Every time I travel to another city, I have this old habit of reading a guide book to better understand that place. Fortellia, this name appears next on the map. A place filled with memories, makes me eager to return to that capital of culture and creativity.

From its magnificent gates, the city rises uphill, lots of shops stand by the entrance, surrounding the white stairs leading to the main square. People of all ages gather around the fountain of the imperial gods surrounded by music of all kinds, the most beautiful paintings and ceramics one can’t even imagine.

Dancing through the smell from the sea, everybody come together at the end of the day to share an amazing meal. At the end, feeling those summer trip vibes, you sit next to an old tree contemplating the big castle on top of the hill with the blue and yellow flag dancing with the calm breeze.

I fall down as soon as I reach the gates, a deep sadness fills me up to the core. The stone made houses are destroyed, all the shops seem to be looted and not even the fountain is running anymore, giving a depressive look to the city. Nature had begun to take over the city, surrounding it on deafening silence only broken by the sound of the waves crashing into the wall. I pass the open gates, I leaving my stuff on a hidden corner by the right side in order to explore. Hours fly by as I search every single corner of this place. The sun is setting. Hopeless, I walk towards the only place good enough to spend the night, the big stone made castle where not even the flag remains.

The front door is locked. Surrounding the castle I find a small wooden door, most likely from where the maids used to enter and bring in the supplies. I enter, closing the door behind me and lighting a candle. Apart from a table with some candles and matches, there are only three doors, leading in front and to both sides.

I immediately try the middle one but it is locked. I choose the right one next, revealing a long pitch black corridor. I try the left one next. The door is unlocked but it sure is heavy. Pretty much like something is blocking it from the other side.

 It takes all my strength but finally manage to fully open the door. I take a step back, standing in the center of the room with both left and right doors leading to pitch black corridors.  “Where do I go now?”

 Gathering all my courage, I choose the right door. BOOM! The door slams shut behind me. I continue walking, step by step on that dark corridor, only following the small flame from the candle. For ages nothing happens.  Suddenly, as if it spawned, a door appears in front of me. “Turn back” is written on top of it.

I’m not going through that corridor again so I rush through the door. What I see makes me freeze! The sound of a gentle turned to a heavy summer shower making me concerned about my stuff.

A strange music fills the room but nobody is inside. This one is much bigger room than the previous. A piano on top of a red carpet, some bookshelves and a circular wooden tea table with three chairs surrounded by paintings of old Fortellia.

However, a strange object catches my attention, a big old banner, probably 5 meters long and not in its best condition is on the ground next to the table. I can’t stand not opening it.

“Gather all, to the 50^th anniversary of the unification of the great empire.”

A big festival!  Eager to know more I spread the rest when a note falls off.

“In two moons this city will welcome the 50^th anniversary, thousands are expected to come, be ready.”

“They sure were expecting a big deal. I should move on” – I guess, taking the first step into…

The kitchen!

Something immediately looks odd here. As if still preparing for a big event, pans and pots are everywhere, dished distributed and ready to serve. If not for the strong smell of rotten food and ashes, anyone would tell the party was about to begin.

“Did the big festival not go as planned?” “What happened that made the maid stop cooking?”

As I walk around, I feel an unexplained uneasiness, the heavy atmosphere once so lively; seem to charge me from every step I take breaking this silence. I can’t shake off the feeling that something might appear in front of me at any moment, making me react to every little sound.

On the counter, I find a corkboard. I blow the dust off, revealing several notes to the maids. The dishes to cook, the order around the table, the uniforms, etc. I analyze one by one until this catches my attention.  Contrary to the all the others, standing right in the middle, this one was written on a pink piece of paper. “The presents are to be stored in the basement, leave an indication of the giver in every one.” – It says.

“Hmm, so the presents are to say who gave it… perhaps to properly thank or maybe to blame if something went wrong…” – I take it off to take a better look. I notice letters on the other side, enigmatically it states. “ Mary, bring me the book.”

“What could this book be?”

The hours sure are getting into me as I take my time exploring each division to the fullest. My body is charging, I’m hungry and tired and the increasing rain only adds to my worries. I search the counter and the food pantry for food but nothing good catches my eye.

Making my way out, three doors stand in front of me. Terrified of another long and claustrophobic corridor I open them all. The first leads to the dining room, the second upstairs and the final one seems stuck.

Confused and a little panicked, I stumble on a pot and contemplate… I either hit my head pretty hard or the door leading upstairs just turned into a rock solid wall. The dining room is now completely closed, leaving me with the room previously closed, now wide open and spreading a very welcoming smell of tea. With no choice left I leave that dark, creepy kitchen behind.

In total opposition to the kitchen, the room appears to be where the emperor received his guests. With big windows allowing the moonlight inside, a wooden secretary surrounded by the emperor’s chair and two for guests, a grey carpet specially made for the room and portraits of every emperor giving the invited the feeling of being observed by an entire council.

 I take a good look around, searching anything that could reveal what happened. Almost too perfect! No trace of dirt, not a single lost piece of paper, nothing significant, almost like it had been closed apart from the world this entire time.

 Feeling a little frustration, I try to proceed to the next room, but to add up, the door is firmly locked. I can see it the stairs leading downwards but no matter how hard I try, it won't let it go my way

“Back to the kitchen…”

Locked!

I panic; the door I just passed trough is now completely locked, leaving me stuck here for eternity! I try the windows but they won’t open or break, not even hitting the floor as hard as I can produce any result.

Hopeless!

My mind starts spinning; the smell of tea involves me. The people in the portraits come to life, moving, speaking to each other, I’m hallucinating! On my dizziness, I trip on my own, falling flat on the carpet. Quick sand!

It’s pulling me; I struggle to break free clinging to a portrait to get on the emperor’s chair.

Tick, Tick, Tick, Tick, Tack

That noise brings me back to my senses. “A vault? “

I try another one, but the noise didn’t trigger. There are seven portraits. Appearing a man on the throne looking to the right side with a powerful look. I take them all out searching for a possible machine behind them. I feel confused; the plain wall leaves me with me with more questions than answers

“Could it be the order?”

I try all types of conjugations from chronological order, name, height, weight (at least according to the picture). The results were incoherent; putting the same picture on the same place twice wouldn’t exactly lead to the same result so trial and error was not an option.

“It definitely has as order. Most likely with input timing…”

I sit on the emperor’s chair looking outside lost in my thoughts. The rain shows no signs of stopping and the beautiful moon shines bright in the night sky.

An unusual idea pops up in my head. I take a picture from the ground and face it to the moonlight. It worked, strangely the counter light makes a small message show on top of the frame.

“Lance IV. Never trust the North lords!”

 “Sir Lance history tells the North people were his best allies during the 4th Sangoa war. They ended up secretly betraying him and taking over the land.”

“Jonathan II. The cold sea witch, never again shall she be seen in Fortellia”

“The witch known for her powers connecting to the sea, she’s said to curse people by reading a strange book her death is attributed to Sir Jonathan”

All the other pictures are the same, secretly showing the emperors’ fears and insecurities, contradicting the image of power on the portrait.

“Both good and bad feelings are your tools to becoming a better human being” – my father used to say. The order must be the treat this people represent…

I try several orders in vain. I align the pictures on the wall, taking away the ones that no longer represent a threat to the world. Until remaining the only ones possibly alive. The convection of the North lords and the cold sea witch. I put Sir. Lance IV and Sir. Jonathan II side by side and the noise returns echoing through the entire room, revealing a concealed compartment on the table. I take a look inside, to the old treasures and the blade hidden for so long. Despite the treasure, all I care are three pieces of paper. 

“The book we collected cannot be opened. Not even by the strength of the blade. It spreads a strong magical force with only the strongest of us being able to maintain our senses.”

“The witch is dead and her house burned! Next month, an army 30’000 strong will take down the North. Long live to the emperor, long live to Fortellia, our land!”

To protect the land, the emperor had to dirty his hands. I guess peace was only possible at a certain price. I close the table to find a key, glued to the top. Perhaps I didn’t notice from the beginning as the strong smell of tea still makes me a little dizzy.

I lose no time; this mystery fills my curiosity back to childhood when I read all those book of great adventurers. This is a feeling I missed for a long time I keep thinking as I make my way downstairs.

I reach a long corridor with doors spreading to both sides all the way to the end. Two names per door indicate their occupants.

 "The maids rooms”  - I guess.

Every room is open; a small desk with a chair, a bucket and two beds is all that can be found inside. All perfectly tidied up and cleaned.

I slowly explore each room, apart from personal belongings and notes between the maids notes nothing catches my attention until the seventh room on the left side.

“Selene, Mary” – are the names on the door

I open the door. Mary is the name on the book notes so my curiosity strikes. Disappointment is all I feel when I state that the room is just like all the others. I search everywhere, below the table, beads the chair and below the beds but nothing.

“Sorry Ladies. Don’t wanna mess with your stuff but…” I open the beds, taking it all off, throwing it to the ground, a wooden sounds fall off.

A music box, hidden inside the pillow. I spin the hand crack. It opens! A woman on a pink dress dances to the sound of sleeping music beautifully returning inside as the music ends. I sign! “Once I was a child my mother gave me one of these… but I… sorry!”

 I throw it hard to the ground breaking it in pieces. Two pieces of paper and a photo come out.

A beautiful maid, the Queen, and their daughters playing by the fountain. I let a tear slip as I beg all gods for forgiveness.

“Mary, bring me the book” - the first note says. Exactly like the note in the kitchen, even written on the same type of pink paper. “Where could that book be?” Who wrote this? Why ask several times?” Are all questions I cannot answer.

“Big Arts tournament”

“To you who consider yourself an artist, you shall bring the best of your craft so for the winner the position of official artist of the empire shall be granted.”

A tournament to discover the best of the best. Any kind of arts allowed. Well that must have been quite the teaser for the big festival.

I search the other bed, only finding a piece of paper from Selene to Mary, begging to abort this idea, worried about who might participate. With an intrigued face I leave the room, searching every corner along the way, I reach another set of downwards stairs. I must be deep underground as the coldness is getting into me. The only sound breaking that dead silence is the fire, burning on my candle but even that is not enough to warm me.

The stairs lead to a huge room, standing right below the castle, I finally made to the basement. All kinds of things are stored in this massive division. From art to wooden boxes, swords, you name it. It’s an unease place with the silence being constantly threatened by the mice that took over this lonely place.

 I remember the note to keep the presents in the basement so I venture deeper inside to find them. As I get further and further inside, a small sense of fear starts building up. Strange gusts of wind blow off my candles leaving me with a single match left. It almost feels like someone or something is just running around playing pranks on me.

 A lot of time passes until I reach a wall “Is there only one way here?” I try walking back taking the exact same path. But 15 minutes later, I reach another wall. I find it impossible to walk alongside the walls due the boxes rising to the ceiling blocking my way to find the exit.

I’m stuck in a maze!