The satchel is thrown over my shoulder. Shifting through my memories I try to recall the story that I haven’t read since Mom died over a decade ago. This isn’t how it starts out. Kaeda isn’t a character I remember either. I think the story begins with the death of the king, Lavine? Luvan? They’re elves, of course their names don’t make sense, it was Luv-something, but that’s all I remember at the moment. I’ll read the book for answers when this “meeting” is over.

As I originally thought, this is not the same century, or the same world. Walking through the halls there are other elves in elegantly woven tunics and elaborate dresses imbued with sparkling stitching and silk fabric. This world is definitely a fairy tale version of knights and princesses in a land of fantasy and elves, if Mr. Shadow Teleport hasn’t proven that already.

The halls are dim and dark, depressing decor from top to bottom. Reminds me more of a vampire’s castle than an elf’s. While the castle itself is immaculate with gothic architecture, high arches and carved columns, there’s not much personality. Dark. Gloomy. Sad even.

When the stranger and I walk by a servant, they lower their head. I’m not sure if it’s for me or him, but one girl happens to catch my eye. Upon doing so, she scurries off.

Seriously, who is this Kaeda and why am I suddenly in her body? Did she possibly wake up in mine? If so, she better be going to my classes! The amount of money I pay per semester for school, she better not be skipping!

Grouchy steers us to an open walkway leading to another portion of the castle then down a hall to giant iron doors that the standing guards open to reveal a throne room. Hefty iron braziers are settled across stone columns holding up an angled ceiling. Flags adorn the hall, red as the dawn, with a crown set aflame imbued in gold and orange stitching.

There are very few others in the room in beautiful garments made of elaborate fabric and dazzling colors. Even their hair and eye colors are odd, shimmering gold, soft pink, or white as snow. Knights in polished ebony armor stand erect, daunting figures hidden in the shadows of the great hall.

Grouchy leads us both to the front of the room where a throne of fearsome stone rests atop a pedestal. Scorch marks stain the wall. Then great flames erupt from behind the throne. A wave of heat bursts through the chamber. I jump in shock, watching the flames dance. Seems I’m the only one surprised because no one else even batted an eyelash.

Great, so fire inside the castle is acceptable? No need to panic? Good to know. Guess there are no sprinklers in this universe either. I’ll keep that in mind.

Moments later, everyone bows when a man moves with thunderous steps towards the lonely throne. The brooding man that entered must be the emperor, Daithi, as Grouchy called him.

He takes the throne, one leg perched elegantly over the other. Chin set atop his fisted hand. Clothes frightening yet simple, pure black in color save for a scarlet cloak that is draped over his right arm. The crown atop his head is weaved metal, silver that glistens crimson from the flames. He is the definition of intimidation with chiseled cheeks and broad shoulders. The slight waves of his dark hair rest over thin eyebrows that are knitted together. His eyes are most prominent though, narrow slits of amber as deep as the flames continuing to roar at his back, yet somehow more vibrant. His olive skin is somehow paler than my own.

Definitely vampire vibes. I think you’re the wrong fantasy race, Sunshine. Probably should have been in Dracula or Van Helsing.

He observes the room, hesitating briefly on me. My breath catches when our eyes meet, amber light that warms me. Then he looks away, attention drawn to a knight that moves through the crowd.

“Your Majesty,” says the knight. He bows at the emperor’s steps while holding out a cylindrical golden tube with strange markings. “As promised, we’ve discovered the map to Arlador in the lands of Hangzhar across the sea, deep at the bottom of Lake Voska. It was heavily guarded by all manner of beasts.”

“And how do you know this is the map? Many times I’ve been presented with rubbish while claiming it’s genuine. Monsters are not proof,” the emperor hisses.

“This time it’s for certain, Your Majesty,” a new voice chimes in. A woman glides up next to the knight. Her purple hair is pulled into a tight bun while her eyes glisten gold. She bows. “It bears the official seal of the late King Luvon as well as Arlador’s magic. None have been able to inspect the contents, but something tells me you can.”

“You’re telling me you returned claiming to have found the map without having even looked inside?”

The woman confidently takes the container up to the emperor. The tube hovers in his hand, an ethereal golden light forms around it that then intensifies. Flames engulf the container out of thin air. The flames burn deep blue then disappear with a bright light. The tube remains untouched.

A sheet of paper falls into his open palm when he opens it. Everyone watches with bated breath, including me, although I really don’t get what’s going on. There’s a lot of fire, a dude that can teleport through shadows, glowing tubes, and a map. Seems interesting, or incredibly troubling.

“Congratulations, Lady Esla, Sir Ain, you’re not so useless after all,” says Daithi.

The room breaks out with cheers of excitement, but those cheers die down when the emperor holds up a hand. It’s silent in a second.

“There is no time to celebrate. Plans must be made immediately. Lady Esla, Lord Hagen—” Daithi’s gaze narrows on me. “And Miss Jordilyn may stay. The rest of you, leave us.”

Everyone scatters until it is only Lady Esla, Grouchy (who I now know is Hagen), Daithi, and my absolutely confused self left in the massive chamber.