Blood

Chapter Forty Nine: Bright lights

Back at the castle, Gregory wandered through the castle halls with a deliberate casualness, hands in his pockets and a smirk on his face. The grandeur of the place had lost some of its luster since his initial awe-struck arrival, but the sheer size of the castle still managed to impress him. Eliza was gone on her mission with Ethan, which meant he had a rare opportunity to roam freely without feeling like he was under the scrutiny of her sharp gaze.

The corridors were lined with tapestries depicting battles and celebrations he couldn't care less about, though he did pause to inspect one particularly gruesome depiction of what looked like elves fighting massive, snarling beasts. "Charming décor," he muttered, rolling his eyes. "Nothing says ‘welcome to the castle’ like glorified carnage."

He passed door after door, each carved with intricate designs that practically screamed importance. One had the emblem of a dragon. Another bore a tree that seemed to shimmer faintly in the dim torchlight. Gregory hesitated. Should I peek? The temptation was strong, but the faint echo of footsteps down the corridor made his decision for him. He turned on his heel and slipped farther down the hall, keeping his steps light.

Every so often, he came across a guard, and every time, he ducked out of sight with all the grace of someone who absolutely did not belong here. "Not today, lads," he muttered under his breath as he pressed himself into the shadow of a pillar. One guard passed close enough for Gregory to smell the leather of his armor, and he wrinkled his nose. "Is it too much to ask for a bath in this place?"

When the coast was clear, Gregory crept forward again, his heart racing but his sarcastic inner monologue keeping him entertained. The guards weren’t particularly aggressive toward him, but he wasn’t in the mood to test his luck. "Just because they haven’t thrown me in a dungeon yet doesn’t mean they won’t," he reasoned to himself.

It wasn’t long before he found himself at a junction of hallways. To his left, the sound of approaching footsteps grew louder—several guards, judging by the clinking of metal. Gregory’s stomach twisted. There was no way he’d make it past them unnoticed. He glanced around frantically, spotting a door just a few steps ahead. Without thinking, he darted toward it, twisting the handle and slipping inside.

The door shut with a soft click, and Gregory pressed his back against it, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. "That was close," he muttered. Then, louder, "What’s the worst they could do? Arrest me for loitering? Still not worth finding out."

As his breathing steadied, he turned to take in his surroundings, and his jaw dropped.

The room was unlike anything he had seen in the castle so far. It was circular, the walls adorned with smooth, gleaming panels of silver that seemed to pulse faintly with light. In the center of the room stood a crystal, suspended in midair and glowing with a brilliance that made the torches outside seem like weak candles in comparison.

The crystal radiated an otherworldly energy, its surface a kaleidoscope of shifting colors that danced like a living aurora. Gregory’s eyes widened, and he took a hesitant step forward.

"Well, that’s not ominous at all," he murmured, though his tone betrayed his awe.

As he approached, the air around the crystal seemed to hum, a soft vibration that he could feel in his chest. It was mesmerizing, almost hypnotic. He tilted his head. "And Ethan didn’t think this was worth mentioning? Figures. Keep the shiny magic crystal a secret from the guy who actually pays attention to details."

The thought of what the crystal might be capable of sent a thrill down his spine. Could this help us fix everything? He imagined going back in time, stopping the chain of events that had led to the current chaos. The idea was both thrilling and terrifying.

Unable to resist, Gregory moved closer, his fingers itching to touch the crystal. The glow intensified as he neared, casting his face in soft blues and golds. "Alright, buddy," he said to the crystal as though it were a sentient being. "What’s your deal?"

He reached out, his hand hovering inches from the surface.

That’s when he felt it—a sharp, searing pain at the back of his neck.

Gregory cried out, staggering back as his hand flew to the source of the pain. His fingers found something small and cylindrical lodged in his skin. He yanked it out, wincing as he held it up for inspection.

"A dart?!" he exclaimed, his voice tinged with disbelief. "Seriously? Who does that?"

The room began to spin, the crystal’s glow blurring into a hazy smear of light. His knees buckled, and he slumped to the floor, the dart still clutched in his hand.

He heard footsteps approaching him on the floor before the world went black.