He had this strange sensation of floating. As if something suspended him above the ground. Was there even any ground here? Did he even open his eyes? It was dark. It was cold. And he was... Scared. But he didn't get it. What was he supposed to be scared of?
Ah...
My dear beloved...
Who said that?
All of a sudden, he felt his back pressed against a cold smooth surface. When did that appear? When did he stop floating? He turned his head to the side, but he couldn't see anything past the dark. He tried to get up, his movements were sluggish as if he was underwater. But eventually, he managed to get up.
A lovely and noble flower of evil...
Truly, you are the most beautiful of them all...
He took a clumsy step forward, trying to find the owner of the voice, and as he did so, a blinding light came up from below him. He had to shield his eyes from the dark fragments - wait, no, they looked like... stars? - that were flying away, revealing a purple brick floor and he was standing on top of a lime-green circular slab platform.
Mirror, mirror on the wall...
Who is the cruelest of them all?
He spun around but didn't dare to step off the platform. Where did that voice come from? Behind him, he could hear a burst of flame. When he turned around again, he saw a green flame dancing in the dark. Slowly, something started to appear around the flame. A golden circular border. He squinted his eyes. Wait. The flame looked like it glowing behind something. A glass? A window? Maybe a mirror?
Those who are guided by the dark mirror...
As long as your heart desires...
It felt as if he was standing right in front of the mirror. Through the green flame, which was slowly dissolving, a black-gloved hand appeared. He couldn't see who the owner of the hand is but he was sure that this is the voice's hand. How was that possible? He had no idea.
Take the hand that appears in the mirror...
It was a tempting offer. He could feel his heart beating faster. What should he do? His eyes flickered around, trying to find any corner in this pitch-black abyss. But he couldn't. It was as if the darkness is endless. He could get lost in it. He... He didn't want that. He didn't want to feel lost. He didn't want to feel lonely.
The voice made that feeling of loneliness disappeared. The voice cut through the darkness, giving him something to hold on to. And the voice sounded so alluring, comforting. It made him feel safe. It's going to be okay afterward. All he needed to do is to take the hand...
Come, now... Show me your power...
We only have a little bit of time left...
Slowly, he lifted his hand, reaching toward the gloved hand. He never realized the surface of the mirror rippled like water when the gloved hand went through it, finally meeting with his smaller one. He never realized that the purple brick floor slowly dissolving into darkness, along with his lime-green platform. All his focus went to the hand as the voice echoed again.
No matter what, don't let go of my hand...
He wasn't planning to. He gripped the hand tighter as, once again, he felt as if he was floating. Darkness had swallowed his platform, leaving his feet dangling. But he didn't feel lost or scared like before. Instead, he felt sleepy. He tried to grip the hand even tighter as if it could make him stay awake. But no matter how hard he tried, darkness slowly clouded his vision as sleep welcomed him.
The last thing he could hear was the sound of a galloping horse.
YOU ARE READING
Twisted-Wonderland: Our Precious Treasure (Part 1)
أدب الهواةJonah Argentum is, quite possibly, confused. He's pretty sure that he's a magicless boy, and yet he finds himself in the prestigious magic academy, Night Raven College. Not only that, but it seems like troubles always find a way to enter...
