Chapter twenty-four
Elizabeth is tricked by a hologram
The gentle trill of birdsong flooded Elizabeth's senses, drawing her from the vibrant tapestry of her dreams. With a sudden jolt, she awoke, her eyelids inadvertently flinging open, allowing the soft morning light to filter into her room like liquid gold. She lurched upright in bed, her heart racing, her shirt clinging uncomfortably to her skin, dampened by beads of sweat that glistened like tiny jewels.
Irritation bubbled within her as she reached for her pillows, only to discover an unexpected object resting atop one—the map she had boldly pilfered from the Fairy Lord’s office. Its presence felt both thrilling and treacherous.
As she unfolded the delicate parchment, the air thickened with anticipation. The ancient map was adorned with intricate illustrations, its edges tattered and its surface imbued with the scent of aged paper. A detailed panorama of the Bermuda Triangle sprawled out before her, the blue ocean depicted in mesmerizing shades that seemed to shift as if animated by an unseen pulse.
Tentatively, she traced her fingertip across the vibrant ocean, and her breath caught as the water transformed into a crystalline spectacle; creatures of the sea darted gracefully through the now-transparent depths, from vibrant fish to gliding shrimp, while colossal shadows of ancient sea monsters roamed the dark recesses beneath.
At the heart of this shimmering aquatic landscape twisted a menacing black whirlpool, pulsating and swallowing all in its vicinity. Elizabeth could almost feel its pull through the fabric of the air, sending unsettling vibrations through her body. Instinctively, she sensed that they had to navigate to this ominous vortex on their own—there would be no assistance from the currents this time. Scrawled ominously around the whirlpool were the words “The Entrance to Brightness,” hinting at mysteries yet to unfold.
Just as she refolded the map, the curtains encircling her bed flew aside, revealing three familiar figures emerging from the shadows. One of them, an exasperated Penelope, clutched a pair of glasses as if they held the answers to the universe.
“It’s ten o’clock in the afternoon! How can you still be in bed?” she exclaimed, annoyance coloring her voice, her brows knitted in annoyance, as if Elizabeth were the last person entitled to sleep in.
Elizabeth glanced down at her watch in disbelief, the realization hitting her like a splash of cold water. “Oh,” she muttered, her voice barely above a whisper.
“We’re heading to the Bermuda Triangle!” Victoria announced, her excitement palpable, her bright eyes gleaming with the thrill of adventure.
Elizabeth's eyes widened as she spotted Emily and Lucius standing nearby, sharing in the gravity of this exhilarating moment.
“Yeah, they’ll join us on the adventure,” Percy chimed in enthusiastically, his eyes sparkling. Without hesitation, Elizabeth revealed the map to her friends, holding it aloft like a trophy.
Gasps filled the room as Penelope dropped her goblet in shock, Percy tore a page from his novel in a distracted haze, Victoria let out a shriek of astonishment, Emily silently covered her mouth in disbelief, and Lucius, eyes wide, loosened the grip on his dreamcatcher, which tumbled onto the sofa with a soft thud.
“Good job! You’ve got the mystical map of the Bermuda Triangle!” Victoria breathed, her voice barely above a whisper.
“What?” Elizabeth asked, utterly bewildered by their fervent reactions.
“The mystical map of the Bermuda Triangle,” Victoria repeated, her eyes sparkling with wonder. “It shows the user's destination, provides clues, and helps us avoid danger. Where did you find it? Not from your dreams?”
“Of course not! I took it from the Fairy Lord’s office,” Elizabeth replied, a proud smile gracing her lips.
“Anyway, we discovered this within the glasses,” Victoria said, her excitement bubbling over.
Percy snapped his fingers and, in a flash, he pulled out a golden magical razor. With confidence, she sliced it through the air, the blade glinting as it caught the sunlight. As she did, vapor shimmered out from the cracks in the glasses, glimmering and coiling, while radiant lights sprang forth from the fissures, glistening and dancing around them; soon, a beam of dazzling white light shot out, and from its brilliance materialized the exquisite model of a ship. As the luminous hues slowly dimmed, the model settled onto the desk with a soft thump.
“Wow! This is the very ship I dreamed about last night!” Elizabeth exclaimed, her voice laced with a mix of awe and disbelief.
“Indeed, it bears a striking resemblance to the magical ship once owned by Freyr—the Skidbladnir,” Victoria murmured vaguely, a hint of nostalgia in her tone.
Reaching out to touch the magnificent vessel, Elizabeth's fingers slipped right through it, as if it were crafted from wisps of smoke rather than solid wood.
“Wait, just a hologram?” Penelope exclaimed, disappointment coloring her voice as she crossed her arms.
Before she could voice her frustration further, a strange golden light shot forth from the hologram and struck them all square in the face, electrifying the air around them.
“What on earth is happening?” Penelope shrieked, bewildered, but the brilliance dissipated just as swiftly, leaving them in a stunned silence.
As they regained their bearings, Elizabeth noticed a drastic change in their surroundings—the room around them melted away, and they were thrust into an entirely new realm.
Hoisting herself upright, she leaned in closer to inspect their surroundings. Not far from their position, a shadowy figure sat forlornly at the foot of a jagged mountain, partially obscured by the dense mist that clung to the ground like a carpet.
They stood frozen, caught between fascination and apprehension, silent witnesses to the scene, their hearts pounding with trepidation. Penelope, ever the diligent observer, drew out a pair of ornate spectacles, their frames glinting with mystery and slid them onto her nose, her expression shifting to one of concern.
“Someone is there,” she whispered, urgency lacing her voice. They crept stealthily in the direction Penelope indicated, but the silence was broken by a soft, forlorn whisper.
“When can I get out of here?”
A wooden door creaked open, revealing a shabby hut that seemed to sag under the weight of its own despair. Suddenly, a handsome young man emerged, his cloak billowing dramatically in the light breeze, and an oil lamp swayed in his grip, casting flickering shadows on the ground.
“Who’s there? Show yourself!” he called, his voice ringing with both courage and uncertainty.
Elizabeth felt her heart hammering wildly in her chest as she caught Penelope’s quiet reply, “We’re here to bring you out of here.”
“Good improvisation,” Victoria whispered playfully, nudging Penelope's shoulder encouragingly. The young man hesitated, hope and doubt battling for dominance in his eyes. He longed to escape the confines of his humble dwelling, but uncertainty held him captive.
“Come in,” he said, his voice trembling. “I’m Kevin.”
The interior of the hut was even more dilapidated than its facade suggested. Dust motes danced in the dim light as the man ushered them toward a tattered old sofa that sagged under the weight of years. With a quivering voice, he offered them drinks, his hands barely steady. “Cocktail or champagne?” he asked, his tone betraying an underlying nervousness.
“Champagne, please,” Penelope replied with a bright cheerfulness that seemed to fill the room. Eager for information, she wasted no time.
“So, do you know anything about Freyr’s vessel, the Skidbladnir?” Kevin took a contemplative sip of his chilled champagne, allowing a slow smile to form across his lips.
“Yes, I do know its whereabouts,” he replied, the weight of his words punctuated by a deep, resigned sigh.
“Where?” Elizabeth implored, her excitement bubbling to the surface.
“In a trapdoor when the mystery began,” he stated crisply, his eyes narrowing as if trawling through memories.
“So, how are you going to save me?”
Victoria cast a nervous glance toward Penelope, who returned the look with a reassuring smile.
“You could live in my house,” Penelope proposed, her voice steady and serious amid the dilapidation surrounding them. “The Glacier Peninsula.”
“You’re sure?” muttered Kevin, his skepticism evident in his furrowed brow. “The most ancient ocean manor in the world? You must be joking.”
“I assure you, you can live there if you like,” Penelope reiterated with unwavering conviction.
Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.
“What do you want me to pay back?” Kevin retorted, the absurdity of it all emerging in a hissing whisper.
“Actually, we hope you could share more about that vessel,” Penelope said sincerely, her eyes pleading for enlightenment.
“Well,” he mused, scratching his chin,“It could be quite difficult to articulate, but it’s essential—overly complicated, so it may end up being too perplexing for me to explain.”
As Elizabeth took another sip of her champagne, she interjected calmly, “Sometimes, I dream about a dark river, always feeling drawn to enter a lake, as if something valuable lies beneath its surface. Do you have any insight on that?”
“Strange, indeed,” he replied, contemplating her words. “But that dream you mentioned—it sounds almost gratuitous. Wait—could it be the Vicious Lake, within the Bermuda Triangle?”
“The Vicious Lake?” Victoria shrieked, a look of alarm etching her features, her posture stiffening as if fraught with tension. “It’s filled with sins and dark elements.”
“Don’t worry,” Percy interjected, a playful glint in his eye. “We have Dolores the Evil accompanying us; I’m sure those malevolent spirits will steer clear of him.” He shot a joking glance at Elizabeth.
“Dolores the Evil?” the man gasped, his expression shifting to one of intrigue.
“Come with me.”
“Where are you taking us?” Percy asked, a note of concern creeping into his voice.
“To a strange place,” the man responded as he led them down a deserted corridor, the walls dripping with aged shadows. Above them hung an enormous painting that seemed to pulsate with an otherworldly energy.
With a snap of his fingers, Kevin activated the painting; it shimmered and began to swell. A brilliant jet of blue light burst forth from its depths, enveloping Kevin before he stepped boldly into the canvas, disappearing into the kaleidoscopic brilliance. Befuddled, Elizabeth and the others followed suit, finding themselves absorbed by the light.
Inside the painting, mere inches from their faces, they discovered an extraordinary mirror.
It was no ordinary reflection.
The figure resembling Penelope revealed a heart-wrenching scene—a young woman, tears streaming down her cheeks, pressed her lips delicately against a bouquet of white flowers, the mournful drops transforming into vibrant red blossoms that stained the earth beneath her.
The supposed Lucius mirrored a man with glassy, vacant eyes, fiercely shielding an unseen figure behind his outstretched arms as a dark pool of crimson slowly spread beneath him.
In the mirror of Elizabeth, an image of torment emerged—an anguished woman igniting flames that licked at the familiar walls of a building, casting an infernal glow against her despair.
Finally, the Emily mirror showcased a woman with a wicked grin clutching a skull, dark blood oozing grotesquely from its hollow sockets, an eerie juxtaposition of joy and horror.
They stood transfixed before the mirror, and Kevin’s voice broke the spell. “Follow your intuition; you’ll find my gift,” he murmured before vanishing with a sharp pop.
Gradually, the mirror expanded, unleashing a dazzling beam of light that struck them squarely in the face. As their vision cleared and the brilliance faded, Elizabeth found herself standing at the threshold of an imposing wooden door.
With a tentative finger, she pressed the doorbell, which let out a low creak as the door cracked open, revealing a damp-lit chamber. Within this damp-lit sanctuary, shadows loomed, shrouded by a thick veil of mist as rows of crystalline boards materialized, glimmering ominously.
A grand chandelier swung gently above, scattering shimmering silver light across the chaotic array of mattresses beneath it, casting a luminescent strip that danced across the shadowy room.
Cautiously, they navigated past the crystal screens to avoid activating them, approaching a small sculpture draped in gold somewhere ahead.
Out of the corner of her eyes, Elizabeth could make out the faint silhouette of a beautiful, curved dove.
"Hello," a voice resonated from deeper inside.
They recoiled, looking around in panic.
"Um, would you please—” Penelope stammered. “There is a way through. If you promise to forget the reflections in the mirror, I can lead you," the dove offered softly, its wings spread open, and it sprang to life.
One by one, they came forward and pledged without hesitation. Swearing blindly in the names of the Styx, they trusted the dove.
“Good,” exclaimed the dove, now soaring towards the ceiling happily while softly uttering unfamiliar hymns from its beak, which remained unknown to Elizabeth. Suddenly, the wall behind the dove trembled, and the ground violently shook as chunks of stone collapsed overhead, revealing a concealed passage within the walls. Dirt hung in the air, and debris scattered in all directions as mist emanated from within. Water dripped from the ceiling, pooling into clear ponds amid the eerie atmosphere. Shattered bones lay piled in the dusty corners, seeming undisturbed for at least decades. "Come on,” urged the dove.
"Is it safe?” Elizabeth inquired cautiously.
"That’s alright," Penelope whispered suddenly, her blue eyes shining with curiosity. She took a napkin, wiped her spectacles, and smiled. “Dove, please lead the way.”
"Certainly,” the dove responded. Its blue glow clarified their vision, revealing carved stones, shadowy creatures slithering within the darkness, and faint silhouettes lurking in the corners, heightening the sense of eeriness. "C’mon—no time to waste," the dove pressed on.
As they progressed, their footsteps echoed loudly through the deserted tunnel, illuminated solely by the dove’s headlamp, providing some sense of their surroundings. Upon reaching a larger clearing, they discovered a glass orb floating in midair, emitting a mysterious violet glow from within, stretching across the damp floor.
Inside—the moment almost caused Elizabeth to gasp in surprise—was the Skidbladnir, the gift promised by the man.
The orb shimmered serenely in the darkness, swirling amidst the mist, with glorious glows emanating from its surface as it rotated, projecting a legendary scenery onto the walls.
Elizabeth hurried forward excitedly, but an invisible barrier obstructed her path. She struck it hard, which almost knocked her out, while the flames twirling from her palms were extinguished.
Hoisting herself up, Elizabeth tried to stand still, yet to her disappointment, her boots slipped, and she fell.
She pushed against the barrier for support but accidentally pressed something hard within the walls, then, before she got an idea about what was going on, a loud crash echoed from far below.
“What have you done?” Penelope shrieked. The sudden noise prompted her to jump in surprise.
“An embossment, pressed it by accident," Elizabeth explained nervously. "I am truly sorry; I didn’t mean to."
"It appears we are in trouble now," Penelope stated hastily.
Suddenly, hundreds of dark webs exploded through the space, jerking in the air, drawn in eccentric threads that weaved through the cobwebs, their outlines rusty and dirty, flickering eerily through the passageway. A foul smell of decay choked the air.
Penelope held her nose and coughed, unable to speak. The room darkened again, obscuring the dim light that beamed from the dove. Elizabeth concentrated and swatted her hands—releasing a bright flash of light that illuminated the passage. Lightning bolts burst from her fingertips and crashed into the gossamers.
Webs coiled and wrapped around their bodies, and dark liquid seeped out from within, licking their bare skins and tearing flesh. The sharp intake of breath became ragged, and they could hardly breathe. Their bodies flinched, their hair matted with grime, as the web drained their blood, soaking their clothes, and shredding their flesh with jagged threads.
"Emily, do you still have strength?” Elizabeth asked desperately.
"Yes—” replied Emily faintly, her head hung over.
Hoisting herself upright, Emily snapped her fingers, conjuring a fragrant aroma that lingered through her fingertips. Glyphs flickered on the walls, greenish lights flowed within as they danced in the darkness, glittering over the web, and it seemed to ease their grip around them.
“You’ve got to be here—” murmured Emily as she twirled two extreme-looking glyphs to the side.
“Nearly there,” said Emily enthusiastically.
“You’ve forgotten that,” Penelope reminded sorrowfully, indicating the hexagrams hanging overhead. She had now sunk half her body into the web, and panic washed over her voice.
“Thanks," Emily whispered hastily, adding another glyph, igniting the web with a flick of her hands.
Sweat beaded on her forehead, and her hair clung to her cheeks as her eyes reddened with fatigue. The webs showed no sign of halting, though. Sinking their sharp teeth into the blur of scarlet flesh as blood drenched over their bodies.
Once the webs ignited, Elizabeth heard distant screams echoing through the walls. Suddenly, a brilliant light, brighter than all the others, struck them. Elizabeth looked up to see the crystal ball gleaming, with words appearing on its misty surface:
‘Only true love and voluntary sacrifice can extinguish the webs.’
"Sacrifice?" Percy croaked with despair, “Elizabeth— I—”
“No!” Elizabeth shrieked; she threw herself into her sweetheart’s welcoming arms, tears wetting her eyes, reddening the tip of her nose.
They huddled tightly in the darkness as ultramarine light lingered through their fingertips, glimmering over them as a shower of stars.
Elizabeth’s face was pressed firmly against Percy’s chest as she wept uncontrollably, her whole body shaking, buried within his embrace, and perceiving the comforting touch of his arms wrapped around her. She could feel Percy’s hands tightening over her in a gentle, reassuring embrace, and felt the faint, crumpled exhalations just inches above her.
Blood oozing out from Percy’s torn shirt, trickling to the back of her hand, a splash of scarlet flower formed on Elizabeth’s forearm, and dripping to the cold ground.
Elizabeth felt a sudden, hard twist knotted in her stomach; she choked.
Tension hung in the air.
But they didn’t realize what was going on until a harsh scratching echoed within the passageway drew their attention.
Elizabeth’s head snapped up, and what she saw made her stomach drop horribly.
With a few seconds, she stood there, her hands in her mouth. But then, when she had recovered from the shock, Elizabeth screamed, in a voice so filled with despair that it almost wracked open the muddy ceiling.
“Vicky! Come back! NO, don’t be stupid!”
But it was too late.
Victoria was heading toward the biggest web, which was inches away from the crystal ball. And it didn’t take Elizabeth a second to figure out what she was going to do.
“Vicky, no! Don’t sacrifice yourself!” shrieked Penelope, catching up with her.
Victoria didn’t answer. She walked right into the webs without turning back, and their thick layers began to close in around her, wrapping her, squeezing her, and pushing her toward the crystal ball.
“You’ve gotta get rid of—” shrieked Victoria, choking, and breathed the last ever breath before the web swallowed her whole. Flesh and blood stained the dark web, which was convulsing against the floor cheerfully.
Immediately, the webs vanished in midair, and the crystal ball evaporated with several beams of white light.
The passageway was drowned back into quiet and silence once again.
The vessel model dropped to the ground in a clutter.
The opal shining around Elizabeth’s neck dimmed.
The time halted, eerily and mournfully so.
Everyone, every single creature, was staring at the position where a daring and energetic girl had disappeared from this world, leaving nothing behind but true love and compassion.
The girl who gave her life to save the others, whose spirit shall never fade.
She left no regrets.
She had chosen her path.
Elizabeth straightened up slowly and picked up the vessel model, feeling it vibrating against her palms.
Penelope rummaged through her leather bag for a long time, eventually picking up a golden tube, hollow and delicate, decorated with beautiful crystalized pendants, and at the very end of the tube was a glittering ruby.
Penelope ticked the ruby three times, and with a loud bang, golden mist swirled out of the tube and surrounded her. She shot Elizabeth and Percy a look that told them to do the same thing. Elizabeth reached for the tube; her fingertips had nearly touched mist when another shot of mist twirled toward her. The vapor felt like soft, silky veils wrapping around Elizabeth’s body; the feeling was so wonderful that it even wiped the melancholy from her body, for just a second.
“Are you ready?” asked Penelope, her voice shaky.
“Yeah. All of those who died because of us. They will not die in vain.” Whispered Elizabeth.
“Let’s begin the last journey with bravery, we’re doing it, right now,” whispered Percy.
The tube shot out a beam of light, and they left the passageway with a faint pop.
As the last adventure started, their fate was destined.
But they will try everything to rewrite their fate.
They know, somehow, deep down, no one’s gonna stop them, not even death or despair.