Roland clutched the side of his stomach as blood seeped through the robes and between his pressed hands. I followed him as he ran through the halls of the empire’s grand castle, smoothed granite walls with archways of marble and quartz which seemed to sparkle in the morning sun that shone through the high stained glass windows. It was a surreal feeling that went over me as I walked through Margrit Castle. It was my and Roland’s dream to one day accept a quest from the emperor after working our way through the adventurer ranks. It was a common wish, but one that was great enough that it could wash away the circumstances we were in at the time. We had fought so many times trying to decide who would be the party leader that will eventually represent and talk to the king. But fate seemed to have other plans.

“When was the first time we saw each other Thomas,” Roland called out, his voice soft but strained, perhaps needing some water to drink. “Could you refresh my memory?” It wasn’t difficult to follow him, even if I stopped for a minute I could still hear his footsteps as it echoed through the halls. Even an untrained ear could tell the thumps of his feet from the crash of the stones against the walls. I smiled at my best friend as he looked back at me briefly, his face covered in sweat and dust. When our eyes met, I could see a brief muscle on his face twitch with uneasiness.

“It hasn’t been that long Roland,” I answered. “I’m sure your memory is still sharp after all these years.” He was the smarter one between the two of us of course. He was always good of coming up ways to convince Blake or Liam to give up a piece of the sweet pastry that baker Louise baked whenever it was one of their turns to help out for the day. Mother had to work extra the other day to guarantee that Louise would have berries to put in those pies today, surely you can spare her some as a treat? Old-man Trent is coming back this afternoon from one of his hunts, I want to give him a tart in case he gives us a nice piece of hare I can share with us four. The way Blake and Liam listened to him, it almost seemed like they were ready to believe anything he said. ‘Course that couldn’t stop Louise from eventually catching Blake handing off a small sack of cheese pies that Roland and I were going to ‘deliver’ to Edith the seamstress.

As Roland tried to run with the bag, I jumped off of the bakery’s roof with a bucket, placing it perfectly on Louise’s thinning hair before landing on the ground and tripping him with my roll. It may have looked easy to Roland and Blake, but that took me months of practice mind you. I soon caught up with Roland as we ran into the forest, set with our rations for the adventuring day just before Louise finished yelling that we’ll get our ‘comeuppance’ or whatever. I told you we shouldn’t have pushed for it today, I said with a mouthful of rations.

Roland broke a ration in half and let the cheese stretch before putting one in his mouth carefully and breathing long and heavy, the hot steam carried away by the cold morning air. Sure but do you want to keep complaining and give them back, or enjoy some more of these S ranked rations? He offered me the other half of the ration that he broke off and just like any sane person accepted it with a grin, my front teeth missing and paired well with Roland’s own smile with a tooth or two missing as well.

“Please,” Roland coughed with a small wry smile on his face before turning forward again. “Humour your old friend a bit.”

I looked down slowly, dodging each falling debris without a care in the world as I followed my best friend. It was getting harder and harder to remember things, and even now I still feel shame and guilt at the possibility of Roland knowing my condition. Blackthorn with all its faults had become a fond memory for me, and losing it hurt more than I realized. Roland’s legs were starting to tremble as he pushed himself to continue running through this maze-like hall. We turned left and right and left again and again as I racked my brain to remember how I arrived in Blackthorne. Just before we turned another corner I finally remembered and spoke.

“It was a hot summer’s day, my family and I had just arrived in Blackthorn and your family were the ones that welcomed us…” As the wagon slowed to a stop, I could hear the sounds of distant frogs in a river that Roland and I would eventually frequent. “I sat in the wagon peeking out of the covers to see what kind of village my mother had decided for us to run away to.” I tried my hardest to remember what I saw for the first time, but anger and sorrow gripped my heart. I could see my mother Sarah, Roland’s mother Bethany, and Roland himself standing stiffly behind his mother… but beyond them was nothing, a dark void where the earth should be, the clutter of houses in the village gone. I willed my mind to imagine what I thought back then as a quaint little village, forcing foundations of buildings to sprout from the black nothingness. Wasn’t there a small inn near the entrance? No… it was a row of houses leading to a small fountain that all the villagers helped take care of. What? A fountain? It was a garden.

“Thomas dear, come meet my old friend and her son.” The voice, so sweet and soothing as it flowed from her mouth that it made me sick. I looked at her, my beautiful young waif of a mother. During the first months of our stay in Blackthorn, many of the villagers mistook us for siblings which my mother would immediately correct, bashful and laughing as she won the hearts of the villagers. The blue dye of her smock had begun to fade but anyone could tell from the fabric and seams that it was of good quality. Her long red hair shone in the dark void with a nonexistent sun, creating a false lighthouse for me to head to and crash into its rocks.

I know I looked at her face then and saw that she had used a soft smile that made anyone pity her and ask if she was okay, a smile that was put on as a brave front with sadness behind it and garnered pity. Anyone who saw it would become her captive and who could blame them? It was what she was, a pristine lake with no disturbances that reflected what you wanted in her as you walked willingly deeper and deeper into it before swallowing you into the cold and dark depths. I know I looked at her then, but now in my memories, a shiver runs down my spine everytime I tried to remember her face for I would instead be met with a faceless woman save for her dark piercing eyes opened wide and unblinking, not wanting me to escape.

As I let the memory play out, I looked away from my mom towards the people she wanted me to meet. Roland’s mother was bigger than my mother although that isn’t saying much. She had dark hair that curved inward, a well kept dark brown kirtle worn over a lighter brown smock as well as white linen apron with so many stains that it was becoming brown as well.

“Nice to meet you Thomas, you can just call me Aunt Beth or even Auntie.” I… don’t remember the colour of her eyes, perhaps it was blue or brown, but she smiled at me with great energy in her voice, one that I was unaccustomed to. I nodded in response, still half hiding behind the covers of the wagon. “This monster over here is my son, Roland. I hope you and he get along well! Go on, say hi Roland.”

Aunt Beth pushed her son forward before turning to talk to my mother, leaving the two children alone. He was around the same age as me is what my mother said, he had on a brown tunic and trousers, messy dark brown hair that curled whichever way a strand wanted to. His head was looking down and I could barely see the corners of his mouth drooping down before it went up at the same time he raised his face towards me. He extended an open hand forward in a handshake and I reluctantly took it. His smile was curved upwards in a smile but I could tell his eyes were dull, letting me know what was unspoken.

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In a low voice so as to not let our mothers hear, I asked him a question. “Do you have a voice?”

Our hands stopped mid shake and Roland’s eyes became sharp, and his smile disappeared. Our hands separated slowly as I sat further back into the wagon and Roland went back to standing behind his mother at attention but now slightly shaking.

I finished my memory just as I rounded a corner Roland went into. He looked back and chuckled at me perhaps remembering our first encounter with each other at the same time. “You were quite shy back then weren’t you?” Roland asked.

“I was,” I nodded. I stayed hidden for most of the time when I wasn’t with Roland, I never tried to interact much with the others. Not with them having begun to wade into my mother’s lake. But Roland and I were similar in a sense, whenever he was with his parents he stood prim and proper, waiting for them to give him a command and executing it obediently. I thought that his mother wasn’t that difficult to please, a tad too naggy but who’s mother wasn’t? No, I surmised that his behavior stemmed from his father.

“And I seem to remember how quiet you were too,” I added quickly and heard one of his step echo slightly louder as a response. We were slowly coming to the end of hallway and I saw that it had an alcove with a wooden door. Roland pulled it open swiftly before stepping in and the strong aroma of flowers assaulted my nostrils. I soon followed him into what appeared to be a garden of some sorts near the back of the castle. He clumsily trampled the different beds of flowers as he stumbled towards the back center of the garden before he kneeled down just before a group of red and yellow flowers. A strong breeze went through us making the boughs of a tree that I just noticed bend down towards Roland as if protecting him.

It was a blackthorn tree, the same ones that my and Roland’s mother would harvest around fall. I remember us helping them with picking the berries, and even getting pails of water for processing. Oh, that’s right… Blackthorn was famous for its jams and where it got its namesake… I turned behind me as a whistle announced a stone tossed by our trebuchets and crashed right above the door blocking our way back in.

I looked towards the berries again before turning away towards the burning capital as a fond forgotten memory returned to me. For the first time in so long my memory wasn’t in the void. I stood in the kitchen where my mother and Aunt Beth made the jam. My mother stood over the large cauldrons filled with the berries us boys helped pick. Roland and her mom went somewhere else at this time, perhaps to grab an ingredient or some other thing that I forgot.

My mother began to hum a tune as she stirred each cauldron, it started slow at first, haunting and creeping and steadily built faster. I remembered that it wasn’t the first time I heard it, but even then I could never remember where it came from. She slowly stopped stirring, realizing that I was still standing behind her and turned to look at me. This time, her face was completely gone, replaced with wisp of smokes that evaporated right as they left her face.

“Would you like to learn how to make the jam?” She spoke, voicelessly. I could see the movements of her throat moving to speak but I could hear nothing, only understanding that she had spoken those words to me. I nodded while stepping forward, she placed her hands on my shoulders gently and guided me to a smaller pot, with only a few berries in it. “First you have to…” She began her instruction but again I could hear nothing and only understood what she first said, but even past I could no longer understand. My memory blurred as I tried harder and harder to remember, I turned my head towards my mother and I could see a fleck of skin appear on her missing face.

I opened my eyes in the present and once again took in the burning city, the words of my best friend jarring me awake. “I wanted to show this view to you,” he said.

“You always liked climbing up on the trees like a lynx. Skulking around, away from prying eyes…” Roland paused. The capital was burning, billows of smoke joined together to form dark clouds on what should be a beautiful sunny day.

“I’ve obtained quite a lot of wealth in just 10 years, more than what our village would have earned in a hundred years maybe.” I could smell the blackthorn in the garden.

“The capital also offers many delicacies. You won’t believe how many different ways you can cook a rabbit.” I closed my eyes and remembered Roland grinning with his head poking out of a snowbank as I held up a hare that we caught.

“I don’t think I ever asked what village you came from, mother insisted that I don’t bother. The one time I brought it up my mother apologized profusely to yours while she slapped me on the head.” Lightning flashed in the distance followed by booming thunder. I couldn’t remember when it happened.

“In my fifth year in the courts, I earned enough power to ask questions without being questioned myself. So, I began to dig, I asked the scribes if they had records on the eastern frontier, territories of the empire in the south, and any other foreign domains further out.” The lightning that teared across the battlefield was suddenly blocked by Malik’s earth magic, great swathes of earth raised from the ground with a rumble and locked him and the lightning mage in combat. They always told him to control how much mass he used since it affected his mana reserves, but he was too stubborn. Besides, his innate mana more than made up for it.

“Well? Anything to say? I know about what happened in the Zephyr Plains. Where you and your mother had ran away from.” Roland knows? So there must be records then… I sighed, at least one of us knew. Even if the records survived, would it matter if I found out what happened? My memories fade each passing day.

“What’s wrong Thomas? Have you gone numb? I never blamed you… How could I? They’re natural disasters put upon this world carelessly by nonexistent gods. It’s laughable honestly how no fault can be placed on anyone. Not even you.” Roland’s voice steadily grew, anger seeped in after each sentence. I watched the capital burn. I was able to remember that whenever we had a dispute it went the same. Roland’s words came out smart and sharp as I listened, quietly contemplating it before Roland burst out in anger as he thought I wasn’t even listening. There was a strange sick comfort in that, Roland still being the same as what few memories I had of him.

My eyes blurred. Maybe by some short miracle, I managed to stay the same as well.

“AM I INVISIBLE TO YOU?!” Roland shouted and I could hear something swing in the air and I turned my face to him. His face was in anger, bright blue eyes that would sharpen when he found something of interest besides a command from his father. I could feel the ground beneath me shake as his mana surged with power. Then our eyes met and he faltered but for a brief moment.

I blinked the tears away just as my dagger entered Roland’s chest.

“I looked for you,” I said.

Roland stared at the digger in his chest. “I as well,” he choked.

I placed my free hand on his shoulder as I knelt down in front of him. He let go of his wand weakly and grabbed onto my dagger hand while we saw each other eye to eye.

“Did you ever have a voice?” I asked him regretfully.

Roland’s eyes dimmed as I can only imagine what his life had been like the fifteen years we were apart.

“I was… a person of greed,” Roland gasped deeply between the words. “I chose this path…”

I shook my head, wishing to remember the lost memories I had of the two of us pretending to be adventurers, venturing into grand and dark dungeons but unable to. “I’m sorry Roland,” I said, not knowing to which action I’m apologizing for. “You’ve lived without a choice this entire time.”

I gently laid him down on the bed of red and yellow flowers as he slumped back into it. He lifted his shaking hand and touched my face, his eyes moving from me to the sky, the strong wind blew the smoke so close that its almost above us. The blackthorn tree continued to bend downwards towards us.

“Hey Thomas,” my best friend said. “Do you remember how our mothers made the blackthorn jam?”

I looked at his weary eyes, unsure of why he was asking me. “Yes?”

“Do you think you could make some for me?”

I smiled, for what can I do but lie? “Sure, I’ll make you some tomorrow.”

Roland flashed me a grin and for a moment the ghost of a young boy smiled at me before he closed his eyes.