The image of Harpstring Manor faded away. An imaginary area formed in
Edison’s mind and took its place. It appeared to be the base of , only the scenery was distorted. The sky was pink, and the clouds were gray. The river that separated the over world from the base paused its flow, and the water was emerald green. The trees surrounding it were orange. Deepwind Mountain Edison attempted to explore the area, until he heard rustling in a nearby bush. “Is anybody in there?” he asked helplessly. The rustling stopped. He went over to the river and took a look inside of it. Little did he know that as he was doing this, a mysterious figure was rising out of the bush wielding a sledgehammer. The figure, presumably a man, was garbed in a blackish grey cloak, with a hood over his head, hiding his face. Around his neck were two diamond necklaces, which shone an eerie light in the pink sky. The man stepped out of the bush and silently approached Edison, whose back was still turned. Before the man could do anything, the imaginary area faded from Edison’s mind, and the image of Harpstring Manor returned.
“What are you doing asleep on the floor?” a voice exclaimed.
Edison found himself lying on the second floor corridor. He happened to look over at a painting of what appeared to be a female opera singer. “Was that you who just spoke to me?” he asked. “Why yes it was, darling. I was becoming worried. You just collapsed onto the floor. What happened?” she replied. Edison’s head was still aching from the fall. “I haven’t the slightest clue…” he admitted. “Something so strange is happening to me.” “Well, if you wish to leave this mansion, then you must follow this final instruction.” Edison listened closely to the woman. “If you wish to vanquish the Eccentric Old Lady, you must enter the last door of the right corridor. The final challenge awaits you there.” Edison took a deep breath. He knew that he would soon meet the old woman from his dream. With a firm hold of his sword and shield, he made his way down the right corridor, ready for battle. As he tried to open the last door, it didn’t open. “The key!” he recalled, reaching into his pocket and taking it out. Ever so carefully, he placed it inside of the door lock and turned the knob. It worked. On the other side of the door was a library that looked different from the rest of the mansion. The room had no paintings or even wallpaper, and was built out of stone. Four rows of bookshelves and a circulation desk sat over to the right. “What challenge awaits me here?” Edison asked out loud. In response to his question, a book flew out swiftly from one of the shelves. It fluttered about in Edison’s face, and the pages were flapping. “I must be losing my mind.” he remarked. “You certainly are not, my lad.” A voice said. “Would you care to follow me?” It asked. The book floated away from Edison, who moved forward to try to follow it. Suddenly, the floor beneath him began to shake. He looked up at the book. “Keep going, dear boy.” The voice taunted. Just as he took another step forward, the floor shook again, and this time the entire library flipped over. Edison started to fall down a deep, darkened hole where he was spinning around and around to the point of unconsciousness. Little did he know at that point he had fallen into a vortex.