PlayerOliver

When you were a kid, you lived with your grandmother in the small town of Silvertree, on the edge of a magical forest. Grandma is a witch, and she taught you how to use your magic to affect the natural world, too. “Magic is a part of you,” she always told you. “Learning how to use it means figuring out who you are.”

Now you’re 19 and on your own. After years of living in the forest while you perfected your witchcraft, you’ve returned to take care of your grandmother’s house and crow-familiar while she’s gone. Figuring out who you are feels more important than ever - not to mention, figuring out what Silvertree is. A lot is just as you remembered: the friendly generous next-door neighbors with a kid just your age, the proud town council, the quaint little shops with quirky punny names, the gentle shadowy forest full of magic.

Stone in the shoe

Marlowe laughs softly, and nods as they gaze into the pond.


"Oh, yeah; they were all called Freddy. I mean, I don't know if Eliot had names for them, but that's what I called them all because I couldn't tell them apart. I think I named them after this toy I had; it wasn't even a fish, it was a dog, but I think I wanted them to be siblings or something. I don't know why I thought they'd have the same name as each other if they were siblings. I still find it hard to come up with names now when I'm writing, so—maybe it was all I could think of."


You can't quite see Marlowe's expression just then, their head still lowered to look at the water. But from the sound of their voice, which seems to stick slightly in their throat, you get the feeling that they're having some difficulty saying those words.


"Thanks for coming out to see me," they tell you after a couple moments' silence. "I just…there were so many people in there, and I kept thinking they were going to come and tell me how sorry they were for my loss. And I had to get out because all I could think was: what about my parents? Eliot gets this whole house full of people, but what about them? Why does nobody seem to remember them?"


You open your mouth, taken aback—but you're not sure whether to say anything as you watch Marlowe run their hands through their hair. You haven't heard Marlowe speak very much about Eliot—in fact, after he died, Marlowe didn't seem to want to say very much at all. Now, you're quite surprised at the sting in their voice when they say Eliot's name. But at the same time, you know it wouldn't be your place to guess at the full reason for Marlowe's anger towards him.


After a moment, Marlowe blinks—and then they seem to remember something as they meet your eye again.


"I didn't—I don't think I told you, did I? About what happened to my parents?"


Slowly, you shake your head. Marlowe breathes out slowly, and drops their gaze down to the dark pond.


"To be honest—I don't think I feel like I can talk about it all right now," they say quietly. "It's hard enough to talk about anytime. The short version is that they died in an accident, and even though it was a total accident, it might have been partly caused by some choices Eliot made. But after they died, a lot of people assumed it was my parents' fault—and Eliot kind of went along with that. There's a lot more to it, but I just don't want to get into it right now. I just need to clear my head. And—I need to remind myself it's not other people's fault if they don't know everything I know, because they weren't there. And, I mean…it's not really them I'm upset with."


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