At first glance, the room was identical to the one Credence had just left.

There were objects littered about, with glowing images moving inside of them.

But these, Credence quickly guessed, were not memories.

They contained scenes that had never come to pass.

The fantasies and dreams, both light and dark, of Ajo's mind.

She peered into the first of them.

There was a lake surrounded by lush vegetation and buzzing insects. In the center of the water stood a young couple, Galeia and Oliver. Oliver said something that made Galeia giggle, and she playfully splashed water at him. He embraced her and touched their foreheads together, whispering words that could not be heard, before pulling her into a kiss.

It was an incredibly private moment, but Credence felt a tender warmth seeing her parents so happy. They carried that same love throughout the years, as strong as it was here, and never dimmed in their affection.

Oliver touched his wife's face and Galeia ran her fingers through his hair.

Why was this scene here? Where was its creator? Credence searched the trees until she found him sitting inside the thick brush.

Ajo glared at the couple with dark jealousy.

And longing.

When the couple kissed, Ajo brought his fingers to his lips. 

The sound of splashing pulled Credence's attention back to the pond.

The scene had changed.

Galeia was smiling at Ajo, who had taken Oliver's place. His arms were wrapped around her, and when he leaned in for a kiss Galeia did not shrink away, but returned his affection with passionate fervor.

Credence looked back to the place Ajo had been watching from, but it was empty. This was his fantasy, an atrocious twist of the truth, and in it there was no jealous spy. Credence turned from the picture, but on her first step a twig broke beneath her foot.

A snap echoed over the water.

"What's that?" Galeia asked, breaking the kiss.

Credence held her breath and tried to remain as still as possible. She'd been heard—how?

What would happen if they saw her?

"It's nothing, my love," Ajo answered. "Kiss me again."

Credence could not stand to watch a second more, so she left the fantasy and moved to the next.

The images behind the green door continued in the same fashion. Many of them were deviations from the truth, fantastical counterparts to real memories, where Ajo got everything he ever desired.

Galeia on her wedding day, standing next to her groom, Ajo.

Ajo kneeling before a pregnant Galeia with his ear against her stomach. They laughed when his child kicked from within its mother.

The further Credence moved into the room, the more grim the images became. They turned from scenes of romance into depictions born of anger and vengeance. These focused on hurting Galeia rather than winning or cherishing her love.

Credence had no interest in these, and she was not halfway through them before she fled the awful room.

***

Credence paused before the final door.

Its charred and scratched exterior did not encourage her entry, and she had purposefully saved it for last, wanting to avoid whatever lay behind for as long as possible.

Something unpleasant lurked there, she knew.

You have to go through, her mind urged. Or you'll always wonder.

The room behind it was dark, like the maw of a waiting predator. There were no memories or dreams, but a single orb of white floated near the ceiling, casting an eerie, short-reaching glow.

Below it, barely touched by the light, was a statue of a woman with a stoic expression and one hand stretched in offering. When Credence approached the statue she noticed thin cracks running through the woman's face. Inside her extended hand was another orb, but this one did not glow. It was made of polished obsidian, which reflected the viewer's face on its surface.

Credence gasped when she realized the statue was Galeia—but she did not look the way she had in Ajo's memories.

This was the woman Credence knew, the one who raised her.

Not Galeia, but Ma.

Her eyes fell to the black orb in the statue's hand.

Was it a memory or fantasy? Without a moving image inside there was no way to tell.

Credence reached out to touch it—

"Have a care, child," said a low voice, "or you might find something you're not ready to face."

The cry of bells rang under the warning.

Credence jumped back, believing the statue had spoken, but its lips remained as unmoving as the stone that formed it.

"Are...are you—"

"Behind the statue."

Credence moved past the statue and her heart fluttered.

The Queen—the real Queen—was on the floor, encumbered by a mass of thorned vines. Hundreds of bells dangled from the vines, exactly like the ones around the Collector's ankle, and just like their counterpart, many were bent to dig into their wearer. The Queen was held tightly in her confinement, and could neither stand nor lay down, but remained in a perpetual grovel.

"Your majesty," Credence said with a shocked gasp. "Is it really you?"

"You've found me at last. I would greet you formally, but..."

She strained to stand and groaned when thorns and metal dipped into her.

Credence rushed to her side and tried to pull the vines away. It was no use, for they clung to the Queen like a second skin, and every touch from Credence sent pain rattling through her.

"How can I help you?" 

"You can't."

"Ajo will free you—"

"No," the Queen said with a shake of her head. "He knows I'll have his blood if I am released."

"He promised," Credence argued. "If he doesn't, I will not marry him."

The Queen's look was not comforting.

"You accepted his proposal?"

"After certain obligations are met. Freeing you is one of them."

"Bargains and deals. No, Credence, that is a terrible reason to agree to marriage."

"That's not the reason. He loves me...and I love him."

The Queen's eyes were feral. "That beast is not capable of love."

This Queen was different from the one Credence had spoken to in Ajo's world.

And different from the mother Credence had watched through Ajo's memories.

This Queen was overtaken by bitterness, and it made Credence hesitant to trust her.

"What should I do?" Credence asked.

"You should run."

"I thought you would be glad to hear that the promise will be fulfilled."

"Why?"

"Because Ajo and I have found honest love."

"He seduced you, child. He is powerful, but that does not make his love true. The only honesty has been here, locked in this tomb. But you wanted a happy ending, didn't you? Wanted it so badly you were willing to find it anywhere."

"He deserves to be happy. After all he's been through—so much suffering. You told him you would always have a place in your heart for him."

"For the memory of him, yes. But why would I push you into his arms after all I did to keep you away? I'm here because I wanted the opposite."

Credence bit the inside of her cheek.

"Ajo has changed," she countered weakly. "He's a good man."

"That's not Ajo. That's a shell. A shell who thinks that by forgetting he can wash away everything he's done. But that's not true, and you know it."

Credence's gaze dropped to the floor.

"I do not blame you for trying to see the good in him. You've known such horror, of course you would dream of peace. Of course you would cling to joy when given the chance, even if it was a façade. I daresay you've earned a bit of happiness, but you will not find it here. You will not find it with the shell of my son."

The Queen hissed as a thorn dug into her neck.

"You cannot marry that, Credence. And Ajo cannot be allowed to go unpunished. He must pay for his sins, not run from them, and own the monster he's become."

Resentment rose in Credence. She had seen Ajo's life, how he'd been betrayed and hurt. And after all of it, he had shown that he still had the capacity to be gentle. To change for the better. He had done shocking things, but he was not the only guilty one. The Queen had not lived his torment, so she'd never understand how difficult it was for him—how he battled to regain a sliver of hope.

No one could know how such struggle tore into one's soul.

No one but Credence.

"Ajo told me to be cautious of you, that you would not be kind. He was right, and you are wrong about him. He's not a monster, and I know he loves me."

"And which version of him told you so? Certainly not the real one. You were never bound by love, but by revenge. How can you not see that? How can you witness his crimes and still be so in the dark? You cannot trust his devotion, and you cannot save him. Not even the promise he made with Galeia had the capacity for that."

"Perhaps it was more than a promise that brought us together. I've been betrayed by those I love, too."

"No, you are not like him."

"I was hurt. I was lost and alone. Until I found him."

"You mustn't let your heart be captured by a monster—"

"He's your son."

"My son is dead."

The Queen's words were cold and blunt, but they did not sway Credence's mind. Instead, they grew a great pity for Ajo.

His own mother hated him, just as the rest of the world did.

"It does not please me to tell you these things," the Queen continued. "But it is necessary, for I believe you are about to make a grave mistake."

"Ajo and I share the same pain," Credence said sternly. "How sad that I should know him better than you."

"I'm afraid you will find in the worst way that you are wrong."

"Love is never wrong."

"You think it cannot be used to inflict pain?"

"Love is the most noble path we could choose to walk. You gave up your son, and so did Galeia. I choose to love him. There is destiny and there is choice, and sometimes they are the same thing. I trust myself and the decisions I make. I made a promise, and I will be the first to keep it. "

"And that makes you noble?"

"It makes me better than Galeia. It makes me better than you, too."

"Does Ajo deserve that?"

"Yes, he does. If you will not bless our union...it's for the best that you remain in this vault."

The Queen's eyes narrowed. "You do not mean that."

"You threaten the king."

"Your first act as queen will be to punish another? A bad omen. It was Ajo's first act as ruler, too."

Credence knew she had misspoken.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, embarrassed. "I would never keep you here. Please forgive my lack of kindness, it's just—"

"You've been shown so little of it yourself."

"Yes. Ajo...was the first in a long time to value my presence. That is why I'm so provoked by unkind words for him. But you are right, he is not without fault."

She carefully pulled a thorn from one of the vines. The sharp point pricked her finger, bringing a dot of blood from her skin. 

"I don't want to be wicked," Credence muttered to herself.

"Galeia wrestled with those same worries. I will tell you what I told her: It's in your blood, but not what controls you."

"She encouraged kindness."

"Because she had much to answer for. But her love was not an offense, though it took me many years to understand that. I believed her greatest sin was betraying Ajo. Galeia made many mistakes, but marrying that man was not one of them."

"You don't hate him? Or humans?"

"She would never know it, but I watched Galeia's family as it grew. I came to see that your father loved his wife as fiercely as she did him. He once promised he would cherish her until his last breath, and he was right." The Queen smiled. "And their children are beautiful. How could I hold hate for such a thing?"

"When Isolam told Ma you forgave her, she cried."

"I wish I had been with her in the end. But she made the most of her life with her family. Her true loves. I know she never regretted any of it."

"Even in the end?"

"Even in the end." The Queen looked at the statue. "But if you desire proof...there it is."

Credence frowned as her gaze turned to the black orb in the statue's hand.

It dawned on her what this final room contained.

The memory that needed to be kept alone. The worst of Ajo.

"The night he took her life was the night Ajo truly died," the Queen said. "Galeia hurt him, yes, but he did something irreversibly monstrous. He killed his heart that night. That is why I fear for you, Credence, for what could he possibly have left to give?"

Credence approached the orb. Its shiny surface gave no hint of the mystery inside.

One last memory. One final test.

Her fingers brushed across the smooth stone and the vault dissolved around her.

***

The remains of Ma's home were scattered about.

The barn and house had been crushed into nothing, while a dozen fires fed from the nearby rubble.

Ma's dress was caked in mud and old blood, and she sported more than a few wounds. She was sitting on an unfamiliar rock in the yard, looking tired but focused.

Staring directly at Credence.

Could Ma see her? No, Credence realized, Ma was looking at someone else, and Credence was not viewing this memory as an outsider like she had with all the others—

She was participating. In this instance, she was Ajo.

She could feel the heat of the fires around her, and the nighttime breeze that blew between Ma and her company. Fear clutched Credence's heart, and she instantly regretted touching the orb. She wanted to escape, but could not pull away.

She was trapped in Ajo's memory.

When Ma spoke, her voice was exactly the way Credence remembered it.

"I wanted to tell you that I was sorry. I don't think I've ever said it before, or at least...I don't know if I truly meant it. I am sorry for the pain I caused. I'm sorry that you are...this. I accept my part in it. I'm ready to answer for my mistakes."

A wave of shame passed through Credence, but she could not tell if it was her own making or Ajo's. She felt her mouth open to speak but heard no words.

Ma's brow creased as she listened to a reply Credence could not hear.

"She is not me, she is Credence. And not for anything, not for my life, would I see her forced down a path she did not choose."

Ajo answered and Ma shook her head.

"What need do you have for her when the one who caused your suffering sits here?"

Credence's viewpoint was raised as Ajo stood to tower over Ma. He said something that made her eyes flash with anger.

"I've a part to play yet," Ma snapped and her hands began to glow with blue light.

She stood, and her expression was the picture of courage.

From the corners of her vision, Credence saw long tendrils reach out and wrap around Ma's waist. They pulled her into the air and several more slender arms slithered to hug her body.

The final one encircled her neck.

Ma spat blood into Credence's eyes. A tendril smeared it away.

"You'll never find her. You can burn the whole forest to the ground—"

Ajo interrupted and Ma's expression fell into horror. A groan escaped her lips as the tendrils tightened and shortened her breath.

"Please," Ma rasped. "Let me see her one last time."

Ajo leaned down to her ear, so close that Credence could see a strand of gray in Ma's hair, but she did not hear what was spoken.

Ajo pulled away.

A trail of reddish drool left Ma's mouth.

Credence could feel Ma's body in her hands. The wet of her tears and blood. Her quickened pulse.

Her death was not quick.

Credence could do nothing to stop it.

With her final breath, Ma uttered a single word:

"Credence."

Credence felt the bones beneath Ma's skin shatter. The crunch that followed was like a boom of thunder.

The light in Ma's eyes was gone.

Credence watched it dim, and the agony of such an act forced a scream from her throat—but no sound came out when Credence released it.

Instead, Ajo's voice fell from her lips.

"Galeia?"

An eerie feeling filled the air. Something wasn't right.

The tendrils lowered Ma's body to the ground before slinking out of sight. Credence's knees buckled under her.

Fear. Despair.

It overwhelmed Ajo, and Credence suffered every stab of it with him.

"No...no...no, no, no..." Ajo's voice trailed into a sob.

His hand touched Ma's cheek.

"My love...my love..."

He begged her to show any sign of life, but the woman lay motionless with her gaze fixed on the stars.

He lifted her into his arms and wept into her neck.

Credence discerned that the eerie feeling was the effect of magic—this memory was tampered with. It was no longer a true recollection, but a blending of reality and fantasy.

Ajo killed Galeia. That was real.

But he had not stopped to hold her as he did now.

He had not mourned her.

Immense guilt coursed from Ajo into Credence.

Every moment after Galeia died was nothing but a painful regret, a dream of how he wished things had been.

And it was more agonizing than any torture he'd experienced before.

Ajo cursed himself and the world, and as torment overtook him it bled into Credence until their misery became one.

Together, they mourned the dead woman.

As the memory faded, Credence's consciousness went with it.

She fell into the darkness, welcoming its merciful embrace.