It was dark. His head hurt. The air smelt dank and musty. The bed felt hard and cold. Not at all like his bed at home. Wait, this wasn’t a bed. As Ciel’s senses slowly came back to him, he realized that what he had thought to be a bed was actually a cold stone floor. He frowned but kept his eyes closed. He slowly recollected what had happened earlier. This was why you only give chase when you know that you have the advantage. He could hear his father’s exasperated voice in his ear already. Right now, he would gladly endure his father’s hour long lecture if it meant that he would be able to get back to the club safe and sound.

He forced his aching head to concentrate on his surroundings; it didn’t seem as if there was anyone around. Whoever had knocked him out had left. It was strange though. He was very sure that there was no one in that chamber. How had he been knocked out? Ciel forced his still heavy eyelids to open. In the dim, almost dark surroundings, he could make the blurry outlines of a room. He wasn’t in the chamber where he had been knocked out at least. Where was he? He hadn’t been paying attention to where he had been going, his eyes focussed only on chasing the suspicious stranger. He hadn’t even realized that the club had such underground chambers in the restricted zone. Rubbing his sore head and forcing himself to get off the floor, Ciel tentatively groped around the shadowy room; afraid to use his magic for fear of being caught.

It was a strange room. It was rather narrow and long, with a solid wall in front of him; not at all like a regular room. It was also rather low; Ciel couldn’t even fully stretch his arm up before he felt the ceiling above him. Was this perhaps not a room at all? It did feel more like a passageway than anything else. Perhaps whoever had caused him to faint had placed him here so that Fionn and Bei would not be able to find him. Since there was a dead end in front of him. Ciel could only turn around and make his way out from the other end.

After fumbling and stumbling in the dark, Ciel couldn’t take it anymore and lit a small ball of light. The tiny glow illuminated the corridor and Ciel at the very least could see a little more than the hand in front of his face. He slowly made his way, the ball of light like a magical firefly that seemed to dance about his head. He counted as he walked, but stopped when he reached five hundred. It seemed strange. Why did the assailant send him so far in? It should have been enough that he wasn’t seen, right? If Fionn and Bei came across the room with so many exits and no sign of him, the most logical thing to do would have been to turn back and get his father. They wouldn’t have stepped out of their tunnel, as all the passageways would look identical in the dim lighting. He decided to turn around and look at the wall he had left behind earlier. Not ten steps later, he stopped again. The wall was in front of him.

“I’m in trouble now…” he sighed to himself.

He gently reached out to touch the wall. It was as solid as when he had molested it the first time. Touching and patting all over, he did not find any secret buttons to press or any special mechanism that would magically release him. He leaned his forehead against the hard stones and exhaled in defeat. He could not sense any magic but how had he walked five hundred steps away to find the wall ten steps behind him?

Reaching out, he used his magic to carve a ‘C’ on the wall, around eye level. Then, he also carved two more marks on either side of the wall. Walking away, he mentally counted to fifteen before he turned back. Ten steps behind him was the wall, the ‘C’ sharp and prominent in the middle. The two ‘C’s on either side of the wall were gone though. Ciel couldn’t help wrinkling his brow in confusion. So it wasn’t an illusion. But did that mean that the wall was following him? Like a puppy? He kneaded his still sore head. Why couldn’t he get something small, cute and fluffy?

“Are you following me?” it felt stupid talking to a wall but he had to try. To his surprise, the wall started to move closer. “Whoa there!” he put his hand out to stop the cold stone from crashing into him. If the wall really behaved like a friendly dog, he would be crushed. The wall obediently stopped. He blinked and looked at the wall and his hand. He couldn’t believe that worked.

 “Will you let me out?” there was the sound of stone rubbing against stone.

“Is that a yes or a no?” more grating sounds. Sounding exactly the same as before.

“Please?” again, the same sound.

“Spoilsport” Ciel pouted. He couldn’t believe that he was talking to a wall. He also couldn’t believe that the wall answered. He hoped that no one ever found out about this episode of his escapade; he wouldn’t know how to answer.

“So I should just keep walking ahead?” stone against stone, but the sound was different.

“I can’t believe I understand a wall…”

He turned around and continued in the only direction he could go, the wall hugging closer to him now. Maybe he shouldn’t have touched it… They moved in silence; a man, a wall and a tiny glimmer of light. After a while, Ciel finally came to the end of the tunnel and felt relieved as he left the feeling of claustrophobia behind. He turned to look and saw the wall stuck at the end of the passageway, unable to move forward or it would topple over. Perhaps it was his imagination but the wall looked disappointed. Ciel couldn’t do anything about it though, his parents had warned them about bringing strange pets home. The cockatrice the twins found when they were about seventy still left a bad memory for everyone. He turned back and gave the wall a pat.

“Thank you for guiding me.” The wall gave a rumble and then was still. Ciel could feel that it was different from before, as if it was now a lifeless piece of masonry. He now turned his attention to find out where he was. It was a circular chamber with multiple exits, similar to the one where he had been knocked out in. But he knew it was not the same place; the ceiling was arched and adorned with beautiful frescoes. He made his little light ball glow a little brighter and was greeted with a beautiful scenery depicting a natural landscape. The piece took up a portion of the ceiling, portraying mountains, fields, forests and the sea. Beside it was another fresco with exactly the same background. However, there was a crack in the middle of the scenery, miasma and dark tendrils seemed to be floating out of the innocuous flaw.

A shadow gap? Where the Arnitikós flowed between worlds? It was a very ominous picture that sent chills down his back. He turned to look at the other side of the ceiling; again the same scenery as before. If there was anything strange about it, it would be that the sky was a purplish red with the sun, moon and stars all visible at the same time. He gasped.

“World of broken sky…”

He’d heard of it before, in his many lessons with his father. A world of broken sky was one that had been abandoned and sealed away by the guardians. It normally meant that there had been some sort of threat that could not be contained or stopped and those threats would pose a danger to other worlds it came in contact with. The gatekeepers were then forced to either destroy or contain the danger. In weighing the pros and cons, the world would be abandoned if it was deemed that they would tip over the universal scales. But worlds, like people, needed some form of contact with each other; it allowed magic and life to flow through. That was why the concept of parallel worlds and other worlds were so popular and felt real. Even if denizens of that world had no contact with magic, even if science was the leading force to that world; subconsciously, the truth about the worlds were bred into the bone. So a world that was sealed away from the other worlds was like a prisoner in solitary confinement; it would slowly break down and be destroyed from lack of contact with others.

Were these gaps the reason for the guardians abandoning other worlds? Where was this place and why was it in the club?

“You know, you really shouldn’t vandalize property when you don't know who owns it.” An old voice suddenly spoke, causing Ciel, who had been very lost in his thoughts to jump in shock and fear. He turned to see an old man in a silver grey cloak looking at him. His back was stooped and his beard was white. He clutched a gnarled staff taller than him in his hands. There was a certain gravitas in his eyes and a thin, red, crescent mark on his pale, wrinkled forehead.

“That hurt.”

Ciel was a little bewildered by what the old man meant when he said that it hurt. He looked at him in confusion before he realized that the crescent mark on the man’s forehead looked like it had been done recently, in comparison to the rest of his dignified mien. Why would this ancient hermit, who already looked so wise and otherworldly need to add a magic mark on himself? He already looked the part without needing to exaggerate it. Ciel paused. Putting the two sentences that the man had said, Ciel realized that it was not a crescent on his forehead but a letter ‘C’.

Ah… Oops…