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5 . The Boy in the Room

"I want to meet him," Katherine declared, her voice firm, reverberating off the crumbling stone walls.

Driscoll’s expression quivered with uncertainty, his ethereal form flickering like a candle in a draft. "Him? Well, I gave you his key."

"How does it work? No more games. Stop leading me on." A glint of determination ignited in her eyes. "Why should I believe you at all?"

"Look, he's been here all along. I never lied. He's just… on the other side," he replied.

Katherine frowned, recalling the distant onlooker from the tapestry. "What do you mean 'on the other side'? Show me!"

Driscoll hesitated, glancing away, as though the truth were a fragile thing he didn’t want to shatter. But under her pressure, he relented. “Very well. But remember, you’re still in a dream. What lies beyond is often a reflection of your deepest fears and desires.”

As Driscoll drew her in, the air thickened with an otherworldly energy. A shimmer of light began to form, illuminating a small, simple room. It felt like stepping into a painting—a soft glow casting dancing shadows along the walls.

Inside, she saw a boy lost in thought, sitting cross-legged on the floor. His gaze was distant, focused on something beyond her reach. He wore a tattered cloak spun from twilight, his eyes shimmering like pools of starlight. She recognized him at once—the same as in the portrait. He appeared both fragile and powerful, a juxtaposition that intrigued and frightened her.

“Is that him?” Katherine whispered, heart racing.

Driscoll nodded.

Determined, Katherine stepped forward, crossing the threshold into the room. The moment she did, the boy's head snapped up, his gaze locking onto hers with an intensity that sent shivers down her spine. Recognition flickered between them, heavy with unspoken connection.

“Who are you?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper.

Katherine's voice caught in her throat. She had dreamed of this confrontation for weeks. Now that she had it, her boldness evaporated like dew caught in the sun.

“How did you come here?” he asked, tilting his head slightly, as though trying to see through her very soul.

“Y—” she started, her heart racing. “You were waiting.”

The boy’s gaze darkened momentarily, shadows flitting across his features. He beckoned for her to sit next to him, and she drew near, unsure what to make of him.

“Is that all?” he asked moodily.

She examined his forlorn features. He wasn’t the tall, valiant hero from the tapestries; he was closer to her age, his brow reflecting an honest purity buffeted by youthful temperament.

Before she could reassure him, he spoke again, a faint smile creeping across his cheek. "You wouldn't pester the ghost about me if that was all you were curious about." As he spoke, his smile grew bolder. "It's been a long time since I talked to anyone, really. I know how it’s been, whether I ask or not. But—I want to hear it from you." His gentle blue eyes lingered on hers.

“Hear what?” Katherine drew back slightly.

He laughed, light spilling from his eyes. "Never mind."

There was a light in his face that Driscoll always lacked. No inhibition, no hiding behind jokes. Could he be the troubled figure from the portraits, with moth-eaten eyes? He was less readable despite his openness.

"...What is your name?"

"Garrett," he answered without hesitation.

"Um...nice to meet you. I'm Katherine."

He smiled. "I know," he responded. "But it's nice all the same."
“I know,” he responded. “But it’s nice all the same.”

Katherine’s heartbeat quickened as she settled beside Garrett, the air charged with unspoken words. Something about him drew her in—a warmth, a flicker of light beneath the shadows that cloaked him.

“You’re different from what I expected,” she said softly. “Do you really spend all your time waiting here?”

Garrett shifted slightly, dim light casting playful shadows across his features. “Do you really spend your time waiting between worlds with Driscoll? Sometimes I wonder if I’ve been here too long or if it’s all just a dream.” His gaze settled on the far wall.

Katherine studied him, intrigued by the ethereal light in his eyes. “You're no dream,” she insisted. "That came out wrong! I mean—"

He laughed again.

"You're so different from the man in the tapestries. I expected someone more..."

Garrett leaned closer, hanging on her every word, making her shy.

"...Well, Driscoll seems friendly, yet he speaks in riddles. You hide yourself, but...why? It seems like there's nothing to hide from. You’re so pleasant and natural to talk to." She swallowed nervously. "If you’d been waiting for me, why not meet me at the hall instead of having Driscoll do it? I just..." She looked into his calm, attentive eyes, feeling his easy reassurance. "I don’t know."

He paused meditatively. "I’m sorry."

His clarity surprised her.

"...Well, Driscoll, he seems so friendly, yet he speaks in riddles. Yet you hide yourself, but...I don't understand why. It just seems like there's nothing to hide from. You seem so pleasant and natural to talk to." Katherine swallowed nervously. "Um...if you had been waiting for me, you could have met me at the hall instead of your custodian. You could have met me in my own room. I just..." she looked into his calm, attentive eyes and felt his easy reassurance. "I don't know."

He paused meditatively. "I'm sorry."

His words surprised her with their clarity.

"I'm hiding, too," he looked down. "Same as you." He sighed, weary for the world. "Maybe Driscoll told you something grand about me, but I'm just a kid." He toyed with his cloak. "Half the stuff he says isn't true. His imagination runs away with him. Maybe he was the wrong person to leave in the hall."

"Why did you leave him there at all?"

"I was too shy to meet you myself. I'm sorry. It's silly. You're different than I imagined, too. I should have known you'd be so easy to talk to."

"Did you know me from the portraits?"

He stared at her curiously. "Yes."

"...I am not nearly so grand in them as you. In fact..." her voice began to trail. "I was often unhappy. Trying to hold you back."

The boy's head cocked to one side as he considered her words.

"Yet you fought that god."