The mansion stood as a monolith of medieval architecture, its imposing structure a testament to an era where grandeur and fortitude were paramount.
The edifice, tall and wide, sprawled across the landscape with an almost regal disdain for the passage of time. It rose three stories high, including an expansive attic that promised hidden secrets and forgotten memories.
The strong columns, reminiscent of ancient Roman pillars, bore the mansion's weight effortlessly. The exterior walls were clad in rich, weathered brown stone, giving the entire structure a rugged yet stately appearance.
The roof, also brown but darker from age and weathering, crowned the mansion like a knight's helm.
Inside, the mansion was a living museum, filled with various vintage works that seemed to transport its visitors hundreds of years into the past.
The parlor was a grand hall, illuminated by opulent chandeliers hanging from the high ceiling. These chandeliers, adorned with crystals, cast a warm, orange glow, bathing the room in a cozy yet luxurious light.
The floor was covered in plush, intricate carpets that muffled the sound of footsteps. The walls were lined with tapestries and paintings, each depicting scenes of historical significance or portraits of ancestors who once roamed these halls.
The furniture in the parlor was nothing short of exquisite. Antique armchairs with delicately carved wooden frames and upholstered in rich, brocade fabrics were arranged strategically around the room.
A grand fireplace dominated one wall, its mantel adorned with ornate candlesticks and an intricately designed clock that ticked softly, adding to the room's ambiance. Above the fireplace hung a large, imposing portrait of a stern-looking man in medieval attire, his piercing eyes seeming to follow visitors as they moved about the room.
As they moved through the parlor, Leonardo couldn't help but run his fingers along the surface of an elegant couch, feeling the soft, expensive fabric.
Though he hadn't sat on it, the couch exuded an aura of opulence, a testament to the wealth that this house represented.
The air was thick with the scent of polished wood and old books, a comforting aroma that spoke of long winters spent by the fire and generations of accumulated wisdom.
Uncle Richard led them through numerous guest rooms, each more lavish than the last, until they encountered the butler. "Ah, Geoffrey," Uncle Richard almost exclaimed, a rare note of warmth in his voice as he hurried towards the elderly man. Geoffrey, the butler, wore the traditional uniform of his station.
Unlike Leonardo, who was dressed similarly without the coat/vest, Geoffrey's coat was a masterpiece of tailoring, split at the back for ease of movement, and perfectly fitted to his slender frame.
Despite his advanced age, evident in the fine lines on his face and the silver in his hair, Geoffrey moved with the grace and precision of a much younger man. His gloves, white and impeccably crafted, were a symbol of his dedication to his duties.
"Would you be kind enough to patch the young man's face?" Uncle Richard asked, gesturing to Leonardo, whose brown skin was marred by a fresh cut.
Blood trickled slowly from the wound, each wipe only aggravating it further.
Since the incident, Elara had been incessantly concerned about Leonardo's well-being. "Are you okay?" she asked repeatedly, her voice tinged with worry. Her hands roamed over him, checking for injuries. Anna, though less demonstrative, still showed her concern. "Uncle Richard, what was that for?" she demanded, increasing her pace to keep up with him.
"Ah, Elara, I didn't notice you there," he replied flatly before a flicker of surprise crossed his features. "Elara? Don't tell me Anna is here too?"
"She is," Elara pointed back to Anna, who was examining a painting of Uncle Richard's great-grandfather. The bond between the Mortimers and Elara's family spanned generations, built on trust and trade within the tower. However, the Mortimers had left the tower seeking peace, away from the constant ranting of the sages.
"Uncle Richard," Anna said, her gaze fixed on the painting. It depicted a man in his mid-30s, well-built, holding his child while his wife lay beside him. They wore late medieval attire. The man's outfit resembled Bulgarian fashion with a gold-embroidered outer robe, a red sash, and a black cape with gold trim. His wife's gown was a cream-colored, floor-length silhouette with intricate embroidery, featuring dropped sleeves for an ethereal look. Their child's attire blended the colors of the parents' garments, symbolizing a surreal balance in the trio.
Finally pulling her eyes from the detailed painting, Anna asked coldly, "What happened to the Mortimers? How did one of the noble families in the tower get reduced to a minor estate in the far east? What pure rubbish."
"Ah, well, as they say," Uncle Richard's voice was dry, "a story has to end." He sighed, turning to continue walking with Elara.
[Present]
"Alright, sir, follow me," Geoffrey said to Leonardo, leading him to a room brimming with medicinal items and herbs. The scent of dried leaves and fresh herbs permeated the air, creating an almost intoxicating atmosphere. The room was lined with shelves, each filled with jars and bottles of various shapes and sizes. Herbs hung from the ceiling, drying in the warm air. A large, wooden table in the center of the room was covered with an array of medical instruments, from polished steel scalpels to ceramic bowls filled with various concoctions.
As Geoffrey worked to stop the minor bleeding with some medicinal herbs, Leonardo tried to make conversation. "So, Mr. Butler, sir," he began.
"You must be?" Geoffrey inquired, his hands deftly applying a poultice.
"Tour guide practical officer, Leonardo, sir," he responded in a Boy Scout tone.
"Tour guide? You seem incredibly young and…" Geoffrey gestured at his height, though he didn't question it further, continuing to say, "That's a mouthful, isn't it, your name and all?" Geoffrey remarked, a slight smile playing on his lips as he finished with the herbs and moved to retrieve a bandage.
"I mean," Leonardo pondered for a bit, "he is right it is a mouthful," he then sighed, "What do you know of tour guides?" he asked.
Ever since he arrived, he hadn't really asked Elara or Anna about the importance of tour guides, though they were always placed in high regard.
"Nothing really," Geoffrey said flatly. "Tour guides are as mysterious as things come, even the names are hard to figure out." He continued patching Leonardo up.
"Well, that's that," Geoffrey said as he finished patching the bandage and shooed Leonardo away. "Thank you," Leonardo managed to mutter before being ushered out of the room.
He walked through the hallway, not knowing where the girls were, but he heard a faint voice that reminded him of Anna. Walking past the numerous guest rooms he had once traversed, he reached the parlor with the chandelier above everything. He saw Elara and Anna talking to Richard about something, and as he walked closer, he eventually heard their conversation.
"Well, Leonardo is a tour guide. He should be able to help us," Elara said in an embarrassed tone.
"He couldn't catch a bow shot at him, and he's…" Richard gestured at Leonardo's size, holding his face in disbelief.
"I could help you find a better guide?" Uncle Richard sighed, his voice carrying the weight of years spent in the comfort of the known. "You already have everything you could ever need in the tower. Yet you could not ask your father for a guide?"
Anna's eyes sparked with a determination that belied her youthful appearance. "Uncle, Anna and I have spent our entire lives within those walls. I don't think we could have found a better guide and the rules of the quest I heard from my father do not allow it."
Richard's brow furrowed, a mix of frustration and concern etching lines on his face. "You're not a baby—"
"I technically am, Uncle," she interrupted, her voice steady and resolute.
Richard's eyes narrowed. He was acutely aware of the tradition—the once-in-every-500-years quest bestowed by a sage he for some reason tried to forget, as if blocking it using his subconscious. This time, Sage Rolhim had decreed that the quest was one of exploration, a quest only the heirs of the individual families can participate in.
His tone was tinged with a subtle resignation. The Mortimers had left the tower ostensibly in search of peace, a convenient cover for their true reasons. Richard's own desire to shield Anna from the harsh realities of their departure was palpable. He couldn't reveal the truth: that the family had distanced themselves to avoid the ridicule and pressure associated with the sage's quest. It was a strategic retreat masked as a quest for tranquility.
Anna, though sometimes acting with a childish zeal, was perceptive. She knew when information could be valuable, and she was not easily deterred.
Suddenly, the train's announcement echoed, signaling readiness to board. The sun was rising, the moon already fading. Most people were already starting to board.
"Well, Uncle, we'll have to go now," Elara said, bowing to him as a sign of departure.
"My blessings upon you," Richard said solemnly.
They began leaving the mansion, Leonardo following behind.
"Oh, you're here," Anna said, noticing him.
"I'm sorry for Uncle Richard," Elara said, looking over at Leonardo's face.
"It's alright; the butler banged it well."
"Is he your actual uncle?" Leonardo asked them. The train was in sight; they had spent a full hour there, most of it patching Leonardo's wounds.
"No, a distant one," Elara said.
"what do you mean?" Leonardo replied.
"You remember the painting with the man and his family?" Elara asked as the train announced another sound.
"Yeah?" Leonardo said.
"The woman was from our family. Think of it as a trade," Anna butted in.
[Adaptive Evolution Taking Effect]
"You guys trade peopl-?" he said in a tone of remorse, looking at the floating text rising,
"Leave that for another time. Let's go to the tower now," Elara said. The train was nothing but a few steps away.
[Enhanced perception (minimal)]
Leonardo was able to see the explosion happen a second early.
Not enough time to prevent it, but enough to brace for impact. The world seemed to slow down as he processed the scene.
Shards of glass and debris flew through the air in a deadly ballet, reflecting the rising sun's light. He grabbed Elara and Anna, pulling them to the ground as the shockwave hit.