Finding the Dungeon [publishing]

Chapter 13

"What is it?" Oliver replied, suddenly serious-faced.

"I'll have to ask these young'uns to leave, I'm afraid."

Leo and Ryuu nodded, and were escorted along with Boa into a side room. They noticed multiple security cameras the moment they walked in, and they heard the scraping of a key in a lock. The room seemed peaceful, with beautiful purple patterns covering the deep blue walls.

Ryuu knocked on the wall.

"These are insanely thick walls..." he remarked.

Looking around, Leo placed Boa on a nearby sofa. He nodded, pressing his ear to one of the walls.

"Be careful. There are cameras here," Ryuu lowered his voice to a whisper.

"Got it," Leo murmured back.

"There's not much point doing that," an unfamiliar voice called from a speaker in the corner of the room, "We can hear you as well."

"Shit," a startled Ryuu muttered under his breath.

"Calm it down in there."

***

Niamh was standing over Nyxie, staring into her eyes. She gave a small intake of breath, which made Nyxie shudder. She was holding some sharp instruments that she didn't particularly want touching her.

A flash of white. Nyxie blinked as the brightness ingrained into her mind.

"You saw that?" Niamh asked calmly, though she was obviously trying to steady her voice.

Nyxie nodded. Another flash. The light burned at her eyes and she shut them tight.

"Good."

The light was searing in her unprotected eyes.

"And three... two... one."

A final flash.

The rain pouring down on her back, Nyxie made her way along the pavement. She recognised this as her route back home from her school. She had her backpack weighing down on her back, and an umbrella in her left hand, desperately trying to save the books inside. In her right hand was a large cello, her P.E. uniform in a bag, a cello spike holder tucked under her armpit, and an art folder clenched in the remaining space in her hand.

Whose folder is this? She asked herself, but instantly knew the answer. Her younger sister's, obviously.

Her hands were rough, red and very, very sore. She felt them burn as the cello case dipped slightly into a puddle the size of a lake. The rain beat down on her face, and the umbrella hooked itself onto a nearby bramble. She sighed, and turned around in an attempt to free it.

"How the fuck do you even do that?"

A couple of students were walking past her, laughing. Younger years. Maybe in Zehra's year, but she didn't really know.

Nyxie felt the wave of embarrassment that surged down her previous self. She wanted to comfort herself, but didn't even know how.

Ah. Too bad. The books were as soaked as she was.

Trudging down the road in her sodden socks and shoes, she felt the rain beat harder down on her back. She could barely move quickly now, and she stumbled towards the vague direction of the Shimizu mansion.

Why wasn't there a servant to come pick her up? She thought, but answered it herself again. At Maria and Poppy's prom.

Her legs almost gave way underneath her, but she kept herself steady. Focus. She told herself. Calm it down. Not much longer to go.

What felt like an hour passed, and she met the mountain-like hill that lead up to the house. Mustering the last of her energy, she pulled herself forwards.

"Can someone open the door?" she shouted at an open window. An open window, really? In this thunderstorm?

She shook the thought away, and stepped up onto the porch. Nyxie immediately wished that it had that it had a ceiling above it. The cello was so wet that she wasn't sure if it would work properly anymore.

Glad that the art was in a waterproof folder, she tried to reach for her spare keys.

No one else in her family even needed keys at all, but Nyxie knew that the servants were all going to be busy at this time, so she planned ahead.

She couldn't reach them. Of course that would happen. They were in her bag, which had fallen down, off her shoulders and by her elbows. The spike holder was slipping out of her grasp, and almost fell to the ground.

"Is anyone home?" she called, hopefully. She used the end of the feeble umbrella to try and ring the bell.

Five minutes passed, and a single servant sauntered over to the door.

"What's this racket?" he grumbled, unlocking the door. "You!" he said, upon seeing a sodden Nyxie. He rolled his eyes, and took a good look at her before slamming the door in her face.

"Hey?" she called. "Please! Let me in!"

The servant laughed from the other side of the glass.

"No chance."

"I have Princess Zehra's stuff on me, they'll get wet!"

And the door swung open again. "Why didn't you say so?" he snapped, taking the art folder from her bloody hands.

Nyxie tried to get up to her room, but her energy was fading fast. She got to the entrance of her room, and dropped her stuff in the doorway. She collapsed over the threshold, but it didn't matter. The only ones who ever came to the last floor were her personal servants, who were dealing with other issues until late into the night.

She started to sob, and fat tears rolled down her cheeks. Her eyes were looked glassy, but her skin was an unhealthy shade of puffy red.

"It's okay," she talked to her mirror, when she finally picked herself off the ground. "You'll look like a clown if you don't stop crying."

She gently slapped her cheeks, and tried to laugh it out. Snot dribbled out of her nostrils, and her face was flooded with her tears.

Nyxie lay down on the floor. "You'll be okay. You'll be fine."

The next flash brought her back into the present. Niamh was staring into her eyes, and it felt like the woman could see her soul.

"Okay, that's good. It's working."