A Fantasy Story Of A Hero On An Epic Quest To Recover A Memory That They Have Lost - The Wizard Who Wiped

A fantasy story of a hero on an epic quest to recover a memory that they have lost - the wizard who wiped it out told them that returning the memory is not within their power. The protagonist specifically asked to have the memory removed, and if they want it back, they must quest to the house of another wizard on the opposite side of the realm, who is capable of such things.

Once the protagonist finally completes this quest, and regains the memory, they see that it was a huge mistake. This memory is horrifying, awful, it brings no fulfillment nor solace and offers no answer or explanation that they wouldn't have already had. It is not worth having, not worth remembering. They ask the wizard to take it back, undo the spell they just did. The wizard that returned the memory says that they cannot do that any more than they could unpour water. To have it wiped off, the protagonist must journey back to the first wizard.

It is heavily implied that this isn't the first time this has happened. As a matter of fact it's been happening for quite a while now. The two wizards keep sending this poor motherfucker back and forth across the realm just to annoy each other.

my new and first (almost) finished tatting project! this will be a bracelet. i will be dyeing it green and after that i will add a metal clasp. i used a little modified Flower Bracelet/Bookmark pattern from this website

I can't look at pictures of the ocean or foggy cliff sides or old fishing vessels for very long because some ancient instinctual longing rises from deep inside of me and I tend to go crouss eyed awnd fouam at the mought a bit

i really like to imagine jerry babysitting for gingi sometimes

[id: drawing of ticket jerry reading a book to gingi's children. he is holding three in his arms and two on his shoulders, with the raccoon baby playing with the chord of his phone head. he's reading the monster at the end of this book. end id]

[id: doodle of phonegingi looking concerned and saying "why are you turning the page? do you want him to fucking die?" end id]

Let's play... Bella or Watson?

While waiting for the next Letters from Watson email to arrive, fancy joining me in a little game of BELLA OR WATSON?

Some of these statements were written by Dr John H Watson about his friend Mr Sherlock Holmes. Some were written by Bella Swan about Edward, the hot teenage vampire from Twilight.

[IMG Silhouettes of Dr Watson and Bella Swan, text reads Watson or Bella]

(This was inspired by a tumblr post, but I'm afraid it's lost to the mists of ancient dash for me by now. Answers are under the cut!]

With his long, white, nervous fingers he adjusted [REDACTED], and [REDACTED].

glanced sideways at the beautiful [REDACTED], who was [REDACTED], [REDACTED] with long, pale fingers

His eyes were gloriously intense as he uttered that last sentence

I turned and he was leaning toward me, his pale, glorious face just inches from mine.

In the darkness he looked much more normal. Still pale, still dreamlike in his beauty, but no longer the fantastic sparkling creature of our sunlit afternoon.

In height he was rather over six feet, and so excessively lean that he seemed to be considerably taller. His eyes were sharp and piercing Watson or Bella?

His face flushed and darkened. His brows were drawn into two hard black lines, while his eyes shone out from beneath them with a steely glitter. 

An instant later he pulled me back into the blackest corner of the room, and I felt his warning hand upon my lips. The fingers which clutched me were shivering.

It was worth a wound—it was worth many wounds—to know the depth of loyalty and love which lay behind that cold mask. The clear, hard eyes were dimmed for a moment, and the firm lips were shaking. 

ANSWERS UNDER THE CUT

Question 1 - Watson

With his long, white, nervous fingers he adjusted the delicate needle, and rolled back his left shirt-cuff.

Question 2 - Bella

I glanced sideways at the beautiful boy, who was looking at his tray now, picking a bagel to pieces with long, pale fingers

Question 3 - Watson His nostrils seemed to dilate with a purely animal lust for the chase

Question 4 - Bella His eyes were gloriously intense as he uttered that last sentence

Question 5 - Bella

I turned and he was leaning toward me, his pale, glorious face just inches from mine.

Question 6 - Bella

In the darkness he looked much more normal. Still pale, still dreamlike in his beauty, but no longer the fantastic sparkling creature of our sunlit afternoon

Question 7 - Watson

In height he was rather over six feet, and so excessively lean that he seemed to be considerably taller. His eyes were sharp and piercing

Question 8 - Watson

His face flushed and darkened. His brows were drawn into two hard black lines, while his eyes shone out from beneath them with a steely glitter. 

Question 9 - Watson

An instant later he pulled me back into the blackest corner of the room, and I felt his warning hand upon my lips. The fingers which clutched me were shivering.

Question 10 - Yup, still Watson

It was worth a wound—it was worth many wounds—to know the depth of loyalty and love which lay behind that cold mask. The clear, hard eyes were dimmed for a moment, and the firm lips were shaking. 

Less magic schools. More magic universities. Unlearn the simplified models of your secondary education. Discover how to reference scrolls written by a wizard possessed by a different wizard. Identify bias in the voices that whisper from beyond the veil. Have your institution be accused of promoting a Merlinist agenda. Become addicted to energy potions.