text: (IP) The Door to Doom &#x200B; The windows of the ancient, crumbling castles were aglow with light and life, and it brought the boy to a halt. All these years, he’d been told that the stories he was so fond of chasing were just that: pretty stories told to children at bedtime. But he was standing right here, the proof right before his eyes. &#x200B; The buildings felt haunted to the explorer, and for a moment, just one, he was rooted to the spot, unsure on whether or not to go in. But he could almost hear his ancestors’ voices on the wind, urging him on. After all, he hadn’t come all this way just to turn tail and run home. Despite his unease, he went forward, and he held the reins of his mare, making soothing noises. She followed him, nickering nervously. &#x200B; What secrets hid within these ancient dwellings? It was so odd to see them in real time, instead of illustrations or photographs in books. A cold wind brushed across his face, making his horse’s mane ruffle. It felt like an omen, a portent of what was to come. He raised his head and he could’ve sworn he heard faint music. &#x200B; Were there people inside? Even now, he felt the hairs on the back of his neck prickling. He could feel eyes on him, and it made it hard to breathe. He tied his horse’s reins to the remnants of an iron gate, and he reached into the pocket of his tunic, reassuring himself that his weapons were still there. &#x200B; Despite the fear he felt, his curiosity was that much stronger, even if it meant risking his life. &#x200B; \*\* &#x200B; He ducked inside the first entrance he saw, and he bit back a gasp. It appeared that he’d stumbled upon what used to be the castle’s armory, there were weapons still within their sheaths, and somehow, they weren’t rusted or corroded. In fact, they looked freshly sharpened. That creeping feeling of unease reared its ugly head again, and he spun around, certain that there was someone or something behind him. For a moment, his imagination conjured endless possibilities: a restless spirit, a vicious, angry banshee, a winged beast who would rip his heart out of his chest-- &#x200B; But he could hear the music, as well as a soft voice, somehow male and female, ancient and childlike. &#x200B; “Do you know what you’ve stumbled upon, boy?” The voice asked, its voice booming in the cavernous room. “If you break the seal, it will mean doom for us all!” &#x200B; “What seal?” The explorer asked, and the voice sighed, stirring his hair with the breeze it created. &#x200B; “It is a long story, boy. It would take an age for me to tell it all.” &#x200B; To the explorer, the voice sounded tired, annoyed, but cultured, as if the spirit had been a noble when it was alive. &#x200B; “But you mustn’t break it, or it would mean doom for not just this old kingdom, but the entire land. You’re lucky it was I who came across you, and not any of my brothers and sisters.” &#x200B; “But why?” &#x200B; “Because, you dear, foolish human boy, they would kill you.