Chapter 193 – Floor 21: Part 3
“I congratulate the few of you that have managed to come this far.” The Mona Lisa said that although Mathew knew by her tone, she wasn’t happy to do so. Her small smile had disappeared, replaced with a frown that caused creases in her painted forehead.
“She looks like she’s sucking on a lemon.” Gwen observed from beside him, and Mathew gave her a brief smile in response. A few dozen of them were still alive after the last test, and Mathew had barely recovered from the ordeal.
His leg felt like it was on fire, and even the most potent potion could alleviate the pain. He focused on the hovering painting in an attempt to ignore the pain. Mathew had barely passed the last test, and he doubted he would be capable of any more physical contests, not with his current limitations.
For the first time since he had left the Punishment Floor, Mathew feared he would fail again.
‘That’s not going to happen.’ Mathew tried to assure himself. He caught the flitting image of a Celestial Spirit out of the corner of his eye. They seemed to be hiding from the hovering painting above, scurrying around on the outskirts rather than approaching him closely.
“The final test begins now.” The painting said, and stone plinths rose up from the ground in front of each person. The items on each plinth were different for each person; for Mathew, there were four.
A small leather book with a golden sun on the front, but its pages were blank.
A metal compass that had a star depicting the four directions. It was pointing toward the ‘North’ but would occasionally wobble, then spin rapidly before stopping in a different direction.
There was a small vial that contained a clear liquid. It had a cork in the top to keep it sealed.
Finally, there was a broken quill. Made of a feather, it was snapped in half, but the metal nib of the quill still had a small amount of ink on the end. Mathew noticed that the ink was still wet.
“What are we supposed to do with these?” Gwen asked, and the crowd listened intently to the response.
“These items contain the essence of my Master’s art, they are the physical manifestation of his ‘Inspiration.’ Inside them is the ‘key’ to my master’s vault. Find the key within, and you may exchange it for a single treasure.”
“That isn’t much of an explanation. You could have-” Gwen grumbled as she reached her hand toward one of her own items, a battered and ripped coin purse. Her eyes lost focus when her fingers brushed against the old leather, and she immediately stopped talking.
“Gwen?” Mathew asked with concern, but Mona Lisa’s voice interrupted him.
“Impressive, she has already achieved communion with my Master’s essence. Perhaps she will succeed after all.” The Mona Lisa commented. Seeing that Gwen wasn’t about to respond as she was in some kind of trance with her hand wrapped around the coin purse, Mathew turned back to his own items.
After selecting one of the objects, the small vial of clear liquid, Mathew tentatively reached toward it. He nearly winced when his fingers skimmed the cold glass of the container. Expecting to be immediately assaulted by strange visions or foreign mana, he relaxed when nothing happened.
“Am I doing it wrong?” Mathew asked himself as he lifted the vial and held it closer to his face. He shook it slightly and watched the liquid inside splash against the sides. Not having any reaction, he even popped the cork and took a sniff.
It lacked any kind of smell, and Mathew was sure that it was just water. Placing the cork back on the vial, he placed it back on the stone plinth and grabbed another item. With the broken quill in his hand, Mathew still wasn’t gifted with a vision.
After examining the last object, the book with blank pages, Mathew dropped it onto the stone plinth in frustration. Gwen was still in her trance, her eyes closed, and she was murmuring almost silently to herself.
Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.
Glancing around, Mathew saw that most people in the room had the same problem as himself. One young woman had taken to ripping apart her object, a down-filled pillow, and there were feathers flying around in every direction from her efforts.
Taking a deep breath to ease his fraying nerves, Mathew gripped one of the objects at random and closed his eyes. If a vision wasn’t going to come to him naturally, he would force it! Mana surged inside him, and he vigorously cycled it inside his body.
All his efforts accomplished was to stir the air around him and blow away the white feathers that littered the ground.
“Your time is up.” The Mona Lisa said, her voice was thunderous, and he saw that she was pleased about something. Her smirk was back, and her condescending attitude was in full force. Her eyes moved across the crowd, and she began to judge them.
“Failure.” She said, and Mathew could feel an oppressive power descend from above. It struck a young man at the end of the line with the force of a hammer. It obliterated his body, and he was instantly turned into a fine, bloody mist.
When her eyes turned to the next person, a young woman, she tried to plead her case.
“Please! You didn’t properly explain what we were supposed to do!” She argued, and this time, Mathew was sure that the Mona Lisa smiled. She was enjoying this immensely.
“Failure!” Again, the force descended, and the young woman disappeared, leaving only a red-painted smear on the floor.
Mathew broke out into a cold sweat. No one had passed! When he looked around at the others in the room, he saw that Gwen was holding a small, crystal key in her hands.
“Where did you get that?” Mathew asked her, and she shook her head.
“It was inside the items I had. Don’t ask me how I got it; I have no idea.” Gwen responded, her tone sad as she quickly saw that she was the only one among the dozens of people with a key.
“What are you going to do?” Gwen asked. The Stone Plinths had descended into the ground after the Mona Lisa had announced their time was up. Without the key, there was no chance for any of them to pass.
“Failure! AHA AHAH!” The Mona Lisa was laughing loudly as she killed another person. The players were panicking as several tried to flee. But they were inside the ‘Painted World.’ There was nowhere to run.
Before Mathew could reply, a group of several people banded together and began to cast spells, use blessings and even throw their weapons at the floating painting. Mathew watched as an avalanche of mana and weapons collided with the Mona Lisa, who was still smirking.
Their attacks did nothing; they slid off the painting harmlessly. There was a force surrounding her, a similar energy that the painting ‘Self-Portrait’ possessed. The oppressive force doubled, then doubled again, and the group of players evaporated.
Seeing that the others were momentarily subdued, the Mona Lisa looked down at the key in Gwen’s hands. She seemed to have mixed emotions about the young woman’s success, and she let out a resigned sigh.
“Pass. You may enter the vault and choose one item from within.” The painting declared. Gwen looked at Mathew with a pitying gaze as a door appeared in front of her. When she was out of sight, the door closed, and the painted eyes of the Mona Lisa looked down at him in judgment.
“Failure.” She condemned him, and there was undeniable glee in her voice. The oppressive force descended once again, and Mathew looked around for anything to help him get out of this situation. By happenstance, his gaze met that of one of the Celestial Spirits.
It was hovering just on the edge of the courtyard, its transparent body flittering in and out of existence. The spirit was speaking the same sentence it always did, its voice joining with the others of its kind on the edge of Mathew’s hearing.
For the first time, he could make out what it said.
“You must help us.”
“I would, but I’m about to be killed!” Mathew yelled, and time slowed down by half a beat. His vision narrowed until it was just him, the celestial spirit and the painting of the Mona Lisa above him. Even the weight of the foreign, oppressive power eased slightly.
“You must help us.” The spirit repeated, and this time, Mathew could feel something form between them. It reminded him of the connection he had with the Tower or the link the ‘Spirit’ attribute had with the gods.
This new connection was weak and probing like a child tentatively reaching out its hand and brushing against his.
“You must help us.” The spirit repeated again, and Mathew nodded.
“I will. If you help me, I’ll help you in return.” Mathew promised. When the words left his mouth, time completely ceased its flow, and the celestial spirit nodded its head in acknowledgment.
“You will help us.”
The celestial spirit spoke before its translucent body floated directly in front of Mathew. Its feet settled onto the floor, and it slowly took on corporeal form. It was long-limbed and pale; its hands had only four fingers. Its hair was long and completely white, but its eyes captured Mathew's attention.
They were black. Not the black of a pupil or of the night, but the darkness of the void between stars. They were endless pools of emptiness, and Mathew found himself getting lost inside them. His mind became as slow as the flow of time.
The Celestial slowly reached up and touched Mathew’s forehead with its long finger, and Mathew’s entire universe shattered.