9. Over the Edge #2
“Two sets of memories occupy my mind. In one, you have always been my son; in the other, you’ve only just arrived.
As the year passed, I chose the memories with you in them.
You brought me the joy that fled with my wife’s passing.
But that resilient voice in my mind persists, reminding me it isn’t real.
I believe that voice is why the woman chose me.
All Safirians hold some portion of Ancestral Blood, but my father and I hold just a bit more, allowing us to sense and resist the galdr of our people.
It allows me to remember the truth even when no one else can.
These two lives have coexisted in my mind for the past year, but I seem to be the only one who recognizes reality.
That is, until tonight. You are starting to separate reality from fantasy for yourself now, aren’t you? ”
Darien stopped pacing, staring at Aagen in horror as he listened to the man he considered to be his father tell him it was all a lie.
He wanted to shout, to run through the door and disappear into the orchards, to fall asleep and wake from this awful dream.
Yet something inside of Darien confirmed the truth of Aagen’s story.
He stepped backward, as if he could escape Aagen’s words, and bumped into the wall. He slid down, dropping his throbbing head into stinging hands.
Darien remembered the stories by the fire and the broth Aagen made him when he fell sick.
How could this man not be the father Darien thought he was?
Yet another set of memories drifted beyond the first. These memories were a vast black sea, empty and tumultuous.
They featured a blond boy with a mischievous grin, a towering man with a curling black beard, the sweet croon of a woman’s voice, a lock of soft white hair, and a pair of sweet green eyes.
“It’s alright to remember, boy,” Aagen said. “I knew this day would come.”
Aagen waited for his reply, but Darien couldn’t find the words to explain what was happening inside of him.
Darien was remembering something. A strange place, the smell of dirt and the hum of bees.
So different from tiled floors and the smell of salt water from his memories.
Two boys listening in on their parents’ conversation.
A revelation. Meeting someone new, who held the hand of a woman with bright green eyes.
Halla’s eyes behind the crates, terrified to be caught.
Larissa stepping in front of her, ready to protect her sister.
The car crash. Anara’s hands on his face. Again, those green eyes.
“What did she look like?” Darien croaked.
“Who?”
“The woman who brought me to you. What did she look like?”
Aagen smiled as if recalling a fond memory.
“She was beautiful, tall, and graceful, but there was also something foreboding about her. I couldn’t stare at her face for more than a few seconds.
Her hair was the color of starlight, woven and braided.
Her eyes were such a bright green, they reminded me of our apples. ”
The pit in Darien’s stomach deepened. He rose to unsteady feet, placing a hand on the wall, breathing hard.
He remembered the woman, and she looked just as Aagen said.
In his mind, he could see her as she smiled down at him.
This memory must have been from his youth because he had to look up to see her face.
She was motioning to someone who hid behind her back.
A golden ribbon peeked out from behind the woman’s legs. It was attached to a young girl. The Princess of Perle.
Darien’s head spun. “Aagen, I have to go.”
“Go where? Anara told you to wait, and I’m convinced that the Norn have sent her to be your guide.”
“I’m remembering something. I have to find Halla and Larissa.”
Aagen growled, stomping his good foot against the wooden floor. “Now isn’t exactly the time to be running after a girl you just met, Darien. The girl said to wait; you must wait.”
“They’re connected to this. I know how it sounds, but I can feel it, Aagen, more strongly than I’ve felt anything before. I think they’re in danger.”
Aagen frowned, but leaned forward all the same. “How do you know that?”
“I don’t.” Darien laughed joylessly. “Obviously, I don’t know much of anything if everything you just told me is true. But I can feel this, and it feels real.”
Aagen hesitated, but only for a moment. He released his hold on the braid in his beard and clapped his large hands together, rising to his feet. “If the Norn are leading you down this path, then who am I to disagree?”
Unsure whether he was meant to follow as Aagen stomped out of sight, Darien waited.
Aagen returned in moments, carrying a large duffel bag that strained against its zipper.
“I’ve had this packed for you ever since your arrival.
I knew that the Norn would collect you one day.
This bag holds clothes, food, and supplies, but they won’t last you longer than a week.
The berry farms start several miles to the northeast of our orchard.
I’m not sure which of these farms belong to your girls, but you should head in that general direction.
It will take you several hours to walk there. ”
“Walk?” Darien asked. “What about the truck?”
Aagen shook his head. “It gave out this morning. I have it torn apart in the shed right now, but it won’t be fixed for hours. Besides, I feel that your journey is just beginning. I don’t think it will lead you back here.”
Darien glanced up, surprised at the gruffness of Aagen’s voice.
Aagen’s eyes, usually so stern, softened at the corners.
He cleared his throat, handing the bag to Darien, who accepted it without a word.
All was quiet as the man and boy stared at one another.
Darien’s heart constricted; even learning that his memories of Aagen were planted in his mind, it did not erase the love he felt for his adoptive father.
“There is something else,” Aagen continued. “The woman gave it to my father, who gave it to me to hold onto until I could give it to you. She said I would know when, and if this isn’t that time, then let me turn to stone when the sun rises.”
Aagen removed something from his pocket and dropped the cold, round object into Darien’s outstretched hand.
The ring’s thick, silver band enclosed a large, square-cut blue sapphire.
A silver casing clasped the gemstone at each of the corners.
It looked well preserved, but Darien noticed a small scratch in the middle of the gem.
When he slipped the ring onto his finger, warmth spread through his body.
There was music in his ears and a tug from the ring that urged him to examine it again.
What he thought was a scratch was a rune hooked like a shepherd’s crook. Sheer power emanated from it.
“It compliments my eyes.” It was all Darien could think to say.
Aagen chuckled, nodding in approval before he grew somber again. “The memories may not all have been real, but my love for you is. You are the only son I have. If it’s alright, I’d like to give you my blessing before you go.”
Darien dipped his head, feeling the lump in his own throat.
Aagen placed both hands on Darien’s shoulders.
“May óeinn, the great wanderer, guide your steps. May Kári’s winds blow you where you must go.
May the Norn be kind in their reading. May your journey be fertile, and your labor yield fruit.
In times of danger and trouble, may your bonds with others hold tight, Darien Aagenson. ”
Darien was unsurprised by the wetness he saw in Aagen’s eyes and the dampness he felt around his own. Regardless of what Aagen said, they would see each other again. “I’ll return, Aagen, and I’ll have my own story to share with you.”
Aagen smiled, the expression crinkling the corners of his eyes. “I’d like that, son.”
The time for further words had passed. Eager to begin his adventure, Darien hefted the bag onto his back, walking out the door of the house that had been his home. It was time to start filling in the gaps of his memory. His real memory.
Pointing himself northeast, he set off through the orchards with the setting sun at his back.