Between an Old Man's Corpse and a Snake.

Zayn opened his eyes. Just a moment ago, he and Mr. Nahil had been getting ready to go back. He tried to look around, but his vision was blurry. The only thing he could make out was the furniture in a room, maybe? 'Where am I?' He thought.

He tried to take a step forward, but that step didn't come. What came was a terrible pain in his foot, which caused him to fall to the ground. "Damn," Zayn muttered as he clenched his jaw from the pain.

He closed his eyes and sighed in relief; his vision finally started to clear. The first thing that caught Zayn's attention was a small office, a table with a candle lamp on it and some scattered papers, and a chair in front of the desk. Despite the modest size of the office, it was nothing but luxurious; the feet of the table were surrounded by beautiful embroidery, as if they were threads extending from the bottom of the table feet and rising to the table itself, and the feet of the chair had the same embroidery. Zayn couldn't see what was on the table because he was stretched out on the floor due to the pain in his leg.

He took a look down, his leg was hurting 'where did all this come from… oh damn,' but there was also something on his mind 'where is my sword?' The sword wasn't where it belonged this time, not in his hand nor on his waist.

Zayn looked around the room again. Most of the room's decorations were red, including the carpets and curtains. There was also a chair in the corner overlooking the window, which combined luxury and modesty in the room's decorations.

'Damn, I have to get out now.' His first thought after putting the pieces together, he was now inside the wizard's house.

"Mr. Nahil, where are you?" He spoke in a low voice, not daring to make a scene. Unfortunately, as Zayn expected, there was no response from Mr. Nahil.

He looked behind him as he lay on the floor. Directly behind him was the edge of a wooden bed. The wood was embroidered with the same embroidery as the chair and table.

Zayn got up and sat on the bed without changing his direction. 'Okay, keep it logical Zayn, your leg is broken, Mr. Nahil doesn't seem to be around, plus it looks like you're in a wizard's bedroom now, and it looks like the rest of the group hasn't arrived yet... well, I guess I should wait a bit until they arrive,' He thought as he turned his face towards the bed he was sitting on, but what he saw on the bed made him fall to the ground away from the bed again.

"Damn, what is this now?" He muttered, not prepared for what he had just seen.

He tried to stand up on his good feet, every bone in his body starting to tremble. After he stood up, he looked back at the bed, hoping he had been imagining things. Unfortunately, there was nothing wrong with his vision.

On the bed, lay the body of a human, he was lying neatly on the bed, there was no cover on his body, only his black clothes with white edges, the only thing that Zayn could distinguish by that the body was a corpse and not a sleeping person were the blue eyes, as they were fully open contemplating the ceiling from above. The corpse was that of an old man, his long white hair stretched out on that pillow, his arms were clasped together on his chest holding a stick, the stick, unlike the old man's appearance, looked ordinary, just a wooden stick.

The body was just like the room Zayn was in, both luxurious and humble at the same time. But Zayn didn't think about the poetic nature of it; there were other things to occupy his mind. He turned his face away from the body, as it was the last thing he wanted to contemplate right now. The window caught his attention. 'Yes, the group,' He thought as he started to limp towards the window.

The curtains on the window were thick, but the light was still leaking through the window. Zayn reached towards the window and started moving the curtains with his hand, pulling them to lean on them while looking out the window.

In front of Zayn, and behind the window, the trees below were shedding their yellow leaves to the ground. The sun was bright and the soil was dry. What Zayn had in mind was not the group he had hoped to see from the window. 'Where's the snow?' was the first thing that came to his mind.

He stepped back a little and looked around the room again, pulling at the curtains with his hand. All his hopes of waiting for the group had evaporated. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

Zayn opened his eyes again, the room was the same, but this time Zayn wasn't afraid, he wasn't nervous, the breath he just took was a reminder… Yes, to remind him of his goal in this mission, there was nothing that could break his noble goal that easily, right? no, his goal was easy; he could always take a shortcut for it.

So he left the curtains he was clinging to and started limping again around the edges of the room, this time his goal was towards the office. He finally reached the office and threw himself on the wooden chair.

Zayn began to examine the papers scattered on the desk. There were a lot of them. He grabbed one of the papers and held it up to his face. 'What language is this?' He thought. He had never seen writing in that language before. Maybe Zayn wasn't the most experienced with the continent's languages, so he didn't think much of it and put the paper back on the table. 

But what caught his attention, apart from the black book in front of him, were the papers with drawings on them. The drawings were really strange. There was a drawing of a lizard or something similar to a lizard with two small wings. The drawing looked very similar to the drawings of dragons in folklore. There was a drawing of a giant human-like creature with three heads. And there was a drawing of a creature that looked like a chicken? Well, it was between a chicken and a lizard and seemed to be quite large.

All these images were strange, he had never heard of creatures like this before, Zayn looked towards the corpse and muttered in a voice he could barely hear himself, "You had a talent for drawing," but quickly turned his head away from the corpse, he was still not comfortable looking at it, let alone talking to it.

'Now for the grand prize.' Zayn walked over to the only book on the table. The binding looked like it was made of leather and was painted entirely black. He grabbed the book and opened it, but once again, the writing was in the same language. He hadn't intended to take a souvenir with him, as he hadn't intended to return yet, even if he could, but his greed had defeated him this time.

'What now?... Oh yes, I need to find that chatterbox, Nahil' he thought.

Zayn stood up again, limping, but this time it wasn't easy, not because of the terrifying pain in his leg, no, but because he was walking towards a neighbor in the apartment.

Zayn limped towards the corpse and began to examine it. 'What are you smiling about, old man?' He thought as he looked at the corpse's face. It was strange that the corners of his mouth were slightly raised. Maybe Zayn was right and the corpse was smiling, but that didn't matter to Zayn now. What mattered to him was that stick.

Zayn reached for the stick and pulled it gently, without resistance. He gripped it tightly and tried to lean against it. A slight feeling of stability crept into his body. He breathed slowly, as if his partial straightening had restored some of his balance. 'Better this way...' he thought, then turned his eyes toward the wooden door.

His steps became steadier as he walked with the cane towards the door. He grabbed the doorknob, but before opening it, he looked back at the body and thought 'Unfortunately, that would be impossible.' As it would not make sense for the body to be the wizard, some information about the wizard was that he was in the prime of his youth, while the body was that of an old man.

He opened the door, and luckily for him, he hadn't met the wizard yet. In front of him was just a corridor lined with carpets. There was only one door in front of him at the end of the corridor. On the right was a solid wall covered with decorative drawings, while on the left was a wooden railing overlooking the bottom of the house.

He walked towards the fence and looked down. The distance to the lower floor was a bit far, as it seemed that he was on the upper floor of the palace.

There were only two doors on the floor where Zayn was, one was for the room he had left, and the other was at the end of the corridor next to the stairs for going down.

Zayn continued walking on his wooden stick; he had now reached the other door to go down the stairs.

Knock*

Knock*

Knock*

There was a faint, barely audible knocking sound as Zayn reached the second door. Zayn hadn't intended to open every door in the house, but there was Mr. Nahil, still missing.

He decided to whisper towards the door, "Mr. Nahil, is that you?"

Knock*

There was no real response; the only thing Zayn heard was a knock. He decided to whisper again, but this time a little louder, "Mr. Nahil, it's me, Zayn. Are you in there?"

Knock*

This time, the voice was loud, and Zayn took two steps back. 'No, I won't risk it... But do I have anything else?'

He finally decided to open the door, and the sound of the door handle was rusty. The entire room was dark with no light. The darkness seemed to be a fragmented part of the room; the degree of darkness was high even after opening the door. "Mr. Nahil?" This time, there was no response or knocking sound, but he felt that something was moving in the darkness.

'I have to get out of here.' He started to close the door, but at that moment, every nerve in his body stopped moving. He could see a shadow in the darkness. Zayn wasn't looking at the darkness, no, the darkness itself was moving as if it was looking at him. Zayn could make out black figures moving.

Zayn took a quick breath, he left the door and started running down the stairs next to him, he felt a pain in his leg that was killing him, but this time he didn't care, after a moment he heard the sound of the door exploding behind him. 'Fuck... Fuck.' he took a look back quickly as he went down the stairs, from behind him it seemed that the entire darkness of the room left, it was a very black creature of enormous size, but getting out of the door wasn't difficult because of its shape. It was a giant snake in every sense of the word.

As he was trying to run quickly down the stairs, he felt a gust of wind from his side, and a second later, a huge explosion rang out in front of him, seemingly destroying a large part of the palace. The fog caused by the explosion was thick, but even with the extent of the destruction, the body of the giant snake that was now in front of him was clear.

Zayn glanced to his right, and a door stood there. He was now one floor below. Without hesitation, he pushed it open and stepped inside. Once through, he shut the door behind him, set the stick aside, and collapsed against the door. His breathing was ragged, vision began to blur. From beyond the door, the sound of shattering echoed through the halls. He tried to steady himself with a deep breath, to remind himself of something, anything, but this time, nothing changed.

'Damn... damn, what the hell is going on!' Zayn thought as he started to close his eyes.

"Don't worry, he won't be able to get in." A voice spoke from in front of Zayn. He was able to make out the voice.

Zayn's vision was still blurry from exhaustion, but he was able to make out that figure.

"Mr. Nahil," Zayn took a breath and continued, "We have to escape... We have to escape now... Outside..." But he did not finish his words, as he noticed that there was something strange in the form of a friend. It was still the same, but there was something that made him remember the three spellcasters of the group.

"As I said, Zayn, that spirit won't be able to enter through that door. Do you want me to repeat that sentence to you? It would be disrespectful to do that to someone older than you, Zayn," Mr. Nahil said.

Zain began to relax, letting his breath steady as his vision gradually cleared. Standing before him was his friend Mr. Nahil, that familiar, silly smile still playing on his lips. With an air of confidence, Mr. Nahil stood tall, both hands clasped behind his back.

Zayn finally spoke, "What the hell is going on?"

Mr. Nahil's expression changed to one of hesitation as he answered, "Well, that's a general question... where do I start?... oh, I found it." That silly smile returned to his face as he answered, "Let's start by saying that we died."