The Miscreants of Xiphoid Camp [NOT UPDATING CURRENTLY]

» 2130 « Chapter 8 - A plot begins to unfold

This was a splendid idea. Wandering through the forest in the dark, completely and entirely on his own, was exactly what Avior had expected of Xiphoid Camp. He wasn't even being sarcastic. The sun dipped ever lower in the sky, painting the clouds in magnificent shades of the richest purples and most vibrant oranges imaginable. Avior saw none of it. He was deep in the forest, engulfed in the tall, looming shadows of the gigantic, ominous trees that towered above his head in a most intimidating way.

He had told Arin that he was going back to his cabin. He had told Bradley that he was going to 'hang out' with Arin a little longer. As if Avior Viator 'hung out' with people.

And then he had slipped away. What Avior lacked in intellect, he made up for in memorization. He was quite skilled at remembering long strings of numbers, could recite just about anything from memory, and, of course, was perfectly able to walk along the same path he and Marcus had taken earlier without backtracking or missing a turn. He took the same route over the tree as before, and then he was on his way toward the sounds of the river crashing against the bridge repeatedly.

The walk to the mansion seemed far shorter than it had previously. In what felt like mere minutes, he was standing before the long stairs that led to the imposing silhouette of the mansion. He shivered. If it had been dark in the middle of the day, now it was pitch-black. The fog curled around his body in a way that made it nearly impossible to see.

And there it was. he was at the mansion again. The wind died down and then stopped entirely. Everything was exactly the same as before, except the doors were open, just a crack.

Avior stepped closer. He slipped a hand into the crack and held onto the door on the right, pulling it with all the strength he could muster. It flew open, knocking him back a few paces nearly straight over the edge of the stairs.

He had gotten this far. It was time to go inside.

Avior had been exploring the mansion for nearly half an hour now, and there was still no sign of the magician. It was extremely strange inside. Upon entering, he had looked for a light switch, and instead found an old oil lantern sitting on a table. The moment he picked it up, a flame appeared inside of it as though it had been lit the whole time.

He had shrugged and continued on his way, which brought him to where he was now. Right off the entrance hall, there was a long spiral staircase at the end and hallways to the right and left. He had taken the one to the right. It was dark and seemed to have no ceiling, stretching upwards for what could have been miles. The floor was wooden and the walls were carpeted.

There were doors placed at random intervals throughout the hall. He initially looked into each one as he passed to reveal unremarkable rooms: a library, a sitting room—but one door opened to reveal only the same wall (or was it actually the floor?) and two eyeholes cut into it above his head. He stood on the lantern and stretched as far as he could to see through it.

He wished he hadn't. There was a pair of milky, clouded eyes on the other side staring sightlessly back at him, and a moment later, a shrill, piercing shriek echoed through the hall and he felt rather sick for a moment and the eyes were no longer clouded but clear, blue, and unmistakably his. He was now standing on solid ground instead of a lantern and he was on the WRONG SIDE of the door. The shrieking continued but it now came from deep within his own chest.

He toppled backward with a startled yelp, falling off the lantern and landing flat on his back in the hallway where he had been moments before. He held his hands out and examined them. They were his own. The eyes on the other side of the wall were white again.