Note

I staggered back, feeling as if the ground had disappeared from beneath my feet. My mind raced with a million thoughts, unable to comprehend the event that just unfolded before me. 

'How could this be happening? Was this some kind of a cruel joke?'

The crowd's murmurs and gasps faded into a distant hum as I struggled to make sense of all the things that happened so far.

After a while, the guards pulled the criminal's corpse away. To be disposed of, obviously.

I stood there, frozen in disbelief, as the realization slowly dawned on me. There was no denying it—the criminal had my face, my body. It was a chilling, nightmarish reflection that shattered my sense of reality.

'How could this be real? And what does it mean for me? I just woke up one day trapped in somebody else's body. But what happened to the original soul that resided in the said body? Where did it go?' These were only a few of the million questions that plagued my mind.

"...go. Nothing… see… anymore. We… investigate."

I barely registered Jullian's words, my mind still reeling from the shocking revelation. It wasn't until he lightly tapped me on the shoulder that I snapped back to the present.

"Is anything wrong?" he asked, concern etched into his features.

"I don't know," I said to him. "It's just… I saw something… something impossible."

Jullian's brow furrowed with worry. "What do you mean? What did you see?"

I hesitated, unsure of how to articulate the jumbled mess of thoughts that cluttered my mind. "It was… him. But it was me. I don't understand."

Jullian studied my face, his concern deepening. "We can figure it out," he said. "But first, we need to get out of here. Let's go somewhere quiet and talk. You look like you've seen a ghost."

I nodded. However, as we made our way through the dissipating crowd, a heavy hand suddenly landed on my left shoulder, making me flinch as I jerked my head around in surprise. And oh boy, did the blood drain from my face! I wasn't expecting to see that person at the plaza execution. I wasn't ready to face him at all! Not in my current mental situation! The hand belonged to Richard Alvarez. Yup, the exact one who dealt the finishing blow to poor Florence. 'What the f*ck is he doing here?' I screamed in my head.

Richard had a laid-back yet alluring presence. He was tall and muscular, with sly, nut-brown eyes, a head and a few inches taller than me. His dark, tousled hair fell in a carefree manner over his forehead. He was wearing silver, thick-framed glasses that gave him a scholarly look.

"Care to join for a coffee?" he asked me.

Well, I didn't really want to go, you know? I almost blurted out, "No, thank you! Double it and give it to the next person!" remembering a certain meme from back on my Earth. Though I am more surprised to myself thinking about memes in that situation. Maybe being an escapist has its perks too?

"Uh, sure?"

In the end, I still went with him. I shot Jullian who was looking at me since earlier a meaningful glance before I left with Richard.

I had no choice. I had to take things seriously. I was convinced that wasn't the time to be thinking about mental health. I could think about that for the rest of my life if I secured a sure fire ticket back home.

***

Busy Bean Diner, January 14th, 1301, 9:35 a.m..

Richard brought me to a rather fancy place located near the Salalona train station, the Busy Bean Diner, which was popular amongst the wealthy folks. It had exposed brick walls with ambient lighting that gave off a welcoming and cozy atmosphere. The comforting aroma of freshly brewed coffee and the sound of sizzling bacon filled the air. But despite all of this, I couldn't even taste the food Richard ordered for me. Two white sausages with sweet mustard on the side, some pretzels, and a cup of diluted espresso.

First of all, Richard was just sipping his coffee in an upright manner, patiently waiting for me to finish my food, just watching me, adding to the awkward atmosphere. And the fact that I had just eaten a whole pie at home so I wasn't really hungry, coupled by the loss of appetite from witnessing something I shouldn't have. It didn't really help that he was just staring at me. 'I mean, come on, dude! Say something!'

He seemed determined to let me finish my food first before he tell me literally anything at all. So, I made the first move, hiding my sweaty hands under the table.

"So, uh, you... Ahem! D'you have anything to say?" I stuttered as I straightened my back, feigning confidence, erasing any form of anxiety from my face. The corner of my lips tugged a little higher.

Then silence. A full five seconds. He just stared at me as if trying to dissect my head open to see what I was thinking.

"I found a clue," he finally said. "But we might have to go back to your place. I think you were right. Your brother isn't dead."

My left leg started shaking up and down, and despite how confident I am at feigning confidence, my facade still broke a little as my back broke into sweat.

"Went to old man's place, flipped through the record, and found that the gate was opened eight months ago," Richard continued. "That was about the time your brother was declared dead, wasn't it? And aside from my family, no one else could open it if not yours."

Now, do I have any idea what this guy was talking about? Nope! Do I know what this gate, this missing brother, and this family thing was all about? I'd no clue at all! But I could guess what was going on. In one of the memory fragments, there was this family portrait: a wife and a husband, an elder sister, and two younger brothers.

Even an idiot could tell what was going on already at this point. The missing brother was that kid who still looked like a seven-year-old boy in the portrait.

"By the way, how's Arkira?" he asked, changing the topic, and I almost choked on my sausage.

"Fine, I guess?" I told him. The fact that she could think about pulling a prank on me last night tells me that she was just fine. And the blood, whether it belonged to her or her victim, I don't care. If it was hers, I'm not worried. I don't think it was fatal enough if she could get up so early to make a pie.

"What about her memories? Recovered them yet?"

It was my turn to be silent. 'This matched the dream,' I thought. 'She was indeed missing some of her memories. But why? Not that I could just ask this guy so casually. Given that I am the so-called "brother", it's only natural I know the cause. Asking for the reason is just asking for suspicion.'

"Don't think so. But she's doing fine."

"I see. Are you done?" asked Richard when he noticed I'd long since stopped touching my food.

"Yeah. I'm not really hungry."

"Then, should we go back to your temporary place first?" he asked. "You still have the key, right?"

The key, the one inside the tin box hidden underneath the secret compartment of my luggage when I was looking for clothes earlier.

"Yeah, I still have it, but you would have to wait."

***

Using a rental carriage, I easily arrived back at the slums, but Richard didn't come with me. He didn't really say anything, but I could tell just from the look on his face that he couldn't stand the smell. 

And as soon as I got to my house, I immediately retrieved a candle from the table's drawer where the newspapers lay strewn. There were only two left, so I snapped one in half and, using a knife from the kitchen, I carved some of the wax to reveal the wick, and there, I now had three candles.

I took out the piece of paper Jullian gave me and, using a coal, I copied the symbol on the only door of that tiny house, the front door. I then lit the candles, took a deep breath, and chanted the words at the back of the paper.

"Jullian Foster, creature of lore. Through doors and candles, answer my call. Reveal who you are and appear in form."

I could have used ink, but that would be very hard to remove.

As soon as I finished chanting, the wind blew as the candle flame turned alive, expanding into a tentacle-like being, thrashing about, making me step back a little. I wasn't scared, surprisingly. Just taken aback. Then the door shook a little as the tentacles wrapped around the knob, twisted it, and pulled it open, revealing another door—a bronze door. It didn't take long until Jullian walked out of there, and then the flame returned to normal.

"I was waiting," Jullian said, not standing at the ceremony.

I told him everything that Richard and I talked about at the Busy Bean Diner before asking him a question. "So, d'you think I should go?"

Jullian frowned. "Why are you even asking me that?"

"I'm weak," I answered him matter-of-factly. "A simple thug could easily kill me."

Without further explanation, Jullian let out a hopeless sigh and told me, "Go. I'll be nearby."

"But what was that earlier?" he added after a much needed pause. "You looked like you'd seen a ghost."

I pursed my lips before forcing out a smile. "I'll tell you later."

Truth was, this was just me being the coward that I was. Like usual, I was just running away from the crux of the problem. It would continue like this until they would accumulate into something absolutely unmanageable.

***

Jullian let me borrow some money for the carriage fare and in no time, I arrived at the Salalona Train Station. I easily found Richard by the entrance, reading a newspaper. He was seated on a makeshift stool, a bone thin boy in rugged clothing shining his shoes.

He waved his hands upon seeing me and paid the shoeshiner and we boarded the steam locomotive en route to Valoria.

At this point, I made a number of realizations and I am quite certain about them. First of all, the order at which I saw or inherited the memories wasn't chronological. For instance, Inigo must have had the date with Florence a few days back, or maybe even weeks ago. But just because this scene was shown first didn't mean it happened first. The fact that Richard and I were now riding The Pegasus was enough evidence for that. Because if it were chronological, I would have seen her die first at the Salalona Campus. Obviously, the memories were as incomplete as they could get. Giving me more questions than answers. The scene at which I was by the sea could be first, you know?

The second was the date. If what Jullian told me about inheriting the memories was the standard, then it didn't make sense at all that I had memories of the future, unless I'd been there already. There was only one explanation for this: The regressor.

"What are you reading?" I asked Richard who was seated across from me, one leg crossed over the other, his glasses barely clinging to his nose. "Is that fun?" This was my poor attempt at making conversation. From what I'd observed, Richard and Inigo were closed. So it didn't make sense for me to act all awkward and scared around him. We had to have a conversation some way or another lest he suspect me.

"I would say it's interesting," he told me as he showed me the page he was reading: FAMOUS VIOLINIST, SUSPECTED TO HAVE SOLD HIS SOUL TO THE DEVIL!

Richard then sneered. "It's called a contract, idiots! Why would anyone sell their soul if they could just offer something of equal value? Also, they're no devils!"

My eyes clouded over upon hearing this. That serpent-like, sea creature… I suspected Inigo made a pact with that thing, sold his soul, even. Which resulted in me transmigrating?. But this didn't explain why it had my face reflected in that thing's eyes. Shouldn't the reflection show Inigo instead?

"Haha," I pretended to laugh, squeezing the corner of my eyes a little to feign genuine laughter. "Right? And I bet some grandmas actually believed in that. I feel bad for the violinist."

"Eh? You still hate grandmas, huh. Your mom would have cried a river if she were still alive and heard you just now."

Almost instantly, the smile was wiped off of my face. Richard seemed to have misunderstood it though.

"Ah, my bad. I forgot you hated any mention of it."

"I don't mind."

The excruciating silence resumed and I was starting to get antsy by the second then a moment's flashback. I was buck naked under the rain. A discipline. A plate atop my head. Thick books wrapped in cellophane on both my hands as my grandma had me spread them in the air, not dropping them. Neighbors peering from their windows. No one dared to step up. My grandma shaming me for the whole world to see. My brothers begged her to stop. I was twelve.

***

"We've arrived. Let's go," said Richard to me, tapping my left arm lightly. I had unknowingly fallen asleep in my seat, with a string of drool dripping from the side of my mouth onto my neck. I wiped it off immediately before following Richard as we got off the steam locomotive.

Holding a suitcase with one hand, I let my eyes wander. The most eye-catching of all was the huge sign at the ticketing booth that read: WELCOME TO VALORIA STATION!

People were lined up in a messy line.

"Five slots left! Bound for Lucena!" yelled the barker. A barker was someone who attracted and managed the carriage passengers. They also provide information regarding the route and the fare. The one responsible for collecting the payment and providing change as necessary.

People hurried past, their footsteps echoing against the cold, hard ground. I took a moment to gather my bearings, adjusting to the cacophony of sounds and restless energy that permeated the air.

Suddenly, a stranger careened into me with such force that I stumbled backward and fell on my butt. Before I could gather my wits, he was already on his knees, his hands clasped in a trembling plea for forgiveness. "I'm so sorry, sir," he stammered, his eyes wide with feigned panic. "I didn't mean to bump into you."

My hand instinctively moved to my pocket, where I felt the unmistakable crinkle of paper. Confusion knitted my brow as I withdrew the small, folded note. 

"University of Salalona. 9:30 p.m.," said the note.

As soon as I finished reading it, the stranger had already straightened and disappeared into the throngs of people, as swiftly as he had appeared.

Richard reached out a hand to help me up. "What was that all about? What did the note say?"

I quickly pocketed the crumpled paper, instinctively knowing that its contents were not meant for anyone else's eyes. "I'll explain later," I replied, urgency creeping into my voice. "But for now, we need to catch that man."

Without a moment's hesitation, Richard nodded in understanding and took off after the stranger.

We combed through the bustling station, scanning the sea of faces and searching every nook and cranny, but the stranger had already vanished without a trace.

We lost him.