Over time her work earned her great respect and renown. The towers became her home and the mollusks her companions. She collected each and every one fallen to the ocean floor. Their shells were hers, just as their stories were hers.
In one of her towers, many leagues under the sea, there was a vault that few were permitted to enter. This was where they were kept; a multitude of shells, containing an innumerable collection of stories.
Past the threshold of this dark and solemn place, the air was still with anticipation, and the world was forgotten. It was here that the girl spent most of her time, eyes closed, patiently waiting.
She called this place The Archives.
In her time she had seen more of the world than she had ever imagined possible. Her miniature companions had done their work well, not only for herself, but for her people as well. Their silent whispers opened hidden doorways to pockets of the universe with much left still to be explored. But she was an old woman now, and that journey was best left to those more able.
There was only one mystery remaining she felt eager to solve – the nameless relics that gave birth to this forgotten place.