The True Meaning of A Warrior

Chapter Nine: All that Remains (ZARA)

We were offered to settle down on the Survivor Mansion and then explain everything in more detail to Mrs. Dreamcatcher. Stella's mother stayed quiet and still until the very end of the story, where she led to a sudden, and surprising outburst.

"Why, those terrible, treacherous people!" she declared, rising to her feet with blazing eyes. Her hands curled into fists so tight her knuckles turned a frothy white.

I cringed, not expecting her outcry.

"Yeah...we kind of figured that out a long time ago," Edera agreed, wincing as well. She, the families, and the Chosen Ones had agreed to stay as Stella explained the entire ordeal-in detail-to her mother, for agreement that Mrs. Dreamcatcher would give them a tour around the place.

Mrs. Dreamcatcher took several deep breaths to calm herself down before continuing, and when she did, she had already risen to her feet with a flourish, obviously much more calmed. "Okay, my end of deal time. I'll give you guys a tour around this place."

I sat up, my mouth rubbing into a yawn, and stretched my arms wearily. "Okay, sure." I was glad to be over the haunting stories about the past and to begin something...new. And hopefully better.

"Alright." Mrs. Dreamcatcher stood up, too, as did everybody else, stretching themselves after the long explanation. After stretching the stiffness out of me, I clambered to my feet, trying to look more bright and ready than sleepy and exhausted (even though I was mostly sleepy and exhausted). "Let's go," Stella's mother added, and turned her body gracefully around to face forwards.

We were currently in some kind of living room that the front door led straight into. The living room was decorated in not-so-elaborate dull wooden chairs, scattered around the room. A lichen-green rug, woven from grasses, and other plants, settled itself smack-dab into the middle of the room. There was a single rocking chair, which was actually quite impressively carved, and very detailed, flung with pillows stitched messily all over it. There was a pile of un-chopped wood waiting to be axed up lying near the front door of the Survival Mansion, dull and dark. There were a few axes carelessly flung in the pile of wood, and above the piles on the wall was pinned a paper. A checklist, I realized when I squinted towards it, but I was too far off to see anything else. The entire room was lit up by a very detailed and intricate chandelier made of stone, with candles burning bright all over the chandelier. It was really gorgeous.

To the right and left of the living room were winding hallways that were lit up with small, flickering scarlet lanterns and candles, but I didn't bother squinting into the dark abyss. And finally, if we looked straight forwards from where we were sitting and standing, there was a large, spiraling staircase that was made of shifting platforms of wood stairs.

"Let's head up the staircase, first," Mrs. Dreamcatcher offered, beckoning. Nods were passed around, and in a sort of zig-zagging line, we proceeded to climb up the stairs.

We headed upwards and upwards, I found myself amazingly close to the burnished and candle-lit chandelier. It was, by all means, purely impressive. But Mrs. Dreamcatcher just whisked by it as if it were nothing big, and led us to the very top of the stairs. At the second platform of the Survivor Mansion was instantly a long, dark hallway that greeted us, with only a few torches flickering warily scattered here and there. However, once I'd squinted into the darkness well enough, I made out...doors.

Hundreds of doors etched the never-ending hallway, each leading to a different mystery. Mrs. Dreamcatcher noticed our surprise and awe and smiled cheekily. "Each of these doors," she explained aloud, "leads to a different bedroom. See, all of these rooms are shared by a different family. However, since I didn't have you, Stella, when I moved in...I live in my room alone." She winced openly at this, and Stella gently touched her mother's arm.