In Chapter 73, Ray‘s ghost experienced a partial memory:

The year is 4705. 13 years ago. The place is Market Street, the town of Thrushmoor, Versex Country, the Immortal Principality of Ustalav, the continent of Avistan, the planet of Golarion, on the Prime Material Plane. The Real World.

This is real. This is happening.

Two small figures walk down Market Street. A little boy, 9 years old. Pale and thin, his head’s a little too big for his body, it looks like his joints are kinda messed up. He’s hiding behind a mop of dark black hair. And a little girl, 4 years old. Metallic bronze skin, bright purple eyes. Long, straight, yellow hair. We see her, somehow.

Brother and sister are holding hands.

They pass the Fish Market. They pass the road that veers up to the High Mart. They pass what will one day be Lelwyn’s place. There’s nothing across the street right now. Not yet. At this point in time, the town still hasn’t decided what to do for a church, since Causton Creed and the Incident at the Old Chapel. Which they’re all trying to forget.

Down Market Street they go. Brother and sister. Brayden has a shit-eating grin plastered all over his face. He loves secrets. And he especially loves when Daria does her little trick. Bamf! she goes, and nobody can see her. He doesn’t know how she does it, but the feeling of holding your best (and only) friend’s hand in yours while nobody in the world but you knows they’re there–it’s intoxicating.

Kind of like Miss Melisenn’s Fun Juice. Though, she’s stopped drinking that, lately. “Trying to get her act together,” dad says. “Trying to take control of the endless string of disappointments that make up her wasted life.”

Brayden and Daria pass the East End well, pass the last cluster of houses, and reach… the fence. It’s supposed to keep people out, but there are holes. Tons of them. Kid-sized holes.

Daria whispers urgently, she reminds Brayden that they’re not supposed to be here. The fog is getting thick. She’s scared.

Brayden assures her everything’s going to be okay. He speaks adult. He knows how to read through the lines. Dad all but said it was okay. And he gave them some Fun Juice. Blue. Fizzy. Fun!

Daria doesn’t like the look of it—Dr. Vatticus makes her nervous—so Brayden drinks it all.

And they squeeze through the empty slats in the Wailing House fence and disappear into the mists.

Standing in the front room of the Wailing House, halfway here, halfway there, nowhere really, not living, not dead, trapped in an endless state of torment, Ray’s ghost paces. He doesn’t understand that he’s causing weird, oscillating lights to flash inside the old mansion, or that the more he moves, the colder it gets. He doesn’t understand that. Because he doesn’t understand anything but pain. And he doesn’t understand why he can’t remember. Why can’t he remember? Shouldn’t his memories have come back? Where are they? They feel so close now… just, like, right there… like ONE MORE LAYER DOWN?… but also further away than he can fathom.

He knows the walk. He knows the Fun Juice. He knows the fog, and slipping through the slats. He knows he comes-to with his necklace wrapped tight around his hand. He knows he runs.

He knows she’s dead. He knows she’s dead. He knows she’s dead.

But what lives in the spaces of his memory he cannot see? Is he defined by those spaces? By the things he did that he cannot remember? By Loss… and Consequence?

He screams. He screams the name. He screams her name.

First Reference: Chapter 73
Other Notable References:


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