Day 1

I forced myself to eat breakfast on the next loop. The same breakfast I had eaten before. It sat in my stomach like a stone, but I needed it. I thanked Livia, and I thanked Marcus. Marcus looked at me in confusion, lacking the memories of the favor he'd promised to do for me. It didn't matter. I believed he'd tried. I went through the motions like any day. I went straight for the girls. I wouldn't fail them again. I had to see them again. They were like a warm pool on a winter day. As much as they needed me to survive, I'd grown to need them.

I had to eat at the inn, instead of with them. I wanted my morning with them desperately. The morning I cherished, full of warm porridge and stories of our loved ones. I was emotionally and mentally drained, and the nervous smile Junia wore on these mornings as she fed her sister... I could have used them, that day. I could have used the warmth. Instead, I was forced to pass them off to Harrison almost as soon as I had introduced myself. It felt almost clinical.

It's hard to describe how cold it was. Perhaps because of the loop. Because they were back, and alive, and I could help them. It should have been nothing but a relief. But it wasn't. Their death, every death, remained real. No amount of manipulating time or the world could take away their impact. There was no making what had happened in the last loop better. No making it go away. My failure, and Margaret's choices... they remained as real as they were when they happened. That's one thing I needed to show to Margaret. And it was one thing that robbed my reunion with the girls of its flavor.

I wanted to stay. I ached to stay. But I had to start by helping Margaret's sister, and meeting her nephew. Before that, I had someone I wanted to meet. A child, always trying to dig behind a grave marked 'Melody'. He visited several times, throughout the day. I knew I could wait if I had to. But... the last time I had met Scylla, she had hurt me to protect her son. It was going to be hard, facing her again. No harder than facing Margaret, but hard nonetheless. I wanted the evening for the girls. For the little family I had found. That I had to introduce myself to, so many times. If I was going to face that night, I needed the evening.

So I waited near the cemetery, making sure to arrive before the boy. I didn't have to wait long. It was easy, really. I'd seen him here at the same time on the same day, so many times. Like clockwork, he showed up again, his focus on Margaret's house. She was his primary obstacle, so he failed to notice me from the other direction. I approached immediately. I didn't want him to start digging before I got to him. If he did, Margaret would come out and run him off before I could speak to him. I only needed to confirm one thing. He was more vigilant than I thought, however. I approached him as quietly as I could as he crept toward the headstone, but before I was fifteen paces away from him he turned, saw me, and bolted.

I hadn't thought I'd made a sound, but he had been trying to do this for some time it seemed. He must have been hyper-aware. I sighed, but it was alright. I began to cast 'Still World' as he ran. A few moments later and we were both gasping for breath for different reasons, as he ran directly into me. We both fell into the dirt road in a mess as he cursed in surprise.

"Aethon's grace, Lady, where did you come from?" He protested. Then he looked at me for another moment and blinked. "Wait, weren't you the one who... how did you?" I coughed and brushed myself off as he climbed to his feet, freeing me to do the same.

"I'm not trying to stop you," I assured, holding one hand out to him in a placating gesture.

"Funny way of not stopping me," he quipped. I coughed and frowned a little.

"No, I mean. The grave, I just want to ask a question," I clarified.

"I don't know anything about any grave," he insisted. I didn't bother arguing, electing to ask the question instead.

"What are you looking for, behind it?" I pleaded.

"Lady, I'm not looking for any-" he started.

"Please," I cut him off, "Please. I need to know." He looked up at me, in the eyes, and his face softened. He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.

"Look, I don't know either. It's just..." he trailed, blushing a little. "You'll make fun of me..." I crouched down slightly, making sure our eyes were on the same level, and shook my head at him.

"I won't," I promised. I could immediately tell that he believed me, even if he was still hesitant. He looked down, trying to hide a blush.

"I saw a falling star," he answered. "A few nights ago. That's where it landed. My... my brother always said falling stars were part of Aethon, and they can grant wishes if you find one. I just... I wanted to find it," he admitted. My breath quickened a little.

"Do you... remember what color it was?" I pushed, eliciting a look of confusion on his face.

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

"Um, blue, I guess? Like a shored of sea blue. Why does that matter? A falling star is a falling star, right?" He questioned.

"You're right," I agreed, "It doesn't matter. Thanks for your help," I replied, trying to hide the increased anxiety in my voice.

"Can I go now?" he requested, and I nodded idly.

"Thank you," I said quietly, but he was gone too quickly to know if he heard me. The implication was clear. It had something to do with my spell. My spell and the other one. I had seen three 'falling stars' fly from it. Like me, these must have traveled. Reset. I needed to know more. I hoped Margaret would explain if I managed to stop her. I didn't know. But it was another clue under my belt. And another thing to worry about. Because I had seen three. Three of these... bits of spell I didn't understand. That created a new mage with powers like I had never seen. Chantless spells and soul magic.

This consumed me as I approached Scylla's home. The worry. The wonder. Just enough that I didn't worry about the home I was approaching... until I got there. That phantom pain in the side of my head throbbed as my knuckles hovered, just in front of the door. My hand shook. Then I closed my eyes and pictured Margaret on the final day. Bloodied. Agonized. I promised her I would save her sister. I knocked. I took a deep breath. Again the time it took for an answer crawled by like a worm after the rain. Finally, a familiar, exhausted man opened the door.

"Are you the doctor?" he asked quietly.

"Margaret sent me," I answered. He looked at me for a moment, then shrugged and opened the door.

"I suppose it's about time she finally came around. We've been trying to get her help for days. She just ignores my wife whenever she goes to find her. Do you know what's wrong with my boy?" he asked, standing aside to let me in. I took a deep breath. I needed to be ready for this. Margaret needed me to be ready for this, which meant, well. Everyone did. If I couldn't face this family, stop this tragedy... I thought this loop might continue forever. I followed him into his home.

It felt much like the first time. The same heavy air, the same weary furniture, the same quiet. The poker by the fireplace made me shudder. "Can I offer you some tea?" he asked. I nearly turned him down but remembered it wouldn't matter. He would make the tea no matter what I said, so I let him make his tea. For all I knew, it was one of those little habits he followed to stay sane.

"Sure," I agreed. "Thank you." He nodded and filled his kettle with water.

"So, how exactly are you going to help us?" he asked. "What did Margaret ask you to do?"

I awkwardly took a seat on the side of the sofa.

"Scylla will be home soon," I replied. "I think I'd better wait for both of you." He looked down and took in a deep breath.

"Right," was the only response I received. The following minutes were lethargic and uncomfortable. Passing through them felt like walking over dried grass. It was only a few moments, however, and soon the quiet was interrupted by Scylla opening the door.

"There was no one that would help us. The clinics were full, and I was turned away as soon as they saw my clothes," she whispered. As before her voice felt like a cry in an empty church. Again her husband wept in silence by the fire.

"Well, ma'am? I don't suppose Margaret sent you with money to pay for a doctor? If she really wants to help," he asked. I still didn't have the answer he wanted. I tried to ignore the hope in his eyes. I examined the scratches on Scylla's arms, ignoring the sharp look she gave me.

"Has your son been... violent?" I poked, already knowing the answer. Scylla rubbed the scratches on her arms self-consciously while examining me with suspicion.

"You said Margaret sent her?" Scylla asked her husband.

"That's what she said," he shrugged, still watching the tea kettle.

"Why now? She's ignored us for days," Scylla asked, this time looking at me. My fingers wrestled each other as I struggled to come up with an honest answer. I could have lied, I suppose. But I lacked the stomach for it. Not to these people. Not when I looked at their faces. Even after what they did the last time I... they deserved at least a little honesty.

"She made a mistake," I answered. "She realized it too late, but she made a mistake. Her magic it's... it's making people violent. Making them hurt the ones they love. I'm here to help your son, so that doesn't happen."

"I wonder about that... About stopping it. Maybe... maybe if that's what he wants, we should..." she trailed. I could see what happened the first time. The pain of keeping your son trapped. Hurting. Desperate. It must have overcome this woman. Believing that what he really wanted was to hurt her. I could understand how she ended up where she did. How she and her husband died.

"He doesn't," I replied, sounding more confidant than I had in a long, long time. "He doesn't want to hurt you. He has no choice. That's why I'm here. To... show you that." She looked at me like broken glass. But there was a new light glittering behind the look, if a faint one. "May I see him?" I asked. She bit her lip, closed her eyes, and gave me a single nod.

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It was hours before I found myself, drinking hot tea at Harrison's table. But I had made it. Scylla hadn't felt threatened enough to harm me, and I could show her son to Margaret. The rest of the day had been spent offering my help to a few other people, while I had the time. An unhoused couple, two older men playing chess, a pregnant mother and her quieted husband. It all took a toll. Every single one of them took a toll.

"Are you doing alright?" Harrison asked. "I know we don't know each other well but, I don't know. You look exhausted. Do you need somewhere to sleep?"

I gave him a weary smile before taking another sip. Light started to flicker through the windows. "I can't, I'm afraid. I have to speak to one more person. I have to... well. That doesn't matter. Will you keep the girls safe? please?" I requested before tiredly climbing to my feet. He looked at me with confusion as I walked toward the door.

"Protect them from what?" He asked.

"Hopefully nothing," I replied. "But... don't barricade yourself indoors. They'll burn this place down with you inside it. I... I can't see that again. So please, just protect them." His next question was answered as I opened the door and revealed the mob outside.

"W-what is going on, what are you going to do?" He said instead, panic clear in his voice.

"I'm going to go introduce myself," I sighed, trembling as I said the next part. "I am going to let a broken woman see who I really am. Who both of us really are."