Page 78 of The Alien in the Archive

29

THORNE

There’s been a strange and unexpected side effect of writing my own history: remembering things I hadn’t realized I’d forgotten.

The pages of my Borean Chronicle sit open on the desk, half-filled with memories that seem to emerge from nowhere. Some are vivid–faces, voices, moments frozen in time. Others are hazy impressions, shadows flickering at the edge of my consciousness.

I’ve been so full of self-loathing that I’m not sure if I was able to remember the first victims of Borealis, those who lived on other continents…then those who failed to recognize the grand design of the Borean Empire, who pushed back against it.

There was a moment before it all went wrong when we could have stopped it.

We didn’t.

For centuries, I’ve wandered the stacks without thinking much of their design. The architecture is a seamless blend of styles, ancient and alien, with spiraling columns and intricate carvings. There’s so much clutter on the shelves thatsometimes it’s easy to forget the Obscuary is made of something other than books.

But today, I wander. Alone and unafraid, I move deeper into the Obscuary.

Here, the ceilings stretch impossibly high, at times disappearing into darkness, while the floors shift into stone so smooth it feels like walking on glass. This place has always had odd qualities, a palimpsest of centuries, of languages, cultures. And this…it’s familiar. If I look only at the floor, I can imagine myself walking the halls of the Boreal Academy.

It wasn’t until recently—until Page—that I began to notice the patterns. Merati gold, Skoll stone, Borean frostglass. A union of disparate cultures, aimed at the same goal: learning.

I stop dead in my tracks, and a path is illuminated in my memories from a time when there wasn’t quite as much dust in the halls, grime on the skylights. When voices mingled before translators, when we taught each other our languages.

I was one of them, wasn’t I? One of the scholars who dreamed of creating a sanctuary for knowledge, a place where the secrets of the universe could be preserved and shared. But something went wrong. The memories are still fragmented, but I know this much. I wasthere.

And when I came here, fleeing my own planet, it was because I’d been here before.

“Thorne?”

I come back to myself, realizing I’ve been sitting in my chair this entire time, daydreaming. Page’s voice pulls me back into the moment, and I turn to see her standing in the entry to my alcove when I didn’t even realize she’s opened it. A skylight behind her has her short hair glowing like a halo around her, eyes glimmering faint silver.

Stunning.

Sometimes, there’s no other way but to describe her with poetry. I am, in fact,hopelessly tangled in her.

“You…when did you get here?” I ask.

“Just now, but the bookcase was already open. I figured it was an invitation.”

I glance down at Ashlan, who did very little to protect our home.

Traitor.

Page tilts her head, studying me. “What’s going on? You look…off. Are you okay?”

I let out a disbelieving laugh, though my smile fades quickly. She looks genuinely concerned, and I need her to know that I’m fine…but I also need to follow the path from my mind.

“I remembered something,” I say, standing up and taking her hand. “Something important. Will you come with me?”

Page hesitates a moment, her thoughts whirling around me, and I remember our last conversation:This is the last time you’ll leave this room without being well and thoroughly fucked.I take her chin and look into her eyes, and she swallows hard.

“I don’t make promises I don’t intend on keeping,” I murmur. “But it needs to wait. Later…later, I’ll give you everything you’ve been craving.”

She lets out a harsh breath, then nods. “Lead the way.”

We go back through the bookcase door and close it behind us, then we move into the depths of the Obscuary.

Ashlan scampers ahead, his glow illuminating the path. The light dances over discarded papers, vines erupting from beneath the floor, more and more clutter. We’ve walked here before—this is where I taught her to fly, where I guided her toward the Labyrinth—but now…it sparks something. Distant memories.

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