Day 1

I sat up in bed, my greasy hair falling in my face. I looked around and found my ribbon in bed, in the same spot it had been that first morning in the city. 'How did I get here?' I thought, patting my body to check if I was in a dream. I had been at the end. I had failed, one last time, and even my last spell had misfired. But... the room I was in was intact. There was no wreckage. Nothing had even been knocked off the wall. It shouldn't have been untouched, not in the middle of the cataclysm I had witnessed.

I hadn't gone back, either. I had been waiting for everything to go dark. For whatever effects the other spell had to give me some peace. Instead, I woke up in bed. I wasn't a fool. Not of that kind, in any case. The impossible explanation did occur to me, but I couldn't quite believe it until I saw it. I didn't even notice that I didn't need to count myself out of bed. I forgot my hair was still down. I rushed down the stairs, into the tavern below.

The old stairs creaked under my hurried descent and I burst into the open space like I was in a house on fire. Eyes locked on me from all around the room. "Rise and shine, Mars" Livia called to me, a friendly smirk on her face. "What's the panic about?" I put my hand to my mouth and took a deep breath through my nose. It was true. I knew my spell had created something... I didn't understand when it collided with the other one. I remembered the intense regret I had felt as the spells twisted together. The desire to go back. I had poured those emotions into it, but I didn't think I was the only one.

They had been there when my magic joined the other caster's. They were the core of it. The goal of it. They called my spell into the other and, somehow, created this. I had gone back. Not far enough. It wasn't powerful enough to help Camilla. But it was enough to help this city. It wasn't too late anymore. I felt warmth flooding through my veins as I realized. All the people in the room were alive because of me. I had given them their lives back. I had made a difference and actually helped people. It was a feeling that had bid me farewell long ago and I never expected to see again.

But it was there. Tears ran down my face. I was... happy? Relieved? I didn't know, but it was a hot bath on a cloudy day. Energy flooded through my veins, and the warm tears were gold running down my cheeks. Looking back, I think this was the moment I started to really change. It wasn't a feeble hope of change. It wasn't self-loathing or guilt. When I looked back at my final moments, when the spell was tearing the world down around me, I realized the weakest part of me had won. There was no one left besides me and the other mage, and I still fought. I didn't leave my head in the water, and it wasn't because I owed it to Camilla.

It wasn't even because I owed it to the people of the city. I rationalized, and I criticized as I always did. But this spell, another mage's aura or not, was beyond what I could achieve out of guilt alone. Even as I stood in the tavern, crying at the sight of the people I had somehow saved, I didn't understand. But when I cast that spell, I wanted to live, and I wanted to live for myself. Of course, in the moment all I understood was that I had saved people. People were alive because of me, and I had changed the world for the better.

So I cried, and Livia's face turned from a mask of nonchalance to shock, then concern. "Are you alright?" she asked, throwing her rag onto the counter and coming out to meet me. I held up my hand to waylay her and wiped my tears with my other sleeve.

"I'm fine, sorry. I'm happy, I think. I've just... had a bad week," I explained and she paused, then nodded.

"Needed a good cry, did you? Well, can't say I haven't been there. Why don't you take a seat while you do it though, I'll make some breakfast," she offers.

"No, I have to..." I trailed off, then remembered how ill I had gotten from hunger the first time around. "That would be nice, thank you," I agreed before sitting down. Everything was so surreal as I sat down to eat a breakfast I had already ignored. It was... delicious. I suppose a lot of things are better when you don't want them to be bad. As I was chewing, a thought occurred to me. Marcus was there, so I had gone back more than a day. Based on the crowd I may have gone even further than that. "How long have I been staying here?" I asked, eliciting a concerned look from Livia.

"What do you mean by that?" Marcus queried from beside me. "How much did you drink last night exactly?" I shrugged.

"I uh... lost track of time," I answered before groaning internally at the accidental joke.

"Just checked in last night," Livia replied, "might be you need a little more sleep, though." I ignored the suggestion as I considered the implications of her answer. It was the first day. I had turned the clock back three entire days. A spell like that shouldn't have been possible. Not just for me, but for anyone. The amount of power that would take would astonish Aethon himself. So how had I done it? That line of thought was interrupted as something else occurred to me.

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It was the first day. I was still in bed, for hours after that point on my first round through. Which meant... Hadley. I didn't know when he had died the first time, but the guards hadn't found him yet. He could still have been alive. As that dawned on me, I choked down a mouthful of eggs and hurriedly paid Livia. "I have to go, sorry," I suddenly announced before nearly flying out the door. She must have thought I was mad, all things considered. But it didn't matter, I had to get to Hadley.

I didn't know if I could stop the Quiet. But I had to try. And I had to ask about Camilla. I barely took in the sights around me as I rushed to the garden. The children playing in the streets, the bustling marketplace, the run-down houses, the dirty cobblestone roads, and the swinging garden gate were all a blur. They didn't matter, not in that moment. All that mattered was the little house with too many plants. I was winded when I made it to Hadley's door. I stood in front of it, gasping for breath.

Something tickled my mind. Like a misspelled word in a long letter. Something didn't fit, but it didn't matter enough to go looking for it. My hand shook as I lifted one fist to knock. I was still nervous. Still afraid of failure. Still afraid of success. But... it was muted. I felt better that morning than I had in a long time. It wouldn't last, not forever. Not once I closed my eyes and saw the look of betrayal in Camilla's eyes. But, I somehow knew it wouldn't go forever either. So I knocked.

Then I knocked again. And again. There was no answer. My blood ran cold and panic tried to seize the reigns, but I forced deep breaths down my lungs and tried the knob. The door had been open, last time, and it should be open again. The door opened easily, but no one was inside. No flooded plants, and no puked-in planters. He was still alive, he just wasn't home. Reality started to return. I hadn't even realized how lightheaded I had been getting. How tightly I had clenched my fists. I didn't know how tightly wound I had become while opening the door until the empty room released me.

I released the breath I had unconsciously held and put my hand to my chest. This was good. All I had to do was wait for him to return, and maybe everything would be okay. I don't know when I tied everything up in Hadley's survival. I hadn't even met the man. But I had. So I sat on the steps in front of his house and waited. A few minutes. Then an hour. Then, that itch returned. It had never left really, but as I sat idle, it had grown more persistent. Something wasn't right. I looked at the scene in front of me in concentration.

I had seen something off on my way over here. The world was a slanted rhyme. There was nothing wrong but it just wasn't sliding into place. I couldn't understand it. *Creak* The quiet sound assaulted me. My eyes locked on the garden. The dumping ground for the bodies. The clue about Camilla, and one of the most horrible scenes I had ever encountered. *Creak* The gate groaned as it swung on its hinges. It was open. Open and unguarded. The walls were thick, and it was hard to see in, but the garden was open.

My hands started to shake again as I gripped the wall and pulled myself to my feet. It didn't make sense. There was no way they would let just anyone walk in. Not with what they were hiding. My head spun as I walked across the courtyard to the open gate, and my eyes widened as I walked through. It was... perfectly normal. A beautiful, well-kept garden. One of the finest I had seen. And there wasn't a single corpse in sight. There were only two bodies inside, and both were perfectly alive.

One was a woman, wearing overalls and covered in dirt. Her messy hair was just shy of shoulder length and it hadn't seen a brush in months. Not unlike mine, in fact, except hers looked like she had tried to cut it herself. She was talking to a kindly older man. A man I recognized immediately. It was Hadley. As I hurried across the path, carefully avoiding any flowers, I heard the tail end of the conversation.

"Well, that's very kind of you Margaret, but I don't need that kind of help," Hadley said. The woman, Margaret apparently, looked frustrated.

"Hadley, please. I can help you. I can help everyone, we can just let the Quiet-" she begged but Hadley shook his head and cut her off.

"I don't know about any of that, but I know I don't want what you are offering. Please, I just want to tend to my garden while I still can," he dismissed and Margaret groaned.

"Stubborn old fool," she cursed before storming off. She bumped my shoulder and shot me a glare as she did, but I didn't think I was the actual target of her ire. Even if I had been, it wasn't an unfamiliar look and it washed right over me. I needed to talk to Hadley and that was what I was focused on.

"Um, excuse me, are you Hadley?" I asked and he looked up at me from beneath bushy eyebrows.

"I surely am," he acknowledged, "But I'm afraid I'm at a disadvantage, who might you be miss?" I took a deep breath and steeled myself as my old fear tried to wrestle me away again.

"My name is Mars," I responded. I tried to follow up with my question, but his eyebrows shot up his forehead and he answered for me.

"Mars?" He asked, "You wouldn't be Camilla's little sister, would you?" he gasped and my heart stopped cold. As I'd hoped and feared, he was a real lead. But it wasn't the possible lead that ran ice through my veins. Because it wasn't Camilla's name that he'd known at an instant. It was mine. She had told him about me. And his glassy, furious eyes told me exactly how much.