The Covenant Of Timeless Mysteries

(This chapter is undergoing revisions for tone adjustment and pacing)

Two years prior.

"His father passed two days after Hoku disappeared," Jiang Hao began. He spoke with a calm, yet weighted tone. "Perhaps his father had sensed his end was near. After nineteen years of silence, he called me."

"And what did he say?"

"He asked me to find his son," Jiang Hao paused and took a deep breath. "My brother said Hoku could be difficult but that he wasn't a bad kid at heart."

"A curious way to describe a boy who skips school and runs away at every opportunity," the physician remarked. His own voice teetered between skepticism and dry amusement.

Jiang Hao's gaze diverted, though his posture remained measured. "It might stem from his early years. He's been passed between foster homes since birth."

"And his mother?"

"He never knew her."

The physician gave a succinct nod and adjusted his glasses onto the bridge of his nose. 

He proceeded to scribble something on a slip of paper before glancing back.

"You've likely been informed of the injury he sustained in the accident."

Jiang Hao nodded, "I have."

"It's… unusual," the physician added. There was a puzzled hook in his comment. 

"There's no evidence of direct trauma to the brain—only superficial cuts along the hairline and one near the right eyebrow. The scars, however, appear older. They weren't caused by the fall."

Jiang Hao inclined his head, offering no response beyond the silent weight of acknowledgment.

The physician leaned back, removing his glasses. For a moment, his eyes drifted toward the corner of the room, as though he was considering something outside the present conversation.

"If you're able," he said at last, "introduce some structure into his life. A routine. A focus. Art, perhaps. Reading. Boys like him sometimes find solace in stories, in imagining lives beyond their own. You could buy him a few books from the shop—his birthday is soon, isn't it?"

. . .

A week later, Jiang Hao brought Hoku to his home.

A week later, Hoku turned sixteen.

"I took the liberty of packing a few things from your father's house," Jiang Hao said, placing a carefully taped box in front of his nephew. 

Hoku realized earlier that his tone and movements were matched with a steady demeanor as though he was trying to gauge a reaction from him.:

Jiang Hao chuckled softly and continued to speak lightheartedly, "The place looked ransacked. You didn't have a single piece of clothing left. Only this… broken locket."

He extended a thin silver chain toward Hoku. At the end of it dangled an oval-shaped locket, its surface worn and tarnished.

Hoku carefully cupped it in both hands, the cold metal pressing into his palms. The chain spilled over his fingers, glinting in the muted light.

"Is it broken?"

"The hinges are bent out of shape, and there's a crack on the glass inside," Jiang Hao said. "It looked like it meant something, so I brought it for you. I think it may have belonged to your mother, though I am not entirely sure."

Hoku gazed at the locket, then quietly brushed a thumb over the rusted surface.

"Twenty-three," he suddenly murmured.

Jiang Hao tilted his head. "Pardon?"

"There's a number engraved inside—twenty-three. In Roman numerals."

The revelation seemed to waver in the room for a moment, without an answer. 

Hoku turned the locket over and inspected it with a focus that bordered on reverence.

"Did the hospital tell you anything about my mother?"

"The doctor mentioned her name," Jiang Hao replied, his tone softening. "Hokori. Your mother was a foreigner from Japan."

"Japan?"

Jiang Hao nodded, stepping closer into the doorway of the library. 

Hoku followed his uncle's gaze, and his eyes widened a little as they took in the expanse of books lining the walls. 

He'd never seen so many books in one place.

Without taking his eyes away from the shelves he asked curiously, "How old am I?"

"Sixteen, as of today." Jiang Hao folded his hands behind his back. "I don't know how your father celebrated your birthday. I imagine this must feel strange, so I wasn't going to mention it unless you asked."

Hoku's silence seemed to stretch, gradually building the tension both had discreetly hoped to avoid.

"Do you like reading?" Jiang Hao finally asked, amiably.

Hoku returned his focus, remaining unsure how to answer. 

The truth was, he didn't know what he liked. 

Everything he knew about himself came secondhand—from what others seemed to guess, and from fragments of his memory that refused to form a coherent whole.

"Yes," he said, after wavering.

Jiang Hao smiled, though there was a hint of formality in his expression that didn't go unnoticed. 

Hoku wondered if it would be better to fabricate something or even perhaps create a more distinct version of himself to present out of gratitude.

"Then consider this room in your possession," Jiang Hao said, as he gestured at the towering shelves. 

"Sleep in it, read in it, do whatever you like. Just don't touch the books on the top shelf. They're fragile—some older than I care to admit, and a few cost me more than I'd like to remember."

"That isn't necessary," Hoku said quickly. "I appreciate your offer, but… they all look expensive. I'd hate to ruin anything."

The edges of Jiang Hao's composed demeanor appeared to ease further.

"Then don't," he said simply. 

"Think of this as my gift to you, for your birthday. My last partner used to call this room 'the eternal library.'" An indistinct chuckle escaped him. 

"You can call it whatever you'd like. Just think of it as a space for security. That's all it is. I rarely visit this room so you needn't worry about being intruded on."

Hoku's eyes wandered the walls, taking in the unbroken expanse of bookshelves. 

Not a single gap could be discovered in the arrangement; every hardcover sat neatly in its place.

A room laden with ample stories, it's no wonder anyone would call this place an eternal library.

Chapter 5

"The fire that burnt down this manor was a mistake. The manor should have been preserved after the townsfolk realized Francis Barret was a swindler. During the initial timeline, his study was plundered by authorities, and all of his files were burnt after his sentencing."

"Is the fire what instigated my universe into some sort of time anarchy?"

"Time anarchy? I haven't heard that one before. You're quite creative, aren't you?"

"Yes, and you're quite slow-witted."

Polaris frowned at Hoku's impudence, refusing to say anything in return.

Hoku sauntered near the fire warming the parlor with a crate he had filled with catalogs from the study.

If burning a few dozen stacks of paper would get him out of this manor, then he would do so without faltering intentionally.

"Just these will do?" Hoku thrust his abdomen into the crate to lift it higher, so that Polaris could see the yield of materials he was hoisting.

Polaris squinted his eyes, passingly planting a finger under his jaw.

"About as much, yes," he said.

"Good! Then do you mind grabbing the rest from the study?"

"Technically, this is part of your responsibility," he exclaimed, veering in the direction of the spandrel stairs.

Hoku dropped the crate in front of the hearth. A few orange glowing embers reacted to the gust of the crate's force, floating up and outward in a dazzling frolic.

The fire had weakened significantly inside the hearth.

By good luck, however, there was a chalky wooden bellow resting atop the mantle of the hearth.

Hoku reached for it and aimed the nozzle at the base of what was left of the kindling embers.

The bellow expanded as he lifted the handle to open the valve and draw in air.

As he contracted both wooden handles, air expelled into the ash and lumber.

Pieces of ember glowed brighter around the log inside the hearth. After a few reverberating cracks, the flames roared back to life.

"You figured out how to use the bellow, I see."

Polaris's chuffed tone startled Hoku.

How could he be so covert? He was like a ninja.

He heaved a weary sigh, plunking a tower of paper next to Hoku.

Hoku felt a sudden loss of pride as he grasped the single crate he struggled to lug into the parlor.

Polaris used his leg to shift the pile closer to Hoku. He vigorously slapped his hand on top of the stack, coaxing the base to slightly tremble.

"They don't need to burn until ash. Just ensure that the flames don't go out as you're tossing everything. Wait until a single stack burns before tossing in another."

Polaris slowly approached the main staircase as Hoku threw in a slew of notes that were relatively thick in width.

He watched as a few sparks spiraled around the mass.

The small flames began to trickle around the edges, masking the paper in a dark inkish color before crumbling apart.

The ash lay thickly like a first winter's snow, though instead of luminous white, it was a tainted pale gray.

Hoku used a metal rod hanging from a rusty hook above the hearth to push the other files into the sea of flames.

Crackle! Pop! Crackle! Pop! Pop!

Hoku looked behind him to see if Polaris was still quietly observing him.

"He must've gone upstairs… I wonder what's up there," he muttered under the turmoil of burning material.

Suppose he were to guess, presumably just a bunch of needlessly decorated bedrooms.

Polaris had spoken of the master bedroom when he left to search for the pocket watch.

Five hours had passed as Hoku tossed the last pile into the hearth.

The ashes had begun spilling onto the stone mantel, and his arms ached from using the bellow every time the fire grew lethargically slow.

The blonde man still hadn't returned or acknowledged that he was even still inside.

Hoku nervously pondered calling out for him.

The files had all been burned, but nothing had happened.

Suspicion draped over him like a cold current.

Should he just go upstairs and find him? If he left right now, would something happen?

His eyes paced the room in a disquiet habit.

The latter consideration was cleansed from his mind upon a personal realization… He didn't like being alone.

He cautiously moved about the room, nearing the large curved staircase. His boot subtly slipped in front of him, and he realized he'd mistakenly stepped on something.

As he glanced down, he noticed a piece of paper in front of the door beneath the staircase.

One of them must have dropped it. Most likely it was Polaris, since he had carried them up the stairs with merely his hands.

Hoku crouched down to pick it up, curiously flipping it over after straightening his posture again.

Messy calligraphy was written on the entire page. Hoku squinted his eyes at the text. He could barely make out the sentences; the paper mirrored someone who was gradually falling into madness.

He raised his idle hand, crumpling the paper into a compacted ball.

Taking a few steps back toward the hearth, he underhand threw it into the flames.

The paper ball rolled off the center of the unburned paper, collapsing into a pile of bright embers.

Hoku stared over a chair he was standing between, waiting to see if he had to push it further inside.

A flame, both the shape and size of a seed, sprouted from the embers.

Thud! Thud! Thud!

A dull but loud reverberation came from the third floor, and a familiar black creature came racing down the staircase.

"Cheshire?" The cat sprinted in Hoku's direction, slowing down once it swept behind his legs.

"Damn it, cat! Now you come out!? Little shit! You wanna leave so desperately?"

Polaris hollered, his voice intensifying with the hasty strikes of his heels against the ground.

He appeared at the top of the staircase, wearing foreign attire, with the wooden box from before tucked beneath his right arm.

He wore a simple flaxen shirt with sleeves and close-fitting trousers. He was dressed much less excessively than before.

"You changed??"

That was what Hoku wanted to ask, but there were more pressing matters to consider.

"Happy belated birthday—take this!"

Polaris drifted around the spiral at the end of the railing, abruptly shoving an open case into Hoku's grasp.

"How do you—" 

"Grab your creature and let's go before the final bell strikes." Polaris's tone was urgent as he tapped his finger on the solid side of the case.

Hoku glanced from the box to the cat, then back to the box.

A small golden device was placed atop a white cloth with an asterisk embroidered into each of the corners.

The circumference was small enough for it to be either a compass or a pocket watch.

Unfortunately, admiring the device lacked ample time.

Polaris lightly bumped Hoku's shoulders, pushing him toward the room from the illustration.

"Why are we going in here? There's nowhere to leave from that room," Hoku asked, puzzled. He recalled that there hadn't even been a window in it.

"That so?" Polaris questioned.

Hoku continued in the direction of the room, attempting to avoid being pushed forward again.

"What is this?" he added, as he gestured forth from the foyer with one arm.

Hoku's jaw nearly dropped at the sight of light pouring through the glass frames of a white door.

"How many damn doors are going to appear in this place?" Hoku muttered, incredulous.

Polaris chuckled. Though Hoku's question was rhetorical, he answered anyway.

"Hopefully, this is the last one for a while."

Dong! Dong! Dong!

Hoku's pupils dilated as the sound of what resembled church bells pealed through his ears.

He remembered reading that when church bells rang three times, it was to summon the faithful to recite the Lord's Prayer. 

Great. Nothing unusual, he supposed… for them.

He felt another pressure on his body, but this time it was much lower.

Swiftly glancing down, he caught sight of the little black cat, Cheshire.

"This is similar to what happened before I woke up here," Hoku said in a deep voice.

"Is it?" Polaris's expression shifted to one of sympathy, but Hoku could distinguish the undertones of suspicion in it.

"Care to partake in a second trial?"

"You have no limits on sarcasm, do you?"

"Hasn't that been obvious? I'm a very unserious individual! Though truthfully, I think it may be my way of coping. I haven't always been so witless."

Hoku glanced at him from the side before redirecting his focus toward the white passage.

Dong! Dong! Dong!

"Beyond here is the 'garden,'" Polaris replaced the subject, reaching for the handle of the door as Hoku stepped aside.

A splendid light engulfed a luxuriant portion of the space as Polaris twisted the handle and opened the door.

Cheshire curled his tail around Hoku's ankle as he exited past him into the light.

Hoku hesitated, and for some reason, he looked toward Polaris.

He smiled—possibly for the thousandth time since they'd met.

Dong! Dong! Dong!

Polaris stepped back from the doorway, and Hoku curved around the door, placing both feet onto a path constructed from some type of sandy terrain.

"White… tulips?" Hoku glanced at the field on the far side of the bare path.

White tulips overlaid a plain of grass that appeared as though it would impose past even the height of his boots.

"I hope we meet less soon than last time," Hoku muttered, turning around just as Polaris closed the door. A fierce billow of air blew from the north, inevitably causing Hoku's eyelids to squeeze shut.

When the field went still, and the roaring atmosphere was interrupted by calmness, Hoku opened his eyes.

The lavishly extravagant manor had vanished entirely.

Only a boy with a broken compass stood alongside his guide in a garden of white tulips.

The Memoir Chapter 3

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