The Hollow Woods and the Clockwork Wolves

Chapter 8: Shards of Memory

The void hummed with an almost imperceptible resonance, a faint song of forgotten moments, too faint for the human ear yet loud enough to vibrate Lila's very soul. Around her, the shards of memory floated, their surfaces flickering like the reflections of flames on still water. Each one pulsed faintly, as though calling out to her. She felt like she was standing at the edge of an infinite ocean, with each shard a star on the surface, reflecting pieces of the constellations above.

The Keeper had vanished into the folds of the void, leaving Lila utterly alone with the weight of her task. The absence of the enigmatic figure was tangible, her departure leaving a chill in the air. Even so, Lila found herself oddly focused, her fear tempered by something deeper—curiosity. The shards around her seemed alive, imbued with stories waiting to be told. If she was to understand herself, the Engine, and the path forward, these fragments held the key.

She approached the nearest shard, her steps hesitant. The shard was the size of her outstretched hand, its edges soft yet shimmering as if it were made of liquid glass. Within it, she could see shapes shifting—blurs of color and movement, faint whispers emanating from its core. It was mesmerizing. She reached out a trembling hand, her fingertips grazing its surface.

The moment she made contact, a jolt of energy shot through her, sending her stumbling backward. A rush of sensation overtook her—colors, sounds, smells—everything at once, overwhelming and chaotic. When her vision cleared, she was no longer in the void.

She stood in a field of wildflowers under an open sky, the air sweet with the scent of lavender and honeysuckle. The sun was high, its rays warm against her skin. Around her, children laughed and played, their voices mingling with the soft rustle of the breeze. Lila recognized the place instantly: it was her childhood village, nestled in a valley where time had always seemed to stand still.

But something was wrong.

The colors were too vibrant, the laughter too loud, and the faces of the children—her friends, her younger self among them—were blurred, their features indistinct. It was like watching a dream unfold, half-formed and incomplete. She took a step forward, her feet sinking into the soft grass, and felt the pull of the shard drawing her toward the center of the scene.

She spotted her younger self—a girl no older than ten, her dark hair pulled into a loose braid. She sat alone at the edge of the field, her knees pulled to her chest, staring into the distance. There was a sadness in her posture, a weight that didn't belong on the shoulders of a child. Lila's heart ached as she watched herself, a pang of guilt and longing hitting her all at once.

Why are you here? - Lila whispered, though she wasn't sure if she was speaking to herself or the shard. - What are you trying to show me?

The younger Lila didn't respond, of course, but as if in answer to her question, the scene began to shift. The sky darkened, the bright colors fading into muted tones. The laughter of the children ceased, replaced by an eerie silence. Lila watched in horror as shadows crept across the field, swallowing the flowers, the children, and the village itself. The young version of herself remained, sitting motionless as the darkness closed in.

Lila tried to run to her younger self, but the ground beneath her feet turned to liquid, trapping her in place. The shadows reached the girl, enveloping her in an instant. And then, just as suddenly as it had begun, the vision shattered.

She was back in the void, her breath coming in ragged gasps. The shard hovered before her, its light dimmed, its whispers quiet. Whatever memory it had contained, it had shown her only a fragment—a sliver of a truth she didn't yet understand.

What was that? - she muttered to herself, her voice echoing in the emptiness. She felt the weight of the memory settle on her, heavy and unyielding. It was a piece of her past, she realized—a piece she had long buried, or perhaps forgotten. But why had it been shown to her now? What was its purpose?