Forever Alive

Chapter 9: The Castle

The book in my hand quite literally called my name. My heart felt as if it had skipped a beat the moment I grabbed it, and I looked outside. Milo was still with the paramedics, giving them some information as they were loading her into the back of the ambulance, "Open me," the book whispered softly. The leather cover felt cold to the touch, and the pages looked heavily worn out, a couple almost falling to the side, I could see sticking from the top a small newspaper clipping. "Open me," the book demanded again. Although the book was small, it felt heavy in my hands; I took one last glance at Milo, his sapphire eyes looking back at me as I was debating whether I should listen to the book and read its pages, the secrets they might hold.

Milo saw the ambulance goodbye and started heading back to the Honda. I wanted more than anything to open this journal, but today wasn't the day. It just didn't feel right, I placed the book back in my Pocket dimension before Milo could see what was happening. This made me feel streamly uneasy. Whoever this was, it was something I wanted to look at on my own before I got him involved. When he finally returned, we took a moment to admire the pile of clothes in front of us. It wasn't much, an old pair of jeans, a grey T-shirt and a jacket.

I grabbed the pants delicately, afraid that they might disappear just like the owner had. making an effort to dig into the pockets and see what kind of treasures I could find.

The pants proved to be unsuccessful with any valuable information. The man only carried around a wallet in his pants. his ID showed that his name was Jeremy Hammerton, and according to it, he was in his late thirties, with some cash and a credit card. At least The ID gave us an idea of who he was before he disappeared. According to it, he was in his late thirties, or at least he appeared to be physically. Who knows how old he truly was?

Milo was going through his jacket. It had a metallic smell; he had been feeding wearing this jacket often, old blood marks splattered all across the jacket, and a hole where I had stabbed him right in the center of it.

"Bingo!" Milo exclaimed

He pulled Jeremy's Phone out of the jacket. It might not be the clue that we needed, but something was better than nothing. Luckily for us, Jeremy had an old flip phone, and without much security around it, we headed directly to the messages.

For the most part, it was a lot of booty calls for late-night entertainment or, in his case, easy meals to go. One text drew my attention; it had come from some girl called Eleonor.

Our Patron has work for us. Find me and that smug bastard at the old burned-down church in France, You know the one. See you there on Monday at feeding time I'll bring the snacks, hope you like blondes. PS Don't be late.

Milo and I looked at each other. Perhaps this was a clue: Eleonor could have a strong connection to Nyx and be able to tell us more about where to find the artifact. But we had to hurry; this message was sent yesterday, and the meeting date was less than a week away.

"Well, Ren, I hope you like blondes because we have a party to crash."

I nodded. I felt closer to the truth than before. Eleonor is the key. I could feel it. Her name brought a feeling of fire inside of me. We had met before I knew it deep in my core. Now, it was my job to find her.

"Let's find these fates once and for all," I said with a newfound courage.

Milo took back to the road only a short time after that. We had at least three more hours to go before we got to the castle, and unfortunately for me, our only company was the music coming from the radio.

It was too late and too dark to admire the country we found ourselves in. I looked at Milo; he was a scrawny-looking man, but his aim today saved us and our mission.

"How did you learn to throw like that?"

"Your Father, actually, he used to come often with artifacts to restore by the Grand Central, and every time he was about to leave, we used to spend an afternoon or two throwing daggers and doing some archery. It was mostly for fun, you know – boy stuff." He savored each word, "My father thought that as a keeper, none of those skills were essential since my only job was to live and die by the library." His fingers absentmindedly traced the edge of the wheel.

"He must have not taken well that you were coming with me then."

"Well..." his skin paled as his eyes became wider. his breathing became shallow and uneven as guilt constricted his chest.

"YOU DIDN'T TELL HIM?" I exclaimed in disbelief

"No – He wouldn't have understood."

"So basically, I kidnapped you."

"I mean, I'm the driver, so I think, in theory, I kidnapped you." A faint smile played on his lips.

"I bet George and Frederick will love that explanation." I could feel the air around us clearing up and the tension from the situation going away. I was taking this moment in; it was a beautiful night.

The night unfolded before us, a vast canvas painted with shades of deep blue adorned with the sparkling jewels of stars. The road stretched out like an endless ribbon, leading us to the castle where the Fates resided. As the car glided through the quiet darkness, Milo and I shared stories, laughter, and even a few moments of comfortable silence.

The revelation about Milo's clandestine departure from the Grand Central hung in the air like a delicate secret. I couldn't help but empathize with his decision. The burden of destiny weighed differently on each of our shoulders, and sometimes, the choices we made were a dance with the unpredictable.

As we approached the Neuschwanstein Castle, its towering spires emerged from the darkness, silhouetted against the moonlit sky. The grandeur of the castle invoked a sense of both awe and foreboding. We parked the car and made our way towards the entrance, the onyx necklaces around our necks pulsating with a reassuring warmth.

The castle gates creaked open with an eerie sound as if they welcomed us into a realm of ancient power. We were greeted by a security guard, an older fellow with silver hair and a long nose that distracted from his face. He seemed surprised to see us, which it wasn't surprising we basically broke in the middle of the night. Then his eyes darted between Milo and me. As Milo took a step back placing his hand in one of the blades he kept attached in the back of his pants, ready to attack if needed.

"You are early," his voice sounded eerie. "They have been expecting you."

"How?" was all I managed to say; the fellow then grabbed a pouch from his side and brought out some kind of white powder, blowing it towards us. Milo and I closed our eyes and pushed back, but it was too late. The powder was everywhere, our eyes burned, and our lungs kept doing their best to cough up as much out as they could. As we were doing our best to keep our composure, the guard was mumbling something in his teeth; I felt the powder all around my skin, itching and tingling at the same time. But as quickly as the feelings of burning came, they left.

We opened our eyes again, and the man was gone. The castle felt the same, but it was different. The entrance was still as magnificent as earlier, but everything around us looked newer and smelled fresher; the tourist signs at the front had disappeared, and in their place, there were artisan tables with a big flower base and beautiful sunflowers popping out of them.