The girl crept through the dark room, glancing furtively about before returning her attention to the book that lay on a stone pedastal, lit by the only light in that dark, dark place - a shaft of moonlight coming through a circular hole in the middle of the ceiling. The girl looked up at the hole and smiled. Nothing but light could get through it. She reached out a hand and touched the book with awe, reverence even. The book was bound with a hard black substance that could only be dragonskin, reinforced by black metal, with a clasp that was locked with a silver lock. The lock had seven tiny keyholes. The girl thought how lucky she was to know that only one key was needed, and to know where to take the key from. Her thought was cut off as she shivered. It was cold, here in the heart of the mountain. Yet she could wear only the thin white dress. The magic that governed this place allowed only the dress, which was both loose and fitting, which flowed around her ankles, tightened to her wrists, and encircled the base of her neck. Nothing else. No underclothes, no socks, no shoes, not even something to restrain her hair, which tumbled unchecked to the middle of her back. Nothing could be brought, save for the key, which she clutched in her left hand. She opened her hand, and gazed at the key, glistening silver in the moonlight. The word TRUTH was etched onto the body of the key. She moved the key towards the lock and stopped, hesitant. The Book of Black Memories...those memories were not hers, she couldn't...no. There was no turning back. She turned the key in each keyhole, and the lock sprang picked up the book and sat on the pedastal. She took off the lock, opened the clasp, and took a deep breath. Once upon a time, she thought sarcastically to herself. And she opened the book.