I awoke inside a place I knew well. Floating freely inside the fog, I felt safe and warm.

How did I get here? Did something happen?

It took me a moment to remember how I’d ended up there, but the memories quickly returned, and I recalled the events from before I went to sleep.

Right, I was asked to go here. I’m supposed to wait for Amelie to come find me. I hope she doesn’t get lost. There’s a lot of scary places here. You have to stay away from where the fog is densest or you’ll end up seeing the bad things… but I guess that’s why we’re here though. I have to show her the bad things.

I was suddenly angry. Why did I have to take her to see the bad things? Wouldn’t it be better if we left it alone? My safe place was going to be defiled. If they took this away from me, I would have nowhere left to go.

I decided I should hide where they couldn’t find me. I had to protect myself. They tricked me.

“Falyn?!”

I heard a voice calling me from off in the distance. Where was I again?

Oh, I’m in the fog… Who would come looking for me here? Is it time to wake up?

“Falyn?” the voice called again, “Please answer me! I think I’m lost!”

Alarm bells rang in my head as I realized someone was in my space, but then the memories returned to me once again. I wasn’t angry anymore. I only got angry because I was being selfish.

“Amelie!” I called out. I grabbed at my throat in shock. My voice?! After I thought about it for a moment, it made sense. This was the place I was keeping it after all. I’d just never tried to use it here before.

“I’m over here!” I called to her again after a moment. I felt a strange feeling in my stomach as I used my voice. It was all happening inside my subconscious, but it felt so real that I almost believed it.

From somewhere deeper in the fog, Amelie’s figure emerged. As she realized she had found me, her body almost instantly relaxed. She gave me a relieved smile and said, “I’m so glad I found you! I was so worrie–”

She stopped mid word and stared at me for a moment.

“Falyn!” she exclaimed as if she’d just realized something, “Did you…? You called out to me didn’t you?”

“I was surprised too,” I responded, not quite knowing how to explain. “But it makes sense if you think about it? I can talk because you’re technically listening to my thoughts. I’m not using my voice, really.”

You can hear me when I speak to you without using words too, can’t you?

“I-I can…” Amelie looked startled. “How did you do that?”

“I didn’t do anything, at least not actively,” I answered honestly, “This is my space. My safe place. I go here when I need to get away. But, I think the space follows the rules I create before I even know I’m creating them. I’ve never really thought about it before. I don’t come here to think.”

“But the fog we were supposed to go to should be one controlled by the caster,” she said in a hesitant voice, “How are you the one in control?”

“Maybe he made a mistake? Either way, he didn’t send us into a space he created, he sent us to space that already exists in me. I’d never enter a space controlled by someone else. I’m doing my best to trust you people but there’s limits to that trust.” I was surprised at how cold my voice sounded when I spoke to her. I walked past her, towards where she had just emerged from. I stopped and spoke to her without turning back, “This way.”

The fog grew so thick we couldn’t even see our hands and then we entered a long hallway, a path through the fog, filled with doors. I turned back to check and Amelie was still behind me.

“Which door do we go through?” she asked me, looking wary of the long hallway and all the closed doors, one after another, seeming to stretch into infinity.

I shrugged. “Whichever door you want. This is my hall of memories. Anything I don’t want to remember is here, in the deepest depths of the fog. Some of the doors here contain happy memories that simply remind me of what I’ve lost, but others are memories I keep shrouded so they can’t hurt me. I’ve never dared open a single door.”

“Then let’s try the first one, shall we?” Amelie asked as she picked the first door on the right and bravely opened it.

“Mama, is dinner ready yet?” I asked from my position at our small table in the kitchen. I think I was seven years old.

“Soon, baby, soon. You’re mama had to work later today so dinner is a little later than usual.” My mom was trying to quickly finish cooking dinner, probably as hungry as I was, but not complaining about it. She never complained about the hardships she endured for me.

“You have to work hard everyday. It’s not fair. All the other kids have a dad to do the working. Why don’t I have a dad?”

I closed the door to that memory, wanting to avoid seeing my mom’s stricken face that I had no way of understanding when I was younger. It wasn’t until I was many years older that I understood how hard that question must have been for her.

We turned around and opened the first door on the left.

“You can’t hide forever. I’m gonna find you and I’m gonna make you scream like your mommy did.”

Flattened and hiding under a sofa in the library, I tried desperately not to breathe. Don’t find me, don’t find me, don’t find me, I desperately willed to the universe as the man’s footsteps drew closer to me.

“You should just come out. If you come out now, we can do it nice and gentle. If I have to keep looking for you, I’ll make sure you bleed!”

I slammed the door shut as fast as I could, knowing too well what would come next. At fifteen, I was too tall to hide under the couch and Albrecht had seen my feet sticking out from the start. He’d let me have a glimmer of hope that I might be safe, just so he could enjoy the moment when that hope was destroyed and I fell into despair.

After he’d flipped the couch over, he dragged me away and whipped me mercilessly. He made sure I bled that day. But it would have been the same result if I’d revealed myself. Probably worse, because then I’d have been offering it.

We opened the second door on the left.

“Ah! How’d you get so fast?!”

I fell to the ground with a not so small lion cub on top of me. He’d grown to the point that we were about the same height when we were on the ground. I was somewhere in my twelfth year. I laughed and flipped him, pinning him.

“Grrrroww,” the lion cub growled as his form of protest.

We rolled and wrestled making a huge ruckus. Soon enough, I heard his father calling us, saying dinner was ready.

“Race you back?” I asked, still full of energy despite playing all afternoon.

I watched that memory for a long while, a wistful smile crossing my lips. This was one of the happy memories I’d put away. It was easier to forget than mourn what was already gone. I felt like this memory was safe now. When I closed the door, the door disappeared from sight. I allowed myself to consciously remember it again.

We turned around again and opened the second door on the right.

Slap! Slap!

“Pathetic.” Slap! “Worthless.” Slap! “Useless.” Slap!

I fell to the floor of my father’s study. The last blow had caused stars to explode across my vision. I tried to curl up in a ball to protect myself from the anticipated incoming kick. Instead he grabbed me by my collar and forced me to my feet. The only thing that kept me standing was the grip he had on my shirt, that pulled the neck tight enough that I couldn’t breathe.

Stolen story; please report.

Slap! Slap! He held me in the air so I couldn’t fall down and continued battering my face. It was sometime during my first few weeks in his house.

“Speak, you worthless bastard! I know you’re faking this!” Slap! Blood spattered on his shirt from that final hit. He released my collar, allowing me to breathe, but landed the first kick as I was still trying to get air into my lungs. The wind was knocked out of me, leaving me unable to do anything as he rained blow after blow on my helpless form.

I slammed the door shut. I didn’t need to see anymore. I didn’t want to see what was on the other side of another door. Why do this? Why go through it all? I just needed to find the right door. I closed my eyes for a moment and suddenly the hall was gone, replaced by a single door that appeared right in front of us. Amelie gasped at the sudden change in scenery.

“Is… is this the right door?” she asked timidly. I glanced back at her and saw pity and horror written all over her face. But in this space, I didn’t need to feel guilty or bad about anything, so I didn’t worry too much about her reaction. She came here. She wanted to see this.

“I didn’t want to see anymore,” I replied flatly, “When facing more doors became more of a nightmare than the nightmare, I was able to find it."

We opened the final door.

I was walking down a forest path, my shirt wet from stopping at a nearby stream. The path led to my childhood home and my mother who was waiting for me to come home. I'd made three copper coins that day and I'd raced home, excited to tell her about it.

I didn't see them on the day it happened, but now I could see them in the trees. Soldiers keeping watch, hidden by bushes and tree trunks, sending word back to Tarlon that I'd been sighted. I'd felt their eyes on me that day, but my mind hadn't believed they were really there, despite their forms being somewhat visible in the twilight.

"I was coming home from working at the stables. They were already there waiting for me."

As I reached the end of the path and exited the trees, there were horses waiting in our open front yard.

"They had my mother long before I came home. They had orders to kill her as painfully as possible."

My small form crept towards the open door of the house, trying to be stealthy and silent.

"Punishment for the sin of running away from my father. Retribution for taking his son."

A full grown man stalked my small figure from behind, getting closer and closer as I crept towards the door.

"They raped and tortured her from dusk until dawn."

As soon as I was close enough to almost see inside the door, someone grabbed me from behind, covering my mouth, and pushing me inside.

“Well would you look at what I found skulking about,” my captor called out, “I’ve got the kid. We don’t need this bitch to talk anymore.”

"They gained nothing from what they did to her. To them, it was just a bit of fun. They had their orders and they got off her agony." We remained in the front yard. I could hear my mother's screams echoing out into the night. I didn't need to go in there and see it first hand. Once was enough to fuel my nightmares for a lifetime.

"I only saw flashes of it before, so I couldn't be sure," Amelie whispered, breaking her long silence. She looked faint. "It was your father's men, wasn't it?"

When I went to answer her, I was surprised to discover that my voice had disappeared. I grabbed at my throat, struggling to try to force a sound out. No! Why? Why did it go away?

"It's okay Falyn, just nod if it was. It's okay if you can't say it."

I nodded frantically, desperate to finally tell someone what he'd done. Tears streamed down my face freely. It's okay. Nothing here is real. It's okay to cry here. I tried to assure myself but I couldn't let go of the knowledge that I'd already let a tear escape the night before. I'm not ready for this. I'm not ready to deal with this.

"You know I need to see it to confirm, don't you?" she asked me in a small voice.

I nodded, then turned my back and walked toward the forest. She could look at it alone. There was magic in place to protect her mind from what she'd see. I had no such assurances. I heard her footsteps walking away from me in the direction of the house.

I stared at the forest path, focusing on the darkness within, blocking out everything else. I'd done my part. I just wanted to leave.

"Falyn…"

Eventually I heard a voice off in the distance.

"It's time to wake up Falyn…"

Amelie must have seen enough and gone back.

"When I count to three, you will wake up. You will only remember what your mind is prepared to remember, nothing more."

That's good. I only wanted the memory of Andrian.

"One… two… three."

I awoke on the daybed feeling like I’d had a peaceful nap. My body and mind felt lighter than before. I opened my eyes and saw Andrian’s face close to mine, watching me carefully.

“Hey sleepy head,” he said to me with a gentle smile, “It took you a while to wake up. How are you feeling?”

I gave him a smile and a nod. Looking around, I could see that everyone had returned to the room while I was out. I could see Lord Erris at the table discussing something with Shidah, the First Prince and Amelie were talking in the corner, and Rastari and Coraggio were seated in the two armchairs next to where I lay. Andrian helped me to sit up. Did it work? I don’t remember what happened. The only thing I recall is a memory of playing with Andrian as a child. I hope that’s not the only thing I showed her.

Noticing I was awake, the First Prince walked over to be on the daybed. His face looked grim. I hoped he wasn’t angry at me.

“How do you feel? Are you okay?” he asked me without any preamble.

I nodded that I was okay and looked at him quizzically. Seeming to understand my unspoken question, he said, “It was a success. Amie was able to enter your memories and find out what we needed to know.”

“Oh! Is he awake?” I heard Lord Erris suddenly ask from the table. He got up from his chair and came over to take a look at me. He studied me in detail for a few moments before beginning to question me. “Do you remember anything?”

I shook my head, no. It felt like I’d fallen asleep and had a pleasant dream.

"And how about your mind? Do you feel any different?" After confirming I felt no different than before, he sighed, "I'd hoped there might be a therapeutic effect as well."

"Not after only one session," Shidah answered him, "Two or three sessions per week for at least three moon cycles is a normal treatment. What we did today was an investigation, not healing. I believe I already told you that, Erris."

"Well it didn't hurt to ask," Lord Erris responded, pouting like a child, despite his advanced years. "You also told me you'd never seen an extra person enter the patient's mind. It could have made a difference."

"Where I agree using empaths and telepaths as spirit guides could revolutionize the process, you still can't make progress in a single session," Shida explained, sounding frustrated by the old man.

I thought Lord Erris was amazing just for knowing magic... But it seems that magic never went away on their side of the borderland, the way it did here, and Lord Erris isn't impressive at all to the beastmen.

“But what about the boy’s magic?” Lord Erris suddenly asked, turning to look at me again.

My magic? I don’t have any of that! Lord Erris looked amused at my perplexed expression. He went to continue, but was interrupted by Amelie, who had remained quiet up until now.

“Falyn,” she said, “When we were under hypnosis, we were supposed to be in a space controlled by Lord Erris’ magic. But wherever we were, it was a place where you were in control, not Lord Erris.”

I nodded, not fully understanding her meaning. A place where I was in control? As I contemplated, Amelie continued.

“When I entered, I found myself alone in a vast fog. It actually took me a long time to find you. When I finally did, you seemed to be completely in control of the space. You took me to a place deep in the fog, some sort of hall of memories… and you were able to speak when we were in there. Actually, I found you because you called out to me.” She paused for a moment to consider me.

I was dumbfounded by what she was telling me, yet at the same time it made sense. I’d somehow taken her into the fog. That was certainly a space controlled by me, not Lord Erris. But how was that even possible? That place had nothing to do with magic. Amelie shouldn’t have been able to get in there. But if I spoke to her, that’s the only place we could have been.

“It’s our theory that you created a magic space in your mind to protect yourself using your innate abilities,” Lord Erris said after a moment of silence. “You weren’t always mute, correct?”

He looked to me for confirmation, and I nodded to his question. I realized it was possible that only the four generals from the Beastlands had been aware I wasn’t always like this. It also occurred to me that Andrian hadn’t mentioned my condition at all. Was it out of consideration? Or maybe I’ve overestimated myself and I’m not important enough to him for him to bother asking… No, I can’t think like that. He’s been considerate in every other way, so that must be why. I shouldn’t start doubting him for no reason.

Unaware of my inner struggle, Lord Erris continued, “I believe somehow your voice is connected to that place you created. Perhaps losing your voice was a condition of the spell that created it, perhaps it's simply the place your voice went. You are physically capable of speech, yes?"

I didn't know how to answer that. No, I didn't want to answer that. He wouldn't understand. Plus, I wasn't really sure anymore. I shrugged noncommittally and left it at that.

"Oh come on! How can you not–"

"That's enough," the First Prince interrupted. "That's none of our concern. There is only one question he needs to answer. Amelie saw everything, but I still need you to confirm it. Officially, as your Crown Prince and future King, I ask now you, was your father, Duke of Ramport, the one who ordered your mother’s death, and was it the Duke’s knights who committed the act?"

My palms were clammy and my throat felt dry. I knew that this question would come. The sorrow, fear, and loathing that had built up inside me left me shaking, but I met the First Prince’s eyes and nodded my affirmation. It was him. It was all his fault. My father, the Duke. He was the one.