I’m not sure how long I cried there, collapsed against the door to the archive of memory, but he remained with me all the time. I finally began to regain my composure and he offered me his hand, lifting me to my feet. Together, we looked out on an open landscape.

“We’re here,” he said.

We had reached the top of mind, but the black mist had done its work here too. The sky was a pallid and overbearing grey like stone threatening to fall and crush me, the ground was hidden from view by the dense fog making every step unsure, the garden of ideals I nurtured was withered, and the playful thoughts that would wing their way through the sky and graze in the meadows were gone. In the midst of it all stood a tall tower.

“We need to get up there,” he said, pointing to the top of the structure.

I knew that tower well, it was where I sat and watched my thoughts as they lived and interacted with each other. Some might say I spent too much time there and sometimes, after realizing I’d neglected to water my garden again, I’d agree. But this tower was drastically different from the one I knew; the stones were crumbling and portions of it had collapsed and fallen away. It was also overgrown with brambles in places. He and I stepped out into the fog and an eerie sound began to play upon my ears.

“Do you hear that? I asked.

“I do,” he answered. “There are whispers in the fog.”

Sure enough, as we got closer to the tower, the words became more and more clear.

Just quit…

You can’t…

You’ll never…

“They’re very distracting,” I said, trying to tune the voices out.

“You’re fortunate,” he said. “If we had come straight here and not made our way through the other rooms first, these whispers would have been screams.”

I shivered. The thought alone was jarring. “So there’s a shortcut here?” I asked.

He looked at me, then back at the tower. “Yes, but I’d never recommend it. Some people find it by accident, or are told where it is by others, only to be overcome by the screams and lose their Hope in the fog here. They spend a lifetime fumbling around looking for it on their hands and knees while the screams drive them insane.”

I gripped my own Hope tightly.

Finally at the foot of the tower I looked upward; somehow, the tower seemed suddenly immense and I took a step backward to keep myself from falling.

“Are you ready?” he asked.

“No,” I said, suddenly feeling a bit overwhelmed. “I need more time to prepare.”

He smiled. “You’ve done all the preparation you need to. All that’s left is to start.”

“What if I fall?” I asked.

He laughed openly at my question. “You should be asking me, ‘What should I do when I fall?’ Just keep your head, don’t get discouraged, and try again.”

I smiled in spite of how I felt and Hope glowed a little brighter in my hands. I stepped forward and began to ascend the spiral staircase that coiled around the tower. It wasn’t long before I encountered my first real obstacle where the staircase had, in part, fallen away. I decided that the stones closer to the center of the tower would be more stable and pressed my back against the wall, carefully edging my way around the gap. As I came out onto stable stones on the other side I breathed a sigh of relief.

“Well done,” he said. “Keep going.”

I nodded and, with victory on my mind, increased my pace up the staircase. As I hastily circled around another bend, a bramble caught my ankle sending me tumbling onto my stomach and causing me to lose Hope. The orb went bouncing back down the staircase and I scrambled to me feet to chase after it. When I finally laid hands on it again I found myself back at the first obstacle, all my progress undone.

“Looks like complacency caught up to you,” he said.

I leaned against the wall to catch my breath. “Yes. Now I’ve got to take those steps all over again.”

“Don’t worry,” he assured me. “You’ve learned a valuable lesson.”

I calmed myself and began the climb again, carefully; at least I knew these steps were solid aside from the snares of the brambles. As I passed the place where I’d tripped I came across another place where the stairs had mostly fallen away. Again I decided the best course would be to pass on the inside where the stones would be the most stable. I took a step onto the narrow edge, then another, and looked down into the fog. Suddenly, the stones where I stood gave way and I went tumbling down, landing heavily on the broken stones below. Now back in the midst of the fog, the whispers attacked my ears, but even in my pain I didn’t let go of Hope. I rose to my feet and made my way back to the start of the staircase.

“You did well not to lose Hope when you landed,” he said.

“Thank you,” I said. “The whispers did their best to keep me down but the light of Hope held them back.”

“Are you ready to begin again?”

“Yes.”

I again started to ascend the staircase. knowing what I already did, I easily passed the first obstacle and avoided the snares of the brambles until I reached the point where I’d fallen. As I examined the gap I decided my best option was to leap over, but I would need to go father than expected to avoid any loose stones on the edge. I took my stance, gripped Hope tightly, and leapt as far as I could over the rift. The stones held where I landed and I knelt down to insure I didn’t lose balance. When I was ready, I stood up and looked back where I came from with cheer in my heart before continuing the climb. The next section of stairs was treacherous not because of lose stones or missing steps, but because the brambles had taken over.

I couldn’t see the steps beneath them and they covered the wall in a dangerous blanket of thorns. I walked carefully upward, not wanting to be tripped up again, until I found the next gap in the staircase I’d need to surmount. Looking out over the landscape I could see I was already very high up, maybe even near the top, and the thought gave me strength. Unfortunately, I couldn’t hug the wall here as I had done for the first obstacle because of the thorns and the gap was too wide for me to jump without a running start. Could I find a running start? I asked myself. Looking down at my feet, and the winding brambles, I didn’t have high hopes for that proposition. I took a few steps back and tried to crush the brambles under my feet to make a path. Breathing deeply I psyched myself up and started my dash toward the gap. Sure enough, the brambles slipped underfoot and as I jumped I knew I wouldn’t make it. I reached one hand out and tried to catch the edge of the staircase to pull myself up but I wasn’t strong enough and slipped off.

I tumbled through the air a long way and landed hard on the broken stones down below. I shouted out in pain and, in shock, lost my grip on Hope; it rolled away into the fog. Without the light of Hope keeping them at bay the whispers flowed into my ears, taking advantage of my weakened state.

You’re worthless. Look how far you’ve fallen.

You’ll never pass that gap. It’s better to just lie here and die.

“Can you hear me?”

You never had a chance in the first place. Even taking one step was a mistake.

Everyone is going to find out you failed. You’ll be ridiculed.

“Get up!”

Through the whispers I could faintly hear his voice in the midst of the others.

You’ll be the laughing stock of your so-called friends and family.

How pitiful.

“Follow the sound of my voice!”

With my head pounding I managed to get to my hands and knees and crawl away from the pile of stones.

Look at you crawling like a mangy dog. It’s fitting.

“This way! Keep going!”

For you to think you could be anything better is astounding.

I focused in on his voice and let it lead me. In that moment I was so thankful, thankful that the whispers weren’t any louder as he had told me before.

Lay down and die.

Just die.

“You’re almost there!”

Die.

I looked up and saw the glow that I knew and crawled into the light of Hope. I wrapped myself around the golden orb and hugged it tightly as the whispers drained out of my mind.

“You’re alright now,” he said.

“I was so scared,” I said with tears in my eyes.

“I know. Everyone gets scared,” he said. “Take what time you need.”

I did, and when I was ready, he helped me to my feet. I again approached the tower and made my way up past the first two gaps and on to the third. I stood there for a while, thinking about how far I’d fallen and how painful that fall was.

“What’s the plan this time?” he asked.

“No more pain,” I answered.

He smiled. “Sometimes that’s just not possible.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, sometimes you have to bear a little pain now to avoid a lot of pain later.”

I considered his words and looked around again at the problem before me. Clenching my fist I approached the blanket of thorns covering the inner wall of the staircase and reached out, pausing only for a moment, grabbing a bundle of the sharp brambles. The stinging barbs dug into my skin as I coiled the vines tightly around my arm. With blood dripping down my elbow I used the vines as a rope and stepped up onto the wall, suspending myself over the chasm. Carefully, I made my way across the gap and set foot on the other side. I looked down at my arm and smiled; these pinholes would heal in a short time but, more importantly, I had made it.

“Well done,” he said. “Come on, you’re nearly there.”

I continued on to the top of the tower and finally stood on the precipice overlooking the land. I approached the stand which would hold the Hope I had carried all the way from the back of my mind. The stand would amplify the light of Hope and bathe the countryside with its golden rays.

I turned to him. “Thank you for all your help,” I said, hugging him.

He smiled. “I was happy to do it.”

I walked to the stand and placed Hope securely upon it. Suddenly, a light shot up through the center of the tower, and struck Hope. Then the tower began to be rebuild itself, each fallen stone returned to its place, and the brambles receded and disappeared. The light then exploded out from Hope and arched across the sky, blanketing the countryside in golden hues. I walked to the edge of the tower and watched as the fog was pushed back, the playful thoughts returned to the meadows, and the sky changed from stony gray to a bright blue.

---

Meanwhile, deep in the archive of memory, all the way down on subbasement three, something stirred.