Once upon a time, the realms of Chance and Men lived in peace and harmony. The balance of the worlds was perfect. Unfortunately, the thirst for power and magic is an inevitable poison, as insatiable as the noble families of chance. Their thirst led...
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Chapter 17
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The edge of the forest approaches, and with it grows my apprehension. The daylight blinds me slightly, as my eyes are accustomed to the darkness of the woods. It takes a few seconds for me to be able to survey the surroundings.
I expected to stumble upon a field, similar to the one in the old ruins. To my great surprise, a gigantic building stands before us. The architecture is breathtaking. Large marble columns rise on either side of the entrance door, which itself is of immense height. The predominant colors, red and white, are soft, with the former almost leaning towards pink. Large windows extend along the length of the building. It looks like a castle. It is the idea I had of such places.
"Is this it?" I murmur, but Killian shakes his head, pointing to the sign on our right.
"Rest Area"
I read the inscription aloud, without understanding. I can't read it seriously. They organize these games to watch us suffer and set this up to give us hope? Only to snatch it away afterwards?
We cautiously advance and are greeted by one of the game masters, dressed in the same attire as at the entrance of the maze.
"Dear players," his serpentine voice resonates behind his mask, "Welcome to this special creation." We look at each other silently, and he continues, "Congratulations to all of you for surviving this long. As a reward and to maximize the experience of the grandest challenge in this game, we recommend that you have a good night's sleep and refresh yourselves." He pauses, and his gaze lands on me. I can't see his eyes, but I'm convinced that he is looking at me.
"A buffet specially prepared by the royal kitchens of your Prince awaits you in the Dining Hall."
He steps aside and stretches his arms in front of him, inviting us to follow him.
Some players rush inside, and after a few seconds of hesitation, we do the same. The choice is not really given, to be honest, as the building doesn't seem to offer any possibility of bypassing it. The more I consider its architecture, the more I realize that it resembles a barrier, between us and the field. This realization terrifies me even more. What awaits us on the other side?
The interior is of surreal beauty. Hundreds, if not thousands, of red roses cover each of the golden furniture. I can't help but run my fingers over the petals of one of them and notice its texture. The petal is not smooth; it is hard and wet. My fingers are stained. The roses have been painted red. I rub my fingers together, relieved to find out that it's paint and not blood. At this point, I no longer know what to expect.
