102. Night of Revelations
The soft light at the end of the tunnel could not have come soon enough for the squeamish young princess. It had been
a long crawl through a cramped and dirty tunnel. The many tiny pebbles that bit into her tender knees through her skirt
didn’t make the journey any more comfortable. As she reached the end of the tunnel, she awkwardly turned herself
around so that she could lower herself out feet first.
The drop was not far at all, and the light she had seen came from a flickering torch secured in a wall sconce. Night had
been standing over a large wooden table, hands spread out in front when he heard the girlish grunts of the princess
dropping in. Turning quickly with a flap of mysterious black cloak, he greeted her with a smile.
“Rosella, I’m so glad you’re okay!” Only to be caught off guard by her throwing her slender arms around him in an
excited hug.
“Oh, Night! I thought you were…” but she stopped before she said it.
“By a couple of goons? Hardly, my dear. Why I should tell you about the time…” but this time he stopped, seeing
Rosella fix him with a raised eyebrow, hands on her slender hips. “Though perhaps another time,” he coughed turning
back toward the table he had so intently been inspecting before she dropped in.
Rosella giggled before peering around his shoulder to see what it was that held the adventurer’s attention so fixed.
There was a large parchment unrolled over the large wooden tabletop. Another parchment was rolled up off to the side
of the open one. At first glance, it was obvious that it was a map. Peering at the locations depicted on the large sheet,
the princess could see the Dwarves’ mine, the Ogre’s house, the Living Forest, and… Lolotte’s castle. It was a map of
Tamir. But it was more than that. For beyond the beaches of Tamir and Genesta’s island castle was a vast ocean,
and… Daventry! All the lands of the world were on the map.
“I… don’t understand,” said Rosella, voicing her thoughts with a confused brow.
“Maybe this will help,” replied Night, reaching for the other parchment. Sliding the skull-faced ring off that kept it rolled,
he smoothed it out on top of the world map. It was some sort of architectural schematic, that much Rosella could tell
from her privileged royal upbringing. It was some sort of blueprint of Lolotte’s castle. But beyond this, the mathematical
language became foreign to her. When her eyes reached the bottom corner, she wrinkled her nose in disgust at a
strange and grotesque depiction.
“What is this?” asked the princess, still in the dark. “Why is there a map of the world down here, and a blueprint of the
castle? Knight said you had discovered something?” the edge of panic was straining her words.
“It is our worst fear, princess,” replied Night heavily. “I confiscated these maps from a secret room within the castle
through use of my… abilities. I did not dare analyze them until I found the safety of this room, and…”
“Night, what are hiding from me!?” cried Rosella, slapping her hand against his chest in panic.
Night grabbed hold of Rosella’s wrist. Gently but firmly, he guided her hand down to touch the ghastly illustration at the
bottom of the page. Fixing her with a chilling stare he said, “I have uncovered Lolotte’s beast.”
Turning her eyes down toward the open parchment, Rosella put her hand to her gaping mouth. Night said what her
voice could not.
It was all right there on blueprints. The packed up crates, the vacant feeling inside the castle, the stolen magic of the
fairies, the molten forges, the warnings of a mysterious beast that would ravage the land.
Rosella slid her hand from covering the horrifying picture to look at it in a new comprehending light. “The Castle,” was
all she could muster.
“Yes the Castle,” echoed Night. “It is the juggernaut of Lolotte’s dark magic. She will not only raze Tamir with the
awakening, but march him across oceans to other lands as well!” Rosella did not need him to say it for her to
understand that he meant her homeland, Daventry. He thoughts returned to home, and how worried her family must be
by now of her disappearance. She felt a pang of guilt, but she had no choice. And now, she was the only thing
standing between them and ultimate destruction. Never had the princess felt so small as now. The burden of adventure
never looked so heavy on her father’s shoulders, but hers were so sleight, and this bore the weight of a castle.
“We need to stop her, stop this from happening,” stated Rosella, trying to shake the fog, say something coherent.
“Right. Let’s regroup with Jafar and Knight and plan our next move,” nodded Night in agreement.
“That’s a good idea. You should do that. But I have a meeting with Lolotte and Edgar that I must do alone. I will reason
with them,” replied Rosella.
“Reason with them? Are you nuts!? No offense princess, but Lolotte doesn’t seem like a very reasonable witch, and
Edgar has not presented himself as very forgiving! What if you can’t reason with them!?”
“Then I will do what I must to save my family, my kingdom. I will kill them both.”
Night watched her with an exasperated look on his face, but he was also no fool. Princess Rosella was royalty, bred to
be cool, but his shrewd eyes caught the fearful quiver in her jaw, and the near choke in her final words. She was
cashing in on more bravery than she had, but for that he had to let her go.
Watching her turn and walk with forced grace toward the door, he could not see, but knew she longed to wipe away at
the tears rimming her big blue eyes. His sympathies went out to her. Why she felt she had to do all this on her own was
beyond him. It was like she was trying to live up to some great family name. Then again, he did not know the history of
the royal family of Daventry and all their adventures. Turning his attention back to the castle blueprints, Night decided
that princess Rosella would have much more than just his sympathies in support. With a dash of his cloak, he was gone.
To be continued…