The Garden of Shadows

Memory.

For some decades, old world philosophy had a tradition of linking the self with memory. What we remember makes us who we identify as. It is this sameness and consistency of memories that allows us to shape our sense of self.

But what if we forget? And what if we alter those memories? Would we become a completely different existence from our original selves?

I curled up in bed reading a book on John Locke’s theory of personal identity, something I picked up at Alistair’s shop while hoarding books I thought would help me generate a solution to the Leslie problem. I’d been so caught up with other matters that I nearly forgot about the ticking time bomb that was Leslie Willows.

“What’s wrong, Leslie?” I asked after noticing that she was just sitting on her bed and staring into space. Normally, she’d be chatting with Emma about the latest gossip or Love in Bloomfield Manor.

“I had a nightmare,” Leslie replied, her face riddled with worry. I could tell that she was trying to calm herself down.

“About what?”

“I was inside a bell tower full of snakes. It was terrifying. I was being attacked and there was a girl at the top smiling and watching me. I couldn’t see her face properly though, but she felt very familiar.” Her brow furrowed as she struggled to recall more details. “There’s a belltower at the academy, right? She was probably a student at the academy.”

I cursed in my head. Leslie was starting to regain her memories already. I couldn’t just sit and do nothing about it. My future at the academy was at stake.

I excused myself and left the room to brainstorm an emergency plan in the hallway. I tried to clear my head, but the panic I felt made it difficult for me to think properly of a method to get myself out of the situation. Although I did some reading on magic related to manipulating memory, the material was too advanced for me to attempt on my own without risking a catastrophic failure.

There has to be something I can do.

“You look way too serious today,” Salamander said when he passed by and noticed me.

I paced around nervously. “Leslie is starting to remember what happened at the belltower. If she finds out that I was the one who got her injured, the headmaster will hear about it and I could get expelled.”

He folded his arms and smirked. “Sounds like you’re in a pinch. Why not just brew her a false memory potion?”

“I suck at brewing potions, remember?”

“Right. How about this: you let me drink your blood and I will help solve your problem. Not a bad deal, isn’t it?”

I frowned. “No way.”

He shrugged. “Then I suppose you’ll have to face the consequences of your actions.”

“You know I can just ask Emma, right?”

“And how will you explain it to her?” He doubted me.

I noticed Emma walking down the stairs. “Watch.”

I walked calmly towards her, pretending to be on my way downstairs too. “Hey Emma, could you demonstrate how you brew a false memory potion? Prof. Philomela said I should work on improving mine.”

She smiled. “Of course, Remina. If you have the ingredients ready, I can demonstrate it right now.”

I smirked at Salamander. He rolled his eyes in return.

The false memory potion required me to drop a bit of the liquid on the target’s eyelids while thinking of the memory to be erased. Then, I just needed to imagine the memory to replace it and complete the spell. Of course, there were risks to using the potion. If I placed too much, I could possibly wipe out more than just the intended memory. If I lost concentration midway, I could either accidentally leave traces of the memory to be erased or fail to insert the whole false memory. Still, despite the risks, it was the method most likely to result in a good outcome.

That night, I waited for Leslie to be fast asleep before quietly moving beside her bed. Emma’s bed was in between ours, so I had to tiptoe past her bed to reach Leslie’s. I prepared the potion bottle and the dropper. Just as I was about to begin, Leslie suddenly moved. I quickly dropped down on the floor and crawled under the bed. From there, I watched as Leslie got dressed and quietly left the room.

Where is she going at this ungodly hour?

I hurriedly grabbed my coat and silently snuck out of the room. At the end of the hallway, I saw Leslie exit through the window. There must have been a set of metal stairs on that side of the building for emergencies. I peeked outside the window and saw her going towards an alley. I quickly followed her path down the metal stairs and into the alley.

It was cold outside at night. I was lightly dressed with only my coat to warm me up. I shivered as I hid behind a pile of crates to observe whatever the hell Leslie was doing.

“How long do I have to keep this up? It’s starting to become such a huge pain trying to act nice all the time.” I heard Leslie’s familiar complaining voice. I never thought I would feel relief hearing it instead of her unusual nice tone.

My jaw dropped. Leslie was just pretending this whole time? I should have disposed of her earlier.

“Just a bit longer. The museum opening is already drawing near. After that, our agreement will be complete. I’ll fulfil my end of the bargain and get your memories back.” It was an older female’s voice. Unfortunately, it was unfamiliar and my hiding spot couldn’t provide me with a good view of her face.

They lingered for some time to discuss Leslie’s observations about the Crowe family and even Salamander. They seemed to be aware of the true nature of the Crowes and Salamander’s identity as a Blackthorn. Who exactly was this lady?

“One more thing. Do you know anyone named Remina?” My eyes widened upon hearing my name mentioned. The mysterious lady produced a copy of The Revival Review, showing Leslie what was probably the poem with my name on it.

“Yes. I have a roommate named Remina.”

“Keep an eye on her. Make sure she doesn’t interfere.”

“Why Remina?” Leslie couldn’t see the connection.

“To put it simply, she is the serpent’s wildcard. An extraneous variable he introduced as a chaotic gamble. This work by Ophelia confirms it.”

The serpent’s wildcard?

When I noticed that they were about to part ways, I rushed to the hotel’s regular entrance, passing by Henry Crowe who was manning the front desk. He gave me a few curious looks. I paid him no mind and ran up the stairs, eventually reaching the hotel room before Leslie. I quickly hid under Emma’s bed.

Leslie went inside and changed back to her sleeping attire. She still hadn’t noticed that my bed was empty. I snapped my finger and froze her in place the moment she closed her eyes in bed. Completely disregarding the warnings written in the book of potions, I ditched the dropper and just dumped all of the liquid in the bottle on her eyelids. She can go ahead and lose her whole memory for all I care.

For now, she isn’t going to be a problem, but whoever she was talking to will be.

Leslie was working for someone as a spy. I had to find out their motives and identity as soon as possible.

“Good morning, Leslie,” Emma greeted our fellow roommate.

Leslie looked around her, unfamiliar with her surroundings. Her eyes were going back and forth between me and Emma. “Who are you?”

“I’m Emma. Your roommate?”

“Where am I?”

Emma spent some time asking her basic questions. It turned out the potion really was effective. In fact, Leslie remembered nothing except a little of her childhood memories.

Emma pulled me aside. “Remina, this is terrible! Leslie can’t remember anything.” She was genuinely worried. Then, she noticed the lack of empathy on my face. “Did you… use that potion on her?”

I examined Emma’s expression. Did I really trust her to keep secrets? I remained silent.

After seeing that I refused to say anything regarding the matter, she said, “We’ve been roommates for a while now, but I still feel like I barely know anything about you. Why would you do this to Leslie?”

“Emma, I’ll keep your secret and you keep mine. I’ll stay out of your business and you stay out of mine,” I said calmly.

She looked hurt. “That’s rather cold.”

“Unfortunately, that’s how it goes when you have skeletons in your closet.”

“And our friendship? You’re the one I trust most in the whole academy, but you don’t reciprocate that trust.”

“How about a trade then? My information for yours. Show me what happened with your half-sister, then I’ll tell you everything about my issue with Leslie.”

She shook her head. “No. No way, Remina.” She hurriedly left. There was no room for negotiation.

That day, we were scheduled to view a performance at the Revival Theatre, home of the largest opera and ballet company of Revival City. The theatre often held various weekly shows and also served as a venue for plays and live musical events. With its massive auditorium that captured the grandeur of 19th century neoclassical architecture, it was no wonder that it became a favourite landmark of tourists and locals.

I stood beside Elliot and Salamander as we lined up for our seat assignments at the opera house entrance. We were each given a playbill and a paper outlining the essay assignment we were to submit within the week. Although I was not looking forward to writing another essay, I was excited to watch the performance. Shows like opera and ballet were out of reach in my hometown. I never thought I’d even get a chance to step into a beautiful theatre such as this.

Salamander was busy reading the playbill while my eyes wandered. “The Magic Flute, huh? I’ve seen this one before with my parents. My snake doesn’t really enjoy it because they kill a serpent in act one.”

“I’ve never watched a live opera before,” Elliot said, admiring his surroundings like a true tourist.

“Me neither,” I followed.

Salamander looked up from his booklet. “It will certainly be quite an experience for you both. The performers for this afternoon’s show are among the city’s best.”

Soon, we began moving into the auditorium and found our seats. Salamander excused himself and left temporarily to use the restroom. While waiting for the show to begin, Henry Crowe moved in and sat on the empty seat beside me.

“That’s Aidan’s seat,” I said to him.

He remained seated. “I know. I’m only borrowing it for a short while.”

“I didn’t know you were interested in opera.”

“Forgive me for being nosy, but I’m very curious to find out why you were running around last night in a nightgown,” he went straight to the point. I guessed he wasn’t up for pleasantries.

“Is that any of your concern?”

“It is if our hotel guest is conducting any shady dealings.”

“I can assure you that it was nothing of that sort.”

“It’s also a concern of mine if it’s anything related to what you discussed with Father.”

I glanced at Henry, trying to decide whether it was worth getting his help. This did involve him after all and that lady was probably his family’s enemy, so we were on the same side for that matter. “Someone left a spy in the hotel. I don’t know who yet. I was following them last night.”

“A spy, huh? I might have an idea who it is they work for, but I’ll look into it first before I tell you my conclusion. You’ll hear from me again soon.” He stood up and left just as Salamander was returning to his seat.

“Was that Henry Crowe? What did he want?” Salamander asked as he watched the eldest Crowe brother walk away.

“He was just giving a few tips,” I replied.

Act one of the opera began before Salamander had a chance to ask me any more questions. After the overture, the lost prince Tamino entered the stage being chased by a serpent. He fainted and three ladies soon appeared to slay the serpent, who they called a monster. For some reason, I felt uncomfortable watching the scene. I wondered whether it was because of my association with a serpent entity or the influence it exerted on me that made me feel some form of sympathy for the defeated fictional serpent on stage.

In the middle of the performance, I glanced at Salamander and noticed that he did not look well. His head drooped dangerously to one side like he had no energy left to keep it up. His brows furrowed like he was suffering from a perpetual headache. The room was cool, but he was sweating a little.

“Salamander? Are you alright?” I whispered to him.

“I’m just having a bad headache,” he replied.

“From the opera singing and the sight of people dancing in animal costumes?”

“I doubt it. It’s probably from the lack of nutrition.”

“By nutrition, you mean blood, right?”

“Of course I mean blood, Remina. I’m starving right now. I wish I could let you know just how much of a pain it really is.”

“I wonder. Would your gift work to fix it?”

“I can’t. My gift is dangerous to the people I use it on. I’ve already used it on you once and I nearly lost you. I’d rather avoid that situation again.” He took a deep breath and wiped the sweat off his face with his handkerchief.

He finally convinced me to let go of my selfishness. It was after all my decision to have him walk the path of vampirism. It wasn’t his fault that he needed blood to live. “Fine. I’ll let you drink my blood tonight.”

“A few drops from your finger again?”

“No. You clearly need more blood than that. We can go to my room during dinnertime while everyone else is at the café.”

He smiled victoriously. “I’ll see you tonight then.”

“Wipe that grin off your face before I change my mind.”