By Natalie Smith
An intense scream awakens Eve from her slumber. Darkness surrounds her. Deciding against her better judgement, she arises and slips into a almost equally dark dress of a maroon color. As her eyes adjust, she notices that an emerald mist had enveloped her lower body. Curious, she waves her hand through the mysterious fog, but the substance shows no reaction out of the ordinary.
Another shriek erupts from an undefined location, yet Eve knows that it must have come from somewhere inside the castle. The terrifying noise seems muffled, but echoes at the same time. Dreading what may be happening, she slowly, silently walks towards the wooden bedroom door, and opens the latch.
Moving out into the corridor, the green mist takes over. Despite all these odd notions, nobody stands in the stone-lined hallway. One would believe that the screaming would disrupt the slumber of the entire palace. Confused, Eve enters the room next door, where her friend Cienna lies in her own bed, covered in thick blankets, in a deep sleep. She strides over to her friend and shakes Cienna’s shoulder while calling out her name, but even that has no effect on her unconscious friend. Eve desperately cries out to the vast space of the castle for help, but only the echo of her voice resounds back. Her breathing becomes faster-paced as panic overwhelms her. Unable to comprehend the situation, Eve reenters the hallway, noticing that the fog has grown thicker, and with it, the corridor colder.
Her vision cannot reach a far distance, so she whispers, “Aster Lumineuse” and her rose quartz pendant begins to glow. The round of shrills begins again, which disheartens Eve and fills her with unrelenting fear. With her necklace lighting an aura of the unknown gas around her, she turns left towards the denser cloud, hoping that she may find the source of the screaming. Then, deciding that the haze has grown too thick, she quietly remembers, “Soufflé Vent”, clearing the mist away with a gust of wind through the empty corridor. The gas starts to fill up the hallway again, but she sees its source: a crack in the stone wall.
Examining the crack, she runs her fingers over it and around it, discovering a loose stone. Pushing it in, a doorway reveals itself, leading Eve to a dark passageway. All of her years as a noble living in this castle, yet she had never found this passage as a child. This disappoints her, especially after having read many adventures with secret passages over the years, but then the matter at hand brings her back to her task of discovering the reason behind the screaming.
After hesitation, Eve slips into the unfamiliar walkway. Initially, the musty air makes her cough. The heavy door closes behind her, leaving her with only the slight glow of her crystal and a draft against her face, sending the mist in the same direction. Placing her right hand on the wall of the narrow passageway, she lets it guide her since the rose aura cannot let her see much distance ahead of her. She nearly trips over an obstruction in the pathway. Then, she bends down to examine the obstacle, noticing that it must be the source of the mysterious cloud. Standing back up again, she moves around the cauldron and continues on through the dark passage.
In the pauses between the cries of agony, Eve hears nothing but her breathing and footsteps, mechanical like those of military men that her late father had told her stories about when she was a young girl. Occasionally, her face encounters cobwebs, so she immediately stops in her path in order to wipe off the thin fiber clinging onto her features.
Eventually, she comes upon a turn in the hallway, and at the end, a faint light emanates from what seems to be an open doorway on the right. She approaches it slowly and quietly as if not to disturb a light sleeper. Suddenly, near the entrance of the place that the noise is coming from, Eve notices the floor is saturated with an objectionable fluid. It sticks to her shoes, whatever the substance might be. Grazing the surface of the liquid with her finger, Eve finds it thick and slightly warm. She brings the finger close to the glow of her necklace, and sees that the color matches that of her gown. Immediately, she goes to wipe it on the stone wall beside her, trying not to scream herself.
Still determined to figure out the situation that is tormenting the unidentified girl, Eve saunters on. When she finally reaches the end of the passage, she stops, attempting to become one with the wall. At this close range, Eve defines a young, masculine voice, speaking something unintelligible. A feminine persona pleads for life, which Eve can only expect is the woman who has been screaming.
When the round of screaming begins again amidst cries of pain, Eve whispers “Aster Éteint”, which in turn, terminates the aura of rose light around her neck. Slowly, she glides over to the edge of the wall, peeking through the doorway. The surreal scene in front of her consists of lit candles in a demicircle around the front of the feminine figure, who is hung up on the wall by an unexplained force. Although she seems to be in a miserable position, the girl is still recognizable. She is Lady Penelope Quinn, the renowned singer who the King had invited for entertainment during the visit of a neighbouring royal family. Yet, like the color that the celebrated vocalist was known to adore, blood seeps out of enlarging lacerations laced throughout her body and then streams down the stone wall.
Eve then glances over to the adversary of the situation, and is instantly astonished. Why, the youngest prince of her home kingdom is the one that is injuring this poor lady! She hadn’t the slightest idea that Prince Gregor was a sorcerer, and an evil one at that. The intense stare and the tension in Gregor’s lack of movement reflect on the force that controls Lady Quinn like a jester’s marionette. Although she was not familiar with the scene in which was occurring, Eve did know Gregor like a brother. This thought leads her past the doorway and right towards Gregor, but she keeps a distance as she angrily exclaims, “What in the name of the gods are you doing, Gregor of Avelyn?”
Gregor’s focus is terminated, dropping Lady Quinn’s weakening body to the ground in a growing puddle of blood. With wide eyes in the dim lighting, Gregor quickly twists to face Eve, his mouth gaping open like the entry to a cave of secrets. “Eve. How are you…” he mutters as guilt consumes his facial features.
Before he can continue, Eve yells, “Nevermind how I got here, what are you doing?” The 14-year-old prince remains silent. Eve sternly continues, “Well, I demand that you release your victim, who may I remind you, is a guest of your father’s. Also, you must rid the palace of whatever substance that you have poisoned the air with.”
Suddenly, the young prince’s face fills with wrath as he loudly states, “You will not demand me to do anything, Eve Henry. You may exceed me in age, but you do not exceed me in power.” His anger makes him start to chant again, and his spells continue to put Lady Quinn in agony.
“I beg of you to stop, Gregor! Why must you hurt her so?” Eve desperately exclaims with tears in her cerulean eyes. “What has she done to you to deserve such torture?”
Gregor sighs, then releases Lady Quinn once again. He explains, “I must be accepted as the apprentice of the Solar Temple, so therefore, I need to perform this ritual for my mentor. As for the reason I chose Lady Quinn, she seemed a suitable choice, as she is the only person that you seemed to have shown a dislike to of late.”
Taken aback by this explanation, Eve replies, “The only reason that I have shown any objection towards Lady Quinn is due to her dislike towards my friend Cienna for little reason other than her beautiful voice. A small complaint that you may have overheard from me does not equate to the hatred that you are showing her now through killing her in this cruel manner.”
Gregor responds, “I apologize to you, Eve, that my actions have displeased you. But I do not apologize for my actions directly, because I cannot express to you how much I need to do this. This is a way for me to find someone who can help me learn what to do with my magic, which is something that cannot be provided to me from anyone inside the castle.”
“I am sure that if you had confided in your mother that you had magic, she could have found a suitable instructor for you,” Eve contradicts. If he had, Eve realizes that she could have taken advantage of the resource as well, since she only recently discovered she had magic herself.
He pauses for a moment, then says, “I am truly sorry, Eve,” then continues to injure the dying Lady Quinn, relieving her of her blood. Her deafening shrieks make Eve want to relieve her of pain, but Eve has not yet learned of any spells that could help her in this situation. Also, she dearly does not want to show Gregor her own magical ability for fear that he may use it against her. She attempts to move towards Gregor to stop him, but finds that he has placed an invisible shield of sorts around where he stands.
“Gregor, please!” Eve begs, crying.
The agonizing screaming ends abruptly and Lady Quinn’s body falls to the ground. All of a sudden, a mist starts to materialize and move towards the corpse of the renowned singer. “The deed is already done,” Gregor states. With that, the mist starts to swirl, melding into a bright silhouette. Eve stands plastered to her position. The features of the figure become clearer and clearer, until all of a sudden, the mist seems to turn to skin and hair, taking human form. A new being stands among Eve and Gregor, in the rejuvenated form of the Lady Penelope Quinn.
After the formation, the creature smirks and looks down at her herself, then the corpse beside her, pleased. “My Lady Nebula, I have done as you asked and now wish to further my education as apprentice of the Solar Temple,” Gregor states in a formal tone.
Nebula smoothly replies, “Well, we cannot start here.”
The cold tone of Nebula’s voice sends Eve running out of the room and into the passageway. Quickly, she tries to feel her hand along the stone walls of the passage, but constantly finds herself nearly tripping and running into the walls. Calling out behind her, she hears Nebula laughing, “Oh, but Eve Henry, it is a shame that you did not stay, but I assure you that we will meet again. It is, after all, fate.” With much effort, Eve runs all the way back to Cienna’s room, where she locks the door and hides under Cienna’s bed, too afraid to be found in her own room.
Natalie Smith 