For years I've felt lost, or like I've lost something. Something amazing, and grand. I feel like I let so many people down. Myself and an untold number of others. I'm in college now, and yet I can't seem to care. There was something I knew, and I can't stop trying to think of what it was. I live in a rented house with 4 other roommates in a suburb outside of New York. I go to NYU and day after day I exist. I show some semblance of care, but it means nothing. Not when I feel lost and hopeless. Every night I have dreams. Terrible amazing dreams of awesome powers, other worlds, and a dark presence laughing maniacally. I want to fight it, but I can't. It knows it, and It revels in my fear and weakness. One day out of the blue I go to the library. I've avoided it for years due to a feeling of loss whenver I go near, but something compels me to go today. I pass by the junior high, and notice something odd. I feel as if something is out of place. I hear a BANG and a car appears. Don't know what make or model and I don't care. It appears out of THIN AIR, and nobody seems to notice. Another BANG and another. A cactus, a TV. I shake my head in confusion, and walk quickly to the library. I go and for the first time in years enjoy a good book. I get lost in fantasies of worlds near and far. My feelings of loss and that incident forgotten, I go through school and from then on my feelings of loss and sadness are lessened. I know I've lost something, but for some reason I know others had the strength to do what I couldn't. That they can fight whatever that darkness is and win. I finish school and start my dream of writing. Sci-Fi or Fantasy seem to be my focus. I get strange dreams that inspire me. Walking and talking trees, Large intelligent centipedes, a race who's sun got incredibly out of balance and nearly destroyed their planet, with but one of their people to save them all. Fantasies of other universes becoming real, and a hero facing all odds to save people from a terror the multi-verse fears. An evil that can't be destroyed, but sealed away every 10,000 years. And people from the many universes band together to fight that evil.
Years later, I'm a pretty successful writer, and I decide to do a book signing in a small book store in the city for a new release coming out soon. In walks two girls, one seeming to be a freshman or sophomore in high school the other a brand new college student. They walk over to the shelves, and each looking for something. Finding what they were looking for, they go and pay. They walk over to me and the younger one asks, "Could you sign these? I know they're your older ones, but this ones my favorite, and the one my sister Nita is holding is hers." I look and see that the girl who spoke is holding the one I wrote about a planet who had one protector that saved them all from a disaster the sun's near destruction caused. This girl sacrificing her life to make sure her planet was safe. I say "Sure, of course and who do I make this out to?"
"Dairine. And your stories are incredibly heart felt and well thought out. Almost as if you had been there. Have you by any chance been on errantry before?" For some reason that phrase seems familiar, but I can't place where. I hand her the book and reply, "Not that I know of. But that phrase seems familiar, and it makes me feel like I've lost something incredible, something important." At this I hand the book back to her. She thanks me with a smile, and the other girl walks up. "My sister and I really love your work. It's almost as if you have been to these places and done these things." I look at her book. It's the first in a trilogy I wrote about a group of heroes who have to save multiple universes by finding and fixing the "cores" of the many worlds from being corrupted. "I certainly wish I had. Perhaps maybe I did in a past life, or as a kid, and I simply forgot. Your sister said you were Nita is that correct?"
"Yea that's fine. My friend Kit couldn't show. He had a test to finish. School is more important and all that, right? May I get something signed for him as well?"
I reply, "Sure, would you like to get a book or use the newest?"
"I think I'll use the newest."
"Ok. Here we go. You said his name was Kit?"
"Yeah thanks. You've been real great. I can see why people like you. Your willing to sit and answer questions when you really don't have to."
"Thanks, though it was nothing. I have no problem talking to fans. And your sister renewed an old desire I had long since forgotten. The desire to remember what it is I lost."
"I see, well good luck on that, and Dái Stiho cousin." For some reason that strange phrase seemed incredibly familiar. I can't remember why. I finished up the book signing and left in a daze. For years after that, I tried to remember what I lost. I came close, but never discovered it. Years past, and I retired. I was successful, but at the same time I felt empty. I failed to ever find what it was I was missing. One day though I received an email from an anonymous fan. It said, "This phrase will not have the power it used to, but it might help you fulfill your dream of recalling what you lost."
In Life's name and for Life's sake, I say that I will use the Art for nothing but the service of that Life. I will guard growth and ease pain. I will fight to preserve what grows and lives well in its own way; and I will change no object or creature unless its growth and life, or that of the system of which it is part, are threatened. To these ends, in the practice of my Art, I will put aside fear for courage, and death for life, when it is right to do so - till Universe's end.
It all came back. The Wizardry! Not the power, but the memories. All the stories I wrote, they were me expressing what I lost. I went to sleep and dreamt amazing dreams, finally at peace. Timeheart called to me. I answered that call finally having no regrets.