When I woke up, I was seven years younger.
Disorientation simply cannot describe how I felt at that time. My lungs were screaming, desperate for air. I took a deep breath, finally opened my eyes and saw the dark ceiling. I sat up and leaned against the wall. Soft sheets wrapped around me and a pile of pillows supported me. Everything felt wrong.
None of this should be here. I shouldn't be here. I felt dizzy. My brain was still trying to integrate, trying to mold everything in front of me into a coherent picture.
The room was almost pitch black—my room, I reminded myself. this is my room. The only source of light was a street lamp near the house, filtering through a curtained window. Long black shadows stretch the length of the floor, casting the room into patches of color and highlighting the voids that fill the nooks and crannies. Everything looked familiar, like I'd just stumbled out of a dream.
Is this all a dream?
There was a strange feeling in the air, one I hadn't felt in a long time. A faint hum and the crackle of electricity. my computer. A real electronic PC. I left it there that night. I was chatting with someone as we left...her face crossed my mind, but it was a vague outline and I couldn't form a complete picture. A lifetime has passed since we last spoke. Maybe there was no time at all, it occurred to me.
I got out of bed and hurried to the computer. The chair swiveled as I sat down. I forgot it even had wheels. I impatiently hit the space bar on my keyboard. It was a cheap machine that I bought secondhand from Carl, and it always took a while to wake up. I haven't even turned it off yet, but I still have to wait for the disc inside to rumble and the fan to spin up again. The display gave a sharp crackle and then finally came to life, colors fading as the backlight slowly warmed.
Right there in the corner of the screen is exactly what I want. The time was 1:32 a.m. on October 6, 2010. It was a Wednesday.
Now I'm even more confused. Years have passed, right? I carefully put my hands on my face. Something is missing. Everything felt smooth and unfamiliar. That was no longer my face, not the way I remembered it. Suddenly my arms and legs felt very weak.
Was this all a dream? Almost a sickening, horrific decade of my life imagined entirely in one night by the random quirks of my brain? All those life-and-death encounters, adventures, betrayals, romances? Spanning years campaigns and battles? Is this possible?
I open a browser window. I'm still trying to remember what exactly we were doing that night. I have to believe that my past self didn't clean up behind me, leaving no clues for a skilled tracker to follow. This time it's electronic clues, but the basic idea is the same. This is the closest record I can think of to what happened years ago.
No. Just the night before. That was just a few hours ago. I need to remember this now.
The map to Sierraville Park is still open. I remember it very clearly. I drove us in the same truck that was left for me the day my dad disappeared. After I picked up our friend, we parked at the edge of the woods. I didn’t want to go, but Blake’s enthusiasm was contagious. What he saw out there, we must see too. Jane was eavesdropping downstairs and persuaded me to go.
Then Blake spotted a shadow flashing through the woods, and we followed it.
Blake walked through the woods, us following close behind. He kept circling back, shouting for us to follow him down a path only he could see. Just like when we played together, Blake was always at the front of the game. He was always five steps ahead of where he was supposed to be.
When we traveled through time, he was exactly the same as before, except he turned it to an advantage. He is always five steps ahead of his enemies and does things others dare not do. I've won quite a few battles using his madness.
How much of this actually happened? How much of it is true?
More memories flooded my mind, poisoned with fear. The weight of what I had done began to weigh on my mind, threatening to crush me completely. I would turn into something terrible. I was forced to make decisions with hundreds, if not thousands, of lives hanging in the balance. I've sacrificed allies and lost friends. I would go to the brink of losing everything and everyone. We managed to escape to the other side. I hated everything I had done and who I had been.
Is there a way out?
The answer is here. It was so simple and easy, I laughed out loud. I'm home now. I'm safe here. No one is hunting me anymore. Almost no one knows me. No one will know what I did. If it was really me.
There lay before me a beautiful golden path which I could follow without delay. No regrets. I could finally go back to a normal, simple life. Stop fighting. Just normal life. I could hang out with friends, play basketball, and let other people control me. All I have to do is forget.
As I was thinking these words, I felt a weight lift off my shoulders. I closed the map of Sierraville on the screen, figuratively wiping it clean. The browser returned me to a conversation with a girl on the next tab. She had a reserved face, a guarded expression, as if she was always hiding something behind her smile - but there was a friendly intelligence in her eyes, the kind that implored you to remember every word she said eyes, even though they may be few and far between. Her voice was warm and passionate, the kind that could inspire troops to go to war.
We were chatting in a chat room she invited me to a few days ago. Looking back on this conversation, I was so casual and relaxed. I've forgotten how to talk like that. These days, everything is either prepared for court or a rousing impromptu speech delivered in the heat of battle. I no longer know how to talk to others alone.
I shrugged. I'll find a way. We've only spoken a few times in person, usually with her friends. I could treat things like a joke or let her do the talking. I can get around it.
I'll get around it all. Everything will return to its original state. After all, nothing happened last night. My life is very normal. I'm just an ordinary high school student. That's all.
I put the computer back into hibernation. I figured I should just go with it; after all, I had school in the morning. After going through all of this, it sounds pretty simple. I was almost expecting the same bland old classroom. I was about to jump back into bed when I heard rustling downstairs. Someone is moving around. I guess my mother came home late from get off work again. It wasn't surprising that she was late, but I suddenly wanted to hug her. I miss her very much.
I had forgotten how cold it was at home, especially late at night in October. I rifled through my closet looking for my jacket. My favorite jacket. I tasted its softness and warmth. This is another thing I've missed over the years.
For hours, I remind myself. Only a few hours had passed.
I opened the door, wincing as it rattled in protest. This is always the case if the handle is turned all the way. I usually remember to stop before I turn too far. Just another item on my list of things I need to remember. If this keeps up, I'm going to have to write them down. I closed the door and walked downstairs. The light in the kitchen came on.
Walking down the stairs felt like an eternity. I was thinking about what I should say every step of the way. If I say anything. If I'm just pretending to be down for a drink, I need an excuse if I'm up so late on a school night. My mom is not the type to get mad at us for staying up late. She did her best to feed us, but this was the kind of night where I would make dinner for the three of us and put hers in the refrigerator, no matter how late she got home. I used to hate picking up leftovers for her and hate that she couldn't cook around us.
Tonight I am even more grateful for all she has done for us over the years. She might not be home for dinner five nights a week, but what did that matter when she was working two full-time jobs a week to keep my sister and I healthy and in school? I felt like I couldn't do that. I learned a lot about cooking there. At the end of the week, I'm going to treat her to a nice dinner, and tonight, I'm going to remind her how great she is.
I turned a corner and saw, not my mom, but my sister Jennifer's long brown hair peeking out from the pantry door where she was rummaging through. When I walked in, she looked up in surprise. The crumbs of the snack cake fell from her hands and spilled onto the floor. I actually managed to sneak up on her.
"Uh...hey, Jen," I said awkwardly.
"Hi, Jen?" she repeated slowly. "Hi, Jen?" "That's it?"
"...Do you want to listen to me?"
Je
He frowned. "No, but...after everything I've been through..."
"What all?"
Jane's mouth opened wide and I noticed a bit of the same snack cake on her teeth. I frowned. Her eyes were as big as dinner plates. "You...you don't remember?"
Her words were a sledgehammer. Even as the wall I had hastily built began to crumble, I still wanted to deny it all. I wanted to stay in that happiness even for a few more minutes. "Remember what?"
"God, Matt. Do every kapavas, vis du
alav. "
"Dou
a
a kapavas, Je
. "Etolin burst out of my mouth unbidden. Jane's insult demanded some kind of response. I couldn't let go. But as her face contorted with satisfaction, I felt the comfort I'd hastily built up. The structure of ignorance crumbled around me like a crumbling fortress.
If Jane could remember, if she could speak Atolin, that would be true.
Sierraville is real.
"That's what I thought," Jane said proudly. "By the way, your pronunciation is still terrible." She picked up the snack from the floor, jumped up on the kitchen counter, and examined it carefully. After a while, she took a bite. Her face lit up. "This tastes great. Matt, we have to buy 200 more. Now."
I leaned against the refrigerator and put my hands on my forehead. A headache started to come over me, like a drum in my temples getting louder.
"Headache?" she asked.
"Yes."
"How long have you been awake?"
"Just a few minutes. What about you?"
"About half an hour?" Don't worry, everything will pass. Yes, it’s coming,” she added, and a huge wave of pain crashed through my brain.
My skull felt like someone had cut it in half repeatedly with a blunt axe. I gripped the refrigerator door handle so tightly that I felt like I was going to collapse. My vision disappeared, the kitchen light disappearing into a dark terror. A faint voice followed me down, farther and farther away, and I was forgotten. It calls to me and I desperately try to answer, but all I can do is fall. A few miles away, I felt the shock of what might have been a small earthquake, making my heart tremble.
I came alive suddenly. The lights came on again. I sat on the floor, staring straight at the pale, buzzing light bulb. I smell chocolate. Jane's snacks. Her face was inches away, peering up close. As soon as I opened my eyes, she moved away to give me space.
"Are you okay, Matt?"
I coughed, trying to clear my suddenly dry and sore throat. "I think so. I'd like a drink."
"Any preferences? No sylva
di
e, but I can get you something stronger if you want. I think mom kept some stuff on the top shelf in the garage. "
I sat up, grateful for the warm, hard exterior of the refrigerator. The pain subsided some and logic and rationality began to return. "Jen, we're underage."
"You're 25, Matt."
"No, I'm eighteen. You're sixteen. Didn't you notice?"
Jane sighed. "Yeah...it's like we never left."
"Yes."
We were both silent for a while. I stood up and rummaged through the cupboards. I found a small bottle of ibuprofen and took out two tablets. After a quick glass of water, I was already feeling better. I sat down at the kitchen table, leaned my head against the wall, and waited for the effects to begin.
"I wish I'd thought of that," Jane muttered.
"Um?"
"painkiller". She held out her hand and I handed her the bottle. "I almost forgot they existed."
"A miracle of modern medicine," I murmured. I close my eyes. The pain is still all too real. My brain tried to be squeezed out of my skull with every violent beat. I heard a car start outside, the sound of the engine blasting through my eardrums like it was coming from inches away.
When I realized this, my eyes opened again.
"Jen, you can't-"
"No. I tried it when I had a migraine. It doesn't work."
She sighed, sat down opposite me, and brought another pair of water glasses. She handed me one from across the table and I gratefully swallowed it. My throat still feels parched and parched, and the water can only go so far.
"I guess that didn't get through." It was a bit of a shock to find out that Jane would never recover. It's so useful. If Jane can't heal us and stop Blake from getting killed in one of his crazy stunts... I'll just have to plan around that limitation.
wait. No, I will not. That part of my life was over. If I could do that, I would never be in a situation again that required her abilities. I wanted to live a peaceful, normal life—no matter what the cost.
"I think it's starting to stop now," she said loudly, swallowing more water. "Are you as thirsty as I am?"
Despite downing the entire glass, my mouth and throat still felt like the surface of a desert. I nodded.
"water?"
"sounds good". I moved my chair back into the corner so I could lean against the wall more comfortably, then bundled my coat up over my shoulders to make a makeshift pillow - just like I'd done a thousand times on the campaign trail That way. "You still look better than me."
Jane shrugged and poured the water back. "Maybe it's just because I slept longer. And I had something to eat."
"snack". I frowned. "You should eat something more substantial."
"Do you know how long it's been since I had chocolate?"
"Yes."
Jane sighed. "Don't be so down, Matt. Let's go home. We have power again. Running water!" Just then, a heavy truck drove by outside. There was a slight rattle from the loose windows in our house. "Car, Matt. Car!" she drew out, each syllable filled with excitement. "Planes, trains, hairdryers. Shampoo. Oh my god, showers. Matt, we have showers again."
"I understand, I understand." I forced a smile. "It's good to be home."
"Here you go." Jane smiled. She drank the rest of the water and exhaled contentedly. “Even the water tastes better.”
"They don't have water filters."
"Well, that's what the Silvers do. Our whole thing, they-"
I interrupted her. "Yeah, they filtered it with magic. You told me." I didn't want to hear it anymore unless I absolutely had to. The sooner we get back to normal, the better. I wanted to accommodate her temporarily, but it couldn't last long.
"Yeah. That's cool," Jen added, returning to the pantry to find another snack. My headaches were gradually diminishing, freeing up more of my conscious brain to process problems.
We can do this. Reintegrate into the world. For a while, it's going to be tricky to remember exactly who we were seven years ago. There were no obvious signs of our trip, but there were a lot of little things we had to be careful of. As far as I could tell, my body was exactly the same as it was the night we left—bland. I felt so weak and small and the muscles I had built disappeared overnight. Still, I remember all the training I received and every battle I bled and died. If I have to fight, I can control myself.
But I didn’t fight with anyone. I had never been in a fight club before we left, and I have absolutely no plans to open one now.
"Pass me some cookies, please?" I asked. Jane threw the box to me and I thumbed through it. She is right. I miss chocolate just as much. That box of cheap cookies tastes like heaven. I ate a third of it and felt hungry with every bite.
Jane poured two glasses of milk and brought them over without being asked. Compared to her reputation as a self-centered blather, the Jen I knew was almost the opposite. She had amazing insights, she just didn't always act on them. We ate in silence, savoring the snacks. Jane kept looking around the room as if she had never seen it before, noticing every detail.
"So," she began, finishing the last cookie.
I nodded. "You're right, we should buy more."
"We have more urgent things to talk about, Matt."
I sighed, resigned to my fate. Better to say it now than later, I thought—but Jane was thinking about something else, not the events of the previous week.
"is this real?"
"Yes."
"How can you be sure?" she asked, squinting at him. "What about when we saw those visions in Helceval?"
"Do you still remember my agreement?"
"Sel
ou. "
"Then you know as well as I do that it's true."
Jane nodded. "Okay, yes. It seems that old woman didn't lie."
"I'm sure you meant witch."
"You don't know her as well as I do," Jane replied with a smile. "So...we're home." Her face was full of melancholy. "……forever."
I dare not contradict her. Luckily, I didn't answer because Jen jumped out of her chair and rushed to the other side of the kitchen. I turned around, confused, to see my home phone light up and about to ring. Just when the ringtone was about to break the silence, Jane picked up the phone.
"This is Carl."
This is another unwelcome development. I mustered up the courage to fight. “Can you turn on speakerphone?”
"Okay, wait a minute." Jane fiddled with her phone. "Bullshit. I don't remember what happened."
"What?"
"It's been a while, okay?" She raised it to her ear. "Hey. Yes, Carl, it's me. Hang in there. Shut up. How do I put it on speakerphone? ...Press...Okay, yeah." She fumbled with a few buttons, and the speaker sounded. The faint white noise filled the kitchen. Jane put the phone on the table. "Matt's here too."
Carl's voice came out from the speaker, very low. He tried not to make too much noise for fear of waking his moody father. "We're still alive."
"No, Carl," Jane said. “Want to get deep?”
"Shut up." Over the phone, I could almost hear him blushing. "Matt, are you there?"
"Here I am." Fear filled my entire mind, like a dam bursting. I knew exactly what was going to happen next.
"Have you two heard from Blake?"
Jane looked at me, her expression serious. She was waiting for my answer.
I shook my head slowly. "Karl..." I started.
"Wait. Hear me out. We haven't changed, right? So,"
A glimmer of hope. I dare not think about it. I worry about what it will look like and that it will soon be extinguished. I had to get the situation under control as quickly as possible.
"Did you call him?"
"He didn't have a cell phone. I called his house once, but no one answered. I didn't want to try again. I didn't want to wake anyone up." Carl was right. Blake's parents are the best couple in the world and I get jealous every time I visit their house - but his dad will never accept being woken up at two in the morning.
"Then that's all we can do now."
"But -" Karl's voice rose slightly and became louder and louder.
"Carl," I interrupted sharply. "Remember where you are. You're eighteen. It's a school night and your dad is sleeping down the hall." I tried to keep my voice as calm as possible. Like so many times before, it worked. When Carl spoke next, his voice was low and subdued.
"Then what should we do?"
"We're going to school. See you at lunch tomorrow, as we always do. Jane, come and sit with us."
Jane nodded. "Okay. Sarah can live without me for one lunch."
"Very good. Carl?"
"Yeah?"
"Cy
aveil does not exist. "
There was silence. I waited, hoping Carl would understand and follow me without hesitation. There is only one way we can get through this without ending up in a mental hospital. We have to reintegrate as if we never left. Absolutely don't tell anyone. I can do it. With some help, Jen might have been able to do the same - but Carl's change was much greater than mine, and in the opposite direction. I'm ready for this challenge. New Cal? If his sword is still there, I'm not sure.
He finally answered. "Understood."
I let out a breath I didn't realize I'd been holding. Jane noticed and looked at me curiously. She said nothing, leaving Carl in the dark.
"Okay. Then we'll see you tomorrow, Carl."
"Tomorrow." Carl admitted. "Hi, Jen. Are you still there?"
"Dove?" Jane leaned over to answer the phone.
"I know I deserve everything." Syldae se vale
Da, how are you now?"
"...Of course, Carl." Jane looked a little embarrassed, but it quickly disappeared. "will do".
"Okay. Tonight, guys." The phone clicked and hung up. As Jen put down her phone, I watched her reaction closely.
"What's going on?" I asked. I had only a vague idea of what Carl was saying. I never learned the language the way he did, only a few useful phrases (and a few insults), and of course neither of us came close to Jane.
"What? Can't a man be friendly and caring about me?" Jane replied.
"Oh, well, forget my request." There was something, but Jane made it clear that I didn't need to know. As long as it doesn't affect us, that's her business.
"So... we're going back to school, right?" Jane changed the subject for me, and I jumped up gratefully.
"Yeah. Just be normal. You never were."
Jane hit me on the shoulder in response. "You can do better."
I laughed. "Give me a few days. I'll bring back all the bad jokes."
Je
Grinning. We already feel back to normal. A few more pushes, and maybe we can slide completely toward worldly perfection. "So, what do you want for dinner tomorrow?"
"I don't know. What do you want to eat?"
I shrugged. "Why don't we go to the grocery store after school and play it by ear? We can get whatever you want." "
"Oh. I might abuse it." Jane's face turned mischievous, but I meant it.
"Swear all you want. This is a special occasion."
"The day the bad jokes come back?"
I laughed again. It feels warm and comforting, like the sun rising out of darkness. I haven't had anything to laugh about in a long time. "Of course, let's do it."
"What the hell are you two doing?" came a muffled voice from the hallway, followed by the click of the front door. Our mother finally walked in, her face seemingly melting with exhaustion. Her eyes were sunken and she was drowsy, leaning against the wall. She dropped her bag on the floor.
"Mom!" Jane jumped up from her seat, rushed over, and hugged her tightly. I stayed where I was, watching them both - but in reality, Jane and I felt the same joy in that moment. I had never thought about hugging her before, but everything was different now.
"What happened?"
"Nothing, Mom," Jane replied. Her face receded and I saw tears welling up in her eyes. "glad to meet you."
"What happened?" Mom opened her eyes wide and became alert and skillful. Even though she was tired, the thought of what might be wrong with her daughter brought her to life. This is a trait I now detect in all three of us, the adrenaline rush and heightened state of consciousness we all master. Mom, like both of us now, can be ready for anything, even on the verge of collapse.
"Nothing happened, Mom," I replied. "We were just waiting for you to come home. I couldn't sleep."
She frowned, but as we both reassured her, her fatigue began to give way to adrenaline. Her eyes dropped again. "Okay, Matthew. If you say so."
"We're fine. I think it's time for everyone to go to bed."
"Come on, Mom," Jane added. "I'll help you upstairs."
"Thank you, Jenny." I forgot that seven years ago Jane was still called Jenny. She had long since decided she hated it. When Jane returned to the hall half-carrying her mother, she turned and gave me a pained look. I grinned.
"Goodnight, Jenny," I called. She rolled her eyes and turned away as they started climbing the stairs.
After finishing the snacks, I tidied up, put away the milk, and threw away the empty box of cookies.
I'm actually looking forward to school tomorrow, even though that sounds crazy before we leave. After all, there are friends I haven’t spoken to in nearly a decade. It will be a little difficult to go back to class. I have a hard time remembering which room they are in, or where my locker is. I have to trust my body memory to guide me to the right spot.
I can do it. I have to do it. The only way I can get my life back on track is if no one knows what happened. Sierraville is in its past, and if I can help it, it's here to stay. Forever.
When I turned off the light and returned to the room, I saw that Jane's light had also gone out. I closed the door, remembering to avoid the clicking sound this time, and crawled back into bed. The fatigue came again. I began to drift off to sleep almost immediately, but a lingering memory resurfaced, keeping me awake and recalling the aftermath.
After we agreed, the witch told me a secret. Something I have always kept deep in my soul and afraid to reveal to anyone. She told me how to get back to Sierraville.
I swear on my life that if I can help it, I will never let any of us see that miserable land again.
