The world around him expanded, the light returned, furniture shifted, and the oil lamp that had been there ceased to exist at his side, the black envelope and everything that caused a cryptic confusion disappeared.
Cale glanced at the picture frame, everything occurred because he had been fixated on that thing.
The picture was clean, spotless even, a stark difference to before.
Looking at it now. Cale saw the black and white picture, in it two adults stood shoulder to shoulder with two children in front.
The adult woman had a smile pure as the snow that fell, the man next to her had a Victorian-styled suit with a fedora, their face somewhat resembling the one in the headlines.
In front of them. A boy with an appearance awfully just like Feigling's and a small girl grabbing at the hem of her small dress that made her presence known smiled brightly whilst hugging their parents tightly.
Cale thoughts to all of this....Were painfully simple.
"Just what the fuck"
A curse that came from his very soul made the room seem colder despite the fire.
For a moment, he really thought he had died again.
That is just how much he had been immersed.
His restless breaths made him dizzier than before.
Taking a long while of deep breathing, he sighed, getting his act slightly together.
He looked at the picture again.
"Could it be....?"
His eyes only registered the newspaper with the eyewitness. Glancing at the newspapers strewn over with damp spots over them.
'The father?'
If this information was placed intentionally for the sake of 'moving the plot ahead,' then that meant that there was no 'decoration' when it came to the storiem.
Any and every event being connected intricately together would at first seem impossible in the real world, but this was a story.
And inside a story, each word had to have or at the very least convey a meaning to the reader, since who would earnestly read a book that wasted everyone's time without setting up anything?
Not many.
So, thinking like that, the small girl in the picture was likely the 'Charlotte' mentioned inside the newspapers.
'The one speaking when I cleaned the picture...Was it Charlotte?'
He entertained the idea, thinking it made sense at first.
Key word, at first.
'On second thought....I doubt it'
It didn't make any sense how someone he had never met in his life would know his name.
It just seemed an impossible concept to him.
Cale reached for the drawers, trying to search for anything useful, opening one at his far left.
It opened, but there was nothing inside it, just old wood with dust.
He reached for another, any clue about the girl or the parents would be crucial right now.
The second one opened just as easily as the first, the same went for the third and fourth.
Staring at the last drawer for a cold minute. Cale hooked his fingers under its handle, tugging at it once before slowly pulling.
Clack! Clack!
The drawer shook, but it didn't open.
"...."
Cale's brows drew into a blank line, just like his brain.
That wasn't a sound a drawer would make when being pulled.
Something was inside, and it was something metallic.
Cale stopped yanking the drawer and thought as to what the item inside could possibly be.
'Maybe a camera? I mean it feels like that's what it would be with those sounds it makes...'
If it were a camera, scrolling through its contents would undoubtedly give some sort of lead.
'No wait, this is a century ago, the storiem seems to use my world as the base infrastructure so it wouldn't really make sense for a camera to be in here'
If the Wire Maiden and the demon she shielded were fugitives on the run, then it likely wasn't a camera.
A serial killer wouldn't need one after all.
And they would especially not lock it inside a drawer.
'There is a keyhole'
Next to the handle, a keyhole made its presence known.
'Where would—'
"Un..."
A groan snapped Cale's fine thread of thoughts with its single sharp edge.
Feigling awoke from its short sleep.
Sluggishly, it raised itself, eyelids on the verge of shutting tight again.
"Well?"
Feigling spoke with a wobble.
"It appears you ha-"
Feigling lips stopped mid-motion.
A deep frown became apparent on its face as it grew more confused.
"That....No...."
Feigling's eyes flickered, reflected onto its dark eyes were a myriad of faint colors.
Curses, and Cale right now had two-No he had even more curses.
Most of them were inactive, but they were there, munching at his soul.
It gaped, surprised and astonished.
"You...."
"...?"
"Just what kind of God did you anger to get this many curses?"
Feigling's words perplexed Cale, clearly not understanding.
"Hm....Well I guess you wouldn't know anything"
"...."
Cale blankly stared at the key figure sitting on the bed, yawning just like any ordinary person. Not registering the insult.
Strangely enough, after that haunting experience, what he was capable of seeing changed drastically.
Feigling noticed that shift in his eyes and the awe slowly etching into Cale's expression.
"What is wrong?"
It asked, curious of what Cale saw that made him stop.
"....."
Cale didn't respond.
"Are you deaf?"
Asking again with a tilt of its head. Cale finally stopped looking so intently at Feigling, rotating his head to the door.
"Nothing, what is it?"
Cale spoke with a cold robotic tone, an evident shift that didn't go unnoticed.
Feigling didn't press further though, not caring much for what Cale saw to be this enchanted.
Still, intrigued by the curses that took root in Cale's body, it couldn't help but be curious.
"What will you do?"
Feigling asked, the intriguing human before it, fostered a feeling that one might call interest.
"Survive, won't be helping me?"
The remaining glimmer of awe in Cale's eyes faded into the void. Feigling's interest heightened.
"No, why believe I would?"
It stroke its chin.
Cale stole a peek before locking eyes to the door.
"I guess you're right"
Speaking his last words, the chains rattled as they accompanied him outside the door.
Clank!
The chains halted any further funny moves.
"This is the limit?"
Muttering, he gazed at the corridor with the moon casting its light.
'The snow stopped'
The dark corridor stretched for what seemed infinite.
Floorboards creaked above, the wind hounding at it still lived.
"I wouldn't recommend staying outside for that long"
Feigling said, gaze flicking instinctively toward the picture, as it did.
Step—!
A step lashed sharply to the wood, creaking just as sharp.
At the sound.
Thud!
Cale instantly moved and smashed the door closed.
His head turned and scanned the area for anything he could use for cover.
However, when he started to move to a spot he thought would be good.
Rattle!
The rattling of the chains made him freeze.
His jaw clenched tight, he looked down, his cloak was missing, probably back at the cave.
'Stupid! Stupid! Just how much more will you sabotage yourself?!'
Cale rummaged through his pockets, looking for anything that might be in his pocket.
His eyes widened at what he pulled out of his pocket.
Its cool blade slightly relaxed Cale when caressing it, there was no mistaking it.
It was the dagger he had been using since the beginning of the exam.
"...."
As he looked at it, across his face flashed hesitation.
Fear of what could happen to his feet and hands if he used it wrong.
Step—!
Another step drew, his heart rose its beats.
Feigling fed its eyes with the image of Cale struggling.
Lips parted into cold advice.
"Often times, intent and interpretation is different for each"
Feigling said, eyes still hard locked onto the picture. Occasionally glimpsing at Cale.
"Tell me....Isn't insight supposed to mean to have a deep understanding of something?"
Step—!
Feigling continued, the steps drawing ever closer.
Finally, it looked at Cale stammering.
"How much narrowminded will you be? Learn for once that a clear and openminded mentality is what you require to pass through trials"
Its eyes swirled with an indifference that choked the ordinary.
"Stop living in an illusion of the past and adapt right this instant"
It leaned back onto the bed, absentmindedly staring at the ceiling.
"Isn't that what humans are best at?"
"...."
Time froze, locked inside a trunk with a gold lock.
It was right, no matter how much Cale thought he improved, at the end of the day.
He merely repeated the same sentence over and over until luck bails him out.
So at the words spoken by the boy
Szzzzzz
Cale's mind composed, and the blade hummed to a tune Cale knew.
And understood.
Cale, gripped the blade with nothing in his mind but the primal instinct to survive.