The darkness in the Eidolith passage was unlike any darkness Cairn had ever known. It was alive, pulsating, as if breathing with every step they took. The high tunnel ceiling shimmered with pale blue light spots, like scattered stars in an inverted sky.
Cairn and Aliana advanced slowly, their footsteps echoing in the void of the seemingly endless passage. The tunnel walls weren't made of ordinary rock but of a black glass-like material, reflecting faint images of their forms as they passed, as if preserving the memory of everyone who had walked this path.
"How far is the entrance to Eidolith?" Cairn whispered, his voice sounding strange in the silent void.
"A full day's journey," Aliana replied, adjusting the brightness of the small lamp she carried. "And we need to stop soon to rest. You've drained a lot of energy in the confrontation."
[No time to rest. The longer we stay here, the greater the risk of being discovered.]
Cairn ignored the voice in his head, focusing on the path ahead. He carried the Pivot Helmet in one hand, examining it occasionally. It was heavy, made of a strange metal, its red lens still faintly glowing.
"What are you going to do with it?" Aliana asked, looking at the helmet with disgust.
"I'm not sure," Cairn admitted. "But I feel... I feel it might be useful."
Aliana suddenly stopped, raising her hand in a gesture of silence. She listened for a moment, then whispered, "Do you hear that?"
Cairn focused, and after a few moments, he heard it: a faint whisper, overlapping voices, like distant conversations or echoes of long-past dialogues.
"Memories of the passage," Aliana said softly. "They manifest strongly here. This black material the walls are made of is called 'Forgetful Glass.' It absorbs memories and retains them."
"Is it dangerous?"
"Not dangerous, but..." Aliana hesitated. "In some areas, the memories can take on... a more physical form."
As if her words summoned what she described, hazy images began to appear on the walls: faint faces, twisted shapes, scenes from the lives of people Cairn didn't know. The further they advanced, the denser these images became until they started emerging from the surface of the walls, taking three-dimensional forms roaming the surrounding space.
The ghost of a woman in an old dress passed by them without noticing, silently weeping. Two children played with an invisible ball. An old man sat on the ground, his hands moving as if playing an imaginary musical instrument.
"Memory phantoms," Aliana whispered. "Don't fear them, and don't try to touch them. They're just embodied memories; they can't see or interact with us."
They continued walking cautiously among these phantoms, which grew denser with each step. The sounds became louder, the scenes clearer, and the details sharper. Countless stories of different lives were displayed around them.
[How many stories ended here? How many dreams shattered on these walls? Look at what they've done to the world, Cairn.]
Suddenly, Cairn stopped, his eyes fixed on a specific scene among the phantoms. It was a young man in his twenties, his face strangely familiar, wearing a simple white outfit unlike the Keepers' attire. He stood before a group of people, passionately explaining something.
"Aliana..." Cairn whispered anxiously. "Do you see that person?"
She looked to where he was pointing. "Yes. What about him?"
"I feel... I feel like I know him."
[Of course, you know him. It's you.]
Cairn felt a sudden dizziness, a sharp headache piercing his head. Fragmented, rapid images flooded his mind:
A large, well-lit hall... many faces looking at him... his voice speaking about "the possibilities of storing human memories"... applause... then, suddenly, a dark room... hands restraining him... sharp pain... and a scream...
"Cairn! Cairn!"
He regained consciousness to find himself on his knees, Aliana bent over him, holding his shoulders with concern. He was gasping for air, sweat dripping from his forehead.
"What happened?" she asked anxiously.
"I saw..." he stammered, trying to process what he had witnessed. "I saw myself. I was... giving a lecture about memories. It felt like I was... a researcher or a scientist."
He stood slowly with Aliana's help, looking again at the place where he had seen the phantom. But it had vanished, replaced by other phantoms unrelated to him.
"This part of the passage is known for showing memories connected to the travelers," Aliana said cautiously. "It might have been a real memory from your past."
[Not just a memory, but the beginning. The moment you created everything... and destroyed everything.]
They continued through the passage, but Cairn grew more unsettled, his eyes darting between the phantoms, searching for more memories related to him. Glimpses of familiar faces appeared and disappeared, fragmented words reached his ears, but nothing was as coherent as the first scene.
After hours of walking, they reached a wider section of the passage, resembling a small cavern, where a spring flowed from a crack in the wall, forming a clear, small pool.
"We'll rest here," Aliana announced, setting her bag on the ground. "The water is safe to drink, and the area is relatively protected."
Cairn sat on a nearby rock, watching the pool, its surface reflecting the blue lights, giving it a magical appearance.
"Do you come here often?" Cairn asked as he accepted the water bottle Aliana handed him.
"Only twice," she replied, sitting close by. "The Remembered rarely leave their zones. The risk is too great."
"And why Eidolith specifically? What makes it so special that you'd risk your life to reach it?"
Aliana pulled an old leather-bound book from her bag, opening it to a page containing an illustration of a strange city, seemingly suspended between sky and earth.
"Eidolith is the only city the Keepers could never control. It exists in the misty region where memories intersect with forgetting. It's said to house the First Memory Library, where the original copies of all memories stolen by the Keepers over the ages are preserved."
[The City of Seven Books. The last bastion of truth.]
"And why do you want to reach it?" Cairn asked, noting the strange passion in her voice.
Aliana hesitated for a moment, as if carefully weighing her words, then said in a quieter tone, "I'm searching for something important. A specific memory that could change everything."
"A memory of what?"
"The memory of the day the Era of Forgetting began. The day the old world shattered, and the cycle of erasure started."
[She knows. She knows more than she's telling you.]
Cairn looked at her intently, trying to read her expression. "And how will you find that specific memory among millions of others?"
Aliana smiled a mysterious smile. "Because it's connected to you. You are the key to finding it."
Before Cairn could question her further, they heard the sound of movement in the tunnel behind them. They quickly turned, Cairn summoning the Memory Blade in his hand, and Aliana drawing a small knife from her belt. Three human figures emerged from the darkness, moving toward them with calculated slowness. They were not Keepers but wore tattered, mismatched clothing, their faces obscured by strange masks crafted from what appeared to be shards of metal and fractured glass.
"Drifters," Aliana whispered. "Don't lower your weapon."
The three figures halted a few meters away before one of them stepped forward, speaking in a hoarse, peculiar voice:
"New travelers to Eidolith. Interesting. Especially since one of you carries the Sword of Memory." He gestured toward Cairn's glowing weapon. "We haven't seen that in a very long time."
"We don't want trouble," Cairn said cautiously, his sword still raised. "We just wish to pass through to Eidolith."
The masked man chuckled, his laughter muffled. "Everyone wants to reach Eidolith. But only a few are deemed worthy to enter."
"We are summoned by the Rememberers," Aliana declared firmly, pulling out a small pendant from her pocket. It bore a strange symbol: an eye within a teardrop.
The three drifters exchanged quick glances before their leader gave a slight bow.
"The Rememberers. That changes things." He removed his mask, revealing a wrinkled face, one eye normal, the other a smooth, clear blue glass. "My name is Thorin, Keeper of the Middle Passage. We will escort you to Eidolith's gate. The path is not safe these days."
"Why?" Aliana asked.
"The Keepers are sending more patrols into the passages. They're searching for something... or someone." His gaze lingered meaningfully on Cairn. "Someone of great importance."
Cairn slowly lowered his sword but did not sheath it entirely. "When will we reach Eidolith?"
"By dawn, if we move now," Thorin replied. "We'll take a shortcut—faster but more dangerous."
"Dangerous how?" Aliana inquired.
Thorin gave a grim smile, revealing metallic teeth. "It cuts through the Zone of Shattered Memories, where nightmares take form, and suppressed memories become reality."
[The Black Glass Zone. A place of death and rebirth. There, you will find your first truth.]
Cairn looked toward Aliana, who hesitated briefly before nodding in agreement. "We'll go with you."
They quickly gathered their belongings and joined the drifters, who began leading them through a narrow side passage. As they walked, Cairn noticed that the ghosts and embodied memories gradually faded away, replaced by a heavy silence and shifting shadows on the walls.
"Memories fear the Black Glass Zone," one of the drifters remarked, as if reading Cairn's thoughts. "Even they know that some things are better left forgotten."
After an hour of walking, they reached a massive stone gate, intricately carved with strange symbols that glowed faintly red. On either side of the gate stood statues of distorted human faces, their eyes closed and mouths open in silent screams.
"The Gate of Traumas," Thorin announced softly. "Prepare yourselves. What lies beyond is not for the faint of heart."
He stood before the gate, raising his right hand, which was encased in a peculiar metallic glove. Placing it on a central symbol etched into the gate, he began muttering in a language Cairn did not understand.
The gate began to glow more intensely, the engraved symbols rotating like the gears of a colossal clock. Slowly, with an ominous groan, it opened to reveal a turbulent red void, swirling like undulating smoke.
"It is time to cross," Thorin said, his gaze locking with Cairn's. "I advise you not to look back, no matter what you hear. Ignore the voices that call your name."
"Voices?" Cairn asked uneasily.
[Your painful memories. They will try to draw you in, to reclaim you.]
"We'll move quickly," Aliana interjected, gripping Cairn's hand tightly. "Together."
They stepped toward the gate, and with a single stride, crossed to the other side.
Cairn felt a jolt course through his body, as though an electric current surged through his veins. When he opened his eyes, he found himself in an entirely new realm.
They were now walking through a wide corridor, its ceiling so high it disappeared into the darkness. The corridor's walls were made of pure black glass—smooth, reflective, and distorted, mirroring their images in eerie, warped forms. The faint red light emanated from the ground itself, which seemed to pulse rhythmically, like a giant heartbeat.
"Do not touch the walls," Thorin warned. "The black glass here... is sensitive. It reacts to negative emotions."
As they moved forward, Cairn began to hear faint sounds—whispers, sobs, muffled screams. They came from everywhere and nowhere, as though the air itself carried them.
"Ignore the voices," whispered the third drifter, a surprisingly soft, feminine voice. "They are just memories trying to escape."
The sounds grew louder as they advanced, until Cairn could make out fragments of words:
"Help me... don't leave me..." "This is all your fault..." "Why did you do this to us...?"
Then, suddenly, amidst the cacophony, he heard his name, clear and unmistakable:
"Cairn... return to your memory..."
He froze for a moment, his heart pounding violently. The voice—female, familiar—felt like it belonged to another time, another life.
"Cairn, don't listen," Aliana urged, shaking his arm firmly. "Keep moving."
[The voices cannot harm you. But stopping will make them stronger.]
They pressed on, Cairn struggling to block out the increasingly insistent voices. On the black glass walls, images and forms began to appear, sharper than those they had seen in the earlier passage.
A man running through a dark forest, pursued by faceless shadows. A child crying before a burning house. A woman sinking slowly into black waters.
"Shocking scenes from stored memories," Thorin explained. "Ignore them. They are not real... not real anymore, at least."
But as they neared the end of the corridor, a scene appeared on the wall that made Cairn stop in his tracks:
A dimly lit room, illuminated by faint blue lights. At its center, a metal chair surrounded by complex devices. On the chair sat a bound man, his head encased in a strange apparatus, screaming silently. Around him stood figures in white uniforms, their faces concealed by masks.
One of them held a small device, moving it closer to the bound man's head. And behind it all, overseeing the scene, stood a tall man whose face was hauntingly familiar to Cairn.
It was his own face.
"No..." Cairn whispered, a cold dread gripping him. "This can't be real."
[This is your truth. The day of the Reversal. The day you created the Forgetting System.]
Cairn lunged toward the wall, his hand reaching out to touch the image, but Aliana grabbed him firmly, pulling him back.
"Don't touch the images!" she shouted. "They will pull you inside!"
The scene continued to play on the wall, like a silent film. The man with Cairn's face stepped forward, took the device, placed it on the bound man's head. A white light flashed... and then, darkness.
"Is that... is that me?" Cairn asked, his voice trembling. "Was I... was I one of them?"
"The black glass deceives," Thorin said quickly. "It shows what we fear, what we dread becoming."
But Cairn saw the glance the drifters exchanged, and the worry in Aliana's eyes. This was no mere illusion—there was truth in that image. "We must keep going," Thorin urged the group. "We're close to the end."
They advanced at a faster pace, passing through increasingly horrifying scenes that grew more vivid and intense. The images seemed to try to escape the walls—hands reaching out, faces pressing against the glass-like surface as if trapped behind it.
After what felt like an eternity of walking through this hell of painful memories, they finally saw a light at the end of the corridor. A pure, white light piercing through the crimson darkness.
"The Gate of Eidolith!" Thorin exclaimed with relief. "We've made it."
They ran toward the light, pursued by the sounds and images, which grew more violent, as if trying to prevent their escape. Screams, pleas, threats.
With one final step, they crossed the white gate and found themselves standing on the edge of a high cliff, overlooking the most enchanting and surreal sight Cairn had ever witnessed in his life:
Before them, suspended amidst a white mist infused with golden light, lay the city of Eidolith—a dreamlike vision made real. Ancient buildings of white and gold stone rose in impossible architectural formations, defying the laws of gravity. Towering spires pierced through layers of mist, seemingly floating without any visible support. Winding bridges connected the structures, some appearing to be made of light itself.
At the heart of the city stood a colossal tower, taller than anything around it, its peak glowing with a pulsating blue light, like the heartbeat of a cosmic entity.
"The Tower of Memory," whispered Aliana, her golden eyes reflecting the city's glow. "The First Library of Memories."
Cairn stood in stunned silence, unable to speak. The city was a place beyond worlds, both real and fantastical. And as he stood there, he felt something strange stir within him—a deep sense of familiarity, as if he were returning to a forgotten home.
[Our home. Our city. Before the darkness awoke, before the forgetting began. This is the world we once protected.]
"Have I been here before?" Cairn asked the shadow within him, his whisper just loud enough for the others to hear.
"Yes, you have," Thorin answered, surprising Cairn. "The eternal shadow you carry within you was one of Eidolith's founders, before it was exiled."
"How do you know about the shadow?" Cairn asked cautiously.
"Everyone in Eidolith can see ghosts and shadows," replied the masked woman. "Your shadow is different... ancient... powerful."
She removed her mask, revealing a youthful, beautiful face, though the right side was covered by a material resembling blue glass, etched with intricate metallic patterns. "My name is Neela, servant of the Tower of Memory. We have awaited your return for a long time."
"My return?" Cairn repeated.
[Do not trust her. Do not trust anyone in Eidolith. The city appears as it was, but it has changed.]
"There will be time for answers later," Thorin interrupted. "For now, we must enter before the Watchers notice us."
They began descending a stone path leading to a long, suspended bridge that connected the cliff to the floating city. The bridge was made of a crystalline material, glowing faintly blue with each step.
"The bridge responds to memories," Thorin explained. "The stronger your memories, the more stable the bridge becomes."
They crossed cautiously. Cairn felt his steps falter at times, perhaps because he had no memories of his own for the bridge to read. But Aliana, who held his hand, walked with unwavering confidence, as though she had crossed this bridge countless times before.
As they approached the city, Cairn could make out more details: tall, stained-glass windows reflecting colors beyond description, intricate carvings on the walls that seemed alive, shifting and changing. Most astonishing of all were the people moving within and around the city.
Some appeared entirely human, dressed in clothing from various eras. Others, like Thorin and Neela, bore strange alterations: metallic limbs, crystalline eyes, parts of their bodies glowing or formed of pure light.
"Who are these people?" Cairn asked as they neared the city's main gate.
"The Rememberers," Aliana replied. "Remnants of survivors from various attempts at erasure. Some have lived for centuries, holding onto their memories of the world before the forgetting."
They reached the city gate, a grand archway of white stone inscribed with glowing golden symbols in an unfamiliar language. On either side of the gate stood two guards, clad in lightweight silver armor, holding spears tipped with a blue glow similar to the Blade of Memory.
At the sight of the group, the guards bowed with evident respect—not to Thorin or Neela, but to Cairn himself.
"The bearer of the shadow has returned," one of the guards announced in a deep voice. "The Council must be informed."
"We will take him to the tower directly," Neela said. "Twilight is approaching."
They passed through the gate, entering the city's inner streets. The city buzzed with life and activity: open markets, shops selling strange items like glowing orbs containing shimmering memories, or bottles of colored liquids that shifted and transformed. People spoke in various languages, some of which Cairn had never heard before.
But what struck him most was the reaction of the city's inhabitants to his presence. They stopped whatever they were doing, staring at him with a mix of awe, fear, and hope. Some bowed, others whispered among themselves, and a few hurried away.
"Why are they looking at me like that?" Cairn whispered to Aliana.
"You carry the eternal shadow," she replied in a low voice. "To them, you are either their savior... or a new executioner."
Thorin and Neela led them through the winding streets, heading toward the central tower. The closer they came, the more Cairn felt a strange mix of tension and familiarity. Something about the tower called to him, like a powerful magnet pulling not his body, but his very soul.
[The tower. The seven books. The first truth. Everything began here, and everything will end here.]
At the base of the tower was a vast plaza, paved with alternating black and white stones forming a complex pattern resembling an open eye. At the plaza's center stood a massive blue crystal statue depicting a man standing tall, arms outstretched, with a large shadowy figure with wings looming behind him.
Cairn stopped in front of the statue, speechless. The man's face was unmistakably familiar: it was his own.
"What is this?" he asked, his voice strained.
"The First Keeper," Thorin answered with reverence. "The founder of Eidolith, the first to merge with the eternal shadow to protect memories from erasure."
"No..." Cairn shook his head in confusion. "That... that's my face."
"Yes," Neela interjected. "And it is also the face of every bearer who came after him. The face the shadow always chooses for its host."
"You are not the first," Thorin added. "And you will not be the last."
Cairn felt dizzy, as though the world were spinning around him. All the new information, the deepening mysteries—it was too much.
[They only know half the truth. The face is the same because you are not just any bearer. You are the origin, the return... you are me, and I am you.]
"I need... I need to sit down."
Aliana quickly moved to support him before he could collapse. Neela gestured toward a nearby stone bench, where they gently helped him sit. "For this reason, we must go to the tower first," said Nila. "There, you can at least recover part of your memory. The exhaustion you're feeling, the confusion, all of it are symptoms of being disconnected from your true identity."
Kairen looked up at the towering structure, the blue light pulsating from its peak like a nearby star.
"I don't know if I'm ready to know the truth," he whispered.
"No one is ever ready," Aliana replied gently, her hand pressing his in encouragement. "But we didn't come all this way to turn back now."
Kairen rose slowly, determined to move forward. The group advanced toward the entrance of the tower, a large door made of white metal adorned with intricate engravings, appearing as though it belonged to a futuristic era yet to come.
"Welcome to the Tower of Memory," said Thorin as he pushed the door open. "Welcome to the truth."
At the threshold of the tower, Kairen glanced back for a moment, taking in the dazzling city below, surrounded by a golden mist like a magical halo. When he turned forward again, he saw a pair of blue eyes waiting for him inside—eyes belonging to an elderly woman dressed in a long white robe, holding a staff made of white wood, its head crowned with a blue crystal that emitted a faint glow.
"Bearer of the Shadow," she said in a deep, wise voice that carried the weight of centuries of knowledge. "I have waited for you for a long time."
"Who are you?" Kairen asked.
The woman smiled a peculiar smile, one that carried profound sorrow and fragile hope all at once.
"I am Serena, Keeper of the Records. The last of the living who witnessed the day the forgetting began." She paused, her eyes examining his face intently. "And the day you created this broken world."