The Promise of the Past (Patreon)

In a quiet, secluded cottage nestled in the heart of a dense forest, there lived an old man named Oliver. Time had etched countless wrinkles onto his face, and his hair had long turned a silvery white. Yet, his eyes still shone with a youthful sparkle, for he clung to a powerful hope that time itself could not extinguish.

Many years ago, in a village far away, Oliver had met and fallen deeply in love with a young man named Evan. Their love was a secret, forbidden affair, for the world they lived in was unaccepting of such bonds. As they grew older, Evan fell gravely ill. On his deathbed, he whispered a desperate plea to Oliver: "Promise me, my love, that you will find a way to bring me back to life."

Evan passed away that very night, leaving Oliver heartbroken and full of anguish. But he swore to fulfill Evan's last wish, and for decades, he embarked on an unwavering quest to resurrect his beloved.

Oliver delved into ancient texts, consulted with sages and scholars, and explored every corner of the world in search of a method to bring back the dead. Yet, all his efforts yielded nothing but heartache and despair. Until, one day, he stumbled upon a mysterious book hidden in the depths of an ancient library – a book that spoke of the elusive art of alchemy.

With newfound hope, Oliver threw himself into the study of alchemy, mastering its secrets and unlocking its arcane mysteries. He learned that, indeed, it was possible to bring the dead back to life. However, the method required rare ingredients and powerful alchemical rituals.

All Oliver had from Evan was a single strand of hair, kept safe and cherished for three decades. With that strand, he could create a tiny version of his beloved, albeit not quite the same as the living Evan he remembered. He had a dilemma: either attempt the ritual on a smaller scale or continue his search for the necessary materials.

Desperation gnawing at his heart, Oliver chose the former. He meticulously followed the instructions from the ancient text, hoping to recreate Evan's essence in a smaller, miniature form. For days and nights, he toiled over bubbling cauldrons, drew intricate symbols, and whispered ancient incantations.

Finally, the culmination of his work was complete. In the pale moonlight of his cottage, a small, lifelike puppet lay on his workbench. With trembling hands, he carefully moved the puppet's limbs. It stirred, but only slightly, like a marionette with a clumsy puppeteer.

Tears welled up in Oliver's eyes as he realized that his desperate attempt had failed. Evan's essence was too vast, too complex to be captured in such a diminutive form. The puppet before him, though animated, was nothing more than a lifeless mimicry of the man he loved.

Oliver cradled the puppet in his arms, whispering apologies and words of love to it. He had failed to bring Evan back to life, but he had succeeded in keeping his promise in a way, for a part of Evan lived on in the puppet.