When I woke up, I was seven years younger.

Disorientation can't describe how I felt at the time. My lungs were hissing and I was in dire need of air. I took a deep breath and finally opened my eyes to see the pitch-black ceiling. I sat up and leaned against the wall. Soft sheets wrapped around me, and a pile of pillows supported me. Everything doesn't feel right.

None of this should be here. I shouldn't be here. I felt dizzy. My brain is still trying to integrate, trying to shape everything in front of me into a coherent picture.

It was almost pitch black in the room - my room, I reminded myself. This is my room. The only source of light was a street lamp near the house, peeping in through a window hung with curtains. Long black shadows extend the length of the floor, casting the room into patches of color, highlighting the gaps that fill the nooks and crannies. Everything seemed familiar, as if I had just stumbled out of a dream.

Was it all a dream?

There was a strange feeling in the air, something I hadn't felt in a long time. A faint hum and the crackling of electricity. My computer. A real electronic PC. I forgot about it that night. I was chatting with someone when we left...... Her face swept over my mind, but it was a blurry outline that I couldn't form a complete picture. It's been a lifetime since we last spoke. Maybe there was simply no time, it occurred to me that I had a sudden thought.

I got out of bed and hurried to the computer. As I sat down, the chair spun up. I forgot it still had wheels. I was impatiently tapping the spacebar on my keyboard. It was a cheap machine, a second-hand that I bought from Carl and always took a while to wake up. I haven't even turned it off yet, but I'll have to wait for the disc inside to rumble and the fan to spin again. The monitor let out a sharp crack before finally rejuvenating, the colors fading as the backlight slowly warmed.

Right in the corner of the screen, exactly what I wanted. 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's not my face anymore, it's not what I remember. Suddenly, my arms and legs felt very weak.

Was it all a dream? Nearly a decade of my life's disgusting, horrific and entirely imagined by a random quirk of my brain in one night? All those life-and-death encounters, adventures, betrayals, romances? Campaigns and battles spanning years? Is this possible?

I open the browser window. I'm still trying to remember what the hell we were doing that night. I have to trust that my past self didn't clean up behind me, didn't leave clues for skilled trackers to follow. This time it's an electronic clue, but the basic idea is the same. It's the closest thing I can think of to a record of 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 Serraville Park is still open. I remember it well. I drove us to the truck that my dad left with me on the day he 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 sees out there, we must see as well. Jane eavesdropped downstairs and persuaded me to go.

Then, Blake noticed a shadow flashing through the woods, and we followed.

Blake walked through the woods, and we followed closely. He kept coming back, shouting for us to follow him down a path that only he could see. Just like when we played together, Blake was always ahead of the game. He was always five steps ahead of where he was supposed to be.

When we crossed, he was exactly the same as before, except that he turned it into an advantage. He is always five steps ahead of the enemy and does what others dare not do. I used his madness to win quite a few battles.

How much of this actually happened? How much is true?

More memories flooded my mind, accompanied by the poison of fear. The weight of what I was doing began to weigh on my mind, threatening to crush me completely. I'm going to turn into something terrible. I was forced to make decisions when hundreds, thousands, and thousands of lives hung in the balance. I sacrificed allies and lost friends. I will go to the verge of losing everything, everyone. We managed to escape to the other side. I hated everything I did, I hated the way I was.

Is there a way out?

Here comes the answer. It was so simple and easy that I laughed out loud. I'm home now. I'm safe here. No one is chasing me anymore. Almost no one knew me. No one will know what I did. If I really did it.

In front of me there was a beautiful golden path that I could walk without delay. No regrets. I was finally able to go back to a normal, simple life. Stop fighting. It's just a normal life. I can hang out with my friends, play basketball, and let other people control me. All I have to do is forget.

Just as I was thinking about that, I felt the weight on my shoulders lighten. I closed the map of Serravel on the screen and symbolically wiped it clean. The browser returned to my conversation with a girl in the next tab. She had a stern face, a guarded expression, as if she was always hiding something behind her smile—but there was a friendly wisdom in her eyes, the kind of eyes that beg you to remember every word she says, even if they may be few and far apart. Her voice is warm and passionate, the kind that inspires the military to go to war.

We chatted in the 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 for the courtroom or an impromptu and stirring speech in the heat of battle. I don't know how to talk to people individually.

I shrugged. I'll figure it out. We only spoke to her face a few times, and usually with her friends. I can take things as a joke or let her do the talking. I can get around it.

I'll get around it all. Everything will be back to the way it was. After all, nothing happened last night. My life is very normal. I'm just an average high school student. That's all.

I put the computer back to sleep. I guess I should follow it; After all, I still have to go to school in the morning. After going through all of this, it sounds pretty straightforward. I was almost looking forward to the bland old class. I was just about to jump back into bed when I heard a rustle downstairs. Someone is moving around. I guess my mother came home late from work again. It wasn't strange that she was late, but I suddenly wanted to hug her. I miss her so much.

I've forgotten how cold it is at home, especially late at night in October. I rummaged through the closet looking for my jacket. My favorite jacket. I savored its softness and warmth. This is another thing I have missed for years.

For hours, I reminded myself. It's only been a few hours.

I opened the door, and it rattled in protest, and I winced. If the handle is turned all the time, it will always be like this. I usually remember to stop before turning too far. Just another item on my list that I need to remember. If this continues, I'll have to write them down. I closed the door and headed downstairs, the kitchen lights on.

Walking down the stairs, it felt like a long time. Every step I took was thinking about what I was supposed to say. If I say anything. If I just pretend to come down for a drink, I need an excuse if I haven't slept so late on the night of school. My mom wasn't the kind of person who would get mad at us staying up late. She did her best to feed us, but it was exactly the kind of night I made dinner for the three of us, putting hers in the fridge, no matter how late she came home. I used to hate cleaning up leftovers for her and hated that she couldn't cook around us.

Tonight, I am even more grateful for all that she has done for us all these years. She may be away from home for dinner five nights a week, but what does it matter when she works two full-time jobs a week to keep my sister and me healthy and academic? I don't think I can do it. I learned a lot about cooking over there. At the end of the week, I'm going to treat her to a big dinner, and tonight, I'm going to remind her how great she is.

I turned the corner and instead of my mom, I saw my sister Jennifer's long brown hair, peeking out of the door of the pantry she was rummaging through. When I walked in, she looked up in surprise. Crumbs from the pastry cake fell from her hands and spilled onto the floor. Actually, I managed to sneak up on her.

"Uh...... Hey, Jane," I said awkwardly.

"Hey, Jen? She repeated slowly. "Hey, Jen?" That's all?"

“… Do you want to hear me?"

Je

frowned. "No, but ...... After all this......"

"All of what?"

Jane's mouth opened wide and I noticed that she had a little bit of the same cake on her teeth. I frowned. Her eyes were as wide as a dinner plate. "You...... You don't remember?"

Her words are a sledgehammer. Even though the wall I hastily built began to crumble, I still wanted to deny it all. Even if it was a few more minutes, I wanted to stay in that happiness. "What do you remember?"

"God, Matt. To do every kapavas, vis du

alav。 ”

“Dou

a

a kapavas, Je

。 Ettolin popped out of my mouth uninvited. Jane's insult needs some kind of response. I can't let go. But as her face contorted with satisfaction, I felt the comfortable structures of ignorance that I had hastily built up crumble around me like a crumbling fortress.

If Jane remembers, if she could speak Ettolin, that's true.

Serravel is real.

"That's what I thought too," Jane said smugly. "By the way, your pronunciation still sucks." She picked up the snack from the floor, jumped onto the kitchen counter, and examined it carefully. After a while, she took a bite. Her face lit up. "It tastes fantastic. Matt, we've got to buy another 200. Right now. ”

I leaned against the fridge with my hands over my forehead. A headache began to hit, like a drum in the temples getting louder and louder.

"Headache? She asked.

"Yes."

"How long have you been awake?"

"Just a few minutes. What about you?"

"About half an hour, right?" Don't worry, everything will pass. Yes, it's coming," she added, a huge burst of pain pouring down my brain.

My skull felt like someone had cut it in half repeatedly with a blunt axe. I clutched the handle of the refrigerator door so tightly that I felt like I was going to collapse. My vision was gone, and the kitchen light disappeared into a dark horror. A faint voice followed me down, and the farther and farther I went, and I was forgotten. It was calling to me, and I was desperately trying to answer, but all I could do was fall. A few miles away, I felt the impact of what could have been a small earthquake that made my heart tremble.

I came back to life suddenly. The lights are 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, staring up close. As soon as I opened my eyes, she moved out of the way to give me space.

"Are you alright, Matt?"

I coughed a little, trying to clear my throat, which was suddenly dry and sore. "I think so. I want to have a drink. ”

"Any preference? There is no sylva

di

E, but I can get you something more intense if you want. I think mom put something on the top shelf in the garage. ”

I sat up, thankful for the warm hard exterior of the refrigerator. The pain lessened somewhat, and logic and reason began to return. "Jane, we're underage."

"You're 25 years old, Matt."

"No, I'm eighteen. You're sixteen years old. Didn't you notice?"

Jane sighed. "yes...... It's like we've never left. ”

"Yes."

We were both silent for a while. I stood up and rummaged through the cupboards. I found a vial of ibuprofen and pulled out two pills. Soon after a glass of water, I was already feeling better. I sat down at the kitchen table, resting my head against the wall, waiting for the effects to begin to show.

"I wish I could have thought of that." Jane muttered.

"Huh?"

"Painkillers". She reached out and I handed her the bottle. "I almost forgot they existed."

"The miracle of modern medicine," I murmured. I closed my eyes. The pain is still too real. Every throbbing of my brain wanted to squeeze out of my skull. I heard a car start outside, and the sound of the engine sounded like it was passing through my eardrums from a few inches away.

When I realized this, my eyes opened again.

"Jane, you can't-"

"Nope. I tried it when I had a migraine attack. No way. ”

She sighed, sat down across from me, and brought another pair of glasses. She handed me one from the other side of the table, and I swallowed it gratefully. My throat still felt dry and dry, and that was where the water worked.

"I guess it didn't get through." It was a bit shocking to find out that Jane would never recover again. It's so useful. If Jane can't heal us, it won't stop Blake from dying in those crazy stunts he has...... I can only plan around this limit.

Await. No, I won't. That part of my life was over. If I could do it, I wouldn't be in a situation where I needed her abilities again. I want to live a peaceful, normal life – no matter what it takes.

"I think it's starting to stop now," she exclaimed, swallowing more water. "Are you as thirsty as I am?"

Even though I drank the whole glass, my mouth and throat still felt like the surface of the desert. I nodded.

"Water?"

"Sounds good". I moved my chair back into the corner so I could lean more comfortably against the wall, then tied up my coat, propped it up over my shoulders, and made a makeshift pillow — as I did a thousand times on the campaign. "You still look better than I am."

Jane shrugged her shoulders and poured water back. "Maybe it's just because I'm sleeping longer. I also have something to eat. ”

"Snacks". I frowned. "You should eat something more substantial."

"Do you know how long it's been since I've eaten chocolate?"

"Yes."

Jane sighed. "Don't be so frustrated, Matt. Let's go home. We're powered up again. Tap water!" Just then, a heavy truck drove by. There was a slight rattle from the loose windows of our house. "Car, Matt. Cars!" She stretched out the words, each syllable filled with excitement. "Planes, trains, hair dryers. Shampoo. Oh my God, showers. Matt, we've got another shower. ”

"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 a water filter."

"Well, that's what the Silver family did. We're the whole thing, they're-"

I interrupted her. "Yes, they filtered it with magic. You told me. "I don't want to hear it anymore unless I have to. The sooner we get back to normal, the better. I want to accommodate her temporarily, but not for long.

"Yes. That's cool," Jen added, back to the pantry to find another snack. My headaches are gradually lessening, freeing up more conscious brains to deal with problems.

We can do that. Reintegrate into the world. For a while, it can be tricky to remember exactly who we were seven years ago. There were no obvious traces of our trip, but there were a lot of little things that we had to be careful with. As far as I can tell, my body was exactly the same as the night we left – plain. I felt so weak and small that the muscles I had built disappeared overnight. Still, I remember all the training I received and every battle I fought with my blood. If I have to fight, I can control myself.

I didn't get into a fight, though. I had never been to a fight club before we left, and I definitely have absolutely no intention of opening one right now.

"Hand me some cookies, okay?" I asked. Jane tossed the box to me and I flipped through it. She was right. I miss chocolate too. That box of cheap cookies tasted like heaven. I ate a third of it and felt hungry with every bite.

Jane poured two glasses of milk, and brought it to her without anyone inviting her. Compared to her reputation for self-centered chatter, Jane I knew was almost the opposite. She has amazing insight, but she just doesn't always put it into action. We ate in silence and savored our snacks. Jane kept looking around the room as if she had never seen it before, paying attention to every detail.

"So," she began, finishing the last cookie.

I nodded. "You're right, we should buy more."

"There's more urgent business to talk about, Matt."

I sighed and resigned myself to fate. It's better to say it now than later, I think—but Jane's mind wasn't about what had happened last week, but about something else.

"Is this true?"

"Yes."

"How can you be sure?" She asked, her eyes squinting at him. "And what about when we saw those visions in Hersival?"

"Do you remember my promise?"

“Sel

ou。 ”

"Then you know as well as I do, it's true."

Jane nodded. "Well, yes. It seems that the old woman did not lie. ”

"I'm sure you're talking about witches."

"You don't know her as well as I do," Jen replied with a smile. "So...... We're home. She had a melancholy look on her face. …… Forever. ”

I didn't dare to contradict her. Luckily, I didn't answer because Jane jumped up from her chair and rushed to the other side of the kitchen. I turned around, confused, and saw that the phone at home was lit up and about to ring. Just as the ringtone was about to break the silence, Jen picked up her phone.

"This is Carl."

This is another undesirable development. I plucked up the courage to prepare for the confrontation. "Can you turn on hands-free?"

"Okay, wait a minute." Jane fiddled with her phone. "Nonsense. I don't remember what it was. ”

"What?"

"I haven't seen you in a while, okay?" She held it up to her ear. "Hey. Yes, Carl, it's me. Keep at it. Shut up. How do I turn on a hands-free ?... Press ...... Okay, yes. She fumbled for a few buttons, and the faint white noise from the phone horn filled the kitchen. Jane put the phone on the table. "Matt is here too."

Carl's voice came out of the speakers, very low. He tries to avoid making too much noise so as not to wake up his moody father. "We're alive."

"No, Carl," said Jane. "Want to be deep?"

"Shut up." Over the phone, I could almost hear his face turn red. "Matt, are you there?"

"I'm here." Fear filled my whole mind, like a dam bursting suddenly. I know exactly what will happen next.

"Do you two have any news from Blake?"

Jane looked at me with a serious expression. She was waiting for me to answer.

I shook my head slowly. "Carl......" I spoke.

"Wait. Hear me out. We haven't changed, have we? So,"

A glimmer of hope. I don't dare to think about it. I'm worried about what it will look like, and I'm worried that it's going to be extinguished soon. I have to get the situation under control as soon as possible.

"Did you call him?"

"He doesn't have a cell phone. I called his house once, but no one answered. I don't want to try again. I don't want to wake anyone. "Carl was right. Blake's parents are one of the best couples in the world, and every time I go to their house, I'm jealous of them — but his dad would never accept being woken up at two in the morning.

"Then that's all we have to do now."

"But—" Karl's voice rose slightly, getting louder and louder.

"Carl," I interrupted him sharply. "Remember where you are. You are eighteen years old. It's school night, and your dad is sleeping on the other side of the hallway. "I try to calm my voice as much as possible. Like so many times before, it worked. Carl continued, his voice low and muffled.

"So what are we going to do?"

"We go to school. See you tomorrow at lunch, we've always been like that. Jane, come and sit with us. ”

Jane nodded. "Okay. Sara could have survived without me for a lunch. ”

"Good. Carl?"

"Really?"

“Cy

Aveil does not exist. ”

There was silence. I waited, hoping that Carl would understand and follow me without hesitation. There is only one way to get through this without being locked up in a mental hospital. We have to reintegrate as if we never left. Never tell anyone. I can do it. With the help of some, Jen might be able to do that as well – but Carl is changing much more than I do, and in the opposite direction. I'm ready for such a challenge. The new Karl? If his sword is still there, I'm not sure.

He finally answered. "Understood."

I exhaled, and I didn't realize I had been holding back. Jane noticed and looked at me curiously. She didn't say anything, 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's that going?"

“… Carl, of course. "Jane looked a little embarrassed, but it quickly disappeared." will do".

"Okay. In the evening, guys. The phone clicked and hung up. As Jane put her phone down, I watched her reaction.

"What's going on?" I asked. I have only a vague idea of what Carl said. I've 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 for me at the same time?" Jane replied.

"Oh, well, forget my request." There are some things, but Jane says it so clearly that I don't need to know. As long as it doesn't affect us, that's her business.

"So...... We're going back to school, aren't we?" Jane changed the subject for me, and I jumped gratefully.

"Yes. Just be normal. You never were. ”

Jane slapped 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've felt back to normal. With a few more nudges, maybe we can slide completely into the perfect world. "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 do what happens?" We can buy whatever you want. ”

"Oh. I might abuse it. Jane's face became mischievous, but I was telling the truth.

"Whatever you want. It was a special occasion. ”

"The day the bad jokes come back?"

I laughed again. It makes people feel warm and comforted, like the sun rising from the darkness. For a long time, I didn't have anything to laugh about. "Of course, let's do it."

"What the hell are you two doing?" There was a faint sound in the hallway, followed by the front door shut. Our mother finally walked in, her face seemed to melt with exhaustion. Her eyes were sunken and lethargic, and she leaned against the wall. She dropped the 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 fact, Jane and I felt the same joy in that moment. I never thought about hugging her before, but now everything is different.

"What's going on?"

"Nothing, Mom," replied Jane. Her face shrank back, and I saw tears welling up in her eyes. "I'm glad to meet you."

"Did something happen?" Mom's eyes widened and she became alert and skilled. Even though she was tired, she came back to life just thinking that something might be wrong with her daughter. This is a trait that I now find in the three of us, the adrenaline rush and the heightened state of consciousness that we all grasp. Mom, just like the two of us now, can be ready to face anything, even on the verge of collapse.

"Nothing happened, Mom," I replied. "We're just waiting for you to come home. I can't sleep. ”

She frowned, but with the comfort of both of us, her fatigue began to be replaced by adrenaline. Her eyes drooped again. "Okay, Matthew. Since you say so. ”

"We were fine. I think it's time for everyone to sleep. ”

"Come on, Mom," Jane added. "I'll help you upstairs."

"Thank you, Jenny." I forgot, seven years ago Jane was called Jenny. She had long since decided that she hated it. When Jane half-carried her mother back to the hall, she turned around and gave me a painful look. I grinned.

"Good night, Jenny." I shouted. She rolled her eyes, and when they started climbing the stairs, she turned away.

After my snack, I cleaned up, put the milk away, and threw away the empty box of cookies.

I'm actually looking forward to school life tomorrow, even though it 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 get back into class. I had a hard time remembering which room they were in, or where my locker was. I have to trust that my body's memory will guide me to the right place.

I can do it. I had to do it. The only way I can get my life back on track is if no one knows what's going on. Serravel is in the past, and if I can help it, it will stay there. Forever.

When I turned off the lights and returned to the room, I saw that Jane's lights had also gone out. I closed the door, remembering to avoid the clicking sound this time and crawled back into bed. Exhaustion comes again. I began to fall asleep in a daze almost immediately, but a lingering memory surfaced and kept me awake, reminiscing about the aftermath.

After we agreed, the witch told me a secret. Something I've been hiding deep in my soul and afraid to reveal to anyone. She told me how to get back to Serraville.

I swear with my life that if I had the means, I would never let any of us see that miserable land again.