What do I do with this information?
I’m the host for Lord Sinclaire?
She just stares at me, quiet but disturbing.
Then, with a sweep of her cloak, she leaves the room.
No further information? No warning?
I turn to follow her, but two cloaked maniacs block my path.
Questions bloom at the tip of my tongue, waiting for an opportunity to spill.
I watch her disappear through the door.
The elite sovereign guy walks up to me and hands me a cloak with a fancy brooch.
"Welcome to the elite club, Argon. You are our newest member".
After saying that, he turns and leaves. The cloaked attendants file out of the room behind him in a rustle of cloaks and booted feet.
I am left alone in the small room, holding a cloak that I don’t need and craving answers I have been deprived of.
When I first heard about the elite club, the first thing that came to my mind was a club for rich and pureblooded students.
I clutch the cloak in my hand tightly. The fabric of the cloak feels full and expensive in my hands.
I leave the room in quick strides, fueled by the determination to deal with the guy who had tricked me into coming to the so-called ’elite club’.
At the door lies a staircase leading up. The music is coming from above.
One question keeps popping up as I ascend the stairs two at a time.
It makes me wonder if I’m the first person to get accepted as a vessel.
I reach the landing. There are three wooden doors on each side.
I listen for the direction the music is coming from. It seems to be coming from all directions - which is weird.
Is this sorcery, or is my mind playing games on me?
I try the door on my right first. The wooden panel drags loudly on the stone floor as it pushes open.
As I walk in, I emerge from the door across it.
I glance from door to door.
The exit must be the remaining room. I open it and walk through it.
Suddenly, the floor vanishes beneath my feet. I reach out my arms for something to hold, but all I can clutch is handfuls of air, blood roaring in my ears.
I collapse on my side, crashing into the floor with enough impact to make my knee snap out of its joint. The whole thing took me unawares, depriving me of the opportunity to brace myself for landing.
I hiss between my teeth to prevent myself from groaning aloud.
What is wrong with these people?
This isn’t what I bargained for when I accepted the admission.
I clutch my knee and force the bone back in place.
My lower lip bleeds from where I had been biting it to keep myself silent. A few muffled sounds escape from me as the sharp pain shoots through my leg.
"Please, stop this! Whoever is doing this should stop this!"
I reach instinctively for the dagger I usually keep in my boots, forgetting it’s not there. My weapons had been confiscated when I had woken up in the school.
After taking a deep, long breath, I stretch my leg to ease the pain.
Pain shoots through it, causing me to grit my teeth,though not as sharp as before.
It gradually fades to a dull ache.
If Spatial Domain is part of their society, I’d suspect him first - this looks like the kind of thing he would do.
I push myself up on my feet and limp toward the wall on the right, clutching the cloak in my hands.
A thought blooms in my mind. What if there’s a password, just like the door to the auditorium had?
What password could I possibly use? I had used my Reg number earlier, would using my member name work?
I lean toward the door and whisper "Argon".
To my surprise, the walls slowly melt to nothing until only a staircase leading up remains in the place where the middle door had been.
I hesitate before taking a step towards it. Rushing into things had only earned me a broken knee.
The stone steps are plain and unadorned, just like everything else in this barren place.
I ascend cautiously, pausing on the first step to see if anything would happen. When nothing does, I take the next one with a little more liberty than the first. Still, nothing happens.
I limp to the top and stop at the landing. There is only one door here.
I push the door open, but remain at the threshold.
All I see is darkness.
I shut the door and try whispering my given name to it.
It slides open on its own, revealing a sea of dancing people under the wave of a rotating disco ball. Thᴇ link to the origɪn of this information rᴇsts ɪn novel⦿fire.net
I stagger into the room, gripping the wall to steady myself. I scan the room quietly. There is no sign of any cloak-clad individuals.
Even their female leader with the striking eyes is nowhere to be found.
Music blares around me, triggering an instant headache.
I weave through the ever-moving sea of people until I reach the exit.
It looks like a normal party - just students dancing and drinking for fun.
No one would believe that a ritual had been going on beneath such a lively party.
Are the people here aware of their fetish practices or is it a secret society exclusive to select members within the club?
By the time I reach the door, I am dizzy from being shuffled and nudged several times. No one seems to pay me any attention.
The door cracks open as I call the name I had been given.
To be fair, the name ’Argon’ has a nice ring to it.
I look back at the casually dressed students before slipping through the open door.
The warm night air washes over me. I breathe it in greedily, grateful for fresh air after being forced to inhale stale air for such a long time.
The night is dark and cloudless. The moon has decided to hide its face, bidding the stars to do the same.
I can see the school building across the stone bridge. The windows of the building are lit up, making it visible in the darkness.
I groan when I realize it is a long way to the building.
"It is indeed". I hear a faint voice echo in the silence.
I look around me. There is no one around.
I listen to see if I might hear the voice again.
I am met with unnerving silence.
It must be my imagination playing tricks on me.
Oh, well. I better start limping to the school.