Paltio tapped the tips of his boots lightly together, igniting their lights and flooding the space with a faint, ethereal glow. The beams revealed something unsettling: floating faces peering at them from the shadows. But the worst was yet to come. A colossal demonic head slowly emerged from the darkness, its ominous form casting dancing shadows on the crumbling walls. Its eyes burned like glowing embers as its voice echoed in the air—first sweet and honeyed, then cold and malevolent: "You will die here."
"What the hell is that?" Galatea shouted, her trembling voice betraying the terror she felt at the sight of the supernatural apparition. Her body tensed, and her hands instinctively reached for the weapon at her side.
"I don't know what it is, but I'm going to fight it," Pax declared with determination. He unsheathed his sword in a flash of silver and lunged toward the floating heads. The blade sliced cleanly through one of them, but there was no blood, no resistance—only a mocking echo that filled the air.
"You can't kill what's already dead!" the heads replied in unison, their voices resonating like a sinister choir.
"Then they're ghosts!" Pax exclaimed harshly, just before a brutal impact struck him from behind. He was hurled into one of the walls, which crumbled beneath his weight due to its ruined state. The crash reverberated through the empty space, leaving a cloud of dust suspended in the air.
Galatea tried to intervene, drawing her own weapon, but an invisible force repelled her mercilessly. She collapsed beside Pax, who was still struggling to catch his breath. They exchanged looks of frustration and fear.
"What are you?" Paltio asked, though his voice quivered slightly, betraying his nervousness. It was clear he had never faced anything like this—ghosts, specters, beings that defied the logic of life and death.
"We…" said the floating heads, whose forms resembled ordinary avocados, like any common citizen. "We are merely servants of the great head." All eyes turned to the towering demonic figure, who spoke with a voice that rumbled like distant thunder: "I am the sovereign of this place. I am a specter, and my name is Eveldow. You have invaded my domain, and you will pay for your audacity with your lives."
"Wait, Lord Eveldow," Mok interjected quickly, trying to ease the tension. "We apologize for entering without permission. My name is Mok, and this young man beside me is Prince Paltio of Avocadalia. We've only come for a piece of the scepter hidden here. Could you explain, Master Paltio?"
Paltio opened his mouth to speak, but the words simply wouldn't come. It was as if an invisible knot had formed in his throat, paralyzing his ability to express himself. He felt the weight of Eveldow's gaze piercing into him, scrutinizing, judging.
Golden, noticing the prince's discomfort, decided to step in. "We've come in search of the piece of the Scepter of Avocios," he explained firmly. "If we don't find it, the consequences could be devastating for all the realms."
Eveldow tilted his massive head, assessing Golden's words with a piercing gaze. Then he let out a deep, resonant laugh, like a distant echo that seemed to vibrate in the bones of those who heard it. "That doesn't concern me. You're a specter too, aren't you?" he asked, his tone laced with a mix of disdain and curiosity.
"No, I'm not," Golden replied quickly, raising his hands in a gesture of peace. His voice was calm, but his eyes betrayed a flicker of tension under Eveldow's intense scrutiny.
The specter then shifted his focus to Paltio, pointing at him. "And you, boy… do you think being royalty makes you superior to me?" His voice now burned like invisible flames, radiating a contained fury that caused everyone in the room to tense up.
Mok, noticing the escalating tension, interjected swiftly, adopting a conciliatory tone. "Hmm... My apologies, Lord Eveldow," he said, bowing his head in a gesture of reverence. "The prince seems frightened. With such a terrifying appearance as yours, I wouldn't be surprised if he froze stiff from fear." He paused, carefully measuring his words before continuing: "I hope the lad hasn't wet himself… though, given the circumstances, it would be understandable."
Eveldow remained silent for a few moments, his eyes fixed on Mok as he processed the words. Finally, he let out an audible sigh, and his expression softened slightly. "Ah! Yes, I see. I can be quite intimidating at times, can't I? Fair enough. I hope the lad hasn't wet himself because, frozen with fright, he collapsed right into your arms, steward." A mocking smile crossed his face as he reflected on his own imposing presence. "It wouldn't surprise me if he had."
He paused, as if considering something significant. Then he added: "I'll change into something friendlier."
The specter began to transform before their eyes. His demonic form, once towering and terrifying, gradually dissolved. His sharp features and menacing aura gave way to the appearance of a middle-aged avocado gentleman. His short black hair was neatly combed, and round glasses rested on his nose. Though his presence remained commanding, he now exuded an almost paternal calm, resembling a kindly grandfather rather than a supernatural creature.
"That's better," Eveldow declared, adjusting his glasses with a casual gesture.
One of the floating heads drifted closer to him and remarked, in an amused tone: "Sir, I think you should also change that nightmare-inducing voice of yours."
Eveldow let out a deep, guttural laugh. "You're right. I suppose this voice could still scare someone, couldn't it?"
"This is much better for all of you," Eveldow said, his voice now warm and friendly, almost like that of a gentle old man.
"Yes, much better, Lord Eveldow," Paltio responded, finally regaining his composure after the initial shock of the specter's demonic form. "You nearly gave me a terrible fright… I even thought I might faint right here," he added with nervous laughter, though he couldn't help blushing as he recalled the specter's teasing remark about his reaction.
"I'm sorry, young man, my earlier remark was just a joke," Eveldow said with a reassuring smile, adjusting his glasses. "But I understand it was disrespectful for you to enter my domain uninvited. Please tell me why you're here."
"Very well, Lord Eveldow," Paltio began, taking a deep breath to steady his nerves. "We're on a quest to find the pieces of the Scepter of Avocios. We need to save my people and my parents. Golden can show you everything that's happened so far."
Eveldow raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Very well, go ahead. Show me what you've been through. I'll decide if you deserve my interest or not."
Golden nodded and projected a hologram from his device, displaying recent events as though they were a film. The images unfolded in the air, capturing every detail from Paltio's perspective, who had consented to let him read his mind to share their journey.
Eveldow watched intently, fully immersed in the story. His lips tightened during tense moments, and his eyes gleamed with a mix of surprise and emotion when he saw the trials the group had overcome. When it ended, he struck one fist against the other palm, producing a sharp sound that echoed through the space.
"I admit, I'm impressed," Eveldow confessed, his tone now more serious. "Your story even moved me, boy. However," he continued, a sly smile crossing his face, "if you want to enter my domain and obtain what you seek, first you must save your friends."
Suddenly, a thick transparent tube emerged from the ground, trapping Alita and Ron inside. The tube vibrated slightly, and both pounded desperately against its inner walls, their expressions reflecting panic and anguish. Beside the tube, an hourglass began to rotate slowly, marking time with ominous gravity.
"So there you are!" Galatea exclaimed, jumping up after recovering from the earlier impact. Pax, still beneath her, groaned in protest: "You can get off me now! You weigh more than you look!"
"It's you!" Alita and Ron shouted, their muffled voices barely audible but visible in their frantic gestures. "Get us out of here!" they pleaded, though the thickness of the tube made it impossible to hear them clearly. Their silent, desperate movements conveyed the terror they felt.
"The test is simple, boy," Eveldow announced, crossing his arms. "Only you—and no one else—can undertake it. Neither your steward nor that thing that sprouts from your seed," he added, gesturing dismissively at Golden, "can intervene. Do you agree to the terms?"
Paltio glanced toward the tube, where his friends were still futilely struggling against their prison. He knew he had no choice. "Well, I don't have much of a choice," he admitted with determination. "I'll do it. What's the test about?"
"The test, as I said, is simple," Eveldow explained, extending an arm toward what lay behind them. "You just need to reach the last corridor of this castle, located on the fourth floor, and bring back a leaf from the tree there. Nothing could be easier, right?"
"Seems easy enough, doesn't it?" Paltio asked, frowning.
"No, nothing could be simpler than what I'm proposing," Eveldow repeated, his voice dripping with irony. "But..."
"I knew there was always a 'but' in these things," Golden interjected, his tone laced with sarcasm and concern. "There are traps everywhere. You'll need to act quickly and carefully because you only have the time marked by that clock."
Eveldow nodded, pointing to a small floating head that resembled a child. "This little floating head will accompany you so you know when your time runs out. Go with him, Milko."
"Yes, Lord Eveldow!" the childlike head responded enthusiastically, though its clumsy movements made it clear he wasn't exactly the most reliable companion. The other floating heads began murmuring among themselves, their voices barely audible but heavy with mockery: "Oh! He's sending the scatterbrained Milko. This will be interesting."
"Ready, prince?" Eveldow asked, crossing his arms as he observed Paltio with a mix of curiosity and anticipation.
"You can do it, Master Paltio," Mok encouraged from his position, raising his fists as if ready to cheer. "I'll root for you from here!"
"Yes, you can do it, Prince!" Galatea added, her determined tone trying to instill confidence in Paltio.
"Don't mess up, kid," Pax grumbled, though his comment carried more support than criticism.
Paltio looked around, feeling the weight of everyone's expectations pressing down on him. Golden, ever practical, chimed in with one last piece of advice: "I think you'll have to run a lot, boy. And I know sports aren't your strong suit, but you'll have to push through. The sand is connected to the machine. If time runs out..."
"So you know," Eveldow interrupted with a cold smile, finishing the sentence. "If time runs out, and you don't achieve the goal, your friends will be buried in the sand... and, well, I'll gain two more subjects." The specter let out a low, chilling laugh, like the distant echo of thunder.
Paltio swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry. He glanced at the tube where Alita and Ron were still futilely beating against their transparent prison. Their faces reflected panic, and their desperate blows echoed faintly in the air.
"I can do this," Paltio whispered to himself, almost inaudibly, trying to calm the whirlwind of emotions threatening to overwhelm him. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment before opening them with renewed determination. Nodding at Eveldow, he signaled he was ready.
"Very well, let's begin, boy," Eveldow declared, slowly raising his hand. He counted down with his fingers, each number resonating like a hammer strike in the tense silence of the room: "Three… two… one. It's time to start."