Water's Reflection or Hero's Guilt

Chapter Twenty-Six

Hi guys! Been a long time since I put a message somewhere near my chapters. I just wanted to say that I love this scene. I can't really say why--I guess I just like the 'feel' of it. I hope you do too!

Enjoy!

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          Terrance traversed the darkness slowly, carefully. He could not see anything—as soon as he had walked through the doorway, the door had slid back in place and locked with a soft click. He was separated from June, Maya and Adam. But he knew what he had to do and did not look back.

          This room was much colder than where he'd come from: with no scent of incense anywhere, a small chill ran over his back. He suspected the walls were not decorated with tapestries anymore, but were bare stone. When he reached out with his hand to touch one, his fingers found nothing but air. Apparently, this hallway was wider than expected. He did not step aside to find the wall though; he continued forward.

          When his hands found some fabric—a tapestry—he hesitated for a moment. It hung in front of him, though he could not see it. It moved slowly from his touch.

          Terrance knew that whatever test Madame Lyss wanted him to take, would be behind this tapestry. He was not sure what it was. What would the Librarian want from him if not the recipe of soulbottles? What kind of test was this? For a moment, he considered what June and Adam had said. What if this was a trap? They did not know Madame Lyss—not really. They had no idea what she was capable of.

          Carefully, he lifted the tarp. Behind it, he could recognize a door of iron prison bars in the faintest glow. Through the bars, he saw a room. A table standing in the middle carried some sort of crystal, from which the white glow originated, along with several bottles.

          “Hello?” Terrance called out softly—a bit hesitant to break the silence. There was no answer. He looked around, trying to discover if there was anyone in the room. He could not see the walls; the darkness had conquered the crystal’s glow long before any wall was reached.

          He sighed and, with no alternative, pushed the door open. The hinges crunched. They were old, barely used. But the door was not locked, and Terrance walked up to the table. He immediately recognized the bottles to be what he expected: soulbottles. There were seven of them, each of them differing slightly. Some were less rounded in shape, others had far longer necks. Within the glass, tiny specks of dust showed imperfections to the bottles.

          “What do I do with these…?” Terrance muttered, when he noticed something else on the table. A piece of parchment, a quill and ink lying beside it. He took the paper quickly, but to his dismay, found it empty. For a second, he let his fingers brush past it, thinking of what to do. Then he heard a sound from out of the darkness—he immediately turned to face it.

          “Who are you?” he asked quickly. “Show yourself!”

          From the dark corner of the room came a strange sniffing for a moment. It stopped and it was quiet again. Terrance repeated his demand. “Come out into the light!”