The Manor of Lost Time

The Manor of Lost Time

Richard Parks

« Stop lying to me, Sahel! ». I told you I know illusion, and this is not an illusion! I’m not merely seeing this, I’m there! I’m myself and yet I am with them. I know what that girl sewing the dress is thinking, I know what she’s feeling. I’m watching it all, yet the thread is in my hand and I feel the sting from the needle’s point! If you don’t tell me what this means right now, our bargain is ended. And I do know the way out!”

She wasn’t bluffing. I’d thought the lie might make things easier, but this was Driana I was dealing with, and let me confess frankly that I was only just then beginning to understand what that meant. I abandoned the lie.

I don’t know the true name of this place, Driana, if it has one. I call it “The Manor of Lost Time.” Humans and demon-kin alike generate a nearly infinite cache of lost possibility for every path not taken. This is the place where all the “might have beens” reside. That is what you’re experiencing now. The potential was there, but it was thwarted, for better or worse. What you’re seeing and feeling now, and knowing now, did not happen. You’re right – it’s not an illusion, but it’s also not real, and never can be real.

“I lost this the day my parents died,” she said simply.

I nodded, forgetting for the moment that she could not see me. Yes, I said.

The Manor of Lost Time. Photo by Elena

“What will I see next?”

I truly do not know, Driana. Perhaps something horrible, or something painful and sad, but also perhaps something wonderful, joyous. Whatever it may be, it is something you’ve lost forever. That’s what is waiting behind every door. Fortunaltely, only a limited numbeer of doors block your path to me, but I do not know exactly how many, or why the ones that appear are the ones that do appear. I’m trapped in a room of my own lost time, and I cannot see my door, or you. You’ll have to cross your own lost time to reach me, and find the door I cannot see.

I’m not sure what I expected then. I halfway expected her to flee from both myself and Ledanthos binding spell or no. But after a very long silence, I heard her voice again.

« Makan. I was going to marry Makan. I rather suspected that.” Maybe it was my imagination, but I think there was a touch of relief echoed in her words.

He wasn’t your choice?

“He was… Makan. A year older than I was. He was tall and strong and pig-headed, and he cheated at ring-toss. I liked him well enough when I didn’t actually hate him. Yet when I’m sitting with my mother sewing my wedding dress, I love him more than anything. I’ve never been in love or lost a love, but I do know what both feel like, to love and lose in the exact same moment. Thanks to you, Sahel!.

I’m sorry.

« No you’re not, and you may go to blazes. But not until after you honor our bargain. I see the next door. I’ll open it now, » she said, and that’s what she did.

Science Fiction and Fantasy 2015, edited by Rich Horton, Prime Books, 2015.