"I think I'm loosing my mind," said Ken, his nerves raw and rupturing.
"Go on," said the woman seated before him.
"I, I don't think I've slept in weeks." He looked up from his downward stare to see her reaction. She smiled politely. "Really. I haven't slept for weeks. And, before that the dreams, so disturbing." He looked down at his shaking hands and paused for a moment. His eyes were bloodshot and his face ashen. He looked twice his age. After an uncomfortable moment he continued.
"My husband made me come here today. He's worried. The kid's are becoming scared..." He took a deep breath. "I keep dreaming of this kid's book. Except the dreams are so vivid, real. They seem more real than my actual life. My husband, Ken, yes we're both named Ken. So when I talk about Ken, I, I'm not talking about myself. That would be crazy." He tried to chuckle. "We have two kids, twins, boy and girl. Karl and Kate. Yes." This time he tried to smile as he continued to ramble, as if his rambling would some how distract himself from what he was doing, or thinking, or about to say. "Yes, Ken, Ken, Karl and Kate. The K's. Plus, it's Ken May and Ken Kay. We create MayKay everywhere we go." He nervously chuckled to himself. "You know a funny take on Mayhem, but with a bit of driving folks to commit hari-kari thrown in. That Japanese suicide thing." He quickly continued, "not that I'm going to commit suicide... or, do anything to the kids or Ken. Never."
He grabbed his hands to stop them from shaking.
"I'm obsessed with this kid's book. It's been coming on for months. At first, at first I thought it was just a fond memory from my childhood. You know, when you remember something that made you happy that you haven't thought about in years. But..." he paused and took a deep breath. "It soon became more than remembering my past. I'm remembering other people's pasts, people I don't know." He shook his head. "I can't stop thinking about it, them. I can't focus on work. I, I missed a parent-teacher conference. I, I forgot to pick them up from school..." He paused and a tear ran down his cheek. "Nothing seems to fill this need, this need to find out, more. I'm obsessed. I think about it day and night. It's taken over my life..." He wiped another tear. "I took a leave of absence from work, you know, I, I thought I just needed rest. But it's worse. I'm at my end."
He stopped and sat there.
"You mentioned a book?" the woman inquired innocently.
He looked up, tried to smile, gave an attempt at a self-deprecating chuckle and spoke. "It's those kid's books. Fillory. Silly I know. But I can't stop thinking about them. Like I've been there. Like they're actually about me. It's crazy. Stupid. I think I've lived inside a kid's book. It's so stupid. It doesn't make sense. How could this happen? To me. I'm just a normal guy, with kids, a family, parent-teacher conferences, soccer practice, piano, homework..."
"Are you remembering a time when you read these books?" asked the woman.
He looked her in the eye then as if remembering a crucial detail.
"No. I, I remember more, more than the books. I see myself, as a young man at a school, a school for," he paused. "A school for magic. Stupid. But my, my time there is more, real, than my life with, with my kid's. What kind of father am I?"
"Tell me about your latest vision," said the woman as she smiled warmly. "One that doesn't involve you."
"Ah, Okay. Well, there are these kids, at Brakebills. That's the school for magic. They, they are fighting this evil. They all have special gifts, which they use to fight this weird, evil, moth-man. I know this sounds idiotic but I have to say that man, the moth-man, he's scarier than shit. He has no head just a mass of, of moths." He pauses to laugh at himself. "I know this sounds demented. I can't believe I'm actually talking about all this."
"There were kids fighting this beast?" asked the woman.
"Yeah, yes. A guy named Quentin, and Julia, then there's Alice and Penny, he's a guy, and Eliot and Margo. I feel like I've gone to school with them."
"What did they do?" asked the woman patiently.
"Well, the last time they fought the moth-man they cast this spell. It was kind of a last desperate effort. Julia and Quentin fought about it, about what to do next. The guy, Quentin, felt they should just try something different, that maybe the solution didn't have to be difficult. Maybe the solution to defeating, this evil, could be simple."
"I see. You seem to know these characters well," said the woman.
"Yeah. I feel I know them so well. I know all their memories. Their lives. Their thoughts. Their previous lives. Everything. It's like, like my life is their life. No, like their life is mine. Like I'm really them. And, and not me. Their memories. They, they fill my head." He stopped and winced like he was trying to push something out of his head.
"Please. Tell me more," said the woman showing a bit of controlled excitement.
"The spell they tried was this complicated, ultra-mind-wipe spell. It removes your memories. They figured if they all did the spell simultaneously it would wipe the moth-man's memory completely. It would obliterate his memory; thus stop him. It didn't work though. All of them didn't do it. Julia, she's really powerful, her and Quentin argued and she refused to do it. She left them. And they failed." He paused for a moment. "They all died. Except for Julia."
He winced and placed his hands to his head as if recounting the vision caused great difficulty.
"Is that all you remember?" she asked.
"The memories. They're, filling in, backwards. I'm getting more and more. It's too much. It's like, like it all started with that spell, the spell to wipe the moth-man's memory. Like it, it woke me up. I started to remember and things filled in, filled in backwards in time. I'm seeing their childhood now. It's all playing in my head. And, my, my memories started to come back. But they were different. I was there, you know, at Brakebills..." he trailed off.
"Fascinating. You are very powerful you know," stated the woman.
"What?"
"You were at Brakebills."
"What?" he shook his head as if the pain increased. "Who are you? Is this, is this just another, dream. I'm I going that crazy now..."
"No. You're not crazy. My name is Jane Chatwin."
"Jane..." he said puzzled. "You're not a doctor?"
"You are a powerful magician. So powerful you could no longer control it. You asked to have your memory wiped. Like the spell you spoke of. In fact, the spell they used was your very own spell."
"I don't understand."
"You were at Brakebills. You are a very strong empath. A Memory Empath. It's very rare. Your gift was, is, collecting painful memories and helping to dissolve them. Healing the memories. Taking the painful memories, absorbing them, and then dissolving them. Relieving the great pain of others. Pain naturally flows into you. It came at a cost. You asked to have your memory wiped. To, in effect, have your power taken away."
"Wait. You're saying all this is real? These memories are real? Magic... is real?"
"Yes."
"These kids. They're real. And they died?"
"If they don't defeat him this time, I still have another chance, for them, to defeat the beast, what you call the moth-man. You have given me an idea, a crazy idea. What would happen if Julia was out of the equation?"
Ken sat there in disbelief shaking his head.
"When I reset time your memory of all this will disappear. Your pain will go away. The spell, which backfired and caused your memories and your gift to return with a vengeance, will have never happened and you will go back to your life."
"But, I won't know that magic is real."
"No, you won't. You chose a much greater path."
"What do you mean? Can't you find a way to help me?"
"Years ago you decided your power was too great. You set yourself on a greater path. One that will impact future generations."
"What do you mean?" Tears began to well up in his eyes.
"If you had not given up on your power you would have never met Ken and you would never have had your children. Karl and Kate."
"What about Karl and Kate?"
"They are the key. The key to saving the next generation."