"Its nice." Ramon comments idly as our horses when their way through the narrow streets of Springvale, "Peaceful. Almost like time stands still here."

"Yeah." I agree, coughing to clear my throat, "See that old guy standing by the side of the tavern?"

"What about him?" Ramon asks, turning to look at the portly, balding man leaning against the tavern's wooden wall, a baton tucked into his belt. The tavern itself is a simple rectangular building with a thatched roof, its only advertisement being a sign bearing a painted beer flagon placed by the door cheerfully inviting customers to start with their drinking.

COME ON IN WE ARE OPEN

"That's the village patrolman." I say to Ramon, "Hasn't aged a day ever since I left Springvale, even though he should be a fossil by now. Come to think about it, the tavern hasn't changed their sign either."

"You want to drop in for a drink?" Ramon quips, "I'll admit to feeling pretty parched from the journey."

"Nah. I want to stop by my home first." I respond, waving to the village patrolman as we pass the tavern, "I'll treat you to a drink there."

"Sure." Ramon assents as he watches the patrolman, "Why is that old fellow giving us such a suspicious look? He doesn't seem to recognize you, Mac."

"Probably gone senile." I sigh dramatically, "The flesh may endure, but his mind would have turned to mush by now."

"The air in Springvale seems lighter as well." Ramon muses, "I thought you were bullshitting me about this place being somewhere people come to relax, but I'm starting to see why rich folks make the trip already."

"No power cables. Everyone uses candles or lanterns here." I smirk as both of us make our way toward a modest home at the end of the road, "Springvale is clean of that ambient buzzing crap that fills the atmosphere in Deshawn City. Its what makes the place so quiet."

"Its not what I'm used to, but I like it." Ramon grins, "Your hometown is nice, Mac."

"Yeah, I'm glad it remained nice too." I affirm. I was fearful that the Stabber's rantings would have been proven right, but it turned out to be nothing but hogwash. Springvale never burned down.

Everything is as it should be.

The sound of a church bell tolling from the center of the village causes Ramon to look up in surprise. I barely notice his reaction as nostalgia begins to overwhelm me.

"The church still operates here in Springvale, you know?" I begin thinking aloud as my memories of home return, "Its because of the myth that this village was specially blessed by Ea. I would attend classes at Church, listening to the legends, learning to write ..."

"Hitting on your childhood friend ..." Ramon sing songs with a knowing smile on his face.

"That too." I grin back, "My going away ceremony was in the church as well. My parents gave me my sword right in front of all the villagers there."

"You had a ceremony when you left for Deshawn City?" Ramon exclaims in surprise, "What were you, some kind of celebrity?"

"Hardly anything happens in Springvale." I elaborate modestly, "Me going to Deshawn City was really a story for the ages. By Springvale standards at least."

"Wow, I knew you were provincial," Ramon observes, "but this is smaller than small town."

"So it is." I sigh as we stop in front of the house, tying our horses to a nearby post, "Its not like I'm ashamed of it, you know. But its all so silly, especially when you compare it to life in Deshawn City."

"I would have liked living like this." Ramon stands akimbo, stretching his stiff body, "An uncomplicated childhood. I honestly would never have left Springvale if I had been born here."

"You say that because you weren't born here." I note rather sourly, rapping the front door of my parents' house.

"And you don't appreciate what you have." Ramon disputes, "Trust me, you'll understand once we get to my family estate."

"I'll take your word for it." I reply, as the front door of the house creaks open.

"Yes?" an elderly woman with pouch cheeks and wearing a modest dress coupled with a long sleeved blouse greets us.

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

"Hey Ma." I say hesitantly, "Its been awhile, huh?"

"Pardon?" my mother narrows her eyes, staring at both Ramon and I in confusion.

"Its me, Ma." I say slowly so mother doesn't get too confused, "Mac. I know I've been away for awhile, but I'm back with a friend to visit. How're are things?"

"This isn't funny." Mother mutters and begins to close the door.

"Come on!" I hiss, suppressing my irritation while pushing at the doorknob, "Its me. Your son. Mac. Remember now?"

"You're not my son." mother snaps as she struggles against my strength, "I've never met either you or your friend in my entire life."

"Come off it!" I yell, "Its not funny!"

With a hard shove, I send the door flying open, with mother staggering back. I stride into the house with Ramon following uncertainly behind me.

"This is it." I declare, "This is my home. I've lived here for more than a decade. Don't tell me you've forgotten Ma. Has everyone in this town gone senile?"

"Mac ..." Ramon whispers, tugging at my sleeve.

"I. Am. Mac. Nair." I repeat slowly and deliberately to mother, hoping for the message to sink in, "Your son. Who went to Deshawn City. To study magic. Remember Ma?"

"If you want to scam someone, at least get the facts right!" mother suddenly shouts at the top of her voice, "Leave before I call the militia!"

"What in the world are you talking about now?" I yell back, infuriated.

"My son is a boy who has not even left for Deshawn City." mother snarls, her eyes glinting in fury, "And you're saying that you're him? Get lost. Now!"

"STOP THIS SHI -" I begin to holler, but Ramon pulls me away, shoving me through the open front door back outside. As Ramon bows apologetically to mother, the door slams shut with finality.

"Why did you do that?" I demand, "Ma has obviously lost it. She needs help."

"Mac, that woman did not recognize you." Ramon says slowly, "I don't know what's going on, but I don't think she was lying about that bit."

"Impossible." I scoff, "How can a mother not recognize her own son? Its been a very long time, sure, but -"

"She was going to call the Order on us." Ramon reprimands, "You want more trouble after we fled Deshawn City?"

"No, she said militia." I suddenly blurt out, "Ma was going to call the militia on us. And I haven't seen a single member of the Order in Springvale all this while."

"That's not the only weird thing." Ramon nods grimly, "We heard the church bell toll just now. And the Order bases itself in churches and temples that have been abandoned."

"But the Order claimed Springvale." I rub my temples in consternation, "We both saw their pennant at the highway."

"Something doesn't add up." Ramon agrees, "I didn't think much of it at first but ..."

"But Ma's freak out got you thinking." I frown.

"More like your freak out." Ramon mutters under his breath.

"Are you saying that I've been imagining things?" I snap, "That I've been making up my entire past?"

"No!" Ramon denies, "I mean, its clear that you believe you're telling the truth, but -"

"Whatever." I scoff, mounting Loaner, "We can figure things out easily enough by just checking the Evergreen Grove"D."

"How's that?" Ramon queries as he falls in behind me.

"Ma said her son was still a boy." I explain, "And there's only one place teenagers can go to spend their time in Springvale away from their parents. The Evergreen Grove. If Ma is right, we will definitely meet her so-called real son there. Which we won't of course."

"That's the local make out spot?" Ramon hums, "Makes sense I suppose. Confirmation one way or the other."

"Damn straight." I scowl in annoyance at the darkening skies as we enter the Evergreen Grove, "Can't believe Ma drove me out of my own home. Once her imaginary son never comes back, I'm going to have words with her."

"I know you're upset Mac." Ramon says lightly, "But don't be too harsh on your mother. She's an old woman."

"I'm harsh because I care." I grit out, "Springvale doesn't have any healers that can deal with dementia or senility. How long has Ma been deteriorating like this? Why hasn't dad done anything about it?"

"I don't want to presume -" Ramon pipes up again.

"Its not what you think." I wave the comment away, "Both my parents get along with each other. So if Dad allowed Ma to get this bad, it means Ma either refused to leave Springvale for treatment or they couldn't afford it. Fuck!"

Ramon says nothing at my outburst, maintaining a diplomatic silence.

"Damn it. I never came back and allowed things to get this bad." I groan as the enormity of my neglect sinks in, "I'm a bad son. I'm really a bad son."

"You're here now." Ramon reassures, squeezing my shoulder with a hand, "That's what matters, right?"

"Thanks Ramon." I pat his hand in gratitude, "I mean it."

"And we've not found anyone in the grove so far." Ramon pipes up, "So what're you going to do next?"

"There's still the innermost part we need to search." I reply, "Might as well get do it and give time for Dad to get back home. The conversation will go better once he's there."

"If your mother is really senile," Ramon agrees, "proving that you're no longer a child might not be enough. Her mind might not be able to accept it."

"Yeah. That's why I think talking to Dad would -" I begin to speak before cutting myself off, "Hold up, I think we've got two people up ahead."

"I hear rustling as well." Ramon confirms as our horses canter forward. The greenery becomes to thick, forcing Ramon and I to dismount.

"This feels wrong." I grumble, pushing my way through the foliage, "Like we're invading someone's privacy."

"You wanted to be thorough." Ramon chuckles back softly, "I'm kind of liking this though. Its a welcome break from life in Deshawn City."

"Let's not linger for too long." I shoot back, delicately pushing aside a clump of bushes, "I don't want to stumble into a pair of horny teens banging."

And as a slit is opened in the foliage, right in front of our eyes are a pair of lovebirds. A teenage boy and girl standing under a canopy of stars.

"That's sweet." Ramon sighs as the boy places flowers in the girl's hair.

"No." I moan, "It can't be."

Then they together danced under the moonlight.

I danced under the moonlight with my childhood friend.

I am dancing under the moonlight with my childhood friend right now.

In front of my own eyes.

Vomit rises in my throat.

And I run off into the darkness.