Cleansing Memories in Ғɪʀᴇ

[Chapter 2] Chipping away

"They always say time changes things, but you actually have to change them yourself."

~Andy Warhol

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The village deteriorated over time and crumpled down to rotted wood and thatch with a ruined stone wall protecting it. The castle alone remained almost fully intact, a testament to ancient magic and brilliant engineering and craftsmanship. Even so, time still took its toll and the edges, once sharp and neat, were worn to curves and some of the smaller towers were on the verge of collapsing. The windows had been broken and cracked, any items left behind by its previous inhabitants long disintegrated to dust and the streets were thick with tendrils, grass and weeds. It was in this state that High King Notch and King Steve found it with their long train of people, and it was from this state that they repaired it.

Over the years, they rebuilt the castle and the village, pushing back nature and confining it to groves and meadows, resurrecting the surrounding stone wall and filling the storage rooms again. Children were born and they grew among the village; playing, laughing, talking, marrying, raising a family, growing old and dying. Yet Notch and Steve remained the same, as constant as the castle in which they looked after the people, both in their own village and in every village they could reach. Many believed them to be immortal, but the truth was that they simply lived enormously long lives. Outside of their kingdom, people still lived under the rule of others, but in their own rule, they established a just and fair system, treating the nobles with the same amount of respect as the commoner.

Magic was also prevalent in this kingdom, as it was in every kingdom throughout all time. Unlike many kingdoms of the day, sorcerers and magic-users lived openly and without fear, using their magic freely to help both themselves and the people around them. Near the castle of the two Kings, a building had been built specifically for the purpose of helping sorcerers learn and train, both in their magic and their knowledge of herbs and concoctions to heal and harm, under the head sorcerer.

One such head sorcerer at a certain time, a middle-aged man by the name of Wolfgang, trained several apprentices, growing them in both their use of magic and general knowledge of magical and non-magical illnesses, poisons and antidotes, architecture and history. He was also a close friend of the two Kings and was often seen in the castle or walking with one of the two, deep in discussion about both things of state and personal interests. A topic that seemed to consume Wolfgang was the ancient magic that was infused into the very bricks of the castle, but he soon became fixated on a very specific feeling.

On one particular day, after taking part in a formal meeting with most of the Senior Commanders and, of course, the two Kings, Wolfgang stopped for the millionth time in the past week, his hands in his pockets, his long, deep blue cloak swishing around his feet. Steve, who had been walking next to him, stopped with a sigh.

"Alright, what is it now?" he asked.

"I'm still getting that feeling," Wolfgang said, a furrow developing in his forehead, his deep brown eyes appearing to be pure black. "There's something magic here, I know it."

"Well, it is a castle sustained by magic, so it makes sense," Steve said, but Wolfgang dismissed this instantly.

"This is something else," he insisted. "I don't know where it's coming from, but I know it's there. It's an older magic, but not as old as what holds the castle. It's slightly different too, but I don't know how."

Steve crossed his arms, thinking. "Is it dangerous?"

Wolfgang considered the question. "I don't think so. It feels threatening, but not threatening to us, if that makes any sense."