Chapter 1 - The Chest

Cold, so cold. Why do dark places have to be so cold? A flicker of a flame as my torch is tackled by the draft. My eyes wonder in the dim as I finally find my target. A chest of oak, strong to have held through all these centuries. A massive piece of art seeming to be innocently sitting in the corner. By the light of my flame I can just make out the intricate carvings of the time the chest was crafted. The figures dance in the magic lighting. As I walk closer it seems as though it is aware I am there, and is welcoming me into an unknowing embrace. Why am I here, I think to myself. The answer eludes me as I flip the latch and push the lid up. A sheet of black, that is all. The chest had been emptied years before and left in the cellar to rot. I let out a breath I didn’t know I had been holding, and gently lower the lid. As I walk back to the stairs I can still feel the pull of the chest, as if begging me to unlock it’s secrets. But what secrets can an empty chest hold? 7/31/06

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