His fingers traced the familiar, nostalgic patterns on the wallpaper, and Arthur froze.
"The Arevalo manor... this is my home."
He began to walk forward unconsciously, moving down a seemingly endless corridor flanked by unchanging wallpaper and a series of silent, tightly shut wooden doors.
They wouldn’t open, and no sound came from within, as if they were merely part of the scenery.
But just then, he thought he heard faint crying coming from far in the distance.
Though the sound was almost inaudible, it filled his heart with a strange sadness.
He quickened his pace, heading toward the sound of crying, drawing closer and closer.
Finally, he stopped before a wooden door that looked no different from the others. He hesitated for a moment, then knocked lightly.
The crying from within fell silent. Not another sound could be heard.
Arthur took a deep breath and turned the cold brass handle.
This time, the door opened with ease.
The dim, yellow glow of his lantern revealed the scene within—a simple yet cozy bedroom.
On the desk by the window lay a few open Knight novels and a quill pen. A wooden practice sword hung on the wall, the bed was a mess, and a faint, sweet fragrance seemed to linger in the air.
’This is... Alice’s room.’
Arthur knew it in his heart, and a wave of complex emotions washed over him.
Just as he stood there in a daze, the faint crying started again. It was clearer this time, coming from beneath the bed.
He crouched down, shining the lantern’s light under the bed, and saw a small figure huddled in the shadows.
She had loose brown hair and was wearing a thin nightgown. Her arms were wrapped tightly around her knees, her face buried in the crook of her elbow, and her small shoulders trembled with soft sobs.
She mumbled indistinctly, "Brother... I’m so scared... Brother..."
’Little Alice...’
Arthur remained outwardly calm, but the hand holding the lantern began to tremble uncontrollably.
He reached out a hand, wanting to comfort the sister huddled in the darkness.
"Are you sure you want to interfere with another’s fate?" Violet suddenly warned from his shoulder. "It might make the feather burn faster."
Arthur froze. "And if I do nothing... what happens then?"
Violet’s Gel body wobbled. "I don’t know. In any case, it’s a necessary sacrifice for salvation."
"Salvation, huh..." Arthur murmured.
The next moment, without hesitation, he placed his large, warm hand gently on the little girl’s head.
To him, his sister was never an option to be weighed on a scale.
If this so-called salvation required him to sacrifice someone he cared about, even if it was just an illusion in the Dream Realm... he would rather do without it.
Feeling the warm, familiar touch on her head, little Alice let out a confused "Hmm?" and stopped crying.
She felt a warmth she knew so well from her memories, and a look of joyful surprise spread across her little face.
"Brother... is that you? Are you back?"
Arthur didn’t—and couldn’t—answer, but the lantern responded for him.
The flame consuming the feather suddenly blazed, and a warm, brilliant light instantly filled the room, banishing every shadow and all the cold.
The "night" outside the window receded like a drawn curtain. Golden morning sunlight spilled through the clean glass, casting mottled patterns of light and shadow on the wooden floor.
A few little birds of some unknown kind flew past the window, their chirping filling the air with vibrant life.
Still in her nightgown, little Alice crawled out from under the bed, rubbing her sleepy, tear-stained eyes with curiosity.
She scrambled onto the chair by the window, stood on her tiptoes, and pushed the window open. A morning breeze carrying the scent of fresh grass brushed against her cheeks, and she couldn’t help but smile.
She clasped her hands together, holding the silver pendant around her neck. Facing the bright morning light, she began to pray devoutly. "Cadus above, please watch over my brother... and bring him home safely."
Arthur watched this from the doorway, a warm smile gracing his lips. Then, he gently closed the door.
His world plunged back into pure darkness. Even the long corridor from before was gone.
He looked down at the lantern in his hand and could clearly tell the flame inside had grown much dimmer. The feather was burning faster.
Violet’s voice piped up. "You don’t have much time left, but there’s still hope."
Arthur nodded. Without a word, he tightened his grip on the lantern and strode forward once more.
After walking through the darkness for what felt like an eternity, weathered stone bricks began to appear under his feet. He seemed to have entered a set of ancient, dilapidated ruins, surrounded by collapsed pillars, shattered statues, and overgrown vines.
At the far end of the ruins, he could faintly make out a temple. Though dilapidated, its former grand silhouette was still discernible.
Before he could take more than a few steps, a familiar voice echoed from ahead.
"CAW! Master of shadows, today you die! Let the great and noble Count Brand put a complete end to your rule over this land!"
It was Count Brand, his voice smug and filled with its typical arrogance.
But in the next instant, that voice turned to one of terror.
"CAW! You despicable fiend, calling in so many helpers! AHHHH! Follower, save me! They’re trying to pluck my noble feathers! Help me!"