The next day I was still exhausted. I had gotten very little sleep and hadn't fully recovered from the previous day's events.
I had stayed up late for most of the night, going over what my mother told me and making sure what I saw was, in fact, my mother and not something posing as her, but nothing I knew of could mimic her to that extent.
Her smile, her voice, her body language, the Ember Flowers blooming—it all pointed to it being her.
But for some reason, I couldn't let it go. I had heard of magic that lets people infuse magic into weapons, but I had never heard of a spell that could keep a soul around for longer than normal, other than a binding ritual. But that is a permanent thing, and she only stayed temporarily.
Eventually, I calmed myself down enough and told myself I would get my answers when I searched her desk.
I decided to leave it for now, but another thought came to mind right before I closed my eyes. 'this is the second time a possible Dragonian appeared. Can they use Time Magic and want to meet me or was it something else...'
As I thought about it, I drifted off to sleep.
As I went about my current morning routine—getting dressed, eating breakfast, talking with some villagers, and figuring out the plan for the day—I did feel slightly at peace.
I got to say goodbye to my mother. I will miss her, but I know she is in a better place.
I also remembered my family from my old world and now understand how they must have felt. It is a little odd, but it made me feel slightly closer to them, but also happy that no matter where I am, I will remember them all—my family from both worlds.
Eventually, Erik explained that the plan wouldn't change from yesterday, but today, instead of identifying people, we would bring them to the outskirts of the village and hold a funeral for them tomorrow night.
I decided to go to my house today and search for anything important, and check if my mother's desk was still intact.
And... maybe avoid seeing my mother's body.
The way I reacted yesterday was terrifying for all of us, and I don't want to risk it again.
Terra, Rirki, and I walked to my house while Erik helped organize everything for the funeral.
When I reached my house, I was surprised that it was completely intact other than the front door being ripped off.
I stepped into the house and looked around.
The couch and coffee table we would play board games on, the kitchen where me and Mom would cook meals, and the bookcase containing stories and history we all liked to read—it was all still here and untouched.
Rirki and Terra started to check the main rooms while I headed to the more... private areas.
I walked over to the door to my father's workshop and forge and opened it. I was never allowed inside while he was working on anything, but I did sneak inside on occasion when I could.
It looked the exact same as the last time I was in here.
The forge and anvil are set up with a barrel of tools next to it, a bench with chisels and pliers, a grinding wheel in the corner, and the chimney above to collect the smoke.
It all looked impossibly the same and yet so different at the same time. Knowing my father would never be here again gave me an empty feeling.
I checked around and made note of the tools I should bring with me, then left and checked the rest of the first floor.
I started in the living room and moved to the kitchen, noting every important thing I should bring with me.
Next, I went to my room on the first floor. As I opened the door, I could see several things all over the place.
My bed was unmade, clothes lying in a pile everywhere but the hamper, some books I left on the corner, a carving knife on my desk and some pencils and paper next to it, toys and crafts I made when I was younger—it all brought back more memories every time I looked at another item.
I started going through my things and found some things I had completely forgotten about—things I played with when I was little, old drawings, books Mom read to me at night, and so much more. But I knew I couldn't bring everything, so I placed a few items on my bed for later.
Finally, I headed to my mother's lab. This room I was allowed in all the time and came to watch Mom work on new spells or decipher magic texts.
When I entered, I saw several shelves with bottles of different powders, liquids, and dried herbs she would use for potions; magical items she was identifying; jewelry with magic cast on them; and even a cursed sword they found last year (I avoided it).
Mom's desk was built by Dad, out of Oakwood. Despite not being very good with woodworking, he spent a whole year making it and managed to make it look like a professional made it.
I walked over and saw 2 things: Mom's spell book, opened to a page with a description of a spell, and a letter enclosed in an envelope with my name on it.
I decided to check the book first.
Mom would transcribe spells and their descriptions into her spell book, kind of like what I do with the leather book.
When I looked at the book, I saw the description was the same as what Mom did.
'she must have only just learned it' I thought
I started to read the page in detail, but to summarise it:
The magic she used was an old spell that could only be cast when dying.
It allows a person to temporarily infuse their soul into a weapon or object, kind of like how Volt can merge with my wand.
In the case of my father's sword, it allowed him to engulf the blade in fire and/or cast fire spells with the sword. It is extremely powerful magic, but it does have limits.
The mage can only make the bond in 2 ways, but both involve the loved ones of the mage.
The first and cruel option involves a one-sided love of a mage towards another person. If the person kills the mage by stabbing them in the heart when they are casting a spell, their soul will enter a state of rage and confusion and be infused with the weapon that killed them, to remain in the mortal world to find out why it happened.
This option allows for more power, but less control.
The second way involves a mutual love for someone, and it's the way my parents used it. If a mage suffers a fatal blow and is near their love, they can use the last of their power and transfer a part of their soul into their weapon in the hope of the other surviving.
The stronger the conviction and hope the mage has, the stronger the power of the weapon.
This method also allows a mage to give a message to their love.
This method offers perfect control and can be more powerful than the first option, but is harder to achieve as it requires true love and understanding of both parties.
I let a tear fall as I read this. My parents loved each other, and Mom sacrificed herself in order to save both me and Dad.
I did notice that the soul can't manifest as it did though with this spell, so it was confusing. Then I realized that spiritual energy is soul energy—did I infuse my energy into the sword, allowing her to manifest when I was about to Surge?
It was an interesting thought I would keep in mind for later.
After I finished reading the page, I placed the book down and picked up the letter. I stared at it for a little bit but decided to hold onto it for later, as I had things to do and didn't want to break down again right now.
Next, I checked the drawer for what the Dragonian said to me when I was a baby.
I opened the drawer Mom told me about and searched everything inside of it but found nothing.
I tried thinking about what she said. 'Check my desk under the top left drawer'
'...under?' I checked the bottom of the drawer and found a hole in the bottom.
A memory came to mind from my past life, and I realized something. I checked the desk and found a stick of magic chalk [1] on it. I grabbed it and noted it was the same size as the hole.
I emptied the drawer of its contents and stuck the chalk into the hole.
The false bottom of the desk raised, and I pulled it out.
Inside, I found several notes about dangerous magic items and maps to hidden treasures. At the very bottom, I found a letter with writing in another language.
It was short, but completely gibberish.
'Maybe it's some sort of code or cipher? I will have to try it later on.' I thought
I put the note down and noted that a fire rune was at the bottom of the drawer. The chalk from before, when pushed in, moved a part of the rune out of the way, breaking it.
As I looked at it, I could tell it was designed so that if someone noticed the false bottom and tried to open it any other way than I did, then the rune would activate and burn everything inside.
Smiling at Mom's creativity and determination to hide secrets (and remembering a scene from a show I watched in my old life), I pocketed the note and started to check the rest of the lab.