A Castle Made Of Dreams

chapter twelve

THE GOLDEN NECKLACE that swung from Wallace's neck felt scorching hot all of a sudden. It was labeled with such a heavy name, filled with more power and mystery than what he had originally assumed. After all, Paige implied that those who had the kiss of the gods would never have to leave the orphanage.

That would mean that they could never grow old.

"Then d-do you..." he stuttered, suddenly unable to form coherent sentences. "Do you, are you immortal?"

Ever so slowly, Paige's lips stretched into a thin grin. The corners lifted, forming dimples on her cheeks are she smiled. His question almost made Paige seem gleeful.

"You said that I looked to be the same age as you. What do you think, Wallace?" She cleverly evaded.

The clamour from the canteen hall continued on in the background. However, despite the cluttering noise that seemed to echo for any other's ears, Wallace couldn't hear anything other than Paige's words. They repeated themselves in his mind, effectively overpowering all the other noises combined.

In the end, he gulped, not wanting to admit his theory out loud but still unable to outright reject the idea that seemed so possible all of a sudden. Instead, he skillfully phrased his words, pursing his lips after he spoke.

"Time has been kind to you."

Paige nodded, seemingly satisfied with his smart reply.

"Time is kind to all with the kiss."

That was all he needed to know. His suspicions had been confirmed. However, before he could ask another question, Paige spoke up once more. This time, the words were not directed to him but rather to the general audience.

"Children! Gather around, everybody. Wallace here was a story-teller back in the mainland. He has great tales in store for you all!"

At once, plates and cups were abandoned, forks and knives strewn aside as children of all ages fought to the front where Wallace was. Some pushed and shoved while the other more demure ones waited at the back patiently for the crowd to move forward.

It took fifteen whole minutes for the buzz to die down into a low hush. Hundreds of pairs of eager eyes were trained on Wallace, whose back was pressed against the wall with his hands raised in surrender near his chest.

He examined the wide-eyed children, a burst of warmth spread across his chest. It was always heartwarming to see a zealous audience.

Wallace hesitantly cast Paige a glance, observing her reaction only to see the ever-present smirk still on her lips. She nodded, gesturing to the awaiting children with a wave of her hand. Then, she folded them across her chest, leaning a shoulder on the wall next to him.

"Go on," she mouthed. "They're waiting."

With her encouragement, Wallace turned back to face the children, all of which were seated cross-legged on the cold floor. He took a deep breath, a single hand pressed against his chest, eyes pressed closed for a second before opening them again. When those eyes were opened once more to the world, a different light shone from them.

Paige, from where she stood, recognized the same pair of glittering irises as the ones that Wallace always wore when relaying a great tale of grandeur.

The hush and whispers instantly dissolved into pin-drop silence. Though there were some lips parted in awe, none were parted for words. Only Wallace's voice could be heard as he began his tale.

"Once upon a time," he began.

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