My sight remained glued to the icon above, jaw dropped open almost caressing the newly polished marble floors of Celestine's luxurious bedroom.
Discover the true killers of the Duke of North Hill's family
The words were written plainly, light radiating behind them, soft at first but bouncing sharply at intervals the longer I stared.
"How on earth am I going to do that?" I whispered to myself, mind spiralling into a maze of confusion, fully aware of the fact that raced through my head.
There was none.
Lucian Valehale Iksander, the young duke of the Iksander household. He lost his father, mother and baby sister in a devastating fire accident.
Unexpectedly.
Tragic.
But suspicious enough not to be considered an accident. The flames swallowed his home, leaving behind nothing but ashes and that too on his 6th birthday. A boy carved cold from the death of his loved ones, broken by loss.
Several investigations were carried out, dozens even, to find the culprit. But each ending the same way, no killer found, no culprit named.
Not because the murderers were clever enough to cover their tracks or because the truth was tightly sealed in a jar, buried too deep never to surface the earth.
But simply because I hadn't written one.
Lucian was designed to be a typical male lead, cold, unreadable, mysterious and obsessively drawn to the heroine. But all that was a mask.
One he wore to hide his pain sinking him deeper into an ocean of despair.
I created this tragedy to shape a bond. One where no one could share except the heroine. A wound so deep, only she could see him beneath the icy mask that he wore.
And only she could pull him out of that ocean of despair with her kindness…. With her soft, warm, gentle love. But now that tragedy has come back to bite me. Like a venomous viper set to strike at any minute.
It was impossible to find people that didn't exist, I concluded, head a mess while I pace back and forth in Celestine's room. The icon glowed again.
My body went rigid. Dread crawled up my spine as I stared at the icon in silence, reluctant to read whatever new impossible mission it had to reveal.
But in my core, I knew I had to, it was the only way to end this story and return home. To my life as Ray Degrassi. I steadied my nerves as I opened up the icon to read what it had to say.
You have been given a tool to help you on your quest.
"A tool?," I muttered surprised.
The Icon pulsed again, brighter this time. Before I could blink, a book shimmered into existence, dropping into my stretched out arms.
I remained still, gaze wide in confusion.
"A book?!!,"I said, my fingers brushing through the worn out leather cover, "how is a book supposed to help me?,". I asked as my gaze lingered at the icon perplexed.
Light flared again, the words appearing across it.
You have been given your original draft. Use it to complete your mission: Discover the true killers of the Duke of North Hill's family.
My stomach twisted. Quickly I flipped it open, going through the pages, glancing past familiar scenes, rough sketches and half finished notes, everything was there. A choetic first draft, yet undeniably the whole plot I had written.
Everything except the identity of the killer.
I slammed the book shut, voice trembling from a steaming heat, "there is no killer," I said, "I never wrote one…., I just made them die for the plot", my heart sinking as the words rolled out of my mouth.
"There has to be another way," I muttered calmly, the heat subsiding after the self crushing reminder, tossing the book over the bed as I slump down with a heavy sigh.
The icon once again glowed, as though ignoring my words and telling me it didn't care. Suddenly the air in the room vibrated.
A door, one that had never existed before suddenly emerged in the wall beside the wardrobe, its frame outlined in shimmering white.
My breath caught both from shock and exhaustion.
"What now?".
The icon pulsed sharply.
The door will take you to the night the Duke's parents were killed. Find the true killer.
My entire body went cold. "So If I went through that door…. Will I go back?"
The icon flashed once "Affirmative."
Could this actually work, I thought. A fact still remained that I had written no killer but an unsettling bubble began to boil within. Many things had changed since the restart. I could speak as myself, the characters interacted outside the original story. And I wasn't at the beginning of the story.
I was sure I hadn't written a killer. But, what if one had appeared?.
It would make sense why the icon's sudden interest in Lucian's family's death. A tremor ran through me. If this was true, then things could be dangerous. Really dangerous.
Either way, there was only one way to find out.
I glanced across the room and spotted a cloth bag. Quickly I grabbed it and slung it over my shoulder. I shoved the draft into it and reached for my cloak, pulling up the hood. Still a knot of fear tightened in my chest.
What if something happens, what if I die there, what if the killer sees me?.
"I need protection," I whispered. Then it hit me, Celestine's father. He kept a gun hidden in his private library. I wrote that scene myself.
I hurried down the corridor, heart pounding as I entered his library. The door squeaked as I gently pushed it open. The air smelled faintly of old leather and ink.
Kneeling beside the large oak desk, I opened the secret safe and the Gun laid beautifully in place. Guns were rare and only given to high ranking officials but some nobles still had ways of acquiring them.
Nobles like the Marquis Damascus.
I retrieved the gun and thankfully it was loaded. A folded document sat beside it that caught my eyes. But I pushed it aside, I didn't have time.
Locking the safe again, I rushed back to the glowing doorway. I slipped the gun beneath a concealed pocket in my cloak, and tightened my grip on my bag.
"Okay, I'm ready," I whispered to myself, voice shaking. I drew in a sharp breath as I stepped into the light. The moment my feet crossed the threshold, the icon gave one final warning:
Warning: Failure to succeed results in severe consequences.
☆☆☆☆☆☆☆♡☆☆☆☆☆☆☆
Nervously, I peeked with one eye, making sure I had not teleported into another dimension, or melted away into a bright endless abyss. Frantically, I patted down every part of my body, checking if I was still in one piece.
A wave of relief pulsed through me, thankfully, I was still intact. But that relief vanished just as quickly, swallowed by the biting cold of the night air. Truly I had gone back in time, and was really in North-hill.
I wrapped my hands tightly across my chest, trying to trap the little warmth I had left. It wasn't even winter yet, and the temperature had dropped to zero.
My eyes swept through the area. I was currently at the fountain graden behind the Duke's manor. I had no time to waste. Quickly, I hurried into the manor, without a second to spare. The moment I arrived, I knew I was running out of time.
The guests for Lucian's birthday celebration had already begun pouring in. There was no way I could go through the front, it was a strictly by invitation event, and I certainly wasn't on that list— at least the older version of Celestine.
Fortunately, a maid had stepped out through the manor's back door earlier, leaving it slightly ajar, just enough for me to slip inside.
With the rush of the servants scrambling to attend to the noble's needs and the pressure of keeping everything perfect, I prayed that no one would notice an extra shadow, in a dark cloak moving around.
I slid through the crowded kitchen, weaving between frantic servants, the air thick with the scent of roasted meats and the panic of last minute's preparation.
I had managed to slip unnoticed into the stretched out corridor of the manor, brightly lit and the sound of life buzzing from the very end. I had no time to waste, a few moments from now the left wing of the manor was going to burn down with Lucian's family within, leaving nothing but ashes and a broken soul.
In order to find out the killer I had to be at the right place and at the right time. But, I had no idea which part went to the left wing.
I yanked out the book, flipping through the pages like a mad woman, looking for directions. Notes. Anything.
For something supposedly meant to help, it wasn't helping much.
Guests drifted past me, their whispers sharp and judgmental. Quickly I pulled my hood lower, hiding as much of my face as I could. I couldn't afford to draw attention to myself. Not tonight.
Keeping my head lower, I continued forward, weaving through the hallways avoiding eye contact with anyone who so much as glanced at my way. I noticed a corner by the left. "Maybe that would lead to the left wing", I muttered, clutching onto my bag, as I took a sharp turn.
I turned into the hallway only to collide straight into someone.
The impact jolted the book from my hands, sending it across the gleaming floor.
"Oh!, I am terribly sorry," the woman gasped. Before I could react, she bent and picked up the book. My heart stopped as her eyes swept through the open page, brows lifted in curiosity.
"T..thank you" I murmured, snatching it back and shoving it back into my bag. I kept my hood low, desperate to keep my face hidden.
"I was actually looking for my son," she said kindly.
"A young boy, did you see him run past?".
"No" I said, trying to leave the situation as quickly as possible
She blinked. "that's odd, Where on earth could this boy be?". I tried to use the moment of her being lost in thoughts to slip away, but her gaze instantly slid over me. "Well, thank you" a soft smile tugging at her lips.
"No need," dismissively trying to leave the conversation and get back on track in fulfilling my mission. "Where are you heading?" She asked.
I froze on my heels. Have I been found out?. My mind raced, desperately trying to construct an escape plan.
"The party is that way," she continued, finger pointing towards the opposite corridor.
"I was searching for the bath…powder room". I replied, forcing a smile as my heart violently thudded against my ribcage, finger crossed praying she had believed me.
"Oh. Well then, walk a little and you would find one just to your left".
"T..thank you.." I muttered leaving her sight in an instant, the moment her attention shifted. My smile dropped. Thankfully she had not realized how out of place I looked.
But a fact still remained, I hadn't found the left wing yet and I wasn't sure how much time I had left, but i knew it wasn't long enough.
Asking for directions wasn't an option either. It would only make me seem even more suspicious, especially since I was supposed to be an invited guest at the ball room, who should have no business snooping around, especially at the restricted parts of the manor.
I still hurried forward in search, but then I saw it.
A portrait. Family—Lucian's family. My breath caught as I followed the line of paintings. The father, cold and composed, Lucian clutching a tiny hand, the baby sister, serene in her innocence and finally the mother.
The woman from the hallway. That was Lucian's mother?. "Then that would mean, wherever she may be heading to might be the left wing, and the fire could happen at any moment" I said under my breath.
"The duke and duchess of North hill" a young voice spoke softly.
Catching my attention as I pivoted towards the young girl standing beside me.
"Who might you be?" She asked, her tone curious, innocent but spoilt. "I am familiar with every noble in Saenia, but I haven't seen you before" she said, her eyes scanning me up and down. She continued, "And what do you mean about a fire?".
My eyes lit up in shock, it was young Celestine.