Vanessa Montero and her friends entered the next room and found themselves aghast. They looked out across a long, dimly lit hallway with a lengthy blood red carpet, moldy wood cabinets and a musky cavernous scent. But something was off. As they walked, the hallway began to twist itself like a funhouse mirror, allowing them to walk in a spiraling loop-de-loop.

“Looks like the illusionist Everblood is up to his old tricks,” Cyrus said.

Van swallowed hard. Was she going to face that murderous monster one on one? Last time, she wasn’t able to inflict a scratch on the masked fiend and that was when she had her trusty sword. Now she had a wild and unorthodox bladeling that barely listened to her commands. She prayed to the creator for a chance at success, and when they found themselves at the end of the spiral, Antonio held her by the shoulders.

“I have a feeling it’s your turn, chica?” He said, his dark handsome eyes making her feel cozy and warm. “But you got this. If you can tame a wild and handsome beast like me, you can tame that wild sword of yours.”

Van blushed and nodded. “I’ll give it a knight’s best.”

“And a lady’s best,” Antonio said in his suave, deep voice and he bent over and kissed Vanessa on the lips.

“Of course,” she giggled and sighed as her lips tingled.

She put on a brave face and opened the door herself. She let out a horrified gasp as soon as she saw what lay inside.

The masked man stood in front of an enormous white mansion on the top of a verdant hill. It was elegantly carved in white wood and stretched the entire length of the hill. Smoke billowed out of a brick chimney. Van immediately slumped to her knees and looked up at the masked man.

“Welcome Vanessa,” he said with a deep laugh. “I have prepared a special illusion tailor made for your mind.”

“That’s…that’s…” Vanessa stuttered.

“I have a good feeling you know exactly where that is,” the Everblood laughed again. ‘And let me speak some words of wisdom to you: Sometimes our greatest traumas ensnare us worse than the grandest illusion. In order to face me, you must relive the memory that torments you the most.”

Vanessa’s knees felt like they were on rolling pins--unable to stand--and she turned her head, refusing to look directly at the white mansion.

The Everblood’s voice resounded. “Surely you don’t want to give up now? I will let you know one thing. Deep within this illusion, something is not quite right. And like all illusions, if you find it, it will shatter. Does the mighty knight Henry Celine have what it takes to overcome her greatest challenge?”

“Don’t speak that name, you murderer,” Van hissed. “I will. In the name of Sir Lance Celine.”

Van’s jelly legs quickly stiffened as she rose to her feet and approached the mansion. She opened the front door and found herself standing in the slums of the Tocatta castle town. Cobble stone streets were stained with feces and broken bottles as old hobos in gray rags inched their way across them. She looked through the crowd of people and made eye-contact with a young poofy haired child in a torn robe. The 11 year old child walked carefully to avoid stepping on debris with her bare feet. Men with dirty faces sneered at her; only her hunting knife kept them from pursuing her.

Van immediately recognized the child as herself, and as they looked at each other, she felt her consciousness merge together. This was the lowest point in her life, and she remembered how hopeless she felt as a beggar. But as she remembered this moment in her life, she knew how quickly it changed when an interesting man walked down the streets.

An older man carefully made his way past the local tavern. He wore a bright pink and white checkered cape over a white tunic with baggy black pants fastened with a belt and dark leather shoes. He sported a fully trimmed beard and close cropped grey hair with a widows peak. He looked like a noble, bearing the royal Tocatta colors.

Young Van quickly dashed out of sight, hiding in a back alley to observe the strange visitor of the slums. Plans quickly filled her head. She would come up behind him and put her knife at his side. Then she’d safely drag him back into the alley and mug him.

She watched as the old man passed. As soon as his back was turned, she quickly emerged like a shadow with her knife behind her back .

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Moving up beside the old man, Van quickly glanced down in shock as she felt a sharp blade held to her own side. The man spoke in a deep but refined voice, “Ho ho ho, a master assailant conceals their blade much more effectively than you, my young friend.”

With a grunt, Van swung her knife to knock his sword away. She jumped back and extended her knife at the man’s throat. “Give me all of your money old man, or I’ll cut you down.”

The man let out a laugh. “I admire your bold thrust. But when you reach your arm all the way out, it leaves it open to be lopped clean off!”

He swung his sword right at Van’s arm, causing her to scream and pull her hand back just in time. Her knife clattered to the ground. The old man reached down and grabbed her knife, deftly twirling it with one hand. “The streets are no place for one as young as yourself. At least one who cannot defend themselves properly…but perhaps…”

The man extended his hand with the knife in it. Van felt herself feeling hesitant to take it. The man gives her a firm glance, letting her know he was genuine. “Come with me…if you wish to learn the ways of the sword.”

Van remained in a petrified state and gazed helplessly at the man. The man turned around and started to walk away, and as he walked further and further into the crowd, Van started to move too.

The walk continued through the upper class castle town until they exited the towering pink and white gates and followed a dirt path to a mighty green hill. A white mansion stood perched on the hill, overseeing the castle town with a great pride. Van never saw a building that rivaled Tocatta castle but this mansion was as close as it got.

“Welcome to my humble abode,” the man said as he stood outside a dark gate that curled in elegant patterns. “You are welcome to stay as long as you like. As long as you don’t mind sharing it with an old kook.”

The man laughed at his own joke, but his face changed to concern as he saw Van standing nervously away from him. “I’m sorry, I haven’t introduced myself. I am getting remiss in my old age. The name is Sir Lance Celine. What do you call yourself?”

Van looked up at him bashfully, deliberately avoiding eye contact. “You don’t have to tell me if it troubles you,” Celine said.

“I’m…Vanessa…Vanessa Montero,” she blurted out.

Celine bowed his head. “Ah yes. The noble Montero family. Proud blacksmiths. They hail from west of here? I did not know they resided in this town.

Van looked away again. “They don’t,” she said. “I came here all on my own. I’m not with my family…I…I…”

Van stuttered nervously but Celine simply nodded his head. “I will not pry anymore, my young friend. Let us just drown our troubles in food and drink. Fortunately, I have a hearty amount.”

Van’s body revolved and she found herself sitting at an elegantly carved table that stretched the length of the room. The table was nicely lined with a hand-woven table cloth emblazoned with tapestries that mirrored the pink and white Toccata coat of arms. A caldera full of wax white candles burned brightly and intermingled with the smell of roasted and glazed liccan. Van’s stomach growled ferociously as a butler with a twirly mustache delivered her the morsel on a silver platter. As he poured a dark purple grape juice into her cup, she quickly swiped it and scarfed down the chicken with one hand and swigged the grape juice with the other.

Sir Celine simply laughed. “Not even combat brings out our animalistic urges like delicious food.”

Van looked at him with wide eyes as her cheeks glowed bright red. “Continue,” he said. “I was just about to join in the merriment!”

He quickly grabbed the liccan and rubbed his face into it as he ate it. The residue of the meat stuck in his gray beard. He held it away from his face. “How do I look?” He asked.

Van giggled quietly about his glazed beard, but she tried her hardest to hide it.

“As they say,” Celine said. “Eat, drink and be merry, and now you are all three things!”

Van’s eyes nervously shifted towards him and she asked with a timid expression. “Why…why are you being so nice to me?”

Celine’s eyes grew serious and he spoke with honesty. “It’s been a while since I’ve had a visitor. I guess being old and trapped with a thousand memories makes you lonely.”

Van nodded quietly and continued eating. When she had finished at last, she said simply, “Thank you.”

“There is a guest room on the second floor at the far end of this mansion,” Celine said. “You are welcome to stay there if you please.”

Van was silent and thought over her response. “Ok…Thank you…”

Van slid her wooden chair away from the table and walked out of the room, leaving Celine. She entered a small hallway insulated with a pink carpet. Candles illuminated the smooth wooden walls and as she walked, a painting on the wall caught her eye. It depicted a handsome young man with a large brown beard and a widows peak clad in steely armor. He was proud looking, with only a slight touch of boldness on his face. A beautiful blond haired woman in a laced vermillion dress was at his side. Her face was highlighted by rosy dimples and lively green eyes. Together they sat under a towering brown oak tree. Chivalrous love fascinated her young mind and she let out a sigh.

“There’s nothing like young romance,” Sir Celine remarked. “Love is the greatest gift anyone in the world could have.”

“Who are they?” Van said softly, letting her guard down.

“You don’t recognize me?” Celine laughed. “Ho ho ho, I suppose my hairline was less questionable back then.”

Van turned around, her large eyes were captivated by the sight of the portrait and they shone brightly. “Who is she?”

Celine’s eyes gave off the same captivated look. “Her name is Kayleigh and she was indeed the love of my life,”

“What happened to her?” Van asked.

A certain wistful sorrow overcame Celine’s vision. “Do you really wish to know?”

“Of course,” Van said.

Celine was quiet for what seemed like an eternity, but at last, he spoke. “Are you ready for a tale of glee and woe? Of sickness and war? Of love and loss?”

Van’s eyes and a simple nod said exactly what she was thinking and the old man told his tale.