The sky is no longer blue like it was when we arrived in Arkaros. Now it's covered in a mix of pink and orange clouds. Nine had told me it would take a few minutes to go from the Citadel to the Hall of Memories, but that we would be in time before the theater started and the hall closed for the night.

I haven't let go of the thought of what happened in the crystal hall, the image of the old hand is still fresh in my mind.

"I touched the crystals when you pulled me out."

Nine has gone back to his silent self and hasn't said much unless I asked direct questions, and then I was usually met with short sentences as answers, sometimes a single word or two.

"What happened?"

It was the first time he asked a question since we left the Citadel.

"I felt the pain of my death."

I felt how the glass cut into my throat. The words force itself into my mind.

"I saw a hand too," I say when I cannot get rid of the image of the bloody gash in my mind. "Not physical... in my mind. It was old and wore a ring with a symbol. You said that you had heard stories of the hall, did any of them mention this?"

He continues down the street without looking at me. "No."

"What were the rumors and stories you did hear then?"

"The most common was that the hall was a prison for the Guardians old enemies. When they couldn't be faded, they locked them into one of the Citadel's halls. A single touch is supposed to make us disappear. If what you're telling me is true, then you're still standing here after it touched you. It's likely more myth than truth."

I doubt it. There had to be some truth to the legend. I had heard the hatred in the voices, it had forced its emotions upon me. If the guardians had imprisoned an enemy inside of crystals it was obvious that they would carry an unbelievable hatred. It had spoken of peace and for a few seconds I feel sorry for it. But it is imprisoned there for a reason, and who knows what would have happened if it did grab me.

"What did it say to you?" I ask.

"It told me to touch it."

"Just that?"

He shakes his head. "It... It spoke in my head. Once it had entered it was like it never shut up."

I want to ask what it said in his mind, but I shouldn't dig any deeper. Not after how unpleasant and disturbing his corridor had been.

We turn to a broader street; it leads to a big building. I don't have to ask Nine, I know what lays in front of us is the Hall of Memories. It's gigantic, almost the size of the Citadel fortress. It has the same white walls as the rest of the buildings in the skyborn city. Two large towers reach high above the wall.

The Hall of Memories has two stairs – in the shape of a half circle – that each leads to a pale blue door. One for creatures and another for soul wanderers.

Nine leads me up to one and doesn't pay attention to the creatures on the other stairs. Most of them are of a pale, white color like the rest of the city. Some of the creatures stand out from the line. I imagine they're from other worlds visiting the capital of the Realm of the Dead.

Our pale blue door opens by an elderly creature that looks nearly human. She's short, would be slightly taller if it wasn't for her humped back. She has a large eye in the middle of her face, with a small round nose, and thin, chapped lips.

She waves us inside with a weathered hand, it makes me think of the image of that thing.

She points with one of her abnormally long fingers at the black stairs behind her, it seems to lead up into one of the towers."Up the stairs, boy."

He gives the old lady a head gesture.

"It will look different each time you come here," he says and walks up the black, gleaming spiral stairs, that follow the shape of the tower. "It never looks the same. Follow the chatelaine directions and you'll always find your way."

"Is she a creature? Like the ones that live in the worlds?"

Large portraits of women hang on the wall as we climb the long stairway. They're dressed in clothes from different eras and cultures. All of them carries the same blank expression, except the eyes that are too intensive for my liking. It feels like they're staring right at us. Like they can hear us.

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"She's something," he says, "but no normal being."

I turn away from the portraits. "So something similar to the librarians?"

"Something like that, yes."

I don't dare to look at the portraits again. I'm convinced that the blank expression has turned into something else, and I've had enough of things that should stay the same changing. The reflections in the crystal hall had been bad enough. I don't want to challenge fate by looking at these portraits, not knowing what kind they really are. Things are rarely as simple as they look here.

Once we reach the end of the stairs we're met with a long corridor. There are no doors on its sides, just an opening at the end of the hallway. The only way to go but down. We continue forward, and the silence once again fall between us. Once we cross the opening, we step into a round room that has three large windows with no glass. In the middle there's a pool filled with clear water, surrounding it is a green fence with four openings.

I step further into the jade-colored room. The pool's water seems like it would reach my knees at most.

"You can visit the world you created in here," Nine says and turns to the pool.

"In there...?"

"Yes, where else?" He approaches the fence. "Sit down in the water and open the world. Just focus on it entirely. Closing your eyes helps."

I hesitate and it takes some time before I can force my legs to move. Nine seems to be patient with me, probably more patient than anyone I've met here so far.

"It's safe. It just might feel a little uncomfortable at first."

I slowly step into the pool. A chill spreads in my body, it goes all the way to my fingertips. I can feel the water, or maybe it's the cold that confuses me. I sit down and the water reaches my chest and I take short, shuddering breaths as the cold creeps further in.

I take Nine's advice to heart and close my eyes. I think of the hidden world I created. My thoughts drift to the freckles covering her face, how the red hair laid on her shoulders.

It clicks and when I open my eyes I'm no longer in the tower, yet I still feel the coldness surrounding me.

It doesn't look real. Like I've entered a forgotten world that has started to peel away. The colors are weak, everything is pale and almost grey. Big parts of the area are covered in a darkness that is dripping down at the ground, and over the grey house like thick paint.

I carefully cross the grassy lawn. I try to breathe normally, even though it feels like I'm freezing to death from the inside.

The grass is brownish grey. It has once been green. This place used to be more colorful than the somber dystopia in front of me. There's love here, but it's old and forgotten and you can barely feel it anymore.

I reach the small, almost overgrown stone path that leads to the house. You can hear a dog bark in the distance, and a shape of blue gleaming dust is standing by the window. It extends an arm over the table, and even if I cannot see the details in its face, I know that the shape is talking and smiling.

Mother. I hear the word in my mind, like a gentle whisper. I feel that forgotten, old love that is fading away with the rest of this place, it belongs to a person that no longer exists.

The shape next to the table disappears and I'm staring into an empty kitchen. The front door opens by itself and invites me. I take it slowly, let it take the time it needs. It smells like home, and a strong feeling on nostalgia hangs around me when I explore the hallways and continue into the living room.

Two shapes of the same blue gleaming dust sit in the sofa. One is a little girl and the other is the shape I had seen reach over the table. Mother.

"Did... know... John...? He..."

English. I cannot understand the meaning of what they say, there's too many parts that are missing. The voices sound alien, like I'm in a familiar dream of nostalgia and the unknown.

"Laura... you..."

The voices die out and the shapes disappears from the sofa and all that is left is a lone living room. I stand there for a brief moment before I continue on my search. I reach some stairs in the hallway. A shape of a girl, the same one from the sofa, is sitting on the lower parts of the stairs.

"...Unfair!"

Mother is crouching down in front of the girl and wiping away the tears with her thumbs.

"It's... cry... he... better... remember... times."

Mother takes her in her embrace and strokes her hair. A sorrow hangs over the hallway and her cries cuts into my heart.

"They... short... give... with... here..."

The shapes disappears once again and I continue up the stairs, towards a room I know belongs to her. She's sitting on the bed – not the shape but the little girl. She's just as grey and pale as the rest of this world. Parts of her are covered in a deep black paint, so thick that it's impossible to know what hides behind.

I know that she is only a part of this world I've created of her memories. But I cannot see the girl as anything but real, even though she's almost peeling away in front of me.

She gets up from the bed and sits down on the floor in front of a cloth doll. It's not as pale and grey like the rest of this place, and its colors are so vivid that it burns to look at it. The doll is the exact belonging I've been looking for.

The girl picks up the colorful toy and places it on her knee, with her other hand she picks up another doll – that is just as pale and grey as the rest of the world – and puts it on the other knee.

"Well, monsieur. I certainly did not expect you to invite me – a princess – for tea." She speaks clearly.

I take a step closer and focus on the toy.

"My princess, how could I ever," she begins with an exaggerated dark voice but when I take another step closer, she stops in the middle of the sentence and looks up at me.

She widens her eyes but before I can say something she fades away until nothing of her is left. The colorful doll lays on the floor with the face pushed against the wooden floorboards. I bend down to pick it up. It has red braided hair, with a crown made of yarn. The dress is white with yellow patterns embroidered along the lower parts. Below the closed eyes is two rosy circles.

I study it so I remember each detail of the doll. When I've made sure I've put everything to memory, I think of the deep place in my mind, I imagine myself putting the doll in the darkness and when I open my eyes again my hands are empty.

I think of the rounded room with the pool on my memory before I close my eyes again. I focus on the coldness, on the water I'm sitting in. I think of the tower and Nine that is waiting for me to come back.