Milla Hueston and Michael Atkinson were astonished. One minute ago they just took a parcel from Magda, the bartender of the Moon and Sixpence. One minute after, they were standing on top of a rock spur, looking out to a castle hanging on the black cliff wall.
The view was impressive. Above their heads, the arms of two stone colossi interlocked into a great arch. Underneath their feet, a mirror of emerald waters clung to the last rays of a red setting sun. Behind them, towering cliff walls guided a rapid river towards the dark foaming sea and a golden maroon sky. And in front of them, a pair of obsidian beasts guarded the entrance to whatever realms lay ahead. Those were the bridgeheads, but there was no bridge.
Milla looked down the vertical cliff wall and estimated the drop to be at least two hundred feet, maybe three. The wind roared up the cliff wall, lashing into Milla's face, the young couple shivered like leaves in the late autumn chillness.
"Mill, be careful!" Michael enclosed his fiancee in his arms, both retreated to three yards away from the edge. Milla tightened her jacket and snuggled deep into Michael's arms.
"Where are we exactly?" The man stole a glance at the green water down below, winced, and staggered back.
"Well, according to Madame Fatine and Magda, it is called the Sanctuary." Milla shifted her attention from the depth below to the distance ahead, to the castle across the lake, and eventually, to the statues of the winged creatures in front of their eyes. The statutes were carved out of obsidian stones, their forms of power and grace resembled largely those of the horses, but the heads, taloned hooves, and tails had more of a draconic touch, and of course, the wings.
"Sanctuary? More like Castlevania." Michael's warm brown eyes squinted sideways. "And how do we get there? I don't suppose those thestrals, bat-pegasus or whatever they are, will come to life and fly us across the lake, won't they?" The man jerked his head towards the stone beasts standing on their hind legs, his bun and beard bounced with the sudden movement.
"Michael, you are a genius!" Milla's leaf green eyes shot wide open. "Check the statues! See if there're any notches. Magda won't have given us those badges for nothing!" Milla's action was ahead of her words, in mid-sentence, she had already squatted down, her fingers fumbled around the bases of the statues.
"Mill, babe, I don't think that's how it works." Michael studied the large silver coin lies in the centre of his palm, on its semi-matte surface, a blackbird or phoenix was spreading its wings.
"What should we do then?" With a frustrated groan, Milla stood up. There was no notch, no mechanism, not even a single crack, nothing.
"I don't know....Hey did you recall that bartender lady said something along the line of 'walk ahead and don't look down'?"
"Yeah, yeah, she said something like that." Milla pondered, "Is it some kind of optical illusion? Like that canyon bridge thing from Indiana Jones?"
"Well, there is only one way to find out." Michael inched towards the edge of the cliff. "Mike NO!" Milla grabbed onto her fiance’s sleeve.
"Mill, I'm not an Assassin, I don't do the leap of faith, at least not in front of some Dracula castle. Hold my hand, grab onto that thestral's hind leg, just let me." As they spoke, Michael probed the empty space ahead of the two statues, like a chip is about to be tossed into the hot oil. A silver-blue crystal disc materialise out of the thin air, Michael lifted his foot, the disc disappeared, and as he lowered his foot to the level of the cliff edge, it was there again. Without letting go of his hand, Michael shifted all his body weight on the glowing platform, despite its incorporeal quality, the material was solid and strong. The young couple was being ferried to the other side by a piece of glowing crystal.
"Well." Commented Milla, "I still prefer flying on the back of living statues."
In no time the couple was brought to their destination, a semi-oval marble plaza, roughly the size of half or two-thirds of a football field. The ground was mosaicked, but the pattern was known to neither of them. Three more pairs of thestral, wolf, and raven creature statues guarded the pathway. Beyond that, nothing lay between them and the thirteen steps leading up to the castle gate. Milla and Michael’s gaze followed the top of the gate, to the walls and a series of connecting bridges and platforms, and eventually to the highest tower of the structure. Their necks were at their backward-bending limits. The castle emerged out of the mountain rock like a crown relief, and a waterfall a silver sword cleaving into the structure.
"No turning back now." Milla slipped one hand into her fiance's, the other clung to the box they received from Magda the bartender. Michael managed a smile, he tried to blow a whistle but a cough came out as a failed attempt. On three, they ascended the steps and at the third knock, the door cracked open.
To the couple's great surprise, a young man, roughly the same age as Michael, stuck his head out, his olive-green gaze danced back and forward between the unexpected visitors.
"Greetings!" Michael's attempt of either humour or being civil was received by a look of confusion from the young man, and a roll of eyeballs from his fiancee.
"Good afternoon, how can I help?" The young man was polite enough to not give any comments.
Milla shouldered her fiance, "Good afternoon, my name’s Milla, and this is my fiance Michael. First of all, a silly question, we are at the Sanctuary, aren’t we?"
"Of course you are, the one and only Sanctuary. The name’s Joel, what can I do for you?" Still puzzled, the young man quickly put a smile on his face, grinning ear to ear.
"We, we were referred by a Madame Fatine from La Lune et Sixpence." Milla pressed her lips together, trying her best to sound sane and reasonable. "We are in search of an heirloom, and she believes we...will be able to find an answer in here."
"Madame Fatine is your middleman...woman? Emmm interesting, well it does sound like our line of work, but Miss..."
"Hueston, Milla Hueston."
"Miss Hueston, what is this heirloom exactly?"
"Well, that’s a bit of a long story."
"Aren't you going to invite us in? Or do we have to invite ourselves in, like a reversed vampire logic or something?" Seeing their receptionist was a man like him, not some hunchback, deformed creature from many vampire movies, Michael loosened up greatly, to the degree that he shoved his hands into pockets and blew a half whistle.
"Well, it's really not my place to do so...you are here a bit early. In fact, it's a miracle you were able to cross that bridge." The young man pointed a finger towards the way the couple just came from. "Unless you were bestowed the Sigil of the Black Phoenix?"
"You mean, this?" Michael flung a fist out of his pocket, tossed something in the air, and caught a silver coin in his palm.
"Oh, that's a different story then. I suppose it doesn't hurt to wait in the lobby."
"Oh, it’s very kind of you, thank y..."
Milla's froze mid-sentence, her face turned white as a sheet. Joel followed her rigid gaze, a figure seemed to materialise out of the thin air. No footfall on the black marble floor, its ghastly white form floated across the darkness of the empty hall, like an albino goldfish swan silently across a ripple-less pool. The figure was a she and the whiteness was a nightgown. Messy dark hair covered her equally pale visage. Something was being held against her lips. Then she felt the gaze and returned hers, two blazing amber orbs staring back at the trio. With the movement of her arm, an object, seemingly a glass or a goblet, was removed from her lips, revealing the morbid glistening of some kind of ruby liquid. Milla's legs nearly gave in. Joel was unmoved by the sight at all, instead, he shouted at the figure. "Hey Boss, we have visitors? Should I let them in?" Before the last syllable dispelled, the figure had disappeared on top of the grand staircase. Her voice though echoed in the dark and empty hall.
"Five minutes, Mr. Haddson! I shall join you in the reception room!"
