The thought of the mansion's owner filled him with curiosity and a strange sense of reverence.
Then, a sudden realization struck Heka. Kiervant Sky was not in the human realm. It existed in the Immortal realm.
He mused, intrigued by the idea of a world beyond mortal understanding. "Maybe it is the way that all creatures who live in the Immortal realm live like this?"
He became interested in settling down in the Immortal realm. His gaze settled on the teapot.
It was exquisite, crafted in a medieval style. Its golden white surface was engraved with a dragon curling around the body. The design was intricate and ancient, a relic from another time, millions of years ago.
He lifted the teapot, surprised by its weight. Inside, he could hear the faint sound of liquid sloshing. Carefully, he opened the lid. The water inside was deep red, like wine. It gave off a faint, intoxicating aroma.
Suddenly, a sharp pain shot through his finger.
"Augh…" He cried out.
He pulled his hand back. Something had bitten him. Blood welled up from the small puncture wound. Instinctively, he bit his finger to stop the bleeding, his eyes locked on the dragon engraving.
To his astonishment, the dragon seemed to move. Its scales were shimmering. Its eyes were glinting with a life of their own.
Heka's eyes lingered on the delicate teapot. Its surface was intricately carved with the figure of a dragon coiling around its body. The craftsmanship was exquisite, almost lifelike. A flicker of curiosity sparked within him as he leaned closer, whispering to himself. "Is the dragon alive?"
The question hung in the air, heavy with wonder and a hint of disbelief. Unable to resist, Heka reached out cautiously. His fingers were trembling slightly as they brushed against the dragon's scaled form.
The moment his skin made contact, a subtle movement rippled through the carving. The dragon's head twitched, its eyes gleaming with a fiery spark. Heka's breath caught in his throat. The dragon was alive.
Startled beyond measure, Heka's grip faltered. And the teapot slipped from his hands. It crashed onto the floor with a sharp clatter, the dragon carving tumbling alongside it.
The dragon, now free from its delicate prison, lay still, seemingly dazed from the fall. Heka's heart pounded fiercely as he watched the scene unfold.
Water spilled from the shattered teapot. It cascaded over the edge of the table and onto the candles burning below. The flames flickered but did not extinguish. Instead, they danced steadily, as if fueled by some unseen force.
Fear gripped Heka's chest like a vice. He took a slow, deliberate step backward. His mind raced with regret. He muttered under his breath. "It's better to get out of this place."
His instincts screamed at him to flee, to escape the mysterious mansion before its secrets consumed him. But as he turned to leave, his feet betrayed him. They felt rooted to the spot, as if invisible chains held him fast.
Panic surged through his veins. "Why can't I move? What happened?"
From the shadows, a figure emerged. The stranger's presence was commanding, yet enigmatic. Clad in a long robe adorned with a plain cloak. The figure's face was hidden beneath a veil, casting it in shadow.
Heka's breath hitched. "Is he the owner of the
mansion? What will he do to me?"
The owner's gaze seemed to pierce through Heka's very soul. It forbade him from leaving. Heka's fear escalated to its peak. His mind spun with dark possibilities. "Does he want to kill me? If he wants to kill me, fine. Just do... Meanwhile, I don't have anything at all."
The owner's hand reached out and grasped a small, lilac-colored rabbit that had been resting nearby. Without a word, he walked toward the sofa. The owner limping in his grasp. Heka dared not meet the stranger's eyes. Instead fixating on the fallen teapot.
To his astonishment, the teapot began to move on its own. The spilled water gathered, swirling and flowing back into the vessel as if by magic.
The dragon flew toward the owner. He coiled around his hand, alive and responsive, its scales warm to the touch. He wrapped his fingers around.
The dragon's eyes glowed brighter as it accepted the offering. The owner handed the lilac rabbit to the dragon, which bit into the creature, drawing its blood. The rabbit's life ebbed away, its blood dripping into the teapot.
Heka watched in horrified fascination as the dragon swallowed the rabbit. The realization dawned on him with a shudder. "The dragon is really alive? It means the dragon who bites me... Wait, is it blood?"
A wave of relief washed over him as he realized he had not yet drunk from the teapot. The implications of what he had witnessed were terrifying and mysterious.
Heka's heart ached as he watched the lilac-colored rabbit limp in the owner's grasp. The creature's soft fur was once vibrant and full of life.
Now it was stained with dark, dripping blood.
A surge of helplessness and sorrow overwhelmed him. He desperately wanted to intervene, to stop the cruel ritual unfolding before his eyes.
But terror held him, captive his body was frozen, immobile. As if bound by invisible chains. No matter how much he struggled within himself, he could not move a single muscle.
Silence enveloped the room, broken only by the faint sound of the owner's deliberate movements. Heka's mind raced with silent pleas, hoping against hope that this enigmatic figure would show mercy and allow him to leave.
However, the fear gnawed deeper when he saw the owner lift a small cup. It was filled with the rabbit's blood. And then, he drank it with a calm, almost ritualistic grace.
"Why don't you write your wishes? Instead, you destroyed my mansion." The owner said. His voice cut through the silence, cold and sharp.
The words hung in the air, heavy with accusations and power. Heka's throat tightened. He stammered, barely able to find his voice. "I... I... I just want to get out of here. So, can you let me go, please?"