A Self-Study Within A Broken Mind

I came back on the last Monday before Christmas. It was going to be a short week at work, but I was sure it would be as difficult as always around this time of the year. Countless people wanted to take time off, leaving the work in less experienced hands. I entered the library at the main large room, with my shimmering green clothing already on. Fyntn appeared from a portal at the top of the stairs as if to urge me to come up. When I did not, he walked through and arrived next to me at another portal. “Hey, Fyntn,” I said. “Think we have a chance today?” “Even if not today, are you going to stop trying?” “No, you’re right,” I said, nodding. “Doesn’t matter how long it takes. Even if I can’t get them back together until next year. I’ll try until I can bring them back.” Fyntn said nothing more, only created a portal into a darkness that opened up to the three beds crowded in the conjoined room upstairs. We stepped through as the back of one claw smoothed the air to patch the portal small...

I came back the next day, following a read through of when Fyntn found out about my reality core binding to a seed of thought. It was a fun time, but now was no time at all. I sat at the controls again, in some sort of temporal bubble that Akier somehow had a way of manipulating. Last time, I heard him whispering in my ear, but only after I wound time back. The ten-cut still blazed white light on a frozen scene, as I hesitated over the orb to wind time back. There had to be a way to rewind time to before Akier was realized in Tarne. If only Fyntn could assist me here. He had to be familiar with this setup. I tried winding time back again, this time not moving from the spot in the library that I hovered. Tarne wound back to before the lunge, and Fyntn got put back together, but Akier did not walk back upstairs backwards like before. Instead, he just sat on the couch again, this time grinning like mad. I flew closer to see if he knew where I was again, but he just kept looking ahead, gri...

I came back a few days later on Easter Sunday’s end. Much of the pageantry by the coming of spring was lost to the quarantine of the virus still wreaking havoc in the world, but at the very least I boiled some eggs and ate them with a bit of borsch dissolved from powder. That was the weakness of tradition rooted in me long ago, and it proved to be a difficult memory to shake. As long as the traditions did not offend or hurt anyone, save for some unborn chickens, I was ok with giving it the standard effort. I arrived at the room downstairs from the library to find it empty. In a state of strange melancholy I gravitated to the invisible laptop on the table now moved into the corner. Lila had to have done that for some reason, but the four chairs still fit at the available sides with two to each side. There was no point in keeping the laptop hidden anymore, so I made it visible again with a motion. What did I say last time to hear her voice again? “I…” I said, but trailed off. What was th...