Jane walked into the house, feeling as close to exhaustion she could without passing out. It had been a successful mining trip, her backpack heavy with plenty ores, to be smelted in the morning. She kicked off her boots haphazardly, not looking where they landed.
"Jane," Harvey called from the bedroom.
"Hey," she said from the chest, sorting her minerals. "Don't you have to head to the clinic tomorrow? Shouldn't you be sleeping?"
"You know, I really should be. Unfortunately, I have a newborn and a toddler that keep crying every other hour." His voice sounded like ice.
Jane paused at the chest, surveying her organization before walking into the bedroom. "Hun? What's wrong?" Jane asked.
Harvey was sitting up in their bed, arms crossed. "What's wrong? Do you have any idea what time it is?"
"Uh-"
"It's precisely 1:52am! And guess what?! You came back at 1:47am the day before that! And the trend continues! In fact, I don't remember a night you returned before 12:00am!" He was whispering, but Jane could hear him clearly.
"So?" Jane responded defiantly.
"So?!" Harvey look bewildered. "So?! You leave home at 6am, then it's a guessing game as to when you'll come back home! And that leaves me to take care of the town, then come home and take care of our kids by myself!"
"You could call Penny to babysit more," Jane responded, unreadable.
"I could, but the poor girl is overworked as it is, and for some reason I like to spend time with my kids!" he said, exasperation growing.
"Well then, if that's the case, why don't you spend all your time with them? Why don't you sell the clinic? You know you barely turn a profit on the place, yet you still keep it running!" Jane sighed, frustrated. "I'm the one making all the money in this house, working late to keep us afloat and you're telling me that I should spend more time with the kids?!"
"I am NOT selling the clinic, and you're one to talk about 'staying afloat'," Harvey shot back. "We have enough money to stay afloat for the rest of our lives! You're just obsessed!" He was trembling with rage. "All you care about is money! I feel like a single father! You haven't done anything for our kids since you gave birth to them! Why do you want to miss our babies growing up?!"
"Why are you being so selfish?! I work so hard for our family and you-" Jane was interrupted by a wail. Harvey immediately pulled himself to his feet.
"You can go to bed. I need to take care of my baby," he mumbled tiredly, all fight gone.
Jane turned, opened the door and left, leaving the door swinging in the summer air.
Jane stayed by the hat shop, the most remote place of town she could think of. Somehow, even in the summer air, she was chilled to the bone. Perhaps it was the dull shock, the memory playing over and over that kept her up.
"I can't believe him," she said softly. "Doesn't he know how hard this is..? Why is he being so unreasonable?!"
She thought about her babies, with their wide eyes, fragile necks and small hands. She'd never wanted them, but she felt almost obliged. She always knew Harvey would be a wonderful father. So she had them, and that should've been the end.
A panic was rising in her. This wasn't their first fight. It wouldn't be their last. It could only get worse. It would spiral and spiral until they saw each other with ugly eyes and ugly words. Perhaps it was already upon that. They had brought out the ugliest parts of each other.
As the sun gleamed in the sky, Jane walked knocked on the mayor's door, not even batting an eye at his bathrobed appearance.
"I need divorce papers."
When Jane arrived back at the house, any traces of him were gone. The house was empty, quiet.
Only to be interrupted by the wails of the infant. She sighed, grabbing a bottle and heading upstairs. The contract had made it clear that she had custody of the children, mostly because she was the one with the space for a nursery.
"Here you go," she murmured, but the baby expertly avoided the bottle, wails growing louder.
"Okay, okay! She checked the diaper, checked for fever, checked everything she could think of, but the crying wouldn't stop.
She felt panic rising in her throat. "Stop- it's okay! It's okay! Stop crying, and I'll give you whatever you could ever want," she rocked the wrinkled lump of flesh back and forth crooning half-heartedly. "Oh, what do you want? I'll get if for you, sweet. Just say the word and I'll give it to you, I swear." Nothing, she still felt nothing. The other one had woken up, joining the screeching.
Jane stole a glance out the window. This wasn't right, she shouldn't be doing this. The baby was unnatural in her arms, her cries a foreign language she couldn't understand. Jane dared to look down, stealing a glance at her blotchy face. It didn't look right in her arms. It didn't even look human.
Jane entered the clinic, her chest heaving. Harvey stood at the counter, averting his eyes immediately. She couldn't help but staring – his eyes were wringed dark circles, his glasses dirty and his hair unkempt.
"What are you doing here," he said stiffly.
"I…" her words died at her tongue. "I… I'm sorry."
No response. Jane wringed her hands. "I made a mistake," she said, looking down.
Harvey let out a tired sigh. "It's only been a week. Isn't it early for this?"
Jane winced, the words cutting her to pieces. "Harvey… please, listen to me. I can't raise our children by myself. I never could. You're their father, and they miss you, I know they do. And I do too!" she was rambling now, growing more frantic at his lack of reaction. "I was just angry, it was stupid, a stupid mistake. I should've- I should've talked to you, but I was so… and now when I'm in that house, I keep on expecting you to walk in those doors, to fret over me, to be flustered when I kissed you, and to make me feel loved…"
Harvey took a shuddering breath, still staring at the ground.
"I miss you every day. I want us to be a family again," Jane looked at him breathless, feeling a glimmer of hope.
When he looked up, tears ran down his face. He blinked them away. "You're lying."
Jane's eyes widened. "What?" she managed.
"Do you think I'm stupid? I've seen 'our' children with every person except you for the past week! Yesterday it was Evelyn. The day before it was Penny! And you-" He choked out a sob. "You expect me to believe that you care about the kids?! You don't. If you did, you would have listened to me. If you were sorry, you would've listened."
Jane opened her mouth, but nothing came out but a shallow gasp.
He looked over her in disgust, a steely glint in his eyes. "I want the kids for Fridays and the weekends. And here –" he pulled out a medical file. "Find a new doctor." He slid it across the counter, and stalked his way back to the examination room.
"Harvey!" She pushed the doors open, rushing it. "I love you!" she pleaded. Tears ran down her face. "I swear I love you! I can change! Please…" she grabbed his arm, but he wrenched it away.
"I…" Harvey choked back a sob. "I can't look at you. Please spare me any more pain."
Jane couldn't pull her eyes from him, feeling a sense of weightlessness fill her. "I…" She came crashing down, a deep festering shame filling her. She turned away without another word, but took care in placing the cup of coffee on the counter
Jane picked up the children on a blustery summer Sunday from the clinic. This had been occurring for the last few weeks now, her handing off the kids to Harvey. When seeing them he would light up, picking them up making plane noises, laughing with their giggles.
She wouldn't stay for long, feeling as though she was an intruder upon something intimate, private. Seeing his smile, the semblance of his personality made her heart ache for some reason. It also drew her to the saloon, where a drink and an opportunity to revel in self-pity would be waiting.
It was amazing how quickly everything had moved on. Before she had been the talk of the town, murmurs following her every step. Some of their looks were disdainful, most were pitiful. It must've been hard to pick a side for them, she though ruefully. She, of course, had buried herself with work because she wasn't sure what to do with herself but do what she had always done. She constantly wondered what he was doing – mulled it over, again and again.. Is he eating well? Is he sleeping? Does he miss me?
The littlest one had nodded off, probably only to awaken at a dark corner of the night. The other one took its time across the grassy ground, feet placed with deliberation.
When they arrived home she put them in their cribs, watching to make sure they had fallen asleep. Jane was grateful for the moment of respite. She laid on her side of the bed, too exhausted from work but mind buzzing incessantly. She was careful not to dare turn over onto his side – she had once woken up there, her nose filled with his lingering scent, filling her with shame in its comfort.
Jane turned over, analyzing the situation again. She couldn't find any faults in their romance. Perhaps they were both too career-driven, but it hadn't been a problem until they started having children. The first one had been fine. Maybe it was even a happy time for the both of them, their beautiful spring baby. He could do no wrong - he laughed, he cried, he slept, he pooped, and they were delighted. Of course, they were permanently exhausted, but it wasn't anything they couldn't handle.
But then the second one came, in those dark winter months, she realized something was wrong. She held her tiny body, a numbness spread across her body, settling as a churning in her stomach. It cried out, and the pressure travelled to her chest and all she could do was grip the bars of the crib, not to fall. She tremored slightly – the baby's cries were ringing in her ears, but she couldn't move.
Why can't I do this? I should be able to!
The baby was kicking in her harness, babbling happily. The other was being held in Jane's arms, despite being fully able to walk, she supposed tiny legs were not designed for uneven terrain.
The wizard was not home, yet had neglected to lock his door. Typical that an arcane being would forget the mundane Jane reasoned. She had an ordeal climbing down the ladder to the basement while holding the squirming tot, but she managed it eventually.
She stepped onto a red seal, feeling a brief sense of flight, then stepped out.
The witch's hut was musty and dank, the wooden floors screeching with each step. It looked like it was never stayed in for more than a few hours at most. She had never cleaned up the place in that time either, a clear layer of dust lining everything it could reach. Perhaps the most curious things in the hut were the statues lining the far side, grimy with old age, yet with dangerous bright jeweled eyes, as if polished regularly. Jane set the toddler down, to which he plopped down, looking around curiously.
She approached the middle statue, green jewels glinting in the low light. "I want to make an offering." She read over faded carving, eyes straying to the words again and again.
Dark Shrine of Memory: Will erase a divorced spouses memory, making it seem like you had never been married.
She sat down a bag, precisely filled with 30000G at a statue whose eyes stared into her, an unspoken judgment between them. The bag glowed briefly, then disappeared.
Jane finally exhaled – she hadn't realized she was holding her breath. "Now it's almost over," she cooed to her littlest one. "Only one thing left to do." She turned to the statue on her left, with glowing yellow eyes that surveyed her in judgement.
"I am here to make an offering," she announced, her voice reverberating back at her. She took the infant out of her carrier, and laid her on the musty floor, next to her brother. She was fussing, face contorting and relaxing like it was preparing for a wail.
"This is for the better, you know," she said, soothingly. "I could never be a good mother for you. After all this time, even looking at you fills me with dread. But not anymore. When I look at you here, I feel…relieved. As light as a feather." She tickled the toddler under the chin, watching it giggle but not smiling in the slightest. "It's not your fault that you had such a cruel mother. What I am about to do is unforgivable… but one day you'll understand that this is for the better. You don't deserve to have such a cruel woman raising you…"
She ran her fingers through the engraved words - Dark Shrine of Selfishness
The youngest had started crying, to which she didn't even flinch. "I'm sorry. You didn't ruin my life. It was me. Now you're giving me a second chance. And this time around, I promise I won't make the same mistake. I promise you."
Jane took a prismatic shard out of her backpack, rainbow sheen flickering warningly in the low light. She placed it at the alter, to which the crying cut off, hanging in the air for a moment before dissipating. She stood there, frozen, until she heard the ruffle of wings.
Jane walked away from that hut feeling a thousand times lighter.
She went home, and laid in her bed until she passed out. When she woke, she stumbled out of bed, feeling giddy. She didn't bother checking the time, but hobbled towards the door. She paused by the stairs, listening. Nothing.
She went outside, not bothering with her boots. Her cranberry plants swayed in the autumn breeze, glistening with red berries. She stepped onto the dirt path, savouring every step until she was running, a rush filling her.
It's over.
She froze. A chill washed over her, ceasing her breath. A festering thought, a pressure in her head, waiting for her ears to pop. The world was held underwater, the sunlight bending, the ground washing away until she fell through, the sound reverberating in her skull, over and over.
She heard a baby – her baby - crying.
Jane ran, not looking where she was going. She tripped over a rock, but scrambled to her feet. The dull impact throbbed with her every step, along with a strange ringing in her ears.
She burst into the Wizard's tower, the wooden door echoing. "I've-" she gasped. Her legs had couldn't stand, everything burned. "I've-"
The wizard looked over methodically, and suddenly widened. "What did you do?"
Jane choked out a whimper. "I need to go back. Please let me go back."
He grabbed her by the shoulder, his gaze harsh. "What did you do?" Did he see the taint of magic on her, of a guilty conscience?
Her words were sticking in her throat. "Dark shrines…"
The wizard let her go, and Jane slumped over the stone floor like a ragdoll. "Dark magic. I knew it," he muttered himself, turning around. "I can't help you."
She lifted her head up, feeling the gravity around her intensifying. Her eyes widened, the tears staining her cheeks. "Nothing?"
"Unless you have an untainted soul lying around," he replied, icily. "And I'm afraid, yours is not."
"JANE!"
She had heard Harvey call her name a dozen times now, but each time made her feel like her stomach would split in two.
"Jane!"
She couldn't. She could never. She had robbed his mind. She had robbed him of everything he loved.
She could feel the thuds of his feet on the ground, reverberating in her skull. He was now sprinting. Jane knew that she should move, should get away. But she couldn't move.
"Jane…" Harvey slowed to a stop, panting out her name in hushed desperation. He approached her like a wild animal, not to her affright her into flight once more. Hesitant warm arms propped her upright on the grass. Jane wanted to resist it, but instead she relished his touch.
She forced herself to stare into his eyes. They were creased with concern, with blithe ignorance and innocence.
Jane wept.