Wednesday, November 24, 2010

Edison's Dream ~ Chapter Two ~ Part Two

The imaginary cliff Edison stood on started to fade into nothingness. He thought he could see an envelope floating in the distance. Without thinking, he jumped off the cliff and tried to grab it. Unfortunately, he plummeted straight down into the imaginary country that lay below. After he landed on his back, he instantly woke up. The entire ceiling of his house was gone, and there were holes visible in all of the walls. He stood up and rubbed his head. Looking around, he could see pieces of old furniture lying everywhere. He was shocked when he saw what was on the floor. It was the same envelope that he saw in his dream, wrapped in a blue satin ribbon. “But it was just a dream…” he assured himself. It was torn completely on the left side, almost as if it was ripped out of a book. He slowly reached for it, and began to read the following.

If the Ballad of the Thieves is what you wish to play,
Prepare for the most unlucky day.
Monsters shall arrive and raid your place,
And capture loved ones leaving no trace.
This dark illusion you shall never redeem,
You will wish this was a dream.

Edison was horrified. He was overwhelmed with sadness and anger, and fell to the floor. Another imaginary environment was forming in his mind. This time, Edison saw himself inside of a hotel room, lying in a bed. Nothing but pink sky could be seen through the window on the left. To the right of the room was a fireplace which was burning brightly. In front of Edison stood a door, where he heard a knocking sound. He crept out of the bed and tiptoed over to it. There it was again, only this time it was louder. Edison heard the voice of what sounded like an old lady speaking.

He’s still asleep, he’s still asleep,
I wanted him to help me sweep;
He’s probably in there all alone,
I can hear a fearful moan.

At this point, he was very fretful. He stepped back from the door and crawled back into the bed. The old lady’s voice spoke again.

Harpstring Manor, my home on the peak,
Won’t you join me for a cup of tea?

Edison jumped to his feet and raced to the door. He tried to open it, but the imaginary hotel room faded into a blur. The next thing he knew he was back laying in his dilapidated house. This time around, Edison was determined to go search for his loved one. He stood up and grabbed his sword and shield, the only items that miraculously survived the blast. He entered into a room which once was his bedroom. He looked around for something familiar. Strangely, lying on the floor in perfect condition was a map of Portrainia. Edison picked it up and studied it carefully. Harpstring Manor was situated at the top of Deepwind Mountain, which lies in the Extrarus Territory. It was northwest of Hollowmill. Since he knew where he was going, he tucked the map carefully into his pocket, as his long journey would soon begin.

          The hike up Deepwind Mountain was exhausting. Edison was still aching from limb to limb. He required the use of his sword and shield several times, in order to fend off creatures that lurked the hills. Eventually, Edison reached the peak, and there before him stood Harpstring Manor, the place that the old lady spoke of in his dream. It was three storeys high, built entirely out of flagstone. On the rooftop there was a widow’s walk. Courageously, Edison walked up to the front veranda and rang the doorbell. “Come inside, you’ve been expected…” echoed a voice that sounded similar to the old lady. He took a deep breath, and turned the knob. When he stepped inside, he was baffled by the awkwardly designed foyer. The décor looked unusual, and rather eccentric to the eye. In the center of the room sat a spiral staircase that never seemed to end. Edison slowly climbed the stairs and reached the second floor. On the wall was an inscription. On a closer look, he read it aloud to himself, “A lonely old woman, who lives in her home, through these corridors do you dare to roam?” On each side there were corridors that seemed endless. Edison felt uneasy as he took a step down the left corridor. The walls were lined with paintings of important looking people and colorful landscapes from Portrainia. “Would you happen to be lost, young man?” a booming voice spoke to Edison, who nearly jumped out of his skin. “Who said that?” he asked fearfully. Something made him turn to one of the paintings, particularly one of an older gentleman with a handlebar mustache and one glass eye. His eye seemed to be peering down at Edison. “Ha ha, did I scare you, child? Do not worry, there is nothing to fear.” The older man in the painting said. “You must be cautious. An Eccentric Old Lady lives in this mansion, and possesses the powers of a witch. In order to make it out of here alive, you must solve her puzzles. Do you understand, young man?” Edison nodded his head in disbelief that he was actually listening to a painting speak to him. “Splendid! Now, you must proceed to the third floor and enter the fourth door in the right corridor.” The man finished.

Edison returned to the staircase and climbed up to the third floor. The corridors were decorated in navy blue wallpaper, a different color than the second floor. He counted the doors and found the fourth one. He carefully turned the doorknob and poked his head inside. It was a sewing room. On one of the tables next to a window was a key. “I don’t like surprises…” whispered Edison while he tiptoed into the room and approached the table. All seemed normal for the moment. It was just a simple sewing room. He swiped the key and ran out, as the door slammed behind him. As he walked away, he heard another voice, this time from a woman. “Ah, you retrieved the key I see?” she said. Edison rolled his eyes and looked at each of the paintings. “And which one are you?” he asked in disbelief. One of the paintings rumbled. It was one of a slightly pudgy woman wearing a feather boa and an opera mask. “That key is used to open a door, one that lies on the second floor.” she said. “Thank you, madam.” Edison replied, questioning his sanity. The painting winked her eye at him, and he set off downstairs to the second floor. He started down the left corridor and tried the key in every door. No luck. As he walked back to the staircase, a massive headache overcame him. The environment in front of him seemed to shrink and blur. “What’s…happening…to…me…?” he grunted as he fell to the ground.

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