(align:"=><=")+(box:"======XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX=========")[
You and your fiance are on horseback.
You are heading to an abandoned castle.
It is said that you stole her from her father's kingdom. ]
(align:"=><=")+(box:"======XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX=========")[
During your escape, she was wounded by a poisonous arrow. It's a special kind of poison.
You hope to find its antidote at this abandoned castle.
She has 4 days to live.]
(align:"=><=")+(box:"======XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX=========")[
You feel shame and anger that you let her get hurt on your account. It pains you to watch her suffer quietly. You stomach it for now; you know this pain will make you search harder.
You find [[a small abandoned house]] near the castle.]
(set: $GOOD to 0)
(set: $BAD to 0)
(set: $DET to 0)
(set: $LAST to false)You help your fiance dismount the horse, and help her to the bed in the tiny house. You tell her not to worry.
"I'm not worried, beloved. I know things will work out."
Immediately, you make your way to the [[abandoned castle]]. As you near the castle, its misshapen form comes into view.
You can't recall its name, but the shape reminds you of a story passed around the barracks at Reannai, of a castle made with an intentionally irritating design so as to goad its opponents.
If you remember correctly, its bulbous appearance and arrogant proximity to its neighboring kingdom is the reason it was attacked and so haphazardly vacated.
It's the same reason there should be a potion here.
Or at least, you hope so. For her sake.
You step into the castle and [[choose where you'd like to search]]. (align:"=><=")+(box:"======XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX=========")[
Where do you begin your search?
[[The North Wing]]
[[The South Wing]]
[[The West Wing]]
[[The East Wing]]
[[The Central Foyer]]
[[The Basement]]
]The North Wing.
From the tattered drapes, broken chandeliers, and faded wall decorations, you surmise that this must be have been the royalty's quarters.
You explore each of the empty rooms; the morning light illuminates the floating dust around the empty bedrooms. You're struck by how violently the chairs and chests must have been flung for them to have landed in such positions. Was there some sort of insurrection? Or perhaps a very motivated person was looking for something?
You examine every chest, every drawer, hoping to find something amidst the forgotten valuables, but you cannot find anything besides tarnished silver and gold.
(if: $LAST is true)[The only room not in complete disarray is that of the king's. Granted, the desks are upside down, and shelves have been taken out, but his bed seems to have been undisturbed for decades.
You tear the linens and blankets off the bed, stripping it down in a frenzy. It's probably not here, but it's the last place you can possibly check, so you decide it can't hurt. As you rip off blankets, you hear a **clink, clink** noise against the stone floor.
*There's no way,* you think to yourself. You check the floor where you heard the noise.
You found it.]
(else:)[
It is not here.]
You decide to [[go home]] and check on her. The South Wing, the servants' quarters.
You make your way through the maze of connected rooms, each looking exactly identical. Each room is a simple rectangle made of unpainted brick, with four beds, and with the shrapnel of various broken clay and wooden vessels covering the floors.
You knew from the fables that the castle was erected with frightening speed, and now you can see exactly where the builders saved time. Instead of chests, chunks of the brick wall were hollowed out so as to allow the servants a place to store their few belongings.
(if: $LAST is true)[As you finish the route through all the rooms, you can't help but feel like you might have missed something in all the chaotic clutter. You push yourself to do it one more time, this time keeping an eye on the clusters of holes in the wall. It's getting dark, so you begin to sprint.
Room after room pass you, your eyes hurting as you adjust to see the new room quickly before you move onto the next one. *What was that?* You stop. *Did I see what I think I just did?*
You trace your steps to the previous room. You don't see anything in the walls. You hesitate, but *just* to be sure, you go to the room before this one. There, you see a glint in the walls. In disbelief, you reach your hand into the uneven blemish, and close your hand on a square-shaped glass bottle.
You found it.]
(else:)[You couldn't find it anywhere. It's not here.]
You decide to [[go home]] and check on her. You search the East Wing mess hall.
As you turn the corner, the image before you is striking. Rows and rows of tables, so long and so numerous that it fills up an entire wing of the massive castle.
At first you feel nostagia, remembering your times as an apprentice, serving all the hungry swordsmen during the meal times. But soon your nostalgia fades, and you realize that you must comb through all the broken silverware and dishes in hopes of finding a potion.
You begin your route, using your hands to push aside clutter and analyze any suspicious looking objects. There's a surprising number of things left on the tables-- swords, helmets, books, even some clothes. Who knows what might have happened at the moment they found out they were being invaded?
(if: $LAST is true)[The whole day has gone, and you couldn't come up with anything. *What if someone dropped it?*
Your desperation pushes you to investigate this immediately. You get on your hands and knees, and go underneath the tables. It's hard to see, but you feel your way around and aren't able to find anything. You lift your head, and it bangs against the bottom of the table. You move to rub your head, but it's not sore-- the table is very light.
*I'm a fool, thank goodness Pan isn't here right now.* You stand up and kick over the first row of tables. Then the second. Nothing on the floors. It's getting dark, but you push the third set over, thinking you can't leave here until EVERY BLASTED TABLE has been thoroughly checked. And then, right as you dash to the fourth row, you see a glint in the center of the room. It's small, it's a glass bottle, and there's something green in it.
You found it.]
(else:)[In the end, you make your way through the *entire* mess hall, having touched every single item on the table and seats, and yet you found nothing.]
It is not here.
You decide to [[go home]] and check on her. The Central Foyer is a large, wide open space with a massive staircase leading to the other wings. The decor consists entirely of large statues and stone pillars.
Unlike most castles, this one was built with a singular goal in mind: to give the appearance of opulence. As such, the main floor and staircase are covered with a large rug made from animal skins.
The thickness of the rug is so luxurious, you think it'd be quite easy to lose a small potion bottle inside the matted furs. You get to work, and from dusk til dawn, you comb through the carpet with your bare fingers. The work is long and tedious, but you pass the time by escaping to your memories.
You remember the first time you were ever screamed at. Your master, a terrible and large man, had come from a feast and brought along his favorite fish-bone toothpick. He had business with the head knight from a nearby castle, and went to visit him. As it happens, the master dropped his toothpick in the carpet of the castle's main hall, and sent you to find it.
Smiling, you remember how many hours you spent in fear, searching for the toothpick you knew you'd never find, while the residents of the castle watched you with concern. In the end, the servant cook took pity on you and gave you a leftover fish bone to take home.
What a scolding that fool gave you when you tried to pass off the cook's fish bone. You laugh to yourself, remembering how that pathetic little bone snapped between his teeth when he used it.
(if: $LAST is true)[It's not here, but you still have some time before the sun sets. You look at the statues, the only thing left in the massive hall. *There's nothing a potion has to do with a statue*, you think to yourself, but you decide to examine them anyway. You remember that the fingers in the gauntlet were a great place to hide small things as a child, so you check there first. Nothing. You remove a few more pieces of armor before moving onto the next statue. You spot of glint of bright green in the chinks of the gauntlet.
*There's no way*, you say to yourself in complete disbelief. *Is it possible that a servant hid a potion in here?*
You twist off the ring finger of the next suit of armor, and small potion bottle pops out.
You found it. ]
(else:)[All you uncovered was handfuls of dead leaves, and a few rocks.]
It is not here.
You decide to [[go home]] and check on her. Upon opening the door to the house and ducking under the short doorway, she asks you, "Did you find it?"
>[["No... the castle is a lot larger than I expected. It took me a whole day just to search through one part of it. Perhaps... perhaps we should not have come here."]]
>[["Not yet, but the castle is much larger than I expected, so there are plenty of places it could be."]](set: $DET to $DET + 1)
(css: "color: mediumturquoise;")[No. You can rest later.] She'll have to suffer a little more, but you know that it's better for her to suffer now than to be-- You choose not to think about that for now. It's okay, you try to tell yourself, there is enough time.
Just like every challenge you've ever faced, the goal is indeed attainable, as long as you give it all the time and effort that is required.
You head back to the castle, and decide to search someplace smaller, one that isn't part of the 5 major sections of the castle.
You remember the bookshelves you ignored this morning, and decide to search all the bookshelves in the castle.
It's long, mundane work. Your arm burns in soreness as you hold the torch close enough to the shelves for you to see, while also keeping enough distance so that the flames don't ignite the dry, aged paper. Worst of all, the sounds of your heavy breathing and desperate rummaging in the empty castle reverberates against your ears, a constant reminder of your isolation, filling you with a vague sense of despair.
In the end, your effort was fruitless.
You leave the castle. The clear, cool air of the night frees you from your mental prison and you begin to think clearly. Of course there aren't any potions in the bookshelves. Who *would* store them there?
Exhausted and disappointed, you arrive at the house.
[[//The night arrives and you fall asleep.//->The night arrives and you both fall asleep.]]"My limbs are less responsive to my will than I'd like, but overall, it's not too bad," she responds thoughtfully.
"The wound is what hurt the most, but that has cleared up almost entirely. It's not even as bad as that fever I had once, really."
Her last sentence sends you into your mind.
A princess. Your pristine emblem of grace and beauty. Physically, she never suffered a day in her life. The poor thing's only point of reference is a childhood fever.
God, you realize. I *love* this woman.
[[The night arrives and you both fall asleep.]]She grins. "Always in a joking mood, aren't we? Perhaps you'll use some of those brains of yours to find me a potion instead of jesting?"
You feign seriousness and play along. "Well perhaps if you're nice to me, but then again, there is *quite* the bounty on your head, isn't there?"
You spend the rest of the night in good spirits, laughing and chatting as if nothing was ever wrong. The sad little house brightens along with your mood, and by nightfall, you almost feel at home.
[[The night arrives and you both fall asleep.]]It is now the morning of the second day. As you wake up and (if: $DET > 0) [groggily] throw on your clothes, you try not to think about it, but the fact cannot escape you.
*She has two more days to live.*
(if: $DET > 0) [You're fully awake now. The sleep has left your eyes, and you are once again filled with purpose. *How did I almost forget?* you chastize yourself for your lack of discipline.]
(if: $GOOD > 0) [You quickly prepare to leave, fueled by your sense of purpose and your growing fear of the situation. Your heart is beating just as quickly as when you arrived the day before, but that painful edge of despair is missing from your thoughts. *I don't have time to waste on hopelessness*, you think to yourself. ]
[[You head off to the castle.]](align:"=><=")+(box:"======XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX=========")[
Where would you like to search?
[[The North Wing.]]
[[The South Wing.]]
[[The West Wing.]]
[[The East Wing.]]
[[The Central Foyer.]]
[[The Basement.]]
]The North Wing.
From the tattered drapes, broken chandeliers, and faded wall decorations, you surmise that this must be have been the royalty's quarters.
You explore each of the empty rooms; the morning light illuminates the floating dust around the empty bedrooms. You're struck by how violently the chairs and chests must have been flung for them to have landed in such positions. Was there some sort of insurrection? Or perhaps a very motivated person was looking for something?
You examine every chest, every drawer, hoping to find something amidst the forgotten valuables, but you cannot find anything besides tarnished silver and gold.
(if: $LAST is true)[The only room not in complete disarray is that of the king's. Granted, the desks are upside down, and shelves have been taken out, but his bed seems to have been undisturbed for decades.
You tear the linens and blankets off the bed, stripping it down in a frenzy. It's probably not here, but it's the last place you can possibly check, so you decide it can't hurt. As you rip off blankets, you hear a **clink, clink** noise against the stone floor.
*There's no way,* you think to yourself. You check the floor where you heard the noise.
You found it.]
(else:)[
It is not here.]
You decide to [[go back home]] and check on her. The South Wing, the servants' quarters.
You make your way through the maze of connected rooms, each looking exactly identical. Each room is a simple rectangle made of unpainted brick, with four beds, and with the shrapnel of various broken clay and wooden vessels covering the floors.
You knew from the fables that the castle was erected with frightening speed, and now you can see exactly where the builders saved time. Instead of chests, chunks of the brick wall were hollowed out so as to allow the servants a place to store their few belongings.
(if: $LAST is true)[As you finish the route through all the rooms, you can't help but feel like you might have missed something in all the chaotic clutter. You push yourself to do it one more time, this time keeping an eye on the clusters of holes in the wall. It's getting dark, so you begin to sprint.
Room after room pass you, your eyes hurting as you adjust to see the new room quickly before you move onto the next one. *What was that?* You stop. *Did I see what I think I just did?*
You trace your steps to the previous room. You don't see anything in the walls. You hesitate, but *just* to be sure, you go to the room before this one. There, you see a glint in the walls. In disbelief, you reach your hand into the uneven blemish, and close your hand on a square-shaped glass bottle.
You found it.]
(else:)[You couldn't find it anywhere. It's not here.]
You decide to [[go back home]] and check on her. You search the East Wing mess hall.
As you turn the corner, the image before you is striking. Rows and rows of tables, so long and so numerous that it fills up an entire wing of the massive castle.
At first you feel nostagia, remembering your times as an apprentice, serving all the hungry swordsmen during the meal times. But soon your nostalgia fades, and you realize that you must comb through all the broken silverware and dishes in hopes of finding a potion.
You begin your route, using your hands to push aside clutter and analyze any suspicious looking objects. There's a surprising number of things left on the tables-- swords, helmets, books, even some clothes. Who knows what might have happened at the moment they found out they were being invaded?
(if: $LAST is true)[The whole day has gone, and you couldn't come up with anything. *What if someone dropped it?*
Your desperation pushes you to investigate this immediately. You get on your hands and knees, and go underneath the tables. It's hard to see, but you feel your way around and aren't able to find anything. You lift your head, and it bangs against the bottom of the table. You move to rub your head, but it's not sore-- the table is very light.
*I'm a fool, thank goodness Pan isn't here right now.* You stand up and kick over the first row of tables. Then the second. Nothing on the floors. It's getting dark, but you push the third set over, thinking you can't leave here until EVERY BLASTED TABLE has been thoroughly checked. And then, right as you dash to the fourth row, you see a glint in the center of the room. It's small, it's a glass bottle, and there's something green in it.
You found it.]
(else:)[In the end, you make your way through the *entire* mess hall, having touched every single item on the table and seats, and yet you found nothing.]
It is not here.
You decide to [[go back home]] and check on her. The Central Foyer is a large, wide open space with a massive staircase leading to the other wings. The decor consists entirely of large statues and stone pillars.
Unlike most castles, this one was built with a singular goal in mind: to give the appearance of opulence. As such, the main floor and staircase are covered with a large rug made from animal skins.
The thickness of the rug is so luxurious, you think it'd be quite easy to lose a small potion bottle inside the matted furs. You get to work, and from dusk til dawn, you comb through the carpet with your bare fingers. The work is long and tedious, but you pass the time by escaping to your memories.
You remember the first time you were ever screamed at. Your master, a terrible and large man, had come from a feast and brought along his favorite fish-bone toothpick. He had business with the head knight from a nearby castle, and went to visit him. As it happens, the master dropped his toothpick in the carpet of the castle's main hall, and sent you to find it.
Smiling, you remember how many hours you spent in fear, searching for the toothpick you knew you'd never find, while the residents of the castle watched you with concern. In the end, the servant cook took pity on you and gave you a leftover fish bone to take home.
What a scolding that fool gave you when you tried to pass off the cook's fish bone. You laugh to yourself, remembering how that pathetic little bone snapped between his teeth when he used it.
(if: $LAST is true)[It's not here, but you still have some time before the sun sets. You look at the statues, the only thing left in the massive hall. *There's nothing a potion has to do with a statue*, you think to yourself, but you decide to examine them anyway. You remember that the fingers in the gauntlet were a great place to hide small things as a child, so you check there first. Nothing. You remove a few more pieces of armor before moving onto the next statue. You spot of glint of bright green in the chinks of the gauntlet.
*There's no way*, you say to yourself in complete disbelief. *Is it possible that a servant hid a potion in here?*
You twist off the ring finger of the next suit of armor, and small potion bottle pops out.
You found it. ]
(else:)[All you uncovered was handfuls of dead leaves, and a few rocks.]
It is not here.
You decide to [[go back home]] and check on her. You open the door to the house.
You hear her small voice ask, "How did it go?"
"No luck," you reply, as you take off your boots.
Your body carries you to the chair beside her bed for a much-needed respite; you've been on your feet for 11 hours now. As you land on the chair, you think, *I don't want to talk, I don't want to think, I just want to*--
"Are you sure you checked everything thorougly?" her voice sharply interrupting your thoughts.
You make eye contact with her.
>"[[Yeah.]]"
>"[[Curses, I should have thought of that.]]"
>"[[Yeah, of course I did!"]]
>"[[I... I don't know. Perhaps I didn't. I should go back.]]" You search the West Wing.
It's full of beautiful metalwork: swords, helmets, shields, armor, arrows, even the bows have decorations on their handles. It reminds you of the old days, when you used to sneak out from the servants' quarters to come imitate what you saw the knights doing during their training with any sword your short, adolescent arms could reach.
The racks which hold the weapons are often used for storage, you remember. *No matter how many times I told my soldiers they'd lose their belongings, they always stored things in the hollow part of the rack during practice.*
You knock over every rack, breaking each one of them open to see if there might be some sort of hidden contraband. (if: $LAST is true)[You break around thirty weapon racks before you find your first item, a little piece of paper detailing the owner's training regiment. It's insignificant, but it's enough to tell you that there's hope. After fourty more broken racks, you hear a **clink clink** noise that didn't come from the mace you were using. In the rubble, you see the tiny glass bottle rolling along.
You found it. ] (else:)[Save for a few pieces of silver, you couldn't find anything.]
It is not here.
You decide to [[go home]] and check on her. You search the West Wing.
It's full of beautiful metalwork: swords, helmets, shields, armor, arrows, even the bows have decorations on their handles. It reminds you of the old days, when you used to sneak out from the servants' quarters to come imitate what you saw the knights doing during their training with any sword your short, adolescent arms could reach.
The racks which hold the weapons are often used for storage, you remember. *No matter how many times I told my soldiers they'd lose their belongings, they always stored things in the hollow part of the rack during practice.*
You knock over every rack, breaking each one of them open to see if there might be some sort of hidden contraband. (if: $LAST is true)[You break around thirty weapon racks before you find your first item, a little piece of paper detailing the owner's training regiment. It's insignificant, but it's enough to tell you that there's hope. After fourty more broken racks, you hear a **clink clink** noise that didn't come from the mace you were using. In the rubble, you see the tiny glass bottle rolling along.
You found it. ] (else:)[Save for a few pieces of silver, you couldn't find anything.]
It is not here.
You decide to [[go back home]] and check on her. (set: $GOOD to $GOOD + 1)
You fought the urge to be irritated, and attempted to give a calm response.
"I see," she mutters, her face pensive.
You slump back into your seat, confident that you'll have a moment to rest.
...
After a well-deserved break, you focus your attention on her for the first time since entering the house.
(display: "signpost 2")(set: $DET to $DET + 1)
(css: "color: mediumturquoise;")[*All right. No more messing around. No more wasting time,*] you think to yourself. You're headed straight for the potion-brewing room.
Granted, you don't know if there is a dedicated potion-brewing room here, but the castles in Reannai always did. There is a terrifying quantity of individual rooms in this castle that you have yet to search, so your theory seems all the more likely.
You spend the night opening doors, peering inside, feeling disappointed, and moving on to the next door.
The narrow hallway stretches on towards infinity. You start opening every two doors to skip some of the monotony. Then you start opening doors from opposite sides of the room. At some point, you start to choose them in a completely random fashion, but it doesn't change anything.
There are still too many rooms to check. There's still nothing you can find. Nothing changes.
You find nothing.
Having been so determined to find something, you lose your way in the castle, and have to navigate your way back to its entrance in the dark.
You go home, and silently [[head to bed]]. "Just... worse, I suppose. There's a sort of dull pain in my whole body. I'm unable to describe it. I can't tell where it begins, or where it ends."
You don't know what to say. You feel grief.
The arrow was meant for you.
After many moments of silence, you both decide to [[head to bed]].She chuckles wrly, "Oh, nothing in particular. Nothing much of anything, really."
Her laugh sounded forced. It must be advancing far more rapidly than she let on.
You consider joking that she's never rested this much since she was a baby, but the anguish on her face keeps your mouth shut, lest you belittle her pain.
She interestedly asks you about your day, and attentively listens to your stories, despite all she's going through.
*The words I'm saying are painfully uneventful, and yet she nods along, following each sentence. Is it to make me feel appreciated? Is she thinking of me, even now??*
You admire her inner strength.
The evening passes quietly, and you both [[head to bed]]. You see a glint of light enter her eyes. "Oh, you're just goading me, Rigg Sessamakesh, I can see right through you."
"No, I'm being perfectly honest!" you exclaim, lying through your teeth.
"In all the commotion, I'd almost entirely forgotten what we have next on the agenda. Pray tell, darling, what happens after we find your potion?"
Her face glows with new joy. "Oh I suppose I can tell you again, but you had better listen this time."
Hours fly by as she details the plans of arriving to Aressa Sessamo, of meeting up with your confidantes. You see the pain leave her face as she dreams about what her Aressan silkdress might look like, and while describing the ceremony, she almost looks like herself again.
You love hearing her open up like this, and surprisingly, your plan worked exactly as you hoped it had might.
In all the excitement, you almost forget that it's night time. You put the energized maiden to bed, and [[head to bed]] yourself. It's the third day.
You've got one day left.
(if: $GOOD > 2) [
*One more day?* You hate to think it but... *is victory even possible?*
Suddenly, your mind recalls the parting words of her father, the brilliant king of Reannai himself. "*Listen to me, son. Put her like a seal over your heart, like a seal on your arm. For love is stronger than death.*"
It made little sense to you in the moment he sent you away with his daughter, but now, you feel it wash away some of your despair, filling you with a kind of reckless strength.]
(elseif: $BAD > 1) [You're feeling more discouraged than ever. Where has the time gone? There's only one day left. Just one more day. What miracle could happen in twenty-four hours?
As you walk the familiar route, you keep your eyes on the castle. The longer you trek, the more the incongruous, asymmetrical floors of the castle's horrible form are revealed by the horizon.
Caught up in your pointed glare towards the abhorrent castle, you stumble on a rock.
You turn around, raise your leg, and kick the jutting shape as hard as you can. It doesn't budge. The leather of your shoes are heavily scuffed.
You kick it again.
And again. And again.
*FAILURE!!*, your mind screams at you, before your thoughts melt into a pool of indiscernable, helpless cries.]
(elseif: $DET > 1) [As you walk the familiar path to the castle, you finally recognize the growing emotion within your heart. Loneliness.
Despite living with her, you feel like you've barely seen your fiance. It seems silly, even ridiculous, but you *cannot* deny that you miss her dearly.
The only times you see her are in the morning before you leave, but you've noticed that your eyes spend less and less time on her each morning, lest her faded skin and eyes cause you greater anxiety.
It'll all be worth it.
It has to be.]
You [[make your way to the castle]]. (align:"=><=")+(box:"======XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX=========")[
Where would you like to search?
[[The Northern Wing.]]
[[The Southern Wing.]]
[[The Western Wing.]]
[[The Eastern Wing.]]
[[The Center Foyer.]]
[[The Basement Floor.]]]The North Wing.
From the tattered drapes, broken chandeliers, and faded wall decorations, you surmise that this must be have been the royalty's quarters.
You explore each of the empty rooms; the morning light illuminates the floating dust around the empty bedrooms. You're struck by how violently the chairs and chests must have been flung for them to have landed in such positions. Was there some sort of insurrection? Or perhaps a very motivated person was looking for something?
You examine every chest, every drawer, hoping to find something amidst the forgotten valuables, but you cannot find anything besides tarnished silver and gold.
(if: $LAST is true)[The only room not in complete disarray is that of the king's. Granted, the desks are upside down, and shelves have been taken out, but his bed seems to have been undisturbed for decades.
You tear the linens and blankets off the bed, stripping it down in a frenzy. It's probably not here, but it's the last place you can possibly check, so you decide it can't hurt. As you rip off blankets, you hear a **clink, clink** noise against the stone floor.
*There's no way,* you think to yourself. You check the floor where you heard the noise.
You found it.]
(else:)[
It is not here.
This is bad.]
You decide to [[go back to the house]]. The South Wing, the servants' quarters.
You make your way through the maze of connected rooms, each looking exactly identical. Each room is a simple rectangle made of unpainted brick, with four beds, and with the shrapnel of various broken clay and wooden vessels covering the floors.
You knew from the fables that the castle was erected with frightening speed, and now you can see exactly where the builders saved time. Instead of chests, chunks of the brick wall were hollowed out so as to allow the servants a place to store their few belongings.
(if: $LAST is true)[As you finish the route through all the rooms, you can't help but feel like you might have missed something in all the chaotic clutter. You push yourself to do it one more time, this time keeping an eye on the clusters of holes in the wall. It's getting dark, so you begin to sprint.
Room after room pass you, your eyes hurting as you adjust to see the new room quickly before you move onto the next one. *What was that?* You stop. *Did I see what I think I just did?*
You trace your steps to the previous room. You don't see anything in the walls. You hesitate, but *just* to be sure, you go to the room before this one. There, you see a glint in the walls. In disbelief, you reach your hand into the uneven blemish, and close your hand on a square-shaped glass bottle.
You found it.]
(else:)[You couldn't find it anywhere. It's not here.]
This is bad.
You decide to [[go back to the house]]. You search the West Wing.
It's full of beautiful metalwork: swords, helmets, shields, armor, arrows, even the bows have decorations on their handles. It reminds you of the old days, when you used to sneak out from the servants' quarters to come imitate what you saw the knights doing during their training with any sword your short, adolescent arms could reach.
The racks which hold the weapons are often used for storage, you remember. *No matter how many times I told my soldiers they'd lose their belongings, they always stored things in the hollow part of the rack during practice.*
You knock over every rack, breaking each one of them open to see if there might be some sort of hidden contraband. (if: $LAST is true)[You break around thirty weapon racks before you find your first item, a little piece of paper detailing the owner's training regiment. It's insignificant, but it's enough to tell you that there's hope. After fourty more broken racks, you hear a **clink clink** noise that didn't come from the mace you were using. In the rubble, you see the tiny glass bottle rolling along.
You found it. ] (else:)[Save for a few pieces of silver, you couldn't find anything.]
It is not here.
This is bad.
You decide to [[go back to the house]]. You search the East Wing mess hall.
As you turn the corner, the image before you is striking. Rows and rows of tables, so long and so numerous that it fills up an entire wing of the massive castle.
At first you feel nostagia, remembering your times as an apprentice, serving all the hungry swordsmen during the meal times. But soon your nostalgia fades, and you realize that you must comb through all the broken silverware and dishes in hopes of finding a potion.
You begin your route, using your hands to push aside clutter and analyze any suspicious looking objects. There's a surprising number of things left on the tables-- swords, helmets, books, even some clothes. Who knows what might have happened at the moment they found out they were being invaded?
(if: $LAST is true)[The whole day has gone, and you couldn't come up with anything. *What if someone dropped it?*
Your desperation pushes you to investigate this immediately. You get on your hands and knees, and go underneath the tables. It's hard to see, but you feel your way around and aren't able to find anything. You lift your head, and it bangs against the bottom of the table. You move to rub your head, but it's not sore-- the table is very light.
*I'm a fool, thank goodness Pan isn't here right now.* You stand up and kick over the first row of tables. Then the second. Nothing on the floors. It's getting dark, but you push the third set over, thinking you can't leave here until EVERY BLASTED TABLE has been thoroughly checked. And then, right as you dash to the fourth row, you see a glint in the center of the room. It's small, it's a glass bottle, and there's something green in it.
You found it.]
(else:)[In the end, you make your way through the *entire* mess hall, having touched every single item on the table and seats, and yet you found nothing.]
It is not here.
This is bad.
You decide to [[go back to the house]]. The Central Foyer is a large, wide open space with a massive staircase leading to the other wings. The decor consists entirely of large statues and stone pillars.
Unlike most castles, this one was built with a singular goal in mind: to give the appearance of opulence. As such, the main floor and staircase are covered with a large rug made from animal skins.
The thickness of the rug is so luxurious, you think it'd be quite easy to lose a small potion bottle inside the matted furs. You get to work, and from dusk til dawn, you comb through the carpet with your bare fingers. The work is long and tedious, but you pass the time by escaping to your memories.
You remember the first time you were ever screamed at. Your master, a terrible and large man, had come from a feast and brought along his favorite fish-bone toothpick. He had business with the head knight from a nearby castle, and went to visit him. As it happens, the master dropped his toothpick in the carpet of the castle's main hall, and sent you to find it.
Smiling, you remember how many hours you spent in fear, searching for the toothpick you knew you'd never find, while the residents of the castle watched you with concern. In the end, the servant cook took pity on you and gave you a leftover fish bone to take home.
What a scolding that fool gave you when you tried to pass off the cook's fish bone. You laugh to yourself, remembering how that pathetic little bone snapped between his teeth when he used it.
(if: $LAST is true)[It's not here, but you still have some time before the sun sets. You look at the statues, the only thing left in the massive hall. *There's nothing a potion has to do with a statue*, you think to yourself, but you decide to examine them anyway. You remember that the fingers in the gauntlet were a great place to hide small things as a child, so you check there first. Nothing. You remove a few more pieces of armor before moving onto the next statue. You spot of glint of bright green in the chinks of the gauntlet.
*There's no way*, you say to yourself in complete disbelief. *Is it possible that a servant hid a potion in here?*
You twist off the ring finger of the next suit of armor, and small potion bottle pops out.
You found it. ]
(else:)[All you uncovered was handfuls of dead leaves, and a few rocks.]
It is not here.
This is bad.
You decide to [[go back to the house]]. Before the door to the house is even fully open, you hear a frantic voice cry out, "Please tell me you found it!"
You respond,
>as (css: "color: palegreen;")[calmly] as you can, [["I don't have it."]]
>with (css: "color: mediumturquoise;")[hurried agreement], and say [["I'm so sorry darling, I didn't find it. I'll take a quick break and get right back to it."]]
>with (css: "color: red;")[frustration], and say [["If I'd found it, I'd have given it to you by now!!"]](set: $DET to $DET + 1)
"Oh you'll take a break while I'm dying?" she remarks icily. "Well we wouldn't want your poor feet to be sore now, huh?"
There's a moment of shocked silence before you speak. Your words come straight from the heart, you don't even have to think about them.
"I don't believe this, I do nothing but spend all my hours searching for your cure and this is how you treat me? You think I don't want to find this? What are you saying??"
She looks wilted. You've fought before, but you've never taken the offensive like this. Worse yet, she knows she was wrong. The dejection turns to shame, the shame turns to anger, and you see it bubble up in her small figure.
(css: "color: mediumturquoise;")[You don't have time to finish this nicely.]
[[You go back in.]](align:"=><=")+(box:"======XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX=========")[
Where would you like to search?
[[The Northern Wing]]
[[The Southern Wing]]
[[The Western Wing]]
[[The Eastern Wing]]
[[The Center Foyer]]
[[The Basement Floor]]
]The North Wing.
From the tattered drapes, broken chandeliers, and faded wall decorations, you surmise that this must be have been the royalty's quarters.
You explore each of the empty rooms; the morning light illuminates the floating dust around the empty bedrooms. You're struck by how violently the chairs and chests must have been flung for them to have landed in such positions. Was there some sort of insurrection? Or perhaps a very motivated person was looking for something?
You examine every chest, every drawer, hoping to find something amidst the forgotten valuables, but you cannot find anything besides tarnished silver and gold.
(if: $LAST is true)[The only room not in complete disarray is that of the king's. Granted, the desks are upside down, and shelves have been taken out, but his bed seems to have been undisturbed for decades.
You tear the linens and blankets off the bed, stripping it down in a frenzy. It's probably not here, but it's the last place you can possibly check, so you decide it can't hurt. As you rip off blankets, you hear a **clink, clink** noise against the stone floor.
*There's no way,* you think to yourself. You check the floor where you heard the noise.
You found it.]
(else:)[
It is not here.
This is really bad.]
You decide to [[wait until she's asleep before going in, to avoid having to face her]]. The South Wing, the servants' quarters.
You make your way through the maze of connected rooms, each looking exactly identical. Each room is a simple rectangle made of unpainted brick, with four beds, and with the shrapnel of various broken clay and wooden vessels covering the floors.
You knew from the fables that the castle was erected with frightening speed, and now you can see exactly where the builders saved time. Instead of chests, chunks of the brick wall were hollowed out so as to allow the servants a place to store their few belongings.
(if: $LAST is true)[As you finish the route through all the rooms, you can't help but feel like you might have missed something in all the chaotic clutter. You push yourself to do it one more time, this time keeping an eye on the clusters of holes in the wall. It's getting dark, so you begin to sprint.
Room after room pass you, your eyes hurting as you adjust to see the new room quickly before you move onto the next one. *What was that?* You stop. *Did I see what I think I just did?*
You trace your steps to the previous room. You don't see anything in the walls. You hesitate, but *just* to be sure, you go to the room before this one. There, you see a glint in the walls. In disbelief, you reach your hand into the uneven blemish, and close your hand on a square-shaped glass bottle.
You found it.]
(else:)[You couldn't find it anywhere. It's not here.]
This is really bad.
You decide to [[wait until she's asleep before going in, to avoid having to face her]]. You search the West Wing.
It's full of beautiful metalwork: swords, helmets, shields, armor, arrows, even the bows have decorations on their handles. It reminds you of the old days, when you used to sneak out from the servants' quarters to come imitate what you saw the knights doing during their training with any sword your short, adolescent arms could reach.
The racks which hold the weapons are often used for storage, you remember. *No matter how many times I told my soldiers they'd lose their belongings, they always stored things in the hollow part of the rack during practice.*
You knock over every rack, breaking each one of them open to see if there might be some sort of hidden contraband. (if: $LAST is true)[You break around thirty weapon racks before you find your first item, a little piece of paper detailing the owner's training regiment. It's insignificant, but it's enough to tell you that there's hope. After fourty more broken racks, you hear a **clink clink** noise that didn't come from the mace you were using. In the rubble, you see the tiny glass bottle rolling along.
You found it. ] (else:)[Save for a few pieces of silver, you couldn't find anything. There's nothing here.]
This is really bad.
You decide to [[wait until she's asleep before going in, to avoid having to face her]]. You search the East Wing mess hall.
As you turn the corner, the image before you is striking. Rows and rows of tables, so long and so numerous that it fills up an entire wing of the massive castle.
At first you feel nostagia, remembering your times as an apprentice, serving all the hungry swordsmen during the meal times. But soon your nostalgia fades, and you realize that you must comb through all the broken silverware and dishes in hopes of finding a potion.
You begin your route, using your hands to push aside clutter and analyze any suspicious looking objects. There's a surprising number of things left on the tables-- swords, helmets, books, even some clothes. Who knows what might have happened at the moment they found out they were being invaded?
(if: $LAST is true)[The whole day has gone, and you couldn't come up with anything. *What if someone dropped it?*
Your desperation pushes you to investigate this immediately. You get on your hands and knees, and go underneath the tables. It's hard to see, but you feel your way around and aren't able to find anything. You lift your head, and it bangs against the bottom of the table. You move to rub your head, but it's not sore-- the table is very light.
*I'm a fool, thank goodness Pan isn't here right now.* You stand up and kick over the first row of tables. Then the second. Nothing on the floors. It's getting dark, but you push the third set over, thinking you can't leave here until EVERY BLASTED TABLE has been thoroughly checked. And then, right as you dash to the fourth row, you see a glint in the center of the room. It's small, it's a glass bottle, and there's something green in it.
You found it.]
(else:)[In the end, you make your way through the *entire* mess hall, having touched every single item on the table and seats, and yet you found nothing.]
It is not here.
This is really bad.
You decide to [[wait until she's asleep before going in, to avoid having to face her]]. The Central Foyer is a large, wide open space with a massive staircase leading to the other wings. The decor consists entirely of large statues and stone pillars.
Unlike most castles, this one was built with a singular goal in mind: to give the appearance of opulence. As such, the main floor and staircase are covered with a large rug made from animal skins.
The thickness of the rug is so luxurious, you think it'd be quite easy to lose a small potion bottle inside the matted furs. You get to work, and from dusk til dawn, you comb through the carpet with your bare fingers. The work is long and tedious, but you pass the time by escaping to your memories.
You remember the first time you were ever screamed at. Your master, a terrible and large man, had come from a feast and brought along his favorite fish-bone toothpick. He had business with the head knight from a nearby castle, and went to visit him. As it happens, the master dropped his toothpick in the carpet of the castle's main hall, and sent you to find it.
Smiling, you remember how many hours you spent in fear, searching for the toothpick you knew you'd never find, while the residents of the castle watched you with concern. In the end, the servant cook took pity on you and gave you a leftover fish bone to take home.
What a scolding that fool gave you when you tried to pass off the cook's fish bone. You laugh to yourself, remembering how that pathetic little bone snapped between his teeth when he used it.
(if: $LAST is true)[It's not here, but you still have some time before the sun sets. You look at the statues, the only thing left in the massive hall. *There's nothing a potion has to do with a statue*, you think to yourself, but you decide to examine them anyway. You remember that the fingers in the gauntlet were a great place to hide small things as a child, so you check there first. Nothing. You remove a few more pieces of armor before moving onto the next statue. You spot of glint of bright green in the chinks of the gauntlet.
*There's no way*, you say to yourself in complete disbelief. *Is it possible that a servant hid a potion in here?*
You twist off the ring finger of the next suit of armor, and small potion bottle pops out.
You found it. ]
(else:)[All you uncovered was handfuls of dead leaves, and a few rocks.]
It is not here.
This is really bad.
You decide to [[wait until she's asleep before going in, to avoid having to face her]]. You do your best to quietly open the front door.
You peer into her bedroom, and she's fast asleep.
You almost feel relief, before your situation causes you to hold your breath once more.
*Everything* hinges on tomorrow.
You [[attempt to sleep.]]It's day 4.
*Please God. Let me find the potion. Please let it be there.*
You pray in anguish all the way [[to the castle]].(set: $BAD to $BAD +1)
"Oh well EXCUSE ME for asking if I will die tomorrow or not! Did you ever think about anyone besides yourself?"
"Am I expected to wait calmly while (css: "color: red;")[you produce nothing]? How can I rely on an oaf who couldn't even take me from my father's castle without alerting the guards?!"
Your anger grows.
"Is the potion *even here*? Or did you just choose the closest--"
"**Quiet!**" you shout.
There's too much emotion, you can't get any words out. Despite wanting to let it all out, you know the best thing to do is leave.
[[You go back in.]]Where would you like to search?
[[Northern Wing]]
[[Southern Wing]]
[[Western Wing]]
[[Eastern Wing]]
[[Central Foyer]]
[[Basement]]
(set: $LAST to true)The North Wing.
From the tattered drapes, broken chandeliers, and faded wall decorations, you surmise that this must be have been the royalty's quarters.
You explore each of the empty rooms; the morning light illuminates the floating dust around the empty bedrooms. You're struck by how violently the chairs and chests must have been flung for them to have landed in such positions. Was there some sort of insurrection? Or perhaps a very motivated person was looking for something?
You examine every chest, every drawer, hoping to find something amidst the forgotten valuables, but you cannot find anything besides tarnished silver and gold.
(if: $LAST is true)[The only room not in complete disarray is that of the king's. Granted, the desks are upside down, and shelves have been taken out, but his bed seems to have been undisturbed for decades.
You tear the linens and blankets off the bed, stripping it down in a frenzy. It's probably not here, but it's the last place you can possibly check, so you decide it can't hurt. As you rip off blankets, you hear a **clink, clink** noise against the stone floor.
*There's no way,* you think to yourself. You check the floor where you heard the noise.
You found it.]
[[You sprint home]]The South Wing, the servants' quarters.
You make your way through the maze of connected rooms, each looking exactly identical. Each room is a simple rectangle made of unpainted brick, with four beds, and with the shrapnel of various broken clay and wooden vessels covering the floors.
You knew from the fables that the castle was erected with frightening speed, and now you can see exactly where the builders saved time. Instead of chests, chunks of the brick wall were hollowed out so as to allow the servants a place to store their few belongings.
(if: $LAST is true)[As you finish the route through all the rooms, you can't help but feel like you might have missed something in all the chaotic clutter. You push yourself to do it one more time, this time keeping an eye on the clusters of holes in the wall. It's getting dark, so you begin to sprint.
Room after room pass you, your eyes hurting as you adjust to see the new room quickly before you move onto the next one. *What was that?* You stop. *Did I see what I think I just did?*
You trace your steps to the previous room. You don't see anything in the walls. You hesitate, but *just* to be sure, you go to the room before this one. There, you see a glint in the walls. In disbelief, you reach your hand into the uneven blemish, and close your hand on a square-shaped glass bottle.
You found it.]
(else:)[You couldn't find it anywhere. It's not here.]
[[You sprint home]]You search the West Wing.
It's full of beautiful metalwork: swords, helmets, shields, armor, arrows, even the bows have decorations on their handles. It reminds you of the old days, when you used to sneak out from the servants' quarters to come imitate what you saw the knights doing during their training with any sword your short, adolescent arms could reach.
The racks which hold the weapons are often used for storage, you remember. *No matter how many times I told my soldiers they'd lose their belongings, they always stored things in the hollow part of the rack during practice.*
You knock over every rack, breaking each one of them open to see if there might be some sort of hidden contraband. (if: $LAST is true)[You break around thirty weapon racks before you find your first item, a little piece of paper detailing the owner's training regiment. It's insignificant, but it's enough to tell you that there's hope. After fourty more broken racks, you hear a **clink clink** noise that didn't come from the mace you were using. In the rubble, you see the tiny glass bottle rolling along.
You found it. ] (else:)[Save for a few pieces of silver, you couldn't find anything. There's nothing here.]
[[You sprint home]]You search the East Wing mess hall.
As you turn the corner, the image before you is striking. Rows and rows of tables, so long and so numerous that it fills up an entire wing of the massive castle.
At first you feel nostagia, remembering your times as an apprentice, serving all the hungry swordsmen during the meal times. But soon your nostalgia fades, and you realize that you must comb through all the broken silverware and dishes in hopes of finding a potion.
You begin your route, using your hands to push aside clutter and analyze any suspicious looking objects. There's a surprising number of things left on the tables-- swords, helmets, books, even some clothes. Who knows what might have happened at the moment they found out they were being invaded?
(if: $LAST is true)[The whole day has gone, and you couldn't come up with anything. *What if someone dropped it?*
Your desperation pushes you to investigate this immediately. You get on your hands and knees, and go underneath the tables. It's hard to see, but you feel your way around and aren't able to find anything. You lift your head, and it bangs against the bottom of the table. You move to rub your head, but it's not sore-- the table is very light.
*I'm a fool, thank goodness Pan isn't here right now.* You stand up and kick over the first row of tables. Then the second. Nothing on the floors. It's getting dark, but you push the third set over, thinking you can't leave here until EVERY BLASTED TABLE has been thoroughly checked. And then, right as you dash to the fourth row, you see a glint in the center of the room. It's small, it's a glass bottle, and there's something green in it.
You found it.]
(else:)[In the end, you make your way through the *entire* mess hall, having touched every single item on the table and seats, and yet you found nothing.]
[[You sprint home]]The Central Foyer is a large, wide open space with a massive staircase leading to the other wings. The decor consists entirely of large statues and stone pillars.
Unlike most castles, this one was built with a singular goal in mind: to give the appearance of opulence. As such, the main floor and staircase are covered with a large rug made from animal skins.
The thickness of the rug is so luxurious, you think it'd be quite easy to lose a small potion bottle inside the matted furs. You get to work, and from dusk til dawn, you comb through the carpet with your bare fingers. The work is long and tedious, but you pass the time by escaping to your memories.
You remember the first time you were ever screamed at. Your master, a terrible and large man, had come from a feast and brought along his favorite fish-bone toothpick. He had business with the head knight from a nearby castle, and went to visit him. As it happens, the master dropped his toothpick in the carpet of the castle's main hall, and sent you to find it.
Smiling, you remember how many hours you spent in fear, searching for the toothpick you knew you'd never find, while the residents of the castle watched you with concern. In the end, the servant cook took pity on you and gave you a leftover fish bone to take home.
What a scolding that fool gave you when you tried to pass off the cook's fish bone. You laugh to yourself, remembering how that pathetic little bone snapped between his teeth when he used it.
(if: $LAST is true)[It's not here, but you still have some time before the sun sets. You look at the statues, the only thing left in the massive hall. *There's nothing a potion has to do with a statue*, you think to yourself, but you decide to examine them anyway. You remember that the fingers in the gauntlet were a great place to hide small things as a child, so you check there first. Nothing. You remove a few more pieces of armor before moving onto the next statue. You spot of glint of bright green in the chinks of the gauntlet.
*There's no way*, you say to yourself in complete disbelief. *Is it possible that a servant hid a potion in here?*
You twist off the ring finger of the next suit of armor, and small potion bottle pops out.
You found it. ]
(else:)[All you uncovered was handfuls of dead leaves, and a few rocks.]
[[You sprint home]](if: $GOOD > 2) [
As you run home, tears fill your eyes.
You've felt like each day would be her last, that it would be your last.
You laugh as you imagine her drinking it, seeing the color restore to her face.
*Our wedding WILL happen! I no longer have to hide from thoughts of the future! We'll face them together!*
[[You kick the door open.]]
]
(elseif: $BAD > 2)[
As you run home, your expect your poor coutenance to lift, for your body to free of the weight you've been feeling.
Instead, your legs feel like lead.
*She's going to be okay now, I've succeeded! Is that not cause for joy? But, she'll be stuck with me. A man who allowed his fear to overcome him, who couldn't control himself when his wife most depended on him.*
*How quickly did I turn against her? How little time it took before I snapped under pressure!
**Wretched man that I am, what good will it do her if she's alive?**
By the time you reach the house, your momentum is all gone. [[You open the door, feeling so heavy]], leaning so hard on the doorknob you think you'll break it off the door.
]
(else:)[
You sprint home.
Your boots feel like they may fall of your feet at any moment, but you run even harder.
Anxiety, the coal that had kept your heart burning for what felt like a lifetime, continues to burn. You thought you might feel release, but the fire keeps burning, your mind keeps racing.
*I can't relax just yet, I have to get this back to her.*
You reach the house, hurriedly fling the door open, and [[dash inside the house]].]Her figure is frail, her skin white, and her lips chapped.
"Pan!! I've got it!" you cry.
Her eyes shoot open, but she makes no other motion. She is unable to.
You leap into the bed she hasn't left in 4 days, support her head with your hand, and feed her the potion with a spoon.
You're so focused on preventing a *single* drop of the clear-green liquid from missing her mouth, you don't immediately notice the look of gratitude in her eyes.
When you finish, she smiles weakly and quietly lets out a familiar phrase. "Brave Knight of Reannai, you.. have done well. *So* well."
You let out a boyish laugh in between your tears, that old phrase that she used to say to tease you in front of your fellow knights. To them, it was a routine phrase. But to you and Pandora, it always meant so much more.
You embrace her. Your wife.
The end.You open the door and you make your way to her bedroom.
You stop at the entrance, and look at the potion in your hand.
*Will she forgive me? Should she forgive me?*
You heart beats out of your chest in shame, in fear of facing her. But it's not about you anymore, your ***wife*** needs this potion no matter *what* you feel.
You open the door, "Darling, I've got the potion!" you exclaim, but your yelling feels forced.
Her face remains motionless, save for the tiniest twitch of her mouth.
You open the bottle and hand it to her. After a few seconds too long, shakily, she wraps her fingers around the bottle and begins to drink it.
The moment the bottle is at her lips, *THUD*, you drop to your knees on the floor, the heaviness of your guilt having finally overtaken you.
"Pandora, I--"
"It's okay."
"No,*please* I have to say this-- I was being selfish, I prioritized my own emotions over your well-being. I was weak, and I--"
"I understand, beloved, it's okay," she said softly. She takes another slow sip of the clear-green liquid.
"We both acted poorly under the stress, and it's my fault to begin with. I never should have stopped trusting you.
You sit in stunned silence. Had she always been so understanding? Were you always too busy to notice?
You want to hug her, for it all to be over, but your heart is still weighed down by [[a final remaining question]].
(set: $BAD = $BAD + 1)
(css: "color: red;")["Rigg, you know that kind of talk bothers me. It was a simple question, no need to be cold." ]
You feel guilty, but you didn't really think about what you said, it was just a gut reaction to an irritating question.
...
After a well-deserved break (which you mostly spent feeling guilty after that poor response), you focus your attention on her for the first time since entering the house.
(display: "signpost 2")You're exhausted, but you don't feel it.
You want to go back, but you know it'll be darker if you head back now.
She's probably right, there probably is enough time to rest.
You look at her on the bed, she's clearly weary from the day's journey. You can tell she was straining herself just to talk to you, and is currently trying to hide the deep, wheezing breaths she must take to recover from it.
It's probably best if you stay back and check on her.
[[Spend the night with her.]]
[[Go back and search again.]](set: $GOOD = $GOOD + 1)
(css: "color: palegreen;")[You decide to spend time with her.]
You feel better knowing that she doesn't have to be alone in what must be the hardest circumstance she's ever faced.
The hours tick by as you make idle conversation.
[["How are you feeling?"]] you ask.
[["Did you miss me?"]]you ask. (set: $DET = $DET + 1)
(css: "color: mediumturquoise;") [Oh no darling, I didn't mean it like that! Really, you don't have to go back, you've spent *all* day searching. Why don't you just rest for now?]
"... I would love to," you say hesitantly.
You only rest for a short while.
With your legs still painfully throbbing from the day's events, you stand up and turn your attention to her.
(display: "signpost 2")(set: $BAD = $BAD + 2)
(css: "color: darkred;")["Well, forgive me for asking!] I can't help it if I feel anxious about this whole thing!"
You feel a wave of frustration smash against your heart. *If only she knew how hard I've been working, how much I hate seeing her like that, then she'd know not to ask a foolish question like that.*
...
You massage your feet while enduring the painful silence between the two of you.
*So stupid, what was the point of saying that..*,
*Oh, so now I can't enjoy my one break?*,
*Should I be saying something right now?*,
and other thoughts race across your mind, but you end up staying silent.
You focus your attention on her for the first time since entering the house.
(display: "signpost 2")There she lies, motionless in bed with her eyes open. She looks worse than before. Her face paler, the frown lines darker, her anguish more apparent.
(if: $DET > 0)[Your heart breaks for her. Seeing her busy-body spirit confined to an immobile body makes you feel like a presence is missing from the room. (css: "color: mediumturquoise;")[You feel like you wouldn't be able to spend the night without thinking about what you might have missed inside the castle.]]
(elseif:$BAD > 1)[Your heart breaks for her. Seeing her busy-body spirit confined to an immobile body makes you feel like a presence is missing from the room. (css: "color: red;")[You feel like you wouldn't be able to spend the night without thinking about what you might have missed inside the castle.]]
(elseif: $GOOD > 1)[Your heart breaks for her. Seeing her busy-body spirit confined to an immobile body makes you feel like a presence is missing from the room. (css: "color: palegreen;")[A thought crosses your mind. You think you might be able to cheer her up today, if you spent the night with her.]]
[[Choose to spend the rest of the night with her.]]
[[Go back and search the castle again.]](set: $GOOD to $GOOD + 1)
"Oh, *fantastic*!" she shortly replies, her voice shaking at an emotional pitch. "Well then! I don't even know why I was worried in the first place!"
*This is going to be tough*, you think to yourself. You take a deep breath.
"Beloved, I *know* this is impossibly difficult for you--" she scoffs, but you continue, "but I *need* you to trust in me."
"Oh so *I'm* the one whose at fault? *I'm* the one not doing enough? Well thank you *dearly* for the--"
"Pan, you know that's not what I mean! Just... please. Allow me to take care of this for you. It's going to work out. It will work out," you say firmly, hoping not to let on that these words are for yourself.
"...Rigg," she says in a lower voice, "What are you saying? It's not that I doubt you, but look at where we are! What could the likelihood be that you find it on the *very last* day? How can you *possibly* say that it'll all work out?"
...
(if: $GOOD > 2)["Because love is *stronger than death*, Pandora!"
You don't wait to see her reaction.
*Does she remember her father's words? Will she laugh?*
You steel yourself and look straight in her eyes...
"I will NOT let you die." You turn your face from her and make your way to the door. You step outside, and as you close the door, you allow yourself to glance at her.
Her face shows resolute peace. She has entirely put herself in your hands.
You close the door behind you. *Well at least there's one thing I can do right.*]
(elseif: $BAD > 2)["Because--" you begin.
*Because what? Can I really ask her to trust a failure?*
Immediately, despair fills your body and your head feels heavy on your shoulders. "I don't know darling... I don't know."
"Well maybe we'd have found it if you were taking so many 'breaks'," you hear her say.
Your body automatically turns to the door; you can't bear to stand in front of her any longer.
Your eyes are blurry with tears. You stumble on the doorstep on your way out.]
(else:)["Because there are only a few rooms left. I've almost searched everything, there's only a few rooms left! I'm telling you, darling, there really is hope."
You don't wait for her to reply.
"Don't wait up for me, I'll be back late tonight," and you do your best to smile as you walk out the door.]
[[You go back in.]](set: $GOOD to $GOOD + 1)
(css: "color: palegreen;")[You decide to spend some time with her.]
You can feel a bit of distance between the two of you (if: $GOOD > 2)[(css: "color: palegreen;")[, but you've got a plan]].
You try to make conversation,
[["You feeling any different?"]]
[["So.. what did you do today?"]]
(if: $GOOD > 2)[(css: "color: palegreen;")[["Remind me, what were our wedding plans going to be?"]]]You enter the basement.
It reeks. A pungent taste fills your nose and mouth. Your inability to see, even with a torch, disorients you further. You wish more than anything that you could turn back and explore some other part of the castle, but you cannot leave any stone unturned.
You make your way around the room, using the stone walls as your guide. You find yourself at the source of the horrible odor, and you finally recognize the scent for what it is. Rotting food. *This must be their cellar.*
You spend hours emptying crates of moldy food onto the floors, and using your torch to check for anything that might have been hidden, but you find nothing.
(if: $LAST is true)[
You continue through the darkness, hoping to find some part of the storage area you haven't yet seen. You stumble for a moment, and your back lands against a wall that gives way, making a loud metallic noise. It sounds like a prison gate.
*No wonder,* you think to yourself. The basement doubled as a cellar and as a dungeon since the builders didn't have enough time to build both seperately. After feeling your way around, you find there are three prison cells. Since each cell is so small, your torch can be of some use, and you get to work on examining each of the prisons.
You notice a stray shadow cast on the wall, despite the wall seeming to be a relatively even surface. You run your fingers around the grooves of the bricks, and find a jagged crack in the wall.
You pry at it with your fingers, and inside lies the only antidote to Reannai's famous "Four-Fingered Leech."
You got it.]
It is not here.
You decide to [[go home]] and check on her. You enter the basement.
It reeks. A pungent taste fills your nose and mouth. Your inability to see, even with a torch, disorients you further. You wish more than anything that you could turn back and explore some other part of the castle, but you cannot leave any stone unturned.
You make your way around the room, using the stone walls as your guide. You find yourself at the source of the horrible odor, and you finally recognize the scent for what it is. Rotting food. *This must be their cellar.*
You spend hours emptying crates of moldy food onto the floors, and using your torch to check for anything that might have been hidden, but you find nothing.
(if: $LAST is true)[
You continue through the darkness, hoping to find some part of the storage area you haven't yet seen. You stumble for a moment, and your back lands against a wall that gives way, making a loud metallic noise. It sounds like a prison gate.
*No wonder,* you think to yourself. The basement doubled as a cellar and as a dungeon since the builders didn't have enough time to build both seperately. After feeling your way around, you find there are three prison cells. Since each cell is so small, your torch can be of some use, and you get to work on examining each of the prisons.
You notice a stray shadow cast on the wall, despite the wall seeming to be a relatively even surface. You run your fingers around the grooves of the bricks, and find a jagged crack in the wall.
You pry at it with your fingers, and inside lies the only antidote to Reannai's famous "Four-Fingered Leech."
You got it.]
It is not here.
You decide to [[go back home]] and check on her. You enter the basement.
It reeks. A pungent taste fills your nose and mouth. Your inability to see, even with a torch, disorients you further. You wish more than anything that you could turn back and explore some other part of the castle, but you cannot leave any stone unturned.
You make your way around the room, using the stone walls as your guide. You find yourself at the source of the horrible odor, and you finally recognize the scent for what it is. Rotting food. *This must be their cellar.*
You spend hours emptying crates of moldy food onto the floors, and using your torch to check for anything that might have been hidden, but you find nothing.
(if: $LAST is true)[
You continue through the darkness, hoping to find some part of the storage area you haven't yet seen. You stumble for a moment, and your back lands against a wall that gives way, making a loud metallic noise. It sounds like a prison gate.
*No wonder,* you think to yourself. The basement doubled as a cellar and as a dungeon since the builders didn't have enough time to build both seperately. After feeling your way around, you find there are three prison cells. Since each cell is so small, your torch can be of some use, and you get to work on examining each of the prisons.
You notice a stray shadow cast on the wall, despite the wall seeming to be a relatively even surface. You run your fingers around the grooves of the bricks, and find a jagged crack in the wall.
You pry at it with your fingers, and inside lies the only antidote to Reannai's famous "Four-Fingered Leech."
You got it.]
It is not here.
This is bad.
You decide to [[go back to the house]]. You enter the basement.
It reeks. A pungent taste fills your nose and mouth. Your inability to see, even with a torch, disorients you further. You wish more than anything that you could turn back and explore some other part of the castle, but you cannot leave any stone unturned.
You make your way around the room, using the stone walls as your guide. You find yourself at the source of the horrible odor, and you finally recognize the scent for what it is. Rotting food. *This must be their cellar.*
You spend hours emptying crates of moldy food onto the floors, and using your torch to check for anything that might have been hidden, but you find nothing.
(if: $LAST is true)[
You continue through the darkness, hoping to find some part of the storage area you haven't yet seen. You stumble for a moment, and your back lands against a wall that gives way, making a loud metallic noise. It sounds like a prison gate.
*No wonder,* you think to yourself. The basement doubled as a cellar and as a dungeon since the builders didn't have enough time to build both seperately. After feeling your way around, you find there are three prison cells. Since each cell is so small, your torch can be of some use, and you get to work on examining each of the prisons.
You notice a stray shadow cast on the wall, despite the wall seeming to be a relatively even surface. You run your fingers around the grooves of the bricks, and find a jagged crack in the wall.
You pry at it with your fingers, and inside lies the only antidote to Reannai's famous "Four-Fingered Leech."
You got it.]
It is not here.
This is really bad.
You decide to [[wait until she's asleep before going in, to avoid having to face her]]. You enter the basement.
It reeks. A pungent taste fills your nose and mouth. Your inability to see, even with a torch, disorients you further. You wish more than anything that you could turn back and explore some other part of the castle, but you cannot leave any stone unturned.
You make your way around the room, using the stone walls as your guide. You find yourself at the source of the horrible odor, and you finally recognize the scent for what it is. Rotting food. *This must be their cellar.*
You spend hours emptying crates of moldy food onto the floors, and using your torch to check for anything that might have been hidden, but you find nothing.
(if: $LAST is true)[
You continue through the darkness, hoping to find some part of the storage area you haven't yet seen. You stumble for a moment, and your back lands against a wall that gives way, making a loud metallic noise. It sounds like a prison gate.
*No wonder,* you think to yourself. The basement doubled as a cellar and as a dungeon since the builders didn't have enough time to build both seperately. After feeling your way around, you find there are three prison cells. Since each cell is so small, your torch can be of some use, and you get to work on examining each of the prisons.
You notice a stray shadow cast on the wall, despite the wall seeming to be a relatively even surface. You run your fingers around the grooves of the bricks, and find a jagged crack in the wall.
You pry at it with your fingers, and inside lies the only antidote to Reannai's famous "Four-Fingered Leech."
You got it.]
[[You sprint home]]You burst into the room, coming to a halt at the side of her bed.
You twist the cork open with shaking fingers, put one hand behind her head and hurriedly say in a hushed voice, "Pan, *Pan*, I've got it, I've got it! Quickly darling, drink the potion."
You carefully pour it into her mouth.
You watch the bottle, making sure the elevation of the bottle is high enough that she doesn't have to crane her head uncomfortably.
You feel her eyes on you, but you can't afford to take your eyes off the bottle and risk dropping some of it.
...
You let a few moments pass, but the worrying fire in your heart burns brightly.
"How do you feel, Pan? Do you feel any better? Can you spea--"
She wraps her arms around you and weakly buries her head in your chest. *Does the potion really work that qui--*
"*Rigg*! Oh *Rigg*!" she cries. You hold her tightly, moving closer to her so she doesn't have to strain herself. "Don't strain yourself too much, beloved," you say quietly.
She lifts up her head and looks at you. You notice that she notices your face, still rigid with thought. She puts one hand on your cheek and says, "Rigg! You've done it. It's over!"
Her eyes are so full of gratitude, you're almost at a lost for words. You've never seen her exude so much emotion before.
"Look at you," she says through tears, while stroking your face. "My dependable husband, my knight on his mission. My unwavering hero."
Her words glow in your mind. *Dependable? Me?*
As a drop of dye in water, relief begins to permeate your soul. The fire dies down.
You smile to yourself. *I suppose I was pretty selfless*, you happily think to yourself, though you dare not say it out loud, lest you prematurely end her compliments.
She hugs you again. "I acted so poorly under stress. I never should have stopped trusting you, Rigg."
*What's going on,* you think to yourself. Such emotional vulnerability, such humility! Had she always been so understanding? Were you always too busy to notice?
As if reading your mind, her gentle words caress your ears. "Put your mind at ease, darling. Just hold me for now."
And you do.
The end.(set: $BAD = $BAD + 1)
(css: "color: red;")[She replies understandingly.]
"Well, we've already made ourselves at home here, and we've already spent a whole day. Even if we started for Aressa Sessamo, which mostly likely won't have the antidote, we would only reach after three days. Logically, this is our best option."
*Our only option*, you think, knowing she was thinking the same thing.
"Don't be frustrated, darling, it's only the first day. We have plenty of time, and you have plenty of rooms to check," she says with a little smile. "It's going to work out, I am *certain*."
Her forced smile remains in your mind; *She's trying reassure me, and yet I should be the one reassuring her.*
(display: "signpost 1")(set: $GOOD = $GOOD + 1)
(css: "color: palegreen;")[She tentatively agrees.] "Yes, of course. I'm sure you'll find it soon. If they left their books and cutlery behind, there's no doubt they left a few potions lying around."
"Thanks for all your hard work, darling."
You chuckle, "Well, you can thank me when I find it."
Finally, you feel the knot in your stomach begin to subside. Ever since yesterday, when you saw that arrow clip her side, a darkened hand had held a firm grip on your heart. Finally, it has begun to ease its grip.
"Thank you, Pan. You make all that hard work worth it."
(display: "signpost 1")
"Pandora... Am I really the man your father trusted? Did he.. did he truly know what he was doing?"
"How could he trust someone like me?!"
Your words hang in the air as she chooses her own.
"Rigg, are you weak?"
"...Yes."
"Do you know how to become stronger?"
*Stronger? I've spent my life teaching swordsmen to fight their fears... What good did that do me?*
"Yes, of course," you reply, entirely unable to follow her thought process.
"And will you do it? Will you become stronger?"
"Darling, *of course*!! I will never let this happen again!"
"Then my father was correct," she says. "Make no mistake, brave Knight of Reannai, you have done well."
You lift your head, feeling able to make eye contact with her. "Though you could have done a bit better."
You laugh, and hug her tightly.
You feel the weight of your anguish, your sin, your fear, release. All is forgiven.
"What did I do to deserve you?" you say softly.
"I wonder the same thing," she replies and the two of you laugh while you weep.
The end.
↶↷
You and your fiance are on horseback.
You are heading to an abandoned castle.
It is said that you stole her from her father's kingdom.
During your escape, she was wounded by a poisonous arrow. It's a special kind of poison.
You hope to find its antidote at this abandoned castle.
She has 4 days to live.
You feel shame and anger that you let her get hurt on your account. It pains you to watch her suffer quietly. You stomach it for now; you know this pain will make you search harder.
You find a small abandoned house near the castle.