Maze of Missing Memories
Grey clouds moved over the sky, blocking the sunlight from reaching the ground. It was a dull grey. The trees of the park looked naked, devoid of their leaves, and their branches stretched into the sky like skeleton fingers.
The street was empty; no one was out at this time of the day. Everyone was at home, sitting in front of the warm fire. She asked herself why she was not with her family as well, but stood in the cold. She had no answers, only reasons that kept her going.A reason was the riddle she had got.
The dark, iron gate was intimidating. Its ornamentation looked ancient and cold, but at the same time it emitted the feeling of a warm welcome. She did not know what to think about it. All she knew was that whoever had lured her to this gate must have had a valid reason.
With a deep sigh, she slowly pushed one gate side open and stepped into the park.
‘You know, that was the most stupid thing you could have done.’
I sighed with resignation. Elle would never let it go. It was typical for her to rub my nose in things I have done that were not the cleverest ones. She enjoyed getting me annoyed until I would scream and hex her. Of course, Father was not happy with me when I lost my composure and hurt any of my siblings.
‘And you know that I am sorry. I already told you all so,’ I said, tired of the constant discussion.
‘That does not change the fact that you went out without a cloak, Isla, in the middle of winter!’
She continued with her tirade, but I quickly droned out her voice. I knew Elle would not let the subject drop and go on for days if needs be. But since she would only repeat what she had said so far, it was not worth listening any longer.
I slightly turned my head to look out of the window; snow had started falling, and the flakes were softly trickling to the ground. It was a peaceful silence which calmed me and let me forget what happened in the last hours. The strangeness of my experiences did not lessen, although the darkness I had felt within my heart loosened a bit.
I sighed.
‘You are not even listening!’ I was accused, and Elle’s angry voice brought me back to the present. ‘You will never learn anything if you are not listening, Isla!’
‘I would listen if you would not repeat a million times what you already have said, Elle,’ I retorted, not caring what consequences my cheeky response would have.
When I met the eyes of my sister, I saw a dangerous sparkle glimmer in the misty grey; I had never before seen my sister this close to exploding at me. Maybe I should be a bit more careful with what I say.
Silence had settled over the place; it seemed as if nothing else outside this park existed. The park was the world, and the world was the park. Snow lay on the grass, but it was easier to imagine that no grass had ever grown there. The trees looked even more lifeless than from outside the gate. Not even a small breeze of wind went, and she could hear no crows “ which were usual for this time of the year and this place.
Walking slowly through the snow, her steps left imprints in the snow that were witnesses of life having entered this place. But everywhere else, not even the tiniest trace of the smallest animal was to be seen. The snow blanket was untouched. And the mansion she neared looked just the same: dead and unwelcoming. The walls were dirty, and the plaster came already off. The roof leaked in several places, and several smashed windows made it difficult to believe that people actually had once been living in the house. But she knew the house must be inhabited. The message had meant this address, she was sure of it.
When Elle had gone “ after having given me a piece of her mind “ I got out of my bed and went over to my dresser. I wanted to have another look at the shard my fiancé had put there on my request when bringing me up into my room and laying me onto my bed. He had looked at me in his typical questioning gaze, his brown eyes carrying a warning, but he did as I requested. But the shard was no longer there. The dresser was bereft of anything bigger than the tiniest particle of dust. Closing my eyes to think, I paced my room; five steps up, and five steps down again. Then it came to my mind where the shard had gone.
Quickly but silently walking down the stairs “ I was still slightly hobbling due to my sometimes still hurting leg “ I went down into the basement where the kitchen was, and found that it was empty, except for our two house-elves. They looked surprised to see me, but bowed accordingly, asking what I needed.
‘I need the shard, the dark one that lay on my dresser, where did you put it?’ I addressed the female elf since she had been my nurse from the moment on I was born. Only she came up to look after my room. If anyone had taken the shard off my dresser, it could have been only her.
She gulped, but dutifully answered. She was bound to, seeing that I was her Miss. But apparently Father had ordered her to take the shard and not tell me. She said with much difficulties “ she had to serve two completely contradictory orders “ that Father had been worried about me when Elle and my fiancé brought me home, halfway frozen to death and dirty from head to toe. And to top it all I had been desperately clutching at a shard that was “ upon inspection “ completely worthless.
But it was not worthless for me. I could not explain it, but I needed to have that shard back. ‘Give it to me,’ I said to the elf. ‘Now.’ My voice sounded dangerous, and trembling guiltily, the elf went and retrieved the shard. It cost her a lot of will-power to act against Father’s order. But as soon as I held the shard in my hand again, she ran, grabbed the fire tongs and started hitting herself with it, calling herself a bad elf. Usually, the sight of our elves punishing themselves made me take pity on them and rush to help them to stop it, but right then I did not care. I had what I wanted and left the kitchen.
Ignorance is the first step to a broken heart.
Having been about to put my foot onto the first step, I halted when hearing the whispered words. It was a voice I had heard before but could not remember where. I carefully listened for some moments, but the whisper did not appear again. So I continued my way up to the first floor.
When arriving on the landing, I turned towards the drawing room.
The double entrance door stood slightly open, but being brought up with knowledge of how to behave properly in society, she knocked and waited. The only result was, however, that the one door opened further, the hinges creaking horribly in the silence of the house. She gulped but gathered all her courage and entered.
The entrance hall was empty, and dust had settled on the little but antique furniture. A chandelier hang from the ceiling, but the gold was already rubbed off, and the candles long gone; only some wax sprinkles told from the candles’ existence a long time ago. The colours of the ceiling paintings itself had faded away, and only in some places the once grandiose hunting scenery shimmered still through. She was sad to see the liveliness of it lost, having had admired it when having first seen it many years ago.
She turned around, and faced the magnificent, ivory staircase that led to the upper floor where the actual living quarters of the former inhabitants and guest rooms were. Her instinct instructed her to go to his room, and she remembered it lay on the upper floor, in the left wing. Gathering her skirt, she slowly walked upstairs. Her steps left footprints in the dusty blanket that had not been disturbed in such a long time.
Obsession is the second step to the ruin of your soul.
Surprised to hear the whispered voice again, I stopped, my hand closed around the door handle of the drawing room. I turned my head in every direction, looking who else was there, but I was alone, and the house was completely quiet. ‘Hello?’ I carefully asked nonetheless. ‘Who is there?’ A slow echo of my voice wafted back to me.
I did not receive an answer, but the voice and the words “ of both times “ did not let go of my mind anymore. Over and over my inner voice repeated the whispered words, letting them sound more and more frightening. I paled and hastily stepped into the drawing room, closing the door behind me. I leaned against it, closing my eyes and rubbing my temples, willing my inner demons to stop the chant. But the only result I got was an evil laughter that echoed around the void.
I got horrified and sank onto the floor. Tears started rolling down my cheeks, and I begged it to stop. ‘Please!’
You have seen what will happen if you do not comprehend.
When hearing the softly spoken words, not a whisper but a voice with tone, soft but still strong, I looked up and looked into the grey eyes of a small boy.
The left wing of the mansion looked as deserted as the entrance hall had. Dust lay everywhere, and the carpet was scratched and dirty. She remembered that when having walked over it for the first time she had enjoyed the softness of it beneath her feet, but now it was stiff. Small fumes of dust rose up when she walked by.
The door to his room stood open, wide. She carefully looked into it, to see if he was there. She expected him to be after having been “invited” to come to him. But the room was empty. Memories of a time long ago, thought forgotten already, appeared again, reminding her of how happy she had been whenever she had been allowed to visit him. But now, seeing the cold emptiness that had remained behind, she felt sad and empty. Her heart hurt upon the sight of what she remembered to be a comfortable room.
A sudden noise, a clunk, made her swivel around, her skirt rising up with the swirl. She thought he might have come, entering after her. But the hallway in front of the room was deserted. And the old carpet did not look like someone other than she had come up this way.
But the clunking sound repeated itself. It did not come from the hallway, she now realised, but from the small chamber that was built into the wall close to the door. It was a huge wardrobe, and the amount of robes that had found a place there had fascinated her years ago.
Curious as to what the noise was, but frightened nonetheless, she slowly stepped closer, and reached out a shaking hand to open the door. It was painted in the same colour as the surrounding walls, but over time the colour “ like with the ceilings “ had faded away. The glass with the heart-shaped leaf ornament however was still there, unharmed. It was a bit dusty maybe, but not one scratch was to be seen on first sight.
On second sight, however, she noticed that in the left down corner a small fragment of the glass was missing. And strangely, it had the same shape as the shade she still possessed.
Firmly closing her hand around the handle, ready to open the door, she was not prepared when all of a sudden a hand appeared, lying itself against the glass from inside. Long fingernails scratched at it, the screeching noise hurting her ears.
Screaming, she turned and ran.
‘What did you say?’ I asked.
He only smiled, but did not answer. Instead, he reached out and waited for me to take his offered hand. Hesitating, I looked at him closely, wondering who he was and what he was going to do with me “ or worse, to me. He was a small boy only, yet size did not matter for I knew that even small people could be dangerous. But the calmness he emitted soon swapped over me as well. I took his hand.
The moment our hands touched, a magic sparkling bolt shot through me, heightening my senses to a level I had never before experienced.
‘Who are you?’ I asked, curious and scared at the same time of what could happen.
I only received another mysterious smile before he led me out onto the landing once more.
The boy led me up into the study of Father. I knew he had lots of books in there that were not in the library because Father and Mother thought we were still too young to know about their content. What I realised though when stepping into Father’s study was that I had never before been in this room.
I looked around curiously, inspecting the long rows of books Father kept up here rather than in our library. But while walking around, I never let go of the boy’s hand.
Turning my attention away from the book shelves, I found a cabinet which one door stood slightly open. The key was in the lock, but not turned. Carefully, I opened the already open door and peeked inside.
It seemed that Father kept a collection of various potions. The vials came in all sizes and forms; some bottles were long and thin, other small with a round convexity. The potions’ colours ranged from pale and clear over bloody red to poisonous green. I quickly tore my eyes away from the latter bottle.
What caught my special interest, however, was a bottle with a light blue-silver liquid that shimmered in the otherwise dark cabinet. I slowly took the bottle into my hand and examined it closer, careful as to not let it fall. What made me wonder was that the stopper of the bottle was missing.
An impatient tug at the hand that still held the boy’s tore my attention away, and I looked down at him. ‘Is there something you want to tell me?’ I asked. My fear of him had vanished completely, and I felt something for the boy. It was similar as to what I felt for my siblings; it was my love for them I felt flooding through my heart and being directed at the boy. It was so strong I was overwhelmed.
He tugged again and pointed at my robes’ pockets. I looked at it, then put the potion bottle back to its place in Father’s cabinet. Afterwards, I slid my hand into my pocket and unearthed the shard. I looked at it for some time, then turned towards the boy and showed him the shard. ‘Do you mean this shard?’
He smiled and let go of my hand.
The sudden loss and emptiness I felt tore something apart in me. I felt like falling, endlessly.
As suddenly as this feeling had come, it vanished again; not completely, but enough to have me realise the boy had walked back to the door. He only shortly looked back at me, over his shoulder, as if telling me to follow him. I complied.
Like a ghost, as silent and as swift, the boy walked down the stairs. My own steps on the stairs left small noises here and there, when I stepped on an especially creaky stair for example. But his steps were deathly silent.
Was he real? Was he really there with me? Or was my imagination playing with my mind, letting me see things and persons that did not exist?
We reached the first landing, and the boy, who appeared to be more familiar now, turned to the drawing room. He moved to open its door, but his hand went through the handle. I stopped mid-step upon seeing this. So he was a ghost…
Do not fear.
I went calm. I was wrapped in a warm blanket that silenced all worries. My eye sight grew weak for a moment, but when it was clear once more, the boy winked me to open the door in his stead. I did as requested.
The drawing room was dark and cold, similar to what it was like when I found Phineas’ body. But this time, the light went on after I had taken two steps in. And the window was closed. Yet, wintery coldness swept in, cooling down the room enormously. The small fire that comfortably crackled in the grate lost the fight against the icy grasps of winter.
The boy went past me, walking to the window. And then something else that was strange happened. The window suddenly vanished, and beneath what must have been a charm I saw the original glass panes appear out of nothing.
With a broken edge in the lower left.
I opened my palm and looked at the shard of glass I held in it; its form fit perfectly. I went over, and tried putting the shard back into its place, and sure enough, the shard “ once in place “ melted into the glass pane until the window was whole again. I recognised the charm Father must have put on the window, and the soft smell in the air was the same I had tasted when I had held the one potion vile in my hand, up in Father’s study.
Turning around, I looked at the boy. Suddenly, before my inner eye, he grew older, gained in height and age. And like being struck by a bolt of lightning, I was struck with recognition:
The boy was my brother who had died before I was born.
‘Sirius? How “’ I started but he silenced me with an impatient wave of his hand.
The time is near for you to see
What lies ahead, what you will be.
Your choice is hard, not easily done,
So do choose wise or you will not have won.
‘What do you want to tell me?’ I said, my voice growing louder, panic rising within me. I could literally feel the time racing by.
Remember the place where happiness reigned,
Where life had been, now dust is gained.
Go there; find him to hear him speak,
And you shall find what you do seek.
‘Sirius “’ I tried again, but with the blink of an eye, he was gone.
It felt like floating. She moved her legs, hastened along the hallway, but she did not make any progress. She treaded air like water but without moving forwards.
Suddenly, there was an explosion when the doors left and right of her were thrown open by an invisible force. They banged against the walls, and some were ripped off their hinges; they either stayed upright against the walls or fell onto the carpet so that thick clouds of ancient dust rose into the air. It hindered her sight, and breathing became difficult. The air was grey.
‘Who are you?’ she shouted, deciding to turn around and face whoever was in the house with her. ‘What do you want?’ Her voice cracked, and her fear was clearly audible.
She did not receive an answer; instead, a shadow appeared at the end of the hallway. It stepped out of his room, its contours hidden by a dark wide cloak. The dusty clouds still hang in the air, like being suspended in midair and forced to float from then on only. They helped hiding the shadowy figure, and she could hardly see anything.
A distinct laughter broke loose and echoed around the hallway. Dust fell from the ceiling; it looked as if the house itself was crying. Soon, the laughter grew stronger and droned out any other sound. She covered her ears, but still the laughter penetrated her mind and every part of her being. Her heartbeat went up, racing in fear, and she begged for it to stop.
But no silence fell.
Slowly sinking onto her knees, she lost every feeling in her limbs. A quiet whisper near her made her lift her head “
“ and look into the eyes of utter darkness.
I fainted.
When I woke up, I found myself in a dark place. Everything around me was damp, and from afar I heard the constant sound of water dropping to the stony ground. Its echo wafted around the dark place I was in, its rhythm was irregular; sometimes the drops would fall fast one after the other, but there were moments when there was no sound at all and a deadly silence settled itself over me.
It was terribly cold as well, and I shivered. I grabbed at my robes to wrap me into them, but just then I realised that they were all wet. Apparently, I sat in a puddle of water.
Hastening to stand up, I swore, unladylike words coming from my mouth. I guess even my fiancé would have paled had he heard me in that moment. Under different circumstances, that thought would have made me chuckle or smile, but right then I did not feel like being amused at all. I wanted to get out of there fast “ wherever it was that I was in at the moment.
Turning around myself once, I took the chance to memorise my surroundings. I was in a wide but low place; however, it was still high enough for me to stand upright without any problems. The stoned walls described an arch, and there were deepenings that looked like the windows you typically found in medieval castles. This place looked entirely familiar to me, but I could not quite remember where and when I had seen this dungeon before.
Taking a deep breath and bracing myself, I made my way towards where the light came from at the end of the dungeon hallway.