I choose a few soul wanderers and experience their memories. Even if they seem more tangible for each new shape I choose, they’re all distorted. In each memory a few things are repeated. Names of cities, creatures or soul wanderers that has withered, the kings and a punishment.

It takes a lot of energy to experience these memories, I can barely stand on my legs as I lower the mirror for the tenth time. When I bring it up again to begin my eleventh shape I fall to the muddy ground.

“Rest,” Clover says.

”We don’t have time for that.”

I try to stand up again, but my legs give away.

“Don’t be an idiot,” he snaps through gritted teeth. “You’re no use if you push yourself to the point of total exhaustion!”

I glare at him before I put the mirror into my mind. Sun slowly turns her face towards me.

“So? Anything we can use?”

“Nothing that can lead us to the mask. But it repeats things. Do you know anything about a creature or maybe a soul wanderer by the name of Kailysta or the Nightguard?”

She shakes her head and grimaces. “No. But those names don’t sound like soul wanderers. Creatures? Maybe. The Nightguard,” she takes a deep breath, “sounds like a title.”

”And the kings? They’re often mentioned. You spoke of them in Arkaros, no?”

She glares at me through heavy eyes and barely moves as she scoffs. “The three kings?”

I nod.

”They’re a legend.” She quiets. “… Or it should be a legend. Are you telling me it’s not?”

I can’t answer that. I knew nothing of the kings, the possibility of it being just a legend was still there. The kings they spoke of didn’t have to be three kings. Besides, the memories were too distorted to trust.

“It doesn’t matter, does it?” Clover says and rolls his eyes as he pushes his back further against the tower to not slip down. “The legend is thousands of years old. We need to focus on finding the mask and get out of here before the darkness destroys us.”

If it began moving now, we’d likely not be able to make it out. Clover is right. If the kings are a legend or not is something we have to figure out later. We have to find the mask and get out of here.

I focus on the mirror in my mind, and I call it forth to my hand. The same ache moves through my body as it finally appears in my palm.

“You have to rest, Orchid,” Sun says.

I sit crisscrossed on the ground as I extend my shaky hand with the mirror. It feels much heavier when I have no energy left.

“I can rest when we’ve left this fucking world,” I mutter and stare into the green eyes in the mirror.

Neither Sun nor Clover stops me.

****

It feels like I’ve been sitting on the muddy ground, with the mirror in my hand, for hours. I cannot stop shaking. Memory after memory says the same thing. A fear that this world will collapse, that the darkness will come. They had already known that it would be coming before they abandoned it – it had been the very reason why they had left it.

Nine occasionally checks in and asks me how we are and what I’ve seen. He doesn’t know anything about the Nightguard or Kailysta. That Sun who is the oldest of us hasn’t heard about it makes me doubt that Sage would know anything either. Yet I ask. Nine gives me the answer I had expected. He had not heard of them, just the legend about the three kings.

I’ve lost count on how many shapes I’ve seen and felt. When I can no longer keep my arm up, Clovers sits down next to me and gently grabs my arm and holds it steady.

Shape after shape gives me the same information. Kings. Punishment. Darkness. Kailysta being withered. The Nightguard… But nothing of the mask.

An aggressive cough builds up in my throat, I try to keep it under control. Clover quickly tears the mirror out of my hand and the scene dies out.

“What are you doing?” I ask between the coughing fits.

My entire throat feels like it’s on fire.

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

“It’s enough.”

I grimace. “We’re going to die here.”

He stands up and gives the mirror to Sun. “Keep it until she can use it again.”

“Don’t treat me like a child.”

Clover sits down at the tower.

“Rest, Orchids,” Sun orders me.

I crawl towards them, waves of pain shooting up my arms.

Anything new? Nine’s words echo in my mind.

I lean towards the jet-black wall and close my eyes. They took the mirror from me.

Are you overworking yourself?

I don’t answer.

You cannot do anything if you work yourself to the bone, Orchid. You need to rest like the rest of us.

I know, I send back. I’m just frustrated that I make no progress no matter how much I try.

It doesn’t matter how many shape’s memories I witness. It isn’t bringing us any closer to the mask. At this rate I’m exhausting myself for no reason. I cough and push a shaky hand towards my mouth.

Rest, he says, a bit harsher this time, and when you can walk again move on to the tower I spoke of. If you haven’t found anything there yet you’re unlikely to ever find it.

I open my eyes and stare at the large tower, one of the smaller towers hides it from this angle. I can still see some of the red lights. Nine is right, if there is any answers of where the mask is located it’d likely be there, unless it has already been taken by the darkness. Then it won’t matter how many shape’s memories I witness.

The only thing filling the silence are our heavy breaths, but this world is uncomfortable silent. In a desperate need to break the silence I tell them what Nine had said, and that our next objective is the futuristic tower.

****

It doesn’t get any better with time. If we keep sitting this close to the darkness – that’s barely fifteen meters away from us – we won’t be able to gather the energy we need to keep going. Clover is the healthiest of us, he could reach the futuristic tower, but only with one of us.

Sun stares at me with a gaze that’s entirely drained of all energy. Her eyes are blank, they almost look dead. I know what she wants to say before she opens her mouth.

“Leave me here.”

Clover quickly turns his head. “Are you insane?!”

”You’re not going anywhere if you have to drag me along… Admit it, by this rate I’ll only slow you down.”

She coughs, it makes her shake uncontrollably, like she’s sick with fever.

“When you… have found the mask,” she swallows and her eyes are half-open, “come and get me.”

I doubt she’d be able to hold onto then.

“We have to move her.”

“And who will do that?” she mutters hoarsely. “Clover needs to save his energy… if he’s supposed to take you to the tower… and you… you can barely stand.”

“Orchid, ask Nine or Sage to get her. Now.”

He stands up on unsteady legs, for a moment he struggles to keep his balance until he straightens out his back while grimacing.

Where are you? I ask in my mind.

Clover takes a steady grip on my arm and helps me up from the muddy stoneground. Each millimeter of my legs are aching when I put weight on them. He lays another arm around my waist and keeps me up, I have to lean against him not to fall to the ground.

A dead garden and a greenhouse of black glass. We’ve also found some stairs leading down somewhere, our plan is to explore it and see where it might lead.

We’re in the same place as before. One of you have to get over here.

Why?

Sun closes her eyes. “Go.”

We can’t bring Sun with us. I can barely walk myself. Get her.

Clover slowly moves forward through the open street. I grip the muddy jacket and pull the heavy feet across the mud.

I’ll send Sage.

“Sage will come for her,” I breathe to Clover whose grip gets tighter with shaky, clumsy hands.

“Good.”

I don’t dare to turn around – if I even could physically do it. I’m scared it will feel even more like we’re abandoning her. I’m praying that Sage will be there in time.

For each clumsy step we take the more my body aches, but we continue forward. Across mud and stone slabs, through narrow alleys until we can see it clearly in front of us. The base of the large tower and the black platform that is formed like a hexagon. A few more steps and I can take out the mirror. Fifty? Sixty?

I stare at the gleaming black platform. It’s unnaturally clean compared to the rest of the world. I feel no joy or relief, instead a feeling of pure anxiety has arisen inside me.

“What is this?” I ask.

A vile pain in the depth of my stomach arises at the same time my words leave my mouth. Clover’s grips tightens as he slows down.

“I don’t know,” he breathes.

He can feel it too, the anxiety crawling up our backs. I want to ask him to turn around, that the mask is not worth this.

I don’t want to see nor hear what awaits on the platform. We continue forward towards the large tower and towards something that has been for a very long time.

I can feel the hunger within me, it has felt it in an eternity, this need to devour something – anything it can get its long fingers around. It’s tired of mud, glass, and darkness. Its hunger is unwavering, it seeks each part of its body. Something has kept it alive all these years and let the hunger build in anticipation.

My stomach aches and my mouth salivate when I smell our own scent.

“Don’t trust it. Be on your guard,” Clover whispers.

Our breaths are different. Not caused by the exhaustion and ache that still sits deep within our bones. We have a horrid excitement within us, like we are also lying in wait for something.

We move slowly up the stairs to the platform. I push my fingers harder into Clover’s tender back and lick my lips. It’s hard to think, to shut out the hunger that makes my entire jaw ache. I open my mouth and slowly move my jaw in an attempt to remove the pain from my teeth. It doesn’t help and only makes me feel starved.

When we reach the platform Clover lets go of me and I fall down on my knees. He’s looking around, his entire body stiff. I move my lips carefully with shaking fingers. I want to shut out the disgusting pictures I see in my mind – the ones it keeps sending me over and over again.

Clover takes a step back and I force myself to stare at the horror that is creeping out from behind the tower. It’s still in my head, sending me grotesque pictures, while its slowly pulling itself forward. Its arms are unnaturally long, malnourished yet muscular. Jet-black like the rest of the body. Its lower body looks like a fat larva that has been chopped off in the middle, causing black pieces of meaty strings to be dragged behind it. The torso looks human with an unnatural long and thin neck. I cannot see the face. It’s hidden by a red-golden mask. The only thing visible is the mouth, a bloody gape that looks more like a hole. The hunger it feels when it watches us is colossal.

Clover takes another step back. “Run.”