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.
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?
The hike up
was exhausting. Deepwind Mountain 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.