Lauren stared at them, disbelief etched in every line of her face, which had pillow marks across it. Her eyes were red and puffy and her hair, usually sleek and shining, looked as if she had narrowly escaped a battle with a weed whacker.

“What are you talking about?” She sounded more impatient than surprised, as if she thought they were merely playing some kind of practical joke. “That doesn’t make any sense. I was out for a few hours, that’s all.”

“They’re telling the truth, Lauren,” said Mr. Combs. Tim thought he would have been relieved to see his daughter awake at last, but if anything he actually looked more concerned. “What happened when you went to sleep? Did you feel any drowsiness? Have you been fatigued lately?”

“No!” Lauren said, ripping off her covers and standing up so fast that nearly everyone jumped. Sytris was the only outlier. He didn’t look surprised in the slightest, but instead was watching her with a shrewd look on his face. “I said this isn’t funny, guys.”

“If I may, Lady Mnemosyne,” Sytris said. “There is a very simple solution to prove that we are not joking. What day was it when you went to bed?” Lauren rolled her eyes but he held up his hand. “Humour me. Please.”

“It was Tuesday, as I’m sure you all know.”

Struck by a sudden thought, Tim pulled out his phone, opened the lock screen and held it out to her. She peered at it with a measure of reluctance, then her brow furrowed. Her anger dissipated almost instantly, replaced by confusion.

“Friday? But that’s… No, that’s — that’s not possible. I was only out for a few hours, I swear.”

“And what happened during that time?” Sytris asked. “Were you dreaming or —?”

“No. At least not the whole time. It started as a dream and then it kind of changed. I was reliving old memories, things I forgot about a long time ago.”

“Reliving them?” Sytris said, with an uncharacteristic sharpness to his tone. “How so?”

“It was like I was inside a movie. I could see my younger self and everyone else in the memories, talking and moving around, but none of them could see me. I could touch them though, even though they didn’t notice. And something weird happened whenever I did. At first all the memories were black and white, but the instant I made contact with something it changed colour.”

“Well it definitely sounds like it has something to do with your powers,” added Jonathan.

“But to be trapped in your own memories for over 48 hours…” Mr. Combs looked horrified at the thought. “And without even realizing it. Has anything like this happened before, Lauren?”

“Not that I can remember.”

“We can’t risk something like this happening again. What if it’s four days next time, or what if you don’t wake up at all? Sytris, I think we should take a deeper look into this.”

To Tim’s immense surprise, Sytris actually shook his head. “I’m not so sure. If your powers are the reason you were out of commission for the last two days, then I don’t think it’s wise to try to tap into them again so soon.”

“On the contrary, I think that’s exactly what we should be doing,” Mr. Combs said, looking as if he couldn’t believe his ears. “And well past time too. You’ve started working with everyone else, why shouldn’t you start with Lauren too? None of the other children are at risk of falling into comas because of their abilities, are they?”

“Lady Mnemosyne’s powers are based in the mind, which means they will be much more difficult to control than anyone else’s under this roof. If we are to start training it will have to be under carefully controlled circumstances, to prevent anything like this from happening in a wider scale.”

Her father was about to respond, but Lauren, who had sank onto her bed, stood up once more. “Dad, it’s fine. It doesn’t matter anyway.”

“But it should!” he said furiously. “You shouldn’t have to be anyone’s second priority!”

“And she won’t be. But everything takes time. Lady Mnemosyne will have her —”

“Her name is Lauren!” her father said even more loudly.

“That’s enough!” snapped Lauren. “Please, can everyone just go. I’d like to be by myself right now.”

There was a very short, charged silence. Finally Sytris bowed.

“Of course Milady. In the meantime, I shall do a bit of research to determine the most efficient method of helping you. I’ll have to leave but I should be back in a few hours.”

They filed out of Lauren’s room, which she shut with a snap behind them. Mr. Combs gave Sytris one last withering look and stormed away. Ignoring this, Sytris nodded to the three boys and swept away. All three began to walk in the same direction, though much more slowly than he had. Silence pervaded the corridor for a while, then Tim spoke.

“Can you make anything of this? Getting trapped in memories?”

“I don’t know what to make of anything anymore,” Jonathan said, rubbing his eye. “But I don’t see why he doesn’t want to start training her, especially after what happened.”

“Well, seeing as he’s the only one in this house with experience in the supernatural, I’d say he has the best judgment in this situation right?”

“Except he’s not. Oscar managed to learn what he could do all on his own, and he helped me figure out how my abilities work too.”

“I don’t think shooting you up with laughing gas is what anyone would call an efficient method,” said Tim. “No offense,” he added to Oscar, who shrugged and flashed a toothy grin.

“I’d say the best method is anything that gives you the results you want, little brother.”

“The point,” Jon said, with a huff of irritation, “is that maybe he doesn’t know everything he thinks he does.” He came to a halt. “Or,” he added after a dramatic pause, “maybe he knows more than he’s letting on.”

Tim frowned at him, then exchanged a look with Oscar, who looked equally as bewildered. “What are you talking about?”

“Ever since we’ve met him, something’s bugged me. I can’t put my finger on what exactly but… I don’t like him.”

“I mean, he’s not my favourite person either but —”

“No no. That’s not what I mean. I —” Jon paused once more, glancing around as if to make sure no one was eavesdropping. Then he leaned in conspiratorially and whispered, “I don’t trust him. There’s something off about him.”

“Like what?” Tim asked, utterly dumbfounded.

“I’m not sure. But I get a really bad feeling from him.”

“That’s all?”

“Yeah, frustrating isn’t it?” Jonathan gave him a very pointed look and Tim held up his arms in surrender.

“Okay, okay. I get the picture. But what do you think he might be hiding? He’s our birth parents’ servant right? He’s following their instructions and he holds them in high regard.”

“Disturbingly high regard, in fact,” Oscar added.

“Exactly. Even though he vetted and hand-picked the couples he wanted to raise us, he doesn’t even entertain the idea of calling them our parents. He’s trying to convince them to leave the house, and he doesn’t even call us by our real names. He’s completely latched on to the past and ignores the lives we’ve built in the present.”

Tim paused, taking it all in and turning it over in his mind. Jon had good points but he couldn’t see why there would be a malicious reason why Sytris held his current views.

“Okay, let’s say you’re right and there’s more to the story. What then? He clearly doesn’t want to hurt us. He’s had every opportunity, and he flips out every time we even think about leaving the house.”

“I don’t know the why. I just think there’s more to the story.”

“Okay, so how do we get the rest of the story?” Oscar asked.

Jon placed his hand on his chin for a moment and considered. For a moment Tim actually believed he might have come up with an amazing idea. Then he said, “Not a clue” and the glow of hope inside him died instantly. “I just wish we could remember, then we could know exactly what kind of person he is. But he made Lauren remove our memories, and she doesn’t know how to restore them because he’s conveniently pushing her training as far back as he can go.”

“You don’t think that’s on purpose, do you?” Tim said. This conspiracy was getting worse and worse with every passing minute.

“Think about it. His excuse is that Haley and I pose an immediate threat, so we need the most attention. But aside from a minor mishap with the oven I haven’t had any issues for the last few days, and Haley barely leaves her room except for training. So where’s the danger?”

Tim held up his hands. There was only so much he could handle in a given day and he felt as if he had actually exceeded his quota already. “Let’s just slow down for a moment. We don’t have proof of anything, remember? It’s all just a hunch.”

“You’re right,” Jon said. But Tim wasn’t reassured; there was a glint in his brother’s eyes that he didn’t like at all. “We need to find proof.”

“No, no that’s not what I —”

But he wasn’t listening. A look of resolve on his face, Jon turned and headed down the rightward corridor, which led, if memory served correctly, down to Sytris’s quarters. Tim looked at Oscar for help, but he merely shrugged again, eyebrows raised. The pair followed.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

“What are you doing? Please don’t tell me you’re going to try to go through his things.”

“Okay, I won’t tell you. But only because you asked.”

“No! That’s a major invasion of privacy. And what if he finds out?”

“You’re so doom and gloom all the time. How are we even related?”

“I’m serious, Jon. I —”

A door opened behind them and they jumped. Haley’s face emerged from the room; her hair was messy and her eyes were as red as Lauren’s, but for very different reasons.

“Hey Haley,” Jon said, in a strangely soft tone. “How are you doing?”

“I feel like crap,” she said, managing a wan smile. “But thanks for asking. How’s Lauren? Is she —?”

“Awake at last. Didn’t believe us at first though, when we told her what happened.”

“That’s good. Did you find out what happened to her?”

“Turns out she was trapped inside her own memories the whole time.” Haley’s eyebrows furrowed. “Yeah, it’s weird. But she’s okay now.”

Haley nodded. Tim thought she was going to ask more questions about Lauren’s condition, but instead she said, “Are you three seriously planning to raid Sytris’s room?”

They exchanged looks of surprise.

“How did you know that?”

“As the goddess of nature, I can detect sounds through vibrations in the ground.”

“Really?” Tim said, amazed.

“No, I heard you talking, meathead. You guys are terrible whisperers.”

“We weren’t actually planning to —”

“Yes we were,” Jon spoke over him, elbowing him in the side. “Just to find out more about what’s going on. He’s supposed to be our caretaker and we don’t know anything about him, we have a right to know. Is that going to be a problem?”

“That depends,” Haley said with a shrewd look. “Can I come with?”

Jon looked taken aback for only a second. “Well — yeah. But are you sure? I mean…”

“I’m sure. Crying in your room for days on end is fun and all but it does get old after a while. A good destruction of privacy is just what I need to get my mind off things.”

“I don’t think this is a good idea,” Tim said stubbornly.

Jonathan scoffed, then flashed a mischievous grin. “I knew it. He’s chicken.”

“I am not chicken. If anything I’m an owl. You know, wise and thoughtful.”

“Yeah, okay. Let’s go.”

He grabbed hold of Tim’s shoulders and steered him down the opposite direction.

Timothy’s feeble protests were completely ignored as Jon led the way down the remainder of the hall, still firmly clamping onto his shoulders, with Haley and Oscar in tow. Despite his objections, a very small part of him was actually intrigued to see what they would find. Even though this was a massive overstep and an invasion of Sytris’s boundaries, it was as Jon said: they didn’t know anything about him, and he clearly didn’t like to speak of the past.

Eventually they came to a halt, just outside a door that looked as ordinary as the others they had passed. Or as “ordinary” as one could be in a resplendent mansion. It had a classic but elegant design, made of a strip of gleaming mahogany and complete with a knocker in the shape of a swan.

Jon reached for the handle and gave it a very slight push. It creaked forward, just an inch.

“Huh, I thought he would have locked it.”

“Or maybe he left it open because he trusted his house-mates enough to not pry through his stuff,” Tim hissed.

Jon heaved a huge fake sigh. “You know what, Timothy. You’re right. We shouldn’t be doing this, let’s go back and — ah look at that, door’s already open, too late.” With a mischievous smirk on his face, he ushered them into the room. Haley and Oscar entered at once, and after a moment of indecision so did Tim.

His first emotion was of disappointment. He wasn’t sure why, but he had expected the room of a centuries-old immortal to be more… exciting.

The room wasn’t just plain, it was almost completely bare. There was a bed draped in lavender sheets and a large dresser sparingly lined with basic utensils like brushes and combs. But aside from that there was nothing else of value in the room. The four spread out, looking for anything of merit. Falling to her knees, Haley peered underneath the bed and after a brief examination pulled out an ornate chest with multiple keyholes. This, however, was actually locked. Meanwhile Tim scanned the walls and his eyes landed on an intricate, wall-length, gold-framed mirror on the opposite corner.

Out of sheer curiosity he moved in front of it, expecting to see his pale, hazel-eyed reflection staring back at him. He received quite a surprise to see that no reflection came.

In fact, nothing at all was shown in the mirror. It remained completely blank, as if the material was non-reflective. Tim waved at the mirror experimentally, but still nothing appeared on its surface.

“No use, it’s not budging,” Jonathan’s voice said. Tim turned to see him still struggling fruitlessly with the chest. “Anyone see a key anywhere?”

“No, but check out this weird mirror.”

They gathered around him. Tim saw identical looks of confusion dawn across their faces as they came to the same conclusion he had. Just like Tim, Jon waved his hand vigorously in front of the glass, but the surface remained blank and unrelenting.

“Kind of defeats the purpose of a mirror, don’t you think?”

Haley stepped forward, squinting at it. “Have you noticed the fingerprints on here?”

Tim had to readjust his glasses and squint at the mirror before he noticed what she meant. There was a set of fingerprints smudged across the center.

“Kind of bizarre.” Haley reached out a hand and laid her fingers on the glass. “It’s warm,” she said, sounding even more confused now. “What kind of mirror is —” She recoiled with a gasp. A flicker of light had run through the mirror, and now bright purple gas was swirling across the surface… Or under the surface, more like. It was coiling and undulating like a band of thick purple snakes.

“Great, you broke it,” Jon said. Haley stared daggers at him, but returned her attention immediately to the mirror.

The smoke was now taking shape, forming a large circle.

Tim stared at it with deepening apprehension. “Okay, you’ve looked enough. I think we should go.”

“You know, I actually think he’s right this time,” Jon chimed in.

Haley raised her eyebrows at them, a smirk on her lips. “So you’re both chickens. Good to know. And here I thought you wanted the rest of the story.” She sighed heavily. “Oh well, if you don’t want to go on move to the back of the class, will you?”

They stepped back at once and she moved forward. Haley touched the mirror once more, but this time her hand went straight through the surface, as if it was nothing but a vat of water. She remained like that for a mere second, then as if something had yanked her arm from the other side she suddenly fell through the mirror and disappeared completely. Jon, Oscar and Tim all let out yells of panic but quickly stifled the noise so as not to attract further attention.

“Where’d she go?” Tim demanded.

“How should we know —”

But making them all yell again, Haley’s head suddenly poked its head through the mirror.

“You guys need to see this. Come on, you’ll be fine.”

And she sank through the mirror once more. Despite every cell in his body screaming in protest, Tim followed suit. He laid his fingers upon the surface of the mirror; like Haley had said it was warm, but at the same time there was an underlying feeling of cold, like a block of ice. He closed his eyes and moved forward until the cold enveloped the entirety of his body. Tim felt a rather curious sensation, as if he had plunged into an ice bath — then the feeling vanished.

Tim opened his eyes and realized that Sytris’s room had disappeared. Instead of the bare, cream-coloured walls was a large and lonely-looking room composed of dark grey stone. The gigantic mirror was behind him, but the frame had changed from gold to silver now.

In front of him the walls seemed to stretch on endlessly, as if there was no end to this room. All across the floor he could see blocks of what looked like strange metals, half-finished weapons, and a gigantic fireplace littered with burnt-out coals.

“It looks like a blacksmith’s forge,” said Jon, who had appeared beside him.

“Not really big on light bulbs though, were they?” Oscar asked, squinting around.

Even in the dimness Tim could make out the excitement on Jon’s face.

“Ooh, hold on.” He held up his arms, his face screwed up in an expression of great concentration. There was a minute pause, then light slowly began to seep from his palms, like a very weak flashlight. The light became steadily stronger, throwing the room into sharp relief. Now they could actually make out carvings along the walls.

“Congratulations, you’re a human glowstick.” Oscar cuffed him gently on the shoulder, grinning. Jon gave him a nasty look but didn’t respond, and instead held his arms further apart, pointing at both walls for a better look.

Tim approached the nearest carving. It depicted a heavily bearded man being presented with a spear. Beside it another carving illustrated what looked like the crafting of a large chalice.

“So he’s a godly metalworker? That’s his deep dark secret?” Jon said in a tone of deep disappointment.

Oscar, who was examining the remnants of what looked like an axe, said, “I think it’s cool. Everyone has a hobby.”

“I don’t.”

“Well you should,” Oscar said conversationally. “Help you work through all that pent-up rage.”

“’Pent-up’… I don’t have anger issues.”

Tim was about to laugh, but then realized that Jon was being serious. He caught Haley’s eye and quickly turned away, coughing.

“I’m serious!” he said heatedly.

“You’re right, must have confused you with the other Jonathan Whitmore I know.”

While Jon and Oscar continued their conversation, Tim looked around. The forge looked as if it hadn’t been used in years. There was a layer of dust on every surface, and he could hear something scuttling around in the unseen parts of the room. Rats, probably.

“Guys, take a look at this,” Haley called. Tim made his way to her side, weaving around all the clutter. She was looking up at a carving more detailed than the others they had seen so far. It was so intricately designed that it looked more like a drawing. It featured a man and woman surrounded by five children, with another man standing a few inches to the side, all of whom looked vaguely familiar.

“Is this… supposed to be us?” Tim asked.

But even as the words left his mouth the realization settled in. There were three boys and two girls, one of which was wearing a wreath of flowers in her hair. One of the boys seemed to be running towards the edge of the carving, with trails of wind behind him, and another was flying just above the father’s head, who was trying to catch him. The other two remained at their parents’s side, taller than any of the others.

“I suppose it is,” said Oscar. “Pretty obvious who’s who. But — is this one flying?”

The child running away with a blaze of wind extending behind him was clearly Tim himself. The tallest of the three was obviously Oscar, which meant the one trying to float away was Jon. He looked delighted, though the carving of the father’s face looked rather weary as he tried to catch the runaway, as if this was a common occurrence.

“I had no idea you could fly,” Tim said to Jon, who looked dumbstruck.

“Neither did it. Can’t believe he took the memory of how to do it from me. Flight is one of the best superpowers to have!”

Tim stifled a laugh. “Well you know, until you relearn how to do it I can always superspeed you wherever you need to go.”

“Don’t patronize me, Bryant,” said Jon, jabbing a finger threateningly at him.

“Kinda sad Lauren isn’t here to see this,” Haley said, rubbing her finger against the carving of the girl wearing a floral wreath.

“We can bring her next time,” Tim said.

“You mean you’re planning to sneak into the caretaker’s room again?” Jon said slyly. “Seems our bad influence is finally paying off.”

“Indeed it does.” Oscar sniffled and wiped a fake tear from his face. “I’ve never been more proud.”

“Oh shut up, both of you.”

Oscar returned his attention to the portrait and smiled. “That is one happy-looking family though.”

Tim smiled too. So did Jon. Haley elbowed Oscar in the ribs and said, “Don’t get all sentimental on me now,” but she was smiling too. She took a great shuddering breath and said, “Okay, I think I’m going to head back over.”

“Hot date?” asked Jon, winking.

“No, I think… I think I’m ready to see my parents. Anyone care to join?”

“Anything you need,” said Tim.

“My pleasure,” Oscar added.

Jonathan hesitated for just a moment, but then he said, “Sure. Sytris isn’t going to like it though.”

“That’s a shame, too bad I don’t care.” Haley turned and began to lead the way back towards the mirror, Oscar and Jon in tow. Tim began to follow, but stopped, looking up at the carving once more. He took in their smiling faces, particularly those of his parents. He felt himself smiling too, then he pulled out his phone and snapped a picture, as clear as he could make it. Then he turned and followed them through the mirror.