Mervella just had the faintest hope that the box with the strange lights would finally let her out at the place she was supposed to be. But in her heart she knew that it wouldn't be that easy.

As she stepped out, it was night. No stars and no moon to light her way, but still she could see the long and winded road towards a castle upon a large rock. Mervella looked around some more. No other signs of civilization anywhere. If anything, the castle was obviously her next goal. She wondered what kind of test would be waiting for her here. With a shrug she made her way up the road.

From what she could see in the dark, the castle looked in pretty good shape. It was more a prestige building than an actual fortification, and though the road was the only way towards it and made it easy for any defenders to rain arrows, bolts or rocks onto anyone on it, other defensive measures were blatantly missing. There was no draw bridge, no chasm surrounding this massive building. Mervella even saw glass windows on the lowest floors, which would in any case be a weak point in the defense. It was obvious to her. This was not a stronghold.

The road ended at a massive front door. Made of wood and iron, with two large rings on each of the door halves and decorated with grim faces that looked kind of monstrous. Though Mervella wasn't really phased by those. She pushed the door open and was surprised that it wasn't locked or barred. Instead they swung open with ease and let her into a large hall. Candles burned at regular intervals along the walls. Heavy curtains hung before the windows, but were pulled back for some reason. A stairwell led to a gallery above the hall, and on this gallery Mervella could see a person.

"Welcome!" It was a man, and his voice sounded well-spoken. "I welcome you to my humble home. My name Bertrand Romania Wolfgang, first son of Baron Vladimir Wolfgang and heir to his throne."

Something was wrong about this man. He seemed young, younger than Mervella, and his face was paler than any living person's she had ever met. Instinctively her hand went to the sword on her hip. Still, the blade would not leave the sheath. Damn it!, Mervella cursed silently. But on the outside she gave her best to put up a smile. "I am Mervella," she introduced herself, keeping a watchful eye on the stranger. "Knight of the King of Phellar. At your service."

When she said that, Bertrand started descending on the stairs. He had a very majestic walk, appropriate for a nobleman, but still... something was off about him. "I am very pleased to make your aquaintance, Mervella. But tell me: What brings you here in the middle of the night?"

"Well..." There was no easy answer to this. How was Mervella supposed to explain all that had happened to her in the past few... Hours? Days? Months? When had she left Ezdarail to follow the instructions of this old woman? But while she tried to figure out what to say, Bertrand already opened his arms in a welcoming fashion.

"Please! You must be exhausted. Being outside in the cold night. Probably hungry and thirsty, too. I know I am," he added then, with a strange undertone. And before Mervella could answer him or even agree, he gently led her into another room on the other side of the hall. He snapped his fingers once, and suddenly the large doors through which Mervella had entered closed behind her with a loud click. Mervella flinched. This entire place made her feel on the edge.

She still couldn't draw her sword.

The other room was even brighter lit, with golden chandeliers on a long table and torches mounted up to the walls. The table in the middle was covered with a white tablecloth. The cutlery was blinking in the shine of the candles. A porcelain plate stood with a piece of meat ready before one seat, while in front of the other something was covered by a large lid.  Bertrand pointed with one inviting hand gesture towards the meat. "Please, enjoy!"

Did he expect me? Mervella was unsure, but she found herself following his invitation and sitting down at the table before she realized she was doing it. "Are you not going to eat anything?" she then asked, distrustful. The bad feeling inside her grew stronger as she noticed that Bertrand was standing right behind her.

"In a minute, dear," he said. His voice sounding growly, greedy... like a predator approaching its prey. "In a minute..."

And he started to lean over. Mervella saw it in his eyes. The clear grey eyes suddenly flashed in a bloody red, while his teeth grew into viscious fangs that were about to sink into her neck.

She reacted quickly, grabbing the piece of meat and shoved it in his mouth just as he was about to bite her. He bit down on the meat instead... and was occupied for a critical second.

As Mervella jumped up from her seat, the chair fell over. She pushed Bertrand aside and ran towards the Great Hall. If she were to fight him, she needed some space to use her sword. He didn't hurry to follow her, his teeth apparently stuck in the meat well, and he had a hard time freeing himself from it. So Mervella reached the centre of the hall and tried with all her might to pull the sword out of her sheath. It wouldn't let her. It was stuck as if the blade was welded into it.

If I ever find this woman again, I will kill her, Mervella thought grimly and looked around for an exit. The large door was locked and barred. But there were windows on the ground floor of this castle. Good thing this was never built as a fortress...

Bertrand followed her from the other room, hissing and snarling like acid eating through metal. Blood ran down from his lips - not his blood, but from the raw meat that he had offered Mervella. It disgusted her, but right now she had other problems. Right now she had a good head start. So she ran and jumped - head first into the nearest window. And crashed through it to escape this wretched place...