I couldn’t imagine anything else grander than the Hall of Memory. Angular pillars rose into the sky, framing the three dome-shaped structures carved from white stone. Gold, silver, and even the occasional copper intercity intertwined into each dome in a way that looked to be etched by gods. The whole thing glittered in the morning sunlight, so beautiful that I knew it had to be magic even if I had never seen it before. 

I must have been staring for longer than I thought because the next thing I knew, Papa's chest rumbled with amusement, and he pushed my open jaw shut. "You'll catch beast flies with that if you keep it up," he teased before pressing through the crowd. I tucked my chin in against my chest with embarrassment as he continued. "It is pretty amazing here, though," Papa admitted. "I remember when I first saw it back during my trial of memory. I probably had the same expression." Papa turned his head and smirked at me, then he pointed to a long line of parents and children near the furthest door, units of guards from the Hall of Memory around them to help keep order and hold the crowd back. "We'll go over there and get in line." 

I nodded, and Papa set me down once we made it through the worst of the blockade of people. He took my hand so we wouldn't lose each other. As we got closer to the line, a guard stopped us and asked to see our passes. Papa dug around in his worn coat, checking his pockets for a moment before he pulled out a rolled bit of parchment and handed it over. The guard studied it, then nodded before looking down at me, his gaze almost… bored. 

"Everything seems in order. Give me your hand, boy," he ordered, and after glancing up at my father for permission, I lifted my hand. 

The man grabbed it and turned my arm over to expose my wrist before gliding a rune-emblazoned stone across my skin. I yanked my arm back with a cry as runes of blue-blazed across my skin before they faded away. I gave the guard an accusing look before moving in a little closer to my Papa's side. 

The guard ignored me and repeated it with my father before addressing him. "The line begins over there.” He pointed. “The marking on your wrists will get you both inside for the trial and fade when you leave. If your son experiences recall within the building, a staff member will come to assist you and note it for the records. Please do not linger in the hall and continue through the marked displays as instructed. Do not stray from the walkways. Your trial will end, and a guard will escort you out. Is this understood?"

"Yes, guardsman," Papa confirmed with a respectful bow. I copied him, but mine wobbled a bit since I was trying to watch Papa out of the corner of my eye to make sure I was doing it right. "Thank you."

The guard huffed and moved on to the next parent and child pair while Papa led me over to the line, and we began our long wait. My hands went to clutch at my father's tunic, wrinkling the worn fabric in my fists, but he didn't seem to mind. It didn't take him more than a few minutes to strike up a conversation with another father of a little girl who looked as if she were about my age. I stared at her in silence since I wasn't the best at talking with strangers, watching her crane her neck to look around with interest. 

 She had blonde hair braided into a crown around her head that left most of it free to stream down her shoulders. The tunic she wore was a deep red, embroidered with white rose petals along the hem and across her waist like a belt. She looked pretty in it all, dressed for a special occasion. 

 It was leagues ahead of the simple green tunic I wore, faded and wrinkled from the trip here. I looked down at myself self-consciously, then around at other children, disheartened to see that most wore finner garments than me, and there were even a few nobles dressed in lavish grandeur. Everyone looked so nice for their trial of memory, but I couldn't say the same for us. 

I was picking at a stain from breakfast when the girl turned and caught sight of me, her blue eyes alight. "Are you here for the trial, too?" she asked, but before I could even nod, she laughed at herself. "Of course you are; I can see the rune on your wrist." Thrusting her own wrist out, she showed me hers. "I'm starting in the blue hall, too. I'm excited to find my past life. Oh, I bet you are too. Mother said she could tell I was someone important. Who do you think you'll be?"

I shrugged my shoulders, not having an answer, but she didn't seem to mind. I just stared at her as she continued to chatter at me, finding it hard to control my expression. Do all girls talk like this when they get excited? The only example I really had was Aleah, but she never kept up a conversation like this, answering her own questions. It was ridiculous. Was this one alright in the head? It would be rude if I asked…

"OH!" the girl exclaimed after a moment, sucking in a deep breath and offering her hand to me again. She was just bursting with energy. "That's right, I don't know your name. I'm Bria Gracy. It's nice to meet you."

"I'm R-," I began, but Bria’s father interrupted me to catch her attention. The line had moved while they were talking. 

"Come on, Bria," the man said, sounding less patient than my father ever was. "That's enough. Your trial is about to begin."

"Bye," I murmured, half-heartedly raising my hand to wave as her father dragged her after him. 

"Come on," Papa said, nudging my back. "We should get going too." 

The line flowed as people walked through the now open doors, staff splitting pairs between three different entrances depending on the markings on their wrists. As we passed, I held up mine as my Papa instructed. We followed our group through the furthest left door into a slowly curving hallway lined on either side with hundreds of small items arranged in neat rows nearly from floor to ceiling. Guards and staff lined either side every few feet, ensuring that no one tried to steal anything as the children searched for something that would trigger their recall. 

As we walked, I kept looking at everything, trying to take it all in. I tried just a little. I did, but nothing really stood out to me. Papa and even Eidke had explained what was supposed to happen when I saw something that belonged to my past life, how it was supposed to shimmer to my eyes alone and draw my attention. Despite that, nothing I saw was remotely interesting enough except for a display that looked like a sword attached to a false arm. I bet that would have been pretty cool to swing around. 

Minutes dragged into hours as we kept up the walk, back and forth, upstairs, through the maze that made up the Hall of Memory. As grand as it all was, the novelty of it was well and truly gone before we made it to the second of the Halls. I caught glimpses of the girl, Bria, and her father here and there, but they stayed ahead of us. They moved through the displays as if they had done it all before. Could you even come to this place more than once? Were you allowed to take a trial a second time? I couldn't say for sure.

"Now, I don’t want you to be disappointed that you have found nothing yet," Papa told me, taking my frown of confusion for being upset. "We still have most of this hall, and the next to go through, and at the end, there is a room full of silver nameplates with names and the essences of people magically tied to them. It has the same effect as the relics here."

I nodded and kept looking, my heart not really into it. Yeah, maybe I was a little disappointed, but not for the reasons my father thought. This entire thing, with the trial of memory, looking for something that was connected to a past life I may or may not have had, it all seemed like a deliberate show. I don't know, it just felt… like a waste of time. 

There had to be a better way of doing this, and it wasn't like anyone had a choice to go to these things. It was a requirement of every kid when they turned five. Even I could see that it was practically impossible to come in and find something that could have belonged to you in a past life. Even if most of the kids here were reincarnations, the odds weren't good that their lives were ever significant enough for people to bother collecting their possessions to place in this hall. Maybe my past life was one of them. It would mean I wouldn't have to worry about finding my past life at all. I didn't have to be afraid that I wouldn't be me anymore if I recalled or… that the gods would curse me with backlash like Eidke…

My feet stopped moving, and I lowered my gaze, staring down at my hands as I clenched them into fists to hide the fact I was shaking. That was it. That was the real reason I hadn't wanted to come, because coming here scared me. 

Against my will, my bottom lip quivered. I don’t want to be a baby, I thought, my eyes growing blurry as tears threatened to spill over. Sniffing, I hurried to rub my face, refusing to allow myself to be caught crying in the middle of this place with so many strangers around. Instinctively, my arms pulled in against my chest, and I clutched at the fabric of my tunic like I was clinging to Aleah's skirts again. Did anyone see?

Papa was so engrossed in viewing the relics, he didn’t notice when I wasn’t next to him anymore. He was all smiles, his eyes alight with anticipation as he turned this way and that, laughing as another child ran into him because she wasn’t paying attention. How could he be so relaxed here in this terrible place? I couldn’t understand it.

I don't want to be here…

Even as the thought entered my mind, I forced my feet to move and followed Papa. I sniffed, wiping quickly at my face to hide my shameful tears before he could notice them. I just wouldn't touch anything, even if I saw something. Papa didn't have to know, and I wouldn't get sick with backlash like Eidke. That fixed everything. Yet, a deep worm of guilt weeded itself into my belly at the thought that I would disappoint my Papa today. 

I lowered my eyes and kept walking, unable to bring myself to look at anything else, until a hand grasped my shoulder and gently shook me. "Rueln," Papa said, his gruff voice full of patience and understanding. "Don't let it disappoint you, son. You'll find something here. I know it."

That wasn’t it, Papa. I didn’t want to find anything. “Okay,” I replied, and hesitantly pulled my eyes up again, only to pause as we passed a roped-off hallway. The light was dimmer there, shadows clinging like spiderwebs to the walls. Despite that, it held all of my attention, more than any of the relics I’ve seen yet. Why did something down there feel so… familiar?

 My sudden stop caught my father off guard, and he moved past me only to slow and turn. "Rueln, this way, son. That’s off-limits. You heard the guard at the doors," Papa said, holding his hand out for me to take. 

I looked at his hand, then at the rope that separated me from the dark hallway, unable to explain why I wanted to leave the bright halls for that creepy-looking place. It just felt… like home. Pursing my lips, I reached for the rope, only for Papa's hand to wrap around my wrist and pull me away. "But—" I started, turning to look up at my father, who shook his head at me. 

"No," he said firmly. "We're not allowed. Now that's enough, Rueln."

Chastised, I nodded but couldn't help but look back once more before the dark hall was out of sight.