Inheritance Option Ab: Go Left

The Adventure continues! Readers voted to follow the daisies’ advice and head left instead of right in an effort to get to the office. Let’s see if you’re deft enough to cross to the balcony!

Inheritance Option Ab: Go Left

The idea of the very walls guarding the office freaks you out. What’ll they do, start moving?

“Think the daisies are telling the truth?” you mutter to your pack.

It shrugs. “Not sure they’re smart enough to mislead you, Boss. They have this very vacant look on their faces.”

Great. Flowers have faces and they can look vacant. Learn something new all the time. But then again, how can your pack tell? It still has no eyes.

“I’ve gone crazy,” you mutter.

“Certifiably,” your pack agrees.

You refrain from answering as you reach the bottom of the stairs.

They’re narrow but at the top you can see a vaulted ceiling and what appears to be a large, open hallway lit by sunlight. Compared to where you’re standing now, that hallway looks inviting.

Perhaps too inviting.

“Left it is,” you say. At the top of the stairs you pause and look both ways. The hallway to the right boasts big windows that show the internal courtyard of the castle. The sunlight streaming through is what lit the stairs from below.

In an odd lack of symmetry, the left hand hall has no windows but is lit with the soft glow of candles.

“Seems like a trap,” zip, zip.

You agree. You just hope you’re guessing correctly on which way is the most dangerous.

Squaring your shoulders, you step into the left hand hallway. Nothing moves, nothing speaks up. You’re almost to the end of the hallway where it takes a turn to the right when your pack clears its throat.

“What?” you ask.

“The candles like you,” your pack whispers.

You glance back. Instead of the small candles you just passed, you find a single candlestick as tall as yourself. Even as you watch, another candle hops off the wall and joins the big candle, congealing into it like mud into mud.

“It likes me?” you ask.

“It wants you to ask it to join you,” your pack whispers.

“Why are you whispering?”

“It freaks me out!”

The candle has no eyes or mouth. The flame at the top burns brighter as more candles amble over to join it while you consider. It is kind of nerve wracking because you can feel it watching you, somehow.

“Join me?” you ask, deciding a friend could be super useful.

The candle jumps up and down like an excited puppy. The flame at the top bobs and it splatters soft wax over the floor before hopping forward to stand beside you.

You put a step between yourself and the candle and then proceed to the turn in the hallway.

There’s no light. It’s so black you can’t see more than ten feet ahead.

“Glad I invited you,” you comment to the candle. It waddles forward to light your path and bounces on its silver frame while it waits for you to catch up.

“It’s making me dizzy,” your pack grumbles.

You ignore it.

The hall leads to a single door. On the other side you stop to adjust to the sunlight streaming in the bay windows.

The candle stops in the hallway.

“Thank you,” you say.

It bounces up and down and then places itself squarely in the doorway. Behind it vague shapes move in the dark but they don’t come forward into the light of the candlestick.

“Still creep you out?” you ask the pack.

“Not so much,” it responds.

On the far side of the room, you open the windows and peek out. There, to your right, is the balcony the daisies spoke of. The sketchy part is the stretch of about six feet between the bay window and the railing of the balcony. There’s nothing but brick wall to hang onto in between and the balcony sits above the window.

No matter how you consider it, you’re going to have to push off and grab ahold of that railing.

“Don’t fall,” zip, zip.

“Hush.”

All you need right now is a reminder. You climb out of the window and stretch toward the balcony with the fingers of your right hand on the frame of the window.

Nerves make your fingers sweat.

Focus on that railing, you tell yourself.

If you’re deft. The flower’s words run through your mind.

I’m definitely daft. You decide and push off from the window.

You left hand slaps against the metal of the railing. The sweat on your palm makes the grip slick but you latch on and grunt as your weight falls on that arm. In a moment you swing your right arm around and grasp ahold with both hands.

Now for a pull up.

Perhaps it’s the adrenaline, but it’s the easiest pull up of your life. You slide over the railing and crash against the floor of the balcony.

“You’re squishing me!” your pack complains.

You groan and roll over to push to your feet. The office proves to be a lushly furnished affair with heavy oak shelving and desk. In the middle of the empty desk sits a letter.

Hermit,

Congratulations for making it this far. Most don’t make it past the pansies.  

And Welcome to the Castle of Other. While within the moat, anything may have animation. Your task is to protect it. Some will reward you richly for watching out for them. The candles and dishes in particular will thank you for your guardianship. (Ask the dishes for a nice steak, medium rare. It’s the best I’ve ever tasted.)

The rugs and certain flowers will not thank you but they will tolerate you as long as you show them discipline and courtesy. The rugs hate and fear fire. So always take a candle with you and keep the rugs clean and they’ll leave you alone.

You are the only person I trust to watch out for this treasure. You understand solitude and discipline. If you choose to walk away, tell the Bridge and Mr. Toad to drain the moat. All of this will cease to exist.

If you choose to stay, there are treasures beyond imagining here but they require your diligence. Tell the Candles you’re staying and they’ll show you the ropes.

Yours truly,

James Levi

You gulp.

Do you…

Ab1: Stay

or

Ab2: Leave

Blessings and see you Thursday for the end of this Adventure!

Jennifer