Chapter 1 : August Skyline
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Suddenly, you are not where you should be. You are flying, back flat against the sun blazing softly up above. But you do not have the recollection of ever having wings. You have not a care in the world. You don’t need an explanation for being here. You just are. You feel the excitement bubbling forth from your very being, and you laugh joyously before the sound is jerked away from you. You are falling. You are screaming. You cannot control it.
You are home, and you smile, expecting to meet your mother and father there. You expect to hear the shuffling of paper, the thud of books as they are rifled through. You expect to find Dad writing furiously on parchment, quill in hand. You expect to find Mum focusing on another of her genius spells, brow furrowed in concentration but glowing with happiness and triumph all the same. Like clockwork, they were always there. It was expected. But something is wrong. The house, silent and still, sends uncontrollable chills down the length of your spine. A bright, blinding flash of light consumes your vision.
Someone is shaking you gently, calling your name through the silence. “Luna? Luna are you alright?” Rolf’s familiar voice calms you instantly, yet you realize only then that you were trembling all over, your breathing mere gasps of air. You turn and find his crystal blue eyes gazing concernedly into your own. You manage a small smile, as if to reassure him. But you are not sure yourself. You struggle to say the words because you cannot define the truth or the fiction within them.
“Yes.” You feebly manage this simple utterance, a soft whisper in the silence. “Yes. I’m fine.”
But your voice shakes under the strain. The truth, desperate to come out, is held back by something indefinable. You remember the dream. You remember the memory. And it consumes your vision once again. The tears escape and trail down your face without warning. Rolf sighs helplessly, and wraps his arms around you. He brings you close, comforting you instinctively.
The dream manifests itself every time you shut your eyes. Always the same memory, only in different forms. You hate witnessing it over and over because you thought it was deep within your past. You hadn’t forgotten, would never forget it. You had simply healed from the deep wound it had caused. But relieving it brought back the pain of having watched your mother die.
You tell yourself the same thoughts, give the same reasoning that might help stray you from the memory of it. You cannot live the memory forever. Otherwise, the memory will consume you. It will be everything about you. One day, it will become you. It was logical. It made sense. That did not mean that the pain hurt any less.
You bury your head into the place between his shoulder and his neck. Rolf runs his fingers through your waves of dirty blonde to soothe your pain. You feel it ebbing away as you focus on him keeping you safe in his arms. Thoughts of the dream fade slowly from your mind, and you simply lay there.
The sun peeks above the line between sky and earth. Its light shines through the glass panes into the room. It reveals the pictures of you and Rolf, the papers noted with your studies of the magical creatures of the earth, of a room filled with memories. Your skin glows with the warmth of the light. You stare at its splendor for a moment. Rolf looks curiously between you and the window for a moment. You look back at him and smile genuinely. He smiles back, mirroring your own. The fear has disappeared entirely, and you are left with only happiness.
You fully realize at that instance that this memory is real. It is not a creation of your subconscious. He is here. With you. And you will never forget this memory. Because if memories really do become you, this is the one you want to be.
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