Chapter 3

I could now sense something else. Something powerful enough that a wave of fear washed over me, leaving goosebumps on my skin. During this time, my amulet, which I wore around my neck, began to emit heat, indicating a spirit's presence. I instinctively held the amulet in my hand as if it were a sword. I never feared any ghosts or demons, as they can be driven away by uttering the divine names.But there was something about this particular spirit that felt different from all the others, and it made me feel unsettled.

I went to the door and opened it slowly. It creaked loudly, making me pause, but I continued forward until I reached the threshold of the room. Upon entering, I gasped softly, my mouth hanging agape in shock.

A strange light emanated from the room, making it appear as though a thousand candles burned. But that wasn't even the most unsettling thing about the room.

There, reclining in an almost regal manner on a stone platform, lay a figure that defied explanation. Dressed in dark, ornate garments that seemed to come from a different culture, the man exuded an air of enigmatic elegance. His features, chiseled and refined, bore an ageless quality that stirred both my fear and curiosity.

Confusion and fear gripped me as my eyes traced the contours of the sleeping nobleman's form. This tunnel may be connected to the castle.

Perhaps it was a secret chamber where noblemen engaged in magical rituals or bizarre parties. Whispers of such stories had reached me through certain royal servants and guards. But the question weighed heavily on my mind: was this nobleman connected to a group that practiced forbidden arts? Was he under some kind of enchantment or curse? Could he simply be an exquisitely realistic statue? The royal craftsmen and artisans were known to fashion human-like figures with such precision that distinguishing them from real humans was a challenge. The thought sent a shiver down my spine, for I had always found such statues eerie. It was as if their stone eyes held a gaze that followed you—an uncanny sensation that I couldn't easily shake off. And now, staring into this creature, my imagination conjured visions that caused my skin to prickle with goosebumps.

The man's pale skin, untouched by time, glowed softly in the dimly lit chamber. The gentle light accentuated his delicate features, causing him to look ethereal, like one of those gods in ancient mythology. The only difference between him and a true god was his hair, which flowed down in luxurious curls past his shoulders like ebony silk. And while there were no signs of age on the face of his sleeping figure, hints of wrinkles formed around his eyes and mouth. I could sense the softness beneath his sculpted appearance.

But the strangest part of this statue, aside from its inhuman beauty, was the fact that when he lay motionless, I could swear that a gentle, cold breeze passed through us—just enough so that I knew he hadn't been lying prone. Yet there was no wind in the room. Not one single bit of sound. There was just him, lying in silence, as if he were sleeping.

As I stood there, my heart pounding in my chest, curiosity got the better of me. Slowly, I reached out and tentatively placed my hand on the nobleman's arm, half-expecting the touch to confirm my suspicion that he was indeed a statue.

But to my shock, the instant my fingers made contact with his skin, a jolt of energy coursed through me. It wasn't painful; rather, it felt like a current of awareness passing between us. Images flashed through my mind—fleeting glimpses of grand halls, elaborate feasts, and a pair of gleaming golden eyes that held the weight of centuries. A gasp escaped my lips as I quickly pulled my hand back, stumbling a few steps away from the platform.

Could he be a magician like me, one who had somehow slumbered through the ages? Or was he something entirely else—a creature of the night, as the old tales whispered? The possibilities swirled in my mind. My heart beat so loudly that I thought it would go out of my body.

I looked up again, expecting to see the nobleman stir at my sudden intrusion into his chamber. He didn't. In fact, he remained asleep as I stared dumbstruck at him, trying to process the shocking images I'd just witnessed. For several long seconds after I regained control over my emotions, I stood motionless, frozen in place, unable to make any sense of what I had just seen.

As my thoughts whirred, my fingers tightened around the crystal that served as my torch, my excitement and fear intertwining like the dancing shadows on the chamber walls.

This place was much worse than the witches' hideout. I suddenly felt weak, as if the air itself had suffocated me.

Slowly and deliberately, I retraced my steps, my gaze lingering on the mysterious nobleman for a moment longer. As the door swung shut behind me, my mind was filled with thousands of questions. I fled this place as fast as I could. My heart continued beating erratically against my ribs, and my mind was racing at a feverish pace. What I saw in that chamber haunted my every waking thought.

It left me shaken to the core, and I wasn't sure what to think. I felt as if I should believe something supernatural had occurred in the cavernous chamber, but at the same time, I was too afraid to find out more. It would have been easy enough to accept that the man in front of me had simply fallen asleep, but I couldn't ignore the disturbing implications of what I'd seen.

As I emerged once more into the cool embrace of the forest. It was almost night, and my heart pounded with fear and confusion. But at least I have the silver lotus now.

I told myself firmly that the rest would come soon enough. I smiled, hoping to alleviate the unease that lingered in my stomach and dispel my fears. I felt the warmth emanating from my amulet and knew that nothing bad could happen. I was safe. And I hoped everything would work out okay in the end.

*****

A lot has happened in the past week. Once Christine recovered, thanks to the silver lotus, Mr. Hawthorne gave me enough money to move to a better hotel closer to the apothecary where I worked. It felt good to have some extra money and the prospect of a more comfortable stay.

So, I found myself at a new hotel in a lively part of the city. It was surrounded by bustling markets and busy streets, with the air filled with the enticing scent of spices and the distant sounds of street performers. The hotel looked charming with its decorative patterns and inviting atmosphere.

Inside, a friendly face greeted me at the reception desk. The woman there welcomed me to The Moonlight Haven and asked how she could help. I explained I was a new guest, and she quickly got me registered. While she did that, I looked around the lobby. Fancy chandeliers hung from the ceiling, and comfy couches seemed to promise relaxation. It was definitely a place where a person of leisure would feel at home. I even saw a couple making out on one of the sofas. What caught my attention, though, was the man sitting at the bar. He had his back to me, but I could tell from the slight slump of his shoulders that he was exhausted. His dark hair fell over his face, covering almost all of it except for one side. And although he didn't turn, he still somehow managed to look lonely and lost.

The woman returned and told me I was in room 613 on the fifth floor. Once everything was sorted, she handed me an old-fashioned key with a fancy tassel, its weight cooling against my palm. Grateful, I thanked her and made my way down the narrow hallway to my room. The worn wooden floors creaked softly beneath my steps, adding to the charming ambiance.

As I inserted the key into the lock, the door swung open with a faint whisper of hinges, revealing a room decorated in blue and gold. My eyes took in the details around me.

A large, plush armchair beckoned from one corner, its fabric inviting me to sink into its embrace. The bed, the centerpiece of the room, looked soft and clean. The coverlet was a rich tapestry of textures, and the pillows were plumped and adorned with delicate embroidery.

Stepping further into the room, I noticed the gentle hum of a softly whirring fan on the ceiling, its rhythmic sound like a soothing lullaby. The window was partially open, allowing a gentle breeze to waft in, carrying with it the distant melody of street musicians and the faint aroma of exotic spices from the markets below.

With a contented sigh, I placed my bag on the bed and sank into the armchair. The day's weariness seemed to melt away as I took in the ambiance of the room. This was more than just a place to rest; it was a haven of tranquility in the heart of the bustling city, a place where I could recharge my energy

In the following days, I settled into a routine that felt both soothing and refreshing. Breakfasts were a treat with fresh pastries and coffee. I chatted briefly with the staff, getting to know them and sharing bits of my own story.

The hotel was like a haven, especially after a day of exploring the city. It was a short walk from the apothecary, which made my work commute easy. Coming back to the hotel felt like coming home. The key would turn, the door would open, and I'd step into a space that was mine during this adventure.

And so one time, as night fell and the city's bustling energy mellowed into a soft hum, I found myself in the cocoon of my room. The golden glow of lamplight danced upon the tapestries, casting shifting shadows. The gentle breeze carried the distant serenade of a violinist, whose melody weaved through the fabric of the night.

Amid this serenity, my thoughts inevitably turned to the enigmatic nobleman I had stumbled upon in the underground tunnel. Thousands of questions swirled in my mind. Was he merely a human-like statue, a piece of royal decoration? It looked so real that it seemed like a sleeping nobleman. He might have been a forgotten prince a long time ago. A sense of paranoia brushed against my consciousness, but I found comfort in my amulet, a guardian that had shielded me from danger before. Making a magic wand is much more difficult than charging amulets, so I only have this protection.

As I pondered, a soft yet insistent knock on the door disrupted my daydream. My heart quickened as I approached. Who would visit me at this late hour? I doubt it was Mr. Hawthorne checking up on me. Perhaps it was the receptionist or someone from the apothecary. Even then, I would be more than happy if they came to see me.

I opened the door to reveal a figure whose presence both intrigued and baffled me—a man I did not recognize, but his aura seemed familiar to me like an old friend that I had not seen for many years. His sudden appearance was like a ripple in the calm waters of my thoughts, stirring memories and making me curious and confused.

Beside him stood a member of the hotel staff, her expression a mixture of politeness and curiosity. The man's features were refined, and his eyes held a glint of familiarity that tugged at the edges of my mind. His voice, when he spoke, carried a hint of warmth and a touch of formality. "Masha, it's been quite some time, hasn't it? I trust you're well."

The man's features were refined, his dark hair falling in a slightly disheveled yet intentional manner. His hazel eyes were almond-shaped. He wore a dark suit and black shoes. In his left hand, he casually held a gold cigarette case with an engraved emblem of a snake twisting around itself, which reminded me of an occult symbol. To his right, he carried a leather case. He must be rich, I thought. He radiated confidence and power, and it reminded me of an imposing yet kind presence. Though I couldn't quite pinpoint exactly what it was that drew me toward him, there seemed to be something magnetic about his presence, which left me with an inexplicable yearning.

Surprise and confusion battled within me as I struggled to place the pieces of the puzzle together. "I'm sorry, have we met?" I inquired, my gaze shifting between the man and the hotel staff.

My mouth was still open as I tried to recognize his face. Then I closed it when I realized an awkward silence lingered in the air.

A small smile graced the man's lips. "Forgive me for the sudden intrusion. We were acquaintances back in the day. I heard you were staying here and couldn't resist the opportunity to reconnect. I am Victor Darkstone. Do you still remember me?"