Again, I was seeing into my 13-year-old self, nervous and downhearted. The cold, sterile light from the hospital lamps did nothing to alleviate my grief, it made me feel oppressed and guilty.

"The doctors told me he's okay, Lume," said the nameless red-haired boy next to me, the one who found me 7 days ago in the middle of flames and debris. "If you want, I can come in with you."

"Not a good idea," I replied, without taking my eyes off the door to my father's room. "L-Let me explain what happened, besides, it will be more difficult if I have to introduce you, he'll think you're my boyfriend or something."

"I wouldn't mind, now I think about it." he laughed.

Without reacting to what the redhead had said, I entered the room.

My father was laying on a gurney, connected to some devices that monitored his vital signs, he was eating a plate of jelly while he watched cartoons on his phone, he didn't seem to have burns or signs of having been in serious danger  while I still had bruises and scratches from the incident.

"Lume!" He greeted cheerfully, trying to hug me, but the medical instruments on the bed prevented him. "Let me see you! Why are you still not fully healed?"

"The doctor says I don't need a healing spell but you… They said you were pretty bad..."

"It wasn't that bad."

I swallow thick and dared to ask:

"How many years?"

"You don't need to know, Lume. It's silly to even worry-"

"How many years, Dad !?" I screamed, trying to contain my crying.

"Twelve." my father replied in a calm tone, trying to sound nonchalant, as if it were nothing.

Healing spells consist of accelerating the body's natural abilities; wounds or injuries that take months to heal do it in seconds, but that miracle has a cost, the body ages the time it would have taken to heal normally.

My knees trembled and I lost the strength to stand, I could barely support myself, but I held the stretcher to ready myself somewhat.

"Lume!" My father grabbed hold of me, and he helped me regain my balance. "Don't worry, it's nothing, I'm fine now, son."

I held back the tears that insisted on trying to escape my eyes, I had contained my anguish all week.

"Of course you're not fine! I took 12 years off your life!" I answered, avoiding his gaze. "Dad, the explosion... I-I killed so many people, I left others mutilated, I can’t speak with Sid anymore, because of me his father is dead... And the worst thing is that nobody blames me, nobody punishes me, nobody-"

"Say no more," my father turned my face towards him firmly and looked at me more seriously than ever. "You were never there!"

"But! " I tried to refute but he held me harder.

"I'll take care to cover up the matter fully later, but you can't mention what happened to anyone, Lume." His firm tone was firm, intimidating.

"What did you do, Dad?" I muttered, scared.

"Your mother and I suspected this could happen one day. That you could lose control and "explode" so to speak, so I made sure to place an enchantment on you the day you were born." 

With every word, I felt like I was getting dizzy.

"I don't understand, Dad. An enchantment for what?" My breathing was beginning to get heavy, doubting if I really wanted to hear.

"An occlusion spell, similar to the veil we use to conceal magic. Only that this one is designed to hide memories, even from the memory of the world, the very idea that you had something to do with this incident is banned from history. No one will ever associate you with what happened that day."

I could not believe that my father had such power, or that something like that was possible, although more than amazement I was afraid of the implications.

How many things has he hidden from the arcanum? How many things could he have hidden from me? It almost made me nauseous to suspect that he had made me forget something.

"People deserve to know what happened that day!" I yelled, holding back my panic, I couldn't believe the kind of person my father was. "Sid needs to know what happened to his father!"

“They'll know enough to keep you out of this, Lume!” His voice rose slightly, silencing me for a moment.

"But..."

"Son, the power you inherited from your mother made me lose her… it made us lose her, let me protect you from them, or else they will take you away from me too"

"I... even so... I don't know..." I sighed, unsure. I understood what he was saying, why he was doing it, but I couldn’t stop the feeling that I deserved a punishment.

My father, exasperated, rubbed his eyes and removed the cables that monitored his condition.

"If you want, I can make you forget everything too."

He said it in a dry and bitter tone, with a frankness which he had never spoken to me.

"I can’t allow myself to forget!" I cried out, succumbing to my boiling up panic. "Let me at least carry the weight on my conscience."

"It will be like waking up from a dream, you won't even remember that you forgot something." My father inhaled deeply, his aura subtly beginning to sparkle with small golden stars. "You don't understand now, but ignorance is happiness, and the new you will be happy."

I panicked, I wanted to run. But could I even escape? Although my father was in recovery, he still qualified to be an archmage, I had no hope of running away if his intention was indeed to erase my memory.

My father exhaled slowly, expanding his aura with his breath. I felt lighter, of mind and body, I stopped thinking, I stopped wishing, I was about to cease to exist.

"Wait!"

The room’s door slammed open.

The redhead stepped between my father and me, he grabbed my arm and threw me into the hall.

"Run!" He yelled.

I still felt like my mind was wandering, but my survival instinct clung to his words and made me react. I ran away, not knowing where to flee.

I ran as fast as I could, until I felt my legs burn, away from his room, away from the hospital, further than I ever had been within myself, until I reached an abyss that I have not yet emerged from today.

Suddenly, I felt the flow of my thoughts bring me to the present, to me looking in the mirror.