The Memories

Dusk had fallen. The moon now peeked over the mountains, dull, silver light cutting through the pitch-blackness.

Once they had eaten, the demon lizards retreated to their dens, leaving Victor, Seraph, and Esper to themselves. Esper ushered them to a small den on the outskirts of the camp, where he lit a campfire.

Victor crouched on the dry ground, the soft warmth of the campfire ticking his face. Ereith’s humid weather had quickly turned chilly, and Victor was thankful for the source of heat. Seraph sat close beside him, knees drawn to his chest. Esper sat in front of them, absentmindedly sticking a twig into the flames.

Swallowing, Victor let his gaze fall on Seraph. They hadn't spoken since the hunting incident, and Victor was worried. His friend didn't look well. Seraph’s skin looked somewhat sallow, his pink eyes no longer brimming with their intense energy. Seraph slumped his shoulders as he stared blankly into the horizon, like he was thinking. Victor had noticed how thoughtful Seraph had become lately. And he knew how thinking too much affected his nerves.

Victor tugged at his shirt collar. “Hey, Seraph?”

Seraph twitched in surprise. “Yes, Victor? Is there something wrong?”

Victor pulled at his knuckles, keeping his eyes low. He could feel his heart beating madly in his chest.

“Ser, are you sick? You really scared me earlier. Like, um, that's not how you're supposed to throw up. Uh, unless spirits just get sick differently, then, um-”

Esper suddenly stiffened, becoming alert.

Seraph rubbed his face. “Do not concern yourself over me. It is just a cough, nothing more.”

Victor frowned, hearing the apprehension in his voice. “Are you sure? You don't look good.”

Seraph pushed a lock of his curly hair out of his eyes bashfully. “I have just been thinking.”

“About what? You can tell me this kinda stuff. We're friends,” Victor urged, laying a hand on Seraph’s shoulder.

Sighing, Seraph knitted his eyebrows. “It is just, I have been considering whether I really want to be a doctor. I love the concept of healing, but, I...I am also fascinated by you and your parents. The life of a mercenary looks amazing.”

Victor blinked, not sure what to say.

“Back when Lacertille attacked us, I felt alive. Fighting, attacking, defending someone is so invigorating. Do you understand, Victor?”

Victor nodded. “Yeah, I get you…”

Seraph looked flustered, almost on the verge of tears. “I mean, I know this is my purpose, and I must fulfil it, but I...it just does not feel as right as I think it should feel.”

Esper brushed a finger across the bandages around his face. “Seraph,” he suddenly hissed, “Defying your mother is very serious. That is a deadly mistake I don't want you to make.”

Seraph’s attention turned to Esper, who was now standing. “What?”

“Do you know what happens to a spirit when you defy those monsters, Seraph?” Esper mood had rapidly changed. He was livid, fists clenched.

“What is wrong with you? Why does it matter to you?” Seraph growled, cheeks flushed.

Runes erupted onto the ground, basking the three in harsh pink light. Arcane symbols surrounded Victor and Seraph, their power being provided by Esper.

Seraph grabbed Victor, holding him tight. “This is a memory spell! What are you doing?”

Esper’s shoulders heaved up and down, his breath ragged. “Do you want to know why those spirits wanted to kill me? Do you want to see through my eyes, or what's even left of them?”

Magic surged through the runes, and Victor's eyesight started to become tinged with pink. His head was spinning.

“Esper?” Victor slurred, staring up at Esper. The spirit's face was contorted with emotion, and he didn't seem quite as furious as Victor initially thought he was. Esper now seemed more...distressed.

Esper covered his face, trembling. He ignored Victor, mumbling under his breath. Was he activating the spell?

In a flash, Victor’s consciousness was altered, and he was thrown into a sea of white.

Author's Note- the ride never ends :)