The Attic

Chapter 1: Awakening in Sand

The heat was overwhelming. Jake opened his eyes against a blinding light so intense it hurt. His lips were already cracked, his throat so dry that swallowing was torture. He lay half-buried in sand that felt scorching hot against his skin, like tiny fiery needles pricking into him.

He struggled to his feet, sand sliding from his clothes that were still damp from the melting ice crystals of the Ice World. The moisture evaporated almost visibly in the dry air, small clouds of vapour rising and immediately disappearing in the merciless sun.

Jake looked around. Endless sand dunes stretched in all directions, undulating like a frozen ocean of gold. The sky was a deep, unnaturally blue, without a single cloud to offer shelter from the burning sun. The heat made the air shimmer above the sand, causing the horizon to dance and distort like a hallucinating vision.

He felt in his pockets and sensed the reassuring presence of the objects he had collected: the card with the tree symbol from the Silent City, the wooden tree figurine from the Magical Forest, and the Crystal Heart from the Ice World. They felt warm, almost hot in the desert heat, but somehow comforting, like anchors connecting him to the worlds he had visited.

In the distance, almost merged with the horizon, he saw the contours of what appeared to be ruins – broken columns and decayed walls rising from the sand like the remains of a long-forgotten civilisation. It was the only feature in the endless landscape, and Jake instinctively knew that was his destination.

He began to walk, his feet sinking into the hot sand that slipped between his toes with each step. The sun burned on his head and shoulders, and he could already feel his skin beginning to glow. Without water, without shelter, he knew he wouldn’t survive long in this unforgiving environment.

“Water,” he whispered, the word barely audible in the dry air. “I need water.”

As if in answer to his thoughts, he saw a flash of movement in the corner of his eye. He turned and saw a figure standing on top of a nearby dune, shrouded in a long, sand-coloured cloak that fluttered in a wind Jake couldn’t feel. The figure’s face was hidden behind a veil, but something in the posture, in the way the person stood, was unmistakably familiar.

“Mandy?” called Jake, his voice hoarse and weak.

The figure made a gesture, an invitation to follow, and then began to descend the other side of the dune, disappearing from view.

Jake quickened his pace, as best he could in the deep sand, determined not to lose the mysterious figure. He reached the top of the dune, out of breath and sweating, and looked down. There, in a small valley between the dunes, stood an oasis – a small pool of water surrounded by palm trees offering impossible shade in this scorching landscape.

The veiled figure stood by the water, waiting.

Chapter 2: The Desert Guide

Jake almost stumbled in his haste to reach the oasis. The water glistened in the sunlight, an impossible blue jewel in the golden sand. He fell to his knees at the edge of the pool and plunged his hands into the cool water, bringing it eagerly to his lips. It was sweet and fresh, and he drank greedily, feeling life returning to his dehydrated body.

“Careful,” said a voice above him. “Drinking too quickly after dehydration can be dangerous.”

Jake looked up. The veiled figure stood beside him, and now she slowly removed the veil from her face. It was indeed Mandy, but again different from how he had seen her before. Her skin was tanned by the sun, her hair dark and braided with small beads that jingled when she moved. Her eyes, normally brown, now had a golden glow reminiscent of the sand around them.

“Mandy,” said Jake, standing up to look at her. “Or do you have a different name here?”

She smiled, a flash of white teeth against her tanned skin. “Here I am known as Zara, the Desert Guide. But to you, I am always Mandy, in whatever form.”

“Zara,” repeated Jake, tasting the name. “It suits you.”

“Come,” she said, gesturing towards the shade of the palm trees. “Let’s rest before the midday heat is at its worst. Then I will tell you about this world.”

They sat together in the shade, and Zara produced a bundle from beneath her cloak. She unfolded it to reveal dried fruit and bread, which she shared with Jake. The food, though simple, was the most delicious meal Jake could remember.

“This is the Forgotten Desert,” Zara began, as they ate. “A world of extremes – scorching heat by day, freezing cold by night. A world where water is more precious than gold and where secrets lie buried beneath centuries of sand.”

“What kind of secrets?” asked Jake.

“The ruins you saw in the distance were once a great city, the centre of a civilisation that had perfected the art of remembering,” she explained. “They could capture memories in stone, preserve them for eternity. But a great disaster came, and the desert claimed the city. Now only the ruins remain, and the memories stored within them.”

“Memories… like a memory gate?” asked Jake, thinking of the radio in the Silent City, the tree in the Magical Forest, and the mirror in the Ice World.

Zara nodded. “Exactly. In the ruins is a temple, and in that temple is a broken column. That column contains memories that are important for your journey, Jake. Memories about the Erebus project, about who you were before you began travelling between worlds.”

Jake felt an excitement that dispelled the fatigue of his journey through the desert. “Then we must go to those ruins.”

“We will go,” Zara assured him, “but not now. Now we rest. The desert does not forgive haste or carelessness. We travel at sunset, when the heat diminishes.”

Jake wanted to protest, but he felt the wisdom in her words. The desert was a dangerous place, and he needed her knowledge to survive. He leaned back against the trunk of a palm tree, feeling fatigue overcome him now that his hunger and thirst were quenched.

“Rest now,” he heard Zara say, her voice already far away as sleep claimed him. “I will keep watch.”

Chapter 3: The Ruins of Memory

Jake awoke when the sun was low in the sky, the fierce heat of the day replaced by a pleasant warmth. The shadows had grown long, and the sand had a golden-red glow in the light of the setting sun.

Zara sat beside him, patiently waiting. She had prepared a second cloak for him, sand-coloured like hers. “For the nights in the desert,” she explained. “They get colder than you might expect.”

Jake put on the cloak, grateful for the protection it offered. They drank some more water, filled leather pouches for the journey, and then began walking in the direction of the ruins, which were now more clearly visible in the evening light.

As they walked, Zara told more about the Forgotten Desert and its history. “This world was once green and fertile,” she said. “The people here had a deep connection with the past, with memories. They believed that remembering was a sacred act, that the past was never truly gone but always with us, shaping who we are.”

“What happened?” asked Jake. “They began to experiment with ways to preserve memories, not just in their minds but in physical form. They created the Memory Columns, massive structures that could record and replay what people had experienced. It was a marvel of technology and magic.”

“But then came the Great Forgetting,” she continued, her voice growing softer. “Some say it was a natural disaster, others that it was a consequence of their own experiments. Whatever it was, it changed the land into a desert and scattered the people. Only the ruins remained, and the memories stored within them.”

They reached the edge of the ruins as the last rays of the sun disappeared and the first stars appeared in the sky. It was an extensive site, larger than Jake had expected. Broken columns and collapsed walls stretched across an area as large as a small city. In the centre stood a structure that was larger and better preserved than the rest – a temple, Jake suspected, with tall columns that seemed to support the starry sky.

“That’s where we need to be,” said Zara, pointing to the temple. “But be careful. The ruins are protected by the Forgotten Guardians, beings made of sand and memory who are not friendly to intruders.”

They moved carefully through the ruins, their footsteps muffled by the sand that covered everything. The moon had risen, a full, silver disc that cast a ghostly light over the fallen city. Shadows moved between the columns, and Jake wasn’t sure if they were merely tricks of the moonlight or something more sinister.

When they reached the steps of the temple, Jake heard a soft, rustling sound behind him. He turned and saw the sand beginning to move, to pile up and take shape. A figure rose from the sand, vaguely human in form but with empty holes where eyes should be and a mouth that seemed to form an endless, silent scream.

“A Forgotten Guardian,” whispered Zara. “Move slowly towards the temple. I will distract it.”

Chapter 4: The Sandstorm of Memories

Before Jake could protest, Zara stepped forward and began to sing in a language he did not know. Her voice was melodious and hypnotic, and the Forgotten Guardian seemed to hesitate, its sandy form wavering in the night air.

Jake moved slowly backwards, up the steps of the temple, his eyes never leaving the confrontation between Zara and the Guardian. More sand forms began to rise from the ruins, attracted by Zara’s singing or perhaps by Jake’s presence.

Inside the temple it was cooler, the air heavy with the scent of ancient stone and time. Moonlight fell through holes in the roof, illuminating a central space where a single, broken column stood. The column was covered with inscriptions and symbols that glowed with a faint, golden light.

Jake walked towards the column, drawn by the glow. As he came closer, he saw that the symbols seemed to move, to change, like living things trapped in stone. He recognised some of the symbols – they resembled the tree symbol he had seen in the Silent City, but more complex, more detailed.

He stretched out his hand to touch the column, but hesitated, remembering the shock he had felt at the previous memory gates. But he knew he had to do this, that a piece of his past awaited him here.

Outside, he heard Zara’s singing change, becoming more intense. The Forgotten Guardians must be growing more numerous, more dangerous. He had no time to lose.

Jake placed his hand on the column, and immediately he was overwhelmed by images:

He sits in a laboratory, surrounded by screens and equipment. Before him stands a man with grey hair – the same man he had seen in his first memory in the Silent City.

“The Erebus project is almost ready for the testing phase,” says the man. “We just need a volunteer, someone who can make the journey and return to tell about it."

Jake hears himself say: “I’ll do it. I designed it, I understand the risks better than anyone."

The scene changes. Jake lies on a table, connected to machines. Beside him stands a woman with dark hair – the woman from his memory in the Magical Forest. She holds his hand, her face concerned.

“You don’t have to do this, Jake,” she says softly.

“I have to do it, Elara,” he answers. “This is what we’ve been working towards all these years. The possibility of travelling between worlds, of breaking the boundaries of reality."

“But the risks—"

“I know the risks,” he interrupts her. “And I accept them."

The scene changes again. A room filled with a strange, pulsating energy. Jake stands in the middle, dressed in a special suit covered with sensors. Around him stand scientists, including the grey-haired man and Elara.

“Activate the portal,” commands the grey-haired man.

Machines come to life, energy builds up. A tear appears in the air before Jake, an opening to… somewhere else.

“Now, Jake,” says the grey-haired man. “Step through."

Jake steps forward, towards the tear. But just as he reaches it, something goes wrong. Alarms sound, the energy becomes unstable. The tear begins to grow, to change.

“Shut it down!” someone shouts.

“I can’t!” calls another voice. “It’s out of control!"

Jake feels himself being pulled towards the tear, unable to resist. The last thing he sees before he is sucked through it is Elara running towards him, her face contorted with fear and despair.

“Jake!” she screams. “JAKE!"

The images vanished, and Jake found himself on his knees before the column, tears streaming down his cheeks. He remembered now – not everything, but enough. He had been a scientist, one of the designers of the Erebus project. He had voluntarily stepped through the portal, but something had gone wrong. And Elara… who was she? His wife? His beloved? Someone who had been important to him, that was certain.

A sudden gust of wind drew his attention. He looked up and saw that the temple was filled with swirling sand, a miniature sandstorm circling around him. The grains of sand glowed with the same golden light as the symbols on the column, and as they moved, they formed images – flashes of faces, places, events. Memories, Jake realised, memories trapped in the sand itself.

And in the middle of the storm stood Zara, her arms outstretched, her eyes glowing with the same golden light.

“Jake,” she said, her voice strangely distorted, as if multiple voices were speaking at once. “You must control the storm. You must accept the memories, make them part of you.”

Chapter 5: The Power of Memory

Jake stood up, feeling the sand swirling around him, touching his skin like small electric shocks. Each grain seemed to contain a memory, a fragment of a life – not just his own, but of countless others who had been here, who had left their memories in this ancient place.

“How?” he called above the sound of the storm. “How do I control this?”

“In the Silent City, you learned about resistance,” Zara replied, still with that strange, multi-voiced voice. “In the Magical Forest, you learned about life and growth. In the Ice World, you learned about structure and emotion. Here you must learn about memory – how to hold onto the past without being trapped by it.”

Jake closed his eyes, concentrating on the swirling grains of sand around him. He felt how each particle carried a story, a moment in time. He thought of the objects he had collected: the card with the tree symbol, the wooden figurine, the Crystal Heart. Each was an anchor, a memory of a world he had visited, a part of himself he had rediscovered. He took them out and held them in his outstretched hands. They began to glow – the card with a soft blue light, the figurine with a green light, the Heart with a white light. The glow expanded, mingling with the golden light of the sandstorm.

Jake felt a new power rising within him, different from what he had experienced before. It wasn’t the resistance energy of the Silent City, not the life force of the Magical Forest, not the crystallising energy of the Ice World. This was the power of memory, of the past shaping the present.

He stretched his hands towards the storm and felt the sand respond to his will. The swirling chaos began to take form, to organise itself into patterns that resembled the symbols on the column. The images in the sand became clearer, more coherent – no longer random flashes but a cohesive story.

Jake saw himself, younger, working on the Erebus project. He saw the grey-haired man – Professor Harlow, he remembered now – leading the team. He saw Elara, his colleague, his partner, his… wife? The memories were still fragmentary, but they were beginning to come together like pieces of a puzzle.

“You were a pioneer,” said Zara, her voice now calmer, more like her own. “One of the first to explore the boundaries between worlds. But something went wrong.”

“The portal became unstable,” said Jake, the memory now clearer. “I was pulled through it, but not to one world – to many. My consciousness, my memories, were scattered across different realities.”

“And now you’re gathering them again,” nodded Zara. “Piece by piece, world by world.”

The sandstorm began to calm, the grains slowly descending to the ground, forming patterns on the temple floor – intricate mandalas that told the story of Jake’s journey. In the centre of the patterns, the sand formed a small object, glowing with a warm, golden light.

Jake knelt down and picked up the object. It was a compass, but not an ordinary compass. Instead of pointing north, the needle seemed to spin, searching, like a living thing trying to find its way.

“The Compass of Memory,” said Zara. “An artefact of great power in this world. It will help you find your way, not just through space, but through memories.”

Jake felt the weight of the compass in his hand, a reassuring heaviness. “Will it help me find my way home?”

Zara’s face grew more serious. “That depends on what you consider home, Jake. Your journey is not over yet. There are more worlds to visit, more pieces of yourself to find.”

Chapter 6: The Caravan of Lost Souls

Night had advanced far when they left the temple. The Forgotten Guardians had disappeared, retreated into the sand from which they had emerged. The ruins lay silent under the moonlight, their secrets hidden again beneath centuries of silence.

“We must find shelter for the night,” said Zara. “The desert becomes deadly cold after midnight.”

She led Jake to a small structure at the edge of the ruins, once perhaps a watchtower or a temple for a less important god. It offered shelter from the wind that now blew cold over the sand, a sharp contrast to the scorching heat of the day.

As they made a small fire from driftwood and dry bushes they had gathered, Zara told more about the Forgotten Desert.

“This world is a crossroads,” she explained. “A place where memories come together and mingle. Some travellers come here to forget, others to remember. Some stay forever, trapped in their own past.”

“Like the Forgotten Guardians?” asked Jake.

Zara nodded. “They were once people, travellers like you. But they got lost in memories that weren’t their own, forgot who they themselves were. Now they are nothing more than echoes, shadows of what they once were.”

Jake thought about what he had learned, about the memories he had recovered. “Elara,” he said softly. “She was important to me.”

“Yes,” said Zara, her voice soft. “She was your partner in the Erebus project, and more than that. She was the one who tried to save you when the portal became unstable.” “What happened to her?” asked Jake.

Zara looked away, her face half in shadows. “That is a memory for another time, another world.”

Before Jake could insist, they heard a sound in the distance – the soft jingling of bells, the creaking of wheels on sand. Zara stood up, alert.

“A caravan,” she said. “The Caravan of Lost Souls.”

They went outside and saw a long line of wagons moving slowly through the desert, illuminated by lanterns that gave off a ghostly blue light. The wagons were decorated with strange symbols and fluttering banners, and were pulled by animals that looked like camels but with longer necks and six legs.

“Who are they?” asked Jake.

“Seekers,” replied Zara. “People who travel between worlds, looking for lost memories, lost souls. They collect stories and sell them to those who have forgotten their past.”

The caravan stopped at the sight of their fire, and a figure descended from the front wagon. It was a tall, thin man with skin as dark as the night sky and eyes that shone like stars.

“Zara of the Sand,” he greeted her with a deep bow. “It has been a long time.”

“Nomad of the Night,” she replied with a nod. “You travel far from your usual routes.”

“The stars have guided me here,” he said, his gaze shifting to Jake. “And I see why. A traveller between worlds, a collector of memories.”

Jake felt uncomfortable under the intense gaze of the man. “How do you know that?”

Nomad smiled, a flash of white teeth in his dark face. “I deal in stories, stranger. I recognise someone who is seeking his own story.”

He produced something from his robe – a small, glass bottle filled with a liquid that sparkled like liquid silver. “A gift,” he said, offering it to Jake. “Water from the Source of Memory. Drink it when you are lost, and it will help you find your way.”

Jake took the bottle, feeling how the liquid inside moved like a living thing. “Thank you,” he said, not sure what else to say.

Nomad nodded and then turned to Zara. “The desert whispers of change,” he said softly. “The boundaries between worlds are growing thinner. The Erebus project has set more in motion than its creators could ever have foreseen.”

Zara’s face tightened. “Do you know something I should know, Nomad?”

“Only that time is short,” he answered cryptically. “The traveller must complete his journey before the last boundary falls.”

With those words, he bowed again and returned to his caravan. The wagons set in motion again, disappearing into the night like a dream upon waking.

“What did he mean?” Jake asked Zara when they were alone again.

“Nomad sees things others don’t see,” she said. “He travels not only between places, but also between times. If he says time is short, then we must pay attention to that.”

They returned to their shelter, but the peace from earlier was gone, replaced by a sense of urgency, of a clock counting down to an unknown but inevitable end.

Chapter 7: The Gate of Sand

Dawn came with an explosion of colours – the sky changing from deep indigo to fiery orange and gold, the sand dunes gleaming like molten metal in the early light. Jake and Zara stood outside their shelter, watching the sun rise over the Forgotten Desert.

“It’s time,” Zara said softly. “You must move on.”

Jake nodded, knowing that his time in this world was coming to an end. He had learned what he needed to learn here, had recovered a piece of himself that had been lost. But there were still gaps in his memory, pieces of the puzzle that were missing.

“Where am I going?” he asked. Zara pointed to a spot in the desert where the air seemed to shimmer, like heat above hot sand, but with a strange, pulsating quality. “The Gate of Sand,” she said. “A passage to the next world on your journey.”

They walked together towards the shimmering air. As they got closer, Jake saw that it wasn’t an ordinary mirage. The air seemed to fold and bend, forming an opening to… somewhere else. Through the opening, he could catch glimpses of another place – a world of darkness and winding tunnels.

“The Underground Labyrinth,” said Zara, following his gaze. “A world of paths and choices, of seeking and finding.”

Jake felt a mixture of excitement and fear. Each new world brought him closer to understanding who he was, but also closer to an unknown end.

“Will I see you there again?” he asked Zara.

She smiled, a hint of melancholy in her golden eyes. “I am always where you need me, Jake. Look for me in the darkness, and I will be there.”

She reached out to him and touched his cheek, her fingers warm against his skin. “Don’t forget what you’ve learned here. The power of memory is great – it can guide you, but also mislead you. Trust what you know, but be open to what you have yet to learn.”

Jake nodded, cherishing her touch. He took out the Compass of Memory and saw how the needle turned, eventually pointing towards the Gate of Sand.

“It’s showing me the way,” he said.

“It’s pointing you to where you need to be,” corrected Zara. “Not always where you want to be.”

Jake put away the compass, along with the small bottle that Nomad had given him. He took one last look at the Forgotten Desert, the endless dunes and the ruins in the distance, the remains of a civilisation that had perfected the art of remembering but was ultimately forgotten.

“Goodbye, Zara,” he said softly.

“Goodbye, Jake,” she replied. “And good luck in the Labyrinth.”

He stepped through the Gate of Sand, feeling how the world around him changed, warped, rearranged itself into a new reality. The heat and light of the desert faded, replaced by coolness and darkness.

Epilogue: The Darkness Waits

Jake opened his eyes in absolute darkness. Not a single ray of light pierced the blackness around him, so complete that he couldn’t even see his hand in front of his face. The air was cool and damp, with an earthy smell of moist stone and moss. He heard the soft dripping of water somewhere in the distance, a lonely, rhythmic sound in the silence.

He felt in his pockets and sensed the reassuring presence of the objects he had collected: the card with the tree symbol, the wooden figurine, the Crystal Heart, and now also the Compass of Memory and the bottle with the Water from the Source. Together they formed a tangible history of his journey, anchors in a sea of changing realities.

The Compass felt warm in his hand, and when he took it out, he saw that it emitted a soft, golden light – just enough to illuminate his immediate surroundings. He found himself in a tunnel of smooth, black stone, stretching in two directions, both disappearing into darkness.

The needle of the Compass turned, searching, and then pointed towards the left tunnel. Jake hesitated, looking from one tunnel to the other. In the desert, Zara had said that the Compass would point him to where he needed to be, not where he wanted to be. But in this darkness, without any other reference point, what was the difference?

He thought about what he had learned in the worlds he had visited. In the Silent City, he had learned about resistance to oppression. In the Magical Forest, he had discovered the power of life and growth. In the Ice World, he had learned about structure and emotional truth. And in the Forgotten Desert, he had found the power of memory.

Each world had given him back a piece of himself, a fragment of his identity. He was a scientist, a designer of the Erebus project. He had voluntarily stepped through a portal to travel between worlds. Something had gone wrong, and now he was scattered across different realities, collecting what had been lost.

And Elara… who was she exactly? His colleague, his partner, someone who had been important to him. Someone he had left behind when the portal became unstable. Someone he might be trying to find again.

With a deep sigh, Jake began to walk down the left tunnel, guided by the soft light of the Compass. The Underground Labyrinth awaited, a world of paths and choices, of seeking and finding. And somewhere in the darkness, he knew, Mandy was waiting for him in a new form, ready to help him take the next step in his journey.

The tunnel stretched out before him, a path to a new world, a new piece of the puzzle that formed his identity. And with each step he took, Jake felt stronger, more certain, more himself – whoever that might be.

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