through it. The door begins to close, but this time my fear of the unknown is second to my need of nourishment. “Wait, please,” I say, choking back my words, afraid to actually say them. The door pauses. I walk toward it, and it waits for me.
I cannot see anything outside of the door, but I am compelled to continue through the opening anyway. I look to my right, into the darkness, and there is nothing. I look left, and it offers the same. My body is numb with fear, but I cannot seem to control its will to find food. My body moves me forward while my mind pleads for me to turn around and run back to the warm fur next to the hearth; it is desperately trying to fight against going into the dark hallway
As I proceed down the dark corridor, torches hanging from the walls begin to ignite with my every step. The walkway appears to be endless, yet with each grumble from my belly, I am compelled to proceed. I turn to look behind me; there is nothing there, not even the torches that burned a moment ago. Complete darkness backs me. All I can navigate is the way in front of me. I follow the torches until I come to another door, an oversized, wooden double door, with black iron rings the size of wagon wheels hanging from the center. The doors are so big that it seems like I will need a team of plow horses to open them. I stand in front of the wooden barriers and watch with intense curiosity as they slowly open on their own. Finally, the enormous doors cease to move, and my eyes take in a beautiful sight.
Candles upon candles illuminate this great room. They line the entire wall that is directly in front of me. Various heights and shapes of candles sit on stones that poke out of the wall. Some have long drips of wax hanging down, almost touching the floor. Others look as though they were just lit.
To my left a hearth harnesses an army of flames. I feel the burn of the fire on my skin. I stand there a moment, closing my eyes, to take in the power of the roaring flames. The walls surrounding the fire are shiny and black, like onyx. On each side of the fireplace stand glowing amber pillars, illuminated by the raging fire. Each of these pillars runs from the chamber floor to the ceiling. I never could have imagined a fireplace being so beautiful.
An iron chandelier the size of a horse carriage hangs from thick black chains above the center of a long table. Its design is intricate and looks as though it took many years to craft. There is no wall to my right; it is completely open to the night sky, where the big, round, blue moon imposes its radiant presence on the chamber. I gaze at the moon; it seems close enough for me to touch were I to lean out of the opening. It is so intrusive that I believe, for a moment, that if I jump from the ledge, I might land on the surface of that luminous globe. The immaculate beauty of the place arouses me, and I feel exhilarated.
“Have you ever seen anything like this?” a deep, soothing voice asks from behind me. Turning, my body tenses, and then my eyes look on the face of the voice, the stranger with the beautiful amber eyes. I look up at him; he is much taller than I. Never have I seen a human so beautiful; he is intimidating, with hair as black as a starless night draping down to his mid-back. His eyes remind me of nothing other than the amber columns next to the hearth in this chamber; they glow brilliantly against his golden skin. He wears a black garment that wraps around his waist and stretches down to the floor. And although he has a youthful appearance, his mannerisms and the way he speaks reveal wisdom that can be gained only from the experience of living a long life
“This is the most glorious place I have ever seen,” I say, looking away from his piercing eyes. But then I lock back on them. “How did I get here? Where is that … ”
He interrupts. “You are safe here. This is my home.” My questions are so numerous that I cannot seem to form them individually. I take a deep
I cannot see anything outside of the door, but I am compelled to continue through the opening anyway. I look to my right, into the darkness, and there is nothing. I look left, and it offers the same. My body is numb with fear, but I cannot seem to control its will to find food. My body moves me forward while my mind pleads for me to turn around and run back to the warm fur next to the hearth; it is desperately trying to fight against going into the dark hallway
As I proceed down the dark corridor, torches hanging from the walls begin to ignite with my every step. The walkway appears to be endless, yet with each grumble from my belly, I am compelled to proceed. I turn to look behind me; there is nothing there, not even the torches that burned a moment ago. Complete darkness backs me. All I can navigate is the way in front of me. I follow the torches until I come to another door, an oversized, wooden double door, with black iron rings the size of wagon wheels hanging from the center. The doors are so big that it seems like I will need a team of plow horses to open them. I stand in front of the wooden barriers and watch with intense curiosity as they slowly open on their own. Finally, the enormous doors cease to move, and my eyes take in a beautiful sight.
Candles upon candles illuminate this great room. They line the entire wall that is directly in front of me. Various heights and shapes of candles sit on stones that poke out of the wall. Some have long drips of wax hanging down, almost touching the floor. Others look as though they were just lit.
To my left a hearth harnesses an army of flames. I feel the burn of the fire on my skin. I stand there a moment, closing my eyes, to take in the power of the roaring flames. The walls surrounding the fire are shiny and black, like onyx. On each side of the fireplace stand glowing amber pillars, illuminated by the raging fire. Each of these pillars runs from the chamber floor to the ceiling. I never could have imagined a fireplace being so beautiful.
An iron chandelier the size of a horse carriage hangs from thick black chains above the center of a long table. Its design is intricate and looks as though it took many years to craft. There is no wall to my right; it is completely open to the night sky, where the big, round, blue moon imposes its radiant presence on the chamber. I gaze at the moon; it seems close enough for me to touch were I to lean out of the opening. It is so intrusive that I believe, for a moment, that if I jump from the ledge, I might land on the surface of that luminous globe. The immaculate beauty of the place arouses me, and I feel exhilarated.
“Have you ever seen anything like this?” a deep, soothing voice asks from behind me. Turning, my body tenses, and then my eyes look on the face of the voice, the stranger with the beautiful amber eyes. I look up at him; he is much taller than I. Never have I seen a human so beautiful; he is intimidating, with hair as black as a starless night draping down to his mid-back. His eyes remind me of nothing other than the amber columns next to the hearth in this chamber; they glow brilliantly against his golden skin. He wears a black garment that wraps around his waist and stretches down to the floor. And although he has a youthful appearance, his mannerisms and the way he speaks reveal wisdom that can be gained only from the experience of living a long life
“This is the most glorious place I have ever seen,” I say, looking away from his piercing eyes. But then I lock back on them. “How did I get here? Where is that … ”
He interrupts. “You are safe here. This is my home.” My questions are so numerous that I cannot seem to form them individually. I take a deep
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