I cast a shaky glance around and slowly got to my feet. Struggling to stand, I focused on my surroundings. It was pitch dark. A fire had been lit. This was evident from the crackling sounds it made as it burned. If a fire was lit, why was it so dark around? There wasn't even the dim light of the fire.
I waited, hoping my eyes would adapt to the environment so I could see. I was still looking around. Suddenly, the surroundings were dimly illuminated by purple lights. I felt like I was in a purple hell. It was a world surrounded by dancing purple flames, where pitch-black souls silently roamed, resembling shadows but lifelike. One of them passed by me but did nothing.
As I questioned my own existence, I checked my hands. Had I died? If I had died and this was hell, I should be like these souls. But I was normal. I couldn't tell if I belonged to this strange realm. My eyes caught other souls, but then I saw someone who hadn't turned like me.
Approaching me with a sly smile, that person said, "Welcome to the realm of the dead." I reexamined this man and the purple hell, pondering what fate awaited me here, as I tried to unravel the secrets of my own existence.
In the deadly scene surrounding us, amidst the smoky atmosphere, agonizing screams, and dark crevices, we conversed. Amidst the strange serenity of hell, he gazed at me with vacant eyes.
"Am I dead?" I asked him, looking at him with worried eyes.
Amidst the fiery visage of hell, the sparking volcanoes, and terrifying sights, the person examining me replied with an emotionless expression, "My soul is trapped in limbo, and that's why I'm like this. Probably your situation too."
With a worried look, I asked, "Does this mean I'm dead?"
"I'm not sure," he replied again with his sinister gaze and smirk. Extending his right arm to me, he added, "Would you like to make a deal with the devil?"
In astonishment, I asked, "What devil? What are you talking about?"
"I'm someone referred to as the devil in the realm of the living," he said, pausing. I think he was about to say something more. He ran his hands through his dirty beard. After some thought, he said, "But I don't think I'm the devil."
"Then why did you call yourself the devil?"
"My thoughts have changed. In fact, they're still changing. I'm questioning," he shared, as we focused on the hellish scenery around us. With a gentle breeze, his long, wavy hair danced in the air. It was strange to be in hell, but surprisingly comforting.
"I guess the inhabitants of hell have stopped rebelling and started behaving. We're rewarded with the wind. Anyway..."
"Why do you want to make a deal with me?" I asked, curiosity lingering.
His eyes filled with sadness. "I want my soul to find peace, but I don't know how to do it. I feel like I'm slowly losing myself. My soul is being erased from here," he struggled with despair amidst the turmoil of hell, grappling with the pain of losing his own existence.
"How can I help you with that?"
"I don't know," he said, his voice tinged with sorrow. He sighed, bearing the weight of past pains in his tone.
"Can I escape from here?"
"You will escape from here eventually. By the way, my questioning is over. I think I am the devil. Like him, I used to be an angel, but there's a difference. I was forced to become the devil."
It was evident that he had experienced terrible things in his past. I felt sorry for him, but tried not to show it. Looking at him sincerely, I said, "If I knew how to help, I would gladly do it."
He responded as if he understood my feelings, "You're pure enough to pity even the devil. My soul was tainted from the moment I was born, kid. I don't want to corrupt your purity. You've spent too much time in the realm of the dead. It's time to return to your body."
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She buttoned up a few buttons on her dress and straightened it out. She walked away. Princess Amber looked at herself in the mirror and smiled. She felt the sparkle of the transparent stones adorned with golden details as the light tulle skirt of her cream-colored dress danced in the wind. Though a bit simple, the princess seemed to love this dress. After the maid left, Amber gracefully swayed the voluminous tulle sleeves as she stepped out of her room. In the corridor, she encountered her uncle.
Shouldn't he be in his own palace right now? What was he doing here?
"Do you know what's been happening?" he asked.
Amber's eyes sparkled with curiosity at her uncle's question. "What happened?"
"The dragon attacked the ring, damn it. One of my servants escaped. He killed her too."
Despite being a prince, he never behaved like one and spoke in his usual casual manner. At first, it was unsettling for Amber, accustomed to formality, but she had gradually grown accustomed to her uncle's ways; the presence of a prince who pushed the boundaries of formality.
"And has the dragon been stopped?" she asked with concern in her eyes.
The prince replied again in an informal tone. "Someone stopped it, but they used the Justice Sword. They've caught that kid now."
Upon hearing this, worry spread across her face.
"And before you ask, yes, my brother knows about this. The last time I saw him, he was very angry."
Despite still feeling anxious, she tried not to show it and said to her uncle with a polite smile, "If they've retrieved the sword, then there shouldn't be any problem. Thank you for informing me."
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He opened his eyes. He found himself in a damp, somewhat dark, and heavy-air cell. After that dream, he had a strange feeling; this couldn't be an ordinary dream. Several of the guards who had been chasing him were standing in front of him. In the midst of the guards stood a man dressed like a noble. Could this be the duke? he wondered.
"Give me the sword," the man said firmly.
"If I give it to you, will you get me out of here?" he asked.
He thought for a moment. "You are a thief. In fact, you should be executed, but we might overlook that just this once."
"So, if I give you the sword, will you get me out of here?" he repeated his question. He wanted to make sure because he didn't trust them.
His answer was definite, which relieved Stephen. "Yes."
He took off the ring from his finger and handed it over, but the ring disappeared again.
"You're not giving it willingly. That's why it disappears," the man said.
"No, I gave it willingly. I really want to get out of here," Stephen insisted.
"Then try again."
"But the ring disappeared."
"You have to want the ring with you. It teleports instantly anyway."
He closed his eyes and thought of the ring. He had found it on his index finger, just as the man had said. Excitedly, he quickly handed the ring to them, but the same thing happened again.
"Take the boy to the torture chamber!" As soon as Stephen heard this order, he was about to plead again, but the man silenced him with a spell. He tried to open his mouth but couldn't. It was as if his lips were glued together.
Two guards pushed open the door of the cell and entered, grabbing him by the arms. He resisted, so they dragged him out. He was still kicking with his feet, but it was futile.
"Behave yourself!" they yelled as they moved towards the torture chamber. Meanwhile, they came across the man dressed like a noble. Wait, wasn't this man with us already? He turned to his right, and there he was. There were two of that man. Stephen tried to make sense of the situation with empty eyes, while the guards were thoroughly confused.
"Where are you taking that boy?"
"That's none of your concern! You've used dark magic to disguise yourself as me. Guards, seize him!" he said with a voice trembling with anger.
"Wait. It's actually him who's taken on my appearance. Shape-shifting isn't dark magic; it's done with a potion. How can he be a master of magic if he doesn't know that?"
"No, I sense dark energy from you," he said firmly.
After some thought, they decided that the new person they encountered was the palace sorcerer. They were going to interrogate him a bit as well.
"We're taking the boy to the torture chamber, Your Excellency."
"His Majesty wants him interrogated, but he emphasized that it shouldn't involve torture. Whose orders did you receive?"
The guards exchanged blank looks. Then one of them said, "We received it from you, Your Excellency. It was your command." However, this answer only raised more suspicion.
"He has changed his decision. He wants him to undergo interrogation without torture. Besides, I will conduct the interrogation."
"Will you really believe him? The real master of magic is Henry, me. Although, why am I even trying to prove myself?" After saying this, he conjured a sphere in his hand. He was planning to attack the other Henry. The other one realized this and immediately took a defensive stance. The guard who was still holding Stephen told the others, "Back off."
"You take the boy to the torture chamber but do nothing. The winner of this duel will prove to be the real Henry. You will obey his orders."
The guards followed his instructions without questioning and hurriedly took the boy to the torture chamber, securing him with a rope.
"Do you think he'll escape from here?"
"He probably can't do magic. If he could, he would have escaped by now."
Meanwhile, the magical conflict between the real and fake Henry added a mysterious atmosphere to the room. As the shimmering spheres clashed with each other, the guards observed this extraordinary struggle.
Suddenly, the guards noticed the silence and saw a man approaching. They quickly went to Stephen's side, and the door opened. The man entered. "I am the real Henry," he said confidently. "I won the duel. Now get out of here. I will interrogate the boy."
"How are we supposed to believe that?"
"If you want, you can go outside and check. That man is lying unconscious out there."
One of the guards went outside to check, and indeed, as he said, the man was lying unconscious in the middle of the corridor. He returned to the room and informed the others. After learning this, they all went outside together.
"Finally, it's just the two of us."
"What are you trying to do? It's evident that you don't want to interrogate me, yet you managed to convince those guards with a ridiculous method. Are you going to harm me?"
"Actually, it wasn't ridiculous."
"Please answer my question."
"Calm down, kid. I am your ally," he said, and then black fumes enveloped him. When they dissipated, the foolish man he referred to stood before him.
Oh God... What am I experiencing in a single day?
Stephen was in turmoil. His hands were trembling, but when he started to think, the trembling subsided. He decided to interrogate the man before him.
"Are you doing this to gain my trust? But why? What benefit can I provide you?" There was still some doubt inside him, and it was obvious. He awaited the answer with curiosity.
The man before him fell silent for a moment. Then, taking a deep breath, he said, "I'm doing this not for gain but for your well-being." Stephen sensed a sincerity in his tone that he hadn't felt before.
With irony, skepticism, and a hint of excitement in his voice, he asked, "Are you my parent then?"
"No, no, no. There's not even a resemblance between us."
"Then why are you doing this?"
Before an answer came, there was a few seconds of silence. The man seemed to be pondering something, perhaps hiding a secret.
"You will learn this when the time comes, Stephen. For now, we must escape from here," he said in a mysterious tone.