The Town of Forgotten Memories
t were bearing down on them for reasons unknown. Alex squinted against the harsh light, trying to make sense of the scenery, but the world around them seemed to blu
er, bordered by tall, looming trees that whis
ough the pain. Where am I? The question echoed in their mind, but no answer came. The world around them felt... unfamiliar, and yet, the road, the trees, the smell of th
avy in the air, oppressive, like the whole world was holding its breath. The road ahead was cracked and faded, as though it hadn't been traveled in years. The fog-thin but persistent-clung to the e
ure bathed in the harsh sunlight. She was tall, slender, with long, flowing hair the color of honey that shimmere
r voice sweet and soothing, a
, like it had always belonged to them but had been buried beneath the fog of forgotten m
if she were speaking to a child. She took a few tent
rying to steady their t
In the distance, they could make out a small cluster of houses, but there was no sign of life. The place felt abandoned, unto
the answer should have been obvious. "I'm Eleanor. Ellie." She smiled, a smile that
i
d reeled, struggling to grasp the enormity of her words. Wife? Was she telling the truth? The
shaky, but Ellie stepped closer, reaching
w too comforting. Too right, as though it had always been there. Yet something inside them reco
y, pulling Alex gently towa
thout question, as if the word had power, as if it could somehow make everything fall into place. Ellie smiled again, a smile that held secrets just beyond the
down the road, the distant houses growing closer with every step. They felt a pull, an
fore, though there was an undertone of something Alex couldn't quite pl
e through the mist. There was an odd stillness to the place, as if time had stopped entirely. The air
but Alex couldn't shake the feeling that it was leading
ispered, her voice growi
ettle in. Something was wrong. Alex could feel it deep in
ood, the place they were walking toward, was unfamiliar, and the weig
d. The road ahead was long. I