Chapter 20

                                    

                                          
    She watched the door shut behind them with a soft thud, her hand still on the railing. She took the last few steps up the stairs, stopping at the landing before choosing to turn right down the hallway in search of the library. She looked from side to side as she walked at a casual pace, observing the beautiful paintings that lined these walls, too. As were her observations of the rest of the castle that she had seen so far, she didn't see any paintings of actual people, mostly just landscapes. She was almost to the end of the hallway when she noticed a painting that stood out beyond the rest. She paused, looking at it.
    The painting itself wasn't very big, maybe 12x14, and was surrounded by a golden frame with crouching dragons carved into the material. Ariana was immediately struck by the sheer beauty of the subject, which was a strange tree with twisted roots that seemed to writhe on the ground before plunging into the leaf-covered dirt. Its grooved, flaming orange trunk broke off into thin branches thats tendrils seemed to reach into the sky itself. In the background, a clear crystalline pond could be seen dominating the rest of the picture, some of the tree's orange branches reflecting off of its mirror-like surface.
    Ariana reached out a hand, gently running her fingers over the dried paint, feeling the artist's brush strokes rise and fall beneath her fingertips as she did so. She wondered silently who painted this one, still mesmerized by the beauty of the tree. The trunk was orange with shades of red running through it, the effect being like the licking of flames up the tree. Thin, pointed yellow and red leaves jutted out from the branches, some cascading to the ground and leaving trails of light behind them as they fell. It was absolutely jarring, but equally as beautiful and enthralling. There was something so otherworldly about it, like a spiritual Mecca of sorts. 
    She was still running her hands over the paint when she heard a soft creak coming from the door directly at the end of the hallway. Feeling curious, she took a few tentative steps toward the elegant mahogany door, her heart racing all of a sudden. She looked behind her down the hallway, listening for the sounds of movement.
    "Ryonen?" She called out. "Lamis?"
    When no one answered, she swallowed and turned back to the door. Curiosity was taking hold of her now and she cleared the space between herself and the door, her hand reaching out to slowly grip the cold metal, turning the knob. The door swung open as if caught in a wind, slamming into the interior wall of the room.
    The room was gigantic, with all of the walls painted the color of rose quartz, along with the ceiling. Long billowy drapes hung from a giant window to the left and on a raised platform sat a king sized four poster bed covered in a gorgeous silver satin comforter. All around the room, various statues and trinkets were scattered on the floor and across tables. To the right of her along the wall was a large golden statue of a sleeping dragon sitting next to a gorgeous set of daggers with hilts that appeared to be iridescent. 
    She stepped forward, wrinkling her eyebrows as she ran a hand over the dagger's smooth hilts, absentmindedly picking one of them up and moving it in the light so that rainbows seemed to run over its surface. She put down the dagger, letting her eyes run over the room and take in all of the beautiful treasures inside of it. She was struck by just how much this family had committed to the chosen theme in the castle, and it was undeniable to her at this point. Dragons. They were everywhere. The front door knocker, the legs of the bathtub, the embroidery on both Ryonens tunic and her nightgown, the picture frame, and now the various statues in the room.
    She ran her hand over a golden statue of a dragon sitting like a dog, his sapphire eyes seeming to stare defiantly at her. Next to that there was another statue, this one about the size of a cat. It wasn't gold, but a vivid red with scales that had immense detail and catlike eyes the color of maple syrup. They seemed so real that she leaned closer, looking intently at the glassy surface. 
    A shimmer of blue flickered in them and she stepped back, startled. She looked around and saw nothing. It must have been the light playing tricks on her mind, she thought, looking behind her again. In the corner of the room, about the same area that she thought she had seen the light, stood an elongated package wrapped in silky rose fabric and tied with a golden rope. It was leaning, almost precariously, against the wall and Ariana could just barely see the top of the object sticking out of the fabric. She walked across the room, curiosity once again taking over common sense.
    The bundle was tall, reaching just above her belly button, which was at least over 3 feet. The part of the object that stuck out of the fabric looked familiar to her and she leaned down, looking closer, realization washing over her as she gazed at it. It was a sword.
    The handle on the sword was wrapped with a high quality black leather, a faint bluish glow emitting from the jewel settled in the pommel at the end of it. She felt a sudden urge to touch it, to run her fingers over the soft looking leather and grip it in her hand. It was almost as if she needed to pick it up, her fingers twitching as she felt the overwhelming desire to wrap them around its grip.
    She stopped herself, pulling her hand back and burrowing it into her chest. No, she thought, frustrated with herself, what was she doing? She took a step backward, putting space between herself and the sword. She couldn't just invade Lamis' privacy like this, she was better than that. She had let her curiosity get the better of her. It was clear from the crumpled up comforter and haphazardly closed curtains that this bedroom was being used. She shook her head and turned toward the door, shutting it regretfully behind her. 
    As she made her way back up the hallway, she found herself wondering about the sword. It was beautiful, the shine of the silver glinting in the light from the window and making it look timeless. She wondered if it was Lamis', then stopped herself. She couldn't ask him about the sword. If she said anything about it, she might as well be revealing she had gone in there. There's no reason for her to know about it other than through nosiness, and she didn't want to disappoint him after all he'd done for her.
    Up ahead, she finally saw the door to the library. She had to have been too preoccupied before to have passed it because, looking at it now, it stood out like a sore thumb. A pair of French doors stood to her left, the golden handles glittering like flames as she approached. She turned them, tentatively opening the doors and then stopping in her tracks, gasping.
    A vast space lay before her, aisles upon aisles of books stretching on endlessly into the interior of the room. The walls were painted a creamy yellow and had intricate scrollwork moulding lining the area between the walls and the ceiling. Floating there, as in every room of the castle, were glowing orbs of blue and gold, their brilliance lighting up the room as they bobbed gently in the air. The ceiling itself took her breath away, the space filled with the most beautifully detailed depictions she had ever seen outside of books or photos. Dragons were everywhere; flying over mountains, diving into lakes, spewing fire at black-clad enemies. She saw one giant dragon with a dark haired rider on its back, their hair flying behind them in the wind as the dragon soared through the clouds. She spun around, her eyes not knowing where to focus.
    Against the walls, golden themed furniture was placed strategically around short round tables piled with books. They looked lived in, the fabric crumpled and creased from long hours of being sat on. Ariana walked forward, looking down at the books laying on the table. Bold lettering covered the front of the one on top, reading 'Atheil: A History of the Early Monarch.' She opened it, flipping through the pages and glancing at the golden lettering that covered them, seeing the occasional drawing of a map or a castle. She shut it with a snap and then saw a book laying open in the chair. She leaned on the arm of the chair, reaching down and picking it up. She looked down at the open page, her eyes scanning the words there written in neatly scrolled handwriting.