Alex in Wunderstrande: The Clairvoyance Clock [BOOK ONE]

Chapter XXX: Lessons From the Past

A wave of guilt washed over me, one that stole away my breath and knocked me for a loop. I understood now. The mind-erasing, holding me back from war, keeping me removed from the Clairvoyance Clock...all of it was just to maintain my safety and eliminate the true horrors of my past.

Brody really did have a heart of gold. And I was just a stubborn teenager, living as if I had every right in the world to accuse him of how things had turned out.

In all reality, life's events couldn't have unfolded any better than if they were woven within the grand design of the universe. I had a feeling if Artemidorus were still alive, he would have wholeheartedly agreed.

When I finally returned indoors, I absentmindedly rounded the corner of the hall, oblivious to my collision course with Sheridan until it was too late.

"Oof! Uh...sorry, Professor," I replied, stumbling backward.

"Alex? Are you all right?" Sheridan asked, holding me steady. "Were you outside just now? In the daylight?"

I blinked, mentally wading through the deluge of questions. "Yes and yes. I don't see what the big deal is about going out during the day."

"Neither do I. However, while we're here, we must abide by the laws and restrictions set by our hosts," Sheridan said frankly.

Sighing, I deflected my gaze toward the shiny marble floor.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Sheridan inquired again.

"I just don't understand," I said, my mind still held captive by the haunting images. The chilling laughter of the woman rang out above the noise, echoing throughout my memory.

"Understand what?"

"My visions. They always come in random waves, like film reels playing in my mind while I'm just the spectator," I recollected. "I just—I can't—I'm so confused by all this..."

Sheridan glanced around before nervously adjusting his scarf around his neck. "Come with me," he said quietly, steering me in the direction toward his suite.

When we arrived, he closed the door and ushered me over to a sitting area near the large window.

I sunk into the cushion and watched as Sheridan clasped his hands behind his back. He began pacing the width of the room, darkness swimming just behind his eyes.

"When Brody decided to have your memory wiped, I told him there would be consequences," Sheridan divulged, stopping briefly to glimpse at the metropolitan landscape beyond the window. "One of those consequences was that your hippocampus—the portion of the brain that processes your memories—would be severely marred."

"Okay," I started, "so, what does that mean?"

"For one, it means memories from that point forward will always be extremely difficult to access," Sheridan said, still pacing. "It also means you won't experience memories from your deep past like the average person. You'll always witness them as 'out-of-body' experiences. It's a side effect that cannot be undone."