Osvald doubted he would ever get used to coming back to Conning Creek again. 

Even though he had only been there a few short weeks ago to help Ochette with her search for Cateracta, Osvald felt as if he had been away for decades. He hadn't been able to truly process all the ways in which the town had changed while he was helping Ochette, too busy on the beach to really examine the home he had once adored so deeply. Now though, Osvald had all the time in the world, and the only choice he had was to notice just how much the world had moved on without giving him a second thought. So much had changed, and there was nothing Osvald would ever be able to do to catch up with it fully. He could hope for the best, but it would never be enough after he had spent five years rotting behind bars for a crime he didn't commit. 

Once upon a time, Osvald's entirely life had been in Conning Creek. He traveled to Montwise somewhat often for the sake of his work, but he hadn't ever wanted to move there. Montwise was nice, of course, but his true home was in Conning Creek. It was where he had grown up, and even after his parents passed away, he still thought of it as the only place he could ever call his own. Rita and Elena loved it too. Elena adored trips to the beach, and she could spend hours watching the water dance on the shore and wishing she could swim out to explore the deep blue for herself. Rita found Conning Creek to be the most charming town she had ever visited, and she had no reason to want to leave. It was their home, and Osvald wouldn't have had any reason to leave it behind permanently without Harvey interfering and ruining everything. 

Osvald and the rest of the travelers had slipped into Conning Creek carefully, choosing to pass through a string of trees and bushes to get into town without being spotted by anyone. In the end, their plan to enter Conning Creek through the beach had proven to be unnecessary. They got to town in the middle of the day at a perfect time when almost no one was around, and as such, they had no problems with getting into Conning Creek. They would have to be quick and careful with their time there to ensure they were not sent the opposite direction by Ku soldiers or the local town guard, but Osvald was fine with that. He didn't know if he would have been able to stand lingering in Conning Creek for longer than was necessary anyway. 

It was strange to think about. For a time, Osvald had wanted nothing more than to go back to Conning Creek so he could have a taste of the home he had lost when Harvey took everything from him... But now that he was there, he didn't know if he was ever going to be able to stay there long term again. It simply didn't feel like his home anymore. So much had changed since he was last there. It wasn't the slow change that came with the natural passage of time either. The difference between his memories and the world as it unfolded before him was stark, and it was almost too much for him to bear. This was the place he had loved so dearly, but at the same time, it didn't feel like it at all. Osvald had known the world was going to keep moving without him when he went to Frigit, but he hadn't ever imagined it would feel quite so bitterly miserable to have to face it. He supposed that knowing something was going to change and seeing it personally were two entirely separate issues, but... 

Osvald let out a slow breath. He couldn't afford to lose himself to sentimentality. It wasn't as if it would do him much good anyway since he couldn't go back to the past anymore. It was impossible to reverse the hands of time, and if it was possible, then he was certain he would have charted out a theoretical path to the truth when he was in Frigit. He may have not had access to his research materials, but he still knew everything he had to in order to chart out his escape route back then. He had been desperate to go back to the way things had been before, and yet, he had found time and again that it was impossible. There was nothing to be done... 

Nothing aside from finding Harvey and sending him to hell for the pain he had brought to the world. 

"Harvey..." Osvald muttered under his breath, unable to contain his rage for a moment longer. Just saying the man's name made him want to scream. They had been friends, or at the very least, that was what Osvald had thought. It hadn't meant much in the end though, had it? Harvey had still taken everything from Osvald in the blink of an eye, and he hadn't felt bad about anything when he did it. Harvey was too set in his ways of hatred toward Osvald to recognize the monstrosity of what he was doing... Or perhaps he knew exactly what evils he was bringing to the world and simply did not care. Osvald supposed it didn't matter much at the end of the day. So long as he was able to do what he had come there to do, everything would be fine. So long as Harvey wound up dead in the ground, Osvald would be as satisfied as he possibly could have been. "I shall have my revenge on you!"

Unfortunately, the process of finding Harvey was going to be a bit more complicated than Osvald expected. He didn't know where Harvey had gone after the fire. Harvey seemingly disappeared into nothingness even though he had been there when the Vanstein home burned. Osvald had only two theories of places where Harvey could have been: Conning Creek and Montwise. Much like Osvald, Harvey often made the journey to Montwise to study in the library there and continue his research, so it would have been easy enough to guess that he was there trying to learn more about the world... 

But in the end, Osvald decided to not pursue Montwise as his first lead. Conning Creek felt like a much safer choice for a place to investigate because it was the scene of the fire. Even if Osvald did not find Harvey in Conning Creek, he was certain he would be able to find a little bit of evidence that could lead him to the truth. Perhaps Osvald would be able to punish the guards who had allowed Harvey to get away with the crime too. He wasn't entirely certain yet, but he was sure he would learn more before he left town. This time, he wasn't walking away without the answers he needed. 

"Where are we going to be starting?" Throné asked as she came up just beside Osvald. "You have an idea of where we should investigate first, I assume."

Osvald nodded. "I do... We're going back to the scene of the fire." He hated that he had to speak those words, but he knew avoiding the truth of the matter wouldn't help anybody. One way or another, he was going to have to go back to the site of his home and sift through the remnants of the inferno. There must have been at least something there for him to find. Osvald couldn't imagine it was all gone... And even if it was, he supposed that would be a helpful clue for him in its own way. 

The rest of the travelers said nothing in response to Osvald's words, not wanting to push him away from what he knew he had to do for the sake of the investigation but simultaneously feeling horrible about the fact that he had to go back at all. Osvald did his best to not think about the ways in which they were all looking at him since he knew it would only make him feel worse. He didn't want their pity. Being around them was nice and welcoming, but at the same time, it left him squirming from a deep discomfort he couldn't seem to voice. Hearing them sympathize with him would only make him feel worse, and he was having a miserable enough day as it was. 

Throné approached Osvald carefully, deciding to walk alongside him on the way through town. At first, Osvald thought she was just there to offer her silent solidarity since that seemed to be what she did best. All of his beliefs were broken though when she snuck a brief look up at him out of the corner of her eye. "Tell me something, Osvald," she began, and Osvald hummed as he looked over at her. "You escaped from Frigit Isle, right?"

Osvald blinked incredulously at the question. Throné knew the answer to that. Of course she did. She had heard his story when he recounted how he wound up in the snows near Cape Cold. "I wouldn't be here otherwise," Osvald finally replied after a few seconds of silence. He didn't know why she was starting the conversation that way, but he was hoping she explained herself soon. 

Throné's eyes filled with something like hope as she glanced up at him once more. "How did it feel when you finally escaped?"

Osvald frowned. He hadn't thought much of his emotions during the actual escape. He had been busy trying to not freeze to death. Even if he had felt something of note, he doubted he would have been able to explain it because his emotions always seemed to die away on his tongue when he tried to voice them. "It didn't feel any particular way."

There was something like shock on Throné's face now, but beyond that, Osvald almost could have sworn he saw... Despair. Sadness. Grief. Fear. "You didn't feel anything when you won your freedom? No sense of liberation?"

Osvald paused for a long moment. He stared at the path ahead, and his fingers began to clench together tightly in a fist. "If I do, it will come after finishing what I set out to do." Escaping from Frigit had only been the beginning for him. He still had a lot of work that had yet to be done, and he wouldn't be free of his determination and the rage in his heart until after every last piece of it had been completed. He wouldn't be free until Harvey was dead. 

"You mean when you get your revenge," Throné concluded, and Osvald nodded. Rather than looking at his face for any longer, Throné allowed her gaze to drift down toward his neck. His collar was long gone thanks to Throné picking it off herself a few towns ago, but she still seemed to be able to see it somehow. Osvald felt like he could feel the weight and cold of the steel too even though he hated having to admit he could sense the somatic in times like these. "I can see the collar around your neck, Professor. You may have fled your cage, but you're still a prisoner, too."

Osvald pressed his lips together in a thin line that threatened to consume the rest of his features. Throné's use of the word 'too' told Osvald that she felt just as trapped, though he wasn't surprised by this in the slightest given the way she had spoken about her time in the Blacksnakes in the past. She didn't talk about it much, but Osvald could still see the effect it had on her to this day. In a way, Osvald supposed he could sympathize. He could still feel the limitations of Frigit pressing down on him even though he had done his part to escape from the island itself. Something about it continued to haunt him despite his best efforts to look to the future and detach himself from the place that had gone so far to ruin his life. 

Osvald doubted it was ever going to stop frustrating him to think about. He was no longer on the island, so he had no reason to think about it anymore... But he went right back to remembering Frigit again and again. He had lost so much because he was locked away from the world for five years, and he was going to spend the rest of his days chasing to catch up with others despite knowing he would never be able to do it. Even though he was free in theory, Osvald didn't know if he ever really would be. Maybe Throné would turn out to be the same. It was just a shame she couldn't pick off their invisible collars with her thieving skills. 

Agnea approached Osvald from the other side, seemingly desperate to break through the awkwardness that had settled over the group at the mention of his home. She had her hands pressed behind her back and curiosity in her eyes, though something about it was dark. Osvald was already sure the question she was about to ask wasn't going to be an easy one to hear, but no matter what it was, he knew it wasn't going to be as bad as some other things he had been forced to put up with over the course of his life. "Osvald..." Agnea began, and he hummed softly to prompt her to continue. "Did they feed you well in prison?"

Osvald got the feeling this was a question Agnea had been thinking through for quite some time. After all, he had explained before that he had been muzzled, and that left a bunch of questions open about how he was able to go about his life. "I'd... Rather not think about it," Osvald began. To put it simply, he was glad he didn't have to go through those same motions anymore, and he was hoping he never had to consider it again either. "They muzzled me."

There was sadness on Agnea's face when she nodded, but her confusion remained prominent in her eyes. "Then... How did you eat?"

"I tore the bread up into little pieces and shoved it through a tiny hole in the thing," Osvald answered. At times, he wondered if it was some sick choice by Davids to make sure he had to suffer as much as possible when he was eating. Davids couldn't even just kill him with starvation to get rid of him; the warden got a sick satisfaction out of seeing Osvald miserable. That was true of a lot of people at Frigit though. It seemed to Osvald that most of them were jealous of the success he had seen in life before he was forced behind bars, and they wanted to assert their superiority over him by showing they could be better than him in any small way they could. Sometimes, that just meant putting him through hell for the sake of it. Osvald could understand it in a loose sense, he supposed, but it did little to make his situation any better for him. 

"That sounds horrible..." Agnea whispered, her gaze falling onto the ground before her feet. "It must've been tough not being able to talk... You couldn't even sing... What a nightmare."

Osvald frowned quietly. When Agnea phrased it that way, the situation truly did sound horrible in a way that most people wouldn't have thought themselves capable of surviving... But Osvald had no other choice but to live through it. He had endured the unspeakable and pushed through the unlivable because he had no other options. One way or another, he needed to get out of Frigit so he would be able to kill Harvey and bring his family the salvation they had never been able to find in life. 

Agnea's specific mention of singing struck Osvald deeply despite his wishes to the contrary. He hadn't ever been much of a singer... Before he met Rita. She had loved music, and she had insisted on dragging him through a few songs when they were first getting to know each other. After they were married and had Elena, Osvald continued to sing every once in a while. Most of the time, it was just lullabies to help Elena to get to sleep. Elena loved his singing voice though, and sometimes, she just wanted to spend time with him for the sake of hearing him sing. It had meant a lot to Osvald to know that he could have such a positive impact on someone regarding something he hadn't ever put much effort into... 

But Elena was gone now. There was no reason for Osvald to sing without Rita asking him to hum to their improvised kitchen waltzes. There was nothing Osvald had to sing for without Elena wanting to hear his voice and know he was there with her. There was nothing anymore other than the song of the flame of vengeance in his breast and the way it shrieked for Harvey's blood to be spilled across the floor. He had lost so much, and he was never going to be able to get any of it back. 

Osvald let out a slow breath. "Well, seeing as I don't sing normally, that part wasn't a great loss." Agnea didn't need to know about all of the ways in which singing had grown complicated for him through the birth and subsequent death of his daughter. He didn't want to talk about it. There were many things he preferred to avoid, and somehow, the idea of talking to Agnea of all people about it was too much. She was so sweet and kind, and Osvald still didn't know how to navigate it. Being with the travelers was like stepping into the sun, and yet, he knew he was always at risk of being burned because he did not know what it was like to truly feel safe anywhere anymore. 

Osvald's thoughts fell silent when he passed by the graveyard of Conning Creek. He didn't know if Rita and Elena were there, but he supposed it didn't matter much. He wasn't going to let himself go look until after he had taken care of his other business in town. Instead, Osvald walked right past the cemetery and up the last set of steps toward his home. After five long years spent away, he was right back where he had started... And he didn't know if anything else in the world could have possibly hurt more than that. 

The Vanstein home had fallen into disrepair, but that word felt a bit too generous for the damage left behind by the fire. Only the barest traces of the house's structure were left behind, the roof having caved in years ago thanks to the blaze and the elements. The stone gate out front had begun to crumble too, and the backside of the wall was singed from the flames. The swing set Elena had once loved had fallen apart, one of the chains having snapped and half of the bench having burned away years ago. No one had come back to the home in years, and there was no reason for them to bother. As far as the people of Conning Creek were concerned, this place was cursed. It had been destroyed by someone they had thought of as a kind neighbor, and it had killed people they had adored deeply. No one in town wanted anything to do with Osvald anymore, and he could barely blame them. He doubted he would be able to win back the years of goodwill he had lost from his time on Frigit no matter how hard he tried. Harvey had simply taken too much. 

Ochette took a small step toward the ruins of the house. "Is this...?"

"My home," Osvald finished for her simply. Even when it was dilapidated and destroyed, Osvald still thought of it as his home. He could still remember the exact floor plan perfectly, and he could walk through it in his mind too. In his notebook on Frigit, Osvald had written out everything he needed to know about his home so he could make sure he did not forget it. He knew memories could be cruel things that betrayed people in the moments they least expected, but Osvald did not want that to happen with his home. He wanted to remember, and if he was the only one who would shoulder the burden of recalling what it had once been like to live in Conning Creek, then so be it. 

Osvald could still remember the day the house burned perfectly. He had gone for a walk through the forests near Conning Creek in an effort to clear his head and focus his thoughts. At the time, he had been so focused on finding the One True Magic... He regretted it deeply now, and he wished he had spent more time enjoying the company of his family. If he had just come back a bit sooner, perhaps he could have stopped the blaze. 

Instead, Osvald had fallen right into Harvey's trap, and he was seized by the town guards as soon as he arrived back at the scene. He was shipped off to Timberain for his trial and then to Frigit Isle to live out the rest of his sentence. Everything had fallen apart so quickly, and Osvald doubted he would ever be able to forget the sting that came with losing so much in so little time. All it could take was a moment, and he had been foolish enough to surrender one to Harvey. 

Osvald walked over to the entrance of the home. He was going to have to sift through what was left sooner or later, and standing around wasn't accomplishing anything. He let out a slow breath and curled his fingers around the doorknob. Somehow, it was still intact after all that had happened. With that, Osvald twisted it and stepped through the doorway...

~~~~~

And right into the past.

Rita had been standing near the stove when Osvald arrived, humming her favorite song under her breath. She fell silent when she realized Osvald had returned, and she faced him with a bright smile. "Welcome home, my dear," Rita greeted. When she noticed the smile on Osvald's face, her own grew wider. "I see the conference was a rousing success!"

Years ago, Osvald's face was shaven, and his hair was tied into a neat ponytail at the base of his neck. He wore fine clothing and held a briefcase containing his research in one hand. His glasses were pristine and sat evenly on his face, a far cry from the natural damage they had sustained from his time on Frigit. His smiles came to him easily, and he had no reason to be upset with much of anything at all. Even when his research stalled, Osvald was certain it would all go somewhere soon enough. Patience was a virtue, and it was one he was going to hold close to his chest until he was able to convince his research to bear fruit. 

"Indeed," Osvald nodded. He set his briefcase down beside the door, planning to take it up to his office later but needing to greet his beloved properly first. "Forgive me for being away so long."

Thunderous footsteps raced throughout the house, and Osvald turned to face the other person he had been waiting to see. Elena nearly tripped over her own feet in her excitement to reach Osvald, and once she was standing in front of him, he could see just how bright her grin had become. Elena saw the sun in Osvald's eyes, and she couldn't wait until she was old enough to follow in his footsteps to become a genius researcher too. "Welcome home, Papa!" Elena cried out, opening her arms and then rushing toward Osvald for a tight embrace.

"Oh, Elena, my dear!" Osvald greeted in return, pulling Elena tight against his chest. As much as he adored spending his time researching the properties of magic, nothing could ever make him happier than returning home to the family he loved most. Rita and Elena were his everything, and if he could, he would move the entire library of Montwise there to Conning Creek so they could spend a little bit more time together.

After their hug had ended, Elena pulled away from Osvald, her gaze settling on his briefcase. "Aren't you tired? Lemme take your things!" She had always been eager to help however she could, and today was no exception. Unfortunately, her desire to help was nowhere near enough to fully push her across the finish line to her goal today. Osvald's briefcase was far heavier than it looked, and despite her strained efforts to lift it, she couldn't get it off the ground. She gave up with a heavy sigh and a small bead of sweat on her brow, though Osvald could tell she would keep trying to pull the briefcase back to its home in his office all day if he let her. 

Osvald shook his head with a humored laugh. "They're a bit heavy for you yet, but I appreciate the offer!" he told her. He effortlessly picked up the briefcase once again, and Elena's eyes sparkled with awe at just how easily her father was able to lift something that had given her so much trouble. Osvald reached into the outer pocket of his briefcase, and he pulled something else out before pressing it into Elena's hand. "Here, take this instead."

Elena gasped excitedly as she rotated Osvald's gift over in her hands. "What a pretty pen! Thank you, Papa!" she grinned. She could hardly wait to put the pen to good use in her own research. She may not have been able to learn as much as her father, but one day, she would catch up to him. Elena had taken an interest in his work ages ago, and her career path had already been decided: she would be a scholar just like Osvald. She would stand by his side in academic conferences, and they would share their findings with the world together. There was no place she would rather be, and she needed the rest of the people in her life to know it. 

"I searched all over, and I'm sorry to say I found nothing better to give you," Osvald said apologetically. Each time he left Conning Creek, he had to look for a gift to present to his darling daughter. Unfortunately, academic conferences didn't tend to offer much that could be of use to a young girl, forcing Osvald to improvise at times. That never stopped him from trying though. He wanted to give Elena as much love for the rest of the world as possible, after all. 

Rita nudged him gently with a smile. "Come now. When else can you bury yourself in your studies if not at a conference?" she asked. Osvald couldn't help but agree. For a time, he had been able to dedicate all of his attention to studying magic and everything tied up in its practice... 

But now, he was at home again, and the role of scholar was going to have to be put aside. Instead, he needed to focus on donning the role of father. Osvald turned to face his daughter once more, finding she was still admiring the pen he had given her. "Come, Elena. There is math to teach you!" Osvald declared. 

"Yay!" Elena cheered. Most other children her age hardly took an interest in math, but Elena liked to stand apart from the rest of them. After all, her peers didn't have fathers who had studied the field of magic dozens of times over. This was something to be proud of even if they weren't as interested in the same subjects she was. 

"Oh, you two," Rita teased with a laugh. Osvald and Elena were just like each other, and there was no sweeter sight in the world than seeing the two people she loved most smile and laugh together. She could spend her entire life caught up in moments like that. 

"Papa, wait. Aren't you forgetting something?" Elena asked before Osvald could lead her back to his study. 

Osvald tilted his head to the side. "Hm? Am I?"

"You didn't say 'I'm home!' yet," Elena answered. She had always been strict about routines. She and Osvald were much the same in that regard. She couldn't tolerate a disruption from her schedule, and Osvald declaring that he had arrived home after a long trip was one of the most important pieces of his return dates.

Osvald offered Elena a chuckle, and he nodded as he opened his lips...

~~~~~

"I'm home."

In the present, Osvald stood in the empty husk that had once been the entryway and kitchen. He could still remember the way Rita had stood at the stove when she was making Osvald's favorite meals. He could still remember the way Elena's footsteps had rushed down the hallway when she realized her father had returned from a long trip out of town. He could still remember so much about both of them, and yet, it would never feel like enough. 

There in the hollow remnants of the Vanstein home, Osvald was alone. The rest of the travelers were nearby, but they were not Rita and Elena. He had lost that which he would never be able to get back, and all he could do was visit his brightest memories. Rita and Elena were gone, and Osvald was the only one left behind by their deaths. Only he could remember them for all of the light and love they had brought to the world around them. 

Only he could avenge them after they had passed... And so, Osvald would tear Harvey limb from limb, and the flame in his breast would finally be able to soothe. 

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Oof... Heavy chapter. 

That's to be expected with an Osvald chapter no matter how you look at it, but it's still sad to have to see him so upset under any circumstances, you know? Even so, I'm happy with how this chapter turned out. It's definitely on the slower side, but I think that works for what this chapter as a whole is trying to accomplish. Poor Osvald. He deserves a break. 

Unfortunately, he's not going to get one, and we're probably going to jump into our mini-boss of the chapter next time. So you can look forward to that later on. Until then, I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. Comments and kudos are appreciated as always. Have a nice day, everyone!

-Digital