In the dimly lit room, the air felt heavy and suffocating, laced with a hint of despair. Shadows danced on the stone walls as the flickering candlelight cast eerie shapes. April sat huddled in the corner of her bed, her heart pounding in her chest. Her stomach growled loudly—a painful reminder of the hunger gnawing at her. Her wide eyes darted toward the door as a knock echoed through the room, ominous and unsettling.
Time seemed to slow. Her breath caught as the door creaked open, revealing the imposing figure of the Dark Lord Magellan. He stood there, his tall frame casting an elongated shadow on the floor, exaggerated by the dim hallway and flickering candles behind him. His dark robes billowed slightly as if stirred by a hidden wind. His eyes, shrouded in darkness, fixed on April, their gaze piercing through the gloom.
A shiver ran down April's spine under his intense stare. Her fingers trembled as she clutched the edge of the bed, her mind racing with uncertainty. She swallowed hard, her mouth dry, and managed to stammer, "Who's there?"
The Dark Lord's lips curled into a deceptive smile, a glint of amusement in his eyes. "Ah, Gene- April. I hope I'm not disturbing you," he said, his voice echoing in the chamber. (He had almost called her Genevieve, his dark Queen.) "My dear, it is I, Magellan," he announced, his voice carrying a strange blend of charm and menace. The name echoed in the air, its weight settling over her like a heavy fog.
"Magellan?" April repeated, her voice barely a whisper, her heart still pounding. She had no idea who this menacing figure was.
Magellan's smile grew mischievous, his eyes glinting in the faint candlelight. "Indeed, my child. You can call me Magellan. No need for formalities," he replied, his voice lowering to a near-whisper, each word hanging in the air like a dark promise. "May I come in?"
April hesitated, torn between fear and curiosity. Slowly, she nodded, her gaze locked onto his. As he stepped closer, she realized she recognized him—it was the kind man from the meeting room, or so she thought. Although she felt slightly less threatened, the air thickened as his presence filled the room. The candle flames flickered, casting eerie shadows across the walls.
"What the hell... Did Nikolas forget to pay the light bill or something? These flickering lights do make me look cool, though. Feels like a metal concert in here and across the whole castle," Magellan muttered to himself.
As he moved closer, April's fear mingled with uncertainty. A strange tension hung in the air, an undercurrent of hidden motives in Magellan's words. Her mind raced, trying to decipher his intentions, but his demeanor remained an enigma. "So, how's the weather?" Magellan asked, trying to distract April and ease her fear. She didn't respond, only staring at him.
Feeling ignored, Magellan shifted his gaze to her tired eyes and trembling form. He chuckled softly, the sound carrying a warmth that seemed out of place. "My dear, you seem rather hungry," he observed, gesturing to her slightly trembling form.
April's stomach growled again, the noise loud in the hushed room. She flushed, feeling vulnerable under his scrutiny. "I haven't eaten in days," she admitted quietly.
A spark of amusement flickered in Magellan's eyes. She's finally speaking more, he thought. "Ah, my apologies for neglecting your needs. I've been... busy." He spoke with faux regret. "Berta!" he called, his voice commanding.
The maid, Berta, entered the room, her timid demeanor a stark contrast to Magellan's authority. "Yes, my lord?" she whispered.
"You had one job—to look after Gene- April. Why is she in this state? You'll be punished for this," Magellan snapped angrily.
Berta trembled, unable to speak. "No, Magellan, it's my fault! Don't punish her... I refused to do anything she told me. Please don't hurt her," April pleaded, her voice rising in desperation.
"Hmm, you're lucky April's taken a liking to you," Magellan mused. "Go fetch some food for our guest," he ordered, his tone stern. "Something... delicious, if you please."
Berta, frozen with fear, nodded quickly and hurried out of the room, leaving April alone with the Dark Lord. As the door closed, Magellan's gaze returned to April, a soft smile playing on his lips.
"Please, make yourself comfortable," he said, gesturing to the room. "Though, the state of this place is rather... dreadful. We'll have to fix that, won't we?" He muttered under his breath, "Well, I can't really blame Nikolas. I was the one who wanted a cool castle and rejected that cheap studio apartment."
Despite her fear, a hint of amusement flickered in April's eyes. The situation had taken an unexpected turn—a strange mix of dark humor in the midst of uncertainty.
Magellan's smile deepened, his eyes glinting with amusement, as if he were in on a private joke. "Rest assured, my dear April," he said, his voice warm but deceitful. "Your comfort is my top priority... Also, I've just received word that your father will be here soon. Actually... he works for my company. He asked us to take care of you until he gets back." Magellan paused, searching for words. "This is... a theater, yes, a theater. We provide costumes for movies. He's out working, but he'll be back soon... Trust me."
Just as he finished speaking, both Magellan and April spotted a henchman walking by—a gaunt figure, almost skeletal, wearing a helmet that definitely didn't belong to a human. Suddenly, the creature's helmet slipped off, revealing... no head at all. It hastily grabbed the helmet and placed it back on, leaving both April and Magellan to exchange glances. Magellan wore a goofy grin, while April looked visibly disappointed. The lie was so terrible and unbelievable that the nearby henchmen passing by the open door slapped their foreheads in silent dismay.
"Uhh... Yeah, I need to give that guy a big raise... He's really, uh, good at his job," Magellan said, his words punctuated with an awkward laugh.
April, though young, wasn't stupid. She could tell she was in deep trouble. But for now, the best course of action was to play along. She nodded as if she understood, pretending to believe the absurd story.
As the room's tension shifted, the candle's flame continued to flicker, casting dancing shadows that mirrored the complexities of the moment. Surrounded by eerie darkness and the enigmatic figure before her, April found herself ensnared in a web of intrigue she couldn't yet unravel.
"My Lord, the sorceress Eva requests your presence," a random henchman announced from the doorway.
Magellan flashed a quick smile at April. "I must go now, April. Be a good girl," he said before leaving the room. Though her fear subsided slightly, April remained determined to escape if the opportunity presented itself.
Meanwhile, the castle's meeting room—situated at its heart—exuded a gothic charm. The dim light from the torches cast eerie shadows on the walls, their movements resembling twisted phantoms. The room, a multipurpose space, served as a library, living room, and game room, filled with ancient tapestries, statues, and paintings. But amidst the grandeur, a giant OLED TV and a console stood out like a sore thumb.
Magellan strode into the room, his presence commanding attention. His dark robes absorbed the wavering light, enhancing his mysterious aura. "I really need my own theme song... I'm just too awesome," he mused to himself.
Eva, confident and composed, awaited him. Her sharp eyes glinted with intelligence. The henchmen, mere silhouettes in the background, added to the eerie ambiance. Magellan greeted her with a sly smile. "Ah, Eva," he said warmly, gesturing toward the grand obsidian table at the room's center. "It appears our... cozy gathering has begun," he added, adopting a regal tone.
Eva's gaze flickered to the table before returning to Magellan. "Indeed, my lord," she replied, her voice steady. "I trust your day has been... eventful?"
Magellan let out a soft chuckle, a mix of amusement and something deeper. "Ah, my dear Eva, you don't look a day over 90. I see you're doing well," he teased, though she was clearly in her sixties.
They settled into conversation as the torchlight flickered across the ornate silverware adorning the table. "Damn, I need new plates too," Magellan thought as he drifted in and out of focus, distracted by Eva's report.
Outside, the wind howled against the castle walls, a haunting melody echoing the night. Eva spoke in detail about her recent encounter with Bruce and his two companions. Magellan's gaze remained fixed on her, his expression an enigmatic blend of curiosity and intrigue.
"Tell me, dear Eva," Magellan interrupted, his voice dripping with curiosity, "did you find their bravery amusing?"
Eva smiled faintly, her tone mirroring his. "Indeed, my lord. Their resourcefulness was... noteworthy. Especially Bruce. I honestly thought he wouldn't survive in my apartment, considering how gravely injured he was. Gloria saving him with my old spell book? That was impressive."
Magellan leaned back in his chair, mischief glinting in his eyes. "Ah, resourcefulness. A trait we can both appreciate, can't we?" He mused, though his attention was now shifting toward the TV, where a game had started playing.
The conversation veered from the troublesome trio to their grand plans on the horizon. Magellan's fingers tapped rhythmically on the table as he mentally weighed his next move. He was eager to wrap up the conversation—there was a game on, and he wanted to watch it.
Eva's inquiries turned to Nikolas, Magellan's dependable but enigmatic second-in-command. The room seemed to hold its breath as her question hung in the air. Magellan's expression barely shifted, but his eyes narrowed slightly.
"Nikolas," he began with an air of mystery, "is like a wisp of smoke—elusive yet vital. Rest assured, his role in our grand design remains as intricate as the shadows themselves. He's off on an assignment, but he'll be back soon. Trust me." Once again, Magellan was spewing nonsense to maintain the façade of a grand ruler.
Outside, the moonlight filtered through tall windows, casting an ethereal glow across the stone floor. As the conversation wound down, Magellan stood, his smile both captivating and unreadable. "Ah, my dear Eva," he said with a hint of seriousness, "our partnership is like a gas station and a fuel pump... one cannot function without the other. You are an essential part of my plans."
Eva blinked in confusion at the odd metaphor but nodded. "Yes, my lord... I'll take my leave."
Magellan's laughter echoed through the room as she left. As soon as she was gone, he grabbed a bowl of popcorn, sat back, and focused on the game playing on the giant TV.
---
Thousands of miles away, morning broke in a run-down motel. Inside, Henry abruptly shoved Bruce off the bed. "Today's the day... we've got to find Big Sam. We've got to go to Cugeria," Henry said, while Bruce groggily tried to wake up. Today was indeed important. Big Sam was their only way to reach Cugeria—and their only chance to save April.