Ribo's horse was one of the purebred steeds originally owned by a prestigious family in Eire, known for never selling their horses. This particular young stallion, only four years old, was from the second generation of the family's prized line of horses. Stealing four purebred stallions and mares was one of Mr. Haide's most celebrated achievements in his younger years.
The brilliance of Haide's feat was that the noble family was still unaware that their precious bloodline had made its way into the outside world. With these horses and a few strategic arrangements, Haide had convinced even the most stubborn elders of the council to acknowledge his noble lineage—allegedly a distant branch of a prominent noble family from Eire. In fact, if Haide had gifted just one pair of these horses to a duke, that influential figure might have even petitioned the king to grant him the title of baron. However, Haide seemed content with his title of lord, as it was enough to serve his purposes.
And now, for reasons known only to him, Haide had sent Ribo to this upcoming banquet on the back of this very purebred steed.
As Ribo rode along the forest path, which, despite being the main road from Pitten to Sersburg, was so thickly canopied with trees that it looked more like a small trail than a major thoroughfare. The road, wide enough to accommodate two carriages, was hidden beneath the dense forest cover.
After riding for about five or six miles, Ribo came upon a fork in the road. He knew that taking the left path and traveling another ten miles would bring him to the baron's villa. But just as he was making his way forward, the sound of thunder echoed in his ears, and lightning streaked across the sky, illuminating the entire forest.
Before Ribo could react, heavy raindrops began pelting the treetops. Although the thick foliage provided temporary shelter, Ribo knew it wouldn't last. He still had ten miles to go, and if he hurried, he might make it to the villa before getting completely drenched.
With that in mind, he spurred his horse forward, and the purebred stallion galloped swiftly down the path. The horse, too, seemed to sense the coming storm, as it ran with a sense of urgency, its hooves thundering on the ground. Another flash of lightning struck nearby, and Ribo instinctively slowed down.
Raindrops began to trickle through the gaps in the trees, landing on Ribo's face and body. Dust from the leaves mixed with the rain, creating dirty streaks that ran down his face and soaked into his clothes, trailing down his back.
The rain was heavier and more relentless than Ribo had anticipated. Just as he was considering his next move, he spotted a fallen tree blocking the road ahead. One side of the tree had been charred black by the very lightning that had struck moments ago.
The entire road was blocked, and the branches and leaves filled the spaces around the tree, making it impossible to go around. Clearing the debris would take too long, and with the rain pouring down even harder, Ribo knew he needed to make a decision quickly. He thought about turning back to Pitten, but he didn't have any money with him. Returning to the town wouldn't help.
Instead, he recalled the fork in the road. Perhaps there was another path leading deeper into the forest that could take him to the baron's villa. If not, he might find a house along the way where he could ask for directions or at least shelter.
With that thought, Ribo turned his horse around and headed back toward the fork. Riding through the rain was anything but pleasant. His hair, now soaked, stuck to his forehead, and the rain streaming into his eyes blurred his vision. His clothes, drenched through, clung to his skin, making him feel cold and uncomfortable.
The cold rain seemed to seep into his very bones, bringing with it a deep chill. Ribo urged his horse forward along the narrow path through the woods, the wind occasionally whipping wet leaves into his face with painful force.
At this point, Ribo wasn't concerned about the roughness of the road or whether his horse was tiring. All that mattered now was finding somewhere to escape the storm. Just as he was about to give up hope, he spotted the outline of a villa in the distance. Without hesitating, Ribo urged his horse toward the building.
When he got closer, Ribo was struck by the unusual design of the villa. A tall tower rose above the trees in the center of the structure, and the rest of the villa seemed to blend into the surrounding forest. The trees formed a natural arch over the building, shielding it completely from the rain. Not a drop seemed to penetrate the canopy.
Ribo tied his horse to a nearby tree and cautiously approached the front door, knocking gently.
"Who's there? What do you want?" came a frail, elderly voice from inside.
"My name is Ribo Haide. I'm just passing through and was caught in the rain. I was hoping to find some shelter. If it's not too much trouble, may I stay until the storm passes? If you're uncomfortable letting me inside, I can wait here under the cover outside," Ribo said, his voice trembling as he shivered in the cold wind, his body curled into a tight ball for warmth.
"It must be cold out there. Come inside," the elderly voice called again.
The door opened silently, and Ribo stepped inside, his eyes wide with wonder at what he saw. It was a completely different world. Despite the villa's three-story exterior, the interior consisted of just one large room.
The room was massive, with a glass column in the center that reached all the way up to the tower. Ribo wasn't even sure it was glass—he'd never seen glass that emitted a soft, blue glow.
The most striking feature of the room, aside from the glowing column, were the four large tables piled high with various experimental equipment. The tables were even bigger than the dining table back at the Haide estate, though the craftsmanship and materials were on a whole other level.
Each table, made from thick, solid oak, was covered with an array of strange objects. On two of the tables were numerous glass beakers, flasks, and vials of all shapes and sizes—some long, some round, some spiral, and others spherical. Inside, mysterious red and green liquids bubbled and boiled.
On the other two tables were delicate, intricate objects: a miniature dragon skeleton made from feathers, crude-looking dolls crafted from leather, thread, and small sticks, and tiny sprites fashioned from leaves and flowers.
Ribo couldn't identify the purpose or origin of any of these strange items. The walls were lined with massive cabinets, each drawer labeled with the names of various materials. The room was like a giant beehive, with every drawer serving as a honeycomb of stored items.
The cabinets extended all the way up to the ceiling, and a series of long, winding staircases lined the walls to give access to the higher drawers. Despite all the bizarre objects in the room, the only thing that seemed normal was a simple rocking chair.
Ribo looked around, but he couldn't see the owner of the voice that had invited him inside. Where could the elderly man be hiding?
As if in answer to his unspoken question, the voice called out again, this time from the top of the tower. "It's been a long time since I've had a visitor. Young man, if you're curious, you can come up here."
"Thank you for your hospitality, sir. I'd be honored to meet you, but how do I get up there?" Ribo asked, glancing at the staircase that didn't appear to reach the top.
"Oh, silly me! I'm getting old and forgetful. Just step into the glass column in the middle of the room," the man said with a chuckle.
Following the instructions, Ribo stepped into the transparent column at the center of the room. He was now certain that this was no ordinary glass. It was soft to the touch, almost like gelatin, and it gave off a gentle warmth. A man-sized opening on one side of the column allowed him to step inside.
Once inside, Ribo felt an invisible force lifting him off the ground. He rose slowly, leaving behind the tables, the rocking chair, and the cabinets, as they grew smaller below him.
The sensation was both exhilarating and unsettling. Ribo had never experienced anything like this before—it was as if he were floating in the air. His eyes widened as he tried to comprehend what was happening. There were no ropes, no pulleys, nothing holding him up. Yet, he continued to ascend higher and higher.
As he rose, Ribo became lost in the surreal feeling of flying. Then, suddenly, his surroundings changed dramatically. He found himself at the top of the tower, with a breathtaking view of the vast, dark forest stretching out before him like a sea of green waves.