Shades of Grey

LOCATION UNKNOWN— DECEMBER 1843

“Grey! Hurry up! We’re going to be late!”

I opened my eyes as the flames died and looked up quickly to see young versions of myself, Forma, Loria and Scepta running through the hushed halls that I at once recognised as those of the Greatheart Academy of Creature Hunting.

“Excuse me?! I’m not the one who had to spend an extra twenty minutes in front of the mirror in the event that I came across the ever-so-lovely Michael Swann!”

The younger Grey, possibly in year two or three, turned to face young Loria who put her hands on her hips in contemptuously offended bravura.

“Oh really?!” she cried acerbically.

“Yes really!” Young Grey cried through laughter. “You’ve fancied him all year!”

Scepta frowned and stared incredulously at Loria.

“Really? Why Michael Swann?”

Loria’s mouth hung agape as she rushed to defend herself.

“Why not Michael Swann?”

“Because he’s a great stupid brute with no more brains than a Traqua,” Scepta retorted in a serious voice. Forma stifled giggles.

“But he’s so sweet to me!” Loria cried defensively.

“So are Lord Krunuk’s cats but I don’t see you dolling yourself up for them!” Scepta shot back. The young Forma and Grey both erupted in laughter.

I smiled as I recalled this very memory, when unexpectedly a very tall and very handsome figure that I recognised but did not recall being familiar with at this point in my life turned around the corner. My muscles clenched in rage upon seeing his perfect face once again and I had a strong desire to break it into a thousand pieces.

“Rodag! What are you doing here? We said we’d meet you at the assembly!”

What the devil was going on? This was not what happened! Loria and I ran in to the school-wide assembly late and we were punished with ten lashes. Why was Rodag suddenly in my school memories?!

“I came to get you in through a side door, then the Lords and Ladies won’t see you!” he smiled and ushered the four of us through a secret door, leaving me alone to stand in unseen astonishment.

“Careful, Grey: you seem shocked....”

I turned around and saw the regal Lord Rasna standing strongly behind me. I froze for a minute, shocked that he was still alive, and then remembered to kneel in reverence.

“Lord Rasna…I’m stunned to see you here!” I said as I stood up.

“Why? Should I not be here?” he asked cryptically.

“How can you see me?” I quickly changed the subject; suddenly suspicious of whether this was the real Lord Rasna. When he responded with only a perceptive smile and a clever chuckle, I relaxed: this was indeed the Rasna I remembered.

“Sir, what is this?” I asked, gesturing around. “That wasn’t right…that’s not what happened…”

Rasna shook his head; his identity confirmed even further when he replied with an obscurely hinting sentence. I could feel the instruction in his voice.

“This is a dangerous place, Grey. It is best not to ask ‘what’ but ‘why.’ I’m afraid I can’t say much more than that.”

Lord Rasna then stepped to the left and waved his arm down the northeast hall that led to the dungeons. I gave him a quick look of appreciation and took off running as fast as I could down the hallway. However, after a good ten seconds, I realised that something was not right. Instead of the doorways and staircases leading to the classrooms and dormitories, all I came across were the familiar thick tapestries and blank areas of stone wall: the hallway had no end.

“This isn’t right,” I said to myself as I stopped next to a suit of armour display to gather my bearings. I sighed in irritation and punched the wall with all of my power, venting some of my frustrations. The stone bricks in the wall then gave a distinct shudder and a descending low-lit stairway materialised in the wall next to me. I had inadvertently knocked open a secret door.

My hand instinctively flew to my hip where my Flamesword habitually sat, until I remembered that Natara had taken it. I sighed in exasperation and reluctantly descended stairs, finally arriving at the one part of the school I had never seen: the dungeons.

Before me lay a long, stone vestibule with two large cells on opposing sides. Torches flickered above me and the only sound I could hear was the melodic dripping of fluid from some undefined source.

“Forma?” I called. The only reply I received was a low, resonating growl.

The source of the growl then stepped into the light, causing whatever confidence I had scrounged to disappear entirely.

A huge, malformed werewolf stood at the end of the hallway with glowing yellow eyes and a snout sodden with saliva. It stood at least thirteen foot high and seven foot wide, muscle bulging upon malformed muscle; staring at me with a wide, hungry sneer.

I took one careful step forward, educing a fearsome roar from the werewolf, and turned to face the first cell which swung open with a long groan of objection.

I took a steadying breath and walked forward.