The wind hit his long hair uncontrollably like gusts, his face was obscured by the branches that did not allow the passage of the sun.
Under this scene, Federick took the helm and approached his great-uncle. With his step gradually increasing, eventually his shoulders have only the difference in heights.
"Magic is complicated, but not impossible to perform. Listen well, and have your own understanding." Christopher said.
His expression was serious, one that progressively obtained an undisguised smile. For the first time in his life, he had understood the thought of an old man.
"I pray for the superior worldview of 'him'. Who has kept an undefeated record, saint of combat, messenger of all living things and lord of hosts; The Undefeated Golden Blue." Christopher recited.
Its song was loud, penetrating hundreds of meters. The sun made an appearance at his invocation, illuminating the area.
"Open the world channels, make use of your power, capable of destroying objective truths."
The spilled blood began to boil, rise to levitate. The herbs were extinguished before an unconquered fire.
Space was drawn and time became slow. Federick lost consciousness and the brightness increased to the point of blinding.
When Federick opened his eyes again, his surroundings were no longer the same. Exchanged for a completely different one.
A spacious hall, its walls tall and imposing, the foundation attesting to the cold, callous engineering that had gone into its construction. The interior was a drab, industrial gray. The gate was made of thick and heavy metal, flanked by two pillars that seemed to rise endlessly like gigantic stone sentinels, contained by a dark red ceiling that simulated the sky at the end of its days.
Inside, it was cold and unforgiving. The walls were festooned with rows of fluorescent lights that cast a sickly yellow glow on the sterile gray surfaces. The floors were polished concrete, the air smelled of dust and stale air.
Despite its cold and callous aesthetic, the building had a strange charm. Attractive for its dark and imposing presence.
Federick felt lost and disoriented, as if he had entered a different world.
"Reality can be an illusion." Christopher said.
Taking the lead, he headed for the heavy and imposing gates. Behind him, he was followed by a confused young man.
The floors, once polished and shiny, now creaked underfoot, their surfaces scratched.
"Despite its aesthetics, it's actually an old mansion. Surprised, right?" Christopher said.
The lighting, low and dim, seemed to strive to penetrate the darkness, casting eerie shadows on the walls and creating an atmosphere of foreboding.
Christopher usually displayed an open personality, a fact sequenced by his unlimited recurring moves. But at this moment it was different, being reserved before the environment that permeated the construction.
"Are you sure this isn't a psychiatric hospital?" Federick asked sarcastically.
At this, he only received a strange look from Christopher.
"Are you always this stupid?" Christopher asked sincerely.
"I think I infected me recently, through prolonged contact." Frederick responded.
"According to the old man who lives here, one must not show concern or he will go at the foolish word." Christopher said.
After pronouncing these words, his expression became distant. He experienced the remote peak of an intellectual after having made a superior moral judgment.
Although the fact that he had executed a magic spell on the young man, it was not an act that evidenced his truth.
A mute Federick could not protest or refute the higher truth.
Their pace did not vary, taking different directions, passing through different doors.
The heat of life seemed to have been sucked out, leaving behind a cold, unfeeling atmosphere. The walls, hung with faded portraits, seemed to loom over the space, casting long shadows that stretched out like skeletal fingers.
The corridors were long and confusing, capable of introducing a genius to madness.
The air was heavy with a scent of decay and abandonment, as if the very fabric of the manor heaved a sigh of despair.
"Don't pee in your pants, young Prince." Christopher said mockingly, enjoying the silence.
The furniture, once grand and elegant, now bore witness to the passage of time; its once-luxurious cushions were worn and faded, the wood aged and cracked. Dust motes danced in the dim light that filtered through the windows, casting a bleak pallor over the entire space.
The interior of the mansion was a place where time seemed to stand still, a place where the joys and laughter of life had long since died out, leaving behind a cold, unfeeling shell, dark and gloomy. It was a place that seemed to whisper secrets of yesteryear that were better left unsaid.
"Next, Federick, show respect, since as you may have noticed, the atmosphere is gloomy and there are reasons for it to be so." Christopher said facing a door.
With his superior strength, he pushed the heavy, flawless doors aside.
Inside was a stark contrast to the outside. Widely lit, hanging a colorful chandelier above the white marble ceiling.
The restlessness that had woven the exterior was instantly wiped clean and purged under the minimalist feel of the interior.
Four marble pillars extended from the four different corners of the room, which matched two thrones that were located in the central area.
Christopher took the lead, closing in on Alexandro and Carlos II, who lay comfortably.
"Old man! You can't even stimulate a smile, but you're pretty funny." Christopher said with a loud laugh.
His laughter penetrated the serene and silent environment, attracting chaos.
"You're pretty loud." Carlos II expressed calmly.
"You... you surely knew." Christopher came to a revelation.
Despite the usually frivolous expression of Carlos II, on this occasion he could not hide it. His teeth showed, his grin gigantic. An obvious mocking and superior expression in front of Christopher.
Suddenly, a voice eroded by the passage of time echoed in the minds of the three individuals.
"Please be quiet in front of an old man. I am worn out and listen to his racket, pity my ears." Alexandro expressed.
"Old man, weren't you deaf too?" Christopher uttered furiously, his teeth rubbing against their surfaces.
"My bones and joints may be slightly worn, but my sense of humor is not. Please calm down, you are already an old man and you will soon supplant me." Alexander transmitted.
"Pretty silly of you, Christopher." Carlos II said containing his smile.
"Shut up too, Carlos. After all, they share the same condition. The main focus belongs to the young, like little Federick." Alexander transmitted.
The protagonist to whom the focus had shifted was simply fulfilling the task of a spectator.
"Are you angry, Federick?" Alexandro asked understandingly.
"Just a little disappointed." Federick said honestly and reservedly.
His previous thoughts had been suppressed under the strange atmosphere that belonged to the mansion.
Alexandro, who couldn't move his neck, continually observed Federick's expressions.
"You are brave, it is your first time here after all. Instead, these two old men almost urinated themselves at the time." Alexandro transmitted with slight mockery.
"Indeed, I found your movement quite strange, old man. Have you lost your ancient teachings, or is it due to your current post-mortem state?" Christopher said.
"Even little Federick's decency exceeds yours, Chris..." Alexandro transmitted with an imaginary sigh.
"Your curiosity amazes me, so I'll tell you a story."
...
In the distant past, a young lord from a village called "Godis", lived in the grasslands, in a disorganized and unprofessional manner. They led a simple life, cultivating the land and herding animals. However, his peaceful existence was threatened when a powerful, warlike, and monarchical society began to expand its territories, trying to conquer the lands occupied by his clan, the Godis people.
The monarchical society was ruled by a tyrannical king who believed in the superiority of his people and thirsted for unfulfilled ambitions. He wanted to conquer the neighboring lands in gray form.
The young man, son of the clan leader, saw the threat that the monarchical society posed to his people and decided to take action. He began to spread anti-monarchist revolutionary ideals among his people, inspiring them to fight against their oppressors. He knew it was a losing battle, but he was determined to persevere.
One by one, the lands fell before the power shown, and soon, it was the turn of the Godis people. The organized army surrounded them, and the young lord knew their time was running out. He gathered his people and prepared them for the final battle.
The battle was fierce, with the young lord fighting with all his might, but being vastly outnumbered and outmatched. Just when it seemed all was lost, a plot twist occurred. The contrary and tyrannical king saw a seedling that held promise, a young man who was not afraid to defend what he believed in, even in the face of certain defeat.
For this, the king concluded a deal with the young man: he would spare the lives of the Godis people if they agreed to join his ranks.
Like lightning starting a forest fire, the young lord was indecisive. He had spent his entire life fighting, persevering and honing in on his ideals. After much thought, he decided to accept the king's offer. On the basis that his people would be saved and prosper.
A plot twist typical of fate, stupid and funny, frivolous and insensitive, without thinking about the impact it produces on the individuals it affects.
Stupid in its theatrical form, funny in its meaning, frivolous and insensitive in deciding the fate of the young lord of the Godis people. Who had sleepless nights, who kept the scepter in his hands, becoming the significant spiritual pillar for countless creatures... Being the Godis people, just one of them.
...
"There is no positive or negative climax, only the completion of a natural cycle." Alexander expressed.
His eyes slowly moved to the figure of a silent and respectful Federick.
"I suppose they would have received nothing from the cave, but the young man's earnings must not have been nil." Alexander finished.
"You are an old bastard as always." Christopher said without repair.
His inner complaint revolved around his zero earnings...