15th Period: My Return to Brightwood

A lot has changed since I moved away from the Brightwood District to the Corandale District eight years ago. After leaving Athena behind, the love of my life, I felt empty inside at first, as the world around me was now filled with dread and sorrow. As time went on, my world began to change, soon filled with smiles and laughter, a stark contrast to the somber atmosphere that had enveloped my life after my father's death. 

My mother's newfound happiness radiated through our humble home, filling it with a warmth that had been absent for many years. As for me, I watched as my mother rediscovered love, which slowly helped her heal from the loss of my beloved father. This newfound love in my mother's life also helped us cope, and now we had a loving father who was part of our daily lives. 

Despite the positive changes, I couldn't shake off the shadow of the past. Lenora Institute of Technology still haunted my dreams. It was there that my father had worked and subsequently met his untimely demise under mysterious circumstances. Despite the passage of time, the circumstances surrounding my father's death remained shrouded in mystery. Battling with my inner demons, I became determined to unravel the truth, to understand what really happened at Lenora Institute of Technology, and to finally find closure for the loss of my father. 

One day, we heard from the heads of the Eliwood House, who made their presence known to us. One of them came to express his concerns for our safety after what had happened eight years ago. 

"Henry of the Eliwood House," he started, his voice carrying weight beyond his years, "It's been a long time. I trust you remember me?"

I nodded somewhat hesitantly. "I do, Elder Nathaniel. Your presence brings back memories, not all pleasant."

His gaze softened, understanding evident in his eyes. "I can imagine, Henry. The calamity at Lenora Institute... it was a loss not just for you, but for all of us. Your father was a great scientist; his contributions were incomparable." 

His words were a mere echo of what I had heard countless times before, but coming from him, they held more weight. I found myself lost in my thoughts as Elder Nathaniel continued speaking. "Henry, we must ensure that what happened at Lenora Institute never happens again. It's time we unravel the mysteries surrounding your father's death." 

After a silent pause, I looked up at Elder Nathaniel, determination in my eyes. "Elder, I appreciate your words. But words alone won't bring justice to my father and the countless others who lost their lives in that incident. We need to take action."

Elder Nathaniel nodded, a grim expression on his face. "You're right, Henry. That's why I've come here personally to meet with you. We've been researching the incident at Lenora Institute... I was planning to send a couple of members from the Eliwood House to assist you with this mission." 

I felt my heart skip a beat. "Do you mean to suggest that you believe this incident wasn't an accident but instead planned?" I asked. 

"It's too early to say anything for certain," Elder Nathaniel admitted. "We also suspect that Legion, the one no one speaks of, might be connected to this somehow. If that's the case, then this might be much worse than we thought." 

Suddenly, I found myself standing on the verge of a revelation that could rewrite history. The truth behind my father's death, the incident at Lenora Institute, might be part of a larger and darker plot. The path to unveiling the truth seemed more daunting than ever, but I was ready to face whatever lay ahead. 

After he left, I resumed what I had been doing previously. 

"Mother," I started, diverting her attention from the glowing screen of the Devilan Notebook, "Are you sure about this? Moving to the Brightwood District and living there with Brian?"

She looked at me, her eyes full of determination. "Yes, Henry, I am certain about this decision of mine. I understand that the Brightwood District holds many painful memories, including the loss of my former husband. At the same time, this is where we will find our new beginning with Brian…" Her voice trailed off into silence; her gaze lost in the depths of old memories as they came flooding back. 

"Brian means the world to this family, and he loves us dearly. He's a good man, Henry. And the Brightwood District… it holds the promise of new opportunities for us," she said, giving me an encouraging smile, her optimism infectious.

"But, Mother, I never thought you would want to return after everything that happened to us there," I said. 

"I know, Henry. But we need to move forward, too. Life is more than just shadows and mysteries of the past. It's time we started embracing the light of our future," she said, her voice brimming with hope, a stark contrast to the heavy atmosphere that had hung over us since my father's death. 

As we continued to discuss our future plans, I couldn't help but feel a simmering excitement underneath the apprehension. A future filled with new happiness for us. This wouldn't stop me from pursuing the truth as I looked forward to a new future in the Brightwood District, holding onto a promise to uncover the truth no matter how painful it would be. 

"Henry, we are stronger than our past. Our strength did not come from nothing. It came from survival, from resilience. If the Brightwood District is the place that will allow us to tap into our resilience, then the Brightwood District is where we must be," she said.

"I understand, Mother. We are survivors, and survivors adapt. But what about the incident at Lenora Institute? What about Dad? We both believe it wasn't an accident… Don't you think moving back to the Brightwood District, being close to the Science Guild, might bring back those terrible memories?" I responded, a tinge of worry lacing my voice. 

"Yes, Henry," she replied, her gaze steady. "What happened at Lenora Institute was tragic, and it will remain a mystery yet to be unraveled. But remember, not all mysteries are dangerous, and not all exposures are harmful. Sometimes, they are just paths leading us to our destiny. And who knows? Maybe Lenora Institute of Technology has the answers you have been seeking."

After our discussion that day, I decided to return to the Brightwood District a couple of months before my mother had planned to during the Solstice of Solara in order to attend a local university. During that time, I met up with two members from the Eliwood House who Elder Nathaniel sent to assist me. Along the way, I planned to work during the Solstice of Solara to pay for the remaining classes and supplies I needed during the semester. 

Upon my arrival in the Brightwood District, I secured a full-time position at a local retailer, Brightwood Office Supply. My daily routine was reminiscent of a quintessential student-worker lifestyle. I would wake up to the chirping of birds in the early hours of the morning before leaving my dorm room, which I shared with two others from the Eliwood House, and headed to work. 

My duties at the office supply store were both varied and monotonous - restocking shelves with new Micro Storage Units for the Devilan Notebooks, assisting customers in finding the right electronic book cartridges, scanning purchases at the checkout register, and occasionally resolving error messages for guests' electronic devices. Solstice Midcycle breaks were often hurried, with quick meals from the local diner across the street. 

In the afternoons, we were usually quite busy, as local businesses would come in for their supply needs. There was a certain gratification in knowing that I was part of a system that kept the local businesses running smoothly. Despite the monotony of the tasks involved, I began to find comfort in the routine tasks, the familiar faces, and the simple joy of being part of the Brightwood community. During my time here, my heart would often recall the precious memories I once shared with Athena as I tried desperately to forget about her. 

As the days began to shorten and the hint of The Equinox of Harvestara began to color the leaves, the chasm of Erica's absence in my life seemed to deepen. I found myself missing my little sister's infectious laughter that would often echo throughout the house, her impromptu dance routines in the living room, and even her annoying reminders to save my dessert for her. 

There were moments when I'd look up, expecting to see my sister's mischievous grin from across the store aisle, only to be met with the cold reality of her absence. I would sometimes find myself lost in thought, replaying our shared childhood memories and longing for the simplicity of those times. An unexpected wave of nostalgia would often hit me, amplifying the silent void her absence had left in my life. It was in these quiet moments of reflection that I began to truly comprehend the depth of my affection for my little sister, Erica, who had watched out for me all these years as we grew up together. 

I remember one particular day when we had a rare spell during The Solara and Frostara sunshine. Erica, in her boundless energy, had initiated an impromptu snowball fight. The world around us was transformed into a battlefield of gleaming white, our shouts of laughter echoing through the air. Erica was a formidable opponent, her snowballs striking with an accuracy that belied her age. 

Then there were the quieter times. The countless hours we spent huddled together in the living room, immersed in a world of storybooks. Erica, with her vivid imagination, would breathe life into the characters, spinning extended versions of the stories that left me in awe. 

One cannot forget the late-night kitchen escapades. The incidents when we, under the cloak of darkness, would sneak down to raid the refrigerator. Erica would lead the mission, her tiny finger on her lips, signaling for silence. We'd giggle, struggling to contain our laughter as we tiptoed back to our room, with the stolen food making the adventure sweeter.

These snapshots of time, seemingly insignificant back then, now served as cherished memories, reminders of a bond that remained unbroken despite the physical distance that separated us.