"Yes, you were out cold. You... bumped your head. All right, I'm not a very good liar. I knocked you out."
Despite Jenkins's admission, the elf didn't seem to care.
They were in a zzanine corridor between the first and second floors, where the ceiling was exceptionally low. If Jenkins stood on his tiptoes, his head would likely brush against it.
At the far end of the corridor stood a single room. According to the map, it was a secret chamber where the castle's lord had concealed his collection. Gaining entry was supposed to be a complex affair: first, one had to find a key that had been broken into three pieces, each hidden on a different floor of the castle. Once the key was reassembled, the next step was to solve a puzzle on the wall. Finally, within a strict ti limit after completing the puzzle, one had to step on five specific floor tiles in a sequence hinted at in a nearby oil painting.
But due to years of neglect, the wall was so fragile it collapsed the mont Jenkins pushed it, making their journey here surprisingly easy.
"We're here for the mirror. Don't touch anything but the mirror."
Jenkins issued the warning before opening the door, and the elf nodded.
"In that case, perhaps I should wait for you at the door."
After the recent incident, Miss Silf had co to the conclusion that she might—just possibly—be a bit of a liability in certain situations.
"No, no, no," Jenkins insisted. "If I got the mirror and you vanished, wouldn't that be even more troubleso? Besides, don't worry. You're my companion. We're in this together."
With that, he pushed the door open to reveal complete darkness. None of the castle's corridors or rooms were lit, though the bonfire outside cast so light into areas with windows. This secret chamber, quite clearly, had none.
The room was small, its four walls lined with tal display shelves laden with all sorts of objects. So had crumbled to dust with the passage of ti, but many more remained pristine and gleaming, as if they had just been polished.
He didn't spot a mirror at first glance, but he soon found one concealed behind a heavy curtain.
Neither Jenkins nor the elf dared to enter right away. They waited a few seconds before cautiously stepping into the chamber.
"No traps?"
He muttered, surveying their surroundings.
"Were those puzzles supposed to be the only danger?"
"But those weren't dangerous at all," the elf pointed out.
she added,
"Perhaps the danger lies within the mirror itself. We shouldn't unveil it. Let's just take it as it is and leave."
"Good idea."
Jenkins nodded and reached out to wrap the curtain around the mirror. But just as he did, a sudden gust of wind stirred the still air of the room. It swept the curtain aside, unveiling the mirror, and carried with it an intensely sweet aroma that made both his and the elf's stomachs rumble in unison.
Jenkins didn't bother turning to ask the elf if she was hungry. His attention was fixed on the mirror, where another person had suddenly appeared.
"Hungry?"
This ti, the figure was a proper human chef. The scene within the mirror was the castle's dining hall, where he sat at the head of a long table laden with silver and gold platters. Candlelight flickered, glinting off the sumptuous-looking food.
"You must be hungry."
The man in the mirror chuckled.
The aroma seed to drift right through the glass into the cramped chamber. Jenkins's stomach growled again, as did Silf's. He could even hear her swallow, a distinctly unladylike gulp.
"Good thing my cat isn't here."
he muttered, feeling the pangs of hunger himself. He then reached a hand straight into the mirror and yanked the smiling man out.
"You think this is funny?"
He snarled, gripping the man's lapels. Ignoring his captive's struggles and the black smoke that began to hiss from his own hand, Jenkins drew his sword and pressed the tip to the man's forehead.
"You get one chance to answer. We're here for a mirror. Is this it?"
Perhaps sensing that Jenkins genuinely wouldn't hesitate to kill him, this man proved far more sensible than the last three monsters. He decided to tell the truth.
"This is what you're looking for—the Mirror of Gluttony. I'm its spirit. If you kill , you destroy the mirror... I'm not really dangerous. I just wanted to offer you so food... Alright, alright! Please, don't! If you eat my food, you give your shadows in return. It's not a big deal, really, it just lets control you..."
And so, after facing jealousy, pride, and wrath, Jenkins and the elf had now t gluttony. They carried the mirror out of the castle and handed it to the old butler before resuming their adventure.
Even including the sword that could harm the butler, they now had only three tasks remaining. The easiest was retrieving the gem from the tower. Thanks to a prior warning from a drinking skeleton, the process was relatively safe, aside from an attack by so bizarre-looking mosquitoes.
Like the mirror, the gem was promptly taken outside the old castle and given to the butler as proof of their progress. He was still there, wringing his hands, but his expression had grown odd. The elf quietly assured Jenkins that there was definitely sothing wrong with the butler and that he would almost certainly try to stop them at the very end.
"I'm almost a hundred percent sure of it."
she said.
Their adventure had a small interlude. Though the ordeal with the Mirror of Gluttony was over, both Jenkins and Silf were genuinely hungry. Jenkins himself was fine—even without sunlight for photosynthesis, he could simply take a few deep breaths to feel full. But the elf was no tree. She was still mortal and needed sustenance when she felt hunger.
So, it was only when she tugged on his sleeve, her face flushed as she admitted she was truly hungry, that Jenkins realized he had completely overlooked his companion's needs.
"That's simple. Hold on a second."
He opened his pack again and, after rummaging for a mont, produced a dry, yellowish-brown leaf.
"Here, this is for you."
"This looks familiar."
the elf remarked, popping the leaf into her mouth and beginning to chew as Jenkins took the opportunity to explain.
"It's a creation of the Church of Nature from my ti. A single leaf provides enough energy for a full day. They even co in different flavors—that one is orange. I don't need to eat, but the Church prepared so for anyway. They hardly take up any space, after all."
"This is actually an elven creation."
Silf spoke as she chewed, her jaw moving with the slow, deliberate rhythm of a cal munching on hay.
"It's a military ration we elves use on the march. In my ti, the recipe was a closely guarded secret. I never thought humans would master it. Still," she added, "none of the ones I've had before tasted this good."
Their final target was on the fourth floor of the castle, in a guest room. A "Do Not Disturb" sign still hung from the doorknob, its writing faded and blurred by the passage of countless years.
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