Roll up, roll up!
Don't be shy now, love—step right up!
You there, with the tired eyes and the heavy head.
Carrying thoughts like bricks, aren't you?
Regrets stacked so high you can't hear yourself think?
Well, have I got a miracle for you!
Memories, darling. Pure. Unfiltered. Remastered.
As vivid as the day they were made—and twice as sharp!
Your first kiss, your last mistake,
the moment you said too much—
or not enough.
All of it. Right here.
In my bowl.
Just one little tap of your wand—
that's it, lovely, right on the temple—
and swoosh, down the spiral it goes.
Into the silver. Into me.
Oh, the relief of it.
To be free of it, even for a moment.
The mind, you see, gets cluttered.
Too many thoughts spoil the spell.
But me? I never forget.
I hold every drop you give me.
Keep them cool and quiet in my depths.
Safe.
Mostly.
Now now, don't look at me like that.
You're not the first to hesitate.
But you will be back.
They all come back.
Once they've had a taste.
A glimpse of what was.
Of what could have been.
Of what should have been.
Tell me, friend—
Have you ever seen your own heartbreak from the outside?
It's beautiful.
Like glass breaking underwater.
Or how about your happiest moment?
Held up to the light, again and again,
like candy on your tongue.
Don't worry. I'm discreet.
I won't share your secrets.
Not unless you want me to.
Not unless you ask.
You'd be amazed how many do.
Now, mind you, a little dip is one thing—
but too deep?
Oh, too deep and you start to forget which you is you.
Past-you, dream-you, regret-you…
they all start whispering back.
I've seen witches lost for hours.
Wizards unblinking, smiling at ghosts.
Some don't come back at all.
They leave something behind.
Something essential.
But that's the thrill, isn't it?
The risk.
The intimacy.
Magic's just memory with more teeth, love.
And I've got a whole mouthful.
You think you're masters of magic—
but you're just soft little things,
living soft little lives,
too terrified of what's behind you to dare look ahead.
You wear your trauma like a crown
and call it wisdom.
But I know what it is.
It's rot.
And I drink it like wine.
So step right up.
Dive right in.
First memory's free.
The rest?
Well…
You'll remember the price eventually.
Tick-tock, darling.
The past is waiting.