The Better Future Past

Osiris was baking bread with his mother. The sound of her gentle yet commanding voice filled the air. After all, her boy had just turned fifteen, and she was hoping to convince him to take after her.

Osiris looked at his mother adoringly; she had always wanted to start a bakery. It was depressing that she never managed to.

Wait, she was right there, in front of him, telling him to put the dough in the oven. Yes, after all, she had worked very hard to scrounge up enough shells to start the quaint bakery. His father wasn't in the picture, however.

He died at war before he was even born. Despite his father's death, Osiris failed to find sorrow in this event. He had passed before he could make any memories of the man. No days out to the few parks the kingdom had built and no joyous moments with his mother and father either.

Osiris pushed the sudden bleak thoughts away, surprised by their presence.

The boy still had time to kill until the bread would finish baking. He turned to talk to his mother, excited at the prospect of talking to her after so many years.

He had spoken to her a moment ago, hadn't he?

Osiris tried to dig further into this thought. Why did he feel as though he hadn't spoken to his precious mother in ages? Just as he was about to bring it up, he felt a sudden rush of happiness. He didn't want to ponder his circumstances.

He was happy being able to spend time with Mother, that was that.

The boy was clearly confused. Everything was perfectly ordinary as he spoke to his mother.

"Mum, where are you going?" His voice filled with cheer. He almost laughed for no reason.

"I'm just going out to get vegetables for dinner!" She said in a horribly boisterous voice. However, the young boy noticed something. Despite the happy and cheery voice his mother projected, it was slightly off-key than what remembered her sounding like.

It sounded like a poor mimick of his mother's voice.

Despite this worry, he was filled with a burst of calm and happiness at the sound of her voice. Like someone had just dropped a velvet blanket upon him and wished for him to forget everything else.

"Can I come too?" The little Osiris said, running towards his mother. Completely forgetting the bread that would surely burn.

She was wearing a beautiful dress, one that was brilliant emerald green. Turning to face him, Osiris was subjected to his mother's face. Two shining, icy blue eyes met his own. Her face appeared youthful, not appearing above twenty-five years old.

Her skin was fair. Her waist-long hair was the colour of sand along the coast; dirty blonde.

"Of course!"

Stepping out into the streets, he immediately noticed the roads were better paved than in the slums. Not that he had spent much time there. It seemed he was in the inner area of the city.

Where else would he be?

Continuing along the road, he heard his mother hum an old lullaby he was sung when he was just a baby. It was peaceful and spoke of life near the ocean.

It entranced him entirely. He carried on, passing others whose dresses were just as beautiful as his mother's. Their laughs ricocheted across the streets, illuminating them with unseeable light.

The sounds of the hustle and bustle of the slums were completely absent, replaced with the noise of joy.

They soon approached an area that consisted of well-maintained stalls that carried a variety of goods.

Apples, oranges, exotic spices, rugs, magic conduits, an assortment of vegetables as well as a myriad of other items. They continued forward, surprisingly not towards the vegetables as Mother had told him, but instead towards a stand that sold jewelry.

Despite this discrepancy, Osiris was too wowed by the glimmer of gems and other precious metals. As his mother talked with the stall owner, he noticed something oddly familiar. An abyssal obsidian wrist band.

For some reason, this object stirred something deep within, like a promise.

Osiris did not remember what it was but he was certain it was important. Pointing it out to his mother, she showed no remembrance of its significance. However, she was more than happy to purchase the wristband for a mere three silver shells.

Whatever it took to keep her son by her side forever.

She also bought a ruby necklace and a gold ring for herself. The cost nearly reached forty-two silver shells.

The boy was a little shocked. How had she gotten so much money? Their bakery, while successful, surely couldn't provide that absurd about of shells.

Seeming to read his mind, his mother filled in his memory. "One of the dukes gave some shells as a present." She blushed a little.

Osiris became more confused. While indeed his father died some time ago, he strictly remembered the stories his mother told him. Even in his father's death, he felt she would remain loyal. It seemed this wasn't the case after all as he was led away from the opulent stall.

Soon they were headed back to the bakery, the vegetables forgotten.

Walking back, Osiris felt a strange feeling in his eye. Like someone was looking through it. It was odd, unfamiliar, new. He was starting to panic, not remembering his encounter with the druid at all.

Then as though the world had sensed his unease, a knight came from the side of the street. Perhaps they wanted him to feel as secure as possible.

This was a major mistake on the knight's part.

The obsidian wristband, the odd mimick of his mother's voice, the discrepancies throughout the day, his eye acting up, and then the knight who came to his aid, which had stoked a flame from within.

All the memories came rushing back. The reason for his hatred, his mother's death. His life of bounty hunting and then eventually being sent on one final bounty, where he had been gifted the eye of a druid. The bounty where he had been surrounded by goblins then captivated by a malevolent fog.

Everything in this city was a lie.

He turned to his "Mother," "You're not real." The bounty hunter said.

"No, I am! Please, just stay. You can spend the rest of your life with me!" The imposter pleaded.

The Knight Slayer looked upon his mother. Despite knowing she was fake, an illusion, he couldn't bring himself to kill her. He couldn't bring himself to become one of the knights.

The imposter, perhaps sensing his hesitation, acted on it. "Yes, yes, you can stay here, safe, forever."

Osiris looked at her, shocked that he had considered it. Even if couldn't bring himself to kill her, he knew he couldn't stay.

In one springing motion, he lunged at the knight, wrestling his sword from his scabbard. The imposter, perhaps sensing his intention lunged forward.

It was too late, the knight's blade already piercing his heart.

He couldn't kill his mother so he had settled for the next best thing, himself. After all, the vision was built on him. Without him, there would be no dream. At least he hoped as his vision faded to black.