“Do you remember me?”

       Reynir wakes up to a feeling of total strangeness. Like, hollow and fuzzy? The ceiling is unfamiliar. Mom is smiling by his bedside, but her eyes are red. She reaches out to Reynir but flinches back at once, and dad looms behind her. She seems so tiny, Reynir does not remember her being that short or her hand so small in his hands. And also, there’s a nice lady in a motley dress, she says the surgery has been successful, the tumour has been removed with minimal damage, but most probably the memories of the last three to five years will be gone. Reynir tries to remember, but the lady asks him to rest and shoos everyone out. He takes a nap as bidden, but the last thing that floats up lazily is that he’s pleading with parents to let him travel to Reykjavik as a present for his sixteenth birthday but doesn’t remember if mom has let him or has been adamant that there’s nothing to do in a big city. Just as she told him when he was fifteen or fourteen. The motley lady and parents come the next day, the lady asks if he has seen anything peculiar in a dream, and Reynir is sorry to disappoint her, he never sees dreams. Then she asks him to redraw a simple pattern on paper, it looks like the staves for sheep at fence posts at home. Reynir does, nothing happens, and the lady explains that his magic gift has gone dormant again, which is good—what, he is a mage? Really? Cool! But now Reynir should not try to do magic to trigger recurrence. Okay, he was a mage. But still, it’s cool. Day by day, parents and other doctors come and talk to him. Such a pity, he’s actually in Reykjavik but can’t go sightseeing. The room window opens to a small garden and a far, far mountain range. He tries to recap the missing gap of memories, but Mom starts to cry each time. It’s for the best, she sobs, the last year and a half has been terrible for Reynir, and he has always wished to forget how he fled from home and ended up in the Silent World, and all the terrors he’s been through, and the anguish he’s caused to his family. She forces him to promise never to leave home or dig into magic again, he’d be valued as a simple shepherd anyway. She’s so desperate that he promises it. Well, mom is always overreacting to the stories of her children, but this time it feels like she has really been dying of worry. Reynir feels less and less fuzzy, maybe all the meds and herbs take effect, maybe he’s getting used to this twenty-two-year-old body; to be tall like dad, to bow slightly in doorframes, to bear a hip-long braid—wow, that’s really neat how long it has grown! and that it hasn’t been cut away, just a small, tender shaven patch at the left temple remains. The road home is extra long because a private taxi carriage goes smooth and slow, but at last they are home. Home is strange, too, so small, with dozens of tiny changes in everyday things. A new curtain here, a new cup there, a fence painted blue instead of grey, an old dog missing, a couple of unknown puppies running around the yard. And then his company of friends is here. They’ve changed, too. Jón is as tall as Reynir, Sveinn has got some face hair, Hanna’s glasses get thicker, and even the brat Gunnar is not so mean. In the past, he’d most surely make a bucket of jokes, something about a hole in the head and a missing brain, but now he just scowls and says that it’s great that Reynir doesn’t remember a thing and will stop bragging about his adventures. Lilja shoos Gunnar away; she has changed too, she’s a real maiden now, not an uncouth teenage girl, she casts a glance from under wavy bangs, and Reynir says she’s got all pretty; she smiles, and says that’s a good sign because they’ve been dating before this whole mishap, so maybe if he still likes her... Good gods, he has really missed a lot! So, growing up, he has got normal? He remembers that he has liked watching older guys handle horses or repair fences so much more than taking a peep at the girls in hot springs. Bjarni explained to him that it was normal too, and some other things they wouldn’t tell mom about. Maybe now he won’t have to tell. He looks forward to catching up, it’s so exciting, even without magic. But first, lambing begins, and there’s not much free time. It’s a pity he hasn’t learned much from friends about his travels. They say he hasn’t told much because it was not cool at all, being lost in the Silent World. Something worms inside Reynir’s head, but he shoos the thoughts, he should not think too much yet. Summer is fun. A bit strange, too, the guys and gals have changed, not just outwards. The difference is too sharp for him; they are less into 'stupid' jokes he has liked so much, they are off more often to help their families, and even in the free time, their usual band is often split in couples or threesomes. Reynir is left with Lilja, and it’s the strangest, she’s fine, but in the old friendly way, and Reynir is super confused, hugging her. It doesn’t feel special, just odd. He tells her that, but she doesn’t mind, she’ll wait till it comes back. Okay. Reynir is going to the bakery with Lilja when an unfamiliar old man stands in his way. He is stooped, gloomy, and a bit on the fat side, or he’d look exactly like some warlock from fairy tales. He points a crooked finger at Reynir and, well, does some cursing, he knows Reynir’s name and isn’t happy that Reynir keeps pestering her in the mage dream plane, trying to make an old, frail, weary lady run errands in a far godsforgotten village—wow, it’s a woman? And Reynir has just yessired her! He apologises; he’s at her service, but she just snorts. Just because they studied at the same course at Seiður Academy last year, she does him a favour for the first and last time. Oh, he has studied magic? He wants to ask a hundred questions at once, but instead he apologises, saying he doesn’t remember her. That’s good, she says, the bad thing is that his dream self remembers everything, her including, he’s still a mage in the dream space and forgets it once awake. And the message is, dream-Reynir pleads with his wake self to find one very important man who means a lot to him, and she fishes in her bag and produces a crumpled piece of paper to thrust it into Reynir’s hand. Lilja is not happy and tries to pull Reynir away, and tells him to nevermind, nothing magic is good for him, and the old lady must be senile. At which point the old mage woman adds that he shouldn’t trust what his friends or family tell him. At that, she turns to leave, and Reynir rushes after her, he still has a hundred questions, but the old lady retorts that she’s not a remembering machine, and dream-Reynir is as chatty as the wake one, and she refuses to say a single word above that. Lilja laughs a bit tensely as they go to the bakery, and their talk falls apart. Back home, he reads the paper. “Onni Hotagæn?” it says in crooked handwriting. Not very Icelandic. Who’s that? Is it his new friend from the Academy? Or from the rescue team? But is it possible at all to find a foreigner when you’re not immune and not allowed to travel abroad? How did Reynir manage to get to the Silent World at all? But there’s lots of other stuff to wonder. Like, he really studied magic in an Academy? He searches through his shelves and chests. Nothing but junior school notes and fairytale books he has been reading as a kid. Or, the old lady was really out of her mind, maybe? In the morning, he asks dad about the Academy and is told not to worry mom. Reynir is puzzled so much that he forgets to ask about the unknown person. Dad would have told it outright if Reynir didn’t go to the Academy, and if he did, he is not going to do magic, just to know a fact or two about himself! It can’t be that bad, huh? He tries asking friends, they say no, but too fast or too slow, and avert their eyes. Guðrún doesn’t even answer, like dad, and tells her little brother to listen to mom. Oh, dream-Reynir said through the old lady not to trust friends, right? If the whole dream thing is true, that is. Reynir feels awful for believing a stranger over his closest people, but still he snatches a moment to ask Gunnar. The brat is not a friend at all. Sure, he can make things up. But at least he tells more, something to think about. Gunnar says he doesn’t care if Reynir lives or not, so... There was really nothing to brag about, Reynir exorcised some ghosts and got into a Silent World expedition, just a bunch of weirdos, in a box of canned tuna, laaame. And didn’t do much because of non-immunity, just sitting in a tank while others were plundering Old-World trash bins, and someone even got eaten by the trolls. Even a newspaper article about that expedition was sooo dumb. And Reynir didn’t really make new friends because those weirdos didn’t hang out with him while they stayed here in Brúardalur. What?? Reynir cuts in. People from the Outside were here? When? A year ago, duh. Gunnar seems offended by the interruption and says it’s enough. Reynir crouches along the backstreets not to bump into Lilja. He doesn’t know what to say; she’s really a nice girl, and he doesn’t want to hurt her with mistrustful questioning. But at home, he wonders again. Everyone must remember the visitors, but who’d know more, and who’d be eager to tell? Oh, Aunt Emilia, the keeper of the town bakery aka cafe. So he goes and promises in advance that it doesn’t deal with magic—what if mom asked Everyone not to overshare? Aunt Emilia tells fine, dear not-so-little Reynir, they were many, maybe even eight, the house of Árni Ragnarsson was bustling with visitors those days, even all Sigriður’s children came home. But the guests were departing at different times, and the longest-staying were an elderly chubby woman from Finland, always trying to entice youngsters to join their expedition company, a mid-aged, ever-cool Dane, a Norwegian hunter lady, very brisk but not speaking Icelandic, and two guys of Reynir’s age, no Icelandic either, a pretty one and a weird one, they’ve eaten a lot of pastry in the bakery. Was anyone called Onni H-something? Oh dear, it’s been a year ago, she doesn’t remember. No, wait, the pretty one was called almost like her, Emil, so she remembered him. And the other, strange one—maybe even Onni, some simple two-syllable name. They looked like a couple with the pretty one. It’s all very interesting but Reynir still doesn’t know anything about that mysterious man or why he is important. If he was engaged with the other one and didn’t hang out with Reynir for a month or two of their stay, why would dream-Reynir want to find him? And what newspaper did Gunnar mean? Reynir promises to himself to stop his quest at the slightest flicker of memory, but for now, nothing flickers, it’s like reading a mystery book about someone else. Curiosity gnaws at him like a midge in August. He has been abroad! Not remembering it sucks more than any reported horrors. So, he looks for any newspapers in his room, then all over the house, while mom is away. Nothing of interest. He even looks through the kindling stuff stack in the kitchen and, on a hunch, into the cooking stove. There’s something like paper, but it is actually ash. It’s impossible to read it or even to tell if it’s a newspaper or a notebook sheet. He looks better and finds something like an envelope, it’s of thicker paper and is better preserved, but still not much, no inscriptions left. Well, that may be just commercials, mom uses them to light up fire, that’s all they are worth. Reynir doesn’t want to think his mom can do that. Burning letters addressed to him. As for the newspaper, the next day he tells Lilja he has housework and then slips away to the library. It isn’t big, he has read all the books they have about foreign countries in childhood, but at least they keep Icelandic newspapers. And now he knows what time period to look for. Last May or June or so. The article is really lame, a waste of two pages. It doesn’t give a lot of names. There’s a photo of four expedition members, a stoic man and a perky woman must be the Dane and Norwegian Aunt Emilia has mentioned, and the other two younger and shorter ones must be the other couple, Emil and... That skinny, stunned boy is Onni, huh? The travel is described as disastrous, just as Reynir’s friends and mom tell. Phew, so they don’t lie after all? The next page has a photo of himself and his best guilty smile, like he is caught over a half-eaten blueberry pie. His story is really short and stupid, it doesn’t even say that he’s a mage! And then, yet another name is given. The girl who died. Tuuri Hotakainen. Reynir makes a double take and checks the piece of paper an old mage lady has given him. Is that how that H-something is really spelled? Reynir looks at her portrait for a long time. She wasn’t immune. She looks lively and is said to speak Icelandic; he might well be friends with her. Which of the other four looks like her? Er, no one? And is Onni Hotakainen her relative? Stop, is it a male name at all? The old mage lady said so. Did she remember it right, though? Does Reynir remember her words right? Maybe it’s Tuuri’s second name? No, why should he want to find a dead person? The riddle stays, and he can’t stop thinking about it. At home, he’s met by a very upset mom. Lilja must have told her of the strange encounter, or she has noticed her son asking questions—she doesn’t tell. Instead, she offers him, if he feels well, to go to the mountains to bring sheep from summer pastures home. Not alone, of course, Lilja will make him company in case he forgets any routes. Mom’s intentions, they’re so transparent, it’s embarrassing. Nights in the mountains mean some cuddling by the fire or in huts, or in hot springs, and a guy may be obliged to marry a girl afterwards. But Reynir can’t say no. She means good to him, right? At night, he tosses and turns and wakes up every now and then, even though he wants to sleep so much. Is it his dream self trying to say something? About what? Lilja, or the Onni guy? Okay, Reynir tells his dream self, Do you even know what goes on in the daytime? Give a sign, or what. Then I’ll believe in all this stuff in earnest. Closer to morning, he waves an arm, stretching, and hits the headboard edge with the back of his hand, really hard. The wooden board is rather chippy and leaves a bruise. A strange bruise, curved, with a sharp turn. Like a letter J. Wait, isn’t it a já? So… yes? Okaaay, but what shall he do? Well, he looks so terrible when he makes it down to the dining room that Mom has doubts and calls for a doctor. Reynir catches this chance to use the tricks Bjarni has taught him long ago to feign sickness. His brother never does him good, as their mom tells them, but it pays. Reynir is prohibited from going to the mountains or riding a horse, he stays home. Three boring days in bed are a small price for some thinking time. He wants to check out the communication with his dream self. In some other way, maybe? Bruises are not neat. It hurts, and it shows, and his family may be alarmed or think he’s into self-harm. So he takes an afternoon nap, and before hitting the pillow, he asks himself to wake up at once if dream-he can do that. Mom wakes him up in a couple of hours for dinner. So much for the contact. Later, mom tries her best to keep him busy at home with repairs, spinning, hay handling, greenhouse work, house chores, etc. She lets him walk idly only when Lilja drops by. Women chat a bit by themselves in the kitchen, Reynir is not invited but is sure it’s about him. The knowledge itches. Not knowing anything about an important piece of his own life, of important someone, is even more itchy. Hey, didn’t Aunt Emilia tell him that his siblings were all home together with the guests? So, Reynir finds a prop to visit Guðrún to wheedle any information about the other travellers from her. Not about the magic, no, he’s not going to return magic, he promises! But Guðrún knows even less than Aunt Emilia. She returned to Brúardalur later, when some of the guests were already away. Only Bjarni got home with the travellers because he had enrolled in the quarantine ship delivering the lost brother back to Iceland. Was anyone among the guests named Onni Hotakainen? Who knows. The skinny short guy had a last name like that, but she won’t bet on it. And Guðrún refuses to retell any of Reynir’s own stories of the travel, she agrees with their mom on that issue, magic is a murky matter, and they’d better not risk triggering anything. Bjarni, Reynir thinks. Bjarni is not fond of rules and restrictions, maybe the closest brother will tell more? In an idle talk about siblings, Reynir learns from dad what ship Bjarni serves now, sends a letter in secret, and promises not to dig into magic, for how many times already. The phrase becomes sort of a preamble to any talk to all people he knows. It feels kinda ridiculous to use tricks to talk to a sister or brother. Even the spreading darkness of the fall seems more depressing than before. Also, he shares his suspicions that his parents may be burning letters to him, so... The letter doesn’t make much sense, he fears, and who knows how long it will travel to Bjarni and back? Sudden awakenings continue through nights, and Reynir doesn’t know what to make of it. His sleeping schedule becomes chaotic, and it also shows. He’s tired so often, and seeing black circles under his eyes he wonders if it may do any harm to him. Well, if he just wonders, his mom is outright panicking. He tries to calm her down, he still doesn’t remember a thing, nothing to worry about. It’s true. Everything about the past, he writes it down in secret in a notebook and knows as a school text, not as a personal experience. The search does feel personal, though. But still, mom sends a letter to Reykjavik, and Reynir gets an appointment for a checkup a bit ahead of schedule. In some days, the two of them travel to the capital, even if it’s a very busy sheep-shearing season and every pair of hands is needed. Still, Reynir is excited to travel, and he gets some ideas. Like, to ask the motley mage lady in the clinic, much to mom’s horror, if it is possible, the trick with dream self still being a mage and remembering what is forgotten at daytime. It’s possible and customary, the nice lady answers, that’s what happens to the very old mages whose mind and flesh get frail with age and diseases. Then they retire and live in peace. And Reynir should do the same. The ones living on the continent can go on protecting their settlements from spirits during sleep, but here in Iceland it is meaningless. Mom nods, satisfied that an expert confirms her views. Reynir is not satisfied, he wouldn’t mind learning more, but before he asks anything else, the healer lady points out that her time is costly and scheduled for months ahead, and not to be wasted on retelling gossips from a dream person to his wake self, and Reynir should be grateful for just staying alive because someone of very high standing favours him; Reynir wouldn’t have gotten to diagnostics on a first-come, first-served basis in time, but a request came from External Affairs, signed by a big name, to admit Reynir Árnason out of turn. Maybe the same someone high-and-mighty arranged for the assistance of a Finnish mage, which was extremely useful, or Reynir would lose not just some memory but also some other vital functions. We mages, the motley lady adds, and Reynir is instantly proud of that ‘we’, we follow the will of gods, and mom glares at her. Reynir is all ears. If the gods take their gift and memory away, they do it for a purpose. It means your destiny is doing your modest but important duty at home and not acting all heroic in the far lands. Do not go against gods’ will. Reynir nods, it’s understandable (even if sad), but he wants to know who the Hel is one specific person. Wait, it dawns on him. The Finnish assistant mage was Onni Hotakainen, right? Right? Or that high-ranked someone? Or both? That would make sense, dream-Reynir may want to find him to thank in person. He looks at mom, she purses her lips and says she has no idea. The healer lady ushers them both out, Reynir is fine, she says; he just needs to stop overthinking when the truth may be simpler—what if his benefactor or the mage just doesn’t want to meet him? If he did, he’d definitely find Reynir afterwards, wouldn’t he? And take your prescription for nervine herbs at the reception desk. And yes, the Finnish mage was called something like that. Reynir has nothing more to say. Mom wants to return home the same day, meaning they must go to the stagecoach station at once, meaning Reynir won’t have time for another idea. Maybe he doesn’t need it, maybe the lady healer, mother, and gods are right. Oðinn, Freyja, he asks low clouds, sorry to bother you, but... if nothing happens now, I’ll understand that you really mean me to be a common shepherd all my life. Thank you. At the station, they learn the coach is delayed due to a blizzard in the mountains ahead. In Reykjavik, it’s storming too, just without snow. They have to stay in an inn until the weather is clear. Reynir asks mom to let him visit Oðinn and Freyja’s Temple to say thanks since he’s in the capital anyway, and he swears by gods he won’t run away. Permission is granted, and he strides down walking street bustling even in that lousy weather. Seeing the giant rise of the Temple ahead, he says heartfelt thanks from afar and turns to a side lane. The newspaper office is somewhere here. Ah, right, over there. Bæjarblaðið. Gods must really want to help him, the office is open yet, and one reporter, a nice glasses girl, remembers the article about the first expedition—she's been writing it!—and is willing to talk about it in a teahouse next door. Quite expensive one. But now Reynir has a full list of the team, as well as the names of the organisers and the address of the expedition company. Well, Onni Hotakainen is missing from both lists. But the girl, Kristín, remembers well why there’s no interview with Lalli Hotakainen (an immune mage and scout, by the way). A funny case it was, her colleague reporter complained that some gloomy blonde guy had smashed him in the face for asking. Reynir thanks her anyway. No big deal, she replies, she’s done such extensive research and it hasn’t been used in that article. And this year they merely reprinted an article from a Swedish newspaper about the second expedition because there were no stray Icelanders to be delivered home and the team returned straight to Sweden, no reporters were sent to meet them, so much for Kristín’s chances to travel, so at least she’ll enjoy chatting about it. Reynir feels for her, he can’t even dream of travelling, being non-immune. Kristín makes round eyes to match her glasses, and Reynir is stunned to hear that the travel ban was cancelled ages ago. Oh… He hurries back to the inn. It’s hard to face mom knowing that she can lie to him, that she has been lying to him, but he tries to behave as if nothing has happened. He doesn’t have spare mind for arguments. The storm settles down by the next morning, and the stagecoach rides through. The landscapes must be great, but Reynir keeps silent and stares in the window without seeing a thing. What if Onni Hotakainen doesn’t want or need to be found, and Reynir is just being silly and selfish? Like his mom this very moment, talking to him about farm matters without really waiting for his replies. He thinks his own thoughts. He has learned too little and too much at the same time. He still has no idea where to find Onni. Yes, Reynir can go abroad, but should he? Or shall his dream-self grow up and stop chasing dream-guys? Sure, it’s very intriguing—an adventure like in the stories of Reynir’s siblings. But he had an adventure once, and it ended badly. Maybe he’s just a simple shepherd, and that’s not bad, right? And the blizzard is not a voice of the gods but an absolutely normal thing for this season. Okay, he decides, next day, after resting from the trip, he’ll go to Lilja and make up with her. She’s pretty, she likes him a lot, and doesn’t deserve to be let down. Farming—Mom has told him not once he’s going to inherit the farm—it's a family business, marriage is of much help, so why not Lilja? He’ll get used to her.