Dust swirled in the attic as we rummaged through boxes of old decorations. My fingers froze when I found a tiny, faded ornament, delicate and strange, unlike anything I remembered from past Christmases.

Solivan picked it up, examining the chipped paint and curling ribbon. “This… this was ours.” He murmured, eyes distant.

We hung it on the tree. The lights flickered, shadows danced across the walls, and faint whispers seemed to thread through the air. A message appeared on the glass of the ornament: “Remember me.”

Only Solivan could read it. He bent closer, tracing the words with a trembling finger. The room felt colder, yet filled with an uncanny warmth, as if the ornament itself was alive with memory.

He straightened, a solemn smile touching his lips.

"I remember everything."