In Steel's dream, the familiar lake spread out in front of him. The day wasn't a mild spring afternoon like usual, but a chilled day with high winds that signaled the start of winter. Steel knelt on the ground, his skinny legs those of an adult, but one who had not yet been toughened by war. This dream was not a childhood memory. It was real and close. Heat billowed in his face despite the cold and when he looked up, he saw why. A fire raged on the other side of the lake, taking over most of the horizon as a dancing orange wall. The town was burning.

The dream did not end there. Though the fire should have been the most important things, it wasn't the focus. Steel was looking down at a hole that had been dug in the soil in front of him. About a foot down, a preserves jar had been buried. He reached a hand into the hole and felt the cold glass fit perfectly in his hand. He ran a thumb over the lid and started to twist it open.

Steel woke with a start, his gasps filling the room. Tear tracks stained his face, but his eyes were dry. For a minute he couldn't even think. The lake didn't even exist anymore. The town he grew up in, gone. And somewhere in the cold soil of North Dakota was a jar. He knew he'd buried it years ago, maybe with the companion from his dreams, maybe after they had parted ways. Either way, whatever was in the jar was the answer to everything he wanted to know. His friend...Lee, his missing memories, and why his memories were missing in the first place. Now he just needed to remember what was in the jar.