The Red Candle

Chapter Six

We went to an area which was totally spacious enough. It was a living room, with the couches stood from corner-to-corner of the room. A lamp shade stood that enlightened the area, and in the middle of the blank space of the floor was a large black carpet. That place was also dark, like her dining room, yet there were a dozen candelabras encircled within the carpet. Their light wasn't lit up yet. There was a television, a clock, and a window where all I can see was the hazy clouds on the night sky. I didn't realize how long I was out of consciousness. It was only then when I checked my phone and saw grandma's text messages and a few missed calls from her. I was about to reply to her messages when Simoune interrupted me and said, "Phones away, my dear."
I obeyed and slid it inside my pocket. Simoune took a match box and began lighting the candles. The candles. I was nervous that once they turned red, it meant only one thing.
"We will be communicating with them." Simoune said."
"And by what?" Lucy asked. "Are you sure that this is safe?"
"Just follow what I do. We'll be alright."
Lucy nodded and glanced at me. I saw the worries in her eyes, so I held her hand.
"It'll be okay, Lucy. And I'm sorry for dragging you into this situation."
She shook her head and replied. "No, I'm more worried about you. Are you sure you'll be alright?"
"Yeah, I will be."
Simoune has finished lighting up the candles. She made us sit and encircle together within the circle of candles. "These candles will protect us when the spirits try to harm us. As long as we're inside it, and as long as it has its light. We will be safe."
We sat together, held each other's hand, and closed our eyes. I felt the warmth of Lucy's hand while Simoune's hand was strangely cold. The spiritualist took a deep breath and spoke. "We speak to you, oh highest queen. The royal Dolora Windister, and the truthful council of the New Mandriom. We speak to you and come with us."
There was a moment of stillness, until a cold breeze brushed our faces. My ears heard the eerie whispers of the wind and I got gooseflesh. My heartbeat started to race, but I kept still. Lady Simoune was here to protect us. None of us three spoke, until I heard the familiar deep voice of a woman. The one which I heard before I passed out in the museum.
"A descendant of Al'Dor."
"Who are you? Are you Queen Dolora?"
The voice laughed hideously.
"What do you want from us? Stay away from my family and I!"
"Open your eyes, young one."
I kept my eyes closed, my thoughts being suppressed by fear as it consumes me.
"Open your eyes..." She repeated, yet I did not open my eyes. It might be a trap.
"Sandra, the spirit wants to talk with you." I heard lady Simoune's voice. "You must not make a spirit impatient."
I took a deep breath and opened my eyes. From then, I was no longer with Simoune and Lucy. My eyes were astounded as I saw a woman sitting before me. I was no longer sitting on the floor, finding myself before a table with lavish meals served on it, and a candelabra of three red candles. At first, the woman's face was blurred. I glanced around, and there was nothing but absolute darkness. It was only I, and this woman, facing each other on a table as if we were having dinner together. Once my eyes peered through the face of the woman, I recognized her with her black hair and golden crown. It was a time when I was facing Queen Dolora Windister, a royalty who ruled our country a hundred years ago. Her face was nothing different from the paintings in the museum. Her face was alive. Her skin was white but not pale, her eyes were brown without any blood dripping from it. Her lips were red, and not dried and dead. Her beauty and elegance, you can really know that she was a queen, with her body in a blue mantle. Looking at her eyes, there was loneliness. Her face was gloomy when she spoke to me with her deep voice.
"Sandra Jefferson..." Dolora spoke. "Do you know what your family costs us?"
I shook my head. "No, your highness."
Dolora gave me a cold smile. "Then let me show you."
At once, the entire scene dispersed in the air, leaving only absolute darkness. "It started, long ago..." Dolora's voice echoed in emptiness.
In a sudden, my vision showed me a scene. A memory, perhaps. There was an elegant bedroom with a large bed and colorful cushions arranged over the surface of red blankets. There was a cabinet beside the bed, and on the wall was a portrait of Queen Dolora together with a man, a golden crown on his head, which was bigger than Dolora's. He aged the same as her, his kind smile shone his happiness as they both sat together on a chair. It was a portrait of the king and the queen. Moments later, the door shut open and a man in black tunic entered the bedroom of the royalties. His face was masked by black scarf, leaving only his eyes visible. He moved with cautiousness, as if he was sneaking and trespassing into the room. The man closed the door and dashed to the cabinet beside the bed. He opened one of its drawers and pulled a small wooden casket. He opened it and inside was an emerald ring, the man glanced around the room and wore the ring into his finger. He drew a pair of black gloves from his pocket and wore them, too. From a distance, there were footsteps approaching. The man returned the casket and left the room. Neat before anyone sees him. The scene vanished into darkness. "Someone has stolen the ring of immortality." Dolora spoke. " A cursed ring that grants its bearer immortality, but in exchange for a hefty price..."
The scene shifted into a new one. I saw myself standing in a corner of a dining hall. It was the dining hall of the royalties. Queen Dolora sat along with his son, a handsome lad that closely resembled his mother's eyes and nose. His skin was brown, his hair was short and black. They have their crowns and royal mantle with them Along with them were the members of the royal council in their white robes. Meals and goblet and wine bottles were served, the table adorned by red candles in candelabras. Dozens of knights stood on the corners of the hall, their bodies still frozen.
The queen raised her goblet and cheered. "For the nineteenth birthday of my son." Dolora grinned at Bardon. "Who will also be the youngest king of our dynasty. The youngest, yet a glorious one."
All the council people raised their cups, too, and applauded in joy. The knights bowed their heads.
"Even after the death of our king, I believe that New Mandriom can rise once more." Her eyes shifted its gaze at the red candles. "We commemorate his death, and my son's birthday and coronation through the prayers of the red candle. May King Antos rest in peace. May his soul be prosperous in the afterlife. May his venture to the underworld be guided by our prayers." For a single moment, all of them bowed their heads.
Dolora spoke again, and they all gazed at the red candles on the table. "Let us also wish for the prosperity and glory of my son's journey as the new ruler of this nation, as our new king. The prince's face remained silent and stern upon listening and devoting his thoughts on their ritual.
"As the power of these candles stand for love, may our new king, Bardon Windister, rule our kingdom with love and righteousness." Dolora glanced around them all and smiled. "For our new king!"
"For our new king!" The council people and the prince leveled their goblets to one another and drinked it before they drank. I knew that this scene was from the painting we saw in the museum. They all relished their meal, jovial greetings for the prince, or their new king, rather. I remembered that Lucy told me that this was also the same time when the queen and her son were murdered. I wondered what would happen next. Soon, I noticed the knights giving a nod to one another. Neither the queen nor the prince, nor the council people have noticed the gestures of the knights as their attention was engaged in the table. Later on, all of the knights walked towards the table. Dolora and some of the council people were baffled when they noticed the knights encircled around the table, standing beside each seat.
"What's going on?" Dolora asked kindly. "Is there something wrong?"
None of the knights answered the queen, but one of them pulled out his sword and stabbed one of the council men, nearest to him. The queen and the rest of them screamed. All of them were startled and rose from their seats. Without hesitation, all the other knights did the same to the remaining members of the royal council. Prince Bardon was enraged and yelled. "STOP THIS RIGHT NOW-" yet his voice fell silent as a sword slashed across his chest.
"BARDON!" Dolora cried and knelt with him, who stumbled and fell on the blood-stained floor. The dining hall was rattled by chaos brought by the carnage. The rest of the council people died defenseless, their body joining the prince on the ground's surface. Screams and shrieks fell silent, until only Dolora was the only one sobbing, with her skin remaining untouched from the blades. "Son... wake up..." I felt the pain upon watching her shed tears. Soon, the door was opened and a man entered. He was the same man I saw in my vision earlier. He was in his black tunic, his face still masked. His hands were ungloved, revealing the ring he had stolen from the bedroom of the royalties. By this time, he also has a sword, like the one which the knights have. Once he entered, he immediately closed the door.
"You've got what you deserved." The man in black tunic spoke in his familiar rough voice. My heartbeat started to race, gradually, because I was certain that I heard his voice somewhere else. Yet I did not encounter this man, not even in my dreams, "You dared to turn your back on me, then you will face death in no time."
Dolora fixed her teary red eyes on the man. "Why do you have to do this? I know it was you who stole the ring of immortality, Henrick Al'Dor."
The man unmasked his face and I was astounded by what I saw. The face of the man, his brown skin, his mustache and bearded face, brown eyes, big nose, and bald head. Things were starting to get clear for me. The truth was slowly unraveling itself. All along, it was Henrick Al'Dor also known as Henry Allison, the one whom I recognized as my uncle. Henrick glared at Dolora with malice. "Indeed, Dolora." He unsheathed his sword, the sharp edge of the silvery weapon was so neat, and I know that it can cut anyone's flesh with ease. "And no one can stop me now." He laughed and glanced at the dead bodies around the hall. All the knights kept still, as they encircled the table, standing still while watching Henrick deal with the queen. Their armor and swords smeared by blood. "You've chosen your son over me, to be the king of this nation. How pathetic."
"And I have no regrets." Dolora snapped, trying to get on her feet. "What happened to you, Henrick? This isn't you!"
Henrick smiled coldly at Dolora. "It was you, who did this to me, Dolora. After all the things I did for this kingdom. After all the sacrifices. After all the pain. I did all of this for you to be safe. Yet in the end, you've forgotten me and chose your son to inherit this kingly power."
"THAT'S BECAUSE HE'S MY SON!" The queen yelled. "All the things, and all the riches of this kingdom must be his! Bardon must continue the legacy of his dynasty."
"AND YOU'VE CHOSEN TO FOLLOW THIS SICK TRADITION OF THIS WRETCHED DYNASTY?" I noticed tears dripping across his cheeks. "After everything I did, you still turned down my love for you."
Dolora's teary eyes fixed on Henrick. She stood and took steps closer to him. "Henrick. There was not a single moment in my life that I've been ungrateful to your devotion for this kingdom, as one of our greatest chieftains..." Dolora touched his face gently. From there, they stood face-to-face, only Henrick was quite taller than her. "I will never forget how you saved my son from the fire. All of it, all your deeds for this kingdom are always honorable. But this isn't the way.."
Henrick closed his eyes and spoke no words.
"I know that your true desire isn't impossible." Dolora continued. "But it's just, I'm not ready to love another man again. You know that no one can ever replace Antos in my life."
Henrick pulled a dagger from his pocket. A dagger that was similar to what I saw in my dream, earlier this morning. The chieftain's expression turned hard upon hearing Antos' name and with a loud thump, he stabbed Dolora on her belly.
The queen stumbled on the chair behind her, falling on her knees. "Whatever you do..." Dolora said. "You can do nothing about it..." She coughed with blood sauced around her mouth. It was only then when she noticed the ring of immortality in his finger. "From this day, you and your descendants will suffer the curse of that ring."
Henrick arched his eyebrows. "A curse?"
"A curse that... that will put our souls in restlessness and vengefulness..." She coughed once more.
"What are you talking about?"
Dolora smiled dryly at him. "You're truly one big fool for not knowing anything about the ring of immortality."
Henrick shook his head and slashed his sword at her. Dolora shrieked, blood splashed on the chairs nearby the table, and even on the candles. Henrick's face was brushed by outrage and yelled. All the knights were surprised when the chieftain stabbed one of the knights.
"But sire... why?" Henrick ignored his last words and killed all the remaining knights, one at a time. The men were confused yet they defended themselves as they fought against Henrick. Whenever they slashed and bruised the chieftain with their blades, all his wounds instantly healed itself. After some moment, Henrick has slain them all. No other people remained alive in the dining hall, other than Henrick. He panted and muttered to himself. "If I won't get what I want, then this dynasty must fall." He glared at the corpses of the knights he had slain. "Apologies, my brave warriors. But I must leave no witnesses behind." His attention was caught by the red candles. The splashes of thick crimson blood dripped down on its slim and reddish wax-made body. Henrick grabbed one of the candelabras and threw it on the wooden surface of the floor. Later on, he threw the remaining candles on the floor and a body of flame eventually grew. Al'Dor masked himself once more and left the dining hall, sparing his life fro