Haunted by the Past: The Search for Solace in an Ancient Temple

Shattered Glass Heart

My boots scuff against the worn stone floor –

of the ancient temple.

The temple is stale,

thick with the scent of aged dust and forgotten prayers.

I run my hand over the intricate carvings that cover the walls,

the symbols etched into the stone like scars.

Outside,

the city of El'goroth sprawls,

a labyrinth of twisting alleys and cramped emporium.

The sounds of merchants hawking,

their wares and the clang of hammering –

on metal echo through the temple's halls.

My stomach growls,

reminding me I've skipped breakfast.

I stop in front of a large stone door,

adorned with symbols of the ancient ones.

The door is sealed,

locked away from prying eyes.

My fingers drum against my thigh,

a restless energy building in my chest.

A dimmed clamor comes from the dead of dark,

and a figure appears.

Theano, the temple's Keeper,

her eyes sunken,

her skin pale.

"You shouldn't be here,"

She sounds like the gentle lapping of waves on a still lake.

"I need to remember,"

I appear to be in urgency.

"I need to forget."

Theano's gaze slides away,

her eyes fixing on some point beyond my shoulder.

"You know the cost.”

My jaw clenches,

my teeth grinding together.

I do know the cost.

I've paid for it before.

The temple seems to shudder with friction –

as Theano reaches into the folds of her robe and produces a small,

delicate vial.

The glass is etched with fine lines,

like the threads of a spider's web.

My heart quickens as Theano hands it to me.

The vial is cool to the touch,

The weight of it is large in my palm.

I trace the etchings with my thumb,

feeling the slight ridges and grooves.

I raise the vial to my nose,

inhaling deeply.

The scent of spikenard,

hauntingly beautiful fragrance that conjures images of ancient, spiritual gardens,

and smoke wafts up,

transporting me to a different time,

a different place.

Memories begin to surface,

like bubbles rising from the depths of a stagnant pool.

My eyes close,

my mind replaying the events of that fateful day.

The sound of screams,

the smell of burning flesh,

the feel of my heart shattering like brittle glass.

My breath catches,

my chest constricting.

I open my eyes,

the temple's walls blurring around me.

Theano's face is a mask of concern,

her eyes filled with a deep sadness.

"Too much,"

I gasp,

the vial trembling in my hand.

Theano reaches out,

her fingers closing around the vial.

"Let it go,"

she says, well-versed.

My grip relaxes,

the vial slipping from my grasp.

Theano catches it,

her eyes freezing on my face.

The air seems to release its held breath,

the strain dissipating like mist in the morning sun.

My shoulders slump,

my body feeling rigid,

crammed.

Forgetting is a slow,

painful process.

But it's the only way to move forward.

As I turn to leave,

the temple's walls seem to close in around me,

the shadows deepening,

like dark,

grasping fingers.

I quicken my pace,

the sound of my boots echoing through the halls,

growing fainter with each step.

Outside,

the city's noise envelops me,

a tumult of sounds that threatens to consume me.

My eyes scan the crowded emporium,

my gaze snagging on a group of children laughing,

playing in the sun.

For a moment,

the weight of my memories recedes,

and I feel a spark of hope.

Maybe,

just maybe,

I can learn to forget.

Maybe I can find a way to move on.

But as I turn to make my way through the winding alleys,

the spark flickers,

dies.

Memories' dark gravity pulls me down once more,

a crushing burden that threatens to consume me.

My boots carry me forward,

one slow step at a time,

as I disappear into the labyrinthine city,

lost in the shadows of my own mind.

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