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by risha Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E · Fiction · Mystery · #2344156

sequel to '' Alira and the city that forgot its name''

Using a lens she forged from mirror glass and sand from a dreaming dune, Alira found the entrance: a tear in a library wall where the books whispered backward. She stepped through.
This world was different. Silent. Silver fog hung over pale ruins, and names—once carved into buildings—had been scraped away, leaving only hollow echoes.
This was the City That Forgot Its Name.
Here, time didn't move forward or back. It looped. She saw shadows repeat their steps. Children reliving one moment over and over, unaware they were trapped. Names slipped from her mind like water through a sieve. Even her own.
But Alira had prepared.
She tied a string of memory charms to her wrist—each one infused with a memory she refused to forget:
• The taste of jam on toast.
• Her mother’s laugh echoing in a mirror hall.
• The sound of Orrin humming while fixing a pocket watch.
Each charm lit up when a piece of herself began to vanish. They held her mind together like thread stitching a story.
And in the city’s heart, inside a cracked dome of frozen thought, she found the Archivist—an ancient being made of paper and silence, who spoke in ink that poured across the floor.
“She remembers too much,” it rasped.
“And forgetting is how we survive.”
But Alira disagreed.
She opened her satchel and pulled out the Map of Memory Realms—now glowing with invisible paths and blinking with forgotten names. She whispered each one aloud, feeding the city its lost history. Names returned to doorways. Statues stood upright again. The bells rang the correct hour.
And the Archivist, instead of vanishing, bowed.
“You have done what no one else dared,” it said.
“You remembered everything.”
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