"I suppose it's my turn now."
He breathed a heavy sigh. Unlike the younger him's fractured memories, much of the events of that fateful day still rang vivid in his mind. Akin to a bad dream, it continued to haunt his thoughts for the first few years after their separation before he managed to get it under control.
Stifled sniffles and choked back sobs were all that his younger self was, but a few minutes was all it took for those to be swallowed back. He was about halfway back, the tears having subsided and dried up until only a controlled expression was left.
"Yeah. I wanna know what happened."
The mind palace was quite a wonderful thing. It was a technique designed by a poet in the Fourth Cycle where a person linked particular pieces of information to specific physical objects or locations. For instance, someone who wanted to remember a detail would only have to walk through their home and experience what they would find there, and from that would the information they stored would start to flood in. In a sense, it was like The Path.
In Raoul's instance, his mind palace was the Hand of Midas. His most fond emotional memories were stored in the lone red tulip by the tree he and Idri liked to sit under. All he needed to do was visualize himself in that same place once more—and then everything would come back, as it was right then.
The words left his lips like he was reciting a mantra.
"Both Mother and Father knew us well; they knew precisely how Raoul thinks. We didn't notice at the time, but she was already waiting there, cloaked in the Invisibility spell, just behind the very tree we were talking under."
His fists clenched themselves, the memory igniting a small bit of fury in his body. "She was convinced the problem lied with the three, Idri in particular. To this day I don't know why. But it was only when I noticed a hand manifesting seemingly out of nowhere did I burst forward to shield her."
For the first time since his entry into his Path, the older Raoul brought a hand to his left eye. The scar there was healed and in much better shape than the one on the younger's, but it was still very visible; a cut much like the shape of a sword's tip resided there. It itched in response to his attention, throbbing as he recalled more of the past.
"That was how we got this scar."
The spell was called Fensi's Blade, and it was a well-known and widely used spell by spellswords that created a perfect, unbreaking metal longsword capable of matching against artifacts. What was ironic was that Fensi, the elven wizard who had coined the spell and popularized it, was said to have created it in the midst of a battle in order to protect the children of his village. Instead, it found its way into the hands of a grieving mother who wasn't thinking straight.
The younger Raoul's eyebrows raised so high, they threatened to break the roof of his head.
"What happened next?"
"Well, let's see… Four children in their early teens attempted to fight back against one of the strongest wizards in modern Synthesis. In actuality, it was three. I couldn't see much because of how much blood was pouring out of my left eye."
It was a magnificent display of camaraderie, he liked to think. Avil, who Raoul knew as one of the very few prodigies capable of wielding the strictly-monitored Time Stop spell unique to the Genesise family, willfully pushed through the penalty of intense pain due to his low mastery in magic. Idri, who had never once picked up a blade in her life, practically begged Calliope to hand her a knife. And finally, Calliope—she was the only one who actually did anything of worth. A well timed slash to Merlin's left leg was all that it took for her to momentarily stagger her and allow for the four of them to flee.
"We never were the kind of group to draw attention to ourselves willingly, but on that day the stares were more than just hindrances. They took us to a hospital owned by Avil's family, where an impromptu surgery was held at his request."
He continued. "Unfortunately, the nature of Mother's magic, being leagues above the common Rynthian, made it difficult for even the best restoration wards to bring my face back to the way it was before. Time was the best medicine in my case, they said."
The younger Raoul's lips quivered. "Don't take this as me skipping through the story, but listening to all this… Why do you still consider her your mother, anyway? She tried to kill Idri. Scarred your face permanently. Destroyed your social life. Why?"
It was indeed a very good question. Any normal person would have left the house the moment Merlin started to control more than she was inclined to as a parent. In the interest of helping her cope, Raoul had kept up with her, but even years didn't seem to be enough. She wasn't as vocal in the present about Ali's passing as she was in the past, but he knew it still pained her, as evident by his actual leave just a day prior.
He couldn't help but smile as he remembered his father's words.
Take care of your Mother, okay? She might not look like it, but she's an emotional woman.
And so he did.
"I suppose I just wanted to help," muttered the older one finally. "It seemed like the right thing for a son to do. I just hope she can understand me now, just as I tried to understand her all those years before."
"I guess…" The younger Raoul replied, his tone radiating unconfidence. "And then?"
"And then… nothing much happened. When I returned home a few days later, she didn't speak of the incident. She did prepare a much grander dinner than I expected, and looking back at it now that was probably her way of apologizing."
"My days continued on from there. The detachment happened over the course of a long period of time. Mother gradually began cutting off my access to my phone and limited my contacts. When I tried to take the train to visit each of them personally, I'd be stopped by policemen who would notice me the moment I tried to walk a different route than I typically did for my commute."
"She's loosened up now, but it was only when I entered tertiary education that she truly started granting me more freedoms. I wasn't obligated to study as hard as I needed to, but I would always be chastised if my grades fell slightly. I was allowed to stay in places like Destagt for a few hours, and my curfew gradually began to disappear."
He paused to gather breath. "We can fast forward a few years to the present. One day, when I was people-watching in Destagt, I met Krocko, who taught me about Driving. While I didn't personally agree with his ethics and way of teaching, he was the first person in a while that made me want to explore outside of Cias Buril and become something else than what Mother has planned."
"My yearning was answered, and I gained the power to achieve my goals. Now…" he craned his head to the horizon, noticing that the fog was beginning to recede at a much faster rate than before. At that point, it was already starting to fade into nothingness. "Now I'm the bird in the story. And there are three other birds out there that I want to fly alongside with."
He finally sighed, happy he had let out multiple years of frustration in a few short minutes. "That's about it."
"You're really something, huh? I'm you, but I don't think I would've been strong enough to stay. Maybe… your patience is gonna pay off. Maybe Mother will see things your way."
"I know she will," smiled the older Raoul. "She might have changed, but she is still my blood mother, and the person who gave birth to me. I respect and love her with all my heart, but that was exactly why I chose to leave. While you may be a figment of my Path and mind, it's quite hard to see you as something not real. I believe you will be able to handle things the way I did."
He was disappearing. The solid matter that made up his body was disappearing, burning up in beautiful sparks of golden light that floated off him.
"You really think so, huh? Well, I believe you." He held up a fist to the older. "You might be pretty cringy, but I guess you turned out pretty cool as well, old me."
He didn't miss it. Right as his very essence began to wane like the moon, he brought his own fist and bumped the two together. The warmth of his younger self flowed into him, coating his frame in a warm light before shooting off into the sky like fireworks. In an instant, the millions of sparks burst, coating the barren, dark sky in a fusion of golden and white. He sighed in happiness, watching as the entire landscape began to transform.
The fog was gone, replaced by clear skies and open vistas that showed wheat fields as far as his eyes could see. The wind was soft, caressing, and gentle. Said wheat fields swayed in the wind, covering the lands in a sea of brown. The lanterns were gone, the lights from the ones that gave them off joining alongside the disassembled younger-him to paint the sky in an even more glowing show of light. There was no sun, and yet the tone was just as warm as it was a few hours before Nyxia.
When that was done, all that was left was Raoul. He stood in a landscape very much similar to Tel Midasia. Everywhere he looked, there was comfort and nostalgia to be found. He raised a hand to the sky, marveling as the essence of his Path swept across him.
That wasn't all. Something had undoubtedly changed in him. That sense of conviction and determination he felt in Lupas Hendu just a few days ago was back. And it was much more powerful.
I suppose this is what Krocko meant by moving forward. It wasn't moving forward with my own two feet that changed The Path, but rather turning towards the past and reminding myself of why I wanted to fly.
He basked in the light for a few more moments and walked the Path for a short while. Most of the bounding paths that trailed separate from the main road still existed, but they had drastically reduced in number. Even more than that, the main road was blanketed in a distinct golden glow, as if it was indirectly telling him that it was the correct one to take. Dotting the landscapes every few hundred meters were massive trees of golden brown leaves, similar to the kind that withered in early fall months.
Five more minutes of walking. When he was confident that he had seen all of what was new, the thought of returning entered his mind. As if on cue, some of the golden sparks that had flown to make the golden sky in his Path separated, touching down in a spectacular display of dancing lights. The sparks spun around, twirling past each other before suddenly crashing, forming a small portal twice his size and span.
That was all he was going to get from it at the moment. A wellspring of inspiration and conviction was bubbling within him, and he was itching to let it flow freely.
"I should return."