Flight Of Fancy

CHAPTER 4: TRESPASS

I wake and find nothing but darkness and the moon shining through the window. Somehow it is still night, but I feel completely rested. I see a bright light peeking through the wardrobe. Carefully, I slink out of bed praying I don't wake my bed fellows as I step onto the floor and take a moment to ensure I've been as stealthy as I assume myself to have been. Not a sound.

I creep as quietly as I can across the room and stand before the wardrobe. I take hold of the handles and pull the doors open. I'm blinded by the intense light which envelopes everything inside the piece of furniture. I open my eyes and find that I still cannot see a thing. Placing all my trust in providence I thrust my hand into the intense light and wrap my fingers around something solid.

I pull that thing out of the light and close the doors to mute the light. I look upon my treasure and find a key, the same key I had hidden from view and placed in my pants pocket. I gaze upon the slumbering sisters and wait for a few minutes to be sure that the lumps under the blanket don't move. Satisfied, I go for the door, open it and slip outside into the dimly lit corridor.

I look at the path behind me and I can see thanks to the bright candles that hang from the walls at regimented intervals. I see a guard walking the other way, his spear-like weapon glinting in the light. He turns abruptly around and catches sight of me. For a moment he stands perfectly still, likely trying to discern whether or not I'm real, or just a product of his tired mind.

"Halt!" he shouts across the distance and holds his weapon at the ready.

I immediately turn about and start running. I'm not sure if this is merely a case of mistaken identity, but I'm not going to hang around to find out. I pump my legs as best as I can in my limited muscles, but it seems enough to keep me ahead of my pursuer, though I dare not look back to measure the distance between him and I.

We run through a myriad of halls and I have no idea where I am, or where I'm headed. All I know is I have to keep running. This causes me to completely ignore the bunched up carpet in front of me until I trip over it and go sprawling to the floor. I quickly recover and flash an eye to the twisting corridor where I can see the guard's shadow getting closer.

I think to run again, but to where? Can I possibly keep ahead of my pursuer indefinitely? Assuredly not. I take in my environment as quickly as I can and am nearly bowled over. I'm lying in front of Uriel's door. I waste no time as I scramble to the door and close myself inside. From here I wait with my ear to the door.

I can hear the guard approach. "Open up!" he bellows as he pounds upon the door.

I'm confused. Why doesn't he just open the door? It's not locked. Yet he continues to pound upon the obstacle as though it is the only means of gaining entry. I step away from the door which seems on the verge of splintering, but somehow returns to a solid state with each attack. It's very confusing.

I decide to focus my attentions elsewhere. The room is just as I had seen it earlier in the day and the moon pouring through the window gives it an eerie glow. I glance to the side, where it's shining the brightest and find the chest sitting there. Slowly, I close in. My legs endeavor to shuffle forward against the feeling of trepidation I'm feeling.

I reach into my pocket and find that it is filled with a slimy substance and no key. I pull my hand out and find a green ooze has completely covered it. I'm trying to figure out what is going on when a crazy idea pops into my head. I slather the stuff onto the lock. It sinks inside the mechanism and I can hear something moving. There is a loud click and the lock releases.

I pull the lid open and find the book inside. I lift it from its resting place and pull it open. I see the words before me but find that they swirl and become distorted, but not randomly. They're forming something though I can't quite make it out, but I will my eyes to pick up any patterns that may emerge from the strange body of words swirling in front of me.