It takes an hour before the meeting is over, neither Blomst nor Sun are present and it’s Nine who approaches us from the trail next to the stone wall. He has the same expressionless face as always. Cerberus looks behind him, like he’s expecting to see First on the trail, but Nine is alone.
“Where is Sun?” I ask when he reaches the gazebo.
“She’s preoccupied. She asked me to show you the Hall of Memories instead.”
“What happened?”
“I didn’t ask.” He shrugs slightly and thereafter looks at Cerberus. “First also asked you to see him.”
Cerberus rises from the bench and straightens the white shirt. He seems tenser since Nine mentioned First. He said that he wasn’t fond of the man, but I must have not realized how much he disliked First until I saw the kind-hearted face turn into something tense and bitter.
“Where is he?”
“First said something about a mirror room.”
Cerberus give me an apologetic smile. “Remember what we spoke of. Tonight.”
I give him a short nod. Cerberus walks down the stairs and continues down the trail.
“The Hall of Memories are closed at evenings and nights when the theater is open for all. We still have a few hours left if you’d want me to show it,” Nine says.
“Alright then, I might as well get it over with.”
Nine mumbles something incomprehensible and we follow the trail through the greenery and the tall trees that stand in a line behind the stone wall. They’re not spruces like the ones in the dark forest, these looks more like big oaks with leaves hanging down over us.
“When do you think Sun is done?” I ask when the silence becomes too intrusive.
Nine continues to walk down the trail, for a while I think he’s ignoring me until he finally answers, “I don’t know. She asked me to show you to the doorways outside of the city if you cannot find your way out yourself.”
Not anytime soon then.
We find our way out of the trail with the luminous lanterns, and continue onwards until we reach the resting place with the white orchids. If it wasn’t for the theater, I would have asked Nine to stay here for a while, even if the silence that hangs around him is unpleasant. The silence between me and Cerberus had been uncomfortable, yet it had still been more pleasant than this. How could I feel more comfortable with whatever Cerberus is over a human being? Yet Nine doesn’t seem to care for the silence, he seems to be comfortable in it.
To my surprise there’s a gate waiting on the wall once we reach the beginning. It’s not the same that Deer had created. This one is an almost transparent gate of black steel.
Nine stops in front of the gate. “Before we go in, I need to warn you.”
This cannot be good.
“For what?”
I can feel it seeping out of the door; I swallow and try to pretend I don’t notice the nausea that climbs up my throat.
“I’m sure you’ve noticed how the Realm uses you, how it creates things out of your own memories and your inner being?”
I shake my head. I’ve only noticed the rooms, but I thought someone had crafted it for me, not the Realm of the Dead itself.
“No? The way you stared at the resting place with the white orchids made me think you had noticed it.”
“What do you mean?”
”All resting places in this garden is created by those who are present in the Citadel. The gazebo area is a mix between Cerberus and Vrana’s resting place, and the rose bushes are Liria’s. I’ve never seen the one with the orchids before, and the way you stared at them, it’s likely yours.”
I don’t know what to say. I had unknowingly created a resting place of white orchids – a flower I associate with my father’s death. I don’t want to think of what might hide further in.
“The corridor also changes by the one who creates it,” he says.
“So, what awaits on the other side?”
“Nothing good, just forgotten pain. Remember to keep going. Don’t get stuck,” he says and opens the door.
The door closes by itself when we step into the total darkness. I take a deep breath and my entire chest is filled by a heavy and sorrowful apathy.
It feels like I’m treading through deep mud in the pitch-black corridor, and for each step I take it becomes longer. I can see it in the end of the corridor – the white gate. It’s shining ever so slightly. But it’s like a lighthouse leading me out of this suffocating, narrow space.
And I want to scream when I see the light go out. I want to sit down and let the darkness and the heavy air pull me through the floor.
“Move,” Nine mumbles; I barely recognize his voice.
I push through the mud that gets thicker the closer I am to the gate. It burns in my chest, throat, and eyes.
Just a little longer.
He reaches for the doorknob, his fingers touch the surface and leaves black marks, like he has dipped his hand in oil. He firmly grips the doorknob and turns it, light pours into the corridor and we stumble out in a room I’ve never seen before.
Nine has pressed his hands against his pale face. There’s no sign of the color I had seen on his fingers, how they had soiled what he touched. He sits down at the floor with his elbows pushed against his knees, his hands shake violently.
“What the hell was that?” I breathe.
“I don’t know how to answer that,” he says.
“The truth would be appropriate.”
It takes a while before he answers, “nightmares… from when I was alive. I think.”
“I didn’t think you could remember things from your life.”
I take a deep breath when the thoughts of the hopelessness I felt forces itself back to my mind. I have seen the open wounds on his arms, how deep they are.
He gets up from the ground. “I cannot. I dream about the emotions. Those I cannot forget it seems, maybe that’s another punishment for taking destiny in my own hands.”
He sounds bitter. I cannot blame him for it. Nine’s eyes are glossy and slightly wet. I cannot think of anything appropriate to say after what he told me, so I put my arms around myself like I was cold and focus on the room in front of us. We’re in a hall of large ice-like crystals, and they’re growing out of the floor, ceiling, and walls.
“We need to get out of here. Sooner rather than later,” Nine says and we head towards the large crystals surrounding most of the hall.
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It seems to be the only way out, most sides are covered in them, some growing out of each other, others grow far enough that they touch the ceiling. It would be impossible to climb. Our only way out of here is if we can find a way through the crystals on the floor. A medium-sized path leads into what I could only guess what would be a labyrinth of crystals.
When we walk by them, I can see our reflection. But they’re wrong. They’re not us. At least not the person we are today – not the one that others see. Mine is the dead body Emma held in her embrace. The brown hair is stuck to the blood covering my face, it glimmers from the pieces of glass in my hair. I cannot stop staring at the open gash on my throat where blood is pulsating out, it runs down my clothes until it drips down and colors the white floor.
The eyes are exhausted and filled with apathy. I remember what I and Emma had fought about that day. How angry I’d been that I had to be the one to take care of her, that she wasn’t trying. The truth was more complicated. At that time, I didn’t understand mine nor Emma’s feelings. Not completely.
I look at Nine’s reflection. I didn’t think his eyes could seem more apathetic, and I’m forced to take a deep breath and relax my jaw to keep the tears from falling. The open wounds on his arms aren’t as naked as before, blood flood down his arms and continues down his hands and fingers.
I force myself to look at my reflection again.
“What is this?” I ask; it sounds like my voice will collapse on itself.
The reflection’s mouth moves as I speak. It has to be someone else that is standing in front of me, that cannot be me.
“Our death,” Nine says and his voice sounds as steady as before. “I’ve heard that this hall exists in the Citadel. But I’ve never been here before.”
“Is it dangerous?”
For a brief moment, it appears like the reflection is grinning in a repulsive way at my question.
It takes some time for him to answer. “I don’t know. There are few who wants – or are allowed – to visit this hall. I’ve heard stories, but it’s hard to know what’s true.”
“And why did we end up here? It seems to me like you’re saying this place is forbidden to us.”
“It is forbidden,” he says, “and I don’t know how we ended up here.”
“Not a single theory?”
His eyebrows move inward slightly. “When I reached for the gate, I wanted out of there. I didn't think about where I wanted to go. It could be that the corridor brought us here because I didn't have a clear place in mind.”
His reflection grins and its teeth are colored red.
Why did this place even exist in the Citadel? It made no sense. How come we ended up here when it likely wasn’t even allowed?
“So… What’s the plan? How do we get out of here?”
Nine tenses his jaw and looks straight at me, it’s obvious he has to force himself to not look at the reflection.
“Avoid looking at them, and make sure to not touch the crystals.”
I can see them move in the corner of my eye.
“Okay,” I whisper, ”and the getting out part? How do we deal with that?”
“There has to be a way out of here. Somehow. I don’t think we can go back the way we came from.”
He lowers his eyes, and focuses on the ground, and continues on the path between the crystals. I do the same. I cannot stop thinking of the blood that covered both mine and Nine’s reflection.
We don’t speak, and I’m not sure if Nine leads us further in or out of the labyrinth of crystals. Something he might not be aware of himself.
“Touch me.”
I stop dead in my tracks as I hear my own voice echo throughout the hall, yet it doesn’t sound quite like me. Nine turns around and stares at me like he just realized something.
“What did you say?”
I cannot answer before my voice echoes over the hall once again, “touch us.”
When he realizes that my lips aren’t moving with the words, he angles his face down again, and slowly moves across the glistening floor. Out of the corner of my eye I can see them following us with quick and agile movements.
“Puuduta meid,” Nine says in a language I cannot understand.
It makes me think of Finnish, but I don’t think it’s the same language. The voice has the same resonance as the former one.
“Do not listen to it. Don’t touch the crystals.”
I try to not think of the flooding blood, or how my fingers are itching to touch the crystals, to put my entire palm against them, just a few seconds to remove the longing that have dug itself deeply into my fingertips.
“Sinu nimi on Henri Kask. Ma võin sulle rohkem rääkida. Puuduta mind.”
Nine stops and clenches his fist. Whatever it had said, it touched a nerve.
“Nine?” I ask, sounding just as pitiful as I feel.
He relaxes his fists. ”We need to get out of here.”
He moves forward with his head lowered.
“Jonna Bäck,” my voice speaks. “See? I gave you your last name back. The one you have forgotten. The one they stole from you.”
My entire body tenses up. It sounds alive and all-knowing; I cannot stop myself from settling into this thirst for knowledge. I quietly mumble the words Nine told me. That I cannot listen to them. Not touch them.
“Isn’t it unfair?”
“Kas pole mitte ebaaus?”
“They refuse to give you the rest you deserve, they put you to work where you’ll reap your own people’s soul for centuries. They steal your names, your memories. Your right to live. It’s not fair.”
We turn to the side and are met by crystals that sit uncomfortably close to each other.
“Is freedom too much to ask for?”
“Is there no other way through?” I ask and watch the narrow spaces between the crystals, the reflections smile so largely it almost looks comical.
“I haven’t seen another one. Nor do we have time to search. We have to get out. I can feel it in my mind.”
”Is your identity too much to ask for?” my voice questions.
Nine takes a few steps forward and studies the crystals. I’m not sure how we’ll get past it without touching them. He takes a deep breath and continues forward.
“Be careful,” I say.
He gives me a slight glance and a short nod before he carefully places one of his foot in the space between the crystals, the reflection moves with him with the unpleasant, bloody grin.
“They take so much from you and demand even more.”
Nine continues in between the crystals with his entire body, for a brief moment it looks like his back will touch one of the crystals. He’s able to just barely exit the tight space without touching anything.
He turns around and gives me a nod, a signal that tells me it’s my turn.
“Do you not understand that they are using you? To them you’re nothing else but cattle. Do you not deserve to know who you have been?”
I take a few steps forward. There has to be an easier way to get through than this all too dangerous, tight space. I look up at Nine, with my face likely covered in uncertainty.
“Take it slow and careful,” he says.
“I’ll try.”
I begin like Nine had done, with one foot between the crystals, then carefully I continue with the rest of my body. I have to lean forward to make sure the crystals behind me won’t touch my back.
“Don’t you have the right to keep your identity? Are you really Orchid, or are you Jonna?”
I carefully make my way through the narrow space; I have to angle my foot so it doesn’t touch the small crystals that stick out from the floor.
“You’ll forget who you are, Jonna. Just like Nine. Just like Clover.”
Something enters my mind; it feels like a cat scratching a door. Let me in, says a voice in the depths of myself. It has broken the first barrier, but it hasn’t gotten far enough to make me do what it wants.
Let me in and everything you desire will be within reach.
I take another step; a few more and I’ll be out.
“I can help you, Jonna. I know how you can remember again. How you can remember your sister. Your father. All you need to do is lean on me.”
Nine holds out his hand towards me.
“I can make you remember. You’ll never have to be scared of losing everything. I’m here to help you.”
I hesitate and look up at the reflection, the anger and apathy I had seen is no longer there. There’s a calmness over the face, and a beautiful peaceful smile is upon its lips.
“You’ll never forget.”
“Orchid,” Nine warns me; he is still holding out his hand. “Whatever it is promising you, know that it’s lying. It won’t give you anything. Don’t trust it.”
“He lies. He wants to be here; the deep wounds are the evidence. He brought himself here, defied destiny. Who’d want to remember a life that was so cruel that they ended it? I have nothing to offer him. But you, Jonna. I can give you so much if you just let me touch you.”
The scratching in my mind feels like a gentle caress.
You can trust me.
I turn my head towards the reflection in the crystal, the smile becomes more beautiful.
“Orchid!” Nine shouts. “Whatever the hell this is, they locked it inside the Citadel to make sure soul wanderers had no way of accessing it. If they let the librarians roam the halls in the library… do you realize what you’re dealing with?!”
I move my head; the reflection does the same but with the warm and peaceful smile on its lips.
“Shut it out!”
I blink a few times and look down at the gash on my throat where the blood pumps out, how it has almost fully dyed my yellow sweater into a dark red.
“Trust me,” it says; this time it sounds more desperate.
I hold out my hand towards Nine.
“No! I can help you!” It roars, making my voice sound more twisted and disturbed. Like I just heard a part of its true self.
Nine grabs my hand and quickly pulls me out of the narrow space. My hip moves swiftly against one of the crystals. I can feel it, if only for a second or two. The pain from my death, how my throat is cut open. I also receive an image in my mind. A hand wrinkled by old age, reaching for me with its long fingers, and touching the end of my sweater. It wore a strange and complex ring with a symbol I’ve never seen before.
Both I and Nine lands on the floor with a loud thud. I quickly get up and stare at the crystals. The image of the old hand reaching for me won’t leave my mind.
“Are you alright?”
I turn around to see Nine with his hands on his knees as he stands up from the floor.
“I… Yeah. Yeah, I’m alright.”
I’m not sure I even believe myself, and by the look Nine gives me, I don’t think he does either.
“I found the way out,” Nine says.
He seems to be right, on this side of the hall there’s very few of the crystals, and there’s a large gate behind us, further down the wall. When paying attention, I notice the voice has gone fully silent. Either when Nine pulled me out of the narrow space, or after it almost touched me. The thought of what would have happened if it had actually laid its old, wrinkly hand on me is a worrying one.