Matin looked back and saw Dean making his way across the courtyard with a determined stride. Matin, on the other hand, dragged his feet as he followed his mother through the snow.
He wanted to go with Dean's group. His friend always acted without thinking, and Matin felt that he needed to be there to keep him out of trouble. It had taken days of convincing his mother to let Dean out in the first place. Was it all going to be for nothing? Would Dean meet his end just as Nicolas, Maria, and Sophia had?
Sophia. He hated when her name came into his head. Her smiling face always came soon after. The sharp pain in his chest was so pronounced that he visibly grimaced.
"Matin, dear, are you alright? That ladder can be awfully difficult to climb in this weather. Did you hurt yourself?" Marianne asked.
"I'm fine, mother," he said, accidentally letting a small amount of his frustration into his voice.
If she noticed his bad mood, she didn't show it and just continued to look at him with concern.
"We can always go back to the tower if you feel like it's too much. Just let mother know, alright?"
Didn't she remember what his opinion was regarding staying in the tower? He really wished she would listen to him more closely sometimes.
"Of course, Mother, thanks for your concern," he said with his most practiced smile, though even that was difficult to maintain.
"If you're done speaking, we should go. The cold will get us if the monsters don't," Mitch said in his usual unamused and monotone voice.
"Certainly, this cold will not be good for my son, so let's make haste."
Marianne and Mitch set a pace while Matin hesitated just a moment longer. He could still see Dean's group as they made their way down towards the walls of the monastery. Then, he looked to his right-hand side, where Rosetta had been standing silently.
She was hugging herself, teeth chattering wildly. She looked back up towards the round tower with longing before shaking her head and following the other two. Matin felt a pang of worry for her, but chose not to say anything. For Rosetta, sometimes silence was more comfortable than words of assurance. He wasn't even sure had any words that would ease her mind. Not when his own mind was in such a terrible state.
It didn't take them long to reach the guest house. The journey went by in the blink of an eye from Matin's perspective. He was so caught up in his own thoughts and memories while automatically putting one foot in front of the other that he walked into Rosetta as she stopped in front of the guesthouse doors.
With her feet buried deep in the snow, she could not balance herself and fell face first into the snow with a quick yelp. Matin immediately rushed forward to help her, opening his mouth to apologise.
"What do you think you're doing, girl?" Marianne asked angrily as she turned on the spot. "If you dirty the guesthouse with all that snow, I'll have you cleaning it for weeks. Do I make myself clear?"
Not waiting for an answer, Marianne turned back as she continued to mutter under her breath about dead weight. Rosetta shakily got to her feet. Matin, who had been distracted by his mother's outburst, had lost his opportunity to say sorry. Rosetta's face grew even more miserable.
"I'm speaking to you, girl," Marianne continued, a dangerous edge in her voice.
Apparently, she had been expecting a response despite turning away.
"I-I'm sorry, I'll be careful!" Rosetta said in a hurry, bowing quickly and deeply.
Marianne seemed to have already put her out of her mind and was making her way to the door as Rosetta was apologising. Matin took that moment to step forward.
"Sorry, Rose, that was my fault," he whispered.
She looked at him with a scathing look, her eyes already red.
"If you're sorry, then why don't you say it loudly so your mother can hear?" she asked, her voice trembling.
Matin looked towards his mother, who was working with Mitch to push open the guest house door, which had grown stiff in the icy cold.
He bit his lip.
If his mother heard him apologise to Rosetta, her anger towards her would just become more severe. There had to be a way he could phrase it without getting Rosetta into more trouble. Sadly, Rosetta took his hesitation the wrong way.
"Just forget it," she snapped and walked away.
Matin watched her go with a forlorn expression on his face. Why even bother at this stage?
The door to the guest house had been opened, and everyone was eager to step inside to get out of the cold. All the while, Matin wished he was good at speaking like Dean was. Why couldn't he do anything right?
Despite being sheltered from the icy wind and snow outside, Matin shivered as he stepped into the guesthouse. Everything was dead still and silent. It might have been his imagination, or a product of his mental state, but the place looked far darker than he remembered. Even as Mitch lit some of the lyth stones next to the entranceway by tapping them twice, the dark and oppressive atmosphere remained.
Rosetta kept as much distance from him and the others while remaining with the group. Matin wanted to stay close to her, but decided to give her some space. Even so, why couldn't she understand things from his perspective? There was no need to be angry at him. It had only been an accident.
"Let's hurry and be done with this," Marianne said as she gestured everyone to follow her towards the kitchen. As Matin turned, he thought he saw a cloaked figure standing on the second floor landing looking down at them, but when he turned his head to have a proper look, there was nothing there. His mind really was buckling under the stress. Why did the air feel so still and stale?
Footsteps echoing loudly, the group made its way towards the door leading to the kitchen. However, when she opened the door, Marianne froze.
"Wh-what is this?" She asked, her voice shrill. "Did I get the wrong door?"
She looked around, counting the four doors that existed in the entrance hall, two on either side of the stairs, before shaking her head.
"No, this isn't right. This isn't right at all," she whispered, eyes wide.
"What is it?" Mitch asked, peering over her shoulder.
Whatever he saw, his stony face hardened even further, and Matin knew something was very wrong. It took a while before Mitch and Marianne stepped aside to allow him to see what the issue was.
Once he did, Matin mirrored his mother's actions and took a second look around the entrance hall to ensure they were in the right place.
"What is this?" he asked quietly.
Through the door was a long corridor that twisted and turned unnaturally, the floor changing in elevation and direction. The decor and style resembled that of the guesthouse, but it hadn't existed at all when he had last been here. This was where the kitchen ought to have been. Windows with a strange white light lit the hall, and strange paintings of distorted figures and faces decorated the otherwise bare, creamy white wallpaper.
Matin heard Rosetta moan in dismay behind him.
"I inspected this place just last week." Marianne was saying, speaking rather heatedly to an equally confused-looking Mitch. "There's no chance they could have renovated it like this so quickly, right?"
Mitch simply shook his head.
"Say something!" Marianne shrieked.
Mitch didn't react, which was rare for someone who had attracted Marianne's ire. He simply closed his eyes and shook his head.
"Nothing I know or can say will satisfy you. Nothing but sorcery could explain this," he said simply.
"S-sorcery?" Marianne scoffed. "You think someone waved their hands and willed a bloody Goddess-forsaken hall to appear instead of our damned kitchen? Don't waste my time with fairytales. Honestly, believing in such nonsense. "
Mitch shook his head.
"I don't believe in it, no. But I do believe that there are many unexplained phenomena in this world. Makes it easy to take advantage of the superstitious."
"Goddess sake!" Marianne snapped.
Matin had never heard his mother curse like that before. It just went to show how insane their situation had become. They took a few moments to try the other doors, all with a fairly similar result. Every single room in the building had been altered into something uncanny and not of this world. One door even seemed to lead into a huge open room so large that it would have fit the entire cathedral inside it. Staircases that came to abrupt ends lined its outer walls. Needless to say, they didn't spend too long there.
They then walked a short distance down the long hallway. He found Rosetta, who had gone on ahead of them, sitting on the floor, hugging her knees. Not knowing what to say, he sat down next to her and placed a hand on her shoulder. He felt relieved when she didn't push it away.
Soon after, once they had gathered their thoughts, they returned to the entrance hall/
"It must be some sort of sorcery wielded by those monsters, something unholy. Though I am loathe to spout such nonsense," Marianne was saying, though she sounded like she could barely believe her own words. "This is not something we should deal with now. We're returning to the round tower."
Nobody objected to her suggestion. Coming here was a mistake. He only hoped Dean had not encountered something similar.
They had just turned towards the front entrance when all of them froze on the spot.
"No…" Rosetta cried.
Where the door had been was now nothing but a blank section of wall. With a curse, Marianne ran up to the wall and slapped it with the palm of her hand. A dull sound of striking a solid stone wall was the only response.
"The door was here just moments ago," Marianne said, her voice cracking in disbelieving laughter.
Matin had seen the door as he crossed the hall a few moments ago. It had disappeared in the short few moments they had taken to make their decision to leave. Marianne turned on her heel and looked around frantically.
"Come out! Whosoever it is that's doing this, come out or so help me I will have your head and the heads of everyone you love!"
"M-mother," Matin said as he rushed over to her and placed his hand on her arm. She was shaking. It was a rare situation indeed to see Mariane Evelyn physically shaking.
To his side, he could hear Rosetta crying while Mitch, though silent, looked even paler than he did normally.
"Mother, you should-"
Matin was about to speak, but then he heard something in the distance. It was laughter. He stopped speaking and focused on listening. Where was it coming from?
"Do you hear that?"
"Hear what?" Marianne asked.
Matin didn't respond immediately. As suddenly as it had started, the strange laughter stopped.
"I just heard some laughter. It was coming from upstairs, I think."
The others merely looked at him silently for a moment. The silence fell heavily on the group then Rosetta broke it with a shout.
"Don't do that, Matin. Why do you have to start telling jokes at a time like this? What's wrong with you? Did you think it would-"
"Silence, girl!" Marianne shrieked.
Rosetta froze as Marianne rounded on her.
"You will speak only when spoken to. Do you understand? I cannot deal with a whiny little bitch like you now, I need to think."
Rosetta's angry expression melted into fear before settling into hopelessness. She backed up towards the wall and slid against it as her legs gave way.
"The windows, let's try the windows." Marianne said, looking past the open door to the impossibly long corridor.
Mitch moved to follow her while Matin stayed by Rosetta's side. He wondered why his mother had taken the time to shout at Rosetta but hadn't given his words any consideration whatsoever. Loud banging sounds soon followed as Marianne tried, and evidently failed, to break the windows.
"They're not made of glass!" He heard her shout.
It was now Matin's turn to fall to his knees. That was it, then. They were trapped. Clearly by someone who had less than friendly intentions towards them. Was it just him, or was the hall even darker than before? He strained his eyes looking up at the second floor. Were those red cracks on the wall?
What appeared to be jagged red lines were barely visible on the upstairs walls. They seemed to have a random pattern, like the cracks one would see in a window that was just short of being shattered completely. On the other hand, they were so faint that Matin didn't mention them. It could have been his mind playing tricks on him. It wouldn't have been the first time.
SLAM
The sound of a door slamming shut made Matin jump as Rosetta let out a yelp of fright. He turned his head towards the sound and found that the door his mother and Mitch had passed through was now closed. Getting to his feet, he approached the door. He was somewhat uneasy about being separated from them, even if they were only on the other side. It was important that they stick together.
He slowly opened the door, and on the other side, found an empty corridor.
"M-mother?" Matin asked in a shaky voice. "Sir Mitch?"
He heard Rosetta approach from behind.
"Matin, what's going on?" She asked in a nervous voice.
With a sharp intake of breath, Matin rushed forward into the empty corridor, looking in every direction. It didn't do much good. It was an empty space with nowhere to hide. His mother and Mitch were gone.
"Where did they go?" Rosetta almost yelled.
Matin looked down the hallway towards the opposite door. The corridor was too long to fit inside the guesthouse. Still, there was only one way they could have gone.
"Through the other door!" Matin said, taking off immediately, forcing Rosetta to follow after.
He knew it was hopeless. There was no way they could have made it to the far door in the time since the door to the entrance hall had slammed shut. They also had no reason to do so. Yet, he had no choice but to look.
He slammed through the door and found himself in an even larger hallway, this one branching off into three directions to the left, right, and straight ahead of him. The jagged red cracks were now clearly visible, covering the wallpaper and paintings like a spiderweb.
"Matin, let's go back." Rosetta said, tugging on his sleeve. "Maybe they'll come back for us if we stay put?"
The path ahead beckoned him forward. Maybe his mother was just around that corner? Or maybe she had gone through that other door. He wanted to ignore Rosetta's words and press forward. However, the tremble in her voice and the tears threatening to overflow gave him pause.
"Y-you're right." He said after taking a breath.
Staying where they were would be the most logical and safest thing to do, given the situation. They turned around and went down the hallway they had just come from. As they passed the windows, Matin noticed that the light coming from them was a little dimmer than before. It couldn't be getting darker yet. He was sure it was still hours before midday.
"Matin, the door." Rosetta said nervously, pointing forward.
It had once again been closed. Neither he nor Rosetta had shut it behind them, and he hadn't even heard it close. The pair rushed forward and opened the door. What awaited behind them was not the entrance hall, but yet another long hallway.
"This is a dream. This isn't real," Rosetta whispered, her voice trembling and on the verge of tears.
Matin could only shake his head. Nothing was making sense anymore. He felt a horrible panic well up from within his chest and had to repress the urge to break out into a run. He leaned against the door and closed his eyes.
What should he do? He was older than Rosetta and the son of an influential leader, too. He had to take charge. Rosetta would need to see a confident face, someone to reassure her. To tell her they were still safe and that getting out was still a possibility. However, he knew that if he spoke now or even showed his face, his fears and doubts would be obvious to her.
Why couldn't he be like Dean or Addi? If they were here, they would have taken charge immediately and would surely have suggested a solution by now. Their plans might not always work out, but simply having a confident person by your side was enough to make one feel a lot better during difficult times. Matin knew that comfort better than most.
He heard a sniffling sound from behind him. He swallowed and took a breath. Calm. He had to be calm and show everyone that he could be just as strong as Dean or his mother.
He turned to face Rosetta.
"Waiting around isn't going to work anymore. We'll have to keep moving and see if we can find a way out."
Rosetta shook her head.
"What's the point?" She asked bitterly. "Maria and Nick are dead. I'm sure the others are too. It'll be our turn soon. I mean, just look around us, Matin!"
Her words ended in a desperate scream. Her eyes wide with panic. It made Matin flinch. Part of him knew she was right. It had been stupid of them to split up and go looking for food. They should have all gone to the library together while staying as close as possible. Perhaps it was better to accept their fate and stop struggling. What could anyone do when faced with reality warping sorcery like they currently were?
He grabbed Rosetta's hand and pulled her along as he stepped forward. There was a brief resistance and an annoyed grunt as she pulled back, but he didn't ease up. He didn't speak because he was worried his words would betray his doubts and weaknesses.
"Let me go!" Rosetta cried.
"We have to find a way out," he snapped.
Dean always said that he was the reliable one. It didn't matter if Rosetta had given up. He would take on the entire burden and find a way out. That was the responsibility of those destined to hold power.
"Find a way out?" Rosetta laughed bitterly. "There was one! And it disappeared! How are we going to find one now?"
He wasn't half as reliable as Dean believed. That didn't matter. If he died here, then everything would have been for naught. His mother's suffering and all her pain would be wasted. He couldn't let that happen.
"It's simple. We'll search and we'll find one," he said stubbornly.
He'd find a way out. Dying here was unacceptable. He had to get out and bring everyone else along with him. It was his responsibility. His obligation.
*
"Matin dear?" Marianne shouted as she opened yet another door.
This time she stepped into a room that resembled an office with a single chair and desk facing the door. There was nothing else in the room that was probably the size of the dining hall in the dormitory.
"Matin!" she shouted uselessly, her voice breaking.
"You waste your breath, my lady." Mitch said, though there was no kindness, only a slight hint of irritation.
The dour man should have been more worried, Marianne thought to herself. Things could not have been worse. Just who did he think he was? Speaking to her like that.
Ignoring him, she stepped towards yet another door located behind and to the left of the desk.
"I believe this is the twenty-second corridor we have come across. We shouldn't even be on the monastery grounds anymore," Mitch commentated.
He was correct. They had walked an unimaginable distance while remaining indoors. None of that mattered to Marianne, however.
"I have to find him." She said to no one in particular.
"I know you've said that many times by now." Mitch sneered.
Marianne rounded on him and had to hold herself back from striking the uncaring fool.
"And I will say it many times more! Don't you understand?" She yelled in his face. "I have to find him, otherwise he…he." She trailed off as painful memories flooded her mind. Memories of four years ago when Matin had taken the entrance exams for Mount Moore Academy.
"I have to find him before he loses all hope," she finished quietly.
Her dear son. Why did this have to happen now, of all times? After everything she did and planned. It was all lost. The only thing that mattered now was getting him back alive. She gripped the handle of her lythment tightly as she stared into Mitch's eyes.
Despite conveying the seriousness of the situation clearly, the man had the gall to do nothing but shrug with indifference.
"I am not saying I disagree with you, my lady. Finding your son and that girl and then finding a way out of here ought to be our top priority."
"Then be silent and follow me," she spat.
Mitch bowed his head in acquiescence, though the man had an odd talent of being able to make even a bow look rude and insubordinate.
They continued searching for another few hours before Marianne finally called for a break. The reason for her decision was that they had come across a lounge of sorts, though it oddly contained various outdoor tools and a bathtub as well. Nothing about this place made sense. At the very least, it had two sofas where they could rest. It had nothing to do with her own exhaustion, of course.
Marianne and Mitch sat opposite each other in silence. Feeling the silence weigh heavily on her, Marianne spoke.
"You've been a personal guard to the priestess for many years now, isn't that correct?" She asked, folding her arms.
"Ten years, my lady," Mitch replied politely.
Marianne held the man's gaze with an expectant stare. When he refused to expand upon his words, she leaned forward.
"But you were Oscar's man before that, weren't you? You still are."
Those guarding the priestess consisted of a very select group of individuals. Before Oscar's rebellion, the priestess handpicked them herself. Obviously, that was no longer the case, ever since Oscar took direct control of the church. Mitch didn't seem the least bit bothered by the accusation. To Marianne's slight annoyance, the man's stony expression didn't budge.
"I am and will always be loyal to the priestess," he said, placing an odd emphasis on the word 'the'.
Marianne leaned back on her sofa, allowing silence to fill the room once more. She wished she had a guard or two on hand. If that were the case, she could threaten him into revealing information. She didn't consider directly confronting him. The man's abilities were a complete mystery to her, and she couldn't afford to take risks at this point. Finding Matin took priority.
"We haven't seen the Emperor in days. He disappeared along with that blasted fool of an abbot, even before this whole fiasco started. Tell me what you know about that and do not try to avoid the question," she demanded.
Mitch leaned forward.
"Lady Evelyn, surely you know that the Emperor's business is his own? Asking such questions is a dangerous thing."
Marianne let out a sharp laugh.
"Come now, soldier. I doubt my health could be in any more danger than it already is. Surely we will all be dead before the end of the week, so what's wrong with sharing a secret or two?"
"That may be true for some, but it's not true for you, is it, my lady?"
Marianne's smile vanished at the man's words. Realising that she had let her emotions show, she quickly donned her smile again.
"I may be powerful and clever, but even I might be at the end of my rope here. We are trapped in a small area filled with dangerous creatures, and we are not likely to escape until the snow melts. No, I fear that unless another option presents itself, we will all die. Now tell me, where did that bastard Oscar go. And while you're at it, you can tell me where his puppet of a priestess is too!"
It may have been her imagination, but she could have sworn the edges of his mouth had lowered into a very slight scowl. She couldn't be sure, though.
"Truth be told, I have no idea where Oscar and the priestess are. All I know is that his disappearance was very deliberate and that he has nothing to do with what's been happening here. Though you don't need me to tell you that, do you?"
Marianne felt for the lythment at her side, briefly considering drawing and pointing it at the man.
"We've rested enough." Marianne said, getting to her feet.
Mitch, in no hurry whatsoever, got to his feet to join her.
"I do wonder, my lady, how your son is fairing. It must be stressful, you know, being away from his dear mother for so long."
Marianne stormed out of the room. She was this close to attacking the man, armed or not, but doing so would waste precious minutes. Every second counted, and that 'rest' had already cost her much.
It was a few minutes later when Marianne started hearing the sounds. Sounds of labored breathing and wet feet slapping the ground. They had found themselves in yet another long corridor, but this one had countless other hallways crossing each other, creating an impossibly large maze. The sound of slapping feet was growing closer.
"I doubt whatever's making that sound will kindly let us go," Mitch noted as he removed his lythment from its holster.
It was smaller than Marianne's and could easily be handled with a single hand. The upper portion resembled a bracer that he attached to his wrist before grabbing onto a handle that was attached to the lower half. The lower half eventually formed into a short rod that pointed forward and extended from his fist about twenty centimeters. A glowing lyth stone was set into a socket just behind that rod.
Marianne removed her own, which was more standard. The long rod was held in both hands with a single lyth stone set in the rear.
An awful smell reached her nose as the slapping footsteps grew closer.
"Ghouls," Mitch whispered.
Then they appeared from around one of the countless corners. Greyish white skin and bulbous heads filled with teeth. Dark brown and red liquid oozed out of their mouths, noses, and eyes. Their appearance alone was enough to strike fear into her.
"Unholy creatures!" Marianne yelled as she pulled the trigger. With a loud bang, air condensed into the shape of a blade flew from her weapon. A similar, if quieter bang was heard from Mitch's weapon, and the two ghouls in front of them dropped, either sliced from the condensed wind of Marianne's weapon or having a hole burnt straight through them by Mitch's.
The ghouls' bodies fell apart with a sloppy sound. Marianne gagged as the horrible smell intensified.
"We're exposed here, get to a door, any door!" Marianne shouted as she fired more shots towards the growing mass of gray flesh chasing them.
Each shot of hers found its mark, but more creatures just kept coming. Mitch's weapon usually required two shots, but its rate of fire was much faster than hers. His weapon seemed to produce some sort of super-heated projectile that burnt through flesh like butter. She would have to find a way to steal that technology after all was said and done. Perhaps the man would do her a favor and die so she could take it more easily.
They eventually came across a door and entered with great haste. Thankfully, whatever sorcery had separated her from her son had also worked to get them away from the ghouls, and no sound of the creatures at the door reached their ears.
Her brief feeling of relief shattered when she turned around. They were in another blasted hallway, but this one was much larger, feeling more like an open space than a hallway. It contained huge oil paintings hung upon the wall at regular intervals.
"What is the meaning of this?" she asked, her voice shrill.
She had wanted to question how, in the goddess' infinite wisdom, ghouls had entered the monastery, but the sight of the pictures made her forget all about the creatures.
Before her hung a portrait of her family. Matin, a babe in her arms and next to her…
"Darling," she whimpered.
Her late husband. The painting capturing his likeness so perfectly that words escaped her. His short blond hair and kind smile were just as she remembered. The painting looked so real that she unconsciously reached her arm out, intending to grab hold of his hand. Happy memories flooded her mind, and she almost smiled. Then she remembered where she was.
"The image of a perfect, happy family." Mitch said, his tone rather curt.
Marianne couldn't stop a furious scowl from appearing on her lips. Whoever had started this game seemed to be dead set on unsettling her as much as possible. There had never been such a picture painted, and even if it had been, there would have been no reason for it to be here. She turned and walked down the hallway, fully intent on ignoring the picture.
However, when she reached the next picture, her breath caught in her throat and her fists tightened.
The painting was similar to the previous one, though this time instead of Matin, she was holding a bloody knife and her husband was lying in a pool of his own blood.
Marianne shook her head widely and took a step back.
"Lies!" she cried before pulling her weapon and firing a shot. The blade of wind dissipated on impact, leaving the painting unscathed.
"How dare you, how dare you!" she cried, looking desperately all around her. "Where the hell are you? Come out!"
Mitch looked at her impassively before looking up at the paintings with a little interest.
She knew what he was thinking about. Just like everyone else, he was accusing her of murdering the one man she had ever loved. Vultures, everyone! They trampled on her husband's grave all in order to sully her reputation.
"You wanted the power for yourself!"
"Seen this before. A woman killing her husband to gain power. It's not like she had any other way to claim the title."
"First her father, and then her husband, barely two years later. What a horrid shrew."
Voices from her memories pounded her mind, and she covered her ears to try to get away from them.
She felt a hand on her shoulder, followed by a violent shake.
"Get off me!" she yelled, slapping Mitch's hand away.
"We're not alone here." Mitch said, nodding towards the distance.
Marianne looked up and found a hooded woman standing in front of them. She seemed to meld into the darkness that seemed to be spreading from farther down the hallway.
Marianne knew this woman.
"You again, are you responsible for this?" Marianne shrieked, turning her weapon on the familiar visitor.
"This is a product of your mind, Marianne. It's not very mature to blame others for your personal baggage, you know," the figure said in a mocking tone.
"What would you know of my so-called trauma? All this is simple slander and lies, nothing more!"
"And yet it rattles you so."
"Enough! Where is Matin? You promised me, you promised-"
Marianne's finger pressed down on the trigger. She wanted to shoot, if only to release the pent-up fury that had been building inside her. All she needed was one good excuse.
"The promise will be kept. Don't you worry so much, or your hair will fall out just like that time when-"
Marianne pulled the trigger.
The wind blade flew forward, straight towards the girl's head. Yet, it stopped. Right before it sliced her skull in two, it stopped. It floated, suspended in mid-air before dissipating.
"That's interesting. I didn't think that would be enough to enrage you so. You were always so sly and calculating. More pictures await, you know."
Marianne felt as if her fingers were frozen to her weapon. Just what in the name of the Goddess was this woman?
"Well, whether you killed your dear husband or not, your son remained, didn't he? You're one last hope. The very reason for your existence"
The hooded woman looked up at another picture further down the hall, and Marianne followed her gaze. Matin was standing there, a little older than before. He had his back to his father's corpse, a carefree smile on his face.
"You kept the nature of his father's death a secret from the boy."
Marianne didn't respond, and the woman turned and walked forward towards the next painting. Marianne, despite her reluctance, found herself following. Mitch looked intrigued and said nothing while walking along with them. Damn that man.
"Placing all your eggs in one basket is never a good idea, is it, Marianne?" The woman said as she looked up at the portrait.
Marianne shut her eyes tight and, for the first time this day, felt genuine fear. Not even being attacked by ghouls had made her feel this way.
"Go on… look." The woman cooed.
As if by some form of compulsion, her eyes opened, and she looked towards the next painting.
The family was now two. She stood there, smiling proudly, her hand on her son's shoulder. That was fine. It was Matin that caused her to take a deep breath.
He was older now, about the age he was when he was applying for his place at Mount Moore Academy. His face, his face was-
Marianne looked away with a small cry. Her son's face was contorted. His mouth was open much wider than humanly possible as black tears flowed down his face, his skin covered in jagged red lines like blood vessels. It looked like he was screaming in pain.
"You pushed him too far. Putting all your hopes and dreams on his frail shoulders. No wonder he turned out the way he did," the figure said, clicking her tongue in disapproval.
Marianne rounded on her.
"All I did was prepare him for the world he would have to face. He was my everything!" she screamed, not caring if her words held any meaning or not.
The woman smiled.
"Of course he was. I never denied your love for him."
Marianne wanted to fire another shot but could no longer even lift her weapon. The woman continued on, and Marianne followed. She never made the decision to follow. It simply happened. She did not resist.
The last picture showed her and Matin as they were now. He hid behind her as she stood proudly, holding a lythmen. They stood on a hill of corpses. Men, women, and children around them with broken bodies.
"Even if it means burning the entire world, will you still defend him?" The woman asked, her voice taking on a serious tone for the first time.
Marianne looked up at the painting and took a deep breath.
"Of course I will," she said, each word as strong as steel.
The woman nodded, satisfied with the answer.
"Well then, hurry and find him. I'm sure this maze of mine is taking quite the toll on him."
The woman gestured towards the door ahead, a sly smile on her face.
Marianne thought about punching her, but decided against it. If a speeding shard of condensed wind wasn't going to do anything, then her fists, as reliable as they were, were likely to be just as useless.
She stepped forward.
"Do be careful. There are those who know," the woman called out to her.
Marianne didn't respond but glanced sideways towards Mitch, who had not said a word during the entire ordeal. He was acting strangely. Had he not looked directly at the woman, she would have thought he hadn't seen her. As always, his calm exterior did not change. She would have to confront him after she got Matin back.
With a determined step, she walked through the door, leaving the sound of cackling behind her.