A Tale of Traitors

Willow: Lux Mundi

The ground was icy cold. My lungs were heavy, and every breath hurt; the air was so thick it felt like breathing water with my lungs. It felt as if I was getting the wind knocked out of me with every breath I took. I groaned as I rolled from my back onto my side. Just moving made every bone in my body ache. How long had I been laying there? I focused on the elaborately embroidered ceiling that was filled with skylights. Harsh green and blue light packed the room and revealed the dust that was scattering with every move I made. It seemed that no one had disturbed this place in dozens—maybe hundreds—of years. I finally sat up, looking at the lavender ground. Cautiously, I shifted onto my feet and spun slowly in a circle. I was in what must have been the main hall; there were two staircases that led upwards to the next level, which I couldn't see from here. I scanned the walls and adored the paintings that must have been painted by the finest artists. I suddenly realized that something about the walls was so familiar to me, and with another spin I realized why I recognized it. It was the story of how our world fell to Tormod. He stood taller than everyone else, with a disturbing set of elongated, sharp teeth and skin that was so white it was tinged blue and green. His eyes were the worst of all: dark and lifeless and etched in red, like his brain was exploding from within. Goosebumps enveloped my body as I realized I would have to kill him someday soon.
I wondered which way would be the best to go. I could go up the staircase on the left or the one on the right, and both of them were leading into separate directions. I chose to go up the right first, which took me to the first half of the second floor of the castle. The stairs were still a gorgeous lavender, and since they were marble, I assumed they would hold my weight. Just to be sure, I tested out the first few steps and walked up slowly. I didn't know what to expect, but I wasn't nervous. It seemed that whoever had lived here had left in a hurry. The stairs were flooded with scattered papers, decorated in a language I couldn't read. I stooped down to gather some of them and folded them gently so they fit in my pocket. Someone had written those pages, and I wanted to appreciate what they had to say... when I had the time to learn, of course...
The right set of stairs opened up into a large dining hall, where there was still some extremely decomposed food sitting on the table. Bones from an animal I didn't recognize lay inside a bowl at the center of the table, and some chairs were knocked over. Why did they leave so quickly—was it because Tormod's men were coming for them? I picked up a tiny stuffed dragon toy from under a gorgeously carved chair that had tumbled over. There were kids living here. Maybe the adults would teach them how to hunt. I set the toy down and moved into the kitchen, admiring the photos of dragons and fairies that adorned the walls. They popped with blue, green, pink, gold, and a dozen other bright colors that I couldn't name. Glitter was everywhere. I realized that somewhere within the last few rooms, the dust had turned into glitter. I didn't know which was worse.
I explored the entire castle, understanding that I needed to move faster. I shoved myself against a wooden door that simply refused to budge. As it squeaked open and I slid into the room, my eyes beheld glitter-filled bunk beds with their fluffy blankets shoved hastily aside. I searched the bunks, sliding my hands between the mattresses and even under the beds. My searching yielded more glitter, some stuffed animals like the one I had found under the table, and some types of toys that I didn't recognize. A little funny shaped thing spun if you got it going fast right on its tiny tip—I have to admit that I tried that a few times, trying to figure out how it worked—and some spiky things with a rubber ball. I had no idea what that one was for. There were some others too: board games for the older children, some dragon dress up clothes, and tiny lasers that I assumed were dress-up weapons. In still other rooms, there were offices, weapons rooms, training and enchantment rooms, and more. My searching yielded no results. In frustration I pounded down the staircase and wandered the main hall again; there had to be something I was missing. I had been thorough in my search of the rooms, and hadn't seen anything out of the ordinary. No chest like the one I had found in the ship wreck.

The floor.

The thought seemed to strike me out of nowhere, but I couldn't get it out of my head.

Check the floor.

I knelt down on the cold tiles, examining the way they pieced together. It appeared to be a side image of a dragon head—although the 'scales' were purple marble, they were large and shaped like tear drops facing away from a tiny blue iris in the middle of the floor, which was in the center of another, larger tile that formed the eye of the beast. I placed my ear to the ground on the edge of the stairs and knocked three times. It wasn't hollow. I crawled across the whole floor, checking for hollow spots, and was immensely disappointed when there were no hollow sections. There I was, the chosen leader of this rebellion, able to escape from deadly spirits and battle armies of Exterminators, lying on a cold floor discouraged because I wasn't looking in the right place for a stupid tiny box. Well, go on. Check the floor. I hastily stood and slammed my feet into the ground, jogging over the hard floor.

Clink!

My heart pounded viciously when my foot struck it. Confused, I turned around and slammed my heels on the spots I had previously trampled over.

Clink!

I looked down at the center marble tile, the teeny tiny blue iris I hadn't checked because it was much to small for me to fit through. I knocked on the tile with my hand, and delightedly discovered it was indeed hollow. I scraped the circular edge of the tile, trying to lift it. I must have spent minutes clawing at the tile before I decided to try another approach and, with all of my weight, shoved the tile down into the floor. I shoved over and over, my arms growing tired from the movement. Finally, the tile gave way and began to sink into an ocean of purple marble. A rumbling grew and transformed into a roar as it disturbed the soul of the old, abandoned place. The tiles began to split all around me, folding sideways and upward to get out of my way, and revealed a staircase leading down into the depths of I didn't know where. Glitter-dust fell from the ceiling and sparkled as they came to rest on the steps and walls leading down; the grinding of gears and the whining of the old technology came to a halt and left me alone with the silence that my breathing continuously disrupted.
I shuffled down the stairs, hearing the stones cry out in pain with every step I took. My breath was visible in the freezing air, and I grew more and more unsettled as the light grew more and more dim. I was vaguely aware that there was a massive cavern opening up, but I was consumed by thoughts and questions. The further I traveled down into the depths of the castle, my nose going numb from the cold, the more I wished for answers to all my questions. Mainly, I wanted to know what had happened that made everyone leave so hastily. I wanted to know why I had seen colors here that I had never seen before. I wanted to know what this dark dungeon had been used for and why it was so deep. I wanted to know how I would possibly find the courage to fight against that nasty, red-eyed king. I wanted to know—

A distant grumbling—awakening—interrupted my thoughts. My hands flung to to my bow and I picked an arrow out of my quiver, preparing to shoot.

Something massive was shifting the dust, and I could just see the tips of what looked like wings peaking into the light as two icy blue eyes pierced through my soul.

What were they keeping down here?