About others’ memories.
It was a topic I had never particularly pondered before. In the first place, what reason would there be to quibble over someone else’s memories?
It wasn’t even worth contemplating. People living ordinary lives probably wouldn’t even think of such a subject.
The only problem was that my life had long deviated from the track of an ‘ordinary life.’
I could peek into others’ memories.
No, the expression ‘others’ might be misleading. Because the subject was none other than ‘me.’
The recollections of a certain man who had to walk a solitary path.
That hazy dream regained its texture and sensation, appearing before my eyes. I had realized the identity of this small girl living and moving long ago.
It was the ‘Great Witch.’
One of only three Masters on the continent, and the person whom the me from the future had served as a master.
At the surging emotion welling up, I trembled my eyelids. The memories weren’t mine, so this excitement wasn’t my share either, yet it was like that.
Just the lingering echo was enough to make me lose my composure for a…