Flying through the rift, Urn landed onto the new room he had been pulled into facefirst, Abrax grinning down at him from underneath his hood. “You’re something else, kid.”
Urn pulled himself off the ground, staring down at the gray mouse in his hands and smiled at Abrax. “You haven’t seen anything yet- that’s lightwork compared to the things I’ve dreamt about.” Bolts of lightning that fire from my fingertips, the power to walk the distance of a thousand steps in one, the power to move through space-time like water. With this locket, I’m finally free to do all of it.
“So you figured it out, huh?” Abrax gestured to the room they were in; the ceiling was low, and surrounding them were twelve different doors. “I do want to guide you, but there’s no point if you can’t cure my boredom. So tell you what; you keep on surprising me, and I’ll give you some advice.”
“For someone with such low expectations, that’ll be easy.” Urn scoffed, and walked towards the door he was directly facing, reaching out and touching it. So far, he’d discerned two of the locket’s powers; One, it has the power to link minds. I’m not sure how, but I managed to do that with this feller here to tell him my plan. He watched the mouse nibble at his thumb and stroked its head gently. And the second…probably has something to do with enhancing my third eye. The locket could sense Abrax’s bloodlust and instinctively tightened up, so it must be something related to the third eye…
Closing his eyes, he concentrated, focusing only on the door which lay before him, and the aura of what might be behind it. Slowly, tendrils of reddish energy began to slither out from underneath the door, coiling around it threateningly like ethereal snakes. Shit! Urn snatched his hand away from the door and backed up several steps, nearly tripping over his robes.
“Getting scared already? You’ve already gotten this far; no calling it quits now.” Abrax wagged his finger patronizingly and Urn rolled his eyes, dusting himself off and turning to the next door. That settled it; I have to thoroughly check every door, unless I want to end up dead. If I let my hand linger on that door for even a second more- Urn grinned and tapped his fingers against the next door, concentrating. I would have lost it.
This time, as he honed in on the energies of the door, an immediate sense of danger didn’t overcome him, but instead, a sense of wrongness. A trap door below Urn’s feet creaked, before opening up, and Urn rolled out of the way, barely avoiding the spike which came shooting out of it. Pushing his sweaty palms up against the floor, his gaze lingered on the spike a little longer then he would have liked. Damn it. This isn’t the right door? What if the next time, I’m too slow to move? What if I’m too slow to catch onto it and I die- or what if I concentrate too hard and let my guard down? Or what if-
“What happened to all that confidence?” Abrax sighed and shook his head. “You may have guts, but you’re still just a brat. If the outcome isn’t a guaranteed success for you, you falter and second-guess yourself. But I guess that makes sense; only a chosen few humans are capable of moving with absolute faith in themselves. Like your grandfather.”
“What are you yapping about?” Urn retorted, moving onto the next door, and tapping his palm up against the door. “Just be quiet and wait for me to finish. This is just the start.” Urn wiped his forehead,concentrating…and then stumbled backwards, a great pressure slamming into his forehead, as if it was being hit repeatedly by an invisible hammer. Opening his eyes, he glanced around nervously and slid backwards; where would the next attack come from? As he fretted, a trapdoor on the ceiling opened up, an enormous pillar sliding out of the trapdoor and slammed into the floor before him, sending cracks spider webbing through the stone. It was only a few inches away from his face; if he were just a little closer, he would have been smashed into the pavement.
Slowly shifting his eyes to the next door, he took an uneasy step towards it, as thoughts of what might come next flooded his brain.
“Told you. I admire your spirit, I really do, but face it; you aren’t anything special.” Abrax sighed. “You’re dissatisfied by your static, unchanging life, but you aren’t fit for the life of a magician either. You said you came from Shore City, right? Why don’t you go home and go back to…fishing. Or whatever you do there.”
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“Be quiet.” Urn snapped, anger fueling his motivation once again. Taking a step towards the next door, he glanced over his shoulder, and immediately felt his stomach drop. How many doors have I done? 1…2...ten more to go. Ten. 10. Ten. 10. Ten…. Urn dug his fingers into his arm and gritted his teeth. No bitching about it. I have to do this; I was born for this, after all. He’s wrong. I need to prove him wrong. I’m not like that trash back home.
Urn reached out and touched the next door, closing his eyes hesitantly. Concentrating, he reached out and tried to grasp the aura of whatever might be behind the door; yet he couldn’t. He could feel nothing. Absolutely nothing. I’m not concentrating enough-wait how long has it been? The trap-the trap- I need to move out of the way! Urn stumbled back several steps, tripping and falling onto the ground. Gazing at the door in horror, he waited for whatever trap would befall him…and then the mail slot on the door opened up, a spear shooting out and stabbing into the ground right between his legs. “...”
I can’t. Urn stared down at the spear between his feet, despair thick in his gaze. I was stupid to think I could ever do this. I’m not like my grandfather. She warned me- she warned me and I didn’t listen. Why…why did I pick up this thing in the first place? I have to move- I need to do something- there’s no turning back-so…where? Where do I…go? If I make the wrong choice, I’ll die. I don’t want to die. Things were just starting to get fun; but maybe I misjudged it all. Urn buried his head into his lap. Shit. Is he right?
As Urn’s thoughts spiraled into despair and defeat, he felt something nudge at his hip. Scampering out of his pocket, the gray mouse scurried up his arm, and sat on his shoulder. Putting a front leg on Urn’s face, its beady eyes seemed to see right through Urn. Urn. It thought, and Urn lifted his head, turning towards the mouse.
Stay strong.
Was all the mouse thought, before patting the side of Urn’s head reassuringly again. They were simple words, but to Urn, they were like a ray of sunlight, piercing through the dark clouds that were his thoughts. Stay strong. Stay strong. Stay strong. Urn thought to himself, and grinned. His sister had always said those words; that was the kind of lady she was. She couldn’t go a single day without rambling on about some sort of inspirational speech she’d just come up with, and everytime Urn had taken them for granted. Her words were just nonsense to him at the time.
Stay strong, were the only words that Urn could remember from every nonsensical, long winded speech she told; they weren’t inspiring at the time, only funny. They weren’t inspiring now either, but the hilarity of the words reached out and touched Urn. She’s so corny. And so is this little feller. He smiled at the mouse, tapping it on the nose, and then stood up.
Walking over to the center of the room, he cleared his mind and sat down, folding his legs.
“Huh.” Abrax watched with an intrigued expression; maybe he’d judged him too quickly? He’s no Banjoko…but I have to admit, he’s an interesting guy to watch.
Clearing out the ripples of thoughts in his mind, Urn widened the scope of his senses, and honed in on all the doors surrounding him at once. The auras behind the door sprung out all at once, and Urn was shrouded in a sense of wrongness and danger; none of the doors were the right path. All of them led to certain death. Or.
Urn pulled himself off the ground and stared at a random door, biting his lip. What if…no, that’s stupid. Urn shook off the thought…and then returned his gaze to the door again, and shrugged his shoulders. A grin crept across his face as he shot towards the door, his heart thumping loudly in his chest; if he was wrong, he’d surely end up dead.
But wasn’t that the thrill he’d set out to find in the first place?
To break away from the boring predictability of everyday ordinary life; that was why he had taken the locket. If there wasn’t a risk of being hurt, or things not going his way, then what was the point of going on this journey? The unpredictable life of a magician, and the thrill that came with it; that was what he wanted so badly. I can’t believe I lost sight of that. Reaching for the doorknob, he steeled his resolve, and gripped it with all his strength, pulling the door open and launching himself into the darkness.