back into colorful cloud-like structures. Then he saw that white flash, and his world once again went black.
Barley opened his eyes and he was back in his room, back on his bed. He smiled to himself as his heart felt warm and full. He let out a satisfied sigh as he wrapped his arms around himself, feeling healed. Of course he would never fully be healed, but he definitely felt much better. Even better than when he was able to have a second chance at saying goodbye to his dad.
He got up off his bed and headed out of his room, where he was greeted by his mother in the kitchen.
“Oh, Barley, you’re finally awake!” she greeted him, walking over to him and pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Ian told me you weren’t feeling well, so you took a nap. How are you feeling now?” she asked as she ran her fingers through his hair.
“I’m feeling much better,” he chuckled. “I definitely needed the nap.”
“I’m so glad you’re feeling okay,” Laurel smiled at her oldest son, cupping his cheek in her hand. “Could you go grab Ian for me? Dinner is almost ready.”
“Yeah, of course.”
Barley made his way up the stairs to Ian’s room, knocking on the door before he let himself in. Before Ian could even say a word, Barley rushed over to him and wrapped him in a hug.
“Thank you so much, Ian...” he mumbled, feeling tears prick his eyes.
“You’re welcome, Barley,” Ian replied, reciprocating his older brother’s hug. “I’m glad the spell worked the way you had hoped.”
As Barley hugged his little brother tight, he had never felt more grateful, and he finally remembered how three year-old him managed to stay so brave.
He did it all for his baby brother.